#yeah i ended up combining two of my series into one for this

[cryscendo]

the ABCs of KEH: D IS FOR… DAD

I don't believe in God, Dad. But I believe in you and I believe in us. You and me, that's what's sacred to me.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Dirty Laundry

Summary: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) vaginal fingering, paise kink, a breeding kink so dangerous that you may get pregnant just from reading, creampie, cum play, a loud washer and dryer, no actual laundry accomplished, domestic girl dad Javi, you'll always be famous

A/N: idk who unlocked my cell while I was ovulating, but once again I have escaped, and once again, we're makin' babies. I think I've convinced myself I don't know how to write anything else, and for that, I am genuinely sorry. If wanting to give Javier Peña a football team worth of kids is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the goddamn key 🤠

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

For as much as you loved your daughters, it was safe to say that for the past two weeks, your pair of rambunctious toddlers had been doing very little for your sex life. 

Your 4 year old Lucy had been going through a phase of having nightmares every night, and somehow ending up in you and Javi’s bed no matter what you tried. That, combined with trying to potty train your 2 year old, Elliot, (who was nowhere close to being the breeze her older sister it was when it came to the matter), on top of preschool, work, and life in general, you and Javi had barely gotten so much as a kiss in, let alone some quality time together. 

It had been your hope to start trying for baby number three, but after 2 months of negative pregnancy tests and another month of complete chaos, despite your best intentions, “trying” had very much taken a backseat in your mental to-do list.  

But this morning when you woke up, it was almost as if a wave of calm had washed over your house to reset the state of disarray you had been in the past few weeks- Both girls had slept through the night in their own beds, had woken up in good spirits, Elliot asked to use the bathroom multiple times, and both had been happy to play in the living room together quietly as you worked on catching up on some much needed laundry. 

So calm, in fact, that Javi was almost worried when he came downstairs for work to hear near silence, apart from the occasional giggles from the girls as they arranged their Fisher Price Little People in their Play Barn and the washer running in the background. 

“Hi Daddy!” Lucy cooed, toddling over to her dad, wrapping her arms around his waist as Elliot quickly followed behind, perching on his leg like a koala. 

“Buenos días, niñas. (Good morning, girls).” Javi grinned, squatting down to kiss the wild, sleepy curls of his daughters’ heads, still slightly confused by the tranquil state of the house. “Where’s Momma?” 

“Washing stinky socks.” Lucy giggled, pinching her nose and scrunching her face, pretending to have smelled something bad. 

“Yeah, stinky socks.” Elliot echoed, sticking out her tongue. 

“Oh yeah? Is it because my pollitas (little chickens) have stinky, smelly feet?” Javi teased, wrapping his arms around the girls, pulling them close to his chest as he tickled their sides, the three erupting in laughter and giggles. 

“What’s goin’ on out here, huh?” You grinned, stepping out of the laundry room with your arms playfully crossed against your chest to see your husband and daughters in a tickle tackle pile on the living room floor. 

“Daddy said we have stinky feet! Daddy’s got stinky feet, not me and Elliot.” Lucy protested. 

“I think you and Daddy both have stinky feet, Lucy Lu, and your dirty laundry proves it.” You smiled, watching Javi give one last big kiss to each of the girls before pushing up off the floor with a grunt, making his way over to you. “Good morning, Mr. Stinky Feet.” 

“Hey, c’mon now. I can’t have you all gangin’ up on me.” Javi pouted through his smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips softly met yours, his words sweet and low as they danced against your skin. “Good morning, Hermosa.” 

His kiss lingered just long enough to send butterflies swirling through your stomach, biting down on your lip to try and keep your heart beating any faster than it already was. You stood there for another moment, eyes locking with his as the grip around your waist tightened just subtly enough to hint his mind was in the same place as yours. 

You were finding a way to finally have sex this morning. 

You could feel the arousal already beginning to pool in your core, swallowing hard as Javi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at you while his hand slid further down your waist towards your ass, trying to devise a plan for the two of you to be alone long enough to do what you had both been so desperately craving these past few weeks. 

As you turned your head back over your shoulder in search of ideas, a devilish grin spread across your face, looking back to Javi to gently tug on the maroon tie dangling from his neck, twisting the end through your fingers. 

