#they go through so much on that show but at no point do they sail between the Symplegades lmao

[greenerteacups]

oooh please someday tell us what you think of GOT

oh, no, it's my fatal weakness! it's [checks notes] literally just the bare modicum of temptation! okay you got me.

SO. in order to tell what's wrong with game of thrones you kind of have to have read the books, because the books are the reason the show goes off the rails. i actually blame the showrunners relatively little in proportion to GRRM for how bad the show was (which I'm not gonna rehash here because if you're interested in GOT in any capacity you've already seen that horse flogged to death). people debate when GOT "got bad" in terms of writing, but regardless of when you think it dropped off, everyone agrees the quality declined sharply in season 8, and to a certain extent, season 7. these are the seasons that are more or less entirely spun from whole cloth, because season 7 marks the beginning of what will, if we ever see it, be the Winds of Winter storyline. it's the first part that isn't based on a book by George R.R. Martin. it's said that he gave the showrunners plot outlines, but we don't know how detailed they were, or how much the writers diverged from the blueprint — and honestly, considering the cumulative changes made to the story by that point, some stark divergence would have been required. (there's a reason for this. i'll get there in a sec.)

so far, i'm not saying anything all that original. a lot of people recognized how bad the show got as soon as they ran out of Book to adapt. (I think it's kind of weird that they agreed to make a show about an unfinished series in the first place — did GRRM figure that this was his one shot at a really good HBO adaptation, and forego misgivings about his ability to write two full books in however many years it took to adapt? did he think they would wait for him? did he not care that the series would eventually spoil his magnum opus, which he's spent the last three decades of his life writing? perplexing.) but the more interesting question is why the show got bad once it ran out of Book, because in my mind, that's not a given. a lot of great shows depart from the books they were based on. fanfiction does exactly that, all the time! if you have good writers who understand the characters they're working with, departure means a different story, not a worse one. now, the natural reply would be to say that the writers of GOT just aren't good, or at least aren't good at the things that make for great television, and that's why they needed the books as a structure, but I don't think that's true or fair, either. books and television are very different things. the pacing of a book is totally different from the pacing of a television show, and even an episodic book like ASOIAF is going to need a lot of work before it's remotely watchable as a series. bad writers cannot make great series of television, regardless of how good their source material is. sure, they didn't invent the characters of tyrion lannister and daenerys targaryen, but they sure as hell understood story structure well enough to write a damn compelling season of TV about them!

so but then: what gives? i actually do think it's a problem with the books! the show starts out as very faithful to the early books (namely, A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings) to the point that most plotlines are copied beat-for-beat. the story is constructed a little differently, and it's definitely condensed, but the meat is still there. and not surprisingly, the early books in ASOIAF are very tightly written. for how long they are, you wouldn't expect it, but on every page of those books, the plot is racing. you can practically watch george trying to beat the fucking clock. and he does! useful context here is that he originally thought GOT was going to be a trilogy, and so the scope of most threads in the first book or two would have been much smaller. it also helps that the first three books are in some respects self-contained stories. the first book is a mystery, the second and third are espionage and war dramas — and they're kept tight in order to serve those respective plots.

the trouble begins with A Feast for Crows, and arguably A Storm of Swords, because GRRM starts multiplying plotlines and treating the series as a story, rather than each individual book. he also massively underestimated the number of pages it would take him to get through certain plot beats — an assumption whose foundation is unclear, because from a reader's standpoint, there is a fucke tonne of shit in Feast and Dance that's spurious. I'm not talking about Brienne's Riverlands storyline (which I adore thematically but speaking honestly should have been its own novella, not a part of Feast proper). I'm talking about whole chapters where Tyrion is sitting on his ass in the river, just talking to people. (will I eat crow about this if these pay off in hugely satisfying ways in Winds or Dream? oh, totally. my brothers, i will gorge myself on sweet sweet corvid. i will wear a dunce cap in the square, and gleefully, if these turn out to not have been wastes of time. the fact that i am writing this means i am willing to stake a non-negligible amount of pride on the prediction that that will not happen). I'm talking about scenes where the characters stare at each other and talk idly about things that have already happened while the author describes things we already have seen in excruciating detail. i'm talking about threads that, while forgivable in a different novel, are unforgivable in this one, because you are neglecting your main characters and their story. and don't tell me you think that a day-by-day account tyrion's river cruise is necessary to telling his story, because in the count of monte cristo, the main guy disappears for nine years and comes hurtling back into the story as a vengeful aristocrat! and while time jumps like that don't work for everything, they certainly do work if what you're talking about isn't a major story thread!

now put aside whether or not all these meandering, unconcluded threads are enjoyable to read (as, in fairness, they often are!). think about them as if you're a tv showrunner. these bad boys are your worst nightmare. because while you know the author put them in for a reason, you haven't read the conclusion to the arc, so you don't know what that reason is. and even if the author tells you in broad strokes how things are going to end for any particular character (and this is a big "if," because GRRM's whole style is that he lets plots "develop as he goes," so I'm not actually convinced that he does have endings written out for most major characters), that still doesn't help you get them from point A (meandering storyline) to point B (actual conclusion). oh, and by the way, you have under a year to write this full season of television, while GRRM has been thinking about how to end the books for at least 10. all of this means you have to basically call an audible on whether or not certain arcs are going to pay off, and, if they are, whether they make for good television, and hence are worth writing. and you have to do that for every. single. unfinished. story. in the books.

here's an example: in the books, Quentin Martell goes on a quest to marry Daenerys and gain a dragon. many chapters are spent detailing this quest. spoiler alert: he fails, and he gets charbroiled by dragons. GRRM includes this plot to set up the actions of House Martell in Winds, but the problem is that we don't know what House Martell does in Winds, because (see above) the book DNE. So, although we can reliably bet that the showrunners understand (1) Daenerys is coming to Westeros with her 3 fantasy nukes, and (2) at some point they're gonna have to deal with the invasion of frozombies from Canada, that DOESN'T mean they necessarily know exactly what's going to happen to Dorne, or House Martell. i mean, fuck! we don't even know if Martin knows what's going to happen to Dorne or House Martell, because he's said he's the kind of writer who doesn't set shit out beforehand! so for every "Cersei defaults on millions of dragons in loans from the notorious Bank of Nobody Fucks With Us, assumes this will have no repercussions for her reign or Westerosi politics in general" plotline — which might as well have a big glaring THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT stamp on top of the chapter heading — you have Arianne Martell trying to do a coup/parent trap switcheroo with Myrcella, or Euron the Goffick Antichrist, or Faegon Targaryen and JonCon preparing a Blackfyre restoration, or anything else that might pan out — but might not! And while that uncertainty about what's important to the "overall story" might be a realistic way of depicting human beings in a world ruled by chance and not Destiny, it makes for much better reading than viewing, because Game of Thrones as a fantasy television series was based on the first three books, which are much more traditional "there is a plot and main characters and you can generally tell who they are" kind of book. I see Feast and Dance as a kind of soft reboot for the series in this respect, because they recenter the story around a much larger cast and cast a much broader net in terms of which characters "deserve" narrative attention.

but if you're making a season of television, you can't do that, because you've already set up the basic premise and pacing of your story, and you can't suddenly pivot into a long-form tone poem about the horrors of war. so you have to cut something. but what are you gonna cut? bear in mind that you can't just Forget About Dorne, or the Iron Islands, or the Vale, or the North, or pretty much any region of the story, because it's all interconnected, but to fit in everything from the books would require pacing of the sort that no reasonable audience would ever tolerate. and bear in mind that the later books sprout a lot more of these baby-plots that could go somewhere, but also might end up being secondary or tertiary to the "main story," which, at the end of the day, is about dragons and ice zombies and the rot at the heart of the feudal power system glorified in classical fantasy. that's the story that you as the showrunner absolutely must give them an end to, and that's the story that should be your priority 1.

so you do a hack and slash job, and you mortar over whatever you cut out with storylines that you cook up yourself, but you can't go too far afield, because you still need all the characters more or less in place for the final showdown. so you pinch here and push credulity there, and you do your best to put the characters in more or less the same place they would have been if you kept the original, but on a shorter timeframe. and is it as good as the first seasons? of course not! because the material that you have is not suited to TV like the first seasons are. and not only that, but you are now working with source material that is actively fighting your attempt to constrain a linear and well-paced narrative on it. the text that you're working with changed structure when you weren't looking, and now you have to find some way to shanghai this new sprawling behemoth of a Thing into a television show. oh, and by the way, don't think that the (living) author of the source material will be any help with this, because even though he's got years of experience working in television writing, he doesn't actually know how all of these threads will tie together, which is possibly the reason that the next book has taken over 8 years (now 13 and counting) to write. oh and also, your showrunners are sick of this (in fairness, very difficult) job and they want to go write for star wars instead, so they've refused the extra time the studio offered them for pre-production and pushed through a bunch of first-draft scripts, creating a crunch culture of the type that spawns entirely avoidable mistakes, like, say, some poor set designer leaving a starbucks cup in frame.

anyway, that's what I think went wrong with game of thrones.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

(not rebloggable as I want to hear from my mutuals and followers specifically but please add extra details / nuance / hairline status in replies!)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗘

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt are polar opposites.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @lightsgore

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt was not an extroverted person. Unsurprisingly, he was a quieter, more reserved guy who liked to have his own space and took his own time to say what he wanted if he was asked to do so. His mood would change drastically if he was forced to talk when or with whoever he didn't want to.

Y/N, on the other hand, looked like a little ball of light that wouldn't stay still. She had a habit of talking a lot in a short space of time, uttering words until she was out of breath. In addition to always seeming to be in a good mood, a smile decorating her face like a permanent tattoo. Energetic was the word that defined her.

Therefore, when she and Matt revealed their relationship to the public, many fans didn't understand the origin of their love, as they were very different, literally polar opposites.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"... Stop! Stop protecting your insecurities because you know you have an ass haircut, so you're projecting what could possibly happen to me! At least I'm willing to take that change." Nick screamed next to Y/N, moving his arms comically in exaggerated despair.

Chris laughed loudly at his speech, leaning his back against the car door from the passenger seat so that he could have a better view of the back. Matt smiled as he shook his head, watching them in the rearview mirror.

Y/N quickly nodded her head, her eyes wide as she raised her hands, showing that she wanted to initiate her own opinion on the matter.

"Exactly! You only try to diminish others because you are insecure about yourself. It's impossible to be friends with people like that. They are always trying to diminish someone, saying absurd things that cause so much discomfort." She spoke quickly, gesturing with her hands as her eyes darted between Nick and the rearview mirror, or rather, Matt's blue eyes.

Matt watched her with eyes full of love and affection, nodding his head in agreement to what she was saying.

"They're always talking bad about someone, have you noticed?" Y/N turned to face the blonde next to her, pointing her right index finger towards him, who hummed.

"Yes, exactly!" Nick shouted, slamming his hands against the back of Chris's seat, earning an angry shout from the boy.

"People can only give what they have inside themselves." Y/N finished her train of thought, shrugging as she licked her lips, wetting them.

Matt quickly reached for the bottle of his own tea in the cup holder between the front seats, opening the lid and turning his upper body towards the back, silently offering the drink to his girlfriend. She smiled big, sending a wink as a "thank you" before taking the bottle.

"It's good to have Y/N in a video with us. She speaks for both of them." Chris commented briefly, pointing to Y/N and Matt, letting out a hysterical laugh when he saw Matt rolling his eyes - but still not denying anything.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt was fast asleep. His head buried in the white pillow, and his body curled up like a burrito around the fluffy duvet. His mouth was half open, low snores escaping from between his lips. His eyelids trembled slightly, showing that his mind was sailing through dream land.

Y/N slowly opened the door with her elbow, her hands occupied by a wooden tray that held a simple but nutritious breakfast for two. The girl had a big smile decorating her face as she walked with light steps towards the bed.

She placed the tray on the closest bedside table in one quick movement before going to the windows, opening the black-out curtains, allowing the sunlight to illuminate the room completely.

A grumbling sound was heard from the bed, Matt lifting the duvet to the top of his head, still half asleep. Y/N smiled at his reaction, quickly walking to the bed, kneeling on the mattress and pulling the blanket off the boy, laying her chest on her boyfriend's bare one, bringing her face closer to his.

"Good morning, my love." She murmured against his cheek, sealing her lips over his skin repeatedly.

Matt grumbled again, his brow furrowing in false anger but pushing his face against hers lightly, enjoying the feeling of being showered in affection by his girlfriend.

"Come on baby, wake up!" Y/N asked a few seconds later - after seeing his eyes closing again -, her fingers pulling Matt's eyebrows up slightly, watching him forcefully open his blue orbs.

Her laughter echoed through the room as the boy pretended to go bite her, a smile spreading across his face instantly.

"It's such a beautiful day outside. I thought we'd have a picnic. Or we could go to that golf park. Oh oh oh, or we could cook that blackberry pie you wanted. We could also-" Her words came quickly, excitement evident in her voice.

Matt's sleepy brain took a few minutes to process what his girlfriend was saying, his head just nodding in agreement without even knowing what he was agreeing to.

"Can we?" Y/N's question caught his attention. Matt only opened his right eye, looking at her for a few seconds, trying to search in his mind what she was asking him to do without achieving any results.

Matt didn't understand how Y/N woke up with so much energy, while he needed at least 20 minutes to really feel alive.

"Yeah, sure." The brunette mentally shrugged his shoulders. She wouldn't have asked him to do something risky to their lives, so it was okay for him to accept it without knowing what it was. Right?

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N knocked twice on the door of her shared room with Matt, the sound almost imperceptible. She turned the handle and opened it, entering the room slowly.

The sound of loud music escaped the brunette's headphones, which rested against his ears. The boy was sitting in his gaming chair, and his upper body bent slightly forward as his hands worked on the keyboard, probably answering emails sent to the Sturniolo Triplets inbox.

The girl walked with light and quick steps towards her boyfriend, a small smile on her face in excitement. She gently touched his right shoulder, alerting him to her presence.

Matt looked up, his eyes instantly brightening as he noticed Y/N there. His hands pushed the headphone back - leaving it hanging around his neck - while his feet moved on the floor, turning the chair so that he was facing her.

"Babe, it's raining." Y/N quickly said, without even waiting for him to talk.

Matt frowned, his hands moving up to her hips, lightly squeezing the covered area.

"Yeah, I know, honey." He nodded, confused as to why she would be telling him the obvious, the sound of heavy raindrops hitting the windows from outside filled the room.

"Can we dance in the rain? Please, please, please?" Y/N clasped her hands in front of her body in a sign of prayer, pleading with her eyes.

Matt raised his eyebrows, the thought of getting completely wet with the freezing rain made him shiver, his mind already imagining his clothes sticking to his skin.

He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily.

"What I wouldn't do for you?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"What do you guys want?" Madi asked as she stood up from her seat at the table on the fast food restaurant, ready to place the triplets' and Y/N's orders besides her own.

Nick quickly said what he wanted without taking his eyes off his phone, choosing the photos that he would put in that Friday's photo dump. Chris mumbled his order, resting his left cheek on his hand - which was supported on the table by his elbow -, his eyes focused on the digital menu on his own phone.

Madi nodded to the two before turning to Matt and Y/N, waiting for them to say what they wanted.

"For me, it's just going to be a cheeseburger and a Diet Coke. And Matt's going to have a double cheeseburger and a root beer." Y/N counted on her fingers as she said each food, watching Madi nod when she finished. "Thank you, Madi." She blew the brunette an air kiss.

Matt pressed his lips to the top of Y/N's head lightly before pulling her to rest the back of her shoulder against his chest.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"No, Chris, I don't want a blueberry donut." Matt rolled his eyes, huffing as he leaned his hips against the table, his arms crossed.

"You're hungry, and it's the only thing we have right now, Matt." Chris rolled his eyes back, exchanging looks with Nate, who smiled, amused by his reaction.

"What happened to you today? Did you wake up with the wrong foot?" Nick asked, his tone full of annoyance, wrinkling his nose.

"Why don't you shut-" Matt's sentence was interrupted by Y/N entering the kitchen, humming a Taylor Swift song under her breath.

"Oh, hi guys! Good morning." Y/N smiled brightly at the four of them, her eyes shining as she met Matt's, approaching him with quick steps - throwing smiles towards Chris, Nick, and Nate as she passed them. "Hi baby." She rose on her tiptoes, sealing his lips in a quick kiss.

A smile automatically grew on Matt's face, his eyes taking on a lovestruck look, all the anger he felt vanishing.

"Did you eat? I didn't see you eating breakfast earlier. You must be hungry." She asked, still facing him, her brow furrowed in concern as her right hand rested lightly on Matt's stomach, stroking the covered skin.

"No, baby. There's nothing interesting here." The boy sighed dramatically, ignoring his brothers' murmurs of disgust.

"We still have blueberry donuts, honey. There are some left over from the video you three made yesterday." Y/N pointed to the counter, where the box of donuts sat next to the stove. "You liked them, right?" She moved slightly away from Matt, reaching out and taking one before handing it to the boy.

Matt instantly smiled, taking the sweet from Y/N's hands with his right one and bringing it to his mouth, biting off a small piece. His left hand rested on Y/N's hip, caressing the area.

"It doesn't even look like he just-" Nick began his sentence, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Thank you, my love." Matt cut Nick off, sending a glare in his direction over Y/N's right shoulder before opening a big smile to her, biting off another piece.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Hi, good afternoon! How are you?" Y/N greeted the McDonald's attendant, a big smile lighting up her face, as her eyes went to the board where the menu was displayed, mentally confirming what she was going to order.

The attendant smiled back quickly, her heart warming at finally being able to have a kind costumer who wasn't in a bad mood.

"Good afternoon! I'm great, thank you." She nodded momentarily, placing her fingers on the computer screen, ready to select the order. "What can I do for you today?" Her eyes went from Y/N to Matt, who was standing behind the girl.

His hands rested in the front pocket of the hoodie that covered his upper body, while an awkward smile spread across his face, nodding briefly.

Y/N started ordering calmly, including Chris and Nick's orders that she had already memorized - even though they both said they didn't want anything, she knew that Nick would end up biting a peace of her burger and Chris would steal Matt's fries -, giving the attendant time to select everything without rushing.

"Is that all for today?"

"Yes, that's all." Y/N confirmed, taking Matt's wallet out of her purse and taking out her card, quickly paying for the order. "Thank you so much. Have a nice day!"

Matt quickly mumbled a "thank you" before intertwining his fingers with Y/N's, allowing her to pull him toward a table.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Yes, they were polar opposites, but Matt and Y/N showed every day that opposites really do attract each other.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Charmed in Monte Carlo

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: During a solo vacation to Monaco, Y/n's evening at the Monte Carlo Casino takes an unexpected turn when a mysterious flirtation leads to a charming and playful encounter

______________________________________________________________

Y/n had been planning this solo trip to Monaco for years. No one had ever been available to join her, but this time, she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She booked the trip, packed her suitcase with the finest summer outfits, and hopped on a plane to the luxurious city she had long dreamed of.

When she arrived, the bright Mediterranean sun greeted her, casting a golden hue over the pristine streets and sparkling water. Y/n immediately felt at peace, like she’d made the right decision to come here on her own. The first few days passed in a blissful blur of exploration. She strolled through Monaco's elegant boulevards, shopped at chic boutiques, dined in gourmet restaurants, and sat at sun-soaked cafés, content to people-watch as life unfolded around her.

Each café stop became its own little adventure. She sipped espresso in Le Café de Paris while tourists flocked to the nearby casino, and at a quieter spot near Port Hercules, she watched as yachts sailed in, glittering against the sapphire waters. She couldn’t help but imagine the lives of the people who owned them—what their stories were, how they spent their days. There was something about Monaco, the intersection of old-world charm and modern luxury, that felt intoxicating.

On her fourth evening in Monaco, she decided to visit the famous Monte Carlo Casino, the ultimate symbol of the city’s elegance and charm. This was the part of the trip she had been most excited about. She wanted to experience the casino’s history, glamour, and its opulence firsthand, even if she wasn’t much of a gambler.

