#sorry you dont get context without reading the fic

[feyind]

various sketches drawn while writing ch14

sortie cheval on ao3 x

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons. 

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased. 

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness. 

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart. 

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it. 

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first. 

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear. 

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. 

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!” 

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him. 

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants. 

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day. 

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides. 

Please be okay. 

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors. 

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure. 

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised. 

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you. 

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water. 

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand. 

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking. 

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds. 

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.” 

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had. 

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space. 

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed. 

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall. 

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him. 

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it. 

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards. 

So much for leaving quietly. 

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity. 

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready. 

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself. 

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard. 

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing. 

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first. 

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water. 

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to. 

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now. 

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered. 

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew. 

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck. 

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle. 

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship. 

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck. 

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below. 

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes. 

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible. 

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows. 

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope. 

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination. 

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere. 

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck. 

What he sees puts his heart in his throat. 

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them. 

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream. 

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened. 

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out. 

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up. 

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck. 

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk. 

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife. 

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad. 

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight. 

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was. 

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading. 

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice. 

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons. 

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror. 

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment. 

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand. 

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck. 

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck. 

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray. 

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings. 

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless. 

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time. 

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side. 

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand. 

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there. 

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget. 

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.  

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence. 

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.” 

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says. 

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live. 

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger. 

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King. 

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation. 

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign. 

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod. 

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below. 

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work. 

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames. 

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water. 

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t. 

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own? 

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father. 

He could find his freedom elsewhere. 

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness. 

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing. 

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.  

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to. 

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it. 

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place. 

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood. 

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits. 

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water. 

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water. 

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat. 

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck. 

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you. 

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in. 

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash. 

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own. 

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him. 

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects  but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it. 

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you. 

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea. 

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you. 

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more. 

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal. 

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could. 

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms. 

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards. 

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has. 

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything. 

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far. 

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface. 

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them. 

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck. 

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing. 

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose. 

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue. 

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!” 

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half. 

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off. 

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you. 

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything. 

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly. 

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body. 

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out. 

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily. 

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship. 

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it. 

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain. 

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies. 

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence. 

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision. 

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious. 

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element. 

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors. 

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen. 

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died. 

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights. 

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say. 

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan. 

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.” 

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place. 

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks. 

“Everything,” you sigh. 

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles. 

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for. 

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal. 

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead. 

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum. 

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question. 

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen. 

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid. 

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last. 

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another. 

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless. 

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet. 

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time. 

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity. 

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand. 

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment. 

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck. 

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.  

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss. 

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now. 

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has. 

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table. 

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring. 

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after. 

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless. 

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.” 

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies. 

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men. 

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun. 

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same. 

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back. 

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit. 

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart. 

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted. 

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company. 

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents. 

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms. 

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”  

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed. 

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him. 

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life. 

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner. 

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night. 

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion. 

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented. 

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone. 

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile. 

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?” 

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment. 

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?” 

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours. 

But you don’t. 

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him. 

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably. 

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you. 

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly. 

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him. 

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer. 

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth. 

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more. 

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath. 

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back. 

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face. 

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight. 

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely. 

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign. 

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own. 

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask. 

“Has the Captain approached?” 

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.” 

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body. 

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep. 

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss. 

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out. 

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock. 

“Your guards mortify me.” 

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway. 

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it. 

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle. 

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving. 

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him. 

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed. 

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much. 

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether. 

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing. 

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed. 

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable. 

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar  that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound. 

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound. 

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air. 

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up. 

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh. 

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard. 

“Soonyoung!” 

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced. 

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs. 

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach. 

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?” 

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question. 

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah. 

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him. 

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know. 

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive. 

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten. 

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?” 

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his. 

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly. 

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white. 

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers. 

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused. 

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were. 

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue. 

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit. 

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder. 

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt. 

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further. 

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system. 

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree. 

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible. 

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were. 

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath. 

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you. 

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him. 

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence. 

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks. 

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling. 

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth. 

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you. 

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before. 

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up. 

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?” 

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear. 

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions. 

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth. 

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?” 

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.” 

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.” 

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you. 

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you. 

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest. 

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again. 

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before. 

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely. 

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud. 

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own. 

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely. 

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay. 

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake. 

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern. 

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you. 

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched. 

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed. 

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure. 

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast. 

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again. 

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further. 

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop. 

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you. 

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made. 

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs. 

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face. 

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could. 

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth. 

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest. 

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping. 

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine. 

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark. 

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart. 

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens. 

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this. 

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same. 

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.” 

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name. 

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.” 

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes. 

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers. 

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers. 

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone. 

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly. 

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens. 

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow. 

You could get used to this. And you will. 

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace. 

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses. 

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer. 

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks. 

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship. 

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow. 

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take. 

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago. 

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern. 

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom. 

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?” 

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you. 

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.” 

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s. 

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands. 

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port. 

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at. 

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace. 

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light. 

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder. 

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back. 

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon. 

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend. 

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings. 

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you. 

Always. 

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

[bluegiragi]

I hate to ask this cause it feels stupid but I dont wanna do a bunch of research on whatever the recent cod mw fandom discourse is,

but I saw the reblog of someone accusing you of supporting people who write sexualized pedophilia and that really is personally my only """"moral"""" with nsfw shit, (I'm a patreon subscriber and ig I just wanna know where my money's going) is THAT true?

i used to follow an artist who, 5-6 months ago made racist art featuring gaz and soap in a slave context, which I didn't like, retweet or interact with in any way. they also made under-age art of ghost soap, which I also didn't interact with . people on twitter called me out yesterday, for retweeting (months before this incident) other art they'd made as evidence I stood by/encouraged/was an avid fan of all these tropes. The art I retweeted wasn't either of these previous examples of art, but one where ghost and soap were sleeping in a bed together, as adults, peacefully. I can't emphasise enough that I have not interacted with this artist at all, for over six months. The callout in question has framed me as a close friend of theirs when, in truth, our total timeline of interactions could probably be counted on one hand, and I haven't interacted with her in so long that I genuinely forgot I was still following her.

The crux of all is this is that I did not unfollow + block this artist earlier on when the racist art was posted months ago, and then I retweeted a fic tagged with "non-con" (ghost gets soap off in a context where he can't really properly consent, they're in front of a crowd of strangers and they have to fuck, but both parties are into each other) written by a friend as I wanted to support their writing.

The pedophile claims are because I retweeted a fandom bingo post that defended loli-con without reading all the squares properly, and then immediately un-retweeted it when I properly read it. All in all, the post was on my account for maybe a few minutes.

The zoophile claims are because people say i support someone who wrote zoophilic fic and called people slurs, and I genuinely don't know who they're talking about there.

The anti-asian racism claims come from the original accusers in the callout thread thinking that I made Horangi's eyes in the monster!AU sensitive as a way of making fun of Asian eyes. The real reason is because he's a cat hybrid in that AU and cats are sensitive to light.

I tried addressing all this in a casual way earlier on in a misguided attempt to sort things out more 'civilly', and responded to an ask talking about my "support" for the artist who drew the slave Gaz art by saying the fanart in question was tone deaf and in poor taste. It wasn't enough for some people, so I'm happy to say it clearly- yes, it was racist, and the reason why I didn't want to be more aggressive is because I didn't want to extend all this mess by throwing this artist directly to the wolves - I genuinely believed them at the time when they said that wasn't that their intention, and think they should've deleted the post at the time, but not unfollowing was a decision that I made. I know now upon reflection that it was naive of me, unwarranted and frankly irresponsible to take a stranger at face value and believe they had good intentions, when the act of not deleting the post in question was evidence of a lack in remorse. In the moment, I'd thought back to my own personal experience with a friend of mine who used an asian slur in my company, who later sincerely apologised and legitimately cleaned up his act after I gave him a second chance. It informed my choice to not unfollow at the time, but there's a difference between someone you know irl for months and a stranger on the internet you've interacted with a few times. I shouldn't have coddled them in my response, and I'm sorry for not treating it with the severity it deserved. It was callous, and stupid, and indicative of internal biases that I ever thought it was a light enough offence to "see through", and I deeply deeply apologise. I promise from the bottom of my heart to do better.

That's everything so far. I didn't unfollow an artist when I absolutely should've, which i'll always strongly regret. I also retweeted a properly-tagged fic on my clearly 18+ nsfw account. I've undone both of those actions now. I hope this can be the end of it.

[scriblubed-bonnibel]

Super Blind

Close friends to lovers | Jordan Li x (gn)reader

Reader will use they/them pronouns as well (lets go nonbinaries woooh <3) Just some oneshot I’ve been brain rotting about while scrolling through tumblr.

Summary: Jordan and y/n have been flirting every now and then but can’t seem to confess. One day they just… do.

Context: reader has powers that affect their emotions. Be it taking them from others, making them feel emotions, just reading their emotions, and sometimes they can even exude their emotions; having others feel it when closer to the reader.

Warnings: bad language, cute moments, kissing

If you aren’t ok with the whole “switching between masc and fem” thing then feel free to click off (tho i doubt it cause ure reading a Jordan Li fic so yeah)

—————————————————————————

“Emma I don’t know anymore! Jordan’s probably high fucking some- fucking dude! And I’m here lonely-“ “hey!” Emma looks at me offended, “and ranting to my best friend about my crush for like what- years now!” Emma stands up and puts her hands on my shoulders, “hey, if it’s worth anything. JORDAN TOTALLY FUCKING LIKES YOU YOU IDIOT.” She shakes me back and forth.

