#love applying new things i learned to old spaces

[arilevenatz]

Heart At Sea

Pairing: Pirate!Wooyoung x reader

Genre/trope: Fluff, pirate au

Word count: 14.4k

Warnings: Self-harm, scars, whipping, Imk if I missed any!

AN: Finally woo gets his fic! I'm so excited to finish all 8 fanfictions of the members! I've had so much fun writing this. Also yes I did cry while writing this thank u very much. I just love wooyoung being so sweet and he's extra sweet to mc. I think everybody deserves a wooyoung in their life

On the island of Seagrove, YN was known as the pharmacist's daughter. Her days were spent behind the counter of her father’s small shop, nestled near the docks. With her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back, she sorted herbs, prepared remedies, and greeted customers with a quiet confidence.

Her father often ventured into the wild parts of the island, gathering rare plants and ingredients, leaving YN to tend the store. Though young, she had learned much from him—how to grind herbs into powders, mix tinctures, and recognize the faintest symptoms of illness. To the townsfolk, she wasn’t just a girl helping her father; she was a steady hand they could rely on.

The shop itself was simple but full of life. Shelves lined with glass jars and wooden boxes gave the space a calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus. The faint hum of the bustling harbor outside mixed with the occasional jingle of the shop’s bell, marking each new customer’s arrival.

A few townsfolk trickled into the small shop as the morning sun cast golden light through the windows. YN greeted each one with a warm smile that seemed to brighten the entire room.

“Good morning, Mr. Harris!” she chimed as an elderly fisherman stepped inside, clutching his back. “Here for the ointment again?”

“Aye, lass. This old spine of mine doesn’t let me forget it,” he grumbled, though his face softened at her cheerful demeanor.

YN bustled behind the counter, quickly grabbing a small jar of salve. “This should help, just like before! And don’t forget to warm it a little before applying—it works better that way,” she reminded him with a wink.

As he handed over a few coins, another customer entered—a young mother with a baby on her hip. “YN, do you have more of that chamomile tea? It’s the only thing helping my little one sleep these days.”

“Of course, I do!” YN said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. She fetched the tea leaves from a neatly labeled jar and handed them over. “Make sure to steep it for just a few minutes—too strong, and it might be a bit bitter.”

The mother smiled gratefully, the weight of her exhaustion easing just a bit under YN’s sunshine-like warmth.

One by one, people came and went, leaving the shop not just with their medicines but with lighter hearts. YN’s genuine kindness and optimism were infectious, and her presence made the small shop a place of comfort for everyone who stepped through its doors.

Every day, YN spent her hours in the shop, tending to customers with her signature warmth and energy. From sunrise until late afternoon, she ground herbs, mixed tinctures, and offered advice to anyone who came through the door. Her genuine care for others made her beloved in the town of Seagrove.

The shop’s bell jingled throughout the day, announcing each visitor. Sometimes it was a sailor seeking relief for a sore shoulder, or a mother in need of remedies for her child’s fever. YN treated them all with the same unwavering kindness, her cheerful voice and bright smile a constant in their lives.

When the day quieted, YN carefully closed the shop, counting the coins she had earned and tucking them into a small leather pouch. Slinging her basket over her arm, she walked the familiar cobblestone streets back to her home, greeting everyone along the way.

“YN! Thank you for the tea yesterday—it worked wonders!” called a baker as she passed by.

“Anytime! Let me know if you need more,” YN replied, waving with a grin.

The townsfolk adored her. To them, YN wasn’t just the pharmacist’s daughter—she was the heart of their little island, always ready to brighten someone’s day. As she reached her modest home, the warm glow of lantern light spilling from the windows, YN felt content. She had done her part for her community, as she did every day.

Aboard the Halazia, the sea stretched endlessly around the sleek black ship as it cut through the waves like a predator on the hunt. The crew was busy at work, each man fulfilling his role with precision honed through years of sailing under Captain Hongjoong’s command.

On the quarterdeck, Hongjoong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his sharp eyes fixed on the horizon. His captain's coat billowed in the salty breeze, and a faint smirk played on his lips. “How much longer, Navigator?” he called without turning his head.

“Two hours at most, Captain,” Yunho replied from the helm, his hands steady on the wheel. His calm demeanor matched his confidence in guiding the Halazia through the labyrinth of islands and open waters.

Below deck, Yeosang organized his medical supplies in the dimly lit infirmary. The ship’s rocking didn’t bother him as he meticulously sharpened his tools and checked the cleanliness of bandages. He always prepared for the worst—life aboard a pirate ship demanded it.

Meanwhile, San was in the armory, inspecting the blades and sharpening the cutlasses. His focus was intense, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous energy. As the battle master, he made sure that every weapon on board was in top condition.

On the main deck, Mingi oversaw the crew, his booming voice carrying over the sound of the waves. “Secure those ropes properly! I don’t want to see slack before the next storm!” His role as boatswain made him responsible for the ship’s upkeep, and he took it seriously.

Wooyoung emerged from the galley with a knife in one hand and a basket of freshly cut fruit in the other. “Anyone hungry? I’m not making this twice!” he called out, his mischievous grin suggesting he’d already eaten more than his share.

Down by the cannons, Jongho stood inspecting the weapons that were his pride and responsibility. He ran his hands over the barrels, checking for cracks or defects, and tested the ammunition. Each cannon was polished and ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

Above them all, Seonghwa moved seamlessly between tasks, keeping the crew in line and ensuring the captain’s orders were carried out. As quartermaster and first mate, he was Hongjoong’s right hand and the ship’s enforcer. His sharp gaze missed nothing.

The Halazia wasn’t just a ship; it was a well-oiled machine, and its crew was a family forged by countless battles and storms. Today, however, their mission had a specific target—the peaceful island of Seagrove.

The island of Seagrove had always been a neutral land, a safe harbor for travelers, traders, and even the occasional pirate crew. Its position in the Azure Archipelago made it an essential stop for ships to restock supplies and repair damages, but the island’s policy of neutrality demanded careful diplomacy.

When the Halazia docked at Seagrove, the townsfolk took notice immediately. The sight of its dark sails and ominous figurehead was enough to send a ripple of unease through the streets. While it wasn’t unusual for the infamous crew to stop by, the knowledge of their ruthless reputation made the air feel heavy.

“Looks like the Halazia is back,” muttered an old fisherman, his eyes narrowing as he watched the crew disembark.

“Better keep your heads down,” his companion whispered. “They may not cause trouble, but it doesn’t mean they won’t if given a reason.”

The townspeople moved cautiously, their smiles forced and voices hushed. They weren’t hostile, but they walked on eggshells around the crew, offering a nervous politeness that thinly veiled their fear.

The crew of the Halazia, however, carried themselves with practiced nonchalance. They strode through the cobblestone streets as though they owned them, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight and their gazes sharp.

“Do you think they’re just here to restock?” a shopkeeper murmured.

“They always are,” another replied. “But you never know with pirates. Best to stay out of their way.”

Even as the Halazia crew wandered the town, visiting taverns or inspecting the market stalls, the people of Seagrove remained wary. Neutral land or not, the presence of the crew was enough to keep everyone on edge.

The Halazia crew spread across Seagrove, blending into the island’s usual bustle, though their presence kept the townsfolk on alert. Conversations among the crew were as varied as their personalities, with each man displaying his unique quirks.

In the marketplace, Wooyoung strolled between the stalls, his sharp eyes scanning the goods. He held up a peculiar-looking fruit, turning it in his hands.

“Think this is edible?” he asked, tossing it to Mingi, who had wandered over.

Mingi caught it effortlessly, giving the fruit a skeptical glance. “Edible, sure. But are you willing to test it first?”

Wooyoung grinned. “I’ll pass. Maybe I’ll give it to Yunho—he’s got the stomach for weird stuff.”

Nearby, Yunho overheard and called out, “Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Wooyoung! You’re not slipping anything strange into my food again!”

Wooyoung shrugged innocently. “Last time it was harmless! How was I supposed to know it’d turn your tongue blue?”

Down at the docks, Jongho was inspecting a stack of cannonballs that had just been unloaded from the ship. San leaned against a post nearby, watching him with a smirk.

“You check those like they’re treasure,” San teased.

“They might as well be,” Jongho replied, not looking up. “A bad cannonball could cost us a fight. I’m not taking chances.”

San crossed his arms. “You’re too serious. Maybe you should come spar with me later. Get rid of some of that tension.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow, finally meeting San’s gaze. “Spar? With you? You just want an excuse to show off.”

San grinned wider. “Maybe. But if you’re scared, just say so.”

“Sure.” Jongho rolled his eyes but didn’t rise to the bait.

In a quiet corner of the town square, Seonghwa and Hongjoong stood under the shade of an awning, observing the crew as they mingled with the townsfolk.

“They’re behaving themselves,” Seonghwa said, his tone neutral.

Hongjoong smirked. “As they should. We don’t need unnecessary trouble here.”

Seonghwa glanced sideways at his captain. “You say that now, but when have we ever left Seagrove without some kind of incident?”

Hongjoong chuckled. “Fair point. Let’s hope this time is different.”

In the shaded alleyway near the market, Yeosang stood at a herbalist’s stall, quietly inspecting bundles of dried plants. His sharp eye quickly sorted the useful from the unnecessary.

“These are poorly dried,” he remarked, holding up a brittle bundle of valerian root.

The herbalist, a wiry older man, looked startled. “I—I’m sorry, sir, but that’s all I’ve got right now.”

Yeosang sighed softly, placing the bundle back. “I need quality. If it crumbles before it’s used, it’s worthless.”

From behind him, Yunho approached with an easy grin. “Always so picky, Yeosang. It’s like you expect perfect conditions out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Yeosang didn’t glance back, his hands moving to inspect another jar. “A surgeon doesn’t get second chances, Yunho. The better my supplies, the better I can keep the rest of you alive.”

Yunho leaned against the stall, arms crossed. “Fair point. Still, you could try to lighten up a bit. It’s not all life and death.”

Yeosang turned to him, an unreadable expression on his face. “For you, maybe.”

Meanwhile, Wooyoung spotted Yeosang as he walked away from the stall. “Hey, doc!” he called out, jogging to catch up.

“What is it, Wooyoung?” Yeosang asked, his tone even.

Wooyoung waved a bright yellow fruit in front of him. “You think this could kill someone if I cook it wrong? Or should I give it to the captain and find out?”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s a mango, Wooyoung. Unless you’re planning to drop it on his head, I doubt it’ll harm anyone.”

Wooyoung grinned. “Good to know! Maybe I’ll add it to dinner tonight. Think the captain likes tropical flavors?”

“I think the captain has more pressing concerns than your culinary experiments,” Yeosang replied, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he walked away.

In the distance, Hongjoong watched the exchanges with quiet amusement. Seonghwa, standing beside him, noticed his expression.

“Just as I thought they were behaving. They’re restless,” Seonghwa remarked.

Hongjoong nodded. “Let them stretch their legs. We’ll need them sharp soon enough.”

Seonghwa tilted his head. “And where does that leave us?”

Hongjoong’s gaze drifted toward the apothecary shop again. “For now? Let them play. But keep an eye on Yeosang. He always finds trouble where no one else is looking.”

Seonghwa chuckled. “That’s because he’s too clever for his own good.”

Hongjoong stood at the edge of the marketplace, his sharp gaze fixed on a small shop nestled between two larger buildings. The apothecary. It wasn’t his first visit, though his trips there were rare and purposeful. The shopkeeper had proven useful in the past, supplying him with everything he needed, no questions asked.

He turned to Wooyoung, who was busy juggling a few apples he’d “borrowed” from a stall.

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong called, his voice firm.

Wooyoung caught the apples mid-air and grinned. “Yes, Captain? Need me to charm someone, or are we raiding the tavern early?”

Hongjoong smirked. “Neither. You’re coming with me to the apothecary. I need someone to carry what I buy.”

Wooyoung pouted dramatically, tossing one of the apples back into a basket. “What, I’m just your pack mule now?”

“Call it an extension of your scavenger duties,” Hongjoong replied, already heading toward the shop.

Wooyoung sighed, but his grin quickly returned as he jogged to catch up. “Fine, fine. But if they’ve got anything interesting, I’m keeping it.”

The bell above the door jingled as they stepped into the apothecary. The air inside was heavy with the earthy scent of dried herbs and freshly ground powders. Shelves lined every wall, filled with jars, bottles, and bundles of various remedies and ingredients.

YN stood behind the counter, her hands busy organizing a set of vials. She looked up at the sound of the bell and froze for a moment. It wasn’t every day the captain of the Halazia walked into her shop.

Hongjoong’s sharp eyes scanned the room before landing on her. He stepped forward, his coat swaying slightly. “You’re the pharmacist’s daughter,” he said, more a statement than a question.

YN straightened, her sunshine-like demeanor returning despite the intimidating presence before her. “That’s right. My father’s away, but I can help you. What do you need?”

Wooyoung leaned against the counter with a grin, glancing around the shop. “This place smells great. Got anything fun for a bored pirate like me?”

YN raised an eyebrow, but before she could reply, Hongjoong spoke. “Focus, Wooyoung.” He turned back to YN. “I need these.” He handed over a neatly folded piece of parchment with a list of items.

YN took it, her eyes scanning the list. Some of the ingredients were rare, but she recognized most of them. “I should have everything you need. Give me a moment.”

As YN moved around the shop, gathering items, Wooyoung leaned closer to Hongjoong and whispered, “She’s surprisingly cheerful for someone dealing with us.”

Hongjoong smirked but said nothing, his eyes following YN as she worked efficiently, placing jars and packets on the counter.

When she returned, she began explaining each item. “This powder needs to stay dry, and the tincture should be kept cool. And this—” she paused, holding up a small vial, “—is very potent. Use it sparingly.”

Hongjoong nodded, impressed by her knowledge. “You know your trade well.”

YN smiled warmly. “It’s my job.”

Once everything was packed, Wooyoung grabbed the bundle, pretending to stagger under its weight. “Oh no, Captain, it’s so heavy! What if I collapse under the strain?”

YN stifled a laugh, while Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Stop complaining, or I’ll make you carry more.”

Just as Hongjoong and Wooyoung stepped toward the door, YN's curiosity got the better of her. She cleared her throat and asked, “What deal?”

As they turned to leave, Hongjoong paused at the door, glancing back at YN. “Tell your father our deal still stands. I’ll be back when I need more.”

Hongjoong stopped mid-step but didn’t turn around immediately. Wooyoung, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and shot YN an amused look. “Curious, aren’t we?” he teased, leaning against the counter again.

Hongjoong slowly turned to face her, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. “Your father and I have... an understanding. He provides certain items I need, no questions asked. In return, I ensure that no harm ever comes to this shop or your family. A fair trade, wouldn’t you say?”

YN blinked, trying to process his words. “So, you’re protecting us? That’s what this is about?”

Hongjoong’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “You could say that. But don’t mistake it for charity. It’s business.”

Wooyoung chimed in, his tone light but with an edge of truth. “Think of it as an investment. The captain doesn’t waste time on things—or people—that aren’t worth it.”

YN frowned slightly, crossing her arms. “We don’t need protection. Seagrove is neutral ground.”

Hongjoong stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to be serious but not threatening. “Neutrality doesn’t stop trouble from finding its way here. Pirates, mercenaries, kingdoms—they don’t care about rules when desperation strikes. Your father knows this. That’s why he agreed to our deal.”

YN held his gaze, feeling a mix of defiance and unease. She wanted to argue but couldn’t deny the truth in his words. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady. “But if this is about protection, it works both ways. You might find yourselves needing supplies when no one else will sell to you.”

Hongjoong’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with approval. “Smart girl. Your father taught you well.”

With that, he turned and pushed the door open. Wooyoung gave YN one last playful wink as he followed the captain. “See you around, sunshine,” he said before the door closed behind them, leaving YN standing there with a mixture of curiosity and newfound wariness.

She looked down at the counter where the parchment list lay. Her fingers brushed against it as her mind raced with questions. Whatever deal her father had struck with the Halazia crew, it was clear this wasn’t just a simple exchange of goods.

After the encounter at the apothecary, Wooyoung couldn’t help but find his thoughts drifting back to YN. There was something about her—a bright, carefree energy that contrasted so sharply with the rough, unpredictable life aboard the Halazia. Her genuine warmth had lingered in his mind longer than he expected, and before he realized it, he found himself making excuses to return to the shop.

A few days later, the bell above the apothecary’s door jingled again. YN looked up from where she was sorting herbs, her face lighting up when she saw Wooyoung standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with his usual mischievous grin.

“You again,” she said, her tone teasing but friendly. “Didn’t you stock up enough last time?”

Wooyoung shrugged, stepping further inside. “Captain wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything important. And, well...” He paused, picking up a small jar of dried lavender from a shelf and inspecting it idly. “I thought I’d keep you company. Can’t have you getting bored all alone in here.”

YN laughed, a bright, cheerful sound that filled the small shop. “Bored? Hardly. This place is always busy. Besides, I’m pretty sure pirates don’t come back just to check on someone.”

Wooyoung placed the jar back and leaned on the counter, his grin never fading. “Maybe not, but I’m not like most pirates.”

YN raised an eyebrow, her hands moving automatically as she arranged some vials. “Oh? So what makes you different, Mister Pirate?”

He smirked, resting his chin on his hand. “Well, for one, I appreciate good company. And two...” He trailed off, letting her fill in the rest.

Despite her initial resolve not to get too involved with the Halazia crew, YN found herself smiling. His playful energy was contagious, and she couldn’t help but be drawn into the banter. “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that,” she said, shaking her head.

Wooyoung chuckled. “Smooth enough to get a discount?”

She laughed again. “Not a chance.”