Dressed in a sleek, fitted black dress with a plunging neckline that showed off just enough to be intriguing, she felt a surge of confidence. She paired it with strappy heels and a bold red lip, knowing she looked good but not caring if anyone else noticed. This trip was for her, after all.

The casino’s entrance was grand, with an air of exclusivity, but Y/n walked in as if she belonged there. Inside, the crystal chandeliers sparkled like diamonds, and the floor was abuzz with the sound of laughter, the clatter of chips, and the whirl of roulette wheels. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat for a moment, taking in the sight of it all. The grandeur was even more overwhelming than she had imagined.

Not wanting to jump straight into the gaming tables, she headed to the bar and ordered a cocktail—a French 75 to match the elegance of the night. She found a spot by the side, leaning against a pillar, the perfect vantage point to indulge in her favorite pastime: people-watching. From her spot, she observed glamorous couples dressed to the nines, elegant women draped in couture, and men in sharp tuxedos throwing around bets like they were nothing. It was fascinating.

"Looks like someone’s lost in thought," a smooth, amused voice said from behind her, startling her slightly. She didn’t turn around, deciding to play along.

"Is it that obvious?" she replied, taking another sip of her drink, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

"Only because you’re doing that classic lean against the pillar, drink in hand, gazing out like you’re in a Bond film," the voice continued, warm and teasing. "All you’re missing is a tuxedoed guy with a bad poker hand."

Y/n chuckled, keeping her gaze fixed ahead. "Are you volunteering for the role?"

There was a brief pause, then the man behind her laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "Not unless you’re looking for someone to dramatically lose all his money at blackjack. Though, I’m better company than most Bond villains."

"Confident, aren’t we?" she mused, entertained by his playful banter but still not turning to face him.

"Confidence is key, or so they say," he responded smoothly. "Besides, I couldn’t help but notice you standing here, looking like you belong in a movie yourself."

Y/n raised her glass to her lips, hiding her smile. Whoever this was, he was good—too good. The kind of flirtation that felt practiced but was enjoyable nonetheless. "A movie, huh? Does that mean you’re the mysterious stranger who makes me an offer I can’t refuse?"

"Something like that," the voice agreed, now sounding closer, almost as if he’d shifted behind her. "Though, I’d settle for a laugh and your company over a drink."

"Well, you’ve managed to get me to laugh already," Y/n replied, feeling a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with her drink. She glanced sideways but still didn’t turn around, enjoying the anonymity of their conversation.

"I’d call that a win," he said, clearly smiling now. "Do I get a bonus if I keep you laughing?"

"Maybe," she teased. "But it depends on how good you are at keeping the mystery alive."

"Oh, I’m very good at keeping secrets," he said, his tone dropping playfully. "But I’ll let you in on one: I’m not usually this charming. I’m just trying to impress the most captivating person in the room."

Y/n snorted softly. "You’re laying it on thick now."

"Hey, if it works, I won’t apologize."

They went back and forth like that, the conversation flowing so naturally it felt like they’d known each other for ages. Y/n was curious but also didn’t want to break the spell by turning around. Whoever he was, he was making her laugh, and she liked the mystery of it all.

Eventually, though, her curiosity got the better of her. After yet another playful jab from the man behind her, she finally turned around, ready to face the charming stranger.

Her breath hitched when she saw who it was.

"Lando Norris?" she blurted, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The British Formula 1 driver stood there, leaning casually against the bar, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "In the flesh," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You weren’t expecting me, were you?"

Y/n stared for a second, still processing the fact that one of the most famous young drivers in the world had been flirting with her for the past ten minutes. "I… definitely wasn’t," she admitted, her surprise morphing into laughter.

"Well, I’m glad I could provide some shock value," Lando teased, clearly enjoying her reaction. "But if it helps, I was enjoying being the mysterious guy behind you. You know, no fame, no racing cars—just a guy in a casino."

She shook her head, still smiling. "And here I thought I was just talking to some regular guy trying his hand at flirting."

Lando’s grin widened. "Oh, I am definitely trying my hand at flirting. Famous or not, that part’s all me."

Y/n laughed again, this time more relaxed. "Well, you’re doing a pretty good job. I’ll give you that."

"Only pretty good?" Lando raised his eyebrows in mock offense. "I was hoping for at least 'very good.'"

"Let’s just say the jury’s still out," she teased back, feeling a lightness in the air between them.

Lando tilted his head, considering her words. "Alright, fair enough. But how about I buy you another drink, and we’ll see if I can sway the jury in my favor?"

Y/n smirked, raising her glass. "You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Norris."

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 7.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 1.2k

—chapter content/warnings: not much here!!, cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, subtle flirting (in san's and oc's terms lmfao)

—a/n: hi! just a friendly lil reminder that these half chapters are random scenes/bits that couldn't really fit into a chapter or stand-alone as one. they're mostly in the past and will not always follow the exact timeline of the previous or upcoming chapter!

San booked off most of his day to help Christopher with this symposium. Well, actually, most of the group has [minus a select few others] in order to make room for the quick tech rehearsal and run through before its official start time in the next half hour or so. The staff is now bringing in the fruit, cheese and other pastries, along with coffee, tea and juice— setting them outside of the conference room on a long table. The symposium is supposed to be 5 hours, being that everyone keeps to their 20-min presentation + 10-min Q&A times. San is off to the side speaking with Jongho and Chris, while Mingi and Zara are fiddling with the AV system to test their own presentations for the final time. Even though this is the one time most of their schedules worked, Yeosang had to skip out due to heading overseas for a conference. As San sips on his coffee, Yunho and Iseul walk in alongside of Namjoon. Per usual, he keeps greetings to a bare minimum:

AKA, a very subtle smile and nod to both. One that Yunho reciprocates, one that Iseul doesn't like to acknowledge.

But, whatever.

"Did you guys tell your labs about this?" Chris nervously wipes his hands on his dress pants, nervous about how his first symposium is gonna turn out.

"Dude." Jongho laughs and pokes fun at him. "Relax."

"I bragged about it way too much, I don't even know if people wanna come anymore." San teases, making Chris shake him by the shoulders. "Relax! They'll come!"

"What if no one shows up? We'll be giving presentations to each other—" Chris laughs, but a few people start trickling into the conference room; providing him with a sense of relief. "Oh, thank god." The three start giving small nods to the students and other faculty dipping in, greeting them just as they set their things down and grab some food.

"Can't believe you actually thought people wouldn't come. Think you might need extra chairs." San points out as more people flood in.

"Shit, I did it." Chris beams from ear to ear, shifting his attention to two more familiar faces. "Oh! Hey Y/N, Jiung!" He says as the two of you walk towards their group, giving them very curt bows.

"Hi." You smile at all, especially San. He bites onto his straw, trying his hardest to hold back his smile.

"Thanks for coming."

"Of course! Got a good lineup, excited to hear all the presentations!" Jiung tugs on his backpack straps.

"In that case, send me a full report on it tomorrow." Jongho jokes, making Jiung playfully roll his eyes.

"Do you see how he treats me?" Chris and Jongho laugh.

"Nah, he's been talking a lot about the work you've been doing and how you're probably the best person to help get the rig together for our optical electrophysiology project."

"Aw, really?" Jiung looks at Jongho. "You mean it?" Jiung has stars in his eyes and Jongho can't help but deny the allegations. He has said it time and time again; Jiung is definitely doing great work and Jongho doesn't want him to go anywhere. If he could keep him for good, he would. He hopes he can.

He'd just never say it out loud cause he's like that.

"Hey now." He shakes his head. "I never said anything, I don't know what he's talking about." 

"We have a few minutes actually, let's talk about that real quick and follow up in another meeting later on." Chris looks at you. "Sorry to have to pull him away from you, Y/N. Professor Choi #2 can keep you company?"

"All good." 

"Be back." Jiung looks at you. "I'll save us those chairs." He points towards two end spots near the middle section. You awkwardly watch as Chris, Jongho and Jiung approach another professor to talk about said project, leaving you with San. 

"Hi." He says shyly. You've never seen him this way, and he's too fucking cute, too fucking charming. It makes you replay the dinner events in your head, only pushing your curiosity of what he'd be like if you two were completely alone. 

"Hi. Is that your nervous face poking out? Are you nervous?" You tease a bit.

"Me?" He playfully scoffs. "No. Dinner was more nerve-racking than this."

"What, why?" You giggle.

"Because it's you. I have to be extra careful with you, remember?"

"Right." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes glaze over his figure; he's dressed nicely in a white button up, tie and grey vest. They're all dressed nicely for the occasion, but it's definitely an extra weakness for you seeing San like this. 

"You're cute." He mutters as he bites his straw again and takes a sip of his iced coffee, eyes looking around the room to make his flirting not so obvious. And it isn't, except Yunho has been watching from the side while he waits for Iseul to finish up working through some presentation issues with IT. He didn't mean to, but his eyes gradually glazed over to the two of you smiling and laughing.

He can't help it, but the interaction feels different. The only time he's ever seen San that shy and flustered is when he was courting Iseul. It almost feels like he's watching something unfold all over again. 

"All good!" Iseul says, knitting her brows together when Yunho seems to be preoccupied. "You okay?" She asks, Yunho finally returning his attention to her.

"Yeah, sorry. Was just people-watching." Iseul looks over, eyes also falling on San but she doesn't necessarily get a chance to think much about it before Yunho is chiming in again. "Let's go grab some food before it starts." He laces his hand with hers and leads her to the end, front row seats.

Meanwhile, you've been too busy keeping your attention on San to care about everyone else. You're so tempted to nudge him, be a little affectionate with him. And it's taking everything in you to remind yourself who you are and where you are at.

"Stop it."

"Glad you actually made it, though."

"I told you I'd come."

"And I'm glad it wasn't just something you said to brush me off in the hallway." You laugh.

"No, never." Jiung wraps up his talk with the other professors, his eyes meeting yours with a small nod towards the seats he sat his bag down at. "Well, guess they're done. I'll see you later? Goodluck on your talk, Professor Choi." He smiles toothlessly at you.

"Thank you, Y/N." He watches as you walk off and meet Jiung, plopping down onto the seat as he debriefs you on his impromptu meeting. 

"Hm." Jongho hums and clears his throat, slowly walking over to his bestfriend while sipping his coffee.

"Yes?"

"Nothing." Jongho squints his eyes at him, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Productive conversations going around, I see."

"Mhm." San chuckles, knowing exactly what Jongho's hinting at.

"Hey!" Zara comes over with a bright smile on her face. "We saved you some seats." She points at the front row on the left side, waving them over. "Come." 

"Sweet, thanks." Jongho leads the way while Zara tucks her hair behind her ear and walks alongside of San.

"Ready?" San shrugs as he looks at her.

"As can be."

"I'm sure it'll be great like always." He smiles.

"Thanks." He lets her slip into the seat next to Jongho before sliding into the end seat, eyes quickly glancing over at you before he gets situated and switches modes for the symposium.

Though, you are incredibly distracting, and he can only hope he can get you alone sometime soon just to show you exactly how he feels.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny

[wileys-russo]

hey! no clue if your requests are open but if they are how about leah x reader where leah plans a date where they go golfing, hoping to impress reader with her skills but reader actually plays golf too and ends up being better than leah at it. so leah is just completely dumbfounded and slightly annoyed (in a good way) but also impressed. also cueing some teasing from r about being better.

big swing II l.williamson

"this is where we're spending the day?" you laughed as leah pulled up to the golf course, grinning at you as she parked the car. "i told you we were doing an outdoor activity and to dress for the occasion." leah hurried out of the car and to your side, popping open your door.

"thank you, charmer." you smiled, pecking her lips as she closed the door after you. "when the hell did you pack those?" you shook your head as leah popped her boot, grabbing out a set of clubs.

"never you mind my girl." leah grinned. "oh you're a sick sick woman." you sighed, seeing the engraved LW on each club, your girlfriend shoving your head playfully before slinging the clubs over her shoulder, locking her car and holding out her hand for you to take.

she booked you both in, promising to take you out for lunch afterwards as you watched on in amusement as she made a point to greet everyone you came across, relishing in the fact they all knew her by name, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye clearly trying to impress you.

she made sure to introduce you to everyone as her girlfriend, dropping the word as often as she could with a proud grin on her face. "hey stewart, can you hook my girlfriend up with a set of clubs please?" leah leant forward on the counter with a charming smile toward the older man.

"i'm just gonna go put my clubs in the cart love." leah murmured quietly, kissing the side of your head and stepping outside as stewart brought out a few different sets for you to try.

selecting the ones you were happy with you were quick to pay for them before your girlfriend returned, earning yourself an annoyed scowl from the taller blonde as you met her outside, handing her your chosen clubs to load in the back of the cart with her own.

"today was supposed to be on me, cheeky girl." leah tutted as you slid into the cart beside her, kissing her cheek and mumbling a thank you into the skin as she started the cart, driving you to the first hole.

"you go first babe, show me how its done." you waved for her to start as leah hopped out of the cart, riffling through her clubs and pulling out her driver, sending you a wink as you leaned against the cart, dropping your sunglasses down onto your nose as she positioned herself.

you clapped politely at leahs first shot which sailed straight down the green, the blonde nodding in satisfaction as she made her way back to you. "do you want a hand picking out which club to use?" leah offered with a somewhat cocky smile, and so deciding to play into her ego you nodded.

leah selecting your club she took your hand and guided you to the tee, making a show of demonstrating where your hands go and how to swing, only stepping away once you assured you were okay.

you smiled to yourself as your first shot went straight, it didn't go as far as leah's but it did remain on the fairway and you shrugged happily. "nice shot gorgeous, must have a good teacher!" leah winked as the two of you drove down to where your balls sat.

"mmm something like that."

~

it turns out, it was something like that however not what leah imagined.

she'd taken you golfing in hopes of being able to show off, wanting you to be impressed and proud as well as giving herself an opportunity to get a little handsy with you as she showed you the ropes.

however, leahs plan was unraveling with every hole the two of you played. you'd rejected needing her help and much to leahs absolute horror you were winning.

by now she'd put two and two together that you'd clearly played before, your shots all effortlessly successful as you'd send her a smile and a wink afterward, asking if there was anything she'd have you do differently as your teacher, only winding up the defender further.

"so. did you plan on ever telling me you're secretly a golf pro?" the blonde asked moodily as you returned by her side after making a birdie with a happy grin. "you never asked." you smiled smugly, stealing a kiss and gesturing for her to take her shot.

"you never asked." the blonde mocked under her breath with a huff, only widening your smile at how much this was getting to her. her annoyance grew as she missed an easy putt, smacking her club into the ground and swearing loudly.

"hey hey williamson we treat our tools with respect here, this isn't a football pitch there isn't someone who comes and fixes the grass at half time." you teased, the blonde sending you a murderous glare as you grinned, blowing her a kiss as she tapped her ball in and made her way back to you.

"don't be a sore loser." you cooed, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek repeatedly as she pushed you off. "i love golf! why didn't you tell me you were so good, we could have played together already." leah pouted with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest.

"because i hate golf. the only reason i'm decent is because its the only way my dad ever tried to bond with me, we spent almost every second sunday playing golf and he was not a patient teacher." you laughed, grabbing her hands and squeezing them gently.

"you'd still destroy me on the football pitch lee, now stop being so stroppy." you kissed her knuckles. "we're going for a kick around for our next date then." leah decided firmly making you laugh and agree, pulling the older girl into a proper kiss.

"now, would you like me to show you how to properly swing captain?" "oh fuck off!"

[etoilesombre]

Hi im a new here i finally watched black sails after someone convinced me. And im changed. I'm. Yeah. I'm not who i was before. It's a bizarrely good show?

I'm so so so glad that so many ppl on ao3 agree with me that flint and silver need to fuck. Have fucked. Will fuck.

This will be all i think about for the next month or so.

If you have fic recs do let me know. I'm in dire need.

Hi my friend and welcome to hell! It's the best, right? ("Month" is a HIGHLY optimistic estimate about how long this will consume your brain...)

So honored that you asked for recs! I don't think I've ever compiled a general list of favorites, I had a great time and I think I'm happy with the results. This is by no means comprehensive, and obviously HIGHLY reflective of my own tastes, which are... uh.. I am known to not enjoy nice things very much. I invite others to reblog with their own favorites. Here we go...

Notes: These are in vaguely chronological order. I'm including word count and brief descriptions so you know what you're getting into but no warnings or anything, that's all on AO3. They are all silverflint and all explicit (I think, there might be one or two 'mature' in there but, this is the they need to, have, and will fuck list.) I didn't include any of my own work because presumably that's how you found my blog so you're aware, but I do have a pinned list, and if you want recs for mine or to talk about any of these just message, I will talk about silverflint all day.

Overall Recommendations:

The Most Unexpected Things by forbiddenarchives (~20k words) I think this one is a great starting point. It is very.. fic flavored fic, if that makes sense, in a great way. Hits the spot. The author's description is "season 2 if everyone were 5000% hornier" and that is accurate. Note this is marked as unfinished, but the place it wraps up feels totally reasonable to me.

As Good as Gone by spinninginfinityboy (~5.5k words) Complicated hot weird semi-hate sex on the way to Charles Town. A thing with a Spanish Dubloon that is emblazoned on my brain forever.

Combat by equestrianstatue (~10k words) A two part series, which I think captures the push-pull early frenemies vibe of s1-2 perfectly. Also the writing itself is stellar.

All alone in a moonlit shanty by PrimalScream (4.3k) Celebrating a good day hunting, Flint gets very drunk and tells the crew a dirty story. Silver tries to put him to bed, but he has different ideas. By far one of the lighter things on this list.

after the winnowing by princesskay (~14k) Set after Silver loses his leg, early in his recovery. Silk pajamas, multiple orgasms and overstimulation as well as their usual codependent fuckery.

What It Feels Like Not to Hurt by Robotboy (~9k) Another recovery fic. As the author says, it's 9k of slowburn watersports but really it's about Silver's pain and autonomy and humiliation and. Just. Even if it's not your usual cup of tea it's hot, give it a try.

vigia by doomcountry (~3k) A short, perfect rendering of their dynamic during early s3 raid times. Heartwrenching character study, excellent porn.

The Sack of James Flint by princesskay (~107k) So, yes, this is a novel length sub!Flint cock and ball torture series. I would make the argument that it is one of the best character studies in the fandom, for real. Absolutely worth your time, but fuck, it hurts your heart as much as your captain's balls in the end.

Concurrence by ember_firedrake (~2.5k) Mid s3. The first time they call each other by their first names. Now, that's not actually a thing I think they do, but, good porn and lower angst.

appreciation by nysscientia (~8k) Flint cultivates a certain aloof persona, but Silver sees right through it, and eventually they kiss about it.

Don't Fear The Ships (Fear The Black) by Farasha (~10k) - Silverflint use learning to sail as a coded way to flirt and talk about feelings (and eventually they kiss about it).

A Ship Is A Republic by Robotboy (~20k) A slow burn fic set during the inter-season sword training times. Love this dynamic, this author does power bottom Flint and sub Silver so fucking well.

deliverance is ours by the light of the stars by piratecaptainraven (3.1k) Flint sees Silver and Madi together, and doesn't stop watching when he should. They don't technically fuck in this, but its SO much pining, and the writing is poetic and gorgeous.

frail and fragile bars by ajaxthegreat (~21k) Possibly the hottest thing I've ever read, this rewrote my brain chemistry. Slow burn-ish. It captures that late season love and dependence and resentment and power struggle.

Cold, Dark, Depraved by notfelix (~10k) When fucking fixes absolutely nothing. This hurts in a way that feels, to me, similar to canon. I hate it (affectionate).

