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[tldrthor]

things we shouldn't have said | steve rogers

Summary: The Captain has a scathing outburst that puts their already rocky relationship six feet under for good. He reaps the consequences when she gets hurt while looking out for him.

Part one // She was watching my back, and I wasn't watching hers. // word count: 3k

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

“I am sick and tired of you endangering yourself and others, (y/l/n)!” The shouting started from behind the frosted panes of the meeting room. Tony, sitting on one of the benches outside, wondered if he had considered that the meeting room wouldn’t be soundproofed enough to stop people hearing sensitive information, or, if you were Steve and (y/n), insanely loud arguments nearly every day. It seemed like a design flaw.

“You were the one who made the wrong call! They weren’t on the left wing, they were on the right, who knows what could’ve happened if I hadn’t followed my instincts?!”

“It doesn’t matter, you flung yourself headfirst into danger, and disobeyed a direct order.”

“I’m not your soldier, Rogers. And I told you exactly what was happening, you just didn’t listen!”

Natasha banged the back of her head repeatedly on the wall she leant on. “How long do we reckon this ones going to take? I need a shower.” She sighed, sniffing at her armpits and wincing a little at the result. 

Tony looked at his watch, responding: “If I am correct in my estimation (y/n) will storm out right around …” The door to the meeting room burst open, and out barrelled a seething Agent (y/l/n). “Now.” Tony concluded, as the others laughed at his uncanny ability to predict how a Rogers-(y/l/n) fight went. He waved his hand and lowered his head in a fake bow.

“Do you think they’ll ever get along?” Young, innocent, naïve Peter asked. He had previously been fast asleep sitting upright in the uncomfortable waiting chairs. The sound of the door hitting the plasterboard on the wall had startled him awake.

Sam chuckled. “Kid, those two have been at each other’s throats since you were in middle school. It’s just what they do.”

Peter seemed to accept that answer, nodding slowly before covering a yawn with his hand. “That's classic enemies to lovers stuff.” He was nearly asleep again by the time the others had processed his statement enough to question what it meant.

The door opened again. “Come on, let’s debrief.” Cap pulled an anxious hand through his hair, clearly in turmoil. The Captain looked exhausted, his eyes nearly bloodshot. The bags under his eyes were some of the worst Tony had ever seen, and that was saying something. When his eyes landed on Peter, he shook his head, “Pete, head to bed. You’re beat.”

Peter nodded again, but fell asleep in the exact same position, approximately 0.3 seconds after the door closed behind the other Avengers.

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

"Good morning." (Y/n) muttered, walking into the briefing room with a coffee in hand. It wasn’t like her to be late, especially not with coffee. Tony realised that lately, she had been more and more demoralised after every mission. Especially after every argument with Cap. He was worried there was more going on with her than they knew. 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist a dig.

"Don't you hate it when someone turns up late to a meeting with Starbucks in hand?" Tony tilted his head and spoke with sarcasm coating nearly every word.

"Bite me, tin man." She joked with her mentor. It wasn’t her usual chipper humour, but rather much more subdued, more pointed. She looked more tired than usual as well, Tony noted. But he had a meeting to present, and an interview in an hour, so there wasn’t much time to mull it over.

Steve didn’t pick up on anything strange, blinded by his annoyance. He shook his head silently in the corner, jaw tensed, eyes sending daggers into her with every step she took.

"Young lady, you are in a terrible mood this morning. And, I'm about to make it worse." Tony flashed her a charming but sarcastic smile. "We've got a code red recon mission over in Europe, and only you and our dear fearless leader are available to man it."

Her face immediately fell, but she wasn't the first to find her voice.

"Nope. There's no way." Steve responded to the news. She sent him a foul look at his rude outburst, before chiming in with her own.

"Rude, Rogers. But agreed, you send us on that mission, one of us is coming back in a body bag." And it won't be me. She thought.

He wouldn't meet her eyes, his tense posture maintaining an intense gaze on Tony. His arms, crossed, shoulders raised nearly to his ears.

Tony rolled his eyes at their reactions. "You guys need to stop your middle school bullshit. We're the Avengers, and at the end of the day, we've got each other's backs."

She decided to bite her tongue, opting for a vicious look towards Tony instead. Sure, it would be awful, but she wouldn’t mind a chance to prove to Steve that she was a valuable member of the team, and shove it in his face that he was wrong about her. 

She looked towards him, expecting him to have a similar disposition. Mr. Upstanding, the moral preacher. To her shock, he didn’t. And god, was he vocal about it.

“No, she’s a goddamn liability.” He turned to her with a withering, disdainful look. “She messes up every mission, and I’ve had enough. I’m not putting a code red in her hands, she doesn’t have the skills for it.” He immediately turned to face her, expecting her to fire back with the same passion.

He didn’t expect her neutral, almost – almost – hurt expression. She pressed her lips into a straight line, and his heart dropped when he thought maybe there were tears in her eyes. For just a second.

He might have gone too far. He didn’t think he would ever miss her rebuttals, her constant nitpicking, her endless talking back. But at this moment, he knew he would have preferred it. 

She looked away from him, and back to Tony, who watched the outburst with an open mouth. It wasn’t very often he was rendered speechless, but it took a solid ten seconds for him to clear his throat, pick his jaw up off the floor and continue.

“Unfortunately, there is no other choice, um, so hopefully that will go smoothly. You will leave at 8am sharp tomorrow. Uh … onto other business…”

(Y/n) drowned the rest of Tony’s briefing out as she replayed the Captain’s outburst over and over again. Liability. Messes up every mission. Doesn’t have the skills. It was all of her worst fears come true, packaged up neatly coming from the mouth of someone she had always secretly admired. Not that she would ever tell him that.

She wasn't sure why, but his words had cut her to the core.

An excruciating thirty minutes later, Tony concluded his meeting. “Okay, everyone out. Except Cap, we have to talk about logistics for tomorrow.” He watched with eagle eyes as (y/n) ran out of the room, lowering her face and ignoring anyone who sent pitying looks her way.

He turned to the Captain, who covered a bright red face with his hands.

“Now what the hell was that?” He asked.

Cap groaned, “I messed up.” 

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

8am. Sharp. She took a deep breath as she left her room, locking the door behind her. Her pack wasn’t too heavy, considering they were only supposed to be gone for a couple of nights max. Her chest felt tight, walking to the aircraft hangar, a pit of dread growing and growing with every step.

Before she met the hangar, she passed by Tony’s office. It was one of Tony’s off days, so she knew he wouldn’t be in. She slipped an envelope under the door, hoping he would only see it once she was long gone.

“See ya later.” She whispered to no-one.

Trudging to what felt like the executioner’s block, she was dismayed to see Steve already fully ready and waiting for her. She braced herself for the lecture, for the ‘we said leave at 8am, not arrive.’ But it didn’t come. 

“Good morning.” He spoke cordially, almost upbeat. Making up for something.

She could only manage a polite smile in return. He frowned at the lack of response, but she didn’t see it. 

“All systems ready to go.” She said, once she had got a seat and checked all her listed items. Steve nodded, and made a call through the radio to air control. “Alpha base control, this is Eagle and Wunderkind, ready to take off.” She hated hearing him say her nickname from Tony, which had become her official callsign for all base activities. 

Through the headset, she heard the confirmation from ATC, and watched as the Captain piloted the quinjet up and away from the base. God, it was going to be a long trip. 

As soon as she could, she took off her harness and retreated back to the seats further away from him. She heard the gentle click and mechanical thrum of the auto-pilot being put on, and the movement of the leather seats as Steve moved away from the cockpit.

She felt his presence over her as she tried to focus on her kindle. She had been reading and re-reading the same page, over and over, desperately trying to take in the words. But it was futile. 

“(y/n).” He sighed, knowing that she was purposefully ignoring him. “I want to apologise for my outburst at the meeting yesterday.”

She shrugged. He desperately searched for some kind of anger, some kind of white-hot hurt that she would respond with. It was what he deserved, after he had embarrassed her and doubted her in front of the whole team. 

“You told me how you really feel. It’s okay.” She still didn’t look at him.