Over the next few weeks, Wooyoung started appearing more frequently. Sometimes he claimed he was running errands for the crew; other times, he didn’t even bother with an excuse. Each visit felt a little more natural, as though he was slipping into the rhythm of her world.

At first, YN kept her guard up. She reminded herself that he was a pirate, part of a crew that carried a reputation for chaos. But Wooyoung’s charm was disarming, and her naturally talkative, sunshine-like personality quickly overshadowed any hesitation.

He’d sit on a stool by the counter, chatting with her about everything and nothing. She’d tell him about the townsfolk, the busy days at the apothecary, and the little joys of living on Seagrove. In return, he’d share stories from the sea—some clearly exaggerated, others tinged with surprising honesty.

One day, as YN handed him a small satchel of herbs, she said with a grin, “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re just here for the company.”

Wooyoung took the satchel, his smile softening. “Maybe I am. Got a problem with that?”

She shook her head, laughing. “Not really. Just don’t scare off my other customers, okay?”

Despite herself, YN found that Wooyoung’s presence didn’t feel like an intrusion. In fact, it felt oddly... comforting. And though Wooyoung never said it outright, he started looking forward to the quiet moments in the apothecary, away from the noise and chaos of life aboard the Halazia.

For now, neither of them thought too hard about what this strange, unexpected connection might mean. They simply enjoyed the moments they had, both of them quietly grateful for the fleeting peace they found in each other’s company.

Over time, Wooyoung became a regular sight in the apothecary. He would stroll in with his usual grin, plop himself onto the old wooden stool by the counter, and watch YN work.

At first, he was content just to chat, but as the days passed, he started offering to help.

“Here, let me do that,” he said one afternoon, stepping behind the counter and shooing YN away as she struggled with a particularly heavy crate of supplies.

She raised an eyebrow at him but stepped aside. “Are you sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to stick around?”

Wooyoung shot her a wink as he effortlessly lifted the crate onto a shelf. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

Soon enough, he became more than just a fixture in the shop. He started assisting her with customers, surprising her with how quickly he learned.

An older woman entered one day, asking for a salve for joint pain. Wooyoung, leaning casually on the counter, chimed in before YN could answet.

“Second shelf on the left,” he said, pointing. “Green jar with the brown lid. That’s the one you want.”

The woman looked at him, then at YN, who nodded in confirmation. “He’s right.”

The woman smiled and handed over her coins, muttering something about how “helpful young men” were hard to find.

After she left, YN crossed her arms and gave Wooyoung an appraising look. “You’re actually pretty good at this.”

He smirked. “Told you. Many talents.”

Not all of his interactions in the shop were so lighthearted, though. Occasionally, a customer would walk in with an attitude—someone trying to haggle too aggressively or speaking to YN with unnecessary harshness.

One such day, a burly man stormed in, slamming a few coins on the counter. “This isn’t enough,” he growled, pointing at a small pouch of medicine YN had just handed him. “You’re overcharging.”

YN opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Wooyoung stood up from his stool and stepped forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something far more dangerous.

“She gave you the price,” Wooyoung said, his voice low and sharp. “Take it, or leave.”

The man turned to Wooyoung, clearly unimpressed. “And who do you think you are?”

Wooyoung’s grin returned, but this time it was anything but friendly. He leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “I’m someone you don’t want to mess with. Now, are you going to take the medicine and go, or should we make this... interesting?”

The man hesitated, clearly weighing his options. After a tense moment, he snatched the pouch from the counter and stormed out, muttering under his breath.

YN let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.

Wooyoung shrugged, sitting back on the stool and spinning it lazily. “Nobody talks to you like that while I’m here. That’s a rule.”

YN smiled despite herself. “I don’t know whether to thank you or scold you for almost starting a fight in my shop.”

Wooyoung grinned. “Thank me, obviously.”

And she did, though she didn’t say it out loud.

With each passing day, Wooyoung’s presence in the shop felt more natural, like he belonged there. The townsfolk began to notice, too, casting curious glances when they saw the pirate helping YN arrange shelves or handing a bag of herbs to a customer. Some whispered about it, others just smiled knowingly.

And though YN had told herself not to get too involved with the crew of Halazia, she couldn’t deny that having Wooyoung around made her days a little brighter—and a lot more entertaining.

It was an ordinary evening aboard the Halazia when Seonghwa walked into the captain’s quarters, a folded letter in his hand. His expression was calm, but there was an edge of seriousness that made Hongjoong look up from the maps spread across his desk.

“What is it?” Hongjoong asked, leaning back in his chair.

Seonghwa handed him the letter without a word. As Hongjoong unfolded it, his sharp eyes scanned the neatly written words. It was from the pharmacist on Seagrove, a message laced with urgency.

“They’re coming back,” Hongjoong muttered, reading aloud. “The same goons who wanted his land before. He says they’re planning to create trouble, maybe worse. He’s asking us to protect his daughter while he’s away.”

Seonghwa crossed his arms, nodding. “It seems they’re waiting for the perfect moment, knowing the island has no real enforcement.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table. His mind worked quickly, weighing the situation. The pharmacist had been a valuable ally, and they owed him for the resources he’d provided in the past. Letting this go unanswered would be a stain on their reputation—and, truthfully, Hongjoong didn’t enjoy leaving favors unpaid.

He looked up at Seonghwa. “We can’t ignore this. We’ll need to send someone to keep an eye on her.”

Before Seonghwa could respond, the door swung open, and Wooyoung strolled in, as casual as ever. “Someone say watch over her?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin.

Hongjoong arched an eyebrow at him. “Eavesdropping now, are we?”

“Not eavesdropping. Just walking by,” Wooyoung said innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “So, what’s the plan? I’m assuming it involves our little sunshine at the apothecary.”

Seonghwa sighed. “It’s serious, Wooyoung. The pharmacist says trouble’s coming her way, and she’ll need protection while he’s gone. This isn’t just a casual errand.”

Wooyoung’s grin faltered slightly, his playful demeanor softening. “I know that. And that’s why I’m volunteering.”

Hongjoong studied him for a moment, noticing the uncharacteristic determination in his eyes. “You’re volunteering? That’s a first.”

Wooyoung shrugged, though there was no hiding the slight tension in his posture. “She’s a good person, Captain. She doesn’t deserve to deal with scum like that. Besides, I’ve been spending the most time with her. Makes sense for me to step in.”

Hongjoong exchanged a glance with Seonghwa, who gave a small nod. Finally, the captain leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Fine. You’ll handle it. But keep a low profile—no unnecessary fights unless it’s unavoidable. And if you need backup, you call for us immediately.”

Wooyoung grinned, his confidence returning in full force. “You got it, Captain. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Later that evening, Wooyoung gathered a few essentials before heading toward the apothecary. As he walked through the dimly lit streets of Seagrove, his mind raced with thoughts of YN.

He didn’t know why, but the idea of something happening to her lit a fire in him that he couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was her kindness, her unshakable warmth, or the way she always smiled, even when dealing with stubborn customers. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to let anyone take that away from her.

When he reached the shop, the bell jingled softly as he stepped inside. YN looked up from the counter, surprised to see him.

“Wooyoung? You’re back already?” she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

He nodded, his usual playful grin softening into something more genuine. “Yeah. Looks like I’ll be sticking around for a while.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Why? What’s going on?”

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment before leaning against the counter, his voice gentle. “Your dad sent us a letter. Said some people might cause trouble while he’s gone. So... I’m here to make sure they don’t.”

The morning sun bathed Seagrove in a warm glow as YN stepped out of the apothecary with a basket in hand, ready to run her errands. She hummed softly to herself as she walked down the cobblestone streets, her mind focused on the list of things she needed.

But she wasn’t alone.

Though his footsteps were silent and his movements careful, YN could feel the weight of a gaze following her. She smirked to herself, pretending not to notice as she turned a corner, heading toward a quieter part of town.

When the street became deserted, she abruptly stopped and turned around, catching Wooyoung mid-step. He froze like a child caught sneaking sweets, his wide eyes meeting hers.

“So,” YN began, tilting her head and walking backward to keep her eyes on him. “You’re basically a bodyguard now?”

Wooyoung let out a small sigh, shaking his head as he caught up to her. “Careful, you’ll trip if you keep walking like that,” he said, his tone light but protective.

“I’m serious,” she pressed, ignoring his warning. “Isn’t this what bodyguards do? Follow people around, stay hidden, and swoop in dramatically when there’s trouble?”

Wooyoung chuckled, crossing his arms as he walked beside her. “Something like that. But I wouldn’t call myself a bodyguard. More like a... pirate with a purpose.”

YN laughed at that, the sound echoing through the quiet street. “A pirate with a purpose? That sounds so noble for someone like you.”

“Hey,” he said, feigning offense. “I’m plenty noble when I need to be. Like right now. I’m literally protecting you.”

“From what?” she asked, her voice full of innocent curiosity. “There’s no one around.”

Wooyoung glanced around, his eyes scanning the surroundings instinctively. “You’d be surprised. Trouble doesn’t announce itself, you know. One second everything’s fine, and the next... well, it’s not.”

YN stopped walking backward and faced him fully, her brow furrowed. “You really think something’s going to happen?”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, and he shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But your dad was worried enough to ask for help, and I’m not taking any chances.”

She blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. For all his jokes and playful attitude, there was something reassuring about knowing he took her safety seriously.

“So... what do I call you now? Protector Wooyoung? Sir Wooyoung?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

He rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Just Wooyoung is fine, sunshine. Now, can we please focus on where you’re walking? If you trip, I’m not carrying you back.”

YN laughed again and turned to continue her errands, her steps lighter than before. Despite the strangeness of being followed, she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of comfort knowing that, no matter what, Wooyoung was there.

A few days passed without incident, though the air felt charged, as if something unseen was brewing. YN went about her routine with Wooyoung never far behind, always lurking in the background or perched casually on her shop’s stool, keeping watch.

But then, late one night aboard the Halazia, a lowly pirate messenger arrived with urgent news.

Hongjoong sat in his quarters with Seonghwa when the messenger was brought in. The scruffy man, clearly uneasy in the presence of the infamous captain, fumbled with his words but got the message across clearly:

“The goons you’ve been watchin’ out for... they’re plannin’ to hit the apothecary. Heard it straight from one of their lot.”

Hongjoong’s face darkened as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “When?”

“Soon,” the messenger replied. “Could be tonight, could be tomorrow. They’re waitin’ for the right moment.”

Hongjoong dismissed the man and turned to Seonghwa, who stood silently by his side. “We can’t risk it,” the captain said. “The girl’s too vulnerable in the shop. Wooyoung needs to bring her here—now.”

Seonghwa nodded. “I’ll send the word.”

At the apothecary, YN was cleaning up for the night when Wooyoung walked in, his expression unusually serious.

She glanced up at him and immediately noticed the shift in his demeanor. “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting down the jar she was holding.

“We need to leave,” Wooyoung said, his voice firm but calm.

Her brow furrowed. “Leave? Why? What’s going on?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The goons your dad was worried about... they’re planning to attack the shop. Captain’s orders are to get you to the ship where you’ll be safe.”

YN’s eyes widened. “The ship? Halazia? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious,” Wooyoung said, stepping closer. “It’s not safe here, YN. I can protect you better if you’re with us.”

She hesitated, looking around the shop she’d grown up in. “But... what about the store? What about my father’s work?”

Wooyoung softened, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll make sure nothing happens to it. But right now, you’re what matters. We can’t replace you, sunshine.”

Her heart skipped at the unexpected tenderness in his words, but the gravity of the situation quickly pulled her back. She nodded, her resolve hardening.

“Alright,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear creeping in. “Let me grab a few things.”

Wooyoung watched as YN quickly packed a small bag with essentials—some clothes, a few jars of medicine, and a small book she seemed hesitant to leave behind.

As they stepped out into the cool night, Wooyoung’s eyes scanned their surroundings, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. The streets were quiet, but he knew better than to trust the stillness.

“Stay close,” he whispered, his voice low but firm.

YN nodded, clutching her bag tightly as they made their way through the town toward the docks.

The journey felt longer than it should have, every shadow and faint sound putting them both on edge. But eventually, the silhouette of the Halazia came into view, its sails swaying gently in the night breeze.

As they approached the gangplank, Wooyoung turned to YN, his usual grin making a rare appearance despite the tension. “Welcome to the Halazia, sunshine. You’re about to meet the best—and most chaotic—crew in the seven seas.”

As soon as YN stepped onto the deck of the Halazia, she froze, her wide eyes taking in the sheer majesty of the pirate ship. The towering masts, the intricate ropes, and the faint smell of saltwater mixed with wood—it all felt surreal, like she’d stumbled into one of her dreams.

Her fear of ships and the open sea had always held her back from venturing onto one, but now, standing here, it felt like that fear had melted away, replaced by pure wonder.

“This is... amazing,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle creaking of the ship.

Wooyoung, who had been following her with her bag slung over his shoulder, smirked as he watched her light up like a child discovering a new world. “You act like you’ve never seen a ship before,” he teased, though his tone was soft.

“I haven’t,” YN admitted, turning to him with an excited grin. “Not like this! I mean, I’ve seen them from the shore, but actually being on one? It’s completely different!”

She wandered across the deck, her fingers brushing against the railings and ropes, her eyes darting to every detail—the cannons lined up neatly, the sturdy wheel, and the faint reflection of the moonlight on the water below.

“This is incredible,” she said again, more to herself than to Wooyoung. “I never thought I’d actually step foot on a ship.”

Wooyoung chuckled as he trailed behind her, carrying her things without complaint. “Well, you’re lucky this isn’t just any ship. You’re standing on the Halazia, the finest vessel on the seas.”

YN turned to him, her eyes sparkling. “The finest, huh? You don’t seem very humble about it.”

“Why should I be?” he said with a grin, leaning casually against a mast. “The Halazia deserves to be shown off. Just like me.”

YN rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. She turned her attention back to the ship, climbing a few steps to the raised quarterdeck and looking out over the bow. The gentle rocking of the ship made her heart race, but it wasn’t fear—it was exhilaration.

“You look like a kid in a candy shop,” Wooyoung said, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and fondness as he watched her.

She spun around, leaning against the railing with a bright smile. “I feel like one. This is so much better than I imagined.”

Wooyoung’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he watched her. He wasn’t sure what it was about her—maybe the way her excitement was so contagious, or the way her wide eyes seemed to find magic in everything—but seeing her like this made him forget, even for a moment, the dangers that had brought her here.

“Alright, sunshine,” he said, breaking the moment. “As much as I’d love to let you explore all night, you’ll need some rest. The captain will want to speak with you in the morning.”

YN nodded, reluctantly tearing herself away from the view. “Okay, fine. But I’m not done exploring. You’ll have to show me everything tomorrow.”

Wooyoung laughed. “Deal. But for now, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. Come on.”

He led her below deck, still carrying her things as she followed him with the same wide-eyed wonder. And though the weight of what lay ahead lingered in the back of his mind, Wooyoung found himself smiling, content in the moment.

When Wooyoung led YN to a small cabin below deck, she stepped inside and immediately felt the silence pressing in around her. The cozy space was nothing like her home, with its small wooden bed, a lantern casting soft light, and the faint creaking of the ship filling the air.

“Here you go,” Wooyoung said, setting her bag down by the bed. “It’s not much, but it’s cozy enough. You’ll be safe here.”

YN nodded, clutching her arms tightly. “Yeah… it’s nice.” But her voice wavered slightly, betraying her unease.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, noticing the way her eyes darted around the room and how she hesitated to step further in. “Something wrong?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

She shook her head quickly, forcing a smile. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just… not used to being alone, that’s all.”

His smirk faded as he studied her. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a small sigh. “A little. Back home, I always stayed with my aunt when my dad wasn’t around. I’ve never really been by myself at night. It’s… it’s just something I’m not used to.”

Wooyoung frowned, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. He could see the fear in her eyes, the way she fidgeted nervously. It wasn’t something he was used to—seeing someone so openly vulnerable. Most people tried to hide their fears around pirates, but YN was an open book.

“You know,” he started, his voice softening, “I could always stick around for a bit. Keep you company until you fall asleep. That way, you’re not completely alone.”

YN’s eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he said with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m your bodyguard, remember? Can’t let anything happen to you, even if it’s just a bad dream.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. “Okay. Just until I fall asleep.”

Wooyoung pulled a chair over and sat down near the bed, leaning back comfortably as YN hesitantly climbed under the blankets.

For a while, the only sound was the gentle creak of the ship and the distant crash of waves. YN lay on her side, her gaze fixed on Wooyoung, who seemed completely at ease, his legs stretched out and arms crossed behind his head.

“You’re really not going to leave, are you?” she asked quietly.

“Not until you’re out like a light,” he replied with a grin.

She chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “Thank you, Wooyoung.”

“Anytime, sunshine,” he said, his voice dropping to a soothing tone.

Slowly, her eyes began to droop, the sound of the ship and the comforting presence of Wooyoung lulling her into a sense of safety she hadn’t expected to feel. And true to his word, he stayed right there, watching over her until her breathing evened out and she drifted into sleep.

The next morning, Wooyoung leaned against the doorframe of YN’s cabin, watching her stretch and yawn as she woke up. Her face was lit with the same cheerful glow he’d come to recognize, her fear from the night before seemingly forgotten.

“Morning, sunshine,” he greeted with a teasing grin. “Sleep well?”

YN sat up, her hair slightly messy, and nodded enthusiastically. “Like a baby. I guess ships aren’t so scary after all!”

He smirked, stepping aside to let her step out. “Told you you’d be fine. Now come on, let’s get some food. The others are already up.”

As they walked toward the breakfast hall, YN’s natural curiosity bubbled over. “So… aren’t you ever scared the ship’s going to sink?” she asked, tilting her head.