Opportunist by anonymous (~6.1k) This was part of the kinkmeme event (see below) and it fucking changed me. If I recommend one fic and only one fic to process the ending, it's this. It's awful. It's necrophilia and light cannibalism. It's the only thing I can imagine happening after, if Silver actually shoots Flint on that island. It makes me feel bad in the best way.

hand in unlovable hand by brinnanza, Jaynovz (~9.9k) Affectionately known as the worst ending AU, this is actually a great followup to the last one. How Silver copes, after Skeleton Island.

Bonus: AUs. I don't generally read AUs, but these two worked for me, in very different ways that still felt very silverflint.

did the twin flame bruise paint you blue by Jaynovz (138k) Novel length mod AU where silverflint broke up, and we see their relationship along two different timelines, before and after. Toxic fucked up goodness, lots of BDSM dynamics, bonus silvervane! All set in NYC.

holy ghost fire by ajaxthegreat (~52k) Appalachia horror au! The author clearly knows the area, and silverflint is already a ghost story, so it works really well. If you've ever been there you'll know how right it feels, if not, just trust me.

extra bonus: fic event collections and rec lists

kinkmeme

built on sand

beach blanket black sails

@jaynovz has also compiled a number of much more specific rec lists, which can be found at #jay's esoteric rec lists

[shadowsndaisies]

dogfighting 101 - 01: let's make it interesting

wc: 1.3k

synopsis: harvard is a good friend (and petty on your behalf)

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: hi friends! hope you're all doing well, have some more top gun maverick athena plot.

You got lucky on the first pairing.

“Athena! Harvard and Yale! You're up!”

“Let's go boys, we got a fossil to take down,” you smirk.

Harvard rolls his eyes, throwing an arm over your shoulder, and quietly to you he whispers, “that fossil raised you.”

“Exactly why I get to say it,” you tease, leaning into your friend for a moment.

Harvard shakes his head and pulls you out on to the tarmac. You pause briefly, looking out as Payback and Fanboy pass by, tapping at your shoulders, wishing you luck. Your eyes focus on Bradley though, doing push ups as Hondo counts them. You know the tarmac is blazing, you can feel it through your gear, you can imagine having to do push-ups right now would be miserable. You can even see the strain on his face.

“You remember the rules?” Yale asks as he catches up to the two of you, but you know both of the men caught where your gaze was focused. Harvard’s arm is still tight around your shoulders, and he gives you a squeeze.

“I remember, do you?” you ask, swallowing your thoughts and turning back to the pair.

“Well there was this pilot at Top Gun with us, she gave us so much shit, but hand to God if she isn't the best pilot I’ve ever flown with. She had these rules up in the air, how to focus in, what we leave on the ground, she drilled them into us, really. But, she made us better aviators, hands down,” he teases and you shake your head, happy that these two were your partners for the first go. Brigham turns you with a smile, pushing you toward your jet.

“I think you give me too much credit, Logan,” you muse as you stop beside your jet, grabbing a hold of the ladder.

“Not possible. Show ‘em what this nepo-baby’s made of,” Harvard negates with a teasing tone, tapping your shoulders.

“Yes, sir,” you muse rolling your eyes before climbing up into your jet.

You spot Harvard and Yale as they walk past Rooster. You see the tap Harvard does, stopping Yale, and you watch as he pulls his phone out. The two stopping to snap a photo, undoubtedly teasing him in the process. Yale shakes his head as they walk, and as if feeling your gaze, Harvard turns back meeting your eyes. You know he can see your frown, but all he does is tap at his chest and point at you.

FLASHBACK: TOP GUN

“Why haven’t you emailed him back?”

Brigham’s question catches you off guard, you’d been sat in the Naval Aviator’s lounge at Top Gun. Your laptop open as you switched between Bradley’s most recent email, and a text chain you had running with Amelia about going sailing on your day off over the weekend.

”What?” you ask, turning to look at Brigham.

You liked Brigham, and Logan. They were a good team, and smart aviators. Talented and clever, its makes sense why they got invited to Top Gun. They were also the only two of your class that you actually enjoyed spending time with. They were the only two who didn’t make nepotism jokes as soon as someone realized you were a legacy, that your old man was a Top Gun graduate. They were a solid team, solid aviators, and solid people, you were quickly starting to consider them friends.

”You’ve had that email open on and off the last few days,” he notes casually as he sits down across you.

”You’re a snoop, Lennox,” you deflect with a flat look.

”Guilty, I got two older sisters, snooping was a part of the job, and you make for an easy target, Mitchell,” he shrugs in response. “But it doesn’t answer my question.”

”Not that it’s any of your business, but I never email him back,” you admit honestly.

”Bradshaw, I recognize the name, he’s an aviator too, came through Top Gun last year? Or was it the year before?”

”Yeah something like that, goes by Rooster,” you confirm.

”So what’s the story?” Harvard’s pokes.

”Doesn’t matter,” you shrug off.

”Oh, I get it,” he decides smirking, leaning back as your eyes narrow. “Hook up gone wrong.”

You choke on that, an incredulous look taking over your features. “Ew, no! God,” you scoff.

”Then what?” there’s a challenging smirk still on his lips and you decide that making friends might have been overrated.

”We grew up together. Something happened when he was 18, set him back, made him mad. He blames my dad,” you nutshell.

”So he blames you too?”

“He did. Said some fucked shit, and I decided distance was for the best.”

“That bad?”

“I was raised by a naval aviator for a dad, Harvard. I spent deployments in the PACFLEET Commander’s home. And in every other moment until what happened, I spent with Brad and his mom. What he said, it wasn’t something he gets to walk back by trying to email me life updates,” you bite back, venom in your voice.

Harvard’s hands go up in a second, surrender, he mimes. Your shoulders drop and you look at the roof before taking a breath. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I… I try not to be mad, it was a long time ago.”

“Respectfully, I’ve only known you since we got here, but, if you’re still mad, if it still hurts, then I think it’s justified,” Harvard offers.

“Like I said, it was a long time ago,” you repeat, shaking your head.

“Maybe, but you don’t seem like one to hold grudges, Athena. Whatever he did and said, and you don’t have to tell me, it’s enough for me to know that I don’t think I like him very much.”

You smile softly despite yourself. Just a little quirk of the lip from the blind support you’re being offered. It was so different than the ‘maybe you should reach out’ and ‘hasn’t it been long enough?’ that Sarah, Ice, and Viper would drop, and it’s not their fault you never told them what Bradley said, but you weren’t ready for that, not truly. Brigham in one conversation, had reaffirmed your belief, had brought a comfort that you never realized you needed.

“Thanks, Brig, really,” you say softly.

“Anytime, Athena. You practically kept Yale and I from being booted day one, what ever you need, we got your back, girl, always,” he promises.

You nod softly, willing yourself not to get emotional from the support.

“C’mon, Yale was looking for you earlier, I think he want’s to try that taco place we passed by on the way to the beach the other day,” Harvard offers, effectively ending the previous conversation.

He stands, gently shutting your laptop with a pointed look before offering a hand to pull you up.

You take it gratefully, and pause once you’re on your feet, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, “you’re a very good friend, Brigham Lennox, and I am very grateful,” you tell him.

“Let’s go, we gotta get out of here for a bit,” he says dismissively, cheeks pinking slightly.

You nod, and walk in front, he follows after you, handing your laptop back with a smile.

...

You’re brought back from the past as your name is called, giving you the 'all clear' to start take-off protocols. You take a breath and remember the rule, leave it on the ground, a clear head for clear skies and soon enough the three of you were in the sky over the training range.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291

[socksracoon10]

Is That It?

A/N: AHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER, IVE JUST BEEN SO BUSY OK?!??! IM SO SORRY GUYS I REALLY MEAN IT! But omg im so glad im back to writing and finally done with this draft! Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader

"You think he's ever coming back?" Your friend, Charlotte, questioned you. You were busy scrubbing the floor of the Governor's room with a very thing rag of cloth. You held it up, unfolding it to get a glimpse of all its holes and tears, a predicament to your tireless work. Gazing into one of the holes which led to the view of the sea outside the grand window, you let out a desolate sigh,

"I've lost all hope."

"Such a shame, I really thought he was interested in you." Charlotte huffed out, before sneezing against the dressing table; the dust flying in every direction it could find. You rolled your eyes, returning back to your work. It had been such a long time since you had heard anything about Will Turner, you almost thought you had forgotten his existence. The first few days after he had left was a blow to your guts, but then as time went on, you managed to adapt a new life - one which definitely didn't involve you making frequent pit stops at the blacksmith's workshop.

All you remembered was him hurriedly running about, fighting the incoming pirates. One of them had their hands wrapped around your throat, their eyes burning into your soul as they repeatedly uttered foreign words to your ears. You didn't understand it, you had no need to. All you could think about was finding a way out of the situation you were in; Will also had the same idea, because in a short amount of time, he hopped over to you and crashed a bottle of rum against the pirate's head and then looked back up at you in anger.

"What are you doing here?" He croaked out, grabbing you by your arm before dragging you off.

"I was coming to find you!" You exclaimed, shaking your head, "I didn't know it was going to get this bad out of nowhere! Who even are these people?"

"Pirates, and I don't - well, they took Elizabeth." He grumbled and you sucked your teeth to hide the surge of jealousy coursing through your veins. Yes, they were childhood friends and were very well acquainted with each other, but you had spent more time with Will than anyone else! I mean, who let him into the Governor's quarters to deliver the swords? Who made food for him and left them at his doorstep? You did, of course! But the oaf was always so caught up with his feelings for Elizabeth, you could hardly ever tell if you were just there as his "best friend" or someone to service him.

When he had left without informing you, you felt at first very much betrayed. And then you felt anger course through your veins only to be simmered down with your gut rattling in resentment. You figured you were dead to him, and that him leaving abruptly was a sign that you no longer meant anything to him. You scowled at yourself, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to make the best of the situation at hand. The only thing your mind told you to do was to move on, with or without him. It did not matter anymore.

The Governor had seen promise in you after the disappearance of his daughter and Commodore Norrington was charged with sending you back to England for an education. You were, after all, the same age as Elizabeth and showed "some sign of intelligence" according to the people around you. You held your tongue, head faced downwards because as much as Port Royal was home to you, this opportunity would never cross your path ever again. It would only be wise to employ it and distract yourself from the boredom within the port. Besides, your only friend had left you, so there really was no point in sticking around in this dreary place. You sighed, nodding your head at whatever the old men would instruct you to do, and found yourself aboard a ship, setting sail towards England for a new chapter in your life. ****

"What's going on? What's with the ruckus?" You had asked, emerging from the special quarters on the ship. The weather was monstrous, the thunder booming every 5 seconds as a reminder of the treacherous seas. The waves splashed against the ship, churning it as if it were butter. The first mate on the crew instructed you to return back to your room, but you could barely understand what was going on. Should your return to Port Royal be this miserable? Was this the sea's way of telling you to return to England? After finishing 2 dreadfully long years of education through a prestigious - and prude - tutor, you longed to return to that misshapen cottage you once called home. At the moment, it seemed that your grave would lack the corpse it needed if everyone on board was going to drown. From the fog, your eyes bore into the sight of a mysteriously, large ship. Its flag tethered, its wood withered. As the crew around you began panicking, screaming, and crying for mercy, you stood there in shock. This was a pirate ship.

You remembered Will. He had gone after Elizabeth after she had been abducted by those foul creatures. You wondered what happened to him, wondered if he was still the same sweet Will you had grown up with. As the ship in front of you came to a stop, the planks were drawn out. Ah, now was probably a good time to head back into your quarters.

"Wait, wait, Miss (L/N), you cannot leave us! Where are you going!" A small boy had asked. You pitied him, he was no more than 6 years old. Feeling your heart battle with morality, you caught hold of his arm and dragged him into your quarters. You pushed the bed to its side and hid behind it, closer to the wall with the boy seated on your lap. You brought a hand over his mouth and whispered into his ear,

"Not a word out of you. We do not want to be killed."

That was enough to have him behave. The sounds outside only increased tenfold. You could hear flesh being slain, and bones crushing against metal swords. Gruesome, vile noises. You gagged to yourself, resting your head against the wall as you tried to formulate an escape from all this. There had to be another way. You peered over the side of the bed, noticing a shadow behind the door; it lingered for a few more seconds before a sword came pummeling through. The boy in your arms shrieked in horror, and you clasped his mouth shut as you shrank into the corner of the room. There was a sword tucked into the wooden boards under you, mainly for the ship's captain. He wouldn't be needing it now. You propped yourself with your knees, pulling the board open as the boy snuck his arm in to retrieve the glistening sword for you. When you caught hold of the metal, you merely nodded your head to the boy and then stood up to guard him. The door to the quarters was being ripped down by the pirates outside, and you stepped back, the sword stretched out towards the incoming villains.

"Stand back, foul pirates! You do not want to mess with me!" You bellow, swiping your sword around. The pirates that had finally come into view all snickered under their breath, their gazes dark and unforgiving. You saw one press his foot forward, and you jutted the sword out as a warning. He smiled in response, before they all turned their heads to face the man pushing through them.

"Out of the way, out of the way, move," A voice splintered through, and through the darkness of the storm, you couldn't make his face out exactly. The little boy behind you brought the candle from the wall over to the crowd, and that was when the light illuminated Will's face. Your jaw dropped at first, words disintegrating into the air at the sight of him.

"Will?" Your eyes widened, shoulders sagging just a bit. Will raised an eyebrow, scanning you very carefully before he noticed the locket around your neck. It was an oval shape, crafted by him as a gift for your 12th birthday. His hands gently came to lift it up in the light, and a soft gasp escaped his lips,

"(Y/N), it's you!" He exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace. The sword fell from your hands, clattering onto the ground below as you stood there in shock. You had never thought you'd see him again, and here he was… as a pirate?!? Your blood was boiling, the audacity of him to even hug you when you had spent years worried over him. You shoved him off before slapping him across his face. The crowd of pirates behind him winced in unison, all of them awkwardly looking away.

"I-I never thought that'd happen to me," Will groaned, rubbing his sore cheek. He watched you push past him to the deck outside, the storm still relentlessly pouring down onto the men aboard. You looked so foreign to him, standing there in those fancy nightgowns that he had only ever seen Elizabeth wear. When he had left you that night, he had embarked on a journey that had changed his entire life. He had discovered that his father was a pirate and that he was meant to be among the seas, not toiling away in Port Royal. Elizabeth had managed to find a hold among the seas too, but she declined Will's proposal to her. She told him she had viewed him more as a brother than anything else, and while that did hurt him at first, he slowly came around to understand it.

And then he remembered you, waiting for him at Port Royal. Even with all that had happened, he never wanted to come back because he believed that by showing up unexpectedly, he was only hurting you more. He figured your life as a maid was already bad enough; he was wrong, clearly. You no longer looked like a maid, you looked like the daughter of a prestigious family. He chewed his lip, eyes grazing over your form to understand what this new transformation meant but before he could even ask, he saw Jack Sparrow stumbling towards you. That was more than enough for him to try and save you.

"My lovely lady, what ever brings you-" Jack began, abruptly cut off by Will jumping in,

"Ah, that's enough of that," He glared at Jack, before forcing a smile towards you, "(Y/N), please. I need some time to talk to you. Alone. Privately."

"I could help the mistress dry her clothes," Jack grinned, stepping forward. You caught a glance of Will sucking his teeth in, trying his hardest to maintain his composure. You smirked, remembering the days when you used to tease him for always carrying a wooden gun, pretending to be an officer. He had that same look on his face, that grumpy attitude when someone tried to break up your play time. Your eyes softened, reminiscing the good days. You sorely missed him, that was for sure.

"Well, as grateful as I am that you have offered to be of some assistance to me, pirate," You crinkled your nose, pushing past Jack, "I suppose I could have some pity towards this man and converse with him… of course, if he promises to have the little boy on board with him."

Will's mouth parted slightly, frowning at your words, "I… I'm not… the uh… it doesn't matter with me, I mean I'd keep him…" He paused, momentarily to peer down at the little boy next to you, before looking to Jack, "It's up to him, though. He's the Captain."

"I am! I am!" Jack cheered, clasping his hands together. You crossed your arms, turning to Will,

"You're not even Captain?" You questioned through gritted teeth.

"I… no. Is that… Is that bad?" He shrugged, wincing at the way your shoulders were rising. You merely huffed out in annoyance, grabbing the ends of your dress to stalk off to the opposite side of the deck. Your anger was uncontrollable. He wasn't even Captain? Then what the hell was he doing for so long away from you? An absolute waste of time! You grumbled under your breath, feeling every urge in your body to lash out on him. When you swiftly turned on your heels, you were faced with a very apologetic Will who was trying his best to comfort you,

"Listen, it's not as bad as you-"

"Oh, shut it! I have spent years, years pining for you! I thought you were dead! I thought you had gone off with Elizabeth, or spent the rest of your life stuck on an awful ship! The possibilities, the scenarios I had thought about your future! And, and… and even if you were a pirate, I figured you'd be a Captain with all the skills you have! What even are you? You horrible creature, you vile beast! You tormented me for this long and this is all you could do? How dare you even show your face to me after all you have done!?!" You bellowed, slapping his face. Will stepped backwards, his mind reeling at your words.

"That's it?" Will asked, eyes wide open as he stared at you.

"That's it?" You repeated, chest heaving in shock, "Is that it? Really? That's all you have to say? I just confessed my feelings and that's all you have to say!"

Will stood there, like a sword lodged into a piece of wood. He swallowed, thickly, trying everything that he could to understand what was happening. You had just confessed that you have had feelings for him since you were young, that you were worried sick for him this whole time. He felt like a fool! To think that he had spent ages worshipping Elizabeth when you were right there beside him. He looked down in embarrassment, feeling a bit ashamed at this revelation. You had shoved him to the side, angrily muttering things under your breath as you headed towards the broken quarters.

And Will knew, as he watched you go, that he had to make up for this somehow. He'd start by showing you just how much he had missed you too.

[alxtiny]

Ad Astra per Aspera

Episode 4

Pairing: Pirate!Ateez x Navigator!reader

Genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, maybe smut

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: none?

Notes: its here woohoo 🥳 i’m lazy please understand, also maps been updated for this chapter

Playlist : wonder by shawn mendes | this side of paradise by coyote theory | in the kitchen by mree

Series Masterlist | Episode 5 | Episode 3

When the first light of dawn started creeping in, it stirred you from your slumber, and you blinked your eyes open to a fresh new day. For a moment, you wondered if last night had been just a dream, considering how you felt renewed and well rested.

But as you shifted, you became aware of something—or rather someone—behind you. You froze, realising you were nestled snugly in Yunho's arms, his head resting against your back and his arm tucked underneath your head. Your legs were tangled together in a dangerous dance that left you more flustered than you’d care to admit. You slowly pulled yourself away and turned around, staring at him for a second, taking in his peaceful expression, his flushed cheeks, and messy hair. He looked so… soft, you brushed away a few strands from his face, the ticklish feeling making him twitch.

His movement made you panic, and you quickly shot up from the mattress, almost losing your balance as you did so. The sudden jerks caused Yunho to awaken, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He blinked, looking at you with a sleepy, lopsided smile that made your heart race.

"Good morning," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He looked like a sleepy puppy.

"H-hi, good morning," you stammered, feeling your face heat up. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of how close you had been.

Yunho stretched lazily, his long limbs extending out as he groaned. His tunic rose slightly, exposing a glimpse of his toned midriff, which only made your blush deepen. You quickly looked away, trying to compose yourself.

"We should probably go back up," you said, your voice a little shaky.

Yunho smiled again. "Yeah… let’s go before the others start wondering where we’ve been," he teased lightly, pushing himself to his feet and smoothing down his hair.

As Yunho flipped a few switches, the room began to transform back to its original state, the balcony retracting and the wall closing back up seamlessly. He gestured for you to follow him as he led the way back up the narrow passage. The ship was quiet, the crew likely still fast asleep, save for a few on night watch. Luckily, no one seemed to be around as you quietly made your way up and out of Yunho’s secret spot.

Once you were back on the deck, Yunho turned to you with a grin. "Alright, we’ve got a couple of hours before we need to get back to work. So, what do you want to do?"