“That’s not –” He huffed. “That’s not what I think. I was out of line.” It seemed that the words he wanted eluded him. What do you say to someone after you’ve put out their spark? How do you ‘fix’ a quenched fire?

“It’s fine, Captain. Honestly.” 

Rogers sighed and understood that he was being subtly asked to leave. He understood, really. But there was something about her dejected manner, her slumping posture and her big, sad eyes that made him feel like more of a villain than he already did. Like he had kicked a puppy, or stolen candy from a baby or…

Completely humiliated one of the newest Avengers in front of the whole team.

“I’m sorry.” He managed to stutter out, before turning and leaving to fiddle with some of the controls on the quinjet’s interface. 

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

The rest of the six hours were long. Painfully, achingly long. The tension in the atmosphere was only marginally cut by the quiet hum of the engine and the tap, tap, tap of the Captain getting some work done. The captain spent a longer time staring at his comrade than he would ever admit, watching as she frowned at her book. She turned one page approximately every five minutes, her eyes continually moving from the top to the bottom of the same page, over and over again. Her frustrated sighing the only sign of emotion coming from her.

He took a deep breath, trying to remove the suffocating guilt from his chest.

Standing, he waved a hand in her line of sight, interrupting her ‘reading’ session. She slid her headphones off, looking up at him expectantly. “We’re going down.” He spoke. “Thought you would like to get ready.”

The problem with recon missions was that a quinjet was a dead giveaway. So, they had to take their large, heavy packs, and camp out in the forest surrounding the castle. Why was it always a castle?

The hike was hard. The frost on the path made it difficult to get a proper grip on the near-vertical slope, and she realised quickly she had forgotten her gloves. The frost nipped at her hands, growing more painful with her step. She cursed Tony for sending them here in the dead of winter.

She threw her pack up a ledge, scrambling up behind it. While scrambling up the side, she made the mistake of grabbing on to a bundle of brambles. She hissed and retracted her hand, a line of crimson appearing straight across her palm, a precious droplet splashing down onto the snow. 

“You good?” Steve turned to watch her as she folded and unfolded her palm. He reached a hand out to help her up, his eyes focusing on the blood drip, drip, dripping.

She wiped the wound on her trousers, and took his offered hand with her opposite one. “I’m good.” She seemed agitated, nervous. “Do you feel like something’s not right?”

When she said it out loud, just for a second, his heart rate raised. He had convinced himself through his inner dialogue that he was just being overly cautious, but as she said it, he realised that she was right. If there was one thing Steve had learned, a true philosophy of his, it was that one Avenger’s intuition can be wrong. But two Avenger’s instincts are always correct. The unique blend of pattern recognition and situational awareness made the Avengers the closest thing on earth to fortune tellers. Or, so he believed.

“I agree. Let’s hunker down for a minute.” They settled in some of the brush, making themselves as invisible as possible. She was thankful to have a rest, she couldn’t lie. The tossing and turning all night, and every night for weeks, had truly taken its toll.

“Do you think it's bad intel, or a set-up?” She asked, her heart beginning to race at the sight of Steve becoming more and more stressed. She realised that the forest was absolutely silent. No wind, no birds, nothing. She hated it.

He took a second to respond, “I’m not sure. I don’t think we should keep going.”

“What? Then we’ve come all this way for nothing?” 

“I would rather us have come for nothing than die for nothing.” He spoke, trying desperately to manage his tone. How did this girl have such a way of getting under his skin?

She scowled. “Aye, aye, Captain.” A sarcastic salute followed.

With a futile deep breath, he snapped. He rolled his head in disbelief, incredulous that she would choose now to be obstinate. “Are you serious, (y/l/n)? You want to walk straight into something we have no idea about?” He gesticulated, hands flying wildly through the air. 

Both of them were too annoyed to realise that they were on a recon mission while quite loudly arguing in a forest. The Captain, blood boiling, didn’t hear the snap of a distant twig.

“I didn’t even say anything, Rogers! Don’t pretend like you care about my opinion anyway.” She scoffed. “Let’s just fucking go back.” She grabbed her pack, hauling it onto her back, standing from their spot in the brush.

“Shit!” She exclaimed as a bullet past her ear by less than an inch, the sound startling her down. The Captain instantaneously jumped over her, pulling her into him and covering them both with the shield. 

For the record, he smelt like cedarwood and rosemary.

“Came from the East.” He smouldered into the distance. If she hadn’t been so focused, she would have scoffed. He turned to her, his mouth mere centimetres from her ear, his warm whispers tickling her neck. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, no. Aside from the goosebumps, she had luckily been missed. The eye contact he made had something behind it… something she didn’t recognise. Something she had never noticed before.

The moment was shattered by more gunfire.

So, they did the avenging thing. He covered her, she shot as much as she could. Bullets sprayed in every direction, missing them both by the narrowest margins possible. They battled on and on, seemingly endless waves of agents appearing as soon as they thought they were almost through with it.

That’s when she saw it. The bullet heading straight for him. 

“Steve!” She screamed. She didn’t know why she called him by his first name. They weren’t friends. Hell, soon, they wouldn’t even be colleagues. 

He snapped to attention, spinning quickly to ricochet the bullet off of his shield. The bullet was so close to hitting him, he realised she had potentially just saved him from dying in the snow, 5,000 miles from home.

He looked to her to thank her and it all happened in slow motion. She screamed, a shrill, ear-splitting scream that turned his stomach. “No!” He shouted, still fighting through the hordes, sprinting to where the snow turned maroon.

His thrown shield thudded through the undergrowth, distant shouts of soldiers nearly split in half by the metallic disc. He grabbed the gun that had fallen from her hands, unleashing the last of its bullets on those who still dared to try him.

And the forest fell silent.

“(Y/n)!” He looked at her, her usually rosy face growing greater pallor by the second, her chest moving ever-so-slightly, and with growing effort. The black stain on her suit grew larger, and larger, and larger. Any and all medical training he had escaped him, as he realised that now, this moment, was where his regrets were fated to culminate. This was his punishment, his comeuppance.

He didn’t hate her. As he watched this hollow form of her, he realised he would give his own life to bring her back. He would bargain with anything and everything he could for this to be a nightmare that he would wake up from. He would fight with everything he had left to give to her.

Grabbing his pack from behind him, he tipped out its entire contents. 

God, what had he learned on those courses? What was going to kill her first?

“(Y/n), if you can hear me, this is going to hurt. I don’t… I don’t have anything to stop the pain. You’re bleeding out.” He spoke into the void, using scissors to remove her outer layer, exposing the wound. He noticed the blood slowly trickle from her mouth and nose, only worsening his anxiety.

It was worse than he thought, in fact, too deep for him to even suture… He used an antiseptic wipe to clean the area, before packing it with cotton swabs. He swore to himself. They had left the quinjet so far away, and he didn’t know if she would make it all the way back to the compound. 

He had to get her out of here. It was cold, and wet, and there could be even more enemy agents on their way there, right now.

“God, you’re going to have to hold on for just a little while longer, (y/l/n).” He whispered to her, picking her up bridal-style and running for the jet.

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

The other avengers weren’t expecting them to be back for a couple of days, so when Sam ran into the room with news that the quinjet was on the way back, they were pleasantly surprised. Each had finished their missions or meetings early it seemed. Which meant that just maybe they would be able to have some time as a team. Something they were in dire need of.

Tony smiled at his friends, but for a change wasn’t chatting. He sipped his coffee, and smoothed his hand over the handwritten note in his pocket. The note that he thought would never come.

Steve's voice over the intercom. “Mayday, mayday. Eagle to Alpha Base Control, we have a critical medical incident on board. Ready the medbay for severe blood loss and potential hypothermia. Wunderkind is compromised. Wheels down in 10.”

A panicked hush fell over the group.

“Okay, code red.” Sam jumped into the procedures they had all been trained on. “Bruce and I will go down to the hangar and help out. The rest of you stay here and we’ll keep you updated.” The four named avengers immediately ran to their stations, as the others tried to busy themselves doing other tasks that could be useful. 