Wooyoung snorted, looking at her like she’d just said the most ridiculous thing. “Scared? Me? Sunshine, this ship is sturdier than a fortress. She’s not going anywhere.”

“But what if a giant wave crashes over it?” she asked, her eyes wide with imagined catastrophe.

“Then we ride the wave,” he answered smugly.

She hummed thoughtfully before hitting him with another question. “What if a whale bumps into it? Wouldn’t that cause trouble?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “A whale? Do you think whales just swim around bumping into ships for fun?”

She giggled, shrugging. “I don’t know! Maybe they’re curious.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but the fond smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Alright, sunshine, what’s next? Got any more doomsday scenarios for me?”

“Many. What about sharks? Aren’t you worried they’ll try to bite through the hull?”

Wooyoung stopped walking, staring at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Sharks, YN? Biting through the hull? What kind of stories has your dad been telling you?”

She shrugged with a playful pout. “I don’t know! I just thought… maybe it could happen!”

He shook his head, still grinning as they resumed walking. “I promise you, sharks don’t want to eat wood. You’re safe.”

“What about storms?” she asked next, her voice full of innocent curiosity. “Have you ever been caught in one? Like, a huge one that flips the ship upside down?”

Wooyoung gave her an exaggeratedly serious look. “Oh, sure, all the time. And we just flip her back over and keep sailing.”

YN gasped. “Really?!”

He laughed, ruffling her hair as they walked. “No, sunshine, not really. But we’ve weathered storms before. This ship’s been through it all.”

As they reached the breakfast hall, YN slowed down, looking up at him. “One more question,” she said, her tone quieter but still curious.

“Shoot,” he replied.

“Have you ever been scared on this ship?”

For a moment, Wooyoung paused, his grin fading into something softer. “Maybe once or twice,” he admitted. “But not because of the ship. Because of what might happen to the people on it.”

YN blinked, surprised by his honest answer, but before she could ask more, Wooyoung opened the door to the hall with a dramatic flourish.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced loudly, “the sunshine of the seas has arrived!”

As YN stepped into the breakfast hall, the chatter of the crew quieted, and all eyes turned toward her. Though most of their expressions were neutral or curious, the sheer presence of eight men in one room felt overwhelming. She froze for a moment, clutching Wooyoung’s shirt from behind like a lifeline.

Wooyoung glanced over his shoulder, noticing how she shrank behind him. He let out a soft laugh but didn’t comment, allowing her to use him as a shield.

“Don’t be shy,” he teased lightly, his tone warm. “They don’t bite. Well… maybe San does, but only if you get on his bad side.”

“Hey!” San called from across the room, earning a chuckle from the others.

Hongjoong, seated at the head of the table, gave her a reassuring smile. “Good morning, YN. Don’t let them intimidate you. They’re loud, but they’re harmless.”

She nodded shyly but didn’t let go of Wooyoung’s shirt. The rest of the crew exchanged glances, some amused, some curious.

“Alright, alright,” Wooyoung said, clapping his hands to break the awkward silence. “Let’s get the introductions out of the way so sunshine here can relax.”

He stepped aside, gently nudging YN forward, though she still kept close to him.

Hongjoong stood first, his presence commanding yet calm. “I’m Hongjoong, the captain of this ship. You’ll be safe here, YN. If there’s anything you need, let me know.”

Next was Seonghwa, who gave her a polite nod. “Seonghwa, the quartermaster and first mate. Welcome aboard.”

Yunho, the navigator, grinned warmly. “I’m Yunho. I make sure we don’t get lost. Nice to meet you, YN!”

Yeosang, the quiet surgeon, gave her a small smile. “Yeosang. If you ever get hurt, come to me.”

San leaned back in his chair, flashing a mischievous grin. “San, the battle master. Don’t worry, I only bite if provoked.”

Mingi, the boatswain, waved enthusiastically. “Mingi! I keep the ship in shape. You’re gonna love it here!”

Wooyoung gave her a playful nudge. “And you already know me, your personal bodyguard and scavenger extraordinaire.”

Finally, Jongho, the master gunner, nodded firmly. “Jongho. I handle the cannons. Welcome to the Halazia.”

The introductions helped ease her nerves, and soon enough, the crew’s warm smiles and lighthearted jokes began to make her feel more comfortable.

“Thank you,” she said softly, glancing around at the group. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” Wooyoung said, guiding her to a seat at the table, “let’s eat. Sunshine needs to keep her energy up, after all.”

As the crew returned to their meals, YN slowly started to join the conversation, her natural warmth and curiosity shining through. By the end of breakfast, she wasn’t hiding behind Wooyoung anymore—instead, she was laughing along with the rest of the crew, feeling like she might actually belong.

After breakfast, Wooyoung led YN back out onto the deck. The crew had dispersed to their duties, leaving the ship relatively quiet. He decided it was the perfect time to give her a small tour—not of the whole ship, but just the places he knew she’d actually need.

“Alright, sunshine,” Wooyoung said, walking ahead of her with a slight bounce in his step. “Since you’ll be with us for a while, you should know your way around—at least enough so you don’t get lost.”

YN’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her earlier shyness completely replaced by her usual sunshine-like demeanor. “Okay! Show me everything!”

“Not everything,” he corrected with a chuckle. “Just the essentials. Come on.”

He started with the main deck, pointing out where the crew stored extra supplies and how to tell which ropes were safe to touch—“Don’t go pulling random ones unless you want to drop a sail on your head,” he teased.

YN followed closely, hanging on to every word he said, her excitement growing with every little thing he explained. She’d occasionally gasp or ask a question, her enthusiasm contagious.

“This is where the weapons are stored,” Wooyoung said, gesturing to a small hatch near the mast. “But you probably don’t need to mess with that. Leave the fighting to us.”

“Noted,” YN said with a grin. “No weapons for me. I’ll stick to not breaking anything.”

They moved below deck next, where Wooyoung showed her the mess hall, the kitchen (“Wooyoung’s kingdom,” as he called it), and a few storage rooms.

When they reached the small infirmary, YN gasped. “Oh, it’s so organized!”

“Yeosang keeps it that way,” Wooyoung said with a shrug. “Don’t mess with his stuff, though. He’ll know.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, her eyes wide as she peeked inside.

Finally, Wooyoung led her back up to the quarterdeck, where the ship’s wheel stood. YN looked out over the vast ocean, the sun sparkling on the water like diamonds. Her grin grew even wider, and she spun around to face him, her hands outstretched.

“This is amazing, Wooyoung! I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like a whole new world!”

Wooyoung leaned against the railing, watching her with a soft smile. Her joy was so genuine, so unfiltered, that it tugged at something deep in his chest. He’d spent years on this ship, but he’d never seen it through someone else’s eyes like this.

“Glad you like it,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

YN turned back to the ocean, leaning against the railing as the wind played with her hair. “I can’t believe I was scared of this. It’s beautiful.”

Wooyoung found himself staring, his heart doing something strange—something he didn’t quite understand. He’d been around plenty of people, but there was something about YN’s presence that felt… different.

Shaking off the thought, he smirked and nudged her lightly. “Well, sunshine, you’re part of it now. Welcome to the Halazia.”

She looked up at him with a radiant smile. “Thanks, Wooyoung. I think I’m going to like it here.”

He didn’t say anything, but as they stood there, watching the endless expanse of ocean together, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like it even more now too.

As they leaned against the railing, watching the endless stretch of blue, YN broke the comfortable silence with a quiet question.

“Are you scared of the ocean?”

Wooyoung glanced at her, slightly taken aback. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, her fingers lightly tracing the wood of the railing. “It’s just… it’s so big. And unknown. You don’t really know what’s down there. I’m scared of it. Always have been.”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened as he watched her. For all her bright and cheerful energy, there was a vulnerability in her words that struck him.

“I’m not scared of it,” he said after a moment. “But I get why someone might be.”

YN turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “You don’t think about it? How deep it goes? How it could just… swallow you up?”

Wooyoung chuckled softly, leaning his elbows on the railing. “I guess I’ve been around it so long, I don’t think about it that way anymore. The ocean’s unpredictable, sure, but it’s also… home. It’s dangerous, yeah, but it’s beautiful too.”

“Beautiful and dangerous,” she echoed, looking back at the waves. “I guess that makes sense.”

He glanced at her, his tone softening. “But it’s okay to be scared of it, you know. Everyone’s scared of something. The important thing is not letting it stop you from living.”

YN nodded slowly, his words sinking in. “I guess that’s why you’re here, huh? To make sure I don’t let my fear stop me?”

Wooyoung smirked, his usual teasing tone returning. “Exactly. Think of me as your very own fearless tour guide of the seas.”

She laughed, the sound light and free, and for a moment, her fear seemed to fade. “Thanks, Wooyoung. You’re not as scary as you pretend to be.”

“Don’t let the others hear you say that,” he said with a wink. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

YN smiled, her earlier worry replaced by warmth. Maybe the ocean was still scary, but with someone like Wooyoung by her side, it didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.

As the day passed, Wooyoung found himself growing increasingly aware of YN’s presence. Whether it was her soft laughter when she found something amusing, the way she tilted her head with curiosity at every little thing he showed her, or even the quiet moments when she was simply taking in the ship’s vastness—he couldn’t help but feel something stirring within him.

It wasn’t just her cheerfulness that got to him. It was the way she spoke with an honesty that seemed so rare, the way she made everything feel a little brighter, even in the vastness of the open sea.

At one point, YN was sitting on a crate near the mast, her feet swinging lightly as she hummed to herself. Wooyoung had been organizing some ropes nearby, but his hands slowed as he glanced over at her. She was just sitting there, doing nothing in particular, and yet he found himself staring.

What is wrong with me? he thought, shaking his head.

“Wooyoung?” her voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to see her looking at him with her usual wide-eyed curiosity.

“Yeah?” he asked, quickly snapping out of his daze.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked bluntly, tilting her head.

He blinked, caught off guard. “I wasn’t staring.”

She gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him. “You totally were. Do I have something on my face?”

“No!” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I was just… lost in thought.”

“About what?”

“Stuff,” he replied vaguely, avoiding her gaze as he returned to the ropes.

She frowned a little but didn’t press him further. Instead, she hopped off the crate and walked over to him, standing by his side. “You’re weird,” she said with a laugh, nudging him lightly.

“Thanks, sunshine,” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

As the day wore on, Wooyoung couldn’t shake the strange feeling. It wasn’t a bad feeling—just… unfamiliar. He found himself smiling more than usual, his mind wandering whenever she was near.

By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Wooyoung was leaning against the railing, watching YN as she marveled at the view.

She turned to him, her face lit up with excitement. “Is it always this beautiful?”

He nodded slowly, though his eyes weren’t on the horizon—they were on her. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice barely audible. “It is.”

And for the first time in a long while, Wooyoung found himself wondering if the ocean was truly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

A few weeks had passed since YN stepped onto the Halazia, and in that time, the ship had somehow begun to feel like home to her. She leapt around the deck with her usual cheerful energy, helping wherever she could, whether it was Wooyoung in the kitchen, Yeosang in the infirmary, or even Seonghwa and Hongjoong with their work.

“Hold this for me, YN,” Seonghwa said one afternoon as he handed her a map while he adjusted the compass in his hand.

“Like this?” she asked, holding it up as if she were presenting a prized treasure.

Seonghwa chuckled. “Perfect.”

When she wasn’t assisting Seonghwa, she was often seen pestering Yeosang in the infirmary, her endless questions making him both amused and slightly exasperated.

“What does this do?” YN asked, pointing to a jar of some strange salve.

“It’s for burns,” Yeosang replied patiently, though he didn’t miss the way she scrunched her nose at the smell.

“That smells awful!” she exclaimed.

“It’s medicine,” Yeosang said with a small smile. “Not everything can smell like roses.”

She laughed and quickly moved on to the next question, her curiosity never-ending.

And then, of course, there was Wooyoung.

She spent the most time with him, naturally. Whether it was helping him in the kitchen or following him around during his scavenger tasks, she was always by his side, her bright personality lighting up even the dullest moments.

But for Wooyoung, those weeks had been… confusing.

The strange feeling he had whenever he looked at her had only grown stronger. It was there in the way his heart would skip when she laughed, or the way he’d find himself looking for her whenever she wasn’t around.

“Wooyoung!” YN called out one morning, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning to see her balancing on the railing, arms stretched out for balance.

“Look! I’m not scared anymore!” she said, beaming.

“Get down before you fall!” he scolded, rushing over to steady her.

She laughed, hopping down with ease. But not without Wooyoung holding onto her. “I wouldn’t have fallen. You’d catch me anyway, right?”

Wooyoung sighed, shaking his head, though there was a small smile on his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re grumpy,” she shot back with a grin, poking his arm.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him. She had that effect on everyone, he realized—not just him. She had somehow charmed the entire crew, even the usually reserved Yeosang and the ever-serious Seonghwa.

But for Wooyoung, it was different. The way he felt when she was near wasn’t just fondness or friendship. It was something more, something that made his chest tighten and his heart race.

And as he watched her skip off to bother Hongjoong about something, laughing and smiling as if the world was nothing but sunshine, Wooyoung realized he was in trouble.

Big trouble.

That night, like every other, YN was tucked into the small bed they’d arranged for her in one of the crew’s spare quarters. Wooyoung sat on the floor near the door, leaning back against the wooden wall, his legs stretched out comfortably. It had become their nightly routine—talking about anything and everything before she drifted off to sleep.

“Wooyoung,” she started, her voice soft and a little drowsy already, “why do you like being a pirate? Isn’t it scary, always running into danger?”

He chuckled, resting his head against the wall. “Nah. It’s what I’m good at. And besides, it’s exciting. Who doesn’t like a bit of adventure?”

She smiled faintly, her eyelids heavy but still determined to stay in the conversation. “I think it’s cool… but I’d be too scared to fight. I’d probably just hide behind you.”

“You already do that,” he teased with a grin.

“True,” she murmured with a sleepy laugh. “You’re good at making me feel safe, though.”

His heart clenched a little at her words, but he kept his tone light. “Of course I do. That’s my job, sunshine.”

For a while, they continued their usual back-and-forth, her words growing slower and quieter with each passing minute. Wooyoung found himself doing most of the talking, filling the silence as she nodded off.

Then, mid-sentence, he heard her breathing even out. He paused, looking over at her. She had fallen asleep while he was talking, her head resting on the pillow, her face peaceful and relaxed.

A soft smile spread across his lips as he watched her, the moonlight filtering through the small window casting a gentle glow on her features.

“She’s cute,” he muttered to himself before he could stop the thought.

It hit him then, like it had been building up for weeks and finally clicked into place—he was falling for her. Hard.

But Wooyoung knew one thing for sure: even if it was love, he wasn’t going to say anything. She was his friend, his sunshine in an otherwise stormy world, and the last thing he wanted was to burden her with his feelings. She had enough to worry about, and he wasn’t about to make things harder for her.

Instead, he sighed quietly, leaning his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes. If staying silent meant she could keep smiling and talking his ear off every night, then he’d take that. For now, just being close to her was enough.

Wooyoung stood up quietly, ready to leave her room and let her sleep peacefully like every other night. But as he turned to glance back at her one last time, something caught his eye.

Her blanket had slipped down, revealing her arms—usually hidden under long sleeves. He moved closer, intending to fix the blanket like he always did, making sure she was comfortable.

But then he saw it.

His breath hitched as his eyes fell on her wrists, faintly illuminated by the pale moonlight. There were marks and scars, some faint and others deeper, etched into her skin like silent memories of pain.

Wooyoung froze, his heart tightening painfully in his chest.

No… he thought, his mind racing. She’s always smiling. Always happy.

He couldn’t reconcile the sunshine YN he knew—the one who laughed at his jokes, who skipped around the ship with boundless energy, who asked him silly questions every day—with the person who bore these scars.

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, and yet those scars told a story he didn’t know—a story she had never shared with him.

He clenched his fists, a wave of emotions crashing over him. Anger, sadness, confusion. How could someone as bright as her carry so much pain? And why hadn’t she told anyone?

Wooyoung gently pulled the blanket back up, covering her arms again. His hand hovered for a moment before he stepped back, his movements slow and deliberate as if he might wake her.

He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He replayed every interaction they’d had, every laugh, every smile. Had he missed the signs? Had she been hiding this from everyone the whole time?

And yet, despite the questions and the pain in his chest, one thought rang louder than the rest.

I’ll protect her.

Whatever she had been through, whatever had caused those scars, Wooyoung silently vowed that she would never have to feel that kind of pain again. Not as long as he was around.

The morning came with the usual rhythm of life on the Halazia. The crew went about their tasks, the sounds of footsteps and distant laughter filling the ship. YN, as always, was a ball of energy. She skipped onto the deck, her bright smile lighting up the day as she greeted everyone she saw.

“Good morning, Wooyoung!” she called, waving cheerfully as she spotted him leaning against the railing.

He smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something had shifted within him since last night, and even though YN seemed like her usual, bubbly self, he couldn’t stop the protectiveness that now gnawed at his chest.

As she wandered off to help Yeosang in the infirmary, Wooyoung found himself watching her closely, more vigilant than ever. His heart felt heavier, knowing the scars she carried beneath her sunshine exterior. He couldn’t let this eat him up inside—it was too much.

Without thinking too much about it, he made his way to the captain’s quarters.

Hongjoong was seated at his desk, a map spread out before him as he carefully marked their next route. He glanced up when Wooyoung knocked and motioned for him to enter.

“What is it?” Hongjoong asked, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms.

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his swirling thoughts into words. But this was Hongjoong—his captain, his guide, his second guardian. If there was anyone he could trust, it was him.

“It’s about YN,” Wooyoung began, closing the door behind him.