“I think I really need help with the laundry before you leave for work.” You mewled, leaning in to press another kiss to his plush lips, followed by another on his cheek and neck, Javi letting a soft groan rumble in his chest. 

“Oh Fuck, baby. What do we do about the girls?” He asked quietly, trying his best to keep his composure as the dark brown of his eyes grew hungrier with want. 

“Snack and a movie? There’s already a baby monitor out in the living room, and if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, it should buy us enough time.” You nodded in reassurance of your own idea, already growing antsy with anticipation. 

“God, I love you.” Javi smirked, giving you one more kiss and a firm squeeze of your ass before breaking away towards the kitchen so you could execute your plan. 

“Hey girls?” you called, making your way towards the living room where they were back to playing, “Daddy needs to help Mommy with some, um- laundry. So if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, can you show us what big girls you are and let you watch the movie all by yourselves?” You asked, doing your best to play up your request. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Elliot squealed, clapping and stomping her feet. “Wittle Mermaid!” 

“Okay, go get your blankets and sit on the couch and Daddy’s gonna bring you a snack to watch the movie with.” 

“Yay! Movie time, movie time!” Lucy shrieked as the girls ran to go grab their things, plopping themselves on to the respective corners of the couch. While you searched for the VHS in the entertainment center, Javi returned from the kitchen with two much bigger than needed bowls of Teddy Grahams, turning on the TV as you pushed the tape into the receiver and pressed play. 

With the bright blue Disney logo appearing across the screen and your daughters both happily snuggled with their snacks on the sofa, you and Javi gave each other the silent nod of approval, slowly backing away towards the laundry room while the girls sat in content and entranced silence. 

After one last peek, you carefully closed and locked the laundry room door behind you, quickly followed by turning on both the washing machine and the dryer, trying to do yourself any favors you could by drowning out any suspicious sounds.  

“Good?” Javi asked once more for reassurance, feeling his slacks get tighter and tighter around his crotch by the second as he waited for your response. 

Without a single word, your lips were crashing into his, a messy dance of tongues and teeth ensuing between you as your bodies bumped against the laundry room counter, limbs tangled together in a frantic race to remove clothes. 

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed this.” Javi groaned, helping you slide your top over your head and unclip your bra as he nipped at your neck, pushing your back against the dryer and caging your body under him. 

“I know, baby, me t-too.” You whimpered, reaching out to undo Javi’s belt buckle, shoving his pants down to his thighs, followed by his boxers, freeing his cock as it slapped against the dark hairs on the happy trail of his stomach. “Missed having your big dick inside me.” 

“Fuck.” Javi swore under his breath as you reached out to stroke him, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip to rub the precum up and down his shaft as he shoved your the waistband of your pants and underwear down your hips just far enough to let them fall to the floor around your ankles. 

As much as you both desperately wanted to take your time, worshiping every inch of each other’s bodies until you had nothing left to give, you knew time was not on your side. After a few more strokes, you pulled back, letting Javi snake his hand against your body to slide between your legs, the slightest graze of his fingertips already making you shutter with need. 

At this point, even after the few weeks it had been without Javi inside you, you were wet enough that you could have taken him without any warm up, your core dripping with your arousal to the point it was smearing the inside of your thighs with its shiny coating. But even with your cunt soaking wet and time working against you, Javi couldn’t help but drag his fingers through your folds, curling to push up into your tight hole and prod against your g-spot. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet. This all for me, Momma? Missed me fillin’ you up with my cock? Missed me fucking you full of my cum, huh baby?” Javi growled, his words shooting straight to your cunt, making you clamp down tighter around his fingers and your clit throb with intensity.  

It had been a minute since baby making had been at the forefront of your mind, but his question set off something animalistic in the both of you, knowing that right now could give you a chance at baby number three that you had been wishing for. 

“Y-yes, Javi, fuck- want you to fill me up, baby. Want you to fill me up until you fuck a baby into me.” 

It was then that Javi couldn’t have been more thankful that you had turned on the washer and dryer to try and drown out your noise, because the groan he let escape from his parted lips was much louder than he intended. 

But then again, there were few things in this world that turned him on more than you begging him to knock you up, so what did he expect? 

Scooping his arms under your thighs, Javi hoisted you on top of the dryer, your ass hitting the cold, vibrating metal with a thud as your lips collided again with desperate ferocity, muffled moans escaping from your mouths. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Want me to knock you up again, Momma? Give you another baby?” Javi smirked, reaching to line his cock up with your entrance, swiping his tip through your folds to collect your slick and coat it along his length before he pushed inside you, sinking deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours. 