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

The quinjet came into land at a near-dangerous speed. Bruce and Sam burst open the door as the back door of the jet opened and Cap ran out with a limp (y/n) in his arms, jumping over the ramp before it had even reached the ground.

“What happened?” Sam shouted, running in front of the Captain up the stairs to the nearest Medbay, making sure the way was clear. FRIDAY has thankfully opened all doors in advance.  

“Gunshot wound to the chest, severe haemorrhage. I’ve managed to pack it but not stalled the bleeding nearly enough, she needs help now.”

“Have you got vitals?” Bruce ran along, slightly behind them, not quite as fit. 

“She’s still breathing on her own, weakly. Low pulse. Unconscious since the event.” 

As they reached the medical room and Steve laid her down on the surgical table, it hit all of them how severe the situation was.

“Oh my god.” Whispered Sam, as he saw not only the extent of her wounds, but the volume of blood that covered every inch of the Captain. The colour of skin on his hands could not be seen from the crimson staining covering every inch of them, and his once-blue suit looked more like an inky black, even under the fluorescent lighting of the medical ward. 

More than that, the expression on Steve’s face was something he could only recall seeing on him once. When they discovered that Bucky was alive. He was shell-shocked.

“You guys need to clear the room.” Commanded Dr. Cho, scrubbed in and ready to operate. “We’ll keep you updated.”

“We trust you, Doctor.” Bruce spoke, as he realised the others weren’t going to. Both men grabbed Steve’s shoulder, gently directing him back through the double doors. Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away, as Dr. Cho made demands to the other members of her team, beginning surgery immediately.

“Come on, bud. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sam was trying not to treat him like a ticking time bomb. But he knew that the Captain was going to snap out of his stupor eventually, and the consequences could be disastrous.

Steve’s eyes didn’t move from her lifeless body on that cold, steel table until they were well past the doors. When Sam tried to lead him out of the medical wing in general, his feet stopped just short of the door.

“I can’t, I - I have to wait.” He turned back around. He looked to Sam, almost asking permission. “I can’t leave her.”

It wasn’t lost on Sam that Steve had to have been keeping her alive by himself for at least six hours, over the Atlantic. That’s not only an impressive feat, but a damn near miracle. It was beyond dedication, it was lunacy. And something like that will make a pretty strong bond between people.

There was something deeper at play here. And as the pieces started to click into place, he wondered how he had never seen it before. The reason Cap was so hard on (y/n), and had been since the beginning.

“Okay, okay.” He guided him to a seat, as an unspoken compromise. “Bruce, could you grab a wet towel?” He spoke softly.

Banner nodded, and wandered off to find ways to help Steve be a little more comfortable. When Bruce returned, Sam gently took his bloody friend’s hands and wiped away the crusted blood that stained them.

Cap watched the red as it left his hands. He couldn’t help the sinking feeling that with every smear of dark brown on the towel, she was slipping away. 

Sam’s adrenaline could only abide the silence for so long. “Cap, you gotta talk to me. Are you hurt?”

“She saved me, that’s how she got shot.” He didn’t make eye contact, instead staring towards the doors, behind which she lay on death’s door.

“It’s not your fault.” Steve didn’t have to say anything for Sam to know that’s what’s running through his mind. A hazard of being an Avenger – the unending and relentless guilt.

“It is my fault. She was watching my back, but I wasn’t watching hers. And I had the damn audacity to call her a liability.” He scoffed, bitterly. 

“It’s nobody’s fault, Steve. These things happen, it’s part of the job. She’s going to pull through.” Sam hadn’t even considered the fact that the last proper interaction they had had, was rather… vitriolic in nature. He didn’t dare ask if anything else had happened on the mission. Not for now, at least.

Steve felt like he was being crushed by his own ribs, like his own body was depriving him of oxygen he didn’t deserve. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare think, except to chastise and punish himself for what he had done.

And not once did he take his eyes off those doors.

================================================

part two: promises we intend to keep

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[vminsos]

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@assifamilygaza3 message: "❤️🍉 Our support is very weak. I am Nour from Gaza, a mother of three children. I gave birth to my baby a few days ago during the war. I was born under very difficult circumstances. The war made us lose everything. I don't have money to buy milk🍼, diapers or clothes for my baby. My newborn baby needs emergency surgery affecting his growth that costs $350. Please help save my child Hamza 😭💔🙏 Support us with Christmas gifts with your donations to us and help us with your support😿 Please look at us with mercy"

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@mssb9994 message: "

🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨

Hello, My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.

The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.

We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.

Our Current Situation:

💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income. 🍞 Basic Needs: Food and water are becoming harder to afford with rising prices and scarce resources. 📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive. 😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.

How You Can Help:

I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $5 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.

Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.

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With all our gratitude, Mosab Elderawi and Family ❤️"

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Hello

I am Hiba Khader, a mother of three from Gaza🇵🇸.

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hello, these people reached to me for help in my inbox. since I can't donate, I can only help sharing their stories and fundraiser! so, if you are able to donate, please do it! and if not, I would be glad if you reblog and share this post! thank you!

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these are the ones it was on my inbox today! this post probably will be updated if i receive more!

[slut-for-hyunjin]

What do you think would be Stray Kids’ favorite positions (maybe with link????)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚Stray Kids' fav positions

Chan - Reversed cowgirl

He loves grabbing you by your hip. He always does what you want and how you want it. And you love riding him, so he loves it, too.

Minho - The woman on top

Even if it's cowgirl or woman on top, Minho loves it. He loves gripping on to your ass while he thrusts in to you like crazy.

Changbin - Eagle

He's obsessed with this pose. He loves it when he can do it in anal sex. Just grabbing onto your hips to keep you in place...

Hyunjin - Cowgirl

You love to ride him, and he loves it when you ride him, too. Especially when he can make out with you while that, or when he can suck on your tits.

Jisung - Doggy style

Maybe he looks innocent, but damn. When it comes to this position, he loses his mind. When he's about to cum, he buries himself deep inside you and finishes in you.

Felix - Bend over

He loves your ass a lot, so when you bend over for him... He loses everything and he just wants to fuck you so good.

Seungmin - Back Seat Driver

He thinks it's a kind of dominance of you as you bounce up and down on him. He finds it hot and attractive; he always cums first.

Jeongin - Edging

He loves nothing, but when you edge him... You guys have normal sex, too, but he goes crazy by your edging skills...

ᯓᡣ𐭩

if i made any mistake, like i named the positions wrong, tell me in the comment section and i'll fix it!

by the way, if you liked it, don't forget to like, reblog and comment your experiences. have a nice day! ♡

[shy2-29]

𝘼 𝙏𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 | 𝙡.𝙝𝙨 [𝙢]

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: there are 4 more days until Christmas, and both you and your boyfriend Heeseung are invited to Jake, (Heeseung’s friend)’s early Christmas party. Everything seemed to go smoothly until a certain someone shows up, causing you to storm out of the party, away from Heeseung. It’s been 3 days, and Heeseung hasn’t talked to you since. Tomorrow is Christmas and all you’ve done is lay in your bed. Will Heeseung do anything about it? Will your Christmas be saved?

word count: 4.6k

theme: angst, fluff, sfw

authors note: yes I know Christmas passed but.. ugh I just couldn’t resist🙃 anyways this took me two days so pls reblog to show support :) e/n stands for “exes name” btw. Sunoo and Jake are side characters in the story. Reader calls Heeseung ‘Hee,’ sometimes. First fanfic and im new to tumblr so gimme some time 😭 sorry I posted it earlier than intended, I have 0 patients 💀

warning: ‼️ not proof read, crying, swearing, cheating kinda, pet names, reader starves herself, but that’s rlly it but if there’s anything I missed, please lmk ‼️

requests: open

As you walk into the party with Heeseung, you can feel the stares coming your way. Jake, Heeseung’s closest friend, eyes your matching Christmas sweaters with a smirk. "Looks like the couple of the hour has arrived," he teases, noticing the red, sparkly antler headbands you are both wearing. "You two make a pretty cute pair with those holiday outfits."