“You’re just saying that” I brush her off and flop on my bed. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She looks at me dumbfounded and as if I said the stupidest thing ever. “They literally gaze at you. And did you not notice the fact that uhhh you have flowers on your desk from them!” She gestures to the small flower arrangement on my desk.

“Big whoop. They got those flowers for me after I recovered from that stupid slip.” I rolled my eyes at her. “This-“ Emma trails off in frustration and face palms. “Listen, I’m just saying, Jordan, one of the top students, most probably maybe possibly has a crush on you maybe wants to even fuck you!” I laugh at her and just pull the covers over myself. “I doubt it! Now leave cause I’m pretty sure you’re late for one of your classes.”

“OH SHI-“ she’s cut off by the sound of a door slamming shut. “Loser” I laugh and close my eyes under the blanket, trying to just forget about Jordan… Jordan… Jordan… and.. y/n. Y/n and Jordan. A dreamy sigh escapes my lips as I swoon once more. Without even realizing, sleep takes over me.

Gentle knocks from my door wakes me up. “Emma for the last time my door is always open!!” I yell. “You lock your door once when she wants to visit and she just forgets it’s always open..” I grumble. The door opens slowly. “Y/n..?” Jordan’s voice calls out.

wait

Jordan’s. Voice? Their. Voice? Panic shoots through me as I sit up in distress. “Jordan-“ i cough quickly to try to sound less panicked, “uh- ahem Jordan! Hey, hi! DONT COME IN- I’m- my room is a mess-“ I look around and see the door still cracked a little bit. “Not- not looking! Just wanted you to know it’s me!” They say, laughing softly… I sigh again… their laugh- FIX YOUR ROOM AND YOURSELF GET IT TOGETHER.

I run to the full body mirror and fix myself up. Taming my bedhead, adjusting my sleeping shirt and shorts, making sure I look normal but also… maybe a tiny little bit cute. I fix up the random clutter on the floor and spray a little bit of cologne everywhere.

I get to the door and put my hand on my heart to sorta calm down. Okay… one.. two.. three and-

There is no denying how stupidly in love I looked the moment I opened the door to see them in their feminine. Eyes softened, lips in a content smile, and sighing dreamily. “Hi~” I breathed out, still swooning. They dont help my case at all when they smirk and look at me in a similar manner. “Hi…” they trail off, blinking a few times before getting both of us out of our trance.

“Sorry for uhh the whole emotion wafting off of me. Still learning how to control it.” I laugh awkwardly. They wave their hand in a ‘nah dont worry’ motion, “Y/n you know I dont mind that at all. We’re all learning.” We both smile briefly, “so, whatcha doing here?” I open the door wider and sit on my bed. They enter, closing the door behind them, and sit next to me. “I uhh honestly…” I wasn’t looking at them, too busy fiddling with my hands, but I heard them change into their masculine form. “I was just around.. and wanted to hang with you…” ‘hang out.. with me?’ I thought before I looked at them.

They were.. already looking at me. A blush slowly crept up on my face as I internally panicked, replying to cover up my distress. “Uhh yeah sure, we could invite Cate for a girls time, or maybe have Emma ditch for I dont know-” I get cut off “why not just us?” They ask, shrugging nonchalantly. “Just us?” I repeat. “Y’know… just Y/n and Jordan. Just us.” Their gaze is turned away for some reason.. “I MEAN- if you don’t want to then yeah of course Kate could come arou-” they began to ramble but I touch their hand gently, focusing on calming their emotions down.

“I would like that” I smile. “Yeah..? Like a date right that’s what I’m trying to invite you to” they clarify, their emotions wafting to me… infatuation, swooning, happiness… ‘they’re happy…’. I smile and nod happily.

They stand up and offer their hand, then an uncertainty surfaces on their face. “Uhm… do you want feminine or masculine..?” They ask still in their masculine form. “Are you shitting me? How many times do I have to say this. Anything is fine as long as it’s what you want and what you feel like.” I smile up at them and stand from the bed to give them a quick hug. I hear them changing into their feminine form/nothing change as they decide to remain in their masculine form and push them to face away from me. I smile, feeling more comfortable with them again, dropping the whole “in love with you” deal and being my authentic self.

“Now don’t fucking peak, lemme just change clothes.” I said as I looked at my closet. “Where’re we going again?”

Jordan’s POV

‘I cannot fucking believe they said yes- I mean I know Kate said they liked me but I was still unsure-‘ “Jordan!!! Helloooo?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts when Y/n shakes me from behind. “Earth to Jordannn, where are you taking meeeeee.” I chuckle at their antics, “just dress casual, we aren’t going to the fucking gala or something.” I laugh and I hear shuffling behind me. Tempted… I turn slowly- “not a fucking peep Jordan Li.” They say sternly. I laugh and put my hands up in defense “alright alright.”

Moments pass and I feel two taps on my shoulder. I turn and smile at them. Wearing such comfy yet cute clothes to our first date. Our first date. Damn.

Reader’s POV

Walking around with Jordan Li was normal. We would do this from time to time whenever stress got to us. But this was different. This was a fucking date. Like, hand brushing against each other, got coffee or tea kinda fucking date.

We decided to walk around campus, much to the distaste of Jordan. “You are sooo fucking lucky I put up with your goody-two-shoes behavior” they tell me, squinting playfully at me. “I am very lucky thank you.” I respond to spite them. They smile and shake their head.

We walk in comforting silence. It’s so strange how the context of a walk can change the whole way it feels. Normally we would just walk casually and we would talk about anything and everything. Shoving each other, being just friends. But now… it feels so… pure? I guess… like puppy love. Jordan taking glances at me and I would do the same. Whenever we meet eyes they’d chuckle as I look away shyly. They’re just… too sweet.

“Are you enjoying?”

I look up in surprise, not realizing we had stopped walking. “Yeah of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, worried I had done something wrong. “Just making sure, that’s all. Cause I wouldn’t want to be the only one enjoying our date” they smile at me sweetly. A worry forms in my stomach when my brain starts to go on hyperdrive. They aren’t… joking about this right…? My walls start building as I worry that Jordan was just put up to this for a stupid fucking prank.

Jordan takes my hand in worry, shifting to their masculine form. A tendency they did when they were worried about me. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I say something?” I pull my hand back slowly. “You aren’t.. doing this for a dare right.. cause- cause I know I’m not that good at hiding my crushes but if this was a fucking joke I swear-” I’m suddenly silenced as they pull me in close for a hug. “I know Y/n. If it’s a joke, you swear you’ll make me miserable for the rest of my life.” Their chest rumbles as they chuckle. “It’s not a joke… the only thing I had help with was ask Cate to make me go to your dorm and ask you out blatantly.”

I step back a little, “you what?” I laugh incredulously. “Listen! I keep hearing rumors that you like me but I never saw it! Cate always told me that I was Super-”

“Blind?” I finish their sentence. “Yeah, Emma told me the same thing” I shake my head and laugh in disbelief. “So… you do like me?” They ask, as they lift my chin to look into their eyes. My breath hitches and I nod quietly. “Good.. cause.. I like you too… maybe.. even more than like.” They smile and shift back to their feminine form, something they did.. when they felt comfortable with me.

Their hand on my chin slowly travelled to my cheek and soothingly rubbed it with their thumb. The blush from earlier creeps up again and I silently plead that Jordan can’t feel my face slowly heat up. They chuckle, “I never realized how cute you looked whenever you blush…” the warmth blooms past my cheeks and into my chest as the butterflies flutter more intensely. “Y/n..?” Jordan asks softly, their eyes not even trying to hide the fact that they’re looking at my lips. “Yes..?” I reply just as softly.

“Can I.. kiss you?” I stop functioning the moment they stop talking. Unable to speak I do one slow and obvious nod to say yes. “Thank you” they smile and lean in lips barely touching, as if telling me that if I wanted to back out now, now is the time. But fuck that I’m getting that kiss.

I smile and kiss them deeply, tiptoeing a little bit to wrap my arms around their neck. The smile on our lips palpable and our emotions mixing with one another as pure happiness exudes from the both of us.

We part after a moment, smiling widely. They chuckle softly. “What’s so funny? Was my breath bad- did I hit your teeth? What is it what?!” I panicked.

“Nothing nothing!” They laugh, “Just… you’re so cute… I couldn’t stop feeling your butterflies wafting off of you ever since we started the date. And well.. every time you see me.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!” I gasped and hit them playfully, they shift to their masculine form and held my hands together in front of me. “I didn’t tell you because…how could I tell the cutest person in the world,” they lean in and kiss me gently once more and whisper, “that even their emotions are cute?”

This person will be the end of me… and I love it.

—————————————————————————

EEEE I’m so glad I got to finish this cksndjsz my brain cannot for the love of me stop thinking about Jordan. THEY’RE JUST SO CISJDJSZJ C U T E.

Anyways, feel free to give comments on how I can improve ! And ofc I hope you enjoyed ♡

Edit: holy f u c k- Im v surprised this is getting 300 notes 😭 im very glad people are enjoying !! College is just biting my ass but I’m writing other fics from other fandoms!

Take care always!

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the bafta livestream out of context: top 60 cursed quotes.

There is nothing more cursed than the livestream I just witnessed, and I made a summary post but now I'm just going to put in quotes by the worthy maggots in the stream with no context, because BELIEVE ME THE CONTEXT DIDN'T MAKE ANYTHING BETTER. The livestream chat was NOT A PLACE OF THE LORD.

I'm going to make the quotes that were by me a different colour. Please know that I am NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR A SINGLE QUOTE OTHER THAN THOSE. SO HERE'S THE TOP 60 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

Barbenhimer awakened things in me ok

aroace people the most disturbingly sexual talkers on the planet fight me on this

WHO JUST GASPED

MICHAEL SHEENS BABY TALKING BARK BADK IM A DOG BARK WOOF

I feel so sorry for this woman. She's being so heartfelt and we're here thristing over a slinky that possessed a man

IRELAAAND PLEASE ADOPT ME AS YOUR OWN PLEASE TAKE ME TO THE LAND OF UNPRONOUNCABLE WORDS, GREEN FEILD, CATHOLISISM AND HOZIER PLEASE

the urge to go to france and misgender a croissant is real

Devastated the slutty knees have gone away

So many men nowadays are so submissive and breedable like thank you lord for these men thank you

witches and murder slime tutorial

speaking of royals did the bloke who ISN'T lizzy's husband but her son apparently die yet

Turtleneck Crowley is my gender.