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed slightly. “What about her? Is she alright?”

“She is,” Wooyoung said quickly. “At least… I think she is. But…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“But what?” Hongjoong pressed, his tone serious now.

Wooyoung took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. “Last night, I… I saw something. She always wears long sleeves, and I never thought much of it, but her blanket slipped, and I saw her wrists.”

Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but the sharpness in his eyes told Wooyoung to continue.

“They’re scared,” Wooyoung said quietly. “Like… she’s been through something. Something bad. And she’s always smiling, always acting like she’s fine, but I don’t think she is, Captain. I don’t think she ever was.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he processed Wooyoung’s words. “And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Because I don’t know what to do,” Wooyoung admitted, his voice almost breaking. “I want to protect her, but I don’t know if I’m doing enough. I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone. And—” He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I care about her, Captain. More than I probably should.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Wooyoung’s words hanging in the air.

Hongjoong studied him carefully, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Wooyoung, you’ve always been someone who cares deeply about the people around you. That’s one of your strengths. But you need to tread carefully here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Hongjoong said slowly, “that YN isn’t just anyone. She’s someone who’s clearly been hurt before, and if you push too hard or too fast, you might end up hurting her even more.”

Wooyoung nodded, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’d never hurt her.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Hongjoong said, his tone softening. “But she might not be ready to talk about whatever’s happened to her. You have to be patient. Be there for her, but let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Wooyoung exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I just… I hate the thought of her suffering alone.”

Hongjoong gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’re doing more for her than you realize, Wooyoung. Just keep being her friend, her safe place. That’s what she needs most right now.”

Wooyoung nodded again, his resolve strengthening. “Thank you, Captain.”

As he left the room, Wooyoung felt a little lighter, though his heart still ached for YN. He would take Hongjoong’s advice to heart. He would wait, be patient, and let her set the pace. But in the meantime, he’d keep being the one thing she could always count on: her protector, her friend, and her silent guardian.

Wooyoung stepped out onto the deck, the salty breeze ruffling his hair as his eyes scanned for YN. He spotted her near the railing with San and Jongho, her arms waving animatedly as she spoke. The two men stood there, half-amused, half-bewildered, listening to whatever silly tangent she was on this time.

“Wait, wait, let me get this straight,” San said, holding up a hand to stop her. “You’re asking me if a sword can cut through a cannonball?”

“Yeah!” YN exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I mean, they’re both metal, right? So if you hit it hard enough…”

San burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “You’ve been reading too many stories, kid.”

Jongho, who had been leaning against the railing, shook his head but couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Even the sharpest blade would shatter before it cut through solid iron.”

“Aw,” YN pouted, crossing her arms. “I thought pirates could do anything!”

San laughed harder, wiping a tear from his eye. “We’re not magicians, sunshine.”

Wooyoung stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold. A warm smile crept onto his face as he saw how easily YN interacted with them now. When she’d first come aboard, she’d been hesitant, hiding behind him whenever the others were around. But now, here she was, chatting away with San and Jongho like they’d known each other forever.

It felt good to see her like this—happy, carefree, and finally warming up to the crew.

“You’re really curious about everything, aren’t you?” Jongho said, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“Of course!” YN said brightly. “I’ve never been on a ship before, so I want to learn as much as I can. Like… do you guys ever get scared of storms? Or, oh! What happens if someone falls overboard? Do you just throw them a rope, or—”

“Whoa, slow down,” San said, holding up his hands. “One question at a time, sunshine!”

Wooyoung chuckled softly as he approached them, leaning casually against the mast. “Looks like you’ve been keeping my brothers busy.”

YN turned to him with a beaming smile. “Wooyoung! Did you know San once fought off five guys by himself?”

San puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying the attention. “It was six, actually.”

“Here we go,” Jongho muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t let him fool you, YN. He probably tripped over a barrel and took them all down by accident.”

“Hey!” San protested, but YN was already giggling, her laughter light and infectious.

As they continued talking, Wooyoung couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. She wasn’t just his sunshine anymore—she was becoming theirs, too. And that made him happier than he could put into words.

The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the ship provided a soothing background as Wooyoung and YN sat on the deck. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink. YN was carefully folding a piece of parchment, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration as she tried to perfect the origami bird Mingi had taught her.

Wooyoung watched her with a soft smile, his elbow resting on his knee as he sat cross-legged beside her. He loved seeing her like this—calm, happy, and free to express herself.

“Wooyoung,” she suddenly said, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! It’s simple. One person asks a question, and the other has to answer truthfully. No skipping. Deal?” She held out her pinky finger, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Wooyoung chuckled and linked his pinky with hers. “Deal.”

The game started innocently enough, with lighthearted questions that made them both laugh.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” she asked.

“Once, I fell off the ship during training and blamed it on a loose rope,” Wooyoung admitted, grinning sheepishly.

She burst into laughter, nearly dropping her origami. “You didn’t!”

“I did. Yunho still hasn’t let me live it down,” he said, shaking his head.

When it was Wooyoung’s turn, he asked, “What’s your favorite food?”

“Anything sweet,” she answered easily. “The sweeter, the better!”

The game continued, each question becoming a little more personal, a little more revealing. Wooyoung learned that YN’s favorite color was blue because it reminded her of the ocean and that she used to dream of being an adventurer before life tied her to the store.

Then, as the playful banter lulled, Wooyoung asked the question that had been weighing on his heart.

“Where are the scars from?”

As soon as the question left Wooyoung’s mouth, YN froze, her body stiffening as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“W-what?” she stammered, her voice shaky, eyes darting to her hands in panic.

“Your wrist,” Wooyoung said, his voice softer this time but unwavering. “I saw the scars. Tell me what happened.”

Her heart raced, her palms growing clammy as she clutched the half-folded paper bird. She couldn’t face him, couldn’t answer the question. Without another word, YN shot up from her spot and darted away, her footsteps echoing across the deck.

“YN!” Wooyoung called after her, but she didn’t stop.

She didn’t know where she was going, her mind clouded with panic, but her feet carried her to Seonghwa’s quarters. She knocked quickly before opening the door, her chest heaving as she stepped inside.

Seonghwa was seated at his desk, a book in his hands, but he looked up at her abrupt entrance. He immediately noticed her pacing back and forth, her hands trembling as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt.

“YN,” Seonghwa called gently, setting the book down and standing up. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” she started, but the words caught in her throat. She stopped pacing and turned to him, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

“YN,” he said again, walking over to her slowly, his voice calm and reassuring. “Breathe. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I…” She hesitated, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him about her wrists, couldn’t tell him about the scars, but she didn’t know how to explain the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

Seonghwa waited patiently, his arms crossed but his gaze kind. When her bottom lip quivered and her eyes spilled over with tears, he stepped closer and placed a steady hand on her shoulder.

“Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone,” he said softly. “You can tell me, YN.”

Her shoulders shook as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, trying to compose herself. “It’s just… it’s too much,” she finally whispered.

“Too much?” he prompted, his voice careful, coaxing.

She nodded, her voice trembling. “I—I don’t know how to explain it. Everything’s just… overwhelming.”

Seonghwa nodded in understanding, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed. “Take your time,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her.

She clutched the fabric tightly, sniffling as she stared at her lap. “I just… sometimes I feel like I can’t keep up. Like I’m trying so hard to be happy, to be… me, but it’s exhausting.”

Seonghwa crouched down in front of her, resting a hand on her knee. “You don’t always have to be the sunshine, YN. It’s okay to feel tired. It’s okay to need help.”

YN's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the weight of her emotions overwhelmed her. Her hands trembled as they clung to Seonghwa’s forearm, her grip so tight it felt as though she was holding onto him for dear life.

Seonghwa didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, a steady anchor in the storm of her panic. He knelt in front of her, his calm presence a stark contrast to her spiraling emotions.

“YN,” he said softly, his voice like a gentle tide. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, slowly… and out through your mouth.”

She shook her head, her tears streaming freely. “I—I can’t,” she choked out, her voice cracking.

“You can,” Seonghwa reassured her, his tone unwavering. “I’m right here. Just focus on me. Look at me, YN.”

She hesitated but finally met his gaze, her teary eyes locking onto his calm, reassuring ones.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Now, follow my breath. In… and out.”

She tried, mimicking his slow breathing, though her breaths still hitched with sobs. Her fingers dug into his arm, and he didn’t so much as wince. Instead, he reached up with his free hand and gently dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief, his movements deliberate and careful.

“It’s okay to cry,” he said softly, his voice unwavering. “It’s okay to feel scared. You don’t have to apologize for how you feel.”

Her sobs quieted slightly, though her grip on his arm remained as strong as ever. She clung to him as though letting go would cause her to crumble entirely.

Seonghwa stayed patient, his calmness never faltering. He wiped her tears every so often, his hand moving with the same care as someone handling something fragile. “You’re safe here,” he reminded her. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

His words were like a lifeline, grounding her enough to slow her racing heart. After a few moments, her breathing began to even out, the tightness in her chest loosening bit by bit. She loosened her grip on his arm but didn’t let go entirely, her fingers still clutching him lightly as she hiccupped through her tears.

“Better?” he asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied gently. “You’re not alone, YN. You never will be.”

Though her tears hadn’t fully stopped, a flicker of warmth spread through her chest at his words. Seonghwa’s presence was steady and unwavering, and in that moment, she felt just a little bit lighter.

After leaving Seonghwa’s room, YN made her way to her quarters. Her steps were slow, her mind a swirl of emotions she couldn’t quite pin down. She opened the door quietly, her gaze immediately landing on Wooyoung sitting cross-legged on the floor near the door, as he always did at night. His head lifted when he saw her enter, concern evident in his eyes.

“YN, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted firmly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her. She stood before him, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the hem of her sleeves.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something, but she silenced him with a look. Slowly, she rolled up her sleeves, the fabric slipping upward to reveal the scars etched into her wrists.

Wooyoung’s breath hitched as he saw them up close for the first time, the pale lines stark against her skin. His heart ached, a heavy weight settling in his chest as he looked at her, at the vulnerability she was showing him.

“This is what you wanted to know, right?” YN said, her voice soft but laced with a mix of courage and apprehension. “You wanted to know where the scars came from. Well… here they are.”

Wooyoung stood slowly, his movements careful as if afraid any sudden action might scare her away. He didn’t say anything at first, his gaze flicking from her wrists to her face.

The silence lingered for a while before YN took a shaky breath, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She stared at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper as she finally began to speak.

“My mother…” she started, pausing to collect her thoughts. “She wasn’t… normal. She was cruel. A maniac, really. She’d punish me for anything and everything—spilling a drink, speaking too loudly, even just… existing.”

Wooyoung sat perfectly still, his gaze fixed on her, his heart breaking with every word.

“And her punishments,” YN continued, her voice trembling, “they weren’t like what most kids go through. She didn’t yell or ground me. She… she used a whip. Always on my wrists. Always in the same place. I can still feel it sometimes, even now.”

Wooyoung’s fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t interrupt, letting her speak at her own pace.

“My father tried to stop her,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “He did everything he could, but she didn’t care. She was… relentless. And then, one day, she just… overdosed. Died right there in the house.”

She swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she rubbed at her sleeves. “You’d think I’d feel relief, right? That the nightmare was over. But I didn’t. I fell into this… dark hole. A part of me hated her, but another part of me missed her. I was so confused, so… lost. And that’s when it started.”

Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat as she glanced at her wrists, her voice quieter now, as if she were confessing a sin.

“I started hurting myself,” she admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. “At first, it was just to feel something—anything other than the emptiness. But then it became… addictive. Like I couldn’t stop. Every time I felt overwhelmed or scared, it was my way of coping. It felt like the only thing I could control.”

Her voice broke, and she wiped at her cheeks, the tears now falling freely. “I hate it. I hate what I’ve done to myself. But it’s so hard to stop. Even now, there are days when the urge comes back, and I have to fight it with everything I have.”

Wooyoung moved closer, his heart heavy as he watched her crumble in front of him. “YN…” he said softly, his voice laced with pain and understanding.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and shame. “I didn’t want you to know,” she whispered. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I thought I’d be fine keeping it to myself, but now… now I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” Wooyoung said firmly, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him. “You have me. You have Seonghwa, the captain… all of us. You’re not alone, YN. Not ever again.”

Her lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded, the smallest bit of relief shining through her tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Wooyoung reached out, hesitated for a moment, and then gently placed his hand over hers. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said softly. “And I’ll remind you of that every day if I had to”

For a moment, she saw nothing but sincerity and warmth in his eyes. “I’ve already burdened Seonghwa enough tonight,” she said with a small, forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re not a burden,” Wooyoung said immediately, his voice firm. “Don’t ever think that. Not to him, not to me, not to anyone.”

The corner of her lip twitched upward, a small, grateful smile breaking through. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Wooyoung nodded, his expression softening. “Always.”

Without another word, she sat down on the edge of her bed, and Wooyoung returned to his spot on the floor near the door. The air between them was quieter now, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt lighter, like a silent understanding had settled between them.

And for the first time in a long while, YN felt a small sliver of peace.

The following days on the ship were like a fresh breeze in YN’s life. The weight she had carried for so long didn’t feel as heavy anymore. She laughed more, her usual sunshine-like personality shining even brighter now that the storm inside her had started to clear. She could feel it—she wasn’t alone anymore.

Wooyoung noticed the change in her, and it made his heart swell with pride and affection. She still leaped around the ship like a child, asking silly questions and sometimes pestering the others for answers. But now, there was something different about her—the way her laughter came from a place of genuine joy, the way her smiles reached her eyes.

And Wooyoung… he couldn’t stop looking at her. Every time she smiled, every time she glanced his way, his heart raced. He knew what it was now, that feeling that had been growing inside him from the moment he met her. He loved her.

She had become his light, his reason to be better, his reason to fight. And though he wasn’t brave enough to say it aloud, he showed it in every little thing he did. Whether it was sitting outside her door at night to keep her company or silently slipping her favorite snacks into her bag, his love for her shone through his actions.

For YN, Wooyoung had become her pillar, her safe place. She loved the feeling of knowing someone had her back, someone who cared for her as deeply as he did. It was something she’d never had before, and she treasured it more than anything.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, YN sat on the deck, her feet dangling over the edge. Wooyoung sat beside her, his usual playful demeanor softened by the quiet moment.

“Thank you,” she said suddenly, her voice carrying a softness that made Wooyoung turn to look at her.

“For what?” he asked, tilting his head.

“For being here,” she replied, her eyes fixed on the endless ocean before them. “For being my friend, for being my… everything.”

His heart skipped a beat, and he smiled softly. “You don’t have to thank me for that, YN. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

She turned to him then, her eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. “You’ve made me feel… safe. Happy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t say anything, afraid he might ruin the moment. Instead, he reached out and gently took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.

And in that quiet moment, with the ocean stretching endlessly before them and the stars beginning to appear in the sky, they sat together, content in the knowledge that they had each other.

For YN, it was the start of a new chapter, one where she wasn’t defined by her scars but by the happiness she was finally allowing herself to feel.

And for Wooyoung, it was enough to simply be by her side, loving her quietly but completely, knowing that she was his light just as much as he was hers.

[grimscrossing]

[putiflowy]

⁎❈ Seong Gi-Hun (nsfw) alphabet ❈⁎

A... (Aftercare)

Gi-Hun is very caring and loving after sex. He doesn't mind that you are covered in sweat or need cleaning. He takes his time to relax after an intense session of sex with kisses, hugs and a lot affectionate words. He cares a lot about his performance, so he will ask things like "did you like it?" or "is there anything I can do to make it better next time?". Gi-Hun will listen carefully to what you have to say and will apply it next time you have sex with him.

B... (What is his favorite body part?)

If Gi-Hun had to chose one body part of yours it would probably be your ass. Whenever he gets the chance he will slap it or give it a firm squeeze. He loves to watch how your butt wiggles as you walk upstairs.

C... (Cum)

Gi-Hun loves to receive blowjobs and his favourite part about it is when your mouth is full of his cum. He enjoys seeing it drip from your lips or when you swallow it.

D... (Dirty secrets)

Despite its innocent appearance, Gi-Hun is a bit of a pervert and can't stop thinking about sex. Seeing you in his pajamas or with tight-fitting clothing is enough to drive him crazy. He will often ask you to have sex in public spaces and since you are a little freak too, you easily join him. There has been times where you have been caught, but that doesn't stop you from anything.

E... (Is he experienced?)

Seong Gi-Hun as the 50 year old man he is, he has had some previous experience. After all, he was a party animal in his teens. Then, he got married but it didn't end up very well. Since the Squid Games, he hasn't been very active sexually speaking... until he found you.

F... (His favourite sex position?)

Gi-Hun enjoys almost every sexual position. He likes to vary not only the positions, but also the locations. He enjoys a good missionary as he gets to see you face while he slams his cock inside you. Though, sometimes he will prefer for you to be on top, riding his cock.

G... (How good is he?)

Gi-Hun cares so much about your pleasure he will dedicate a lot of time just for you to be extremly aroused. So, yeah, he is pretty good.

H... (Hair)

Gi-Hun isn't a particularly hairy man. He has some black hair in his pubic area and other parts.

I... (Intimacy)

Gi-hun loves to moan your name out loud and hold your hand while you're giving him a blowjob. He is the type of guy who gives passionate kisses as he penetrates you.

J... (Jacking off)

Gi-Hun often watches amateur porn to learn new things to try with you. He also loves to jack off to the nudes you send him. There was one time you caught him masturbating to one of your sexy videos. To make the fantasy real, you decided to recreate it and give him a live version of the video.

K... (Any kinks)

Gi-Hun has a huge ass colection of sex toys, for both of you. His online shopping cart is always full of different toys (dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, penis rings...). When you receive a new package from the postman you always ask him "what's this?" to which Gi-Hun always answers "I think you might like it... wanna try?".