Heeseung rolls his eyes at Jake’s teasing and tries to defend himself. “It was her idea, not mine,” he grumbles, motioning towards you. “She’s the one who picked out these ridiculous sweaters.”

Jake chuckles and leans against his table, looking you up and down. “No kidding?” he says with a smirk. “Looks like your girlfriend has good taste. I like the antler headbands.”

Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh. “Can we please change the subject?”

“What, do you not like it?” You pout, clinging onto Heeseung’s sweater, seeking his reassurance.

He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his face as he looks down at you. “Of course I like it,” he assures you gently, patting your head. “I was just annoyed by Jake’s teasing. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

As the knock on the door echoes, Jake quickly opens it to reveal a stunning figure - e/n. She exudes elegance with her long, silky black hair and flawless skin.

Heeseung's heart skips a beat as he lays eyes on her. It has been quite some time since they've seen each other in person, and despite the occasional texts, his heart does a little somersault. He quickly tries to hide his reaction, but he can feel the curious gazes of both Jake and the others, who clearly notice his change in expression.

You on the other hand, remain blissfully ignorant of who she is and the history she shares with Heeseung.

“What are you guys so shocked about?” you ask, noticing the mildly stunned expressions on both guy’s faces.

Heeseung takes a deep breath, a mix of nervousness and determination in his eyes. "e/n is...someone I’ve known for a while," he explains hesitantly, his voice betraying his emotions. "We go way back."

“Oh!” you say cheerfully, perking up a smile. “Then we should go say h— “

Heeseung quickly interrupts you, his heart pounding in his chest. "No, no." he says, his voice edged with anxiety. "You don't have to greet her."

“No Heeseung,“ you try to protest, taking his hand in yours. “A friend of yours is a friend of mine!”

Jake lets out a scoff, raising an eyebrow at your innocent demeanour. He shakes his head and scrolls through his phone.

Heeseung hesitates for a moment, his heart conflicted. Part of him doesn't want to let you approach her, knowing that seeing e/n would bring up a maelstrom of emotions for him. But at the same time, he didn't want to upset you, so he eventually gives in.

"Okay," he says reluctantly, his grip on your hand tightening. "Let's go greet her then..”

You both make your way to the entrance, slowly approaching e/n. She looks more beautiful than ever, her long black hair cascading down her shoulders. As she spots you both, her face lights up in a warm smile.

“Heeseung,” she says, her voice soft and honeyed. “It’s been so long.”

He smiles weakly, his heart thudding in his chest. “Yeah, it has,” he responds, trying to support a cool exterior. “How have you been?”

She looks at him for a moment, her eyes lingering on his face before shifting to you. Her expression softens and she smiles warmly. "And who is this?" she asks, eyeing you up and down in a friendly manner.

“I’m y/n, his girlfriend,” you reply with your usual warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you! Heeseung tells me you’re an old friend of his?” you inquire, tilting your head to the side curiously.

E/n smirks, her tone laced with an undercurrent of amusement. "An old friend, huh? Is that what Heeseung told you?"

She looks at you, her eyes flicking over your body before settling on your face again. "You're cute," she says, her voice still tinged with humour. "Heeseung really lucked out with you."

As you let out a happy squeal, Heeseung feels a pang of guilt, his smile faltering. Your innocent joy contrasts sharply with His burdened knowledge.

"Heeseung, have you been keeping secrets from your pretty girlfriend?" e/n asks.

Heeseung glowers at her, his jaw clenched. "No, I haven't," he snaps, trying to maintain his composure. "I've never lied to her."

E/n smirks, her tone suggestive. "You sure you've never lied to her, Heeseung, even about a certain ex-girlfriend?"

E/n interrupts, her smirk still in place. "He still has feelings for me," she declares confidently, her eyes flickering to Heeseung’s tense face. "Three months ago, he personally reached out to me, confessing that he still has deep feelings for me and desired to reconnect. Yet, he mysteriously omitted to mention that he was in a new relationship with you."

Heeseung can't tear his eyes away from you as you try to downplay the situation. You're being so sweet and understanding, and it only makes him feel even more guilty for lying to you. He can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, filled with shame and guilt. The room is eerily quiet, the party guests watching the tense exchange with bated breath. You can feel your heart sinking as you release his hand. “Is that true, Hee…?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung looks down, unable to meet your eyes. “It’s true,” he mutters, his voice heavy with remorse. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. I’ve still thought about e/n…even though we’re together.”

The revelation hangs heavily in the air, the room still eerily quiet. You stand there, absorbing the weight of his admission, the party still going on around you but feeling a world apart from the festivities.

The others gasp in disbelief and disapproval as Jiwon chuckles smugly. You, meanwhile, remain silent, absorbing the weight of my confession. Heeseung can't bear to look at your face right now.

You break the silence with a frustrated remark, "This is stupid." You take off your red sparkling reindeer headband and placed it on a nearby table, not wasting another moment before walking out of Jake's house.

The room is still, a heavy silence hanging in the air after the reader’s frustrated remark and their departure. The people at the party watch on with looks of judgment and disappointment, although Heeseung is too focused on the door to pay them any mind. He wants to go after you, to explain himself and try to make things right.

Jake shakes his head in disbelief, shooting Heeseung a disapproving glare. “Seriously man?” he mutters. “You better go catch up to her.”

But e/n, still firmly holding onto his sweater, has other ideas, her voice laced with a hint of possessiveness. "Don’t go after her," she says, her grip on his sweater growing tighter. "You’re not over me, Heeseung. It’s pointless."

"You're just going to hurt your little girlfriend even more," e/n continues, her voice mocking. "You shouldn't be with her if you're still not over me."

He turns to e/n, his expression hard and filled with frustration. "This isn’t about you," he says firmly, his voice low. "This is between her and me. You have no right to tell me what to do."

He can feel his anger growing at her words. But he can't deny the truth in them.

—

It has been 3 days since the incident at Jake’s early Christmas party, and Heeseung hasn’t spoken to you since. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s busy with e/n, or he’s just waiting for the write time to apologize.

Three days have passed and Heeseung hasn't spoken to you since. You're not sure if it’s because he's busy with e/n, or he's just waiting for the right time to apologize. You, on the other hand, have been inside your apartment all day, moping around miserably. You've also stopped eating as well. Sunoo, your roommate, tries cheering you up, and you still have not left your room. Sunoo knows it’s not like you to be so down on Christmas—after all, it’s your favorite time of the year.

“Come on, let’s finish up decorating the apartment,” Sunoo begs, “pleaseee, forget about that jerk! Ever since that incident happened, you stopped helping me decorate the apartment and Christmas is in less than 24 hours!”

Sunoo knows it’s not like you to be so down on the holidays, especially your favorite time of the year. Even the thought of Christmas failed to lift your spirits this time.

"Fine," you sigh, finally emerging from your room to help Sunoo decorate.

You take a moment to freshen yourself up, putting on your favorite hoodie and combing your hair. With a renewed energy, you join Sunoo in the living room.

"Hey, Sunoo," you start, looking at the growing pile of decorations. "Can we bake some Christmas cookies?"

Sunoo's face lights up at the suggestion. "Definitely, you could use something sweet huh?” His cheerful mood drops when notices your usual cheerful mood still lacking, even after getting out of your room. "Still haven't heard from Heeseung, huh?" he asks, watching you sink into the couch.

"No," you reply, pouting. "I didn't expect him to be such a jerk. Not even an apology."

Sunoo sighs at your words, a sympathetic look on his face. “I’m sure there’s more to the story than just that,” he says, trying to reassure you. “Maybe there’s a reason he’s still hung up on her, a reason he can’t move on.”

You look up at him, a bitter expression on your face. “Like what? Nothing justifies still wanting his ex when he’s with me.”

Sunoo contemplates for a moment before speaking up, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Well, have you ever asked him why he still had feelings for her?"

You shake your head, a mixture of anger and frustration. "No, why would I ask that? It just hurts more to hear the answer."

Sunoo nods, his expression understanding. "But don't you think it's important to understand why he still carries feelings for her? Maybe there's a deeper explanation behind it."