WE COULD HAVE LEFT IT AS NOT SAFE FOR WORK WHY THE DRTAOLS ASMI

SAY AN BFUIL CEAD AGAM DUL GO DTÍ AN LEITHREAS AN WE'LL LET YOU THROUGJ

"Oompa loompa doopety dee, I really hated being in this movie" -Hugh grant probably

IF YOU'RE A CHILD AVERT YOUR EYES FROM THAT MESSAGE IM SORRY

i want the kilt back this a betrayal

if someone put me in a room with kilt!david tennant one of us is walking out of that room pregnant and its not gonna be me

a lot of these words are in the bible and none of them should be in that order you need jesus

Can we vote to make david wear that kilt back? Maybe make him do a twirl this time

You mean Bildaddy? 😏

Honey what make you think a dude who roamed around with prostitutes and got himself more holes for mankind won't be calling bildad bildaddy? [this was about jesus btw.]

FREE THE KNEE

Show us the knees!

AND YOU'RE COMING AFTER ME FOR MY BLOWJOB BANANA

He looks like those fancy chocolates. Imma take a bite outta him. Think you'll leak molten goo like them?

My brain isn't working, I read "bratty couch jr"

i'm sorry the what holes

FIND ME ON GOAD AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY APPROPRIATELY

I genuinely thought it was a road typo and I thought you were threatening asmi with physical violence on the road

OHH FLOWER OF SCOTLAAAAAAND

Combine that with the unfortunate oranges and see what happens.

DEVASTATING NEWS I ATE UP ALL OF THEM SO I'VE BROUGHT A BLOWJOB BANANA INSTEAD

That reminded me of the army video where the guy was deepthroating a 7 inch banana without a hitch.

OMG THEY JUST FLASHED BACK & I GOT A GLIMPSE OF THAT KILT 🥵🥵🥵

thats why apollo had to deliver you at an illegal sushi restaurant

How long do you think it would take to get david naked from his chocolate man suit? Can we set a new speedrun category?

SUPERBOWL FOR TENNANTISTS

Big feelings about pants straps in the chat tonight

Last time i check yoire supposed to thank the lord gor his gifts

HEY GUYS ASMI'S FROM A PARALLEL UNIVERSE CONFIRMED

I just have a deep appreciation for ireland

Can you use suspenders as bondage gear? I mean it looks like it would be fine? I mean if you make the length a bit more they might be more comfortable than ropes. Just sayin

All i can think when i see him in the costume is the one specific ken and oppenhimer slash fic. Lord help me i can't be saved

GIVE MY LOVE TO THE LEPRECHAAAAAAAAAAAUNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Like a giant orange slice on her one arm.

Stop hitting the lectern geez / what if its into that?

Men who wear suspenders are such losers like why do you need so much cloth to keep your pants up. Why dont you just wear a belt. Where do you live. What is your timezone. What are you office hours

what is this suspender shaming ari chappal for you

Aziraphales office hours are: fuck off

Put me ina room with a suspender wearing man and he shall have the same fate as kilttennant

MARIYADAM E ILLAI

It was titled "snake in my b***" It meant butt lmfao

CROWLEY AND LOKI MY GENDERFLUID ICONS

THE KNEES ARE BACK

THEKNEES GOD SAVE ME FROM THESE SINFUL THOUGHTS

What if slutshaming is my kink?

NOT THE BLOWJOB FACE NO

AT THIS POINT IF NEIL HASN'T UNFOLLOWED ME YET HE'S ASKING TO BE MENTALLY SCARRED IM SORRY

I am failing

Tagging the main culprits whose tumblr handles I know:

@thearoacemess @vitrilol @queermarzipan @good-usernames-were-taken

Cheers, maggots.

[itsjustrosee]

hiiii idk really what to call you bc yeah anyways i have a request fir u but feel free to take ur time with it idm at all seeing as ur blog is relatively new and u probably have a bunch of asks and stuff because ur first two fics were absolute masterpieces like literally anyways im rambling im so sorry uh

(u can skip that part) So my request is basically where minho and fem!reader are really good friends and shes like a track-hoe and basically has a really flirty personality so she flirts with all her friends and minho always gets flustered uh or something like that and one time he sees her flirting with idk one of the gladers and he gets jealous thinking that shes dating (said glader) and then she confronts him about it and they kiss and live happily ever after :D

sorry this is super long and confusing dont rush to do it take ur time !!

Ok I'm honestly getting so impressed with these requests, they are so thought out and unique and I'm literally living for it. Btw my name is Rosalyn so feel free to call me that or sometimes I go by rose but address me however you'd like <3 Anyways thank you so much for the request and all of the praise, I appreciate it sm!!

Anyways, this was a super cute prompt idea I absolutely love it, so I hope you enjoy!

JEALOUS (Minho x fem!reader)

Context: pre Thomas, read above for summary ^

Warnings: spice

Word count: 4K

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

When you arrived in the glade being a girl, it was quite a surprise for everyone.

Most of the boys tried to be pretty accepting, and after a while, you managed to get along really well with everyone. But if you're being honest, it was all due to your rather, flirty, personality.

That, however, you can't really be blamed for. I mean, you couldn't help it, it was just the way that you were!

It did, however, prove to be a slight problem during your first few months in the glade. You can't blame the rest of the boys for taking your subtle flirty gestures the wrong way, if you were them, you'd probably take the things that you said the wrong way too. So by no means was it their fault for thinking you liked them. But unfortunately, you never reciprocated their feelings, which only confused them more.

Anyways, the first person to understand this was Newt. He was always okay with your overly friendly personality and never actually got the wrong idea from you. That's probably why he became your first friend in the glade, and why when he said you should become a track hoe, you accepted his offer immediately. He, along with the rest of the track hoes' were rather chill and you enjoyed spending time with all of them.

You would consider yourself the closest with them out of all the other people in the glade, so you often hung out with them during the bonfires and dinner. However, you were relatively close with just about every boy in the glade, given your personality, but regardless, you naturally gravitated towards everyone.

It took a couple months for everyone to come to terms with your behavior and rather flirtatious personality, so after about five months, everything was going pretty smoothly. Under the given circumstances and all. Being trapped in a maze was by no means easy, but you were making the most of it. You had developed a good daily routine, and you can only imagine without the structure you and the other gladers had built for themselves, you all would've gone mad by now.

Part of your routine was waking up early. Alby had made Gally and the other builders build you a hut for obvious reasons, and Gally was happy to do it if it meant getting on your good side. You enjoyed the privacy from the rest of the boys but since you had a hut, you had a bed. A bed that was impossible for you to force yourself out of in the morning. After a couple weeks though, you got into the right mindset and started waking up right when the sun started peaking over the maze walls.

You woke up early so you could get a head start with some of the work in the garden. This meant you just spent a bit of extra time plucking out weeds and getting extra fertilizer from the deadheads. You did this to lightly the load that you and the rest of the track hoes' had to do, and you also did it because you just enjoyed being productive.

But one of the secret advantages of waking up early to tend to the garden was seeing the runners leave right when the maze doors opened. You took the brief amount of time they had before leaving to talk to them because they were all very busy people, and getting any opportunity to have a quick chat with them mattered to you. Especially because it meant you got to talk to Minho.

You never admitted it to anyone, but Minho was one of the only boys in the glade that you actually felt attracted to. You couldn't quite understand why, but you always felt drawn to him.

Maybe it was because he was held so high by all the gladers, even though none of them were ever able to talk to him because of how busy his schedule was. He was in the maze all day and when he finally returned from a long day of working to find a way out of the maze for himself and everyone else in the glade, he would be in the maze room. He was working, constantly. Which is why you felt special whenever you had the chance to talk to him. Even if it was just for a couple seconds.

Or maybe you liked him because he still got flustered whenever you talked to him. You would always try to be as respectful towards him as possible, but your flirtatiousness always found a way to shine through. And he seemed to be the only boy who hadn't gotten over how flirty you were, even though every other boy knew that that was just the way you were.

Needless to say, you had a pretty big crush on him, one that you tried your hardest to deny. But you really couldn't help it, which is why you chose to become friends with him. You decided to settle with that because you were sure he wasn't interested in being anything more. Even though Newt often tended to think otherwise.

But you still couldn't help but think that it was just so cute how whenever you talked to him he would fumble over his words, or get as red as the tomatoes you were tending to whenever you even touched him.

However, whenever Minho acted all flustered like this, he would curse at himself relentlessly, wondering why he was as awkward as he was whenever he was near you.

The truth is, he had been down horrendously for you the second Alby pulled you out of the box. At first, he chalked it up to you just being the only girl and well, he couldn't exactly remember the last time he had seen one of those. But as the weeks went on, his feelings for you only deepened. He never saw a point in telling you because every boy who confessed his 'love' to you got rejected. Part of that made him feel glad though because he knew that just about none of the boys in the glade were good enough for you, and he felt happy knowing you would never like any of them. But the downside to that was Minho thinking that he would never have a chance with you.

That never stopped him from wanting to talk to you though. He would purposely make sure to stop by the garden to talk to you before he headed into the maze. Whenever you weren't in the garden, he would check the deadheads to see if you were there. Once he found you, he would make some excuse by saying he was just taking a walk in the woods to clear his head before going into the maze.

He really didn't know why talking to you mattered to him so much, but it just did. And today was no different.