You hesitated for a moment, still feeling tense because of the accidental cuddle, but Yunho didn’t seem to remember it at all. Maybe he hadn’t known, or maybe he was just brushing it off. Either way, it made the awkwardness dissipate a little.

"Well," you started softly, "I haven’t seen much of the ship yet. Maybe you could show me around?"

Yunho’s smile brightened, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "A tour of the ship? I can definitely do that!"

He stepped closer, his hands gently resting on your shoulders as he led you further across the deck. "Let’s start with the main deck. This is where most of the action happens during the day—sails, rigging, steering, all that fun stuff. Oh, and that’s where Hongjoong spends most of his time barking orders," Yunho said with a laugh, pointing toward the helm.

As he guided you through the ship, explaining each section with enthusiasm, you began to relax. The edge from earlier softening as Yunho’s cheery energy rubbed off on you. He showed you the various stations, the cabins, the weapons storage, and the little parts of the ship he liked the most.

By the time you went around and reached the bow of the ship, the sun had fully risen, sprinkling glitter over the water. Yunho leaned against the railing, looking out at the horizon.

"You know," he said, his voice softer now, "not many people get a personal tour of the ship directly from its engineer. It’s kind of special. That’s why I named it the Treasure."

You nodded, chuckling at his words, "I guess I’m lucky then.”

Yunho glanced at you, his eyes warm and gentle. "Yeah, I guess you are."

You stood together in silence for a while, watching the ocean stretch out before you, the ship cutting through the waves with ease. For the first time since being taken aboard, you didn’t feel like an outsider. You felt like you belonged, even if just for a moment. And standing there with Yunho, you couldn't help but think that maybe—just maybe—this strange, chaotic life might suit you well after all.

Unfortunately no moment lasts forever, as you and Yunho were abruptly interrupted by the loud voice of a crewman calling out for him. "Yunho! Captain’s asking for you!"

Yunho gave you an apologetic smile, "Looks like duty calls. You can stay here if you want, or maybe explore a bit more on your own. I’ll come find you later, okay?"

With a brief wave, Yunho left, leaving you alone on the deck. You sighed, feeling the quiet settle over you once again. Leaning against the railing, you closed your eyes, enjoying the sound of water splashing against the hull.

"What are you doing?" a deep voice cut through the white noise.

You glanced over to find Mingi standing next to you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"Nothing much," you replied lazily, used to people showing up out of nowhere. "Yunho gave me a tour of the ship."

Mingi chuckled, amused. "Did he now? That’s interesting. He doesn’t usually do that. In fact, I think even most of our crew doesn’t know every corner of the ship like Yunho does."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Mhmm," Mingi confirmed with a nod. "But anyway, I’m sure you know why I’m here."

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. "Not again," you complained, slumping back against the railing. "You saw me last time—I barely managed to not cut myself. Isn't that enough proof of my lack of skill?"

Mingi chuckled, clearly not deterred by your reluctance. "Well, that’s why you have me, right? To help you out. Besides, we're doing self-defence and hand-to-hand combat today. San’s with us this time."

You pouted in defeat as Mingi grabbed your arm, easily pulling you up to your feet. There was no escaping this. "Fine," you muttered. "But don’t expect much."

With a resigned sigh, you let him drag you below deck, where he guided you to a spacious room. The floor was lined with mats, and some training equipment was stacked off to the side. The room had a faint smell of sweat, which made you grimace slightly, but you kept your complaints to yourself.

In the middle of the room was San, already stretching like a cat, his lithe movements making it clear how flexible he was. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at how effortlessly his body moved. As soon as San spotted you, his serious expression brightened.

"There you are," San said with a playful grin as he walked over. "Took you long enough."

"Well, she wasn’t exactly eager to come," Mingi replied, shrugging.

"Ahh, that makes sense." San smiled at you and gestured toward the mats. "Alright, we’ve got a lot to cover today. Why don’t you stretch a bit while Mingi and I demonstrate?"

You nodded, sitting down on the mats and began to stretch your arms and legs. The movement caused your joints to pop in protest, reminding you of just how long it had been since you’d done any serious physical exercise. In front of you, San and Mingi stood at a safe distance, preparing to demonstrate the basics of hand-to-hand combat.

Mingi positioned himself in front of San, his stance wide and solid, while San moved with the grace of a ballerina. "First things first," San began, his voice steady, "we're going to show you some defensive moves. You’re not going to be attacking anyone right away. The goal here is to protect yourself and get out of a situation safely."

Mingi nodded in agreement, raising his arms in front of his face, "First you need an idea on what areas to look out for and how to optimise your body weight to deflect an attack," he instructed.

San advanced on Mingi, throwing slow, deliberate punches that Mingi blocked easily, deflecting each one with minimal effort. "You see how Mingi doesn’t try to overpower me," San said, still moving. "He’s using my momentum against me, redirecting the force of the attack rather than absorbing it."

You watched, trying to take in as much information as possible. They moved with such ease, clearly experienced in the art of combat, while you still felt clumsy even while walking, but you knew you had to try. This wasn’t just some practice session for you—it was for your survival.

"Alright," San said, stopping and turning to you. "Now it’s your turn. Don’t worry, we’ll start slow."

You got up, feeling slightly nervous as you stood in front of San. Mingi stepped aside, watching with an encouraging smile.

"Okay, I’m going to come at you slowly," San explained. "All you have to do is focus on blocking and deflecting. Don’t worry about hurting me—I can handle it."

You swallowed nervously and nodded. San advanced, throwing a light punch, which you awkwardly tried to block. Your arms moved in the right direction, but your timing was off, and the force of San’s hand still made contact, though gently.

San's teasing grin was both playful and exasperated. "Oh wow, you are bad at this," he said, shaking his head. The comment made you pout in sadness, feeling pity at your own inexperience. But he wasn’t giving up on you, not yet.

"We’re gonna be here for quite a while. Let’s do it again, but this time, try to anticipate the movement a little earlier," San instructed, his tone still gentle.

You nodded hesitantly, feeling the fatigue already creeping into your limbs. Each movement took a lot of effort, and frustration was beginning to build. You didn’t understand why it was so difficult for you to get the hang of this. Part of you wanted to ask them to give up, to admit that maybe combat wasn’t for you, but then again, someday you might not have anyone to rescue you.

San threw another punch, and this time, you managed to block it more effectively. It wasn’t perfect—your movements still lacked the smoothness that came with experience—but it was better. You could feel the difference, even if it was small.

"Yeah! Like that!" Mingi cheered from the sidelines, his voice full of encouragement. "You're doing better."

His words gave you a boost of confidence, and you found yourself blocking a few more of San’s punches, though ineptly. Each round started to feel like a small victory. Even though it wasn’t easy, with every block, you could feel yourself getting a little more coordinated. It was a slow process, but progress was there, and that was enough for now.

Finally, after what felt like hours—though it couldn’t have been more than two—San grinned at you after another successful block. "See? You’re tougher than you think," he said, his eyes twinkling with approval.

You managed a weak smile, wiping the sweat off your face. "I’ve never done this much exercise in my entire 24 years of living," you said, your voice exasperated.

Mingi clapped his hands, full of energy as always. "Well, we’re not done yet. We still have to learn offense."

At his words, you nearly melted into the floor. "Ugh, I don’t think I can anymore. I might die at this rate," you wailed dramatically, feeling utterly spent.

San laughed softly. "Now, now. Nobody’s dying. Get up, and we can finish quicker."

With a groan, you begrudgingly got up, forcing your body to continue despite the overwhelming urge to collapse. They taught you how to throw a few punches—San showing you how to position your fist and use your body weight. You learned how to knee someone effectively in the stomach, break out of somebody’s grip, and a few other basic self-defense techniques. It was exhausting, but by the end, you felt satisfied, having learned at least something.

By the time the training was over, it was almost five in the evening, and you were both thirsty and starving. Earlier, you had managed to grab some bread and a banana for breakfast when you were with Yunho, but since then, you had been burning more calories than you could keep up with. The hunger gnawed at you, and your mouth was dry.

Collapsing onto the floor, you lay flat on your back, hoping the ground would somehow absorb you and put you out of your misery once and for all. Alas, that didn’t happen.

San and Mingi sat down next to you, both trying to catch their breath. "You did good for a beginner," San said, offering you one of his cute, dimpled smiles. "I think you’ll be fine. We’ll keep practising, of course, once we’re back from our job."

His smile did make you feel a little better, the exhaustion easing slightly in the warmth of his words. You smiled back, feeling grateful for the time he spent helping you.

Mingi stretched his arms above his head and glanced at the clock on the wall. "We should go eat. I’m kinda hungry."

You couldn’t agree more. Finally, you were allowed to leave the stuffy training room, the outside air feeling like a blessing against your sweaty skin. The scent of saltwater and fresh air was almost pleasant after the dusty, sweat-soaked room. You couldn’t wait to take a long shower, but that would have to wait until you docked. For now, food was your top priority.

The three of you made your way to the kitchen, with San and Mingi walking ahead, chatting quietly about something. When you entered the dining hall, it was much quieter than before. Wooyoung wasn’t here this time, and the room was mostly empty, save for some pots and pans that held the remnants of lunch. It seemed you had missed the main meal, but there were still leftovers.

You piled some food onto your plate—a mix of whatever was left—and ate with a ravenous hunger, barely pausing between bites. It was delicious, like everything else on the ship, and once your plate was cleared, you felt somewhat revived.

"Well, I’m off to find some peace and quiet," you said, waving goodbye to San and Mingi, who still seemed to be in the middle of their conversation. You were looking forward to some downtime, maybe even a nap before the next task came up. But first, you had to check in with the captain and get an update on the ship’s location. With a sigh, you made your way back up the deck, your body tired but your mind a little sharper, thanks to the training.

Outside, the sky had deepened into soft shades of dusk, the air crisp and cool with a light breeze that carried the scent of the sea. You made your way quietly to the helm where Captain Hongjoong stood, as usual, keeping watch with Seonghwa steering beside him. You stood silently next to them, earning a quick side glance and nod of acknowledgment from Hongjoong.

It was the last stretch of light before you reached your destination. If everything went smoothly, the ship might reach the shore by early morning—just in time for you to slip into your accommodation unnoticed. All of a sudden, a familiar voice rang out from the lookout.

“Land ahoy!”

Instantly, the deck erupted with a flurry of movement. You could hear the crew working, the sounds of ropes being handled and sails rustling into place as they adjusted for the final stretch after the confirmation of land. You glanced behind and saw Wooyoung descending from the lookout’s nest with his usual flair, skipping the makeshift ladder entirely and opting to climb down the rigging with scary speed. A small smile tugged at your lips—of course, Wooyoung wouldn’t do things the ordinary way. That simply wasn’t his style.

He rushed towards the helm, slightly out of breath, though his energy didn’t falter. “Captain! We have approximately 350 nautical miles more to go—” he began, before you cut him off.

“That means seven more hours?” you asked, already calculating the time in your head.

Wooyoung turned his head towards you, a little impressed. “Yeah, exactly.”

You looked ahead at the distant speck of land. “We might reach earlier than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself, glad that you had managed to lead them through successfully.

“The sooner the better,” Captain Hongjoong said, his tone laced with carefully concealed excitement. “We might get some time for respite.” He was a man of efficiency, but even he couldn’t deny the appeal of some well-deserved rest.

“The arrangements for our arrival will have already been made,” Hongjoong added.

“I can’t wait to take a shower,” you sighed, the thought of fresh water and cleanliness feeling like a luxury after days at sea. The salt, sweat, and exhaustion from the combat training earlier were still clinging to you, making the idea of a long, hot shower even more enticing. One would think you would have gotten used to the dirt and grime given the nature of your job, but unfortunately for you, you never did.

Wooyoung grinned, his usual playfulness shining through. “I think we’re all in need of that at this point. Just a little while more.”

Seonghwa spoke quietly from his place at the wheel. “Enjoy the peace while it lasts,” he said, his eyes focused on the sea, “because once we dock, it’s going to be a different kind of chaos.”

You sighed, knowing Seonghwa was right, but before you could dwell on it too much, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found Wooyoung with a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He silently gestured for you to follow him.

Curiosity piqued, you trailed behind him until he stopped in front of the makeshift ladder by the main mast.

“We’re going up,” he said with a grin, pointing upwards towards the crow’s nest.

Your eyes widened. “You want me”—you pointed to yourself—“to climb that high?”

Wooyoung nodded eagerly, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall,” he added with a wink.

You squinted at him, unsure if he was serious or teasing, probably both. “Alright, but if I die, it’s on you,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

With a long sigh, you began the climb. The ladder was rough under your hands, and each step felt more unstable than the last. Twice, you nearly lost your grip, your heart leaping into your throat each time. Wooyoung, climbing right behind you, would chuckle softly each time you faltered, keeping an eye on you and helping you regain balance. After what felt like an eternity of effort and several near-death experiences, you finally reached the crow’s nest, breathless but alive.

“Woah,” you whispered in awe as you took in the view. The world stretched out infinitely before you, the sky blending into the sea. From up here, the ship seemed smaller, a lone vessel cutting through the vast ocean. The sunlight shimmered as it hit the waves, creating a mesmerising dance of light across the water, and the ship’s shadow rippled gently below.

“I know, right!” Wooyoung’s voice was full of excitement as he settled in beside you. “I thought you’d appreciate a little change of scenery. Something different from all that running around on deck.”

“I do,” you said, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply. The air up here was lighter, fresher—less of the dense, salty air that fogged around everything on the deck. For a moment, you just stood there, breathing it in.

Unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung was watching a different view, with a fond smile. Despite knowing so little about you, something about your presence felt familiar, comforting, like the easy bond of an old friend. He knew the others felt it too, it might have been because of the chemical that ran through all of your veins that created this invisible link between you. Whatever it was, Wooyoung knew he wanted to savour it for as long as possible.

Maybe, just maybe, you were the one who could help them like Captain Hongjoong had said.

“Thanks for bringing me up here,” you said, eyes opening slowly as you turned to Wooyoung. “I needed this.”

“Anytime,” Wooyoung replied softly, leaning back against the railing of the nest. His eyes flicked briefly to the sky before returning to you. “We’ll reach land soon, but before all of that starts, it’s nice to have moments like this, right?” Wooyoung’s voice was soft, and unusually calm.

You nodded, giving him a small, appreciative smile before you both made the climb back down. Once on the deck, you found yourself wondering what to do with the remaining six and a half hours, and the answer came easily—sleep. Who knew when you’d next get the chance? Dragging yourself to your small cabin, you collapsed onto the bed, and the moment your head hit the pillow, you were out.

You were woken by a strange sensation—like something soft and warm was… licking you? You cracked an eye, startled, only to find yourself staring right into Byeol’s big twinkling eyes. She was perched against the side of your bed, held up by none other than San himself, who was watching with an amused grin.

“Isn’t this the best alarm clock?” he said with a snicker, clearly entertained by your half-awake state.

You scowled, still groggy, and took Byeol from his hands, nestling her against your chest, trying to cuddle her to sleep with you. “This is why you don’t deserve her. She should live with me instead,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to Byeol’s head and closing your eyes again.

San huffed dramatically. “As if she’d want to live with you,” he teased back.

You squinted your eyes open again, giving him an offended glare. “Alright, what do you want? Why did you wake me?”

“Well, princess,” he began, leaning back with a smirk, “we’re about an hour from land. Captain sent this for you.” He held up a large leather backpack, swinging it back and forth in front of you. “You don’t have much since you were… uh, abducted twice. So we packed a few essentials for you, things you’ll need until we can dock, apart from clothes—those you can get at the port, since we’ll have a bit of time to spare.”

You blinked, taking the bag from him. “Ah… I see. Thank you.”

San’s grin softened, and he gave you a friendly clap on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Meet us up on the deck in half an hour.”

With a click of his tongue, he called Byeol, who bounded after him, leaving you alone with the bag and a few moments to gather yourself. Opening the pack, you found various useful items—water, some bandages, a small pouch of coins, and a map of the area near the port, along with a neatly folded blanket and some dried snacks. It was certainly very thoughtful of them, they could’ve left you without anything if they wanted to but they didn’t.

You took a deep breath, setting everything back into the bag before slinging it over your shoulder. After a few more minutes of preparing yourself phys and mentally, you climbed up to the deck to meet everyone. They were gathered near the bow, and as you joined them, Captain Hongjoong gave you a quick nod.

“Ready?” he asked, a little uncertain seeing the queasiness on your face.

The grip on your bag tightened as you nodded, pushing down the feeling, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

With the ship anchored just out of sight, hidden strategically behind raised rocks, the nine of you and two other crewmen piled into two smaller boats, making your way to shore. Once you were safely dropped off, the crewmen paddled back. The added part to the plan was that you’d accompany Jongho, Yunho, and Mingi into the marketplace the next morning when they went for restocking, so you could pick out new clothes. The thought of wearing something that actually fit and didn’t make you look like a shapeless blob made you more excited than you’d have expected.

As soon as you reached the shore, a masked man appeared, greeting Hongjoong with a bow and a firm handshake. The two seemed familiar, as the man led your group to a small clearing where another masked figure stood holding six beautiful horses, their coats gleaming under the moonlight. He greeted Hongjoong in the same respectful manner, and soon instructed everyone to pair up for the journey.

Hongjoong and the masked man rode alone, with Yeosang riding with Jongho, Mingi with Yunho, and Wooyoung with San, you were left with Seonghwa. Despite still feeling a bit wary around him, he was nothing but a gentleman. He helped you onto a beautiful black mare with deep, gentle eyes, his movements smooth and elegant, like a prince, as he climbed up in front of you. Your bags were strapped to the side for balance. You had never even sat on a horse before, you wondered how long it would take for you to fall off. Seonghwa glanced back at you, his expression a mystery as usual.

“You can hold on to me,” Seonghwa said in his low voice, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I don’t bite, and we’ll be going quite fast.”

You hesitated, lightly gripping the back of his coat, but he let out an exasperated sigh, reaching back to take your hands and wrap them firmly around his waist. “Keep it tight,” he instructed, with a small lilt in his tone. “We don’t want you falling off just yet.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, feeling your cheeks heat up as you adjusted your grip. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the flush that spread across your face.

With everyone ready, the horses set off, following the masked man and Hongjoong in the lead. The terrain was rough, the path dimly lit only by the full moon above, but the horses and riders moved with ease, as though this was a journey they’d made countless times before. You marvelled at how the men manoeuvred the horses, their motions so natural and in sync with the horses as they navigated the changing landscape at a fast pace.

Although to you, in the dark, every sudden shift or dip felt like you might topple off, and without thinking, you tightened your arms around Seonghwa, pressing yourself closer to his back. You were sure he could feel the thudding of your heartbeat, but he said nothing, simply adjusting the reins and shifting slightly to keep you both steady.

The moonlight cast everything in a soft, silvery glow, but the wildness of the ride kept you tense, your focus on not falling rather than the view. It was only when you felt Seonghwa’s voice rumble low in his chest that you realized he was speaking to you.

“Relax,” he murmured, his tone gentler than you’d heard before. “You’re going to be fine.”

You heeded his words and calmed yourself down a little, and though you still clung tightly, you were able to look up, taking in the beauty around you. The trees loomed like shadows on either side, the air crisp with the scent of pine and earth, and the ocean now far behind, not even a scent of it in the earthy breeze. You loosened up just a little, letting the rhythm of the horse’s strides carry you as the group forged on toward their destination.

The rumbling of hooves finally gave way to silence as you and the others arrived at a farmhouse, just as the sky had begun to lighten with dawn. The sweeping farmhouse before you was surrounded by tall stone walls, with a sprawling farm and livestock area enclosed in the back, as far as your eyes could see. A hefty metal gate swung open to let you pass through on foot, and stable hands waiting close by took the horses from you, leading them toward the stables. The others retrieved their bags, and together, you walked toward the house’s intricately carved wooden doors where a man awaited you.