You hesitate, knowing deep down that Sunoo has makes a good point. "I...I suppose I never considered that," you admit. "But it still doesn't make me feel any better knowing he still has feelings for her. It feels like our relationship was a second choice."

—

“You fucked up dude,” Jake sighs as he watches Heeseung throws himself onto his bed. It’s been three days since the incident, and Heeseung being the pussy he is, he can’t bare to speak to you. He knows he messed up, and he keeps telling himself he’ll never be forgiven.

Heeseung groans and sits up to face Jake. "Yeah, I know," he replies, a look of guilt on his face. "I just can't bring myself to talk to her. I know I messed up bad and I'm sure she'll never forgive me."

"Come on, at least give it a try," Jake urges. "Christmas is tomorrow. Maybe you can explain the whole situation to her and tell her it was just the beginning and that you never kept contact with e/n. I’m sure she’d forgive you; you know y/n is a caring person.”

After minutes of persuading, Jake finally convinces Heeseung to call you. Heeseung hesitates, looking anxious.

"But what if she-"

"Just do it," Jake interrupts firmly, pressing the call button under your contact name on Heeseung's phone, y/nnie 💗.

—

Buzz

And another.

Buzz

"Y/n!" Sunoo calls from to you from the kitchen. "Heeseung is calling!"

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly finished your business and rushed to the kitchen, where your phone is lying on the counter. You grab it, nearly dropping it in the process, and motion for Sunoo to leave the kitchen. He side-eyes you before leaving, carrying freshly baked christmas goods with him.

You bring the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"Y/n," Heeseung's faint voice came through the other end. "Can I come over tomorrow? We need to talk."

Your breath hitches at the sound of his voice, heart thudding heavily in your chest. What could he possibly want to talk about?

—

You lay in bed, rolling over to the right side, and let out a weary yawn. The clock on your bedside table reads 8:21 am. You and Heeseung had agreed that he would come over around noon, so you still had plenty of time to prepare.

As you choose an outfit, your mind keeps returning to the same thought - did Heeseung and e/n ever meet up? Did he really have feelings for her? Your gaze lands on the hideous Christmas sweater you both wore at Jake's party. "Fuck Christmas," you mutter to yourself, heading to the bathroom to comb your hair and apply a decent amount of makeup.

You hurry out of your room, admiring the festive decorations Sunoo and you had spent hours putting up yesterday, and the Christmas sugar cookies laid out in the kitchen. Your gaze drifts to the window to see it snowing, making you squeal in excitement. "Sunoo! Sunoo, it's snowing!" you exclaim, rushing to his cozy room and shaking his tired body.

Sunoo turns to face you with a sleepy expression, his blonde hair tousled, his flawless skin illuminated by the morning light.

"Wha...?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and looking out the window at the falling snow. "Oh, yeah, it is." He turns back to you, a sly smile forming on his lips. "Someone looks excited. Is it because you haven't seen Heeseung in almost a week?"

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings, making you jump a bit. You glance at his alarm clock—it wasn't even 9:00 yet. Was Heeseung early?

You quickly rush to the door, Sunoo behind you. The doorbell rings again as you reach the door, and you can feel your heart starting to race. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Heeseung stands hesitantly on the doorstep, looking a bit nervous and discomfited. He clears his throat and asks quietly, "I know I’m early but... can I come in?"

You open the door wider, indicating that he can enter. Sunoo, standing next to you, observes Him with an unreadable expression.

As Heeseung takes in the cheerful decor, the view of white snowflakes drifting down from the early morning sky, his eyes widen, clearly impressed. He glances down at the two bags in his hands, realizing that you and Sunoo probably hadn't anticipated him bringing gifts.

"I got you both something." He says awkwardly, holding out the bags to you and Sunoo. "Merry Christmas."

Heeseung shuffles awkwardly in place, feeling somewhat out of place as Sunoo accepts the bags and places them beneath the radiant, lit Christmas tree. Sunoo then gives you a knowing wink before disappearing into his room.

"So.." you begin, perching on the plush leather couch, your body tingling with the warmth radiating from the fireplace. Heeseung takes a seat next to you, keeping a close proximity, allowing you to feel the heat of his body. The fire in the fireplace crackles and pops as the two of you sit in a thick silence. The atmosphere is beginning to feel suffocating, so you take the initiative.

"Are you going to explain yourself or what?" you mutter, avoiding his gaze. It is difficult to look at him after the incident at Jake's place. Yet, you know you owe it to yourself to listen to him. He sighs deeply, staring at nothing in particular, clearly uncomfortable. He, too, refuses to make eye contact, well aware of the nature of the upcoming conversation. A cocktail of emotions fills him, with embarrassment and shame at the forefront.

"It's true," he begins, his voice soft and filled with remorse, "I wasn't over e/n. But I am now."

He then lifts his chin up to look at you, finally ready to speak. "It was when we first started dating. I was browsing through social media and stumbled upon her Instagram. I decided to send her a message, flirting with her occasionally." He pauses, hesitating, before continuing. "However, as I got to know you better, I fell head over heels for you. So, I completely shut her out of my life."

He’s looking at you intently now. His gaze is fixated on the side of your face, hoping that you will turn around and look at him. He hates that you aren’t looking at him, he wanted to see your expressions so he can read you like a book. He continues to speak in a soft tone, as he knows he is treading on thin ice with you.

“I swear that I wasn’t even thinking of her, and I had no intention to ever do anything with her...” his voice was even softer now as he reached out towards you. He touched your knee gently, hoping to get you to glance at him. “Please come back to me, I miss you...”

Your heart is conflicted—a part of you longs to forgive him, but deep down you know that what he did was inexcusable. Unable to admit how much you actually miss him; you utter words to mask your true emotions. "What you did was wrong… even if it was at the beginning of our relationship."

He can start feeling himself deflate with every word you say, desperation becoming apparent in his voice. “Please forgive me...” he moved his hand from your knee to your arm, gripping it gently. “i’ll do anything you need me to do... just please forgive me...”

He moved closer to you, pleading silently for you to look at him. “Please look at me. I need to see what you’re thinking and feeling. i’ve missed you so much these past few days...”

He grabbed your chin suddenly and made you look at him. He searched your eyes, desperately looking for a sign that you still had some kind of feelings for him. “don’t pull away from me please..”

The sight of him, so distraught and vulnerable, tugs at your heartstrings and tears well up in your eyes. You struggle to hold them back as you force out, “I…I’m willing to give you another chance.”

His eyes widened at your words and a look of relief washed over his face. He began to tear up himself and a small smile formed on his lips. He let go of your chin and hugged you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “do you mean it? you’ll give me another chance..?”

You hum in response, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him in closer, the tears you’ve been holding in finally spilling out.

He buried his face even deeper into your neck, his hair tickling your face. He felt your tears hit his neck, and he began to cry as well. He was finally going to have you back in his arms again, he wasn’t letting you go this time.

“As hard as it is to admit,” you say between sniffle, “I missed you so much Hee..”

He squeezed you slightly against him at your words, as if he was reassuring himself that you were really there in his arms. “I missed you a whole lot more..” he mumbled into your neck.

—

After hours spent reconnecting, catching up on the four days spent without each other, Sunoo eventually emerges from his room and joins you. The three of you settle down to watch the film, "Home Alone," as the night falls, the dark sky contrasting beautifully with the sparkling Christmas lights.

Throughout the movie, Heeseung unconsciously makes sure to physically touch you in some way—leaning his head on your shoulder, holding your hand, or resting his knee against yours. It's as if he's trying to make up for the lack of contact over the last few days.

"Hey, let's open the gifts under the tree now," Sunoo suggests, a hint of eagerness in his voice. "I've been waiting for centuries."

Heeseung laughs at Sunoo’s exaggerated statement, and he leans back from where he was leaning on your shoulder. “Alright then let’s go,” he says, standing up and holding out his hand to you.

He practically jumps off the couch and onto the floor by the Christmas tree.

—

After many minutes of unwrapping and laughter, the only presents left to be opened are the ones you prepared for Heeseung and you.