You were nealing down next to garden beds that Gally and some of the others had just built. It was a relatively new addition to the garden and you had just finished filling them with soil and fertilizer yesterday. So you were eager to begin planting some of the last remaining seeds that were sent up from the box into the beds.

You could always tell when a month would pass by when you ran out. The box always sent up a certain amount of seedlings and by the time you ran out, a month would pass and the box would come back up, providing you with another month's worth. So as you planted the last seed in the pouch, you knew that in a few hours, a new greenie would appear from the box, symbolizing the start/ end of yet another month in the glade.

You stood up, dusting off your knees as you congratulated yourself on your wonderful planting skills. But your eyes wandered away from the garden and onto Minho, who was now walking your way. Your heartbeat quickened as you saw him. He arrived slightly earlier than normal because you noticed that you hadn't seen any of the other runners with him, but you also knew it would only be a few minutes until they came to join him.

Minho mentally prepared himself while he walked up to you, telling himself that he was going to be normal today, and he wasn't going to start stuttering like an idiot.

At least that's what he tried telling himself as he approached you, clearing his throat, "Hey (Y/N)," Minho said while resting his hands on that runner's vest he always wore on top of his signature blue shirt which complimented each of the defined muscles on his chest.

"Hi, Minho." You said with a smile on your face that couldn't help but make Minho blush. "What brings you out so early? The maze doors don't open for another five minutes don't they?" You questioned. You had gotten pretty good at telling time around the glade, even without a watch like Minho.

"Oh yeah, I just thought that maybe I'd get over here a little earlier," Minho said with an awkward chuckle as he tried to smile back at you.

"Ah, I see," you said before continuing, "Is it cause you wanted to spend a little extra time talking to me?" You said with a giggle, trying to make a little light-hearted joke as you stared up at Minho with puppy dog eyes.

Minho however, did not take this as a joke. He began blushing, hard. "Oh no that's not why- wait no that's not what I meant. Like I love talking to you but that's not why-" Before Minho could continue to embarrass himself further, you cut him off.

"Minho I was just joking." You said with a laugh, trying your best to reassure him because clearly, he was mentally freaking out. You couldn't get over how cute he was when he was like this. You were always so used to seeing him act serious and stoic in every other situation, but whenever it came to you, he was a mess.

"Yeah- right. Of course." Minho said awkwardly, trying his hardest to laugh off the situation. He felt his cheeks heat up as you continued to look at him for a moment while taking off your gardening gloves. He couldn't help but take the time to admire you and the features on your face while you did so.

You had your hair tied into a loose braid that was slung over your shoulder and onto your chest. His eyes glanced up and down your body to see that you were wearing a pair of low-rise jean shorts paired with a V-neck shirt that clung to your curves and exposed your chest slightly.

You noticed his eyes drift to your chest and laughed silently to yourself but didn't say anything else to him. You normally didn't mind having the boys in the glade stare at you because, at this point, it was to be expected. But you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as Minho looked at you, and you couldn't help but feel happy that you decided to wear this shirt today.

"If it makes you feel any better, I love talking to you too Minho." You joked, even though you definitely meant it. Your voice broke the slightly awkward silence that had filled the air while you put your hand on his bicep. No matter how many times you've made this gesture toward Minho, it never fails to surprise you with how firm his muscles are. It also never failed to make Minho physically stiffen and make his mind go completely blank.

You absentmindedly began softly rubbing Minho's bicep with your thumb. You were genuinely curious about how he had gotten this strong. Was it all the running he did? Did they have weights in the glade that you just didn't know about? You weren't quite too sure what it was but you were loving it.

You snapped out of your thoughts though as you saw the other runners approaching the garden. You looked back up at Minho with a soft smile as you took your hand off of him, "Well I hope you have a good run today Minho." You said while trying to snap him out of whatever trance you'd unknowingly put him in.

"Thanks," Minho said. At least he didn't stutter while getting that out, but then again, he only said one word. But it was a new record nonetheless.

You greeted the other runners with a smile and a wave while Minho's feet stayed planted in front of you, unable to move.

"We'll meet you at the doors Minho." Ben said as he and the others jogged past you and him, snickering at the whole situation.

You stared at him again for another moment, expecting him to move but something in him couldn't. "You should probably catch up with them right?" You ask him, hoping that you didn't just cause the glades best runner to short-circuit just because you touched his bicep.

"Right, yeah- yeah you're right," Minho said while letting out a soft chuckle.

"Be careful alright? I'll talk to you later." You told Minho as you patted him on the back while he began to walk past you.

"Okay yeah. Talk to you later." Minho said, still very flustered about what had just happened. He was still trying to process it all because even though you had been touchy with him before, it was never like this. There was something very different about it this time. He thought about it for the rest of the day while he was running in the maze, and even when he came back and ate dinner.

While Minho was showering before heading to the bonfire, he couldn't help but wonder if you also felt it, if you also felt the same energy in the air that he felt. Or if he was just overthinking an exchange between the both of you that hadn't even lasted more than five minutes.

The truth was that he wasn't the only one whose mind kept racing back to that moment.

You couldn't stop thinking about it either and it was distracting you this entire day. You didn't know what was so different about it this time, but you could feel something shift between you and Minho during that simple exchange. You brushed it off as much as you could and decided to turn your focus on showing the new greenie around.

He seemed to have taken quite a liking to you and was practically following you around 24/7, which you didn't mind too much. He seemed like a sweet kid who was around your age, behaving toward you the same way every other boy had toward you in the glade at one point or another.

As the day continued, the bonfire began and you found a seat with a group of about ten people, the greenie being one of them. He chose the seat right next to you and after a couple drinks, he had his arm around you. In your eyes, it really wasn't that big a deal. You thought it was sweet that he was opening up so soon, and you had to admit he was pretty funny. You couldn't help but laugh at a lot of his jokes.

But Minho wasn't too big a fan of how the new guy clung to you. While everyone gathered at the bonfire he couldn't help but notice how the very obviously drunk boy, had his arm around your shoulder and it was driving him crazy. He had been hearing whispers from the other gladers about how you were going to start dating him and the mere thought of it made Minho's blood boil. Even though all the comments that had been made about you and the greenie were jokes because everyone knew you well enough to know you were just being friendly, Minho didn't know that.

You were in the middle of a conversation with the new guy and the rest of the group when you spotted Minho walking in your direction. At first, you got excited, you had been waiting to talk to Minho this whole day. But then you looked at him and noticed the stern, almost angry expression he had on his face. Your confusion only grew as he stopped right in front of you, his build towering over you as you stared back up at him.

"Hey, can we talk for a second?" Minho said through gritted teeth. The amount of anger in his voice was prominent, and you couldn't lie, it was kind of hot. Minho was not a hot-headed person, so seeing him be anything other than stoic or flustered was new for you.

"Uh sure, is everything alright?" You ask with genuine concern. You didn't know what could've gotten Minho this angry so you were relatively worried.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just- can you come with me?" Minho said quickly, and it was obvious to you that it, whatever 'it' even was, was not fine. You took Minho's hand anyway as he helped you up from your seat.

Everyone in the group was staring at you, just as confused as you were while you told them you'd be back soon. You shot the greenie a wave and you could've sworn you saw Minho roll his eyes and scoff as you did so.

Minho led you to the edge of the deadheads and stopped by a nearby tree. There was silence between the both of you and you were waiting for Minho to say something. When he didn't, you spoke instead, "So what is this all about?"

Minho crossed his arms as he began to reply, you couldn't help but notice fury in his eyes as he spoke, "I should be asking you that."

"What?" You questioned, slightly dumbfounded and slightly confused by Minho's harsh tone. He'd never spoken to you in such a way, so now you were really racking your brain trying to figure out what you could've done to piss him off so much.

"Oh don't pull that oblivious klunk with me (Y/N)." Minho sneered.

"I'm not acting oblivious, I don't know what you're talking about, seriously." You said while putting your hands up in surrender, and it was the truth, you really didn't know what he was talking about.

"I'm talking about you and the greenie. How you guys were all over each other. Are you dating him or something?" Minho spits out, venom and jealousy lacing his words.

You couldn't help but laugh as he said this but you quickly realized he was being serious. "Wait you're kidding, right? Me and the greenie? No Minho he's just a friend." You said in an attempt to reassure him.

"Well, it didn't look like you were just friends. Not by the way he had his arm around you." Minho blurted out.

"Are you getting jealous Minho?" You asked with a grin on your face. Minho stayed silent for a moment after you asked, so you spoke again, "Why would you care anyway? It's not like you like me like that or anything." Annoyance in your voice this time. Who was he to act so pissed off about it if he didn't even like you?

"Who said I didn't?" Minho questioned while staring dead at you.

Now it was your turn to be silent.

"You like me?" You said as you just stared at Minho for a moment longer, wondering if you had really heard him correctly. A sliver of hope surged through you as you thought of the possibility.

Minho quickly realized what he had just said and just stared at you. Did he really just say that? Why did he just say that? His words got stuck in his throat and he stayed quiet.

"Minho answer my question."

"Yes, okay? Yes, I like you. So what if I do? Are you going to reject me the same way you reject every other boy?" Minho asked with genuine curiosity.

Before you or he could say anything else, you kissed him.

You hadn't even realized how long you had been waiting to kiss Minho ever since you laid your eyes on him. But as your lips merged into his perfectly, it all just felt right.

Minho melted into your touch as you wrapped both of your arms around his neck and he pulled you in as he placed both of his arms around your waist. The kiss you both shared was gentle yet passionate as you fell deeper and deeper into his warm embrace.

You pulled away for a moment to look Minho in the eyes, "I like you too Minho." You said with a warm smile that almost made him pass out. Minho's heart melted as he heard those words come out of your mouth. They were what he'd dreamed you you eventually say to him, and he couldn't think of anything else to do at that moment than to kiss you again.

The kiss between the both of you deepened and only became more sloppy and desperate as if the both of you couldn't get enough of each other. You allowed his tongue to enter your mouth and taste every bit of you. You could tell that he must've had some muscle memory from his life before the maze because he definitely knew what he was doing as his tongue wrestled against yours.