Words couldn’t describe how much you had missed the sweet stretch and sting of Javi’s fullness, each inch of him feeling better than the last, sobbing out as his tip kissed your cervix, all inhibitions of self-composure completely tossed out the window. Still sunk deep in your cunt, Javi’s hand shot over your mouth, stifling your cries in his palm. 

“Shhhhhh, I know, Osita. You gotta keep quiet though, baby.” 

You nodded frantically in compliance, Javi’s hand dropping to grip around your waist as you tried to catch your breath. “M-move, Javi, please.” Your whimpering request borderlining pathetic with how badly you needed him. 

“You promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?” 

“Mhmmmm. I promise, baby, please.” 

With that, Javi’s hips began to snap, dragging his cock in and out of you at a dangerous pace, coating the walls with the sounds of the wet sounds of your cunt and slapping skin, muffled by the washer and dryer. 

“Oh my God, Javi. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, locking your legs behind the small of Javi’s back, keeping him as close to you as possible as he fucked in and out of you. You draped your arms around his shoulders, fingers burying themselves in the dark curls at the nape of his neck. 

The closeness had the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, adding to the tension beginning to build at the base of your spine, both of you knowing it wouldn’t take long to get where you needed to go after weeks without being able to have each other like this. 

Javi could feel it too, his balls beginning to tense with each pump, using every ounce of self control to keep from preemptively spilling into you, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, holding on to you like his life depended on it. 

“Jesus, Fuck- Fuck, I missed this tight little pussy so much. Gonna cum so deep inside you. So deep it’s gotta fucking take. God, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant. I swear I’ll give you as many babies as you want, Hermosa.” Javi babbled, biting down on his lip as he pounded into you, reaching one of his hands down to circle at your wet, puffy clit, aching to be relieved from all the built up tension. 

At this point, you were so drunk on pleasure that you could barely remember your own name, feeling your orgasm begin to build through every inch of your body in a way that had you seeing stars, digging your fingernails into Javi’s shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out his name, forcing yourself to whisper incoherent sweet nothings against his skin. 

“P-please, Javi. F-fill me up. Oh shit- Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” 

Javi’s thrusts became sloppier and more erratic, fingers rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to coax your orgasm out of you before he followed suit, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow in intense concentration. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me. Soak my fucking cock before I fuck you full of me and knock you up. C’mon, Momma.” 

Suddenly, your orgasm crashed through you, lighting your body up like a goddamn Christmas tree, every inch of your body radiating with bliss as you clamped down around Javi’s cock, biting down on his shoulder as you came to try and stifle your cries. 

Javi was only moments behind you, letting out a low grunt with the final sutter of his hips as he came, coating your walls with his warm spend, fucking it into with every ounce he had left until he had milked himself dry. 

Your bodies collapsed into each other, rising and falling in sync with heavy breaths like you had just finished the last mile of a marathon and collapsed at the finish line, damp and sticky with your sweat. 

As much as Javi didn’t want to pull out, he could feel his cock beginning to soften and the mixture of your spend leaking from your hole. Refusing to let a drop go to waste, he pulled out of you, a groan rumbling low in his chest as he wrapped his hand around his length, dragging his tip up through your folds and collecting the cum that had been dripping out. Taking the wet mess he had gathered with his cock, he pushed himself back into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you, a devilish smirk spreading across his face at the absolutely obscene sound coming from between your legs. 

“Promise me,” Javi gulped between pants, finally pulling out of you again, “Promise we never go this long without having sex again. Holy Fuck.” 

“Promise.” You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement, coming down from your blissed out high. “God, that was the longest two weeks ever. Don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner.” 

“Because we’ve been sleep deprived and exhausted, and our little monstros (monsters) have been giving us a run for our money.” Javi chuckled, reaching behind you to grab a towel from the cabinet above the dryer, quickly rinsing it in the sink before wiping you up and helping you find all of your clothes. 

“Are we crazy for wanting another one?” You asked, looking down at your stomach, thinking about the ramifications of what you had just done. 

“Maybe. But you drive me so fucking crazy, we may end up with 10 before you know it.” 