"Heeseung, it's your turn," you grin, handing him a rectangular box wrapped in red and white wrapping paper. Seeing the excitement in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

Heeseung eagerly takes the box, his expression filled with anticipation. He carefully peels off the wrapping paper, slowly revealing the contents inside. You watch as his smile grows wider and wider, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the brand-new fancy keyboard, a cool-looking mouse, and gaming headphones. You chuckle as he gazes at the gifts in wonder, clearly thrilled with his presents.

"You play a lot of games, Hee," you laugh, taking in his astonished and embarrassed reaction. You remember the times you’d just sit there in his room, listening to him game with his friends as you help clean his room, paint your nails, or whatever it is that you fancy.

Heeseung was a bit stunned at your gift, speechless for a few seconds as he just stared at the box of gaming accessories. He knew those things were expensive, and his mouth was still slightly open in shock.

He looked up at you with a smile and a slight embarrassed blush crept across his face. “You really didn’t have to, Y/n..”

Holding the box gently in his hands, Heeseung runs his fingers over its smooth edges, still unable to believe you got all these fantastic gifts for him. His heart races and he can't seem to wipe the wide smile from his face. "Okay, now it's your turn to open the gift I got for you," he says, reaching behind him to grab a medium-sized box wrapped in black and yellow wrapping paper. His smile has a hint of nervousness as he hands you the present.

Heeseung shoots Sunoo a glare, but quickly forgets about him and turns his full attention back to you as you open the envelope. He’s watching your every move intently, waiting for you to read the first card.

You happily accept the box, and your fingers begin to unwrap the paper with careful precision. Heeseung watches you intently, his gaze shifting between your face and your hands, filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. His eyes flicker back and forth as he waits in anticipation for your reaction.

As you remove the wrapping from the box, a beautiful silk pink pajama set is revealed. Your eyes widen in awe, but Heeseung tells you there's more, pointing to a small envelope inside the box.

You carefully take the pajama set out of the box, revealing a small envelope with the words “100 reasons why I love you" written on it. Sunoo tries to catch a glimpse, rolling his eyes at the sight. "Ew, you cheesy fucks," he mutters, giving both of you a playful side-eye.

Heeseung gazes at you intently, carefully observing your facial expressions as you progress through the list. He notices the surprise, then a subtle smile, and finally, a full grin once you finish reading the last reason.

Tears fill your eyes, welling up to the point of spilling over. You scoot closer to him, nuzzling your head against his chest.

"It means so much to me, Hee," you say softly.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you nestle your head against his chest, tears soaking into his shirt.

He gently rubs your back, comforting you, with one hand resting on the small of your back and the other running through your hair. "Of course, baby," he whispers, his voice filled with affection. "I love you so fucking much."

Sunoo rolls his eyes at the intimate moment and quietly takes his cue to leave, giving Heeseung the ‘you stole my best friend away from me’ look, leaving you two alone under the flickering lights of the tree.

The rest of the night was spent talking and laughing, enjoying each other’s company. And when the sky completely darkened, he carried you to his room and held you all night.

You nuzzle your head further into his chest, relishing the feeling of his fingers running through your hair. You can hear his heartbeat through his shirt, and you find the steady rhythm comforting.

Heeseung moves his other hand to your waist, intertwining your legs in his. He let out a soft sigh, feeling completely content as he held you close.

“Merry Christmas y/n.”

—

Omg I had so much fun writing this😭 lmk if you wanna be added on my tag list! My requests are open :) read my pinned post for more info

taglist: @mheretoreadff

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

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

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

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

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

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

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

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

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

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

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

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

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

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

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That will be ten bronze kid"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

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

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

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

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

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

"Good"

"Captain!"

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

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

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

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

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

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

"Captain it was a joke!!"

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

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

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

"ok!"

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

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

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

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

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

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

"You swine"

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

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

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

"Ok then”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

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

"You can have it"

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

"ten bronze"

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

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

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

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

"thank you and...Sorry"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

You try hard to free yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Infatuation.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

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

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

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

“Where are you looking at?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marry me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[velvetvexations]

incredible, i just saw a reblog of that "transfem headcanons are always better and sometimes transmasc headcanons actively make the text worse and more hateful" by someone i followed. funny to see discussions arguing against the post before seeing the post itself, otherwise i would have unthinkingly internalized it and felt like shit without knowing why. anyway, i unfollowed that person now. to make it worse, op tore into someone for claiming that chihiro from danganronpa is an exception and better read as transmasc... the irony is insane. yet another example besides miquella that would make the story more boring and maybe worse if transfem.

it's so disgustingly petty lmao

a lot of transfem headcanons are reaches, often "this is literally a man magically trapped in the body of a woman and he hates it and desperately keeps trying to go back to being a man" and it's FINE to headcanon characters however you want but since some people can't conceptualize being a woman as anything other than something they wish would happen to them they take characters like that and hiss if you go near them

i get the sense that there's a very specific, narrow demographic of transfems who used to buy into that reddit guy "being a hot 22-year-old girl must be like having 10 billion dollars" attitude and never really let it go. thus the fixation on "AFAB privilege". isee a similar mix of resentment and attraction from lesbian TERFs, though it comes from a different origin. and it's an attitude that can slide easily into TERFism even for cis men--just look at tatsuya ishida!

If anything the idealization of femininity a small minority of transfems exhibit when they complain endlessly about how good trans people AFAB have it would come more from dysphoria and the grass being greener on the other side. "An AFAB trans person will immediately revert to being an innocent little girl to hurl sexual assault accusations at trans women," however, is really concerning!

Regarding whether "binary privilege" exists, i am once again on my hands and knees begging people to actually look at the statistics. The US Transgender Survey and Cohnting Ourselves (from Aotearoa) are right there. And they both show that all trans people are about as badly off as each other regardless of their specific gender. Yes, there are some ways in which being nonbinary is particularly hard, such as not having a social role to fit into, I'm not denying any of that, but if you're going to call being binary a "privilege" then there needs to be a visible whole-group effect for binary people compared to nonbinary people. And there isn't one when you look at the numbers.

It's not really about non-binary people having it flat worse, more just situational complexities.

The thing about even discussing privilege (binary privilege in this case) is that so many people talk as if to have privilege means to inherently have privilege Over someone else. Like is it an advantage for me to be vaguely binary alligned enough sometimes to have a legal gender marker that is moderately less dysphoria inducing when some people are equally harmed by either? (Tbf I live in a state where x is an option, I simply do not feel safe with that 😵‍💫 (tho that does not help when nothing else other than state id accepts it)) like yeah it's a privilege but it's not privilege Over someone. It does not make me an oppressor or mean I am causing harm, which is a thing many people seem to believe, about various forms of privilege

That's a very good point, anon.

I suppose this isn’t how others I’ve seen think about it but. I’ve always just understood that you can be oppressed for being trans without your gender being affirmed. Like. The bigots understand you’re trans but that doesn’t make them think of you as your gender it makes them think of you as trans. Misgendering is such a huge part of what transphobes do and I’ve never once assumed they were like. Lying about seeing trans people that way. I don’t get acting like transphobes can see our, as you put it, soul gender.

It makes people feel better.

[lovebotmo]

like the movies

chapter nine - dusk's rendezvous

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 2363

author’s note: thank you so so so x10389885 for all the love i've been getting as of late!!! i see all your notes, reblogs, and comments and they mean the absolute world to me. wishing you all the best for the coming new year and i hope you all have/had happy holidays!!! <3

that being said...please forgive me for this chapter LMAO

also - if i missed you on the taglist, please let me know!!!

song inspiration: "baby i'm a fool" by melody gardot

“How bad could it be, hm?”

Meeting Parvati’s eyes in your dorm mirror, you considered her seemingly innocent question.

What was the harm, truly?

“Well, he could be horribly ugly.” A puff of hot air escaped your lips at Ginny’s rebuttal. You caught the glare Parvati shot the redhead who could only sheepishly grin.

“Are you trying to suggest she shouldn’t go?”