L... (Locations)

From time to time, Gi-hun loves to have sex in public spaces. If you go shopping with him, in no time you'll be getting undressed in the fitting room. He also loves to fuck you in bathrooms and in his car. Despite loving to fuck in semi-public spaces, this isn't always possible. Gi-Hun also likes to have sex in the bedroom, the kitchen or in the shower.

M... (Motivation)

It's very easy to get him turned on. He doesn't need any ostentatious lingerie. His old pajamas are enough to make him horny. He also loves it when you take the initiative.

N... (NO)

Gi-Hun is not the type of guy who is into choking, bondage or any sort of thing that could hurt you. To show you how vanilla he is, the most BDSM thing he enjoys is slapping your butt (softly). If he does hurt you while doing so, the aftercare will involve massages, food, reassuring words and other sorts of princess treatments.

O... (Oral)

Gi-Hun loves to eat you out. He is the kind of guy that will take his time until you cum for him.

P... (What pace does he go at?)

The pace depends on what you want. If you want him to go faster, he will keep up the pace until his legs start shaking. If you want him to go slowly, he will do it in the most romantic way you've ever seen. When you don't tell him anything he will try to read your needs and adapt the pace.

Q... (Opinions on quickies?)

He likes them. Mostly when you are fucking in a fitting room or in another semi-public space. However, when you are in his place, he takes his time to satisfy you.

R... (Does he take risks?)

Gi-Hun likes the risk of fucking in a semi-public space. Once, he tried to go wilder and have sex in the park... but you got caught. He remembers that day with a lot of shame. Now he tries to be more careful and find and empty parking spot or a fitting room that has enough privacy.

S... (Stamina)

He can last a lot of time in bed as long as he is playing with you. Once he cums, he needs some time to recover.

T... (Is he into toys?)

Yes! He uses them all of the time.

U... (Is he unfair?)

He loves teasing you. He will caress all the places around your parts just to get you even hornier. He does the same with the toys and you have to beg for him to use them.

V... (Volume)

Gi-Hun is a very LOUD man. When you are all alone he won't have any control over himself. You don't mind this as his yelps of pleasure are one of the sexiest things you have ever heard.

W... (Wild card)

Gi-Hun loves to tease you by sending nudes. He has learnt a lot of sexy ways to take photos from Pinterest. He puts special care with the lightning, what he's wearing, the filters and most importantly, the angles.

X... (X-ray)

His dick is quite average, but enough to give you pleasure.

Y... (Yearning)

Since he met you, his sex drive has been wild. He masturbates a lot thinking about you. He understands that you might not be in the mood everyday and enjoys a good cuddling session just as much as sex.

Z... (Zzz...)

It takes no time for this man to fall asleep on your chest after he is done.

I'm writing one with In-Ho... stay tuned!

[khaire-traveler]

⚡ Subtle Zeus Worship 🦅

Falling asleep or meditating to the sound of rain

Playing in the rain; splashing in puddles, dancing, just having a jolly old time

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Have a candle that reminds you of him

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Celebrate/display your achievements

Be kind to yourself

Learn to take pride in yourself; be your own role model

Have a stuffed animal of a bull, lion, or an eagle

Have imagery of eagles, storms, or kingship around (eagles are especially good in an evangelical household (US especially))

Collect rain water (you're welcome to use it for watering plants or the like)

Participating in voting, if able

Learning about and practicing healthy conflict resolution skills

Learning to compromise with others

Doing any kind of hard or challenging work that needs to be done

Educate yourself on your rights (legally); keep up to date on new bills and laws; join groups that support bills and laws you support, especially in favor of human rights

Support human rights, humanitarian, or natural disaster aid organizations

Volunteer at homeless shelters

Give a warm meal to someone in need

Donate items to thrift shops and shelters

Spend time with your loved ones

Honor your home; make your space your own

Express yourself in little, if you can't be open (wearing a bracelet to represent your gender, pride flag colored shoelaces, etc.)

Make a list of goals at the end of every month; the goals are things you wish to accomplish during the next month

Invest in your future; save money, apply for further education, look into future career ideas, etc.

Watch movies that inspire and empower you

Bake things with cinnamon and honey

Listen to music that feels empowering

Cloud-watching; maybe try to learn divination through clouds as well

Educating yourself on the history of Ancient Greece, especially the culture

Practicing standing up for yourself; asserting your personal boundaries; learning what your boundaries are

-

May add more later on! This is my list of discreet ways to worship Zeus, for the time being. I hope this helps, and enjoy! 💜

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[goorehound]

Silco / Viktor Chapter 2

chapter 1

ao3

Still workshopping how I want this to look, so if anybody has any feedback please let me know! And for the people who showed interest in chapter 1, I’m voluntelling you to read this (and share your thoughts if you’d like!) @hextechdystopia @eyeofclaws @greaseofficial @dubiousbread488 and the last person it won’t let me tag lol.

Summary:

Silco, a newer (and far from proud) resident of Piltover, is struggling to raise his freshly teenage daughter Jinx in the uppercity after a messy divorce. Teenagers are difficult, and a new school is always an adjustment.

Viktor, a begrudging and very overqualified high school teacher (after a falling out with his old business partner) is desperately trying to keep his promising student afloat. If only her father were not such a stubborn bastard that refuses to work with him.

Lately, broaching certain conversations with Jinx had become more of an art form, learning when to apply pressure and when to offer her space to fill the silence of her own volition. And Silco had been waiting patiently, until all that remained in Jinx’s bowl was the dregs of her overly sweet cereal. Perhaps the time to apply some pressure, then. “I asked you a question.” He prompted quietly, eyes examining her expression.

Surprise graced it first, brows raising high - then confusion, as they lowered back down into a furrow. “Oh. I forgot.” She spoke as he brought a spoonful of porridge to his lips, exhaling an amused breath at her absentminded behaviour. Often, she had more important things going on to bother focusing on measly breakfast conversations.

“Vandalism. At school. Have you done any?” He asked, giving up on his breakfast. Eating in the morning only ever made him nauseous, but he’d learned the hard lesson that if he skipped a meal then Jinx would follow suit and it was really not worth the bickering. Modelling certain behaviours and healthy habits was sometimes the only way to encourage Jinx, which he’d grown accustomed to. She loved to mimic. He recalled her, chubby cheeked with wide eyes, following his every footstep. Trying to brush her teeth exactly like him, giggling whenever he smiled, copying how he built his blocks into a tower. His little shadow. Oh, simpler times. It was cute the small ways in which that fixation lingered.

“Sometimes.” Jinx shrugged noncommittally, pulling him from his reminiscing. “When I get bored, I guess, doodling on the wall or whatever.” Minor, then - but she did have a very specific art style, and colour scheme, unique enough to be noticed. Not worth the hassle it could turn into. Jinx partaking in graffiti was not alarming in and of itself but the fact that it was at school? He thought he had warned her thoroughly of the risks of being placed in a Piltover school. Jinx slurped loudly from her bowl as he pondered this.

“I see.” Silco brushed a hand through his hair before rising from his chair and collecting their dishes, once she had drained the remnants of her own. “Perhaps we should be more cautious at school, hm? Like we discussed.” He spoke calmly and with an air of finality. “It isn’t worth the risk, you know how uptight they get about their decor.”

Clearly this did not sit well with his daughter, and he heard her irritated groan above the droning sound of the sink as he rinsed the silverware. The sound alone told him exactly with what level of dramatization that she had rolled her eyes, and he braced himself for whatever complaints would follow. “Who cares? I don’t even want to be at this stupid school.”

This had become a recurring theme of conversation over the last two months, and there had been an uptick in frequency as of late. Silco could admit that he was tired of this back and forth, he did not feel he’d had enough hours of sleep to handle this once more. He only hoped his patience would win out.

“You were excited to start. It will take some adjusting, but the opportunities at this school will be a benefit.” Silco scrubbed the washcloth within the bowl in a soothing rhythm, focused intently on it. It was already pristine.

“I don’t need it.” Jinx barked back, and Silco could feel the daggers she was glaring into the back of his head. Scrubbing the lip of the bowl, there could be food caught in the chips.

“You don’t need school?” Silco asked incredulously, fingers hesitating in their compulsive cleaning. That was new. The complaints had only ever before indicated that she may want to be in a different school, perhaps back in Zaun - but no school at all was an interesting development.

“No. Vi hasn’t done school since she was 15,” Jinx pointed out, proud of her statement. As if she’d caught Silco out in some way with this fact. “And Pops is fine with it, he even helped her get a job.”

When the bowl clattered to the bottom of the sink, Silco knew he would not be proud of whatever words flowed out next. He was a man of great restraint, but there was something about a teenager that tried the patience in a way nothing else could - especially when the teenager was your own. It seemed as though she had a sixth sense for what the most aggravating, skin crawling thing she could say next to push him to his limit.

“That is because your sister lacks any potential to be anything besides a hired muscle, or a mindless drone in the mines, and she is as witless as your Pops.” Silco bit out ruthlessly as he dried his hands off, already feeling the regret curdling in his stomach. These were not helpful things to say, and he knew it. “I will not hear another word about you not needing school, child.”

The silence was suffocating. Exacerbated by the drip, drip, drip of the sink in front of him, and he really must fix that. Jinx could fix it, if he asked, but somehow now did not seem like the most opportune time. He should really turn around and face the music, much as he loathe to admit he’d made a glaringly obvious mistake. Akin to a bull in a china shop when it came to parenting he was recently developing the outstanding talent of shoving his foot in his mouth.

Jinx’s expression was as devastated as he had imagined, pinched somewhere between distraught and wrathful. Being the cause for such strong and conflicting emotions on her face felt like a swift blow to the kidney.

“Grab your bag, please, you will be late for class.” Silco spoke quietly, watching her lip tremble to hold something back. Either tears or a shouting match, he was sure. “We can pick up whatever snack you would like on the way over.” He added to hopefully balm over some of the anger.

“You suck.” Jinx said with finality as she threw herself out of the chair, hands balled into fists and body jittering with restless energy. He hoped he could talk her down before she unleashed this rage on some unsuspecting student. Or teacher. Silco had made quite a mess of this morning, hadn’t he?

“I’ll meet you in the car.” Silco replied without acknowledging the minor outburst, going about adjusting his vest and hair as he snatched his keys off of the ring. The walk down from the top floor of their apartment would give him time to calm, to simmer down until guilt won over frustration. He would take the morning off, he told himself soothingly, and he would get in some more sleep.

—————

After picking up an ice cream, without a single comment from Silco about how that was a terrible way to start the day, they drove with Jinx’s music blaring at an impressive level. It eased her nerves, he thought, noises reflecting back the chaos that was her beautiful mind. Also, it proved useful to drown out Silco’s voice entirely, which he assumed was a big part of the reasoning behind it.

When they pulled up to the lot is when he turned the music to a tolerable level, making an attempt to meet Jinx’s eyes. She was putting very good effort into pretending he was not present.

“I’m sorry for what I said about your sister, and Vander.” Silco watched some tension seep from her shoulders. Normally not a man to often make genuine apologies, but Jinx was ever the exception. “Your sister struggled with school, and it wasn’t fair of me to use that against her.”

“She is smart.” Jinx finally conceded and looked over, no longer existing in a realm where Silco was a buzzing mosquito with nothing important to say. “And I don’t want to be here.”

Silco heaved a breath and reached over to fix a flyaway hair in the sea of blue atop Jinx’s head. “We can talk about that more later. Play along for now, hm? Check out the library. Take advantage.”

Jinx did not seem necessarily happy in regards to the fact that he did not immediately bend to her will and withdraw her from classes that moment, but she no longer seemed to be trying to make him explode with her thoughts when she deigned to acknowledge his presence. So, that was progress.

Some form of assent was muttered as she left the car, and Silco gratefully unpaired her phone from the stereo system to play something a bit less abrasive on the ears.

Absolutely he was due for a nap, as much as that aged him to say, he could not wait to be wrapped in his duvet and dead to the world for the next few hours.

[gatheredfates]

Hi everyone! It's been a hot minute since I did a Compendium update, but I promise I'm not dead. For those who don't know, I got a new job! That meant pretty much the entirety of October was spent wrapping up my old job, going to my new site and trying to learn the new one. I'm on break in approximately two weeks, yay! ☃️

These updates will take on a wintery/Starlight theme to celebrate the season, much like All Saints. I hope you enjoy.

Additionally, myself and the lovely folks at SEAFLOOR are having a Catch up (for) Starlight Challenge! You should join us if you're interested. ❄️

However, without further the following communities have been added to Sea's Community Compendium for XIV Creatives.

LARGE SCALE

The Help Lines—We are a community-based discord to be used to play the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV. We host almost all content including DRS and BA, Raiding, Deep Dungeons, Blue Mage and more. Our mission is to create a welcoming space for any individual in need of assistance to reach out and accomplish their FFXIV goals in a toxicity-free environment.

The Aether Entertainer—Founded in 2021 on Aether, The Aether Entertainer is player-made virtual magazine covering music, theatre, art, current events, and Eorzean popular culture.

LORE

Final Flowery XIV—Compiled by ann0yance(bsky)/@sa8oteur, this guide explores the various flowers in XIV, comparing them to their real-world equivalents and meanings.

On Elementals, Accountability and Criticism—An essay written by @morgana96 that explores the lore of elementals and their place in Gridania (and beyond)!

MISC

Vanilla Gpose Tips by Winterdeepelegy—A how-to guide on effectively utilising the vanilla gpose tools to create visually stunning screenshots, written by @winterdeepelegy.

WoL Reference Sheet—Created by @coldshrugs, a handy WoL reference sheet you can build in Canva!

NA GPOSE Studio/Themed Housing Directory—A player-made repository of North American Gpose studios and themed houses!

CHANGELOG

The Scholar's of Nym—The link has been modified at the request of the owner.

Skystone Co.—Has been removed at the request of its owner.

UI Macro Menus—The link has been modified to accurately reflect the bookmark.

Have you thought about joining our Tumblr Community? You can find it here!

Want to submit? You can either fill out the google form here or send me an ask with the relevant information!

Is my space suitable for the Compendium? Most of the time, yes! Below the read more is some more information/stipulations. This is all publicly available on the document. 🦌

Below are the following things I do not accept on the Compendium:

Personal/Single-Character LFC ads. (Though these get posted to the SEAFLOOR Tumblr Community when I find them!)

Content intended for or can be used for bullying, harassment and OOC gossip. E.g. ‘Secrets’ blogs, receipts, callout posts, etc. This does not include IC tabloid blogs or other ventures used to generate roleplay.

Communities that do not have an RP/writing element (large-scale exempt).

Anything I find personally distasteful or goes against the spirit of this project.

Common-sense rule applies.

I want to put my community on the Compendium but we have an application process. Is this okay?

Yes! Just note somewhere in your application that's a requirement. The only thing that is mandatory for the Compendium is that you must be open to new members or have a public-facing/accessible facet. There's no point advertising a community if no one can join it in some way!

I want to put my Community on the compendium but I only have x number of members —

Also totally okay! People don't start with large communities. Activity is a must but, whether your server has two or two thousand members, if you're looking for new people to join, I'd love to help you find people.

I want to put my community/resource on the Compendium but I worry its too niche?

Okay, and? If your Eorzean Fishing Alliance has four members but you roleplay every second weekend, I still want to know about it. The same goes for resources; if it's relevant to the game, it'll be useful to someone.

How active does a community need to be?

If you find a community has not been active in about two/three months, send me a message and I'll take a look at it. Communities have ebbs and flows, especially event spaces that may take hiatuses depending on member interest/life events. I'm not strict in my implementation provided a space isn't dead. If a link or anything is broken, contact me asap!

I have [insert a question not stated here]?

No drama! Send me an ask or use the #Compendium channel in my Discord!

[jvliaxox]

My favourite quotes from the Neapolitan novels

To cause pain was a disease.

... there are no gestures, words, or signs that do not contain the sum of all the crimes that human beings have committed and commit.

'What does "a city without love" mean to you?' 'A people deprived of happiness.'

I thought of the neighbourhood as a whirlpool from which any attempt to escape was an illusion.

'For your whole life you love people and you never really know who they are.'

'Life without seeing and without speaking, without speaking and listening, life without a covering, life without a container, is shapeless.'

They dived in without hesitation, Lila with a long cry of joy. They were happy, full of their own romance, they had the energy of those who successfully seize what they desire, no matter the cost.

... the beauty of things is a trick, the sky is the throne of fear; I'm alive, now, here, then steps from the water, and it is not at all beautiful, it's terrifying; along with this beach, the sea, the swarm of animal forms. I am part of the universal terror; at this moment I'm the infinitesimal particle through which the fear of every thing becomes conscious of itself.

It was as if she wanted to take the power away from even the realistic possibility of violent death by reducing it to words, to a form that could be controlled.

... it's not the neighbourhood that's sick, it's not Naples, it's the entire earth, it's the universe, or universes. And shrewdness means hiding and hiding from oneself the true state of things.

... every choice has its history, so many moments of our existence are shoved into a corner, waiting for an outlet, and in the end the outlet arrives.

The mind, ah yes, the evil is there; it's the mind's discontent that causes the body to get sick.

While men devote themselves to undertakings in space, life for women on this planet has yet to begin.

The new living flesh was replicating the old in a game, we were a chain of shadows who had always been on the stage with the same burden of love, hatred, desire, and violence.

How much I had lost by leaving, believing I was destined for who knows what life.

... we struggled to understand what a woman was. Our every move or thought or conversation or dream, once analysed in depth, seemed not to belong to us.