“Javi! Dear lord, we are not having 10 kids, you psycho.” You laughed, playfully slapping your husband on the shoulder. 

“Stop being so hot and I’ll stop knockin’ you up.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing damn well you’d have a whole army of his kids if he really wanted. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Alright, you need to get your ass to work and I need to feed the gremlins before I drop Lucy off at preschool. Let’s go, cowboy.” You grinned, playfully smacking Javi on the ass, giving him a quick kiss as you made your way towards the door. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Osita. I gotta remember to call my dad on the way into work.” 

“Call your dad? Why?” 

“To see if Abuelo can take the girls this weekend so you and I can catch up on a lot of laundry.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

@purpleprincess75

[its-avalon-08]

Ok so this is a bit unique tbh, but can you write a story about being alexandra saint mleux's sister can falling for lando norris??? like you love charles and alex because THEYRE SO CUTE and u end up falling for lando. include alot of fluff anf cuteness. Thanks!

stop it ily so much for this! i adore adore adore charles and alexandra and omg have u seen his recent post? because leo the puppy u are ily so much what the heck! ok so here is my attempt at making this AMAZING request come true!

paddock love (ln4)

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡

y/n watched with a grin as charles spun her sister alexandra around in a clumsy waltz, their laughter echoing through the posh monegasque apartment. "ugh, you two are giving me cavities," you teased, collapsing onto a plush sofa.

alexandra, cheeks flushed, swatted playfully at charles. "mind you, y/n, you could find yourself a love story in the paddock too, you know."

you scoffed. "yeah, right. like any f1 driver has time for a normal person like me."

suddenly, the apartment door swung open, revealing a grinning lando norris and carlos sainz. "speaking of normal people," lando winked at you, his blue eyes sparkling. "ready for that movie night, y/n?"

your cheeks warmed. lando had been relentlessly charming ever since you'd met at a charity gala a few weeks ago. he always seemed to find a way to compliment your outfit, your laugh, or even just the way you handled a plate of hors d'oeuvres. it was...disarming.

flashback

the air crackled with nervous energy as you nervously adjusted your borrowed gown. attending a charity gala with your sister, alexandra, a rising wag in the f1 world, was exciting, terrifying, and utterly overwhelming. just as you were about to retreat to the bathroom for the tenth time that night, alexandra materialized beside you, a triumphant grin splitting her face.

"there you are! come meet someone," she said, dragging you towards a group where charles leclerc was holding court, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"y/n, this is lando," charles announced, gesturing towards a tall, lanky figure with a mop of floppy brown hair. "lando, this is my amazing girlfriend, alexandra, and her equally amazing sister, y/n."

lando's smile was like sunshine breaking through clouds. his blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he extended a hand towards you. "amazing is definitely the word for it," he said, his voice a charming mix of british and something vaguely exotic. "it's lovely to meet you, y/n."

you felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you shook his hand. his touch sent a jolt through you, a strange combination of warmth and nervous electricity.

"likewise," you stammered, suddenly hyperaware of the borrowed dress that seemed to suddenly itch everywhere.

alexandra, ever the social butterfly, nudged you playfully. "so, y/n, tell lando about your photography!"

you, relieved for the distraction, launched into a passionate explanation of your latest project, a series capturing the hidden beauty of everyday objects. lando listened intently, his head tilted to one side, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the photos you were showing him on your phone.

"wow, this one is incredible," he said, pointing at a shot of a chipped teacup bathed in warm sunlight. "it's like you found magic in the ordinary."

you beamed. "that's exactly what i'm trying to do!"

the conversation flowed easily from there. you discovered a shared love for vintage cameras and a mutual disdain for overcooked canapés. lando, it turned out, was as funny as he was charming, his quick wit leaving you breathless with laughter.

as the night wore on, alexandra and charles discreetly wandered off, leaving you and lando deep in conversation about the perfect lighting for capturing a raindrop mid-fall.

"so," lando said finally, a playful glint in his eyes, "i hear you're a bit of a photography whiz. maybe you could give me some pointers on capturing the perfect pit stop action shot sometime?"

"me? at a race track?" you couldn't help but laugh. the world of formula one seemed about as far removed from your quiet life as possible.

"why not?" lando shrugged, his grin widening. "besides, charles tells me you make a mean cup of tea. maybe a post-race debriefing is in order?"

the invitation hung in the air, a silent dare. you hesitated, then a slow smile spread across your face.