Minho pushed you onto a nearby tree and moved one of his hands from your waist and to your ass. You moaned softly into his mouth as he did so and you pushed yourself into him further, which only caused Minho to harden against you.

"Oh, there you guys are. I assumed you guys got everything settled?" Newt asked as he interrupted you and Minho. You both pulled away for the second time, breathlessly, and stared at him for a moment.

"Oh yeah- everythings um, settled. I guess." Minho said while turning around to face Newt. Newt gave you a look and you just gave a thumbs up and an awkward smile back to him.

"Alright well, I just wanted to let you know (Y/N) that the greenie was wondering where you were," Newt said with a smirk while scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, well- just tell him I'm busy or something." You replied hastily. You had waited long enough to let Minho know how you felt and you wanted nothing more than to turn all of your attention back to him now. Minho looked at you and grinned, obviously very pleased with your response.

"Will do," Newt said as he began to walk away and back up to the bonfire to join everyone else. You blushed as you put your hands up to your face and buried your head into Minho's chest.

"God that was so embarrassing." You said, your words muffled in the fabric of Minho's t-shirt.

"Oh come on there's nothing to be embarrassed about. If anything it's good that that shuckin' greenie'll get the message." Minho cooed as he wrapped one arm around your back and used his other hand to stroke your hair. He planted a kiss on your forehead as you took your hands away from your face and wrapped them around Minho's waist. You looked up at him again with a goofy grin on your face, which only made Minho grin at you back, "What, what is it?" He chuckled.

"You never struck me as the jealous type." You stated while tilting your head slightly before continuing, "Not like there's anything wrong with that though."

Minho only smiled back at you and brought his lips to yours once more, holding you in his arms as if he found the one thing that he wanted to hold onto for the rest of his life.

alright yall here is yet another Minho fic

I hope you guys liked it and tysm @minhoshotharness for the request!! It was so fun to write and I hope that you liked what I did with the concept.

plzplzplzplz keep sending me these requests guys, I literally LOVE writing them

[glossykissies]

I DO I DO IDO!!!!! i love jeff he’s so 🤭🤤

seriously yall should search him up on pinterest there are so many good bts photos

okie dokie hehe… unfinished jeff winger from community fic below da cut …. not written in my usual style so i’m just dumping it here :p ♡ p.s it’s like 90% group banter 10% jeff and also reader replaces annie in this universe … sorry !

When the group first came together, no one was sure how to feel about you. Sugary sweet, skirts and dresses that made Shirley clutch her pearls at the length and Britta go on long winded rants about how you were ‘setting feminism back’. You didn’t seem to care about what anyone thought, which was admirable — and with time as the study group bonded, they grew to love you for all that you were. They even dropped the nickname ‘Princess’ on you, which had started to crop up more than your own name.

You sit happily, watching the usual banter occur around the table of the study room. “Okay you can’t just make movie references that no one gets and then look at me like I’m the idiot.” Jeff complains to Troy, leaning back carelessly in his seat— study book long abandoned on the table.

“I got it.” Abed states, turning his body in his seat to address his best friend. “Rugrats movie.” He points, and Troy rewards him with a high five.

“Seriously?” Jeff deadpans, looking around for support. “Abed watching a movie no one else on Earth cares about doesn’t surprise me, but are all of you really gonna sit there and act like you got the joke?” He accuses smugly.

“The rugrats movie is not niche. You’re just mad ‘cos you’re too old to understand the things we grew up with.” Britta leans forward with a malicious smirk. Jeff narrows his eyes, equally leaning forward at the foot of the table to rest his elbows on the sleek surface.

“Britta, the other day I watched you ask the bartender to ID you. Stop acting like you fit the bracket of the younger members of our group.”

She gasps, gearing up for another insult before you interject, doodling a heart on your notebook with pink glitter gel pen, distracted. “I’ve never seen it.”

“See, thank you.” Jeff raises a hand to gesture towards you in positive acknowledgment.

“Its an older show. Kids my age didn’t really watch that.” You shrug and his hand drops.

“Oh, right. I momentarily forgot you were born like last week and probably learnt your ABCs on an iPad. You are immediately disqualified from joining this argument.”

The conversation is broken up before it can progress into a full fledged argument, your phones text tone dinging with an adorable bird tweeting sound that made Shirley tilt her head in that motherly way and say ‘Aw.’ The group watches as your face falls, brow knitting at whatever you read.

“Whats up?” Troy questions, leaning forward.

“My dad texted me…” You respond, distracted and refusing to remove your eyes from your screen. There’s a short silence, before Jeff pipes up.

“Oh, sorry — I guess we were all waiting for you to give context without being asked. What’s wrong with your dad?” The ex-lawyer dramatises, pushing the conversation along. You shake your head, clearly moved by the whole ordeal and finally put your phone down.

“He was terrible to me growing up. You guys probably haven’t noticed but it gave me a miriad of issues I’m still working through to this day.” You bow your head humbly.

“Dont have to tell us twice, daddy issues am I right?” Pierce cuts through rudely with a joke, causing heads to whip around and glare his way.

“Pierce! She is bravely opening up about her trauma! Don’t be so insensitive!” Britta scolds before reaching across the table to rub your forearm in support, albeit coming across the slightest bit condescending.

“Tough nuts! I’ve got trauma too, when do any of you ever ask me about that?” The old man defends.

“Oh yeah? What old white dude trauma have you got that we should care about?” Troy twists his body argumentatively. Abed lifts a finger to interject.

“Pierce describes everything as trauma. They ran out of mini-pringles at the vending machine on Tuesday and he said the whole thing gave him PTSD.”

“I need my salt!” Pierce is quick to retaliate. The whole group seem to burst into meaningless argument for possibly the third time that day, and as quickly as it began your issue quickly faded into the background. Cursed with being observant, Jeff watches your sweet sullen face fall as you choose to stare at your hands instead, too burdened with your own issues to focus on the debate occurring. He sighs, knowing he must be the fixer.

“Hey, everyone shut up!” He raises his voice above the argument, the group obediently falling into silence as they always did, looking to him for the next demand. He presses his lips together reluctantly before turning to you, tilting his head sympathetically the same way you could to a puppy or a sick child. “What can we do to help?”

You glance around unsurely, stressed in a cute and doe eyed way that could only be mimicked by Disney princesses. “Oh, well… I’m not so sure. My dad said he’s coming to visit me for a few days and I just don’t know what to say to him. He’s always so mean and I never know how to defend myself, I always just go silent and take it. I’ll probably just hide when he arrives or something.”

“No, no— we don’t hide from assholes who made our lives hell. When is he coming?” Jeff shakes his head, sitting up in his seat. As much as he pretended to be aloof, he was already more invested than anyone.

“This weekend…”

“Alright,” He claps his hands decidedly. “Come over to my place tomorrow, I’m gonna coach you through dealing with this dick-for-brains. By the time I’m done with you there’s not gonna be a dad within a ten mile radius of this place that doesn’t fear the wrath of our little pink princess.” He reaches over and pets your back fondly making you straighten up in your seat, the motivated smile on your face already making Jeff feel better about the situation.

[loverboyjamespotter]

What’re your general prongsfoot head canons

hiii!!! im so sorry for the late reply ive not been online much recently!

and thank you for asking about prongsfoot hcs bc honestly i could talk about them all day lmaooo OKAY SO:

sirius has borderline personality disorder and his favourite person is james

this isnt really prongsfoot this is more james but i firmly believe he has adhd

on a similar note i definitely DEFINITELY think sirius is autistic

i think that no one truly UNDERSTOOD james like sirius. i think one of the most compelling things about prongsfoot is that james is obviously a performer. he enjoys attention and he likes being the centre of attention. however, i think at the end of the day that really is just an Image if you get what i mean? like everyone wants a part of james hes the most popular boy in school hes practically a legend like i really really feel like people underestimate the fucking FORCE OF NATURE that was james potter like he was the gryffindor chaser IN SECOND YEAR!!!!! but i feel like ... hmm this is hard to articulate but i think what i mean is sirius sees Through the facade and loves james for who he is not in spite of who he is. like in SWM when theres people in the crowd who are laughing at james' antics (along the vein of 'oh that james! what a card!') and lily telling james to stop it but i think sirius just sees the worst parts of james and loves them just as much as the good parts. i think he sees through the spoilt naivety, the arrogance, the everything to who james is as a person. and heres the really crazy thing: i really dont even think ... james KNOWS he putting on this performance for the benefit of everyone else because i think he absolutely is the most oblivious person when it comes to his feelings but sirius knows.

this links into my next big hc which is that i think BOTH sirius AND james love each other for who they are in their entirety like i think james saw sirius and adored him for everything he was.

i think theyre simultaneously the same person and polar opposites.

i think sirius because of the the fact he had the upbringing he did is hyperconscious of what hes feeling at any time so he knew he was in love with james like. within first year. but i genuinely think james didnt even realise he was in love with sirius just because he always WAS ... hes just has TERRIBLE reflection skills like that guy is sooo oblivious to his own feelings its hilarious. like hes ALSO been in love with sirius since first year he just didnt realise bc the feelings always been there.

theres this popular thing in fics and it really annoys me its like my pet peeve in fics where its like sirius only was obsessed with james bc james was his first friend or the first person that was kind to him :| i genuinely think thats just terrible analysis. firstly we KNOW andromeda and sirius were always on good terms and alphard cared for sirius too. but even if that wasnt true i genuinely dont think sirius is the kind of person to be obsessed with the first person who's nice to him. i think theres a tendency to remove sirius from his own canonical context like sirius is ... at best indifferent and at worst disinterested in ... pretty much EVERYONE. like he wouldn't just choose some random kid to obsess over. i think sirius consciously and DELIBERATELY chose james to obsess over because it was JAMES not because james HAPPENED to be the first person to be kind to sirius. also this is soo silly because if you re-read their first meeting ... JAMES ISNT EVEN NICE TO HIM LMFAOOOOO???? like hes a little shit he LITERALLY SAYS AND I QUOTE 'blimey and i thought you were alright' LIKE SIRIUS JUST SAID HIS WHOLE FAMILY ARE SLYTHERINS AND JAMES SAID THE EQUIVALENT OF 'lmfaooo your family sux' like????