Eve can't, doesn't know how, doesn't have the material to be Eve outside of Adam. Her evil and her good are the evil and good according to Adam. Eve is Adam as a woman. And the divine work was so successful that she herself, in herself, doesn't know what she is, she has pliable features, she doesn't possess her own language, she doesn't have a spirit or a logic of her own, she loses her shape easily.

Oh God, how out of order everything was: they, I, the world around us: a truce was only possible by believing lies.

In what disorder we lived, how many fragments of ourselves were scattered, as if to live were to explode into splinters.

Should I remain this shadow -- my mother, all our female ancestors -- or should I let her go?

So what resurrection? It was only cosmetic, a powder of modernity applied randomly, and boastfully, to the corrupt face of the city. It happened like that every time. The scam of rebirth raised hope and then shattered them, became crusts upon ancient crusts.

Where is it written that lives should have meaning?

... evil took unpredictable pathways. You cover it over with churches, convents, books... and the evil breaks through the floor and emerges when you don't expect it.

Every intense relationship between human beings is full of traps, and if you want to endure you have to learn to avoid them.

... I want to leave nothing, my favourite key is the one that deletes.

I am still alive -- I thought -- and yet I can't feel any different from that big body lying lifeless in that sordid place, in that sordid way.

Unlike stories, real life, when it has passed, inclines towards obscurity, not clarity. I thought: now that Lila has let herself be seen so plainly, I must resign myself to not seeing her anymore.

[little-mouse-gardens]

Yandere outlaw turtles and sheriff reader au

Another rottmnt au that popped up in my head (romantic)

Warning: Mentions of violence, blood, murder, weapons, alcohol unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping (do not condone this behavior in real life. this is only for entertainment purposes only)

I don’t normally do character x reader writing (mostly because I’m not great at it) I mostly do character x oc stuff.

Gonna say, thanks @lexiechr for inspiring some of my ideas!

So…I rewatched the movie rango….and I’ve been seeing the cowboy turtles au going around and rattlesnake jake, one of the Antagonists in rango, is feeding into my brainrot

Yan outlaw turtles with a newly appointed sheriff reader after they defeat some criminal and are made sheriff.

Basically reader lives out in the old west, on a nice ranch with their cattle surrounded by the wide open spaces alongside their trusted steed and two loyal canine companions.

After catching a well known criminal for the town, albeit by accident, they are appointed as the new Sheriff of the town.

Slowly, reader begins Learning the ropes along the way. From tracking crooks down to learning a variety of methods like archery and even some tricks with herbs to catch and bring back criminals.

As they continue their duties as protector of the town, they start to hear rumors about a band of out laws known as the hamato brothers. Turtle mutants that are deadly criminals with an extensive record of robberies, murders, arsons, tortures etc. you name it.

Reader, in over their head and with no other options, ends up being thrown into conflict when the turtles (separately) end up coming into town to cause chaos. Stealing, scaring and harassing everyone ect. And reader is doing their best to stop them.

When the person who raised reader gets hurt by one of the turtles, reader. Just goes quiet. No more mild panic, just silence.

Slowly turning their head to look directly at the turtles. Everything seems to fall silent as they slowly walk towards them. Boots jingling and pistol, containing the last bullet, clutched tightly in their hand.

Reader just Calmly walks up to them. All the while the turtles are mocking them, basically saying ‘you ain’t got the nerve to shoot’ and reader just stares them down keeps the gun pointed at them with their figure apply the tiniest amount of pressure as a silent warning and says ‘try me’ with zero hesitation.

In that moment, seeing the sheer bravery of this new sheriff, the turtles (separately) fell head over heels for reader. Reader forces these guys to get out of town and a celebration is held In readers honor.

However for weeks after, reader notices odd things. All of the sudden, other crooks they’re supposed to bring back to town comply instantly. no chasing, no gun fights, no cursing. Hell one of the guys even confessed to everything. When reader would press them as to why they were going so easy on them…they just say because there are some more powerful criminals out there who promised not to chop them up if they did.

Whenever reader does see the turtles. They never get the chance to fight, or at least can’t due to doing the right thing if no crimes are being committed. Reader is given dozens of gifts (most defiantly stolen off someone or a lot of people), flirted with and promised a life of love, luxury and adventure if they’ll ride off into the sunset with them. Gifts and letters left on the doorstep of her ranch and some of her ranch chores already miraculously done before they wake.

Reader notices a lot of the people who would talk with them, or are close to her suddenly go missing or come up dead. All with the same calling card, a note written in blood stating ‘for those who try and take whats mine’

To say the least, reader is terrified, but determined as hell to protect their town.

So, reader makes sure to get as much information as possible. Especially after they nearly get kidnapped by the turtles (once again, separately) one evening after patrolling the outskirts of town.

They question everyone they can, from the mayor to the arsonist awaiting trial. And they accumulate a good catalogue of knowledge on the turtles.

They live out near the forested mountain area where the plains fade into pine forests and rocky cliffs inside of an old ranch that they conned a wealthy rancher into giving them. Acres for them to hide stolen goods, cattle and hell even bodies they don’t want found.

Raphael - most notorious from town to town. Victims of his crime sprees are always found beaten to a pulp. Bones broken, face unrecognizable. Primary and expert cattle thief. Herds of cattle missing, wrestles bulls albeit tenderly with zero effort to get them to go where he wants them to. No criminal or person wants piss him off, out fear for their lives.

Leonardo - a true manipulator. A con artist with deadly accuracy. There is no situation he can’t weasel himself out in and out of. However if manipulating the smuggler or bank teller into giving him what he wants, he can always just portal them into a bears den or pit of rattlesnakes if they prefer not to cooperate? Or he’ll just have to start chopping off limbs if- oh? They want to talk now? Well that’s just peachy~

Donatello - a doctor with a level of knowledge and skill that no one wants to mess with. Torture and experimentation can and will be on his list of options when it comes to getting what he wants. An expert in trade and all things related to chemicals, machinery that can be sold and traded in. Plus he knows everything there is to know about banks and how they work, plus he will test if the moonshine they stole or were ‘generously granted’ is worth the price. If it isn’t well….run for the hills

Michelangelo - expert thief. No roads, bakery’s, art museums or galleries are safe from him. Most of his victims get strung up, left for buzzards to pick at with At with taunting messages. Bakeries and the craft store give him things for free, no charge in bundles or hell, even the all the stock if it means they get to go on another day unscathed. Another expert in manipulation, he’ll be sweet until he decides other methods will have to be used, he thinks often times poisoning food is a good method to get someone to do as he says.

Reader keeps this information in the back of their mind at all times. Making sure to exploit their weakness in an effort to make sure nothing happens to anyone in their town. Up until the point the turtles literally threaten to blow the town up into dust unless reader agrees to come live with them and agree to be their spouse in nine month time. Which leaves reader with only two options.

Take the risk. Call their bluff and tell them no or…agree and save the town from destruction and doom

Reader, after careful contemplation and realizing that The turtles aren’t really bluffing, decides to sacrifice themselves for the safety of the townsfolk.

Another thing reader notes is that, even if they manage to disarm the explosives, they are screwed anyways. The turtles know where they live, sleep, and who they care about the most.

Reader knows Kidnapping is not above the turtles and if reader rides out save their loved one, how will they know if it’s a trap and their loved one is dead?

The risk is just to great.

So, much to readers dismay, they are forced to go with them.

Dread in their eyes standing next to their trusty horse carrying their belongings. their two trusty canine companions at their side. Slowly showing the turtles their silver engraved gun and badge before dropping both to the ground as way of saying ‘fine. You win. But don’t you dare hurt these people’

When reader gets back to the turtles ranch, they just go off into the guest room to cry. But still, there’s still an ounce of determination in the sheriff. If they have to act like a doting partner who accepts the turtles for their diabolical crimes then so be it. But they won’t break readers spirit.

If that means letting raph cuddle them and sit with him while he tends to the dozens of cattle they have stolen from other farmers? then reader will sit there and bottle feed a lamb, calf or foal and let him gush over how cute they are.

If that means allowing leo to give them dresses and jewels while settled across his lap while he brags about the jeweler he killed and whispers sweet affectionate words to them? then reader will just settle there quietly. Occasionally complimenting his confidence and strength.

Sitting out back in the shed with donnie while he works on different types of poisons, gadgets and maps for the next wave of crimes that they could commit. Complimenting his genius and the gifts he makes for reader while he absentmindedly pressed kisses to their temple and bragged about his invention

Willing to Riding out with Mikey to let him paint reader and painting with him under the stars with a picnic of food if it means preventing him from running another wagon off the paths.

All the while reader just sit backs and plots. Plots and awaits the right opportunity, maybe a month or two before the wedding to escape.

With the outlaw au turtles, when reader tried to escape at first. It was in the middle of the night, takes their dogs and their horse and just rides off into the hills towards the nearest settlement through the woods. Sending the turtles (separately) into a panic when they realize their beloved fiancé is not in bed.

and Literally from night to the early hours of the morning is all chaos for everyone around until reader is eventually caught and brought back to them. Burning buildings, civilian casualties, ect.

And when reader is brought back, the turtles (separately) decide it bust to make the wedding date sooner rather than later. Keeping their beloved under watchful eyes so they can keep them safe and closebye. Making sure to do everything possible to coax reader to love them back and accept their new life.

[tex-now]

I think my interpretation of what mephone4's recovery would look like shifts a little depending on how old he is. Like, not by much, but by a little bit.

This is basically just me rambling about mephone4 during/post-canon. I love mephone4 he makes me ill so I want to ramble. Let me have this.

If mephone4 is an adult I think that putting more responsibility on his actions than if he was a child is necessary.

He is an abuse victim, he was scared, unsure, desperately trying to escape his abusive father and became extremely jaded (?) and traumatized because of it, BUT he still put a lot of mental turmoil on his contestants, and traumatized many of them in turn. He still hurt so many of them so badly and that is inexcusable (he is aware of this).

Hes emotionally constipated and repressed to a fault and is by no means a bad person but like. Tissues. Suitcase. Taco. Bow. Any of the contestants that wouldn't forgive him are completely valid to do so, and it's HIS responsibility to improve himself and his behavior so that, if he ends up meeting them again, he doesn't repeat the previous patterns he has in the past.

His general veneer of cockiness, apathy, and being kind of an asshole to his contestants, his showing bias and unfair inconsistent challenges, being generally dismissive of his contestants feelings, are all things he did. I do think it's a result of having cobs as a father and all the trauma he's experienced as a result of that, buuuuuut he needs to work on himself and only he can fix his bad behavior (with the support of family and hopefully a therapist).

Which is why I think mephone4's apology was extremely needed and I am SO FUCKING GLAD that they were like "yeah mephone4 fucked up. He should give everyone space to grow into new people and so that he can also grow and finally do something for himself so that he can be truly happy instead of just living on the high of escapism and and projecting his issues and problems onto his contestants." (<- all of this is said lovingly. I promise I love him so much. nomming on him).

He absolutely needs a loving support system and also 10 years of therapy and he's already on the right track :) he needs to learn to hold himself accountable for his actions (which he is starting to I'm so proud), and how to effectively communicate his feelings along with not taking them out on others and that takes time, but I believe in him I love him so muchhhh hic hic sob.

If mephone4 is a child then his situation is 10x more tragic oh my god. You can definitely acknowledge that his actions were fucked up on several levels, but him being an abuse victim (which definitely hindered his emotional development) PLUS literally most likely not physically mature enough to process his own feelings and the actual implications of what he's done to his contestants then, yeah, I would give him more grace.

(I'm pretty sure this also applies to if he was an adult but yeah), I can't speak for everyone, but a common defense mechanism ive noticed in young people around me (and myself personally) is apathy and indifference towards everything, even topics that would typically be upsetting or uncomfortable to talk about.

Instead of dealing with your emotions or the pain you cause other people, you laugh it off and avoid it for as long as you can, and usually when you can't avoid it anymore, you become defensive and anxious. (Once again. In my experience. And from what I've seen from other people. Avoidance instead of acceptance).

Of course, this doesn't mean that the contestants would be evil for not understanding or not forgiving him. What he did was fucked up, and children also need to take responsibility for their actions as it is a crucial part of their emotional development.

But he's still a child. The things he would need to work on would not be things he could do on his own. He needs someone to take care of him and help him.

Not any of the contestants, definitely, but someone to take him in and show him the unconditional parental love he never got to have. It's less on him to deal with his shit (even though it's still on him to an extent) and moreso about having someone to help him fix his behavior less so by like personal self reflection on his own (too young for that) and moreso by being shown the right behaviors and having a safe person to tell him when he's wrong who will still provide unconditional love to him and help him reflect on his behavior. (Like like ballpoint pen 🥺🥺)

Anyway I love mephone4. Idk I just wanted to ramble this has no real point. Lol

[deepestdelulu]

Embrace your loneliness

Apply a facemask and watch a movie. (my guilty pleasure, lol..)

Read a book, article, or blog...

Watch a tv show. I'm currently watching Gossip girl.

Try to learn a dance from youtube. It can be an entertaining way to work out.

Paint your nails. Nice hands are always pleasant to see.

Go to the grocery store and buy some snacks.

Try a new recipe.

Go for a walk. Try to reach at least 10k steps daily. There are very nice apps for calorie and steps counting.

Take the 16 Personalities test. I'm an INFP :)

Write a letter to your future self. There is an online page called futureme where you can, as the name indicates, write to your future self <3

Bake something for beloved ones.

Test old pens and throw away the dry ones. As a big fan of stationary I have to admit I should start doing this.

Watch the sunrise or senset. I personally prefer sunrises.

Take a long bath. Try bath bombs, new scented candles while having a bath and girl, just chill, it must be tiring to be that perfect every day.

Make a birthday wishlist. Pinterest and tiktok my biggest alies for this.

Make a bucket list.

Research something. Learn about curious things, it´s very attractive talk with someone cultured.

Make a vision board. Having clear goals will make your way to success easier or at least faster, since you will not have to be thinking about what your next move should be.

Go to a new coffee shop.

Scrolling Tiktok for the next hours. Not recommended to do it everyday, but yall know, we've all been there.

Cut/dye your hair. I love long hair so I don´t cut it oftenly (just trim) but I try to have always my curtain bangs styled.

Create a new playlist.

Make a photo wall. Do it for me, my gotele wall would never let me :(

Make your room cozy.

Accomplished your to-do list.

Update your wardrobe, I´m sure you have there some old stuff. (I do as well)

Learn how to crochet. My last project was a book cover for a frind of mine.

Make yourself a drink, like a tea, coffee, or smoothie!

Clean your digital space. (emails, photos, apps, etc...)

Plan some outfits, so that you don´t have to rush in the mornings.

Feel free to add more advice :)

✩‧₊*:・see ya ･:*₊‧✩

[lamardeuse]

This is not a Wendy's, and my story is not your burger.

A note up front: the following does not refer to the serious issues of racism, anti-Blackness and white supremacy in fandom spaces, which deserves a much more nuanced discussion than a ridiculous food metaphor could ever hope to express. This is a general discussion of fandom standards around tagging and warnings.

Over the three – now nearly four ��� decades that I've been in fandom, I've seen a lot. I've seen a lot of foolishness, and a metric fuckton of toxicity, and even some good faith, honest debates about how we should conduct ourselves as we move through fannish spaces and interact with one another. So from the start, let me explain that this is not the old lady crabbing at the kids. None of this is particularly new, and fandom culture ebbs and flows. Heigh-ho, nonny nonny, the wheels roll on.

That said, we need to have a talk. Because some people may not be as experienced as the rest of us, and need to understand some fundamental truths about fandom that they may not have picked up, because no one reads Fanlore from top to bottom for fun. That's not inherently a concern. We all learn from one another – I've learned so much from younger people in fandom, particularly here on tumblr – but there are occasions when younger fans could also benefit from some knowledge flowing the other way.

First, fandom is vast. It was huge when I started in the Dark Ages, and it's increased exponentially in the last fifteen to twenty years, since “geek culture” has gone mainstream. That widening of the circle – and more importantly, the naked commercialization of it by media giants who smell our money like vampires in a blood bank – is both a blessing and a curse, because on the one hand, more people who love a thing means more love for everyone! On the other hand, though, I think it's unmoored us in some senses from the fundamental truth that fandom is unhinged, joyful obsession, the fulfilment of a need for communication, creative expression and connection, and most importantly – community.

Yes, fandom is – or should be, at its best – a community first and foremost. And just like any community, it's filled with individuals who form groups, subgroups and cliques. And none of those groups have ever, in the over half a century since the first Star Trek fan made Kirk and Spock fuck, agreed upon one single, overarching view of what 'community' means. Which means the minute you as a fan come striding up to another fan's little electronic nest on the AO3 or Youtube or tumblr demanding that standard X be applied to their fannish creation in the name of 'fandom courtesy' or 'fandom etiquette'? All the old ladies (gn) in fandom realize that you are desperately, painfully new*.

Does that mean that we shouldn't strive to be a community? Of course not. But I would argue that the single and only “rule” of that community is that we make an effort to treat each other, first and foremost, with kindness and grace, and the understanding that the person you are interacting with is not you. They're not even one of the fifty-two people you interact with on Discord who all agree to the same “rules of fandom” (newsflash: they probably don't). And if you come into their fannish space as a stranger demanding they cater to you, you are probably going to be in for a shock.

Commercialization complicates this issue, because I think one element that's new is that some of us have lost sight of the fact – or never learned – that fans do not place their creations in front of you like a server handing you a bag at a fast food drive thru window. They are not producing a commodity to be consumed for which you paid hard earned money that entitles you to certain rights, such as the right to complain if you ordered a burger with mayo and received mustard instead. You would certainly have a right to demand compensation if you're allergic to mustard and had to go to the hospital as a result.