“Not at all!” Ginny replied. Pausing, she turned to look at you. “Just trying to temper expectations. Don’t want you to be disappointed, ‘s all.” Her change in tone only worsened the sinking feeling that was quickly settling into your gut. Seeming to sense the catastrophizing her sentence had set off in your mind, she piped up. “Hey! If he’s not cute, maybe he’ll be this great guy! Godric knows the lookers can be the absolute worst.” The bitter smile on her face let you know she was thinking of her ill-fated romance with Dean Thomas.

“So, I’m either saddled with some class-act minger or an attractive asshat. Wonderful. Loving these options.”

“I have a feeling my comments have not been entirely helpful this afternoon,” Ginny mused.

“You think?” Parvati rolled her eyes. “What I’m hoping Ginny is trying to say is that you don’t know who’s going to be waiting for you at the Black Lake, so don’t go into it expecting anything, right?”

“Right-o, Patil.”

“Anyhow, it’s not like you’ve been cracking on with anyone recently, right? So, who knows what will happen.”

Your mind seemed to stall over the feelings you hadn’t voiced to anyone. Though Hermione’s eyes had hinted at your affection for a certain Slytherin that first snow of the season, you had yet to be fully candid with your friends.

You fronted a smile. “Right again, Parvati.”

“So…” she drawled, getting up from your bed and standing behind where you sat at your desk. “It’ll be grand, Y/n.” Parvati patted you on the shoulder. “Just grand.”

“Besides, if he tries anything naughty, I’ll jinx him in the—”

“Ginny!”

Having clasped your secret admirer’s latest gift around your neck, you made your descent from Gryffindor Tower. Your friends had kindly let you get ready in peace; their endless chatter had only served to put your nerves on edge. The sun had just begun to set over the surrounding mountains of Hogwarts, casting the grounds in rich blues and oranges from the dying light. Wrapping your arms around yourself in an ill-favored attempt to stay warm, you made your way to the Black Lake, hoping that whoever he was, you wouldn’t have to wait in the winter chill.

As fate would have it, you didn’t have to wait long.

“Y/n!”

Turning around to see who the voice belonged to, you were met with the sight of Zacharias Smith jogging toward you.

A seventh year like yourself, Zacharias Smith was a Hufflepuff you had shared a few classes with over the years. However, the frequency of your shared schedule had petered off as Smith decided to not pursue certain advanced coursework. You’d chat on the occasional run-in, but he was more of an acquaintance than a friend.

One of your last classes with him was History of Magic in fourth year, where you had been seat partners. Smith wasn’t a bad student per se, but he made it perfectly clear studying the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century was not at the top of his priority list. At the end of the year, Professor Binns had assigned each pair of students a section of the International Statute of Secrecy to study and present to the class. You could count on one finger the times Zacharias had helped you with the project, constantly skipping out on study sessions for time on the quidditch pitch. As a chaser for Hufflepuff, Zacharias was perfectly adequate. As a student, he was less so, and you found yourself slaving away for hours to make up for his lack of effort and frankly, blatant disregard for your time. You fourth year-self had most definitely shared an unkind word about the Hufflepuff.

“Zacharias…Hi.” In your nervousness, you rocked back and forth on your feet, still reeling from the realization that the brown-eyed blonde before you was your secret admirer. A feeling shamefully close to disappointment began to gnaw at you. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He let out a light laugh, “Yeah, sorry didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to make sure I caught you before it got too dark. Can’t be getting detention again with Filch. ‘Right bastard, that man.” That made you both chuckle. “Anyhow, L/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, maybe grab a butterbeer?”

Eyes widening at his forthrightness, you let out a shocked laugh causing the blonde’s eyebrows to furrow. “Sorry! Sorry. ‘S just…I’m kind of surprised you’re into me.”

Zacharias stared at you in confusion. “Really? I mean, I’ve liked you since our fourth year—when we had History of Magic together. Don’t you remember—I asked you to the Yule Ball that year?”

In fact, you did remember Zacharias asking you to the Yule Ball after class with flowers. You also remembered politely declining—having already secured a date—only for him to turn right around and ask Romilda Vane seconds later with the same bouquet. Rather classy, that was.

“Yeah, I know I ended up going with Romilda, but you were my first choice, you know.”

Geez, way to butter up a girl.

“Still,” you let out a quick huff of air, “I didn’t think you were the ‘secret admirer’ type. I guess I figured you’d be straight-up with your intentions,” you mused, picking at a loose strand on your sweater. “You don’t seem the type to play the long game with gifts and notes, and all that.”

Zacharias paused, an unreadable expression flickering over his face. Running a hand thorough his cropped locks, he looked away at the Black Lake’s horizon before smiling back at you.

“What can I say?” replied Zacharias. “I’m a chaser. I go after what I want. And what I want, is to take you on a date to Hogsmeade this weekend. So…?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

What an absolute line.

Words on the tip of your tongue to turn him down once again, you remembered the words of your wise friends just earlier that afternoon.

What’s the harm? It’s not like there’s anyone else showing up, no matter how much I might wish for it.

Shoving down your disappointment, you made an effort to smile in return at the Hufflepuff in front of you. “I’d love to, Zacharias.”

Offering his arm, you gingerly accepted, and the two of you walked back toward the castle together, watched only by a lone keeper exiting the nearby quidditch pitch.

After your rendezvous at the Black Lake, you had agreed to meet your friends back at your dormitory to dish. Hence, you were laying on your carpet, chronicling the night’s events in scintillating detail. Like you, your friends were surprised by the identity of your admirer.

“Smith? As in Zacharias Smith?” At your nod, Hannah hemmed and hawed before letting out an expressive, “Huh.”

Sitting up from your horizontal position on the floor, you looked at your friend. “What is it?”

Hannah took her time in answering, before finally finding the words. “It’s just that…Zacharias isn’t exactly who I had been picturing.”

While you were loath to admit it, Zacharias hadn’t been who you were expecting that evening either, nor had he been who you had hoped to see. However, you couldn’t help but wonder why Hannah’s expectations weren’t met.

“Why’s that?” you asked.

Before the Hufflepuff could answer, Ginny gave her two cents, “Well, because he’s a complete wanker.”

“Ginny!”

“What, Han!” exclaimed Weasley, “It’s true! And I know you were thinking it too! He’s one of the worst losers I’ve ever seen—and that’s saying something, considering Ron’s my brother.” That sent you all into a fit of giggles, reminiscing on the times you’d had to witness the sore sport Ron could be when it came to quidditch. “Seriously, though,” the girl continued, “I saw him break a broom in a fit after losing in a scrimmage against Ravenclaw. A scrimmage, Y/n.”

“Not to rag on Zacharias, but I can’t say that I’m terribly fond of him either,” added Hannah. “In our third year, he sold out one of his roommates to Snape after they’d broken into the Potions storeroom together, just so he’d get out of detention. Made it terribly awkward between them for the rest of the term” Hannah sighed, “He’s not exactly a model Hufflepuff.”

Their stories only confirmed the sinking suspicion already settling in your mind. The time you had spent with Zacharias wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t something you took to regularly reminiscing on. You distinctly remembered the feeling of relief when your History of Magic project together had ended. But that had been three years ago.  

Plopping down beside you, Hermione nudged your shoulder. “Maybe he’s turned a new leaf? If he did all of this for you to show how interested he was, something’s had to have changed, right? None of us really know him.”

“I’m really hoping you’re right, Hermione” you admitted. “I think the romantic in me might die if I find out he’s the tosser you lot have made him out to be. After all the thought he put into those gifts and notes…”

“It doesn’t bode well to make assumptions about people, Y/n. Just think about all the things people say about Luna,” remarked Padma to your left.

“Pads!” you gasped in shock.

“Look, I love Luna and all her oddities and idiosyncrasies,” Padma offered, “But if I had listened to all the awful things people have said about her, I’d have never become friends with her. People call her Loony Lovegood for Godric’s sake!”

Padma’s reasoning seemed to strike a chord with your group of friends. Sighing, Hannah turned to level a look at you. “Padma’s right, you know. We shouldn’t assume he sucks just from a handful of choice anecdotes.”

“We’ve forgiven all manner of sins, after all,” surmised Ginny. “Even with Ron’s grousing after losing a quidditch match, Hermione still wants to snog the living daylights out of my brother. Can’t understand it for the life of me.”