this is canon but i just want to stress it more but i think the whole entire school knew james and sirius were obsessed with each other like again yes this is canon the fact 'you never saw one without the other' but i genuinely think everyone was absolutely so sick of them.

this is another popular thing in fics where it has jily being together and sirius 'moving on' ... sorry but sirius is not ever dating anyone that isnt james he is never moving on he is never trying to get past james. is that healthy? fuck no. but also prongsfoot as a dynamic is absolutely insane like it really really irritates me when fic has sirius trying to 'move on' sorry that guy is NEVER EVER going to try and get over james. ever.

another thing that is a pet peeve of mine and i realise this is now just becoming a pet peeves list but bare with me is that fic often under-emphasises how the nature of prongsfoots relationship was definitely reciprocal and by that i mean james was EQUALLY as obsessed with sirius like again to point to SWM .... it SAYS. IN THE TEXT. that harry got the feeling that james wouldnt stop being an asshole for anyone other than sirius. HARRY FEELS THAT PALPABLY BY WATCHING THEM FROM A DISTANCE!!!!!!!!!!!! but my hc is that over the summers before sirius runs away james mopes around the whole house sighing and everything because he misses sirius. like to the point where james' parents are concerned for him bc james is NOT the brooding type yet he spends a full day flat on his back glaring at the ceiling because walburga confiscated sirius' two way mirror and sirius hasnt stolen it back yet.

GOD IM SORRY THESE ARE SO LONG I HAD SO MANY MORE BUT I THOUGHT IT BEST TO CUT OFF HERE

[1pcii]

exactly!!! people dont understand that emotional intelligence is just as valid/important as book or number, strategic, culinary, technological or any other type of inteligence!

people definatly emphasis the whole brawn/muscle of the group thing with him. as if thats all he does and he isnt literally first mate and taking care of the strawhats dosnt/wouldnt fall to him (as you said) if luffy falters.

and even if someone isnt the brightest smarts wise, making fun of that just feels... ehh kinda fucked? messed up even? like alot of these traits (directional dyslexia, aversion to reading for any of the multitude of reasons out there, one track mindedness, etcetc) are common nd traits, and even in nt individuals should be treated with compassion? (im probably looking too much into it here but whatever, complaint for complianing sake or w/e). i know its a joke i knowww. but also the blorboism. its fatal.

also yess

taking this panel with me to the grave idc idc

one piece modern au mentions zoro is bad at math or actually genuinly stupid/unintelligent 143 dead 657 injured

[lautity]

1, 4, 5, 11, 15, 16, 17, 23 with lautity/holyphone for the otp ask game :3 (no pressure to do all of these btw, i'm just really curious to hear other people's opinions on them since i dont see to many lautity shippers in the wild </3)

Ask game

HEHE its totally okay you could have sent me the whole book.....im so obsessed with them rn its not even funny. i <3 my niche ship nobody else thinks about. and im so sorry for how long this is...stuck it under a cut for safety

also note many of these answers are in the context of my silly fic/AU  but u do not have to read it to understand i included context where necessary. mostly i think abt them in terms of my AU but i think most of these are canon applicable as well

1. Who most initiates PDA?

Funny question for these two. Steph is by far more comfortable with PDA and treats it very casually, but she would probably have to slow down and match Grace's pace while she's still adjusting to being visibly in a queer relationship (especially in Hatchetfield/where she risks bumping into family or people from her congregation).

I think Grace is extremely affectionate though and once she's more comfortable (or just living somewhere she's less well known) she would probably initiate at least as much as Steph, if not more. I think she would get into the habit of hand-holding every time they're outside at some point and it would just be muscle memory to grab Steph's hand when they're walking side by side.

4. How did they first meet?

In Slow they met in middle school! Grace joined in 7th grade after attending a religious primary school, Steph failed 7th grade (too many skipped classes) and was taking it for the second time when Grace got there. They don't really interact significantly until a year or two later, but they're in the same homeroom pretty much every year in school, so they're always aware of each other in passing.

5. What is their love language?

I think for Grace the thing that makes her feel most comforted is probably physical touch, but the 'above and beyond' thing for her (and what she holds as a sign of the utmost commitment, at least on her part) is quality time. She's really punctual because she feels it's the best way to show that she cares and wants to be there + she's pedantic about attending her friend's events to show her support. She's also clingy in a 'following Steph around the house' way, she just loves to have company and another person around. Especially if that person is her girlfriend (someone who wants her around. She has not experienced much of this </3)

Steph probably appreciates words of affirmation quite a lot, especially if they're well thought-out. Also enjoys quality time (though she does need Some alone time) and is usually cool without fancy going-out stuff. Prefers casual, appreciates when people make time for her and enjoys the attention of being alone with someone. I think physical touch and being touchy is like breathing to her, just second nature with her friends and especially her partner. Throwing herself across laps and using people as pillows, always bumping shoulders. Stuff like that. it's very casual to her and it's a language for her in that it's how she says 'I feel safe and comfortable around you".

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

I sort of already talked about this LOL but I think Grace is more intentionally affectionate and is more likely to initiate cuddling or kissing (once they get over the Afraid To Initiate bit of very newly-out Grace). But obviously Steph is always just touching her anyways, often unconsciously (initially this makes Grace's head explode. but she figures it out eventually) so while everything Grace does is thought out Steph is just always being touchy without realizing it because of how relaxed/comfortable she is. I think they're pretty equally matched on like volume but Grace does initiate more Big acts of affection

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

Steph has ADHD (to me.) and bad impulse control so she tends to be very spontaneous. I think a lot of the time she'll do things on a whim, even if they're risky, and say whatever comes to her mind. Grace is good at talking her into more safe activities and derailing her when she's feeling righteous and wants to pick a fight with someone twice her size over an insult to one of her friends.

Grace tends to be really unpredictable and impulsive when she's emotional at all and Steph gradually gets better at handling this and calming her down as they're together for longer. Not so much a voice of reason as a source of comfort for her.

Steph is the one online shopping and showing Grace her phone every 5 minutes just for her to go "no, we don't need another one" LOL

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

Steph and her fuckass sleep schedule from parties and arguing online vs Grace, who has never stayed up past midnight, wakes up at 6:30 AM on weekends, makes her bed every morning, never snoozes an alarm... I think even when Grace drags Steph to bed "on time" (still an hour later than she'd like) Steph is just not a morning person and loves getting to sleep in and wake up slowly. Grace eventually learns to appreciate being cozy in bed for a little bit longer, but she never really stops waking up earlier than Steph and getting tons of things done before she even stirs.

17. Who fell in love first?

Hehe. Grace fell first, Steph fell harder/faster. Grace had like... this steadily building crush she didn't know was a crush. I think it probably started when they were in a group project together and Steph kept bumping their knees together under the table. She called them friends once and Grace pretty much did the entire project to please her. And even once Steph started ignoring her in class again she remained unusually fixated on her salvation and helping her. Around Abstinence Camp (summer before sophomore year/10th grade) Steph catches on to the fact that Grace genuinely wants to help her and tries to be nicer. They get more hostile again when Steph is outed as bisexual and Grace discovers what gay people are and that she isn't supposed to like them (but she can save them!). At the point where NPMD begins (around the beginning of their senior year) Steph has not had a non-religious interaction with Grace in over a year, and she is extremely sick of it.

(Slow is an everyone lives AU that has Max sleep with Grace before most of the events of NPMD, and the Waylon prank is both revenge and blackmail so she can force him to 'admit' to lying about it, hopefully preserving her reputations + preventing it from getting back to her parents. Everyone else is in on it for the same reasons as canon, and only Steph knows that Grace slept with Max at the point of the prank)

After finding out about Grace and Max, Steph just starts kind of pitying her because she knows how vicious gossip of this nature is and how cruel people are. So she's like okay, this girl really needs a friend, I can do that for now + being friends with Steph Lauter does give you some level of social standing which she figures she can lend to Grace for awhile. And Grace is still sort of annoying at first. But seeing her passionate + happy during the prank, orchestrating everything, awakens some really long-buried feelings about the weird girl in her homeroom who always tried too hard to relate every book to God, and who had come over to her house and described every research note to Steph while she assembled their poster by herself; Steph had SpongeBob reruns playing (which Grace was apparently not allowed to watch, so she sat with her back to the television) and was mostly tuning her out. They got 100% on their poster, and Steph stopped talking to Grace when her friends started to comment on it.

She feels bad for treating Grace that way + she is genuinely letting herself know this person for the first time and finding that she likes her. Like. Genuinely finds her smart and funny and interesting. She's sort of insane under duress, but it's endearing. But Steph does not pursue people, people come to her, so she sort of brushes it into the back of her mind, because there is no world in which Grace Chasity realizes her obvious queerness before she's 30.

Once she knows Grace likes her shes giggling and kicking her feet and extremely extremely excited about everything but she is trying So Hard to be normal and not rush her. She's sort of flattered about being Grace's first girl(friend?) and really really wants to give her a good experience and treat her well (the way she wishes her first partner had treated her). She is very happy and the only thing she really wishes is that Grace would apologize less and trust her a little more.

[ineffablecolors]

hey just wondering why you think Roy reuniting w Keeley post s3 would’ve been bad for him? I sort of agree but also don’t want to bash keeley in anyway so I haven’t talked about it

Heya! Thanks for the ask and sorry you feel like you can't discuss something though I do understand why. I'll preface this by repeating something I've said before - canon did such a horrible job of holding Keeley accountable for anything and wrote her as if she could do no wrong and fandom seems to have picked that up and totally ran with it.