Fandom is more like a potluck, a gigantic potluck with literally millions of dishes. At some tables, there are agreed upon warnings for certain allergens, but others are not required to be mentioned and if you have an allergy, you will need to ask directly. At some tables, you are told that there may be allergens in any of the dishes and you proceed to eat them at your own risk. That risk and your assessment of it is, for better or worse, entirely your responsibility to manage. And your preferences – level of spice, aversion to certain textures and flavours – those are not allergies and there is no prior agreed upon standard to break down every possible element of a dish so that you will always be able to avoid any contact with the foods you personally don't like. There never has been, and there never will be.

The only thing you can be certain of is that on every single table, there are dishes that people have created for you for free with love, effort, experience and care. If you walk up to that table and take a bite and then politely turn down any more, that's fine. If you take a bite, spit it out and loudly tell that person that is not what you were expecting, you wouldn't have tried it if you'd known what it tasted like, and you are appalled that this person did not inform you of every single ingredient before you tried it? You, my friend, are not going to be welcome at the potluck.

Fandom is not a Wendy's. The stories, songs, costumes, artwork, edits that we put out into the world are not mass produced burgers made in a giant factory and shipped to restaurants where you can rest assured that the burger you eat in London will taste the same as the one in Dubuque. And no, the time you invested in reading a fic, watching a vid or contemplating a piece of artwork posted freely on the internet is not something you have the right to demand a refund on either, because again, fandom is not a fast food restaurant, and our interactions with one another in fannish spaces are not transactions. Every creation you choose to put in front of your eyeballs took that person time and energy, and they are putting that out in the world to make a connection with other human beings.

The next time you leave a comment, choose connection. It's easier than you think.

(*I'm going on good faith here and presuming most people who do this are relatively new to fandom. I'm not counting the people who think it's fine and dandy to hurl abuse at strangers for not obeying their standards – those people should be blocked and excluded on sight. I sincerely hope that they get help for the demons that are chasing them and telling them this is an acceptable way to live.)

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

꒰ა If only I were yours ໒꒱

Kaeya, your best friend and only your best friend, admires you while you get ready to go out and wonders what could be of the both of you if only you returned his feelings.

bestfriend!Kaeya x fem!reader II unrequited love, nonmutual pining

“You know, you’re already the most beautiful girl in the world, you don’t have to do all…this.”, Kaeya cooed into your ear with his warm, saccharine voice, watching dutifully as you agonized over your makeup for your night out. “You might do the other women who have to share the room with you a favor and take it easy.”

You only rolled your eyes, continuing to apply your lip liner like you hadn’t heard him, as you always did when Kaeya chided you for your vanity—like he was one to talk.

You never took him seriously; his little remarks of "Darling" this and "Beautiful" that, it was just his way of entertaining himself.

You understood that fact, and you could see past his flirtatious demeanor for the man he really was; roguish, risky, but overall deeply caring and kind, funny and, surprisingly, introverted despite his natural charisma.

That’s what made you such good friends.

You could take his poking, prodding, and any other sort of teasing remarks he dared to dish out, and he could rely on you to understand him deeper than anyone else did, care for him when he fell apart, but also be the firm hand that could keep him in line when he went too far.

When what he mistakes as fun, casual flirting ends up breaking another girl’s heart, you’re always the one to smack him upside the head for it. When he orders another bottle of dandelion wine for himself while barely able to keep from falling off his barstool, you’re the one to drag him out of Angel's Share by his ponytail. Archons knew no one else would. And though he bellyached through your scoldings about the sensitivities of a pure heart or importance of a healthy liver, he'd learn and change.

"Whatever would I do without you by my side?", he'd hum with that dashing grin across his face, like you hadn't just ripped him a new one.

But being Kaeya's best friend wasn't all mother-birding, he had your back when you needed it too.

And you needed it tonight.

Tonight was one of those nights where you were expected to show up at an event per a friend's request. You weren't all that interested in going out tonight anyway, but what made the situation a touch more daunting was the fact that an ex of yours would be present, to which you called for Kaeya's aid in attending alongside you as your plus one and awkward reunion deterrent---an offer he was thrilled to accept.

"Why do you even go to such lengths to look good for some pinhead that broke your poor heart?", Kaeya murmured, taking it upon himself to pin up your hair with a pretty silver clip that rested in your jewelry dish.

"I'm not doing this for him, I'm doing it to spite him.", you corrected.

"Darling, that is the exact same thing."

You gave him a warning look to which he conceded with a shrug and snuck his way into your chair---forcing you to split the space with him until you were finished getting ready. He rested his cheek on his hand as he admired your process, wondering why you cared so much about what some goon thought. You were too beautiful for him anyway.

Truthfully, in Kaeya's eyes, you were too beautiful for any man to have.

Well...he could think of one man deserving of you, but he would never tell you.

The connection you two had was too sacred, too old of a growth to be slashed and burned by his own romantic interests.

You'd been inseparable since the day you met; of course, he found you absolutely stunning upon first sight, a catalyst for his initial draw and desire to be close to you. You took his flirting with a grain of salt, laughing off his musings like they were jokes. What he never would have expected was, after that first conversation, he was determined to stick with you until the end. An initial introduction turned into you two spending the rest of the day chatting about whatever came to mind, talking like you'd known each other forever despite being perfect strangers. You drew deep confessions and secrets from him without even asking, all you had to do was sit there next to him and vulnerable words he'd otherwise keep close to his chest fell from his lips like rainfall. And you accepted them in stride, giving him your own intimate details in exchange. Since then, you two were attached at the hip, unlikely and unexpected confidants.

He'd planned on asking you out, he really did, but he didn't want to do so after just meeting you, it was too fast. However, the more time you spent together, the more precious and irreplaceable you became. He had never met anyone else like you, and he'd never felt more at home.

So, the brief windows he'd get to finally ask you out came and went, and he remained silent.

When he said he wouldn't know what to do without you, he meant it, so he wasn't about to risk losing you over a rejected confession.

That didn't stop him from often looking at you with a twinkle in his eye saved just for you, or twirling a strand of you hair around his finger when he gets bored, or paying for your food and holding in confidence what you'd only share with him.

He was just happy being as close to you as possible while you remained blissfully unaware...though, sometimes, the dull ache of desire he harbored in his chest twisted in ways that felt almost unbearable.

Though he tried his best to keep you from dating, always finding something wrong with the guys you were interested in, crashing your excursions or meeting your suitors at your door when they came to pick you up to interrogate them about their intentions with you, you'd still slip out of his grasp and into the arms of some new interest.

But even as you'd take your brief leaves from him to be with someone else, you'd always return to his side by the end of the day.

No matter how someone else would touch and kiss you the way he burned to, you were still his, closer to him than anyone else, and he could find some small relief in that fact.

And when your heart would inevitably be broken, he'd take to patiently repairing it time and time again. He bought you flowers or new perfume, cut or dyed your hair the way you wanted if you claimed you needed a change; although he had little experience with cutting hair that wasn't his own, he didn't trust anyone else with yours, so he insisted on doing it himself. He'd shop with you and help you choose a new wardrobe, go out with you to drink or party your cares away, hug you for hours and listened when you cried.

He'd do so happily, because when his own inner turmoil caused his eyes to leak and the scars from his past to open and bleed, you were the person who'd hold him and close his wounds.

For that, he'd always be grateful, even if one day, your arms wouldn't be open for him anymore. Maybe you'd eventually abandon him, or maybe they'd end up belonging to someone else, he hoped with every wish he'd get that the day would never come, but no matter what, he'd always remember those moments as the most precious memories he had to his name.

He did everything he could for you, gave you anything you asked for.

If only you'd ask for him.

As you fixed the clip he put in you hair, he looked on through the mirror at those eyes he found so inviting and thought about how, if he was yours, he'd make you feel better than anyone else would. He'd love you more than anyone else could.

Well, he already did, but then you'd know it.

But that risk that you'd say no, that you'd finally hold his deepest desires in the palm of your hand and send them right back to him, kept him quiet.

He'd rather have you like this than not have you at all.

With one last spritz of your perfume---a spray that not only covered you in your signature scent, but him as well due to his proximity, you were out of your chair and walking through your bedroom door in the direction of the party, tugging him along by the hand.

"Thank you for coming, Kaeya.", you said, smiling softly up at him with reassurance in your eyes. An expression that filled him with warmth and satisfaction.

"Anything.", he confirmed, and followed you out.

[takecareluv]

꒰ how to feel like a princess this summer ꒱ؘ ࿔*:･ﾟ

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ you don't need a castle, a fairy godmother or a team of helpful little mice to make you feel like a princess in your day to day life. all you need is your sweetest, most confident self and you are good to go .ᐟ here are a few tips & fun activities to do by yourself ( because a princess always enjoys their own company ! ) or with a friend, whether it's the furry kind or a fellow princess.

✧ ˖ ° ₊ ⊹ : ˚ ೀ ⋆

⨾ first things first, while a princess loves to spend their days frolicking in nature and soaking up the sun, they always protect their skin using spf. so whatever adventures you decide to take on this summer ( and all year round ) , be tedious about applying sunscreen. i promise, your future self will thank you for it.ᐟ

⨾ princesses have a natural glow about them. whether it be from the graceful manner in which they carry themselves, their beautiful smile that lights up a room, or the radiance of their skin - a princess takes care of themself, inside and out. so, to feel like one, be sure to prioritize self care & self love. create a skincare routine that works for you. keep a rose water spray with you for a quick refresh throughout the day. wear light, glowy makeup like cream blush, a lip tint, and a good mascara to emphasize those doe eyes. and find a signature scent people will remember you by.

⨾ wearing soft and light fabrics - like lace and linen - will keep you as cool as possible, while also feeling cute during these hot summer months. whether it's flowing dresses or light linen pants ; sandals or sneakers ; florals & pastels to more natural, earthy tones - wear whatever makes your inner princess shine .ᐟ

⤷ plus, adding little accessories such as frilly socks, ribbons, pearls and other dainty jewelry can be a fun, but simple way to add an extra bit of delicacy to your day to day look.

⨾ try putting your hair up in loose styles - such as a braid - or keep it down and flowing with beautiful, bouncy curls. and again, the simplest style can be elevated to 'princess level' with little details like decorating your hair with flowers, butterfly clips or a headband; tying ribbons and bows into your up-do, or even adding a satin scarf.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

✿. summer can be the perfect time to find a new passion, or perhaps reignite an old one .ᐟ for example : taking up a language , learning about greek mythology , writing & reading poetry , learning to sew or crochet , or learning to play an instrument ( piano, flute, violin, etc. ) - there are so many different hobbies to try this season.

⤷ and even better, with the warm weather, you can do them all outside surrounded by the beauty of nature - birds chirping in the distance, a gentle breeze dancing through the trees, and the sun shining down on you.

✿. like i mentioned earlier, a princess's best friend is mother nature. they love to spend time engaging with any and all of nature's elements. here are some ways you can do the same . . .

✿. start your very own garden .ᐟ

whether it be filled with an assortment of vibrant flowers, or even a mix of fruits, veggies and herbs, a garden is a perfect way to create a serene and magical place to spend your summer days. you can even add a chair or maybe lay out a blanket for a quiet little reading spot. plus. . . with a garden in your midst, you can pick as many flowers as you'd like to create your own bouquets or make flower crowns for yourself and friends .ᐟ ⤷ filling your space with flowers will definitely make you feel like you are living in a fairytale 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

✿. visit a farmer's market or go berry picking .ᐟ

🍓 picking your own strawberries, blueberries, or any other fresh fruit & veggies can be a cute way to stock your fridge and find the ingredients for your next recipe. 🫐 baking is another great hobby to pick up - especially for during those stormy summer days you have to stay inside. breads, muffins, cakes, and jams - there's so many things you can make using the fruit you hand picked; and an added bonus, it will keep your kitchen smelling super yummy .ᐟ

✿. have a picnic .ᐟ

take yourself on a date or round up a group of friends for a picnic at the park or on the beach. you can pack a basket of macarons, sparkling cider, and any of your other favorite treats ; find the perfect spot to lay your blanket, and maybe even bring some reading material or a journal to write in .ᐟ

✿. feed the ducks .ᐟ

if you have a pond nearby, you can take a walk & bring something to feed the duckies, turtles, or any of the other sweet creatures swimming around in there. if not, you can also make homemade bird food and treat those hungry little birdies singing outside your house every day. it could also be fun to take a trip to a local farm or petting zoo and feed some animals that way .ᐟ ⤷ if you do any of these things, please remember to do your research on what foods are good for our little friends, be respectful, and clean up after yourself. princesses don’t litter .ᐟ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

if the sun is not shining or you are looking for other ways to spend time like a princess, here are a few more ideas to add to your summer bucket list. . .

ᥫ᭡. take a trip to a museum and wander its halls, admiring the magnificent artwork in all its beauty.

ᥫ᭡. visit your local library or bookstore and spend the day picking out your next read.

ᥫ᭡. play dress up with your closest friends and have a tea party.

ᥫ᭡. try painting pottery. you could even paint & personalize your very own tea cup or jewelry box .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. send a handwritten letter to a loved one or a pen pal. and while you’re add it, you can get some practice writing in cursive .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. pamper yourself a little extra with a bubble bath - adding in rose petals, filling the bathroom with candles, and treating yourself to a plentiful amount of ladurée macarons - in good ole blair waldorf fashion.

࿐a princess always walks with their head held high. they know what makes them feel like their most confident self, and they don't shy away from it by trying to be anyone else. with that being said, always be your true, and authentic self - don't change just to fit a certain 'aesthetic' - take what you like from it, and leave the rest. it is important to do & wear whatever makes you feel comfortable, because in turn you will also feel your most beautiful - as a princess always should .ᐟ

xoxo, meg ♡

[moyazaika]

Professor.

One of the most disgusting things that exists in this world is the human mind. The human mind is the source of all bad things humans do, consciously and unconsciously. It’s where we have our darkest and most private thoughts. It’s also the place where we have our involuntary thoughts. The thoughts that you have, the ones that you disagree with, but still have because they are as true as your disagreeing ones.

I hated the college that I went to. Not because it was a bad one, it was one of the best, but because I was always surrounded by people who thought they were better than everyone else. People that would look at the “lower” colleges and think about how stupid those people must be if they only got into “that one”.  The teachers weren’t much better. No matter how much some of them try to deny it, they will always feel a sense of superiority compared to other college professors, because they work at this one. They also feel a sense of superiority over the students, which doesn’t go unnoticed by new arrivals. When you are new to a space, you go in more aware of what is going on. People that have studied there long enough get used to how people view them, or in this example how teachers view them. But new arrivals, they notice how the teachers always seem to have a hint of……well….as if they are speaking to a child when they speak to them. Making the new arrivals feel belittled. 

Humans can ignore a lot of things, but being belittled seems to always strike a nerve.

I never wanted to return to the campus. It’s a beauty to the eye and an annoyance to the mind. But business is business. If this could even classify as that.

They wanted me to work here. Despite my distaste for the school and most who stepped foot on it, I was a great student even for their high standards. Since a young age I’ve strived to always want to know more, but I wasn’t a young genius (a common lie teachers tell about me when they brag that I was in their class, no matter what grade).  I was smart, sure, but only when I applied myself, which wasn’t often. I only cared to study things I wanted to, anything else that I “needed” to study, well…I nearly failed a few grades. And the things I wanted to study were either not part of what we needed to study, or they were things teachers considered far too “advanced” for me. 

Looking back, I can’t blame them. Who would encourage a ten-year-old to learn a new language when they were failing the grammar of their first language?

My interests always revolved around the same things. I loved reading books, so I wanted to read as much as possible, meaning I knew a lot of random things. And despite what some self-proclaimed “educated” people say, reading fiction is actually quite good for you. It helps you be more empathetic, increases your vocabulary, and makes you understand people even more.

(The first one is quite useless if you plan to go to the same college as me. You’ll get stepped on like a cockroach by overly polished shoes that cost more than your rent if you act to nice and understanding. Fair warning.)

I know it sounds like I’m honking my own horn. “oh, look at me, I was smart as a kid but my teachers didn’t notice. I went to a top college and am an ungrateful bitch, wow”.

No. I hate that some people know that I have a good head on my shoulders. You can’t play dumb when you want to. You think too much when you are like that, too self-aware of what you are thinking and what that means.

I had that as a kid too. I was always hyper aware of people and what they were thinking. I had what some people would say an exceptionally high emotional intelligence from a young age. I could know exactly what someone was feeling from watching them, and I could guess what the cause what, even if I barely knew them. That always helped me in school a lot, avoiding fights, stopping fights, and getting on the good side of the scary people.

But I’m getting off topic.

Long life story short, I became a “genius”. I learned multiple languages for fun on my own time because that was what interested me. I wrote stories because that was what interested me. I studied languages and psychology because that was what interested me. I got into this college and did well when I applied myself. Well enough so that years later, when I did well with my books that they wanted me to do lectures.

I wanted no part in it. But my favorite teacher, Mrs. Welling, asked me personally to at least talk to Mr. Rossi. Mrs. Welling was the only teacher I liked past elementary. She is as old as the books in the library. Her skin is withered like the paper too. So, I came. It’s hard for me to say no when people that I actually like ask me to do something. Something I’m also hyper aware of.

…

I knocked on the door to his office, a little sign on the door with neat black font saying “Mr. Rossi”.

“Come in” I never met the dude, but I knew it was him, it was a male voice, and you could just hear from those two words alone what kind of person he was, and wanted to be. You could hear that he well educated and tried to seem even more educated. You could hear the hint of an accent that he desperately wanted to hide. You could also hear he was young, late twenties. Though I guess that last one it unfair since I already knew that about him. He was a new teacher to the school, and Mrs. Welling had told me about him in the letter she wrote (she’s one of those old women that send letters with pressed flowers from their personal garden).