“Hyung!” Hongjoong called out, hurrying over to the man and engulfing him in a warm hug. You noticed his sunglasses were nowhere to be found.

“It’s been a while, you’ve grown I see” the man chuckled, patting his back. “I trust everyone’s been well?”

He looked over the group, his eyes scanning each face until they landed on you, and his brows raised. You felt yourself shrink back a little, inching behind Seonghwa.

“Who do we have here? A new face?” he asked, his voice warm yet curious.

Hongjoong nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “This is Aurora, our new navigator,” he explained as Seonghwa nudged you forward gently. “Aurora, this is my brother, Bumjoong. We’ll be staying at his place during our visit.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you greeted him with a little bow, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bumjoong broke into a reassuring smile. “No need for formalities. If you’re with these guys, you’re family too.”

You could only offer him a queasy smile at that statement.

“Let’s get inside, then, and get everyone settled,” Bumjoong said, leading the way through the doors.

Inside, the farmhouse was even more expansive than you’d expected, with high ceilings, rustic beams, and warm wooden furniture filling the space. You let out a soft “whoa” as you took in the surroundings, noticing that the others seemed more at ease, now that you were inside. At the entryway, you were greeted by an older man dressed in a crisp suit, whom Bumjoong introduced as Mr. Shin.

“You can all leave your things here, and Mr. Shin will make sure your belongings are taken to the rooms while we have breakfast, I’m sure you’re all famished,” Bumjoong explained before stepping away, “I’ll be in the dining hall,”

The group immediately launched into a discussion about rooming arrangements, seemingly forgetting your presence until you cleared your throat softly.

“Um…where will I go?” you asked, turning all eight heads towards youself.

“Oh, right. We need to make room for you too,” Hongjoong said sheepishly. “There are four guest rooms, three of which sleep two people, and one that fits three. Normally, that one has an extra space, but since we’re all here, it looks like you’ll have to share.”

“Dibs on the three-person room!” Wooyoung called, raising his hand. “Me, San, and Yeosang will take that one.”

“I’ll pair with Jongho,” Mingi added.

You tried to keep the disappointment from your face, realizing that no one had suggested rooming with you yet. Hongjoong, however, quickly took charge.

“Alright, Seonghwa and I will take our usual room, which leaves Yunho with Aurora. Is that alright with you?” he asked, glancing your way.

You nodded, glancing back to find Yunho already looking at you with a small smile. You hadn’t talked to Yunho, since yesterday morning, you had been subconsciously avoiding him to make sure he wouldn’t bring up what had happened before. You hoped this arrangement wouldn’t cause any more awkward situations.

“Alright, then,” Hongjoong confirmed, turning to Mr. Shin. “Please take our things to the rooms.”

The old man bowed, collecting everyone’s bags with practiced efficiency and surprising strength.

“Now, let’s get some food,” Hongjoong declared, leading the way to the dining hall.

The dining room was as homely as the rest of the house, the wooden table set with a mouth watering spread of breakfast foods—freshly baked bread, variations of different egg and meat dishes, fruit, and steaming pots of tea and coffee. You found yourself seated next to Yunho, your stomach rumbling at the sight of the food.

Bumjoong signalled for the kitchen aids to start serving, soon enough your plate was piled spectacularly high with food and you dug in. With a life like this, you wondered why Hongjoong lived like a pirate. As you ate, you found the exhaustion leaving your body, you even joined in the laughter as the guys shared stories of the sea with Bumjoong. Yunho, of course, paid close attention to you, making sure you had enough on your plate and felt comfortable in the loud atmosphere.

“You look less anxious,” he remarked quietly, offering you a warm smile.

You nodded, “It must have been the exhaustion keeping me on edge,” you replied, savoring a bite of fluffy omurice. “It’s nice to be off the ship for a bit.”

After a satisfying meal, Bumjoong stood, clapping his hands. “Alright, make yourselves at home. We’ll be heading into town soon enough, but in the meantime, rest up or explore. It’s not every day you’re grounded here, after all.” Yunho had mixed feelings about that, he felt the most at home on the ship, even after all this time.

With everyone scattering to their rooms or settling into the common room, you decided it was the perfect time to explore. The farmhouse was certainly alluring—spacious, well-built, and grand without feeling gaudy. Starting on the ground floor, you roamed through the expansive kitchen, the dining hall, and a cosy common room where some of the crew lounged, chatting lazily. On the first floor, you discovered three bedrooms—one master bedroom with an attached bath and two double bedrooms with a shared bathroom in the hall. Above that, the second floor housed two more bedrooms—a triple-sharing room and a double-sharing, along with a library and a study. You were struck by how thoughtfully designed the house was, and you hoped you’d get a chance to explore the never ending outdoor grounds someday, too.

Finally, you got to having the shower you’d been craving since you set foot on land. You gathered up your toiletries and a fresh set of towels provided by the staff, making your way to the shared bathroom on the first floor. It was a quaintly decorated space, with a large, inviting bathtub at the centre, surrounded by shelves lined with a variety of soaps, shampoos, and bath salts. Just how rich were these people, you weren’t used to having such luxuries available so easily and for free at that.

After a bit of fumbling with the ornate taps, you managed to draw yourself a warm, fragrant bubble bath. Slipping out of your travel-worn clothes, you eased into the bath, letting the warm water melt away every ache. You washed your hair, scrubbed away the grime, and felt yourself sinking deeper into the pillow of relaxation Finally, you stepped out, drying off and wrapping a towel around yourself, with a second one around your damp hair. As you scanned the bathroom for your fresh clothes, your stomach dropped—you’d left them in your room.

Sighing at your own mistake, you edged into the hallway, hoping the coast would be clear for the quick dash to your room. Just as you stepped out, though, you collided into something—someone, to be exact. You looked up to find Seonghwa standing before you, his eyes widening at the sight. His shirt was open, his perfectly sculpted torso right in front of you, and he looked like he’d just been on his way to shower himself. The air was thick as you fought the urge to let your gaze leave his eyes and travel further away.

Before either of you could speak, Seonghwa shrugged off his shirt and draped it over your shoulders, quickly fastening the top button by your collarbone. “Be careful,” he murmured offhandedly, his voice low. “You can’t be wandering around in just a towel.”

Your face flushed at his words, and you mumbled a soft “thank you,” locking your gaze on the floor. Seonghwa gave a small nod and slipped past you into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. You made your way quickly back to your room, glad that no one else caught you, and that Yunho hadn’t returned to the room yet.

Inside the bathroom, Seonghwa let out a shaky breath as he leaned against the sink, trying to compose himself. The moment was replaying in his mind—the way you’d looked so innocently at him, with your big eyes and the teasing drops of water trailing down your neck and disappearing beneath the towel you clutched to your chest. He felt his own face heat up as he tried to push the memory aside.

Taking a cold shower was probably a good idea right about now, Seonghwa thought, letting the icy water shock him out of his flustered state. Meanwhile, you were in your room, practically jumping into your clothes. Embarrassed was an understatement; you couldn’t believe how nonchalantly Seonghwa had reacted, as if seeing you in a towel was just another everyday event for him. Now, not only was being around Yunho already a little awkward, but now you could add Seonghwa to that list of complications.

You stared at yourself down in the mirror, forcing the flush on your cheeks to fade. “Just act normal,” you whispered to yourself, giving your reflection a firm nod. Fixing your appearance one last time, you headed downstairs and took a seat beside Yeosang, who gave you a small smile. You made some polite small talk, asking about his day and listening as he spoke about the journey and how glad he was to be on land again. His voice was gentle, helping you pass the time while the rest of the group assembled.

Once everyone was settled, Bumjoong addressed the room. "Hongjoong’s already updated me on the situation and the plan," he began, hands clasped together. "Each group will have an assigned servant to accompany them for assistance, except for San and Aurora, to avoid any additional suspicion. Now, let's go over each team’s role and objective."

Hongjoong took over, “Right, so our first team to dispatch will be Yeosang and Wooyoung.” He motioned to them. “Your job is to follow Myung Seokchul, the lawyer…our target. He’s in his early forties, lives alone since his wife passed due to an illness that swept through the southern part of the island a few years ago.”

At the mention of the disease, you noticed both Hongjoong and Bumjoong’s faces darken a little. There was clearly a history there.

After a pause, Hongjoong continued. “Apart from this basic information, we don’t have much on him, except for a distinct scar that runs from his left temple down to his chin. That’s his main identifying feature.”

Wooyoung let out a small scoff, adjusting the old ascot hat he’d donned as part of his disguise. “I can’t wait to see this guy. Sounds like a real charmer.”

Yeosang shot him an unimpressed look,“Don’t forget we’re just tailing him, Wooyoung. Let’s keep this smooth and unnoticed. The last thing we need is to get on his radar before we understand his movements.”

Wooyoung shrugged, but the glint in his eye betrayed his excitement. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep my distance—promise,” he said, smirking behind the dull brown cloth he’d drawn over the lower half of his face. “Though, I can’t say I’m not looking forward to playing the part of the humble farmer.”

Yeosang sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “If you get us caught, I’ll personally see to it that you’ll be the one taking care of the goats in the morning.”

“Relax, Yeosang,” Wooyoung replied, patting his shoulder with a grin. “If anything, I’m here to make you look even more convincing. You’ll thank me later.”

Hongjoong cut in, exasperated, before Yeosang could retort, “Alright, you two, enough bickering. Remember, this is a low-profile mission. Blend in, observe, and come back with any useful information.”

“Yes, Captain,” Yeosang said firmly, his gaze returning to Hongjoong. Wooyoung gave a mock salute before the two of them turned and made their way to the door.

You watched them go, Wooyoung tossing a wink over his shoulder as Yeosang tugged him along. “Wish us luck,” Wooyoung called out with a confident grin.

“Just don’t blow our cover,” San replied, rolling his eyes, but with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Alright, as for the rest of you,” Bumjoong said, nodding for Hongjoong to continue.

Hongjoong clasped his hands and directed his gaze to you and the others. “The next group to leave will be Jongho, Yunho, Mingi, San, and Aurora. You’ll head to the marketplace. Once there, we’ll split into two smaller teams: Jongho and Mingi will handle restocking the ship’s supplies, while Yunho and San will take Aurora to pick up whatever essentials she might need for her time onboard. Regroup here by 3 PM. After that, we’ll proceed as planned.”

Everyone nodded, gathering things they would need. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were to remain at the farmhouse to prepare a room for their ‘guest’ in the evening. But before that, they had something else to confirm.

Once the rest of you departed, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Bumjoong moved back into the library, the heavy wooden door creaking shut behind them. Bumjoong turned to Hongjoong, looking grave. “Are you sure it’s her?” he asked, voice teetering on uncertainty.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Hongjoong replied. He paused before adding, “Are you still in contact with Mr. Hwang from the public library?”

“Well of course,” Bumjoong replied thoughtfully. “He helped us quite a bit back in the day. He retired a few years back, though. You think he might know something?”

“He was part of the Guardian’s Guild here for a while, till their ideas changed. He might know what she looks like. We need to meet with him urgently,” Seonghwa said.

Bumjoong nodded, reaching for a bell to call for Jihye. “He lives nearby. I’ll send Jihye with you—she’s close with his granddaughter.”

A few minutes later, Jihye entered, she was a stable hand at the estate. After Bumjoong explained the situation, she nodded, an three set off toward Mr. Hwang’s humble cottage without delay.

Mr. Hwang’s “cottage” was anything but humble. After a ten-minute walk from the farmhouse, they stood before a grand, albeit slightly worn, manor nestled amidst tall trees and overgrown thickets. Though smaller than the Kim estate, it was still impressively lavish, with ivy trailing up the stone walls and stained-glass windows that gleamed in the sunlight.

Jihye stepped up to the door, rapping her hand against the wood. A servant opened it and regarded the trio with mild curiosity before Jihye explained their visit and the urgent need to speak with Mr. Hwang. The door closed again for a bit, then servant came back, ushering them inside and leading them down a corridor toward Mr. Hwang’s study.

The man himself sat behind a large, carved desk, spectacles perched on his nose as he pored over a large leather-bound volume. He looked up as they entered, a small, welcoming smile gracing his face.

“Hongjoong, Seonghwa, it’s been a long time,” he said warmly, setting his book aside. “What brings you here today?”

Hongjoong wasted no time. “Mr. Hwang, we need your expertise on a very particular matter.”

The old man leaned forward, his expression shifting to one of interest. “Of course, son. How can I assist?”

Hongjoong drew in a breath, and removed his sunglasses, looking at the old man with intensity. “We’re searching for someone—a young woman, we believe she’s connected to something the Guardians were once involved in, if you’re catching my drift.”

Mr. Hwang’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean…the World Z Project?”

Hongjoong nodded. “So you’re aware of what we speak of. I remember you telling us about this ‘legendary scientist’ when we were kids. She was your best friend at the facility, wasn’t she?”

A distant look clouded Mr. Hwang’s face. “Yes, Lee Junhee. She endured so much, only to be cast aside after her greatest discovery. The Guardians discarded her once they had what they wanted. They might have even killed her, but we managed to escape. She passed away a few years back… But if you’re saying it’s her you’ve found—”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Not her. We heard about her passing from Haneul noona. Her Guild has been keeping tabs on the older Guardians. We think it’s her granddaughter—a young woman around our age. We brought her aboard as a navigator, and while she hasn’t shown any unusual abilities yet, there may be something neither she nor we fully understand. Her name’s Aurora.”

Mr. Hwang’s eyes widened in realization. “Little Aurora… Of course! How could I forget?” He rose shakily, leaning on his cane as he shuffled toward a nearby shelf, pulling out a dusty leather book. He flipped through it carefully and retrieved an old photograph, handing it to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. “This picture… Junhee once told me her granddaughter was exceptionally bright beyond her years, though quite timid. It’s a few years old, but she should still be recognizable.”

Hongjoong took the photograph, examining the face of a young Aurora, likely about twenty. She looked younger, happier, her features still touched with traces of adolescence, but it was undoubtedly her.

“Hwa,” Hongjoong whispered, elation laced his voice, “it’s her. We’ve found her. We finally have the link to that damn map.”

Seonghwa’s tense expression softened, furrowed brows relaxing. They had a real lead after six years of relentless searching.

Mr. Hwang looked at them both, he wasn’t entirely sure, what all this was for, but he still prayed in their support. “I hope she is everything Junhee hoped she would be… You have my best wishes. Go, and be careful.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa rose, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Mr. Hwang. We can’t express how grateful we are for your help,” Hongjoong said.

The older man simply nodded, waving them off with a knowing look in his eyes as they turned to leave. They exited the manor with Jihye, who led them back to the Kim estate. Once back, they reconvened with Bumjoong, who listened intently as they shared everything Mr. Hwang had told them, fixing the pieces for the final puzzle. But before they could settle down completely, a loud, frantic voice echoed through the hall.

San burst into the house, his face pale and drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he stumbled forward. “Aurora, she’s gone!” he shouted, falling to his knees, utterly defeated. “The others are still searching, but… we can’t find her.” His voice cracked with panic and frustration.

“What?” Hongjoong’s eyes widened, and he shot up from his seat. He quickly approached San, Seonghwa close behind. “San, what happened?”

San looked up, his face stricken. “We were at the dressmaker’s. She went behind some curtains to have her measurements taken, and then she was just… gone. I was right there, and Yunho was with us too, I swear!” His voice wavered as he struggled to hold back tears.

Seonghwa placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, his voice low and calm. “Take a deep breath, San. We’ll find her; we have to.”

Hongjoong’s expression hardened, the calm before a storm brewing in his gaze. “San, take us to the others. Lead the way.”

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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[cheolism]

for you, the world

seungcheol x gn! reader

summary: feeling as though seungcheol's feelings towards you had changed, you confront him.

wc is approx 2.4k

genre: angst and comfort. idol au.

warning/notes: a reference to the feeling of being choked. depression and anxiety from both cheol and the reader. mentions of depression and anxiety. serious discussions of feelings, feeling vulnerable, being honest even though it's scary.

request: how do you think scoups reacts when the love of his life asks him to love her more than she loves him

author: i realized you wanted a reaction and not a oneshot too late!!! but here's the requested reaction

You were twisting your hands, wringing your fingers and scraping your nails against your skin. You refused to look at Seungcheol, staring at his feet where he still wore the sneakers he had hurriedly put on before going to practice that day, having had no time to do much else after waking up late.

It wasn't hard to see the weariness on your face, not when you held your body away from him, as if he was a stranger you were about to bare your heart to and not the man you've been dating for four years.

You were wearing mismatched socks. Your sweats were uneven, one leg having rolled up to your knee and the other bunched loosely around your ankle. The hoodie was his, and Seungcheol knew that if he were to press closer he would be able to smell his cologne.

"Baby," Seungcheol began, hesitant.

You shook your head roughly, cutting him off. "Wait. Let me get all this out first. I'm trying, Cheol, it's just -- it's hard."

He nodded. Seungcheol smoothed his hands over his pants, trying to rub off the sweat that had begun to collect there. He would be lying if he ever tried to say he wasn't an anxious person, but concerning your relationship? Seungcheol always thought navigating your relationship was like sailing a under the brilliant sun, using its brightness as a guide.

But all of a sudden he felt as if the sun had given to darkness and rain, thunderclouds cracking overhead and stirring the sea; he was in uncharted territory, and he felt as if time was beginning to work against him.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, composing yourself. "I'm just -- it's hard. Being honest. Not in the way that people think. If someone asks me my opinion on something I'll give it, but this. Being honest like this is hard."

That's what Seungcheol liked about you. You were honest. It dripped off of you just like your sweetness did, just as thick as honey. You were honest with your words, but with your expressions moreso. More than once, when Seungcheol pointed out a certain look or expression you got, you would explain that your face was your weakness; even if you had ever managed to tell a lie, your face would give it away.

But this honesty, the honesty you were trying to give to Seungcheol, was different. It wasn't telling Minghao that his brightly colored outfit wasn't coordinated, no matter how Minghao would try to convince you otherwise. It wasn't your look of disgust when Mingyu tells a joke that doesn't land.

It was the honesty of taking your soul out of your chest and revealing it. It was showing someone the deepest, darkest thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind, in hidden corners that no sunshine could ever reach.

It was, Seungcheol knew, the same honesty that had him calling you at three in the morning, sobbing, as he felt his depression grip him around the throat and squeeze to the point of no return.

So he was still and silent, observing you. Letting you speak.

"I think --" you tried once, twice, voice and heart rebelling against one another. "I feel. I feel, wrongly, horribly, that -- that you don't love me anymore."

For a moment Seungcheol didn't understand what you were saying. It was like when someone suddenly speaks about something that happened long ago, a veil of fog over the memory before it was revealed.

But then the accusation filtered through his ears, through the fog. It pierced through his brain and landed in his heart, digging into it, puncturing.

He opened his mouth immediately to protest. Seungcheol loved you. He loved you.

When he was younger and still bright-eyed, when he sang about first loves and flower paths, when it felt like it was him and his members against the world, Seungcheol hadn't really taken much stock in the words he sang. They were words that Jihoon so eloquently wrote, each holding the considerable weight of their future success and whether it was worth it -- whether Seventeen was worth it. But they were words.

But then he met you, dated you, fell in love with you. And he understood what it meant when they sang about feeling clumsiness around a crush, when he had the irresistible urge to tell you about his adoration for you. Every single word he ever rapped or sang seemed to have made sense. Every single word, from the first ever song to now, was for you. It was all for you, even if he didn't know it at the time.

And now --

Now you were saying --

"I know -- I know what you'll say," you rushed on, having seen his bewildered look. "I know it. Seungcheol, I know you love me. I know it. I know, I know, I know.

"But at the same time --" Your voice cracked, and you turned your head sharply. Your arms moved to cradle yourself, squeezing your shoulders. "At the same time I have this voice. This thought. And of course I was able to ignore it, for the longest time I did. But now --"

Seungcheol watched as you took one deep breath, lungs filling. You held it for three seconds; released. You did this twice more, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders rising and lowering.