I do love that when reading RoyJamie fanfic, I never see Keeley bashing, as you call it, because vilifying female chatacters is such common practice in fandoms. But Ted Lasso fandom seems to swing to the other extreme where I've never even read a fic where Keeley apologises for something? And you can't even quite blame the fans, they just picked what canon put down - Keeley can do no wrong.

So, first of all, I think simply judging Keeley's actions is not bashing at all, it's just treating her the way every character BUT her is treated in both fandom and show. I think Keeley, like almost every other character, has made plenty of bad decisions and mistakes and, personally, how I react to them is a mix of how well I can relate to her and something else. Jack, for example, was a very professionally questionable decision but I completely sympathise with Keeley for it because 1) she faced consequences for her mistake even if it's never acknowledged that she made one and 2) I can relate to it! Hiring Shandy on the other hand was such a monumentally stupid decision that I could never relate to, so it just makes me annoyed with Keeley and the fact that the show treated it as her just being too sweet and wanting to give another horribly unqualified woman a chance rather than as a point towards her lack of professional skills.

Anyway!! The something else is important for my answer. As much as I love discussing my favourite shows and try to be objective, I very rarely am. Once I pick a favourite character, my opinion of almost every other character is informed by how they treat my favouriteTM. Is that fair? No. Do I do it without fail? Yes. Do I feel bad for it? Umm, no, that's my baby, nobody is allowed to be mean to them xD

And this is how we get to the Roy Kent of it all (finally! christ, this is gonna be long, sorry but also thanks!). Roy's my favourite, my baby, my grumpy, old, emotionally constipated and physically aching romantic. Roy can and has done wrong, I'd never claim otherwise. But I'd still claim he's the best chatacter and one of the best people on the show. And he's always gonna put himself last on his list of priorities.

Which is why I fully admit that I judge Keeley extra harshly when it comes to her and Roy. For brief context - I totally shipped Roy and Keeley and think they were good for each other, for the most part, in s1, I was ecstatic they were together in s2 and still shipped them like hell on my first watch (which was binged with s1!) and less and less on every consequent rewatch, part of me still wanted them to be together and then to get back together in s3 until I actually watched it all and completely changed my mind.

Shall I finally answer your question? I don't think Roy should reunite with Keeley because he gives too much of himself and she gives too little. I don't believe they are well balanced and I dont believe he'd feel loved with her again.

That WAS brief! But if you'd like more detail...

I think as sweet and good-hearted as she's portraited, Keeley is inherently a selfish person. Now, we circle back to bashing and judging. I'm doing neither. I'm myself a selfish person in many ways, that's not the worst thing to be in some regards. But I think Keeley is especially selfish in her romantic relationships and that simply does not suit someone like Roy. When paired with a selfish partner, Roy would just give and give and blame himself for not getting as much back.

I'm not saying there haven't been some great moments between Roy and Keeley, full of affection and care from Keeley, such as the scene at the end of s1. That's probably my favourite moment of theirs. But there have been some pretty shit ones too that for me outweigh the good and, more importantly, came once they settle into the relationship.

As early as their first kiss, Keeley got so annoyed and impatient, she immediately slept with Jamie. I know the show took it as an opportunity to have a kinda feminist moment but can you picture that turned around? Roy and Keeley kiss after tons of flirting and build up, and the day after Roy sleeps with a girl Keeley has a proper (however childish) feud with just cuz she told him she was busy that night. That would've never been fine. Again, I'm not saying it's wrong, I'm saying it's the response of a person who only cares about what they want and doesn't plan for the future.

Then, we have the infamous "Roy is a fridge magnet" episode which I still can't wrap my mind around so gimme a sec here. Your boyfriend is too into you, is perfect (by Keeley's own words) but not giving you the space you haven't asked for. So, instead of talking to him - don't even get me started on people writing Keeley as a character who's good as communicating - girl, where?? - you talk about it to his boss, a bunch of his coworkers and your ex who has an antagonistic relationship with him, and eventually as you're spending time together and he's trying to share one of his interests with you, you start screaming bloody murder at him about how clingy he is. Do I have that all correct? All of this would have been forgivable ofc, miscommunication happens, people aren't perfect, etc, etc, expect... forgiveness was asked by the wrong person. What on earth did Roy have to apologise for? This is the #1 example for me of that show trying so hard to make Keeley a perfect sunshine girl boss that they made 0 narrative or even logical sense. Honestly I hate that whole episode with a fiery passion.

Then we have the funeral shenanigans, which I won't even get into because I think Roy was 100% hilarious in that and Keeley was 100% overreacting (and yes, that's a heavy term to use towards a woman but here's the thing... she was). I guess this would be a good place to talk about their ILYs as well. Roy's ILYs always come with an acknowledgement of Keeley's feelings and his own fault for hurting them in anyway. Keeley's first ILY though has absolutely nothing to do with Roy. She's happy about her own success and he's celebrating her. That's it. That's the first time we see her say I love you. Don't get me wrong, I don't think Roy's aren't better but I think that just proves why he couldn't be happy with Keeley. Every time he's said ILY, it's been tinged with sadness and guilt and self-incrimination. Why would I want him to be with someone who constantly inspires those feelings in him?

This is now definitely too long so I'll try to wrap up with s3 very quickly and mainly the fact that the episode Keeley is drinking alone in the pub is one of the only ones where Keeley faces consequence for her actions (in this case, sleeping with her boss - again, not something I blame or begrudge her for but also something she should've probably considered can get her funding pulled when it ends, see: never thinking about the future (and why I don't see Keeley being successful without people like Barbara or Rebecca but thats a different topic)). Keeley responds to being made to face the music by using Roy to make herself feel better. I'm sorry but there's no other interpretation of their hook up for me. He's just read her a very heartfelt apology, ending with another guilt ridden ILY and then he was leaving. Except she chased him down, not to say it back ofc, but to use him for sex.

Thanks, I hate it.

At the end of the day, it all comes down to the fact that I think Roy was right to break up with Keeley. Not because she's not a great catch and not because there was anything wrong with her being successful or needing time for herself but because they're not right for each other. Roy is too selfless and ready to blame himself for everything and Keeley is too focused on herself and ready to take advantage of that.

Roy is the kind of romantic that would tell his cabbie to date his wife and compose a playlist for the girlfriend who treated him horribly yesterday. He's the kind of guy that's had to bottle up all his emotions forever and never talks about himself with people and has had his fucking watch stolen by his fucking hook ups. He deserves someone *cough*Jamie*cough* who is absolutely obsessed with him! Who will appreciate the things he does for them and the time he spends with them rather than take them for granted at best and be annoyed at worst. Who will make him feel like he's been struck by lightning! He deserve someone who cares about his feeling and frankly, in season 3 at least, I don't think that's Keeley or should be again.

[kedreeva]

Dude, can i just unload on you a second? Sorry in advance.

I wrote a fic and i worked really hard on it and its getting kudos! And i am so grateful, but it isnt really getting comments and so i feel really deflated and demotivated. I guess maybe people didnt connect with it emotionally, idk. Its a genuine bummer.

I dont have a beta, i dont have fandom friends and i guess ive hit the limitations of my writing ability. i'm not sure i'm going to bother to write again. I feel really sad about it and i guess i just wanted to tell someone. Even if i'm saying it anonymously to a stranger.

Thank you for letting me vent also sorry for using you to vent. I hope you have a lovely day ♥️

I get the feeling. Kudos are great but completely lack context, and going back to re-read a list of names is just not as exciting and motivating as reading even a few nice words about your writing. It's also hard to be motivated to share if it feels like it's not actually doing anything for someone else, since the point of sharing is generally for the interaction of doing so.

All I can say is that a LOT of things can affect whether a fic gets seen or not, including when you post it, and how you "advertise" for it. Sometimes it just doesn't find the right eyes. Sometimes it doesn't hit at the right time for the right eyes. But, if you keep going, you'll find an audience that suits you, that enjoys your writing and says so. Sometimes you'll get people who come back years later and say something. Give it time, keep going, and if you have to, write a couple of stories just for yourself without sharing. It's nice to be the sole target audience, on occasion.

[yukipri]

hi i hate to be a bother but i love your fic but i cant get more than a dozen or so chapters in bc i keep getting horrible anxiety about how the "present" time is ready to explode and i cant read longfic if it ends badly, could you say if the "present" time has a good resolution? no pressure at all, if you dont want to do that ill just wait for the return to the "present" and get the spoilers from my friends reading it

Thanks for liking my fic! Even if you're only able to get through part of it ^ ^;

So, hmm. I'm going to do my best to answer your question. I hope you understand that I don't feel comfortable (or frankly, capable) of telling you how the fic ends, as we are very very far away from that still (plus, I'm writing the fic for a reason!).

I can say that I personally do not consider the present "ready to explode" in any way. It is, in my opinion, the calmest time that the clones have ever experienced in the short, 13 years of their existence. Sure there's a lot going on, but for the very first time, they are in control of their own fate, and mostly have the upper hand. Is Sidious still out there? Yes. But Sidious is just as confused as, well, Obi-Wan right now, and he is actively on the run, which is more than can be said of any point we've seen of him in canon. Are there other threats too? Of course, but again, for once the clones are able to choose how to act without hiding. If anything, it's post-explosion, the explosion being the Override.

Why do the clones feel so in control? Well, that has to do a lot with the actual mechanics and process of the Override, which we are piecing together in the past.

It's true that Obi-Wan is a bit alarmed and very confused because he doesn't know what's going on. But he'll be alright, because the clones are, again, very calm and in control, and he'll take his cues from them. One of his purposes in the present is to be the audience lens through which new developments are revealed, but most of these things are not new or alarming to the clones, and they are the ones this all primarily affects. Will the clones tell Obi-Wan everything immediately? Of course not. But again, one of the purposes of writing this story non-chronologically and going into the past is so that you, the reader, can understand what's going on, and when the clones choose to share something with Obi-Wan, know the full context of that. Either way, Obi-Wan is a side character and not the primary focus in this story!