“Ginny—enough!”

“What? Am I wrong?”

The next day, Hogwarts’s rumor mill was churning out the news of your impending date with Zacharias Smith. Intending to escape the careless whispers and curious looks waiting for you at breakfast in the Great Hall, you had made your way to the Kitchens. With a quick ‘Hello’ to Dobby and Winky, you grabbed a muffin (or three) and stuffed your mouth before heading towards the library. There, the murmurs of your classmates were kept at bay by the harsh glare of Madam Pince, ever the watchful librarian. However, it seemed not everyone feared the archivist’s death glare.

“You’re going out with that prick, Smith?” The harsh accusation had your head snapping to find the person who had leveled it at you. That clipped tone belonged to none other than your coveted Potions partner currently towering above you and your corner table. To the untrained eye, Theo appeared terribly composed. Yet, you could see the tension in his neck, seemingly like a serpent ready to make a lethal strike. His eyes were glacial, boring into your own, mouth in a stern line to complete his sinister expression.

Narrowing your eyes at the venom leaking from his voice, you snappily answered. “I’ve agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him, yes.”

Theo didn’t seem to very much like your answer.

“Why?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Why’ve you agreed to go out with that gormless git?”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought it was a joke when Enzo mentioned it. I wouldn’t do you the disservice of imagining it possible. How could Y/n go out with someone so incredibly thick and inconsiderate? Imagine my surprise when I found out Berkshire was being completely serious.”

You were struck by the leveled ire of his words. The Theo in front of you was completely unrecognizable to you, no longer the sarcastic and thoughtful Slytherin you had come to know—come to care for. While it was perfectly fair for you to have your reservations about your upcoming date with the Hufflepuff, Theo had no right to poke his nose in your business. Anger began to bubble up inside of you like a heated cauldron.

“Not that it’s your concern, Theo, or Berkshire’s—or anyone’s concern for that matter, but yes, I have agreed to go out with him.”

Theo had the gall to laugh. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am completely serious!” you scoffed. “And he’s been exceedingly thoughtful and considerate, if you must know. Sweets, flowers, notes, and the like! What do you know about being considerate, Theodore? Coming in here to scold me like a child!”

The face in front of you drained of color, no longer a vexed red. Confusion replaced his choleric expression before settling into his stony façade once more.

“You really think Smith would do all of that, for you? That he would care about you that much?”

His questions sent a painful pang through your heart, never expecting such cruelty from someone you had come to consider as a friend, and possibly more.

“As a matter of fact, Nott, I do.” With each word out of your mouth, that carefully constructed mask of measured indifference solidified. Everything you said would only bounce off his exterior. The boy in front of you was beyond reach.

Kissing his teeth, Nott hummed. “And here I was, giving you more credit than you deserved. My mistake.” With that, the Slytherin spun on his feet, making his swift exit from the library.

With half a mind to go after him, you popped out of your seat, chair screeching against the ground. You called out at his retreating form.

“Nott, what—where are you going? We’ve got Potions in five!”

“You’ll manage without me, L/n.”

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7, @adoraspace, @spencerreidsthings, @crimsntwlip, @readingthingsonhere, @sbrn0905, @violet2022, @aemiliazzz, @hoeforvinniehackerrr, @chgrch, @the-sylver-dragon, @ahead-fullofdreams, @thoughtfultrashcolor, @valenftcrush, @shereadsandcries, @someoneisreading, @killyoselff, @lovrsm, @teslaraven20, @ezziewinchester, @whyareyouhere66, @whosyourgnomie, @ahead-fullofdreams, @the-sylver-dragon, @chgrch, @ellen3101, @cobrakaineverdiesblog, & @lazycrazyme

[hopeswriting]

daily life arc miura haru. does anyone know who i'm talking about. do you guys remember her. i still can't believe what happened to her 😔

[penwrythe]

What's stopping the possibility of a ceasefire is pretty simple. Hamas is holding 239 Israeli civilians hostage including children and the elderly. What's happening in Palestine is a travesty and horrendous. But Israel can't initiate a ceasefire from the position they're in, so we need to be agitating for Hamas to release the hostages and call for a ceasefire instead.

NO GENOCIDE IS JUSTIFIABLE

HOW DOES THE KILLING OF INNOCENT PEOPLE ON THIS EXTREME LEVEL FORCE HAMAS TO RETURN HOSTAGES??

ISRAEL'S BOMBARDMENT AND INDISCRIMINATE SHOOTING IN GAZA THREATEN EVERYONE THERE INCLUDING DOCTORS JOURNALISTS CHILDREN ENTIRE FAMILIES AND THE HOSTAGES

EVERYONE IS TARGETED

YOU HAVE HOSPITALS BOMBED HOW ANY OF THIS IS JUSTIFIED

@sarroora @fairuzfan @palipunk @wearenotjustnumbers2

You know more about this than I do.

[voidshrub]

PARTY CRASHERS!!

Aka “A princess and his knight both kicking equal amounts of ass” aka “THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AN UNDERCOVER MISSION YOU IMBECILES”

[whatever-you-can-give-me]

man. racism in fandom is one of those things that brings to mind that tumblr post about realizing there's a spot on the wallpaper and peeling it back to reveal black mold has taken over the entire house.

i was trying to draft a post about the hypocrisy of people insisting that people don't draw wolfwood brown enough, heavy implication that any fanart compliant to his stampede design [and sometimes his older designs, which are not as dark as his fandom design would imply] (including that which portrays him as east asian, which is probably how he was designed and how many east asian artists draw him, but i digress, the colorism thing is a Different Post) is Doing Something Wrong TM and should be treated as such, when "wolfwood must be This Brown, This Hot, This Buff, This Racialized to pass" is a significant contributor to the whole "vashwood, but wolfwood is a sex god papi with massive honkers and an even bigger dick, and vash is a 150 year old blushing virgin whose delicate flower has never been touched by a man" stereotype bullshit, because of how certain fandomgoers especially in slash fandom view brown men.

and then i realized that "the shift in wolfwood's characterization in fanwork [and the corollary effect on vash as his designated white boyfriend] has direct correlation to him being fanon-redesigned into a much more racialized and darker-skinned character than in any iteration" is like. SO many layers deep in the analysis of fandom politics and requires SO much awareness and acceptance of the genuinely fucked up patterns of slash fandom and online fandom in general.

...and most people who are Being Mad On Twitter To Indicate Their Moral Values do not get that far. most people see the spot on the wallpaper and get really mad about the spot, because if they acknowledged the black mold, they wouldn't get to continue to live in The House That Fandom Built without knowing something's wrong with it anymore.

[lohstandfound]

ignore this.

learning to shut up when i dont have anything new to say to the discussions my mutuals are having about the treatment of the female characters in this show and fandom

even though ive just gone ahead and rambled in the tags a bunch of bullshit

[not-poignant]

Today two of my mutuals have posted AI 'art' on my dash and I'm having a real problem with it because AI 'art' is unethical and horrible right now in the way it steals from artists to exist and offers zero credit (or choice) to them.

So, first, if you're a mutual - would you want to know if you've posted AI 'art?' Do you care at all about artists?

Second, I really wish Tumblr had a mute or snooze button sometimes, because AI 'art' makes me want to hurl.

Thirdly, if you ARE going to keep posting AI 'art' please tag it as such, so I can at least blacklist it and not see those posts.

[redhotarsenic]

I just saw a really neat and cute and heartfelt looking picture of little knives and him being protective of vash and I look in the tags and. Plantcest.

[orcelito]

Honestly I have realized that 99% of my shipping of vashwood comes from trimax. Yea I vibed with it while watching tristamp but trimax is what took my utter heart and soul

It's to the point where I just don't rly enjoy tristamp vashwood that much anymore hfkshfjd like. OK? Those sure are some dudes. Not My dudes tho, sorry.

[kami-kun1003]

@beetroot-merchant

All of the research on display in my videos is single-handedly done by me.

All the editing? Me.

Prop making? Absolutely no one can be held accountable for this but me.