He immediately recognized it as something he taught you. He had researched ways to soothe oneself and had stumbled upon this breathing technique. Seungcheol remembered your wide eyes as you looked up at him, awed with how well it worked.

"Now," you said, voice calmer. You still didn't look at him. "Now it's like you don't even want to be around. Around me. You get home late from practice, getting stuff to eat with the guys after. And that's fine! Of course it's fine for you to hang out with them, of course it's fine for you to hang out with your friends. I'm not saying that. I'm not.

"But you come home late, past the time I can stay up because of work. And then I wake up and you're still asleep. And on the weekends you wake late, because you're exhausted, of course. But you wake up late and have no time for anything other than a shower and a meal before you go running off to practice. And it repeats."

You reached up, rubbing at your nose. You had been crying, Seungcheol realized. "Or you go and hang out at Hybe with the boys. And I can't go there. You know that. Or hang out with them and their friends, their expensive and shiny friends, and you know how I am with strangers. You know what it's like to be the only dull thing in a room of shining people."

And he did. Fuck, he did.

"You don't even text me," you cried, your voice finally giving out. Your hands went to your cheeks, furiously rubbing. Seungcheol wanted to cross the room to you in that instant, to take you into his arms and press kisses to your forehead and tell you to save it, that surely this conversation could wait for another day.

But he knew it couldn't.

Not when you were crying over it, not when it was so obviously driving you to exhaustion worrying about it.

"I text you all the time. I text you about every single fucking thing that makes me laugh or smile because I think it'll make you happy. I tell you about whatever dog I see, about whatever kid I see running about. And you just -- you don't even respond.

"And I know the messages usually aren't about anything important. But I just -- you can't even acknowledge it?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. But it was no use. You were sobbing. You were sobbing like your heart was breaking, and Seungcheol knew his was.

"It's like you won't even acknowledge me," you sobbed, chest heaving. "You won't even look at me, it feels like!

"Seungcheol," you slapped a hand over your mouth. You weren't even stopping your tears now, not even wiping them away. It was just as bad as seeing you trying to hide them, Seungcheol thought.

It was like you were giving up.

"Seungcheol," you began again, voice thick, "why can you love me like I love you? Why can't you love me just even a fraction more than I love you?"

It was like you had been preparing him for the plunge. You put him in lukewarm weather, then cold. Each and every word of yours was preparing Seungcheol, was giving way to some horrible truth that was clawing out of the back of your mind, leaving its dark corner. But then you picked him up out of that cold water and plunged him into Arctic water, the temperature shocking him and electrifying his body.

Because nothing, nothing, could ever prepare him for that.

There were a few things Seungcheol couldn't imagine you ever saying. He couldn't imagine you ever saying that apple juice was better than orange; that football was better than basketball. Just like he never, ever, could have imagined you saying that you doubted his love for you.

It was like you and Seungcheol were standing in the rain. It was soaking your clothes, making your hair cling to your head. There was no sun, it being hidden by thick dark rain clouds. Both of you could hear the rain smacking against the pavement.

But, nonetheless, you were turning to him and saying how you liked bright and sunny days like this one.

Then, Seungcheol realized, the two of you weren't just standing in the rain. He was being pelted with it, his love so obvious for you that it seeped into his clothes and in his very being. But, even though you were standing beside him, you were holding an umbrella, protected from the rain.

You were quiet in front of him, shrinking back into yourself. You were turning your shoulders from him, clutching at your elbows as you hugged yourself. Still you were hiding your eyes from his. "I'm sorry, Cheol. I know it's ridic --"

Unable to help himself, Seungcheol was shooting off the couch. Your body was in his arms before he really realized what he was doing. He was pressing your body into his, feeling your elbows awkwardly dig into his chest, your face dig into his collar. Almost instantly your tears were soaking his shirt.

"Listen," he started, voice thick and stern. "Listen to me, baby. I have spent every day of the past three and a half years loving you. I have loved you through some of the worst fucking days of my life."

Seungcheol pulled away, his hands going to your cheeks. He wiped at your tears, your eyes shining from them. You sniffled; he echoed it.

When had he stared crying?'

"You listen to me," he said, feeling his jaw clench. He didn't let you look away, turning your face to keep his eyes trained on yours. "I have loved you even when I hated myself. Even when I didn't know how I could love anyone or anything, I loved you.

"I loved you when you showed up for our sixth month anniversary wearing that cute smile and the little cherry earrings. Remember them? I loved you when you took me to meet your grandparents, loved you when I brought you to mine and my grandpa couldn't believe how I managed to find someone as sweet and kind and clever as you to call my own.

"I loved you when you got Josh to teach you how to make bracelets so you could make one for me. I loved you when you sat with Jeonghan and made me that silly Lego flower set. I loved you when you stayed up far-too-fucking-late to FaceTime me on tour. I loved you when you got me that silly little fucking bear at the Airport Giftshop for way to much money just because you said it reminded you of me.

"I loved you when I did nothing but sit in the dark. When you would show up with food and love and just hold me.

"That doesn't just go away," Seungcheol breathed, blinking to try and see you through his tears. "I've always loved you. Always. Nothing can change that."

You burrowed into him, your hands clinging to his shirt. Seungcheol squashed you against him, feeling as if even a centimeter of space between the two of you was too much.

"I'm sorry." He licked his lips, pressing his eyes shut and laying his head on top of yours. "I'm so fucking sorry. You should never, ever, feel as if I don't love you. As if I won't fucking climb Mount Everest naked for you. As if I wouldn't give everything I am to be the one privileged enough to spend the rest of my life beside you.

"You are so important," he said. "You are so important. To me, to the members, to your family. To my family. To every single fucking person you've ever met. You are worth so much more than I could ever give. But I will spend the rest of my life giving, giving you my love and adoration."

You nodded against his chest. The two of you stood there in the dim light of your living room, arms wrapped around one another. Seungcheol sighed, squeezing you.

"I will send you texts every fucking minute of every hour," he vowed, as if such a thing could mend your broken heart and erase the past hour of tears. "I'll send every bird, dog, cat, mouse -- everything. I'll make you show up to every after-practice dinner. I'll drag you out of the apartment in pajamas if I have to. I'll wake up bright and early and make you a gourmet breakfast."

"No, you won't."

Seungcheol laughed weakly. "You're right. I can try, though." "I'll appreciate whatever you give me," you murmured into his clothes, voice still small and weak from crying. "Even a bowl of cereal."

But you didn't deserve a bowl of cereal, Seungcheol thought. You didn't deserve a text every minute, didn't deserve a picture of every fucking animal on Earth. You didn't deserve dinners after midnight, didn't deserve omelets or bacon or sausage.

You deserved the world.

And Seungcheol would spend the rest of his life giving it to you.

[follows-the-bees]

I saw complaining how Ed and Stede don't treat Zheng right in the finale. And I want to walk through that journey and counter that.

First, Stede and Zheng are by themselves after escaping the cannonball. Zheng gets visibly upset, though turned away from Stede to hide her emotions, and he offers the only physical touch we see outside Ed to Zheng; tries to comfort her about what happened, her fleets getting blown up and then death of many pirates. Yes, it may be misplaced at the moment (and his words), Zheng doesn't want it, but he is offering what he has learned throughout the journey of the show: physical comfort.

Next, Zheng and Stede fight side by side on the beach. And when Stede sees Ed, Zheng tells him to go to him. They fight to get to each other and spend just enough time to get two quick kisses and about twenty words in; all together it's only about 30 seconds of time.

Ed has no idea who Zheng is, who knows if he even saw her before the moment she yells out to them again. He thought Stede was dead and was fighting the British "for Stede!" His priority is getting to tell Stede how he actually feels, that he loves him, the words barely escaping his lips before theirs even separate. This is a romantic comedy, so of course there is going to be a big declaration of love amid a near-death incident.

When Zheng calls for help, Ed asks who is that? (reminding us that he has no idea who Zheng is.) Stede explains and then together they run to go join and help Zheng.

We cut to the aftermath of the battle on the beach. The entire time the three of them are getting along, giggling and complimenting each other. What's the phrase: the best/lasting bonds are formed in battle? But anyway, no hate is shown here, only the trio getting along.

The three of them then fight to get the crew back, joking that it's pretty much a death sentence. But Spanish Jackie is a badass and already had the situation handled.

They all once again do another fuckery to escape: together. And Zheng and Auntie ask Ed (and Stede) to come with them on their hunt for Ricky. Friends may be a stretch at this point, but they are allies, appreciate each other's strengths and recognize they have a common enemy as well as journey in piracy. Zheng and Auntie sail away on the Revenge.with the rest of the crew. They are now the crew.

To counter the points I've seen about why Zheng isn't captain at the end, we gotta remember that Ed and Zheng are parallels. They are strong pirate captains who are forced into the old way of piracy: the toxicity. Both of their journeys are about being able to be their true selves, to allow their inner softness to emerge while keeping that badassness that made them the pirate captains they are. She's just lost her fleet, and I think it's perfectly in line with her journey to take a minute, something she could never do before to be among the crew, with Auntie, and he love interest(s?). Just like Ed is currently doing with Stede, taking a break from piracy and being a captain.

Zheng losing her fleet is heartbreaking, and it is supposed to be. And it's also a commentary on how Zheng's armada is just the other side of the coin of the British Empire. Her fleet is a totalitarian armada with the philosophy the old way of piracy: join us or die. It is what made Zheng a great Pirate Queen, but her journey is more than that, it's also about being a human, and as the show shows us time and time again, the traditional ways of piracy do not allow captains that humanity; it stifles it.

The end of Act || of the show is the destruction of the Golden Age of Piracy, which we see through Izzy's death, and the state of piracy and more specifically The Republic of Pirates.

I think Zheng's story is beautiful and I would have loved to see how it continued in season three.

[topherwrites]

SNOWFLAKES IN MY STOMACH WHEN WE'RE KISSING

summary - spending the holidays with jake's family isn't always smooth sailing, but little else matters when you're grossly in love. (also - jake dresses up as santa for his nieces and nephews, you're real into it.) pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader word count - 2.7k rating - nsfw content, 18+, mdni! content warnings & tags - no use of (y/n) / mostly fluff / jake being super in love / jake's family celebrates christmas / very brief angst / me being incapable of giving jake a good childhood / brief mention of childhood abuse / swearing / alcohol consumption / dash of smut / fingering / lmk if i missed anything! a/n: a little belated christmas one shot for you all. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated! TOP GUN MASTERLIST / LIBRARY BLOG

Heat audibly blasts through the vents, the entire house sweltering. A solid summer day indoors. His mother won’t even let anyone touch the thermostat. In her defense, she grew up without a lick of snow on the ground and now it’s fifteen degrees in December, a real white Christmas.

Which isn’t exactly ideal for Jake considering he’s been roped into wearing a Santa suit for his young nieces and nephews. The suit is all red polyester—the least breathable material known to man—and thick faux fur cuffs. It’s causing him to start perspiring where sweat simply shouldn't be, his white undershirt clinging to his back and his crack.

“It’s too goddamn hot in this thing.”

Unbuttoning the jacket, he airs it out, the relief near immediate. 

Over his shoulder, he catches sight of you lounging on the guest bed—the one his mother oddly insisted that you could share—odd because that’s been a hard and fast rule for all the non-married seresin kids since his older sister began dating.

When she’d pointed him to the room, he’d paused, waiting for her to tell him which room would be yours, separately. Exactly like the sole previous time a girlfriend had stayed the night, way back in college, he figured you’d be placed in the room past his parents so no premarital shenanigans would occur. When that moment didn’t come, he’d stood there stupefied till you bumped his hip, nodding in the direction of the room.

Then he found out that with his brother and sister, their spouses and kids, and a few stray cousins and aunts staying, every other room was already occupied tenfold when he showed up with you in tow. 

He wasn’t sure if he would actually come down until a few days before, on the fence about spending so much time packed together with his family. But you’d volunteered to go along with him, meeting everyone besides his mother for the first time. Offering yourself up as a buffer.

It gives him pause less and less, just how much you care about him. Warmth spreads through him at the memory.

He was thankful that you had a bunch of airline credit banked, otherwise booking so late during the peak holiday season flights would’ve cost an arm and a leg.

Your feet kick back and forth as your eyes drag up his back, not put off in the slightest by his melting-like-frosty-the-snowman state, meeting his gaze with a heat you don’t attempt to hide. His irritation at the outfit dispels at your attention, melting away into something far sweeter.

“Is this doing it for you?”

“Oh,” your voice strained, “yeah, absolutely.”

And while there’s a bit of humor to the whole situation, what with the whole ‘being dressed as Old Saint Nick’ thing, your attraction to him isn’t a joke in the slightest. Sweaty, sunburned, exhausted. You seem to take a liking to any form Jake comes in. 

You continue, twirling your finger in a slow, instructive circle, humor alighting in your eyes, “Do a little twirl for me, baby.”

He laughs but gives in to your borderline indecent direction, turning steadily on his heel. He does a slow three-sixty, letting the jacket fall to his waist so your eyes can freely roam. Turning back to you, he takes you in the sight of you before he closes the gap, crawling over you to give you a kiss.

Things are so simple with you, you never make him work for your affection, it’s always present, even in your teasing. He doesn’t feel that pang of being inadequate that his father instilled in him when he was young—the pang that he let drive him for far too long into his adulthood. He can breathe right around you, loosen his tongue, soften his words. He can be a good man, not just a good pilot.

He loves you. You love him. Everything is right in the world.

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The kids love the whole theatrics of him dressing up like Santa, faux beard, and all. He answers their inquiries into whether or not he’s their uncle Jake with a falsely grandiose tone, handing them their presents—you’re not sure if they fully buy into it, but they all seem to be having fun.

Sipping on a mug of coffee, warm in your palms, you watch him from afar as he juggles holding two of his nieces, one dangling off of his arm like it's a monkey bar and the other calmly being held on his hip.

Ainsley and Avery—without judgment, you wonder what the reasoning is to name all your kids with the same first letter, like Pokemon evolutions.

“He’s always been good with them. Kids.”

Ah, the dreaded (potential) future mother-in-law ambushing you about kids part of the day. You had that penciled in for sometime around… now, generally. You look over at her. She looks back at you with a familiar glint in her eye. God, Jake looks just like her, same straight nose and dimpled smile and hooded eyes.

Mae doesn’t mean any ill will. You’re aware. But it all still settles ominously on your shoulders. The breadth of the unknown, what the future could hold, kids or not—whether or not you and Jake will even get that far, you hope so.

You nod slowly, calmly noting, “That’s not surprising.”

You see the way he is with them, how much they adore him. It’s a nice picture. But you're both still undecided on whether that’s one that you want of your own.

She seems to detect that you’re not going to humor her about the subject, dropping it. She looks at your empty mug, “Do you want a refill?”

────────────────────────

You casually gesture to the sprig taped to the doorjamb above you, “Is that what you were up to earlier?”

You note the little red berries, the toothed leaves, and the bush-like appearance.

“Maybe.” With a self-satisfied smile, he shrugs. His large palms grip at your waist, gently pushing you against the doorway.

You scratch at your cheek. “You know that’s not mistletoe, right?”

Holly. It's a frequent mistake, mostly from movies that wanted something to hang with a little more visual pop than actual mistletoe. He sighs, head falling back as he glares up at the traitorous plant. You’d never pass up the chance to poke a little fun at him, but now you want to bring the smile back to his face.

You poke at his side, bringing those pretty green eyes back to you, “But I suppose I can spare a kiss regardless.”

A smile creeps onto his face, warmth clear in his gaze. He leans his weight into you, not enough to crush but enough to let you feel all of him. Tilting his head, his voice drops as he questions, “Oh, will you make an exception? Bend the rules? For little ‘ol me?”

Breathing the same air, his nose nearly brushes yours. Everything but him, every sound and sight is extraneous—it all just turns to static.

You hum in agreement, “For you.” You brush the pads of your fingers along his cheekbone,  intentionally gentle, enjoying the way his lashes flutter at the gesture. “Now give me a kiss.”

Like the ever-dutiful soldier he is, he dips his head in assent, “Yes, ma’am.”

He takes the green light, gently molding his mouth to yours.

────────────────────────

His sixteen-year-old nephew, Sam, heckles him across the dinner table, quietly calling him a “fucking simp” as he hands you a refill of eggnog with a quick peck—that becomes two or three at his insistence, his lips chasing yours. His tone isn’t cruel, just an attempt at embarrassing his uncle.

He gets a smack upside the head from his dad—Jake’s older brother, Matt—for the language at the table, quick and sharp. Recycled material from their own childhoods. He tries to suppress the instinctual flinch, annoyance burning in his chest at how years later his heart is still sent racing. Jake wonders if he too, will become like their father. If it’s unavoidable. Something built into him. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with his brother.

He knows that he has the capacity for cruelty in him and though it doesn't come as quickly these days, he still has to make an active effort to not be a dick sometimes, especially with Bradshaw.

And then, a hand, warm and stabilizing, slides across his thigh, squeezing tenderly. His eyes bounce around the table, everyone pointedly looking at their plates, just like when they were young and his father thought that one of them needed corporal punishment for acting like a kid. 

Except for you, whose eyes are focused on Jake with so much understanding that he can’t help but knock his boot into his brothers.

“Don't do that shit.”

A tense moment follows. The clatter of forks stop, drinks pause at lips, and everyone’s eyes plant on him, perplexed that it’s been acknowledged in the slightest. Matt levels a stare back at him, and he wonders if he’s going to hear their dad’s signature line come out of his brother’s mouth—don’t tell me how to discipline my kids—leveled at anyone who ever expressed concern for the way their father treated them, teachers, other parents, their own mom.

His brother is the one to blink first, dropping his eyes down to his plate as he stabs at a piece of asparagus. The festivities resume around them. Quieter. 

It’s not a real acknowledgment. But he’s drawn a line in the sand.

Sam continues looking at him for a few more moments. He wonders if his nephew knows just how similar their childhoods were, why his father is the way that he is. Not that it would make it better, but it might help him to know that it’s not him, some fault of his own. 

Jake always thought that it was him. He knows a little better now.

────────────────────────

After all the kids have been bundled up in beds and the adults break out the liquor, it doesn't take long for Jake to crash. Sprawled on the couch next to you, his arm draped around your shoulder becomes less of a pleasant weight and more of a log hanging around your neck. 

You tap his stomach, softer and less-toned after the holidays—at your insistence that he actually eats some sugar for once and doesn’t, under any circumstances, wake you up at five am during your vacation so he can go for a run. You’re glad that he’s taken the threat seriously, that he’s taking it easy and actually relaxing while you’re here. He grumbles at your touch but barely stirs, about eighty percent tired, twenty-percent drunk.

“Christ, when did he become such a lightweight?” His brother directs his jibe disguised as a question to you.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, standing up. You pat his thigh, holding your hands out. “Up and at ‘em, lieutenant.”

His eyes peel open at the use of his rank. Blinking awake, he flops his hands into yours, not taking a strong grip. You're thankful for the fact that he barely relies on you to help himself stand, swaying minorly as he does so. You’re not particularly eager to see what’d happen if you had to haul all two hundred pounds of Jake upright on your own.

You both trod up the stairs. His hand caressing the silver tinsel wrapped around the banister as you go, the Christmas lights hung from it setting the staircase in a warm glow. With your arm looped around his waist and his looped around yours, you make slow progress towards the room at the end of the hall.

He toes off his boots as you shut the door to the bedroom, flopping backward onto the bed. Eyes fluttering sleepily, a hint of a smile on his face, he sighs out a breath. Voicing his inner thoughts aloud, his voice is gentle, “I'm so happy.”

The statement settles sweetly in the air.

Taking hold of your hand, he pulls you on top of him. His eyes heavy, he isn’t particularly conscientious about where you’re going to land, so you have to catch yourself before you knee him in the dick. Straddling him, you find your place in his lap. Affection, as it always does, blooms in your chest at the sight of him.