While there will be developments and action in the present eventually, right now it's far more a time of reflection, at least for the clones. There is going to be a lot of coming to terms with the past, personal reflection on identity, culture, freedom, the Republic, and the future of their new home. There is going to be more exploration of their life, and lots of politics and what it means to run a people that is no longer under subjugation. There is going to be following up on stuff from the war. There is going to be a significant amount of angst. However, nothing will "explode" for a very, very long time—we don't yet have enough context for that.

In comparison, I consider much of the "past" to be lighter, because sure it covers the war which is dark, but it's also familiar to us via canon media, except there's now the undercurrent of knowledge of all these networks and safety measures that exist, as well as new tools that Jango is actively working on. So it's bad, but we know it's not as bad. There's also just a lot more humor, since everybody (especially Jango) is still figuring things out! In the present, we kinda see the polished version after they become pros ^ ^;

We should be returning to the present in a few chapters (no clue how long those chapters will take), but a fair warning that it will be written with the assumption that you have read all previous chapters. Skipping all of the past will probably mean that a lot of it won't make sense, and I'm sorry, but I won't apologize for that, nor will I explain it when it's explained in the fic! The past bits do exist for a reason! And not just the events, but the thought processes that the characters had in the past will affect their present.

Likewise, we won't just stay in the present once we're back; after a while, we'll return to the past again, and probably eventually jump back to the present, etc. That's just how this story works.

Again, I'd rather not comment too much on the actual ending but, I do not consider this story a tragedy. It's not as simple as a fix-it either, and there's plenty of angst along the way, but I don't think you need to worry about it being a horrible conclusion.

I hope this answers your question! And I hope I didn't spoil myself too badly. Everything above that is not yet written is subject to change, because I do not want to limit my writing to what I said in an ask response, but I think this is a decent idea of what to expect.

I'm not here to tell you how (or even if!) to read my story, but yeah, the past is essential, because the present would not exist without it.

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

[cmncisspnandmore]

I just need to tell you about this amazing little writer,@cordeliawhohung.

I stumbled across this account by total accident okay? Like 100% had no intention of reading the fanfictions she wrote for. I had only ever heard of Call Of Duty from my husbands late night gaming escapades. But yet, i took a chance, I googled "Simon Riley" and was like "oh okay, bet, military man who wears a skull mask. Lets give it a try," So i did.

I read her fanfiction series called Soft Spot, with basically ZERO context. I googled more in the hour it took me to read her work than ive ever googled in my life. But i was NOT dissapointed. Did i have to reread scenes to figure out who was talking because i was clueless on their names? yes. Did it discourage me one bit? no.

BECAUSE. this girls writing is something else. it captivates you, throws you right into being the main character which is EXACTLY what you're looking for when you read these things. Without fail Core had me hooked. So i did the thing that most anyone does, I left a little ask/message for her. Explaining how this piece of UNPAID, UNOWED work left me on the edge of my seat. How the wrods jumped off the page to try to become reality. Because thats what they did.

And this percious little bean, offered to message me about the characters, to help me understand the things i didnt. She not only eagerly, but kindly informed me of the beautiful characters of Call of Duty Modern Warefare 2, but she also showed me how beautiful her very soul is.

She became one of those people i wanted to talk to all the time. (I probably annoy her with how much i message her, and Core i am sorry, but i cant help it.) We started talking more regularly, and in the few weeks we have been talking, i've come to consider her one of my friends.

Although we dont get to talk a lot, due to her work, time differences and life just being hard. ANY time i see her username pop up in my notifications im thrilled.

I could go on for hours about her, i should. Because there are so many amaizng things i could say about her.

Her writing is next level, if we could all legally publish fanfiction without the whole legal rights thing, Core's story "Soft Spot" would be a best seller. I firmly believe that she would be NYC Best Selling Author her first year. Her way of writing hooks you from the first few words. I honestly get a little jealous of how well she writes, but she was quick to tell me that if we all wrote the same then the world would be boring. Which is true.

So to conclude this post. If you havent, check her out. send her an ask, and get to know the amazing person who runs @cordeliawhohung. You won't regret it.

Also be kind to your fanfiction writers, they do this without pay. For YOUR entertainment. Reblog, like, share, interact with them. They write 100+k fics because they love the same characters as you. They write the works that some people need, that they crave, all on their own time. Be appreciatve and understanding when they do upload and when they can't. They're humans too. Be kind to them. Dont demand things from them.

Core, i appreciate you. I care for you. I will agressively love you from hundreds of miles away. Take care of you, take whatever time you need. And NEVER apologize to anyone for feelings like you aren't doing enough. Because just being you, babes, thats enough.

[skloomdumpster]

fic asks

Thank you @leadingrebel and @dr-lizortecho for tagging me!

·

How many works do you have on ao3? Between all my accounts I have 212 fics.

What’s your total ao3 word count? In skloomdumpster is 759,511 but in total of all my accounts is 909,749

What fandoms do you write for? Fate: The Winx Saga, Supernatural, Daisy Jones & The Six, Fast & Furious, Teen Wolf, Harry Potter, MCU, The Vampire Diaries, The Order (not anymore for the tiny ones)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ABCDEF-U

You, Me and The Brickwall Between Us

On The Down Low

3 AM

Bait

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Nope, I always wanna respond but then I get the Anxiety and then too much time passed so answering now would be weird and rinse repeat for every single comment.

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

If we're talking just ending, then I'd say either Voicemail, Treacherous Nature or Meeting The Parents.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I write a lot of romcoms, so Not Mad About It, you make it look easy, On the down low

Do you get hate on fics? Nope, but sometimes I get unsolicited criticism.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes and idk what kind? Kinky stuff, love-making, hate fucking, bad lame cringy sex, you name it, I've written.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've written a Fast&Furious/SPN crossover oneshot that I really liked and a The Vampire Diaries/Teen Wolf one shot too, but I dont write crossovers anymore and it has to be really well set up for me to read one.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! And once they translated it from portuguese-br to portuguese-pt and that was very fun to follow.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep, plenty.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Skloom

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Anything Bloom comes to mind, because I just can't find the motivation. Between The Lines because I doubt anyone would be interested and I made my peace with it long ago. Cabin Fever because canon kinda fucked me sideways with this and I'm very into sticking to the canon.

What are your writing strengths?

Channeling characters motivations and voices. Writing the body language of characters.

What are your writing weaknesses? Writing group scenes, descriptions of mundane activities, graphic whump without falling into melodrama, making the world my characters are in feel real and not like a novela.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? All for it, and I dont think a translation is even necessary right next to it, if the context is strong enough to give us the understanding. Add the full translation at the end notes though.

First fandom you wrote for?

Narnia, I think. I wanna say Harry Potter, but I vaguely remember writing Chronicles of Narnia fanfic at recess in my little notebook.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

Toss up between: The Soft Animal of Your Body, A Merry Fucking Life, How The Night Changes, Once Broken and The Burned One

(sorry that's too many, but I do have 200 works let me be greedy)

[ancientcity]

i loved reading your rpf data! it's an interesting topic for sure and i myself have neutral-complicated feelings towards it, mostly because i both struggle to understand the reasoning behind shipping rpf and what actually defines rpf.

i think the only time i have ever shipped rpf was with H20Vanoss and DreamNotFound but it was still in a like. "au" way where i knew the two of their real life relationships were none of my business and it didnt matter to me what their relationships actually were. like every fic i read of "rpf" was still not the real person to me. it was still just a character, even if it was based on the real person and set in a "real life" setting.

is that how most people view rpf? i feel like, to me, every fictional writing turns any "real person" in "real person fiction" automatically into a character (because it's fiction and not nonfiction).

but at the same time, i dont understand shipping the real actual people outside of a fanfic setting. like genuinely shipping real people with real human faces and real lives. is it like how people ship celebrities or their friends? i dont do either of that, partially because, again, none of my business, but also i feel like the fact that i'm aroace completely blinds me to understanding the appeal

Thank you for reading it! There's definitely things I could've expanded on, but I honestly just wanted to get it out there.

Regarding the question of "the definition of RPF", some people responded something like "fan content about the real people", without the nuance of some other answers, like "fiction about the real people", where they'd expand upon what "fiction" means to them. (note: these are approximations of the responses)

One response caught my eye while I was scrolling through the spreadsheet again:

A fanwork that is made about real people, drawing on knowledge audiences have of those real life people.

I think this is very concise, to the point, and encapsulates most of the answers people wrote. If I were to use this as an example for another survey, the only thing I'd change would be that we... don't really know these people, so how can we make fanwork about real people? I might write something like this instead:

A fanwork that's inspired by the "personas" of real people, drawing on knowledge audiences have of their lives.

(I do genuinely love the original, it just wouldn't quite work in context of defining the concept for another survey! I wanted to add a little bit of other responses to it, especially those who mention "personas". If anyone has any notes on this definition, please do share)

But to answer your question of "is that how most people view rpf?":

Just eyeballing it, no more graphs right now (it's a lot of data to sort through), most people who are neutral or positive towards rpf tend to think this way, yes. However, those who dislike it tend to think it's not that, and is about the real people.

And to answer your question of "is it like how people ship celebrities or their friends?":

I'd say yes, but there's a big difference between shipping celebrities and shipping your friends. Celebrities are most likely not going to see what you've made. Your friends are more likely to! CCs exist in between celebrities and friends, as a "yeah that twitch streamer I'm able to chat with" or "Mumbo replied to one of my comments!" or even "Cherrifire liked my post!". They're generally more connected with their community in a way that big celebrities aren't? (I could be wrong, I hadn't ventured too far into celebrity rpf for the essay)

Sorry for rambling so much! I really appreciated the thought you put into this ask, and I wanted to return it :)