I opened the door and looked around.

The entire room was made of wood. The walls were beautifully carved with dark wood, candles littered all around lighting up all the books on the shelves (all bound with leather or cloth, a professor would never dare have a modern looking book in their office). Despite the room having no windows it was well lit with all the candles. It smelled like, you guessed it, burning candles, paper, and……a cologne. I tried not to grimace at the smell. It smelled nice, but I never liked the smell of cologne when I didn’t expect it. I got used to it quickly.

It reminded me off all the other rooms in the school, not specifically from the layout, but the feel. The type of place you could go mad in if you were mentally well.

Mr. Rossi was sitting at his desk, smiling. He had dark brown hair that reached his shoulders, styled in a “messy way” that looked good. He had dark eyes with lashes that any woman would envy, and thick eyebrows. And sun-kissed skin, but not in the orange glowing way, the type that is dark and cold. Like the sun has touched his skin but not his soul. If I had to make a guess, he was Italian.

“You’re early, are you actually interested? Didn’t take you as the type to play hard to get and then seem interested.”

I looked at him with my usual expression, nothing. An expression that has protected me from all the wolf in sheep’s clothing at this school.

“No, I just hate being late, and the sooner I get this over with the sooner I can work on my next book.”

He smiled at me, I hated that I knew what that look in his eyes meant. I missed my house, somewhere to be alone. 

“Please, take a seat, I was hoping that I could convince you to truly be interested in my offer.”

I sat down and debated quickly how to sit. He’s a smart man, so he’ll know however I sit will indicate how I feel. I decided to sit straight with my hands laying on top of each other in my lap. Indicating that I’m not relaxed, or comfortable, but that I’m not resorting to self-soothing behavior that would indicate weakness. Though my hands desperately wanted to rub together.

He stared at me, still smiling, and I stared back at him. I knew what his eyes meant, his politeness couldn’t get rid of it. He was interested. Not in getting me to work here, though he also would benefit from that, but he was interested in me as a ….concept? thing? It’s hard to tell sometimes.

“You’re quite an intriguing case you know.”

I didn’t respond.

“Most students when they get out can’t wait to talk about their time here, some wishing they could have stayed longer. Or at the very least brag any chance they get. But you never once mentioned it publicly. Not in your books, interviews, anything.”

“That’s my private life, I see no reason to bring it up in my work.”

Stop looking at me like that. Stop looking at me like that.

He was curious, he wanted to pick apart my brain, he wanted to know what I was thinking, he wanted to know what I was feeling, he wanted to know know know know know know.

“You know the students here often say you are one of the few real writers in this generation. They could really benefit from having someone like you in lectures.” He used an encouraging tone, one you would use to encourage a child to try a new hobby.

“I don’t care much for teaching, and I don’t agree with their opinion. There are plenty of great writers in this generation. I’m hardly a rarity.”

“Modest as ever,” He praised, “but they are saying the thing everyone else agrees with. So, you’re outnumbered there.” 

He leaned backwards in his chair a little and continued,

“You never advertised your books, just published them under a pen name and left them, not caring if people read your books or not, just wanted to publish them.  Not like the money hungry “great” writers that you speak of. You’ve never done anything to try and get you more money. The only interviews you’ve ever done were when people wanted advice and help from you, or to understand your stories more, you don’t care for advertising. You-“

“Me not advertising myself doesn’t mean I’m great, and as much as I would usually prefer professionalism, I would prefer now if you stopped trying to praise me into saying yes to your offer.”

I hated it I just wanted to leave. Both because I knew I didn’t want the job, but because I knew too much of what he was thinking. Being hyper aware of people’s thoughts is never fun. And being hyper aware of your own is even worse.

He looked at me….in…. that way……I…..stop thinking about that and move on, get away around it already for fucks sake.

I interrupted him before he could say anything.

“Thank you for the praise, and you can tell your students that I appreciate it, but I’m not interested in working here or any other teaching job. Not even for a few short lectures. I like my private life, and I’m not interested in anything that deviates from that.”

He smiled. He didn’t fail to smile once.

“I understand. And I agree, that being professional will only drag this out, so I’ll get to it a little.”

He leaned forward, in a way that tries to impose authority.

“You fascinate me, as you already know.”

I didn’t deny that, waiting for him to continue.

He pulled out a book as he continued to speak, “One of the main things that teachers often pointed out when looking back on the time you spent here was that you are very perceptive. I looked into your files and saw that you avoided a few….incidents…because you detected the signs. Good intuition.”

He flipped through the book as he spoke, the book had no cover title to show what it was about.

“Darlings that are that aware tend to try and avoid dark topics, their minds already occupied with such thoughts, but you seemed more than interested in those thoughts. Your library check outs show that you were highly interested in books about psychology, specifically darling psychology, though you had more than the average amount of books on the OTHER psychology.”

He listed a few off in the book he was looking at. The book was about me clearly.

He looked at me again, trying to search my eyes for what I was thinking, and when he didn’t find what he was looking for he continued.

“You seem to also have a high level of empathy, not just in your general EQ score but some of your personal essays.” He flipped through a few pages of what I assumed were those essays.

“You seemed to have a very understanding view of you-know-what’s, explaining the different reasons they feel the ways they do, both biological reasons and psychological reasons. You never villainized them like how some others do.”

He looked in my eyes again, searching for something, “why is that?”

I stared back at him.

“…. understanding and open-minded.”

He smiled, but it seemed more real this time, “you really are a sweetheart behind those dead eyes of yours.”

I was getting nervous, it didn’t show, but I felt it. I was becoming more and more aware of our surrounding, his breath, his movements, and what I picked up on him. And I became more and more aware about what I was feeling.

“Did you ever read “The Lying Heart” by Emily Gatsby?”

“Yes, it’s a study on how some darlings develop an attachment to “certain” people, despite them being aware that those feelings are wrong. No doubt you already knew that I read that book from my records.”

“You seemed fond of that book, no?”

“She’s a great writer, and her research was amazing, even though it wasn’t appreciated at the time.”

He nodded.

He closed the book before looking at me.

“why didn’t you press charges against the man that tried to kidnap you?”

…

…

…

…

I didn’t answer and didn’t plan to.

I got up.

“This seems to have went down a few wrong turns, Mr. Rossi. I came here out of politeness to listen to you offer me a job I don’t’ want. Instead, you go in circles about me and then bring up private business from when I studied here. I’ll be leaving now.”

He hadn’t been going in circles, he was going straight down a path that I never wanted him to reach the end of.

I walked to the door and already had my hand on the handle, when he said it,

“You’re “a lover’s dream”, aren’t you?”

I froze.

I heard him laugh, and I turned around I saw that he had also gotten up from his seat and made his way to me but kept a good distance between us.

I contemplated my actions, 

“You’re incorrect.”

“now don’t try to lie no-“

“I’m a “Darling’s Self hell”.”

Saying it out loud made me have to silently accept all the thoughts I was having the whole time. The way that I thought he was attractive from the beginning. The way that despite how much I hated the way I felt preyed upon by his eyes that tried to look into my soul, I found it highly attractive. The way that I liked how he gave off an air of threat, of danger. Not the danger to me physically, or mentally (technically), but the attraction of danger.

He smiled, but this time it was a real smile, a wolf like smile that I still found attractive,

“I’m glad we finally stopped beating around the bush. Now….where does that leave the two of us? You already know I’m infatuated with you, and I know that you have an unwanted attraction to me.”

He approached me a bit more, I walked around him, keeping a distance and avoiding a door being behind my back.

“I don’t plan to kidnap you, that’s not something I personally fancy doing. What I do want though, is you indulging that part of your brain that finds this attractive. Indulge me a little.”

It sounded so tempting, I hate to admit it even now, but it was so tempting. To indulge that part of my brain that liked this, that loved this.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t say yes, or nod.

“Since we have both clearly read “The Lying Heart”, we both know that Miss Gatsby clearly illustrated that a “Darling’s self-hell” have unwanted, intrusive thoughts that they don’t agree with. The same way some self-aware you-know-what’s aren’t fond of their mind either. So we both know that I would never agree to such an arrangement.”

“And, yet, you didn’t press charges against him. You didn’t’ seem to care then about what was socially acceptable.”

“Those are two very different levels of socially unacceptable.”

“Some people have already outcasted you for having sympathy for a “lover”, how much worse would it be to be with me?”

“I would say it’s the difference between burning yourself on a candle, and jumping into an active volcano.”

He chuckled, “A lot of the students here actually find me quite charming.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“No, not like that, I don’t engage with students, how low do you think of me?” 

“Low enough to bring up personal matters that happened while I was still a student here. Bringing them up while you’re actually supposed to be professional by offering me a job. And low enough to not take a no.”

He nodded, “Fair.”

It didn’t matter that he was attractive. It didn’t matter that I found his forwardness attractive. It didn’t matter that a part of me liked this attention. It didn’t matter because these thoughts aren’t my own. They are something my brain makes against my will, therefore, they are not my own, and I am not tied to them.

“This has went on long enough. I won’t be accepting ANY offer from you. Be that job related or other. Have a nice day Mr. Rossi, and do no try to contact me again in the future, this was a one and done thing.”

I sped off to the door, opening it and leaving immediately. I didn’t care that it looked weak, showing that I was deeply bothered by all of it. Running away like a rabbit or a deer. I just didn’t want to give him a chance to say or do anything else.

I left the hell built like heaven, avoiding the eyes of students as some of them pointed and whispered amongst themselves. Letting the breeze carry their questions. “Is that them?” “No way, really?” “who is that?”

I never thought I would write about that day. Not anywhere but my journal at least. But in light of the recent movements and criticisms towards Emily Gatsby’s works I thought this would benefit more people than it would hurt me.

I’m aware that in this piece I have outed myself as one of the types that Emily Gatsby coined in her book “The Lying Heart”, but as I will quote from her, page 17, paragraph 3 “There should be no shame when it comes to our biology. We should not blame a man for only having one arm, or a woman for being infertile. We should not blame a child for being a mute or a dog for being blind. And we should never blame a darling for being a darling. We can only pass criticism about what someone does, not what someone is.”

As of the time of this writing, there are currently charges against Mr. Rossi for attempted kidnapping, stalking, blackmailing, breaking and entering, and theft. From yours truly.

I shall end this piece with a word to an editor, who encouraged me to not write nor publish this.

Scheiß auf dich du alter sack.

(3406 words)

-✨🥐anon (Sorry for any typos! Wrote this while the wolves were howling outside.)

wowww i did not think that was the path we were going down at the end, from the way this started. the dialogue in this is probably the best you’ve written in my opinion and the banter was so good bc “you’re quite a sweetheart behind your dead eyes” took me out 😭

love love love the meta concept of a self aware universe of ‘lovers’ and darlings. love that professor, and the way he was trying to pick reader’s brain, when they wanted nothing to do with him. even the part with how darling is mindful of how they sit down so as to not give away any weakness fuck yah

interesting that they have entire books dedicated to the topic, with subtypes of darlings. i wonder what other categories exist besides ‘a lover’s dream’ and the self hell one,,

lowkey need Mr rossi carnally ❤️❤️ even if he is an “old bastard” LMAO

[wizerdbattle]

Give me some directors cut on your laruta keeps the secret fic? 👀 maybe something on your writing process or those headcanons for the au you mentioned before.....:^)))))

YAY thank you for asking! Here's some misc headcanons, mostly about the main three :) Too tired to get into lore right now, but these still probably apply to the Laruta-verse

Mipha read a lot of fantasy growing up (PROJECTION) but Sidon got really into sci-fi and she got into it as a result. I think she would really like The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (and as a sort of introduction to that surreal sort of comedy... I think she would be giggling out loud reading it and as a result develop a slightly indecipherable sense of humour for a 13-year-old (possibly? I haven't been a 13-year-old in ages so I'm a little out of touch lol)) and she would start carrying a towel around in her bag as a nod to that. It would come in useful one time and she would be unbelievably happy about it.

Zelda is the type to cycle through take up a lot of extracurriculars and electives - and then drop them when she can't get anything more out of them. A lot of people think it's because she's indecisive but she just really likes learning and trying new things. This makes her the school admin's worst nightmare!

Zelda and Link have an art class together - Link reads a lot of comics and likes trying to cartoonify things, and Zelda goes as realistic as she possibly can. They're both perfectionists who abuse their eraser privileges. Each of them admire each other's work, though, and they try and make it a priority to work side-by-side on projects.

Dorephan is a language teacher (teaching the Zora language, I don't think it has a name in the games 😬). He speaks some at home with Mipha and Sidon, but Mipha and Sidon aren't exactly fluent becuase they speak more Hylian and regular conversation. They do, however, have enough practice to get a little ahead in classes 😋

Zelda likes paleontology, Link likes history, and Mipha likes biology, so they go on museum trips together (longstanding Link and Mipha tradition but Zelda fits right in). They go completely ham on the interactive expeditions and Mipha gets sucked into the gift shops and ends up with a million socks and t-shirts and pens.

In general I think she's a bit of a hoarder (PROJECTION) and loves collecting little things. Unfortunately they take up a lot of space in her room and she struggles to tidy after a while (... PROJECTION...)

Link only likes sweet things for the sugar hit he gets from them, but he has a select few desserts he actually likes for texture & flavour. He mostly cooks savoury dishes, but sometimes he bakes because he likes sharing the things he makes. Mipha loves desserts but is picky about flavour.

Mipha would get really into metal music as a bid to make herself more mature and then her and Sidon would blast it in the loungeroom and give Dorephan a headache.

Zelda Senior works in a cafe as a baker but has an extensive prior education.

Mipha and Sidon's mother is still dead ;-; sorry.

More specifically, I feel like Zelda's mother's death was more tied to the plot and her identity and the Calamity, but I think Mipha grew around her mother's death from quite an early age, and while it still saddened her, it was already a part of her, which is why I changed one but not the other.

Revali still puts a lot of pressure on himself to be better than everyone else, and in turn ends up putting pressure on Mipha because he's nervous for her. Sorry to lump the bird guys in together but they're very Noelle and Berdly Deltarune to me

Urbosa is one of those teachers that always has a coffee. She get's it from Zelda Senior's cafe.

Zelda and Purah are in a robotics club together. Initially, Zelda joined to get closer with Purah and Impa but it's one of her favourite things now.

I don't have the energy to write out much more -_- but come back for more later if you want lol! I'm having lots of fun with this.

[dustcollectingbones]

Intro post time!

General stuff:

Hi I’m Dust Collecting Bones a.k.a. Thomas! I’m like a court jester except I’m also attracted a little too much by bones.

I also now have a sideblog for my manic rants and ramblings, she’s called @manicassandra!

Please block this person, they are a horrible person and have ruined my life and will likely ruin yours.

You will often see me reblogging cool stuff, ranting about strange things, or getting much too invested in random posts. I don’t like to participate in many controversies or extreme beliefs and even if I did I will likely not post about it.

Fun facts:

I am Bisexual/Pan-questioning and Grey-Ace

I am okay with all pronouns, but female ones are preferred (very small preference)!

I speak English and Mongolian, am learning Japanese and Korean, and know a small amount of Russian and Spanish

I play the piano (quite badly mind you)

Despite spending the majority of my life in none of these countries, I speak with a mix of Californian, British, and Irish accents

My dream pet animal is a monitor lizard who I’d let roam around the house like one might with a dog

I have audhd, and probably other undiagnosed stuff

Warnings/non-fun facts:

I am extremely queer and proud about it

I (though you likely won’t see much posting about it) sh and have an ed

I have an ed, sh, and several anxiety issues so please tag gore/sh/ed/su1c1d3 related content and use tone indicators!!!

I don’t have OSDD, but function in a similar manner (if you really must know dm and I can explain)

I am very defensive of my moots and will not tolerate any hate towards them

Dni:

Nsfw and porn accounts (though I can forgive posting about it I won’t interact with accounts solely centred around it)

Transphobes, homophobes, TERFs, racists, queerphobes, and any other uncool people

Adults in dms

Interests:

I dibble and dabble I’m several fields of study, such as physics, both quantum and applied, engineering (though one could argue that’s just really applied physics), chemistry, medicine, psychology, biology, and many more.

I love learning about new strange things so feel free to send me just cool stuff you find out about. I also have an extensive collection of useless or obscure information you’ll likely never need.

Music taste:

I love almost any genre, but my favourite musicians are as follows in no particular order:

Will Wood, IDKHBTFM, Waitress, Liability Luke, Changeline, Machinery of the Human Heart, Issbrokie/Shteppie, Lightnin’ Luke, Kendrick Lamar, Femtanyl, That Handsome Devil, Shayfer James, Isiah Rashad, Dib Dooley, Teddy Hyde, Bear Ghost, and Aaron May.

There are much more mind you these are just my most prominent listens (pls feel free to dm me for music recommendations).

Hobbies:

Music writing

Piano & singing

Reading

Cooking

Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

Writing

Drawing

Fandoms:

I consume podcast dramas at a voracious pace but if I could name my favourites it would be TMA/TMagP, The Penumbra, The Silt Verses, Hymns for the Road, Midnight Burger, Malevolent, We Fix Space Junk, and Ch&T

Other fandoms include: Rick Riordan books, Good Omens, Doctor Who, Arcane, Pokemon, Devil May Cry, Fear and Hunger, Mouthwashing, etc

Why Dust Collecting Bones?:

It's both (at the risk of sounding self-absorbed) clever wordplay and a vague description of my hobbies. It can mean bones that collect dust (i.e. old bones), or dust (as in myself) that collects bones (my Vulture-esque habits), and bones (as in myself) that collects old things (also my strange habits.)

It's mainly because I have a fascination with all things old, dead, or in various stages of decay. From collecting antiques, to preserving specimens, if it's old, I like it!

User boxes under the cut!