“Are you as happy as I am?” His question is gently curious, none of his old insecurity laced through.

You slowly nod, hands smoothing over his chest as you lean over him. “Yeah, I really am.”

Under your palms, you can feel him huff a pleased sigh.

Large hands land on your thighs, smoothing up and down the bare skin under the hem of your skirt. His eyes roam over your figure, from your legs, your waist, your chest, finally landing on your face, “You look so pretty. Have I told you that?”

Suppressing your smile, you squint as you tilt your head, imitating deep thought. You hum, “Mm, about twenty times today.”

“I think you could stand to hear it one more time.” He sits up on his elbows with surprising swiftness, his nose brushing along your cheek before his lips settle next to your ear, “You are so pretty.”

He pulls back just enough to kiss you, lips gliding softly over yours. He tastes like rum and vanilla. Under you, you feel him grow half hard. It’s one of the things that you never really expected from him, just how needy of a drunk he is.

He slips his tongue into your mouth, large palms squeezing at your hips as he guides you to rock over him. His breaths mingle with your own as he pulls back, panting, “You wet for me?”

Rucking up your skirt past your hips, his hand slips into your underwear and he swipes two fingers through the wetness collected there before you can—for the sake of his sleep schedule—gently turn him down. You fold over him, smothering your moan into his shoulder as he pushes in, his palm immediately harshly grinding against your clit. With your own buzz sliding through your body, you melt into the pleasure, task entirely forgotten. 

Burning heat spreads through your core, your cunt clamping down around his fingers. It’s so good—it’s always this way, like he’s read the manual on your body.  Slick sounds echo in the otherwise quiet room; your gut twists, high building.

Just as you're about to fall over the edge his movements slow, and the peak he was working you to begins to dissipate. But you're left on the edge as his brain seems to intermittently connect to its previous task, working over your pulsing clit. Your hips kick into his palm, the not quite enough stimulation tortuous. You try to roll off of him, but the arm around your back stays put. He grumbles for a moment. You nearly yelp at a shift of his palm shoots electricity up your spine.

You shake his shoulder, “Jake, Jake.”

“Mm,” he hums, “no, no.” He blinks himself only half-awake, eyes still drooping, “Second wind.”

You reach behind your back, sliding his arm from around you, pressing it to his chest. You draw his hand out from under you, the drag of his fingers sending waves of heat through you. Pressing a kiss under his jaw, you whisper, “Go to sleep.”

Eyes still closed he slides the fingers that were just inside you past his lips, casually cleaning your arousal off them. You have to pretend like that doesn't make your cunt pulse with need. He rolls onto his side, then mumbles into the pillow, “Fine, but I’m going to rock your world in the morning.”

You pat his stomach, placating him—sure that in the morning he’ll remember that he’s surrounded by his parents, siblings, and their offspring, that the walls are a little too thin for what he wants to do to you.

You collapse on the bed beside him, already nodding off.

You're proven wrong in the morning. He sends you over the edge twice with his head trapped between your thighs and his palm sealed over your mouth. And at breakfast, you have to play off the flush he carries as the AC putting out too much heat, smiles barely suppressed.

e/n: thank you for reading!

tagging those who liked the teaser: @mamachasesmayhem @pricelessemotion @sorchathered @dizzybee03 @always-and-forever-at @ofstoriesandstardust @sunlightmurdock @withahappyrefrain @aworldwideapart @shamelessghostwagonwobbler

[bowieandqueen11]

Monkey D. Luffy Confessing His Love For You Would Include...

Request: Hi! I absolutely loved your Straw Hat Birthday post 💖 genuinely didn't fancy Luffy until I read that and now can't stop thinking about him! I saw you wanted to write another post for him so how about a classic How Would Luffy Confess/Show His Feelings for you? I just know he'd be an absolute clingy weirdo about it 🤩 thank you!!

Awww thank you lovely!! SO glad to be sharing the Luffy love, and you're so right, he would be so clingy!! :)

Imagines always take a lot of planning and time to write, so comments are much much appreciated!!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @general-cyno.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look, Luffy HAD to release his feelings for you. Right now. If not for the fact that every time he was in a ten centimetre radius of you his whole body shook with such perfervid vibrations he's nearly left a gaping hole in the deck, Zoro's clenched jaw was dead giveaway that he was ten seconds from lobbing his Captain off the side of the ship.

If he had to hear about it one more time. It was bad enough Mr. Curly Brows finding his way to butt into every conversation: placing down his whisk so he could clasp his hands to his cheek and turn to Luffy with such pulsing hearts catapulting out of his eyes at the mere thought of romance. Even worse was being subjected to Luffy's tireless campaign; the incessant drilling of Luffy in trying to make sure every crewmate knew his every inner, cogitating... sappy thoughts about you was starting to eat into Zoro's much needed nap time.

On second thoughts, hearing solely Luffy talk about romance was far better than hearing both he and the waiter prattle on about it.

Zoro placed his palms over his eyes and tried to block out the way the cook had begun fanning himself with the bottom edge of his apron. 'You need to woo them, Luffy! Make them feel like they're the most stunning person in the whole world- the most important crewmate on this ship!'

Luffy took a break from tearing apart the third plate of roasted beef and fresh bread poor Sanji had spent all afternoon sweating in the kitchen to bake to glance down at the meat quizzically. No - not quizzically, much to Zoro's chagrin. Luffy's eyes widened; his head tilted as he rubbed his fingers together and let his meal clatter back onto the plate, his eyes brightening as if he were burnishing all the world's sunsets between his hands.

He looked yearning.

What Zoro didn't understand - heck, what even Luffy himself didn't understand, was how long this long-held devotion had been balling in the pit of his stomach like gilded butterflies, trying to flutter out through his ever-growing smile. After his dejection at Shank's departure from Dawn Island, you had been the only person left in Luffy's life whom he still felt hope from. The only person, besides the kind Makina, who didn't treat Luffy and his dreams like a whimsical joke.

When you had found him on the shore of the coast that day: his legs shivering as he ignored the chill splash of the tide soaking over his legs, his straw hat hanging sorrowfully over his eyes, you knew immediately that all Luffy needed was a little bit of optimism. A little bit, as you stepped over the shards of splintered wood that you could only make out as the remains of a makeshift mast, of belief. As you folded your legs down on the sand and settled next to your friend and gently took the torn Jolly Roger flag from his clenched hands, that what Luffy really needed was your unwavering devotion.

Little did you know, as Luffy turned with bleary eyes and that - god - that still so tender smile twitching at his lips when he spots you, that he was thinking exactly the same. As you grasped his hand between your own and pointed out to the horizon, promising that one day the two of you would sail away underneath that spot: right there. That one! That little spot: those wavering streaks of shimmering gold that lay like a transcendental passage underneath the orbed sun, you could never have realised that Luffy would only reflect your adoration tenfold.

'Wherever we go, we go together right? You won't leave me?', Luffy has asked, wiping his snotty nose with the back of your intertwined knuckles.

'Of course! I promise, Luffy', you had recoiled with a laugh, wiping it off on his vest.

Luffy's so uncharacteristically still, so silent for a moment, that Zoro's almost tempted to shout for Chopper. 'They are!', he finally shouts, nearly making the table clatter onto its side with how fervidly his knee jolts. For a moment, Luffy looks almost sad as he drops the last piece of beef back onto his plate, but his spine is quick to shoot as straight as an arrow again: his wide grin blooming across his face like roped starlight when he remembers what he had been so busy thinking about mere moments before. And every hour before that. And every single day before that as well. You.

You had always been an integral part of his dream, and now he was beginning to understand why.

'I can't stop thinking about them!', he declares, much to a chuckling Sanji's delight and a groaning Zoro's annoyance. 'They're more beautiful than all of the meat in all of the entire seas!'

Zoro pinches his temples lightly before rubbing his hands down his face and crossing them stoutly over his chest. Sanji's quick to scowl over at him. Leaning back on his stool, the first mate sighs as he watches Luffy whip his head between his two cremates like a puppy whose just been tossed a juicy bone.

'What do I do now!'

'Just... don't... don't say that to them. The beef part. The rest of it's fine.'

Sanji clucks his tongue at the swordsman, desperately trying to hold back a seething retort. Instead, he turns his attention back to his Captain, coming to clean up his plate and reassuringly pat his shoulder at the same time. 'Don't worry, Luffy. You just need to show them that you care! Spend some quality time with them, shower them with gifts, offer them your hand when they're disembarking the ship... ', Sanji's eyes glaze over as he bites his bottom lip, and Zoro tries desperately to restrain himself from picking up the bowl soaking in the sink and dumping it over the moron's head. 'Such beautiful creatures should be treated with the upmost devotion.'

The only problem with Sanji's advice is, that Luffy somehow manages to become a thousand times clingier when he finally realises he's in love.

You'll be minding your own business: trying to eat dinner with your friends when you'll sense something sprightly and warm barrelling towards your side. Before you can even register why Nami's stopped chewing on a chunk of torn bread to wiggle her eyebrows facetiously at you, the jut of Luffy's chin weighs down on your shoulder. You flush, trying not to embarrass yourself in front of your crewmates (and losing your bet with Nami to see whether you or Luffy will cave in first and kiss the other one silly), you pretend to be intently stabbing at your carrots. Definitely not squirming your legs together under the table at the feel of Luffy's jean shorts riding up the edge of your thigh. Definitely not inadvertently hitching your breath as the harsh edge of his knee bumps against your own, his leg resting heavily as he your Captain nearly climbs on top of you. And definitely, definitely not feeling your hands go clammy with the intensity of Luffy's puppy dog eyes fixedly contemplating the faint splatter of blush on the cheek nearly pressed against his nose: as if mapping out the intricacies of your body was the most interesting thing he'd ever done.

'Y/n!', he finally starts, making you jump up. Nami was not impressed when your leg reflexively kicked out and hit her shin, but you Luffy was more than delighted when you slunk it back with an apologetic smile and hit the side of his big toe. Without a second thought, he wrapped his foot around your ankle under the table and nuzzles his forehead against your jaw. 'You've been training so much with Zoro lately, I saved you some of my meat so you can get big and strong like me!'

*Cue the shocked gasps from Usopp and Sanji, the controlled exhale from Zoro as he tilted his head back against the porthole and closed his eyes, and the self-congratulatory smirk from Nami.*

'I also borrowed some cookies from Sanji! They're super chocolatey. I tried a few to make sure that you'd like them!'

'Hey, those weren't for you!', Sanji bites his tongue and flops his tea towel down onto the table, but Luffy's too busy inadvertently ignoring the cook to care. His sole focus is on the sweet delight that blooms across his face at the thoughtful gesture as he fumbles some half-broken cookies out of his pockets.

'Sorry', he murmurs as he places them into your hand. 'I got a bit hungry and ate some of them.'

'On your way from the counter to the bench?', Usopp asks.

'Yeah, what is that? Like, ten steps?', Nami teases, but the words don't even register in Luffy's whirring mind. He's far, far too busy trying to stop his heart from pouring out of his gaping mouth like choking saltwater, he's blubbering so much. His fingers shake as he splits the last cookie from his vest in half and - as gently as he can - prods it against the plumpness of your closed lips. Once you've started chewing, you decide to return the favour; you barely half to lift the other half of the cookie before Luffy's nipping at your fingers like an energetic snapping turtle. When your pointer finger accidentally enters his mouth though, and brushes against that warm velvety spot lining the inside of his bottom lip, he freezes; the faint taste of sugar of toffee melts off your skin and against his tongue, and the usually so assured man forgets, for a second, how to breath.

It's only when your finger pulls back to wipe a few stray crumbs away from his Cupid Bow that Luffy finally springs.

'Y/n, let me get your crumbs too!' He leans forward with crinkled eyes almost closed painfully tight and pursed lips. Whether he was going to kiss or lick the crumbs off your face you'll never know, because at that exact moment Sanji tackles Luffy to the floor before he could get any closer.

Just want to warn you in advance: if you want to sleep alone, you'll have to bribe Nami into keeping watch outside of your room every night. Or you'll have to sneak off and try and stowaway in some old oaken kipper barrel under deck (although the stench is so bad you couldn't sleep anyway, and Luffy went wandering around the pantry for a midnight snack that he lifted the lid and found you anyway.) Because the only preparation you'll get before being launched into your hammock is the pounding of his sandals making the gunwales shake, and the slight pant of his famished breath before your door is kicked open.

'Y/n! I can't sleep! Can I come snuggle with you? Captain's orders!'

You don't mind though, and even if Luffy can be incredibly clingy, if you told him no he would feel sad, but he would always respect your wishes. It would be the worst thing in the world for him to hurt you in any way - seeing you upset feels like his heart is being clawed out of his chest, because in a way it is.

There's barely any time to plop your book down onto the floor and hold your hands out to Luffy before you're flung into the air like a ragdoll, his rubbery arms wrapping five times around your abdomen as if he were growing sunflower roots from his fingers: winding the roots around to kiss your body, rooting his blooms within your skin. Embedded together until you were almost sharing the same breath, Luffy passes out almost immediately; he spends the whole night snoring with his nose squished just under your eye, but you can barely sleep with the way he keeps rubbing butterfly kisses against your cheek every so often. It doesn't help that he keeps whining desperately in his sleep - his already clenching and unclenching fingers leaving their home in your side to claw at your thighs and lift them closer to his bellybutton. His dragging lips left a wet trail against the pulse point as he burrowed himself further against you, only settling again when the heavy weight of his legs squirm in between your own.

One time you were spending the afternoon wandering through the delightful market square of Seahorse Shore: the sweet smell of jasmine blooms woven between sun streamed lattices was matched only by the warm sound of Sanji's friendly chatter as he walked beside you, stopping from time to time to pick up and squeeze a rare fruit.

You froze when you heard something: an echoing pounding, like an elephant stampeding away from a wild hurricane that whipped at its tail, before someone jumped on your back.

You were about to toss the guy head over ass onto the ground, when you heard the delighted shrill of Luffy's frantic voice ringing against the shell of your ear.

'I missed you so much today! Mmmh, you smell so good, like meat and flowers!'

'Luffy, how did you get back here so quickly?? You were at the opposite end of the island!'

'He followed his nose back to you.' Zoro just turned around, deciding to take his chances getting lost down the billion white sun-bleached cobblestone alleyways on this twisty island than to stay watching the two of you be all lovey-dovey for another second. Gosh, by all the seas even Sanji yelped when he you stumbled forward, steadying yourself by wrapping your fingers behind the raised kneecaps Luffy had haphazardly thrown around your hips. The man hugged onto you like a koala bear backpack, because he had been apart from you for... hmm... twenty minutes?

He's always dragging you off for some big, wild adventure, I don't know, there's just something about the two of you sitting under the speckled shade of an orange tree with interlocked arms, a few fireflies beginning to peek their heads out from between the stout leaves, like honey dripping down from bowed boughs as you leaned against each other, watching the sunset. You were here. You had made it. You were free.

And most importantly, you were together.

Luffy lunges for your hand and starts pointing at the grass swaying between your shoes, excitedly telling you about all the bugs and beetles running around the soil (to Luffy, a big part of love is trying to share what you're passionate about with each other.) He does lift up a stag beetle at one point and places it on your hand, but he starts to panic when the insect frantically starts scurrying up your arm. Somehow you end up face down in the dirt with Luffy leaning over your back; the buttons of his Hawaiian shirt sway over your spine as his chest heaves, his lips dangerously close to being only a few centimetres away from landing on your shoulder blade. You would have blushed at the proximity if you weren't too busy picking grass blades out of your hair, and trying to help Luffy's stretchy arms unloop themselves from under your armpits.

When Luffy gets to flop his head back down into your lap though, feeling you card your fingers through his hair, all is right in the world again. For a while, the two of you just exist: watching the sunset brew violet and lilac gleams across your eyeline, talking about your latest adventure against Captain Kuro at Syrup Village and playing with each others shaky fingers. Its only when you take a break from stroking his curly hair against your palm that he stops and pouts, blinking rapidly up at you. When you lean forward though, tickling that soft spot between his earlobe and the cute freckle by his jaw using your free hand to pluck a daisy from behind the rim of his hat and tuck it through the loop, a bashful burn shines across his face.

Before he can think twice, he musters his courage and determination, squeezes his eyes shut, and lifts his spine up so he can plant a wet kiss against the tip of your nose.

Your eyes flash as you pull back, tenderly rubbing your nose against his. Cupping his cheek, you press a kiss against his forehead and fold your enclosed hands against the rapid pulse of your heart. Your eyes never leave his, and his eyes trace your path in... confusion?

I mean, the two of you have been in love with each other since you were ten years old, and this is the first time Luffy's brain has stopped to think: 'Hey! Maybe Y/n likes me too!'

The real time he surprises you though is when he plops his hat on top of your head. You'd been caught up fighting some Marines off the coast of the Conomi Islands, and had unfortunately been struck down by a rather forceful cannon ball to the side of the Going Merry's railings. When Luffy bust down into the Medbay, you'd never seen such clouds thunder across his face. His whole body seemed to sag once he spotted you, his eyebrows unfurrowing as he almost tripped over his own feet in his desperation to get to you.

'I... I was so worried. I saw that Marine hit you, and I-

For once, Luffy stops talking. Instead, he takes his hat and places it over your tired eyes, hoping you won't see how flustered he looks when he leans down to press his lips against the top of your bandaged arm.

'You- you promised', his voice wavers as if he's about to start sobbing, but he hides the noise by wiping his nose with his forearm. 'You promised you'd stay with me. Always.'

'I meant it Luffy - I'm a Strawhat Pirate, you can't get rid of me that easily. What would my helpless Captain do without me?', you smile, brushing the back of your knuckles languidly down his the growing tearstains of his cheek, despite how much your whole body screamed at you to rest.

'Promise?', he asks, his voice shaky.

'I promise.'

He didn't have to say it. You both knew. You had always known. There was no one without the other. There was no dream without you.

So when he clumsily slapped his hands on either side of your cheek, smushing them together so you looked like a blabbering pufferfish, you weren't surprised. When he nearly sent the stretcher you were perched on rolling across the room by standing between your legs and pressing his torso up against your chest, you didn't blink. When he smashed his lips against yours, leaving kitten licks against the inner seam of your mouth as if he were trying to eat his way into your tongue, you didn't think twice.

All you did was kiss him back, the unwavering devotion that had always tied your lives together finally finding freedom by flooding into your hearts.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 56)

Hi, quick authors note. I have little to no experience writing action... and I'm a little afraid that might show in this chapter. That being said I do hope it's not confusing and you all enjoy it. It's a Doozy!

The next store, smaller then the toy store and really no more then a kiosk, with trinkets and scanners placed on a simple wooden table, the man standing behind it was cleaning a nixie tube with a cloth.

“You two seem a little young to be looking at these antiques…” His voice was gruff, sporting green eyelights and brown hair under a simple hard hat.

“Just… something specific.” Uzi cracked a wary smile as she took a look at what he had, ancient tech mixed with more modern parts… some of it wasn't exactly… legal. But that had never stopped her before, even if N looked increasingly nervous.

He was off duty sure, he was under no obligation to arrest the man even though his booth was sketchy and some of the parts he was selling were clearly ripped from other parts of bunker. But it still felt wrong to just… not do anything.

Uzi eyed the medical scanner, half buried under other medical equipment (mostly pain relief spikes) it was older, a screen on the front with the back shaped like a scan gun you find at registers. The ones the medical bay had now were automatic, this one was manual, but it would still do the trick.

“How much?”

She pointed to the scanner and the drone squinted at her, his eyes trailing over to Tera, who was still enthralled by her bat toy, then to N.

“Hundred and fifty.” N winced, that was like… half a paycheck. But it wasn't like they needed the money for anything else. So he transferred the credits without another word and the drone grinned wide and toothy, N just turned away as Uzi grabbed the scanner, her nerves seeming to skyrocket now that she had it in her hands.

This thing would tell her what she was, if she was still mechanical or if she was more flesh, ignorance had been bliss, a bliss she wouldn't have for very much longer.

“We got it… you wanna go home and perform it or…”

“No. No we can go home, I need to know.”

N nodded, taking her hand and attempting to lead them out of the marketplace before something seemed to catch his eye. Thad was walking with one of their female classmates, he was being hit on… clearly. But he wasn't giving her much response back, he looked almost bored….

“Hey Thad!” N shouted, making Uzi elbow him in the gut. They were supposed to be heading home! And she definitely didn't feel well enough in any way, to be put in more social situations.

But it didn't matter, Thad heard his name and locked eyes with N, his bored expression turning up into a friendly smile as his attention was turned away from the girl and to his freinds.

“Hey guys! What are you all doing here?” He turned to N, who immediately began to talk nearly nonstop, about his job, about Tera, about her. It would be sweet if she wasn't currently zoning out, thoughts running elsewhere and everywhere.

Maybe that's why she didn't see the red glint from a darkened hallway behind her.

The world around her began to slip away as she tuned out the conversation, there was so much to worry about, and it all seemed to be slowly creeping in on her, she felt like if she focused on it she would suffocate.

And that's when something grabbed her from behind, and she didn't even have time to give out a yelp and barely had time to wrap her hands protectively around Tera as she was yanked backwards, sailing quickly through the halls and into a small room that was only half finished, bare stone making up two of the furthest walls.

She was on her feet instantly, tail wrapping protectectivly around Tera, spines flexed outwards and fangs bared, eyes scanning the dark room for any sign of who dragged her here, a growl left her lips as Tera was uncharacteristically quiet, pressed up against Uzi tightly.

[Hello Uzi] A voice spoken in Russian, automaticly translated by her receptors but it sent chills down her back all the same, she gasped pulling Tera closer and her eyelights hollowing out from anger to fear. She looked around, she didn't even know where the hell she was, much less the route Doll had dragged her to get here, it had gone by too fast.

“What do you want?” She snarled, she couldn't see but a few feet in either direction, this part of the bunker was dark and empty, the only real lighting being the dim florescent light above her.

[To talk] She couldn't pinpoint exactly where Doll's voice was coming from, which only succeeded in making her frustrated, but mostly sacred, Tera was here, this was a bad situation…

“Then why drag me here alone?” She asked, focusing hard on where the response would come from. But she didn't have to, Doll stepped into the light.

She looked… awful.

Her clothes were nothing but tatters and all of them covered in some combination of oil and blood, she walked with a limp and her visor was cracked, she'd tried to cover it with an eyepatch, but she could still see the spiderwebbed fracture. Her remaining eyelight was still as peircing as ever, however.

Even still, Uzi didn't let her guard down.

Doll activated her solver, beginning to circle Uzi like a hyena about to pounce, there were black veins snaking up the leg she was struggling to put weight on, but Uzi recognized the look on Doll's face, hunger.

Who knows how long it'd been since she last fed.

[I had a plan that fell through, I've got nothing and the planet will soon be transformed. I did not find what I was looking for, for that, I am sorry.]

She started talking quickly, like she was running out of time.

[But I am not sorry for what I am going to do to your murder pets when you lure them in here for me, if I cannot be cured, then I want to take them down with me.]

“W-what?” Transformed? Cure? What the hell was Doll talking about?

“Like I'd just let you do that.” She replied, deciding to focus on the most important thing, which was keeping her daughter safe. She activated her own solver, feeling power from her core rush to her fingertips as she accessed it.

[I thought you might say that.]

Something hit her shoulder and sunk in deeply, causing her to yelp and wince as oil oozed out of where a kitchen knife dug into her metal, Uzi immediately made Tera look elsewhere, silent tears of fear shining in the toddlers eyelights as her mother hissed in pain.

“Fuck…” Uzi used her solver to pull out the knife from her shoulder, the wound already beginning to heal over the moment it was removed, she aimed it at Doll and got into the best fighting position she could while carrying a toddler.

[Don't worry, I'll just knock you out.] Doll grinned before summoning more knives and taking aim, Uzi growled, and dug deep to what she remembered doing with the pens to duplicate them, there was more at stake now, her daughters safety depended on her winning this fight.

She duplicated the knives nearly effortlessly, and launched them at Doll at a speed even the Russian was surprised at, though she just teleported out of the way of them, she looked back on them with a half smile.

[You've been practicing]

“Bite me.” Uzi lept out of the way of knives sailing towards her, ending up unfurling her wings to crawl on the ceiling while she held Tera with her actual arms, she felt a different kind of white hot rage fill her, and another feral growl left her lips. Her tail whipped in front of her, sending razer sharp spines raining down on Doll's head, once again, the projectiles just seemed to bounce off, but ever the observant one, Doll had something to say about it.

[I have never seen that mutation before… how cute, you're literally prickly now]

Uzi just growled, crawling over the ceiling and the walls around Doll a lot like an actual bat, she had to keep her distance, her kit was in danger and she had to make as much space between Doll and Tera as possible. She sent more spines her way utterly filling the wall behind the Russian like a stone pincushion.

[What the hell are you holding anyway? It can't be that important.] Uzi blinked, could… could Doll not see very well? That would make sense, she only had one working eyelight…

But that thought came at a bad time, a knife came flying her direction that she couldn't dodge and it caught her in the side, sending her falling off the wall and tumbling to the ground, she sheltered her daughter the best she could from the fall.

She lifted her arm to try to launch the knife back but her core suddenly lurched and visibly sparked with gold, gold glitched across her screen and her solver turned a similar color, her entire body screaming at her to stop what she was doing instantly.

“Agh!” She yelped, curling in on herself and pulling Tera into her, she felt like she was on fire, but Tera was still in danger…

[Oooh… that looked painful.] Doll closed the distance, pointing her solver directly at Uzi's visor, she closed her eyes shut and shielded Tera in her wings as best she could, N could take care of her… V might even step up, she had family still…

“No! Bad! Bad! NO!” Tera flung herself at Doll, slamming her tiny fists uselessly against her, Uzi wanted to scream, but any movement to try and rip Tera away was sending so much agony through her that she just ended up sinking further into the floor.

“Tera No!”

She kept at it though, punching as hard as her little fists could, Doll stopped after a moment of processing, her solver dissolving into nothing as the toddler did her worst… which wasn't much.

[What?] Doll blinked before picking the toddler up with one hand and holding her slightly away, Tera kicked and screamed and spat in her direction, digital tears streaming down her face.

“No! Mama! Bad! No!” Her limited vocabulary spoke volumes, and Doll looked back over at Uzi, who had switched from fighting to downright pleading.

“Please don't hurt her… please… you can do whatever you want with me, but let her go…” It wasn't like Uzi to beg for anything, but the life of her daughter was too important, too precious. Doll's eyes went hollow, her breaths came in quick pants.

[You- Since when?] Doll choked out before she dropped the toddler like she had burned her, Uzi fought through the pain to catch her and hold her close, both mother and child clinging to each other, pushed up against the wall.

[I… I'm…] She looked down at herself, at her ratty clothes covered in oil and blood and the strange growth on her leg as she tumbled backwards, looking terrified, of what, Uzi wasn't sure.

She locked eyes with Uzi, breathing heavily, before red code began to scrub her out of existence, dancing around her like a veil before… she disappeared.

Uzi waited for something else to come, for Doll to come to finish the job or her body to genuinely begin to fall apart or some combination of both, but the pain slowly subsided, her core returning to it's normal functioning, and the room fell silent, absent of Doll.

Tera was sobbing into her, gripping her like she was her only safe haven, digital tears began to fall from her own visor too, she gripped her back, petting the back of Tera's head.

“You were so brave sweetheart… so brave.” Uzi was proud and terrified and tired so tired, but mostly she was relieved that she was safe, although no doubt traumatized.

“Mama…” Tera whimpered, curling up tight next to Uzi's core and refusing to let go, Uzi took several deep breaths, okay, Doll was gone, and even though she didn't know why. It didn't matter, she just… needed to get up off the floor.

But… her legs weren't listening, it didn't matter what she told them to do she was frozen there, either from shock or fear or even the slight aftershocks of pain or the combination of all of them, she just… didn't have the strength.

There was a banging somewhere, a furious, desperate type of banging that progressively got louder, Uzi cocooned them both in her wings and wrapped her tail around them, becoming a living full body shield.

Then a door opened and light poured in.

“Uzi!” Oh… that was N. He was here, thank Robo-God he was here.

“N!” She popped her head out of her wings just in time for her to get scooped up into his warmth and his scent and everything was suddenly feeling so much better.

“What happened? You disappeared!” He sounded so worried, and on the verge of tears himself, he looked her over, the gash on her shoulder was almost healed but her side was still bleeding freely, she didn't respond, only trembled as she tried her best to melt into him.

“D-doll” She choked out and she felt him flinch as he looked around, she assumed he was using his other vision modes, since she heard the soft beeping of his HUD switching modes.

“She's gone, Tera uh… scared her off.” N helped her stand, her legs were wobbling and she was still struggling to take deep breath, Tera was crying so hard in her arms that she was near silent aside from her harsh sobs and whimpers.

“Tera?” N replied, confused.

“Yeah, I don't know either.”

“Uzi! N!” There were more footsteps as Thad ran into the room, out of breath and venting heavily, his gaze met the family and his eyelights turned worried.

“We're fine…” Uzi said immediately, trying to hide how beat up she was, artificial adrenaline slowly waning, replaced by a dull ache in every joint, every servo and every gasket. The area around her core felt sore…

“Yeah I don't belive you…” Thad replied, immediately looking her over in much the same way N had done, just with far less lingering touches.

“Since when did you become so doting?”

“You're my freind Zi, I'm like… Tera's uncle at this point.” He held something in his hands, something small, purple, and shaped like a bat.

“Hey, I think you dropped this.” He knelt down to where Tera was and brought the bat plushie into her view, she gasped, and breifly let go of her mother to grip it tightly and hug it to her before curling right back up in her previous position.

“Thank you…” Uzi found herself choking up again, causing Thad to back away slightly, he wasn't used to seeing Uzi so… vulnerable.

But in the next second she pulled him into a hug, making his eyelights go hollow for a moment before he returned it, squeezing her tightly.

“No problem.”

It took several minutes for Uzi to calm down enough to begin to try and walk, N steadied her on one side, Thad on the other, Tera resting on N's back, gripping him tightly.

She limped home, ignoring how slowly her wounds were healing compared to normal, ignoring the aches and pains and desire to just collapse into a pile of spare parts and letting herself get near dragged back home.

N and Thad lowered her onto the couch, tye furniture creaking unhappily with the addition of her weight, N turned to Thad, talking about something she couldn't focus enough to listen to.

She'd lost… and the only reason her and Tera weren't dead or used as bait was because Tera surprised Doll… She'd failed to protect her, her one job.

“Hey Thad's going home, do you want me to move you to the bed?” N's voice broke through the thoughts, and she nodded without thinking, he scooped her up in her arms and was off towards the bed, shutting the door behind him with his tail.

He sat Tera down on the edge of the bed first, before he laid his girlfriend down gently, Tera immediately crawled towards them both, refusing to be anywhere but curled up next to them.

Her wounds were healed well enough, neither no longer openly weeping, but her hoodie was still stained with oil, no blood thankfully…

She had no qualms with sleeping like this even through she felt filthy… she was too exhausted to even think about getting up and changing, not to mention the dull ache of her limbs and joints only adding to it.

N wasn't satisfied with that though, and began to change her into her clean pajamas instead, Uzi just let him, she'd never felt more tired in her life. The glitch with the solver draining every ounce of energy she had.

“Wait.” She managed to get out, pointing to her pocket weakly as N was throwing it into the hamper, he dug into the pocket, pulling out the scanner.

“Scan me.” She asked quietly, and he looked at her worry etched on every inch of his face.

“You've been through a lot today… maybe we should wait until you've recov-”

“My solver glitched out during that fight… I need to know what's going on… inside.” She gulped, she really wanted to sleep but… this was more important.

“O-okay, walk me through it.”

So she did, she showed him how to calibrate the scanner and tune it for her systems, how the data it collected on her internal systems would be displayed on the screen, and all he had to do was slowly scan her.

He started with her head, pulling the trigger on the scanner and allowing a little blue light to roll over her, the scanner beeped as a map of her head was taken, first just her silicone, then the metal underneath, then through that.

He had to hold the scanner over each part of her for several minutes to completely map each part, on the side of the tiny screen, her code read out flashed, all bathed in purple and running nominally, as far as he could tell.

“You look fine so far.”

‘Keep going, end on my core… that's the most uncomfortable.”

“Okay.”

He continued the scan, taking note of any abnormalities he could find, her limbs were all normal, no fleshy bits or arrant code, just basic, stock worker limbs, complete with the ball joints and industrial hydraulics running through them.

Her head was… mostly normal, her processors were all neatly wired up, but the scanner had picked up… extra wires? At least that's what they looked like, that made a web over most of her main processing units, connected to bits of organic tissue.

It was her torso that really held everything… off.

The scanner picked up her wings and tail, folded into compartments he knew for a fact normal worker drones didn't have, but that had to normal for Uzi, at least since her transformation, but those weren't the only organic parts.

She had a small, but fully realized set of human lungs, breathing in time with her vents to pump air in and out, her oil tank was artificially enlarged and rerouted into… a very strange organic mass in her midsection. When the scanner broke through the tissue, he realized it was a digestive system.

“Not liking that face your giving.”

“It's fine. Let me finish up” He quickly said, he didn't want to freak her put before the scan was done, despite the weirdness and the fusing of flesh and metal, none of it was damaged or working improperly, so none of it had the capacity to make her sick.

Slightly further down, below her midsection there was another, extremely small ball of… something. It wasn't organic, but it was dense, and the scanner couldn't get a good read on what it was. N kept it at the back of his mind as he raised the scanner again, this time over her core.

“Alright, last little bit, you ready?”

“Mmhm.”

The scanner flashed over her core and she gave an uncomfortable shudder, the scanner beeped incredibly rapidly as it both mapped through her casing and exploded in code readout; which made sense, the core was like a motherboard.

Only… the code it read out looked different from the code running through systems in the rest of her body. For starters, some of it was mixed with gold instead of the ocean of purple code it had read out to him before.

Her core was also beating, like a human heart, it still thrumed normally, but surrounding it was a fleshly mass that beat in a constant rhythm. N blinked, feeling his own core and feeling the soft beating that had always accompanied it. It was like his now.

The more the scanner dug in though, the more golden code it read out, as he slowed down to read it, he realized that he recognized it. After all, it was easy to recognize your own code.

“Uh…” He made a noise of confusion making Uzi look up at him with a brow raised, he blinked before showing her the screen that was still reading put mixed code.

“I- sorry I don't know what this means.” He admitted, but Uzi suddenly grabbed the scanner, eyes growing wide as she looked through the model of her internals and the code read out.

“Holy hell I have lungs! And an actual stomach! That might explain why I've been so hungry…” Honestly? It wasn't as bad as she was expecting it to be, none of her internals had been replaced, just added onto, she held her chest and felt the the rise and fall, something that had started after her transformation that had been so imperceptible she hadn't noticed.

Shen she looked over at the core code and felt everything stop.

That was gold code.

That was gold code in her core.

She wasn't stupid, she knew what that meant, she'd seen it in nursery screenings about a thousand times shown to prospective new parents. It was N's code, mixing with hers.

She was… pregnant.

Next ->

[jeonscatalyst]

Hello!! I’m so glad I found your blog when I returned to tumblr after 5 years haha, your posts and opinions are always sound and thought provoking :)

I was just curious, and I’ve asked this of a couple others since I’m like a dragon with a hoard I love me some opinions, after 9+ hours of AYS do you still think jikook might be real? And do you think it showed that they were together thru chapter 2 (I know some believe that there was a break up).

My answer is yes, that there is strong chance that they are dating and were doing so throughout chapter 2. But would love your insight too :)

Hi anon,

Let me just make it clear that I’ve never claimed to be 100% sure that Jikook are a couple but I 100% believe that their relationship over the years hasn’t always been a platonic one.

After watching over 9 hours of AYS I am still certain that Jikook love each other and are important to each other. I am also certain that the nature of their relationship hasn’t always been platonic but I am one of those people who believes that something was off with them during parts of the solo era. I don’t know if I would say they broke up or were on a break (because I don’t know that) but I do think something was a little off especially around the time when they shot the NY episodes. It doesn’t necessarily have to be that they broke up or were on a break but sometimes when people’s circumstances change, it is normal that they go through some hurdles in their relationships. We all know that the solo era came with Jimin and Jungkook having completely different schedules and I also think that at some point they were both operating on different wavelengths and probably needed other people more than they needed each other (this is normal and there is absolutely nothing wrong with needing other people more than you need you lovers at certain times) I think that at some point their very different lives and schedules made things difficult for them to maintain a normal relationship and it possibly caused some distance between them. I have never been one who has always been stuck to the opinion that Jimin and Jungkook have a normal or conventional type relationship. I have always been open to the possibility that maybe they couldn’t quite have that because of their circumstances but i’ve never doubted that there was something more going on between them.

So to answer your question more directly I would say i’m not positive that things were the same during certain points of the solo era and that includes when they filmed the NY episodes of AYS but I think by the time they filmed Jeju and Sapporo, things were pretty much back to normal and Jikook seemed like the Jikook we knew. I cannot say for sure if they were on a break or if they broke up but what I can say for sure is that, that something which felt a little off with them at the beginning, disappeared as we progessed through the episodes as I could sense a shift in energy, plus, just watching the episodes after NY and aside from noticing the obvious closeness and connection between Jikook, you could see that they were very updated about each other’s lives. We had Jimin singing Jungkook’s unreleased “3D”, Jungkook knowing about Jimin’s upcoming album and also seeing his performance video with the kids way before it was released and even just the fact that they decided to enlist together. All these were proof that whatever was off between them before, had been sorted out.

I know this is a touchy subject for Jikookers as many people have different opinions about Jikook in chapter two and some jikookers don’t like hearing about the possibility of Jikook having off moments or possibly being or breaks or breaking up, but it happens. I feel like sometimes we forget that we have been following up moments of these guys lives that have spanned for over 13 years and there is no way in these 13 years it was always smooth sailing. I think it’s normal that within these periods, we would experience them in all sorts of states and probably watch them go through thick and thin without even realizing exactly what they are going through.

I think by the time Jikook were done filming AYS, they were ok. I think alot of the “offness” that I sensed probably happened because of a drastic change in their lives which they both probably didn’t know how to handle well. Jimin and Jungkook had been used to being together almost all the time. Going through all the years since they met in 2012 and then debuted in 2013, there is not a single year that went by without us seeing or hearing about Jikook being joined at the hip. I think the first time they had to deal with that kind of separation since they met was the solo era with Jimin being neck deep in work and having to move in with producers temporarily to work on his album while Jungkook wasn’t doing anything at all. They were in very different places at the time so I think some distance crept in. Jimin was in work mode and needed people in work mode while Jk was on rest mode and needed people on that same wavelength. At the beginning of last year, it was crystal clear that Jungkook was going through something. I don’t want to be presumptuous and say that what ever seemed to be bothering him had to do with Jimin because I don’t know that but I think it was interesting how much he couldn’t hide the fact that he missed Jimin. Whether as a friend or as a lover, it isn’t debatable that Jungkook missed him so much. Him instinctively asking Jimin to come over and do stuff with him everytime Jimin commented on his lives, him watching tons of Jimin content and talking about him alot, him replying to Jimin’s “I miss You” post on weverse and then proceeding to watch a bunch of Jimin centric content….he missed him. I cannot put my finger on whatever was going on but the dots are connecting and something sure was off at the some point last year but all is well that ends well. We may never get to find out what exactly happened and may just be stuck with speculation but I guess we can all rest easy knowing that at this very moment, at the end of everything, Jimin and Jungkook found their way back to each other and are together right now going through one of the most difficult moments of their lives together and they’ll only come back, closer and much more connected than they ever were. (gosh this sounds so cheesy lol)