"alright, lando norris," you said, a playful challenge in your voice. "challenge accepted."

flashback ended

"uh, yeah, sure," you stammered, gathering your things. "see you guys later."

alexandra leaned in conspiratorially. "have fun! and y/n?"

you raised an eyebrow.

"don't be afraid to give him a chance. he might surprise you."

the movie night was...something. lando insisted on a ridiculous rom-com, complete with over-the-top declarations of love and pratfalls that had you snorting with laughter. halfway through, he paused the movie, leaning close.

"you have the most incredible laugh," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

your cheeks burned. "thanks," you mumbled, looking away.

he chuckled. "is it just the movie, or are you actually starting to blush around me, y/n?"

you swatted him playfully. "maybe a little. but don't get any ideas, lando norizz."

he grinned, unfazed. "ideas are kind of my specialty. so, here's one: how about we ditch this cheesy movie and grab some gelato? my treat, of course."

you hesitated. this was ridiculous. lando norris was a formula one driver, a celebrity living in a world of fast cars and glamorous parties. what did he want with a regular girl like you?

but his smile was so genuine, his eyes so warm, that something inside you melted. "alright," you agreed, a shy smile creeping onto your face.

the gelato shop was a whirlwind of laughter and stolen glances. lando teased you about your ridiculous cone of every flavor imaginable, then pretended to steal a lick. you chased him around the shop, ending up breathless and giggly.

as you walked back to the apartment, the moon casting a silvery glow on the streets, a comfortable silence settled between you. lando stopped, turning to face you.

"you know," he said softly. "you're more fun than any trophy i've ever won."

your heart skipped a beat. he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "maybe alexandra was right," he whispered, his lips hovering tantalizingly close.

before you could even think about it, you closed the gap, meeting his kiss halfway. it was soft, playful, filled with the promise of something more.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, lando grinned.

"so," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "does this mean there's a chance for a "normal guy" like me?"

you couldn't help but laugh. "maybe," you teased. "but only if you promise to keep surprising me."

he leaned in again, his voice a husky murmur. "consider it a done deal."

and under the watchful gaze of the moon, a new love story bloomed, a testament to the fact that sometimes, the most extraordinary things can happen with the most ordinary people.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!

leave a like, leave a comment!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[wlntrsldler]

i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace

fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 

“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 

oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 

he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 

luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 

“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 

luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 

luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 

annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 

“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 

“yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 

the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 

“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 

you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 

you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 

you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 

the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 

“hey!” 

you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 

“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 

luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 

you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 

oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 

as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 

annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 

luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 

luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 

there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 

luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.

luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 

with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 

he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 

“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 

mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 

“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”

“yeah, they’re cute.” 

you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 

“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 

“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”

luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.

he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 

“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 

luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 

luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 

“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 

luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 

as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 

“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”

“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 

“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 

a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 

luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 

your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 

pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 

you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 

as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.

you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 

luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 

“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 

“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 

“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 

your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 

the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 

luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 

you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 

“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”

“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 

maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 

luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 

not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 

“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 

he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 

he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.

[foone]

Alternative names for humanity along the lines of "Homo sapiens" (Wise man) and "Pan narrans" (Storytelling Chimpanzee) that I'm too lazy to look up/make up Latin for:

chef ape

throwing ape

walking ape

The idea being that we're apparently unique in the animal kingdom in that we cook our food, so we're the Chef Apes. We're also one of the best animals at throwing things: humans have more accuracy and strength when throwing stuff than other apes, by a long shot

And apparently our ability to walk slowly for ages was key to our early survival as persistence predators. We can't outrun a gazelle or mammoth or whatever, but we don't tire easily and so we can just keep following it until it runs out of stamina

Pan basipila: the baseball playing Bonobo

If only baseball had a cooking element, it would be the perfect Human Sport.

We need to devise a sport where you cook something, follow someone for a long time, and then throw it at them.

The most human thing is the surprise pie to the face

Also as much as I like Terry Pratchett's suggestion of "Pan narrans" I wouldn't be surprised if we turn out to not be the only animal that tells stories...

Elephants. I bet elephants do.

Like, there was that case where an injured elephant went to a ranger station for help. One it had never been to before, but other elephants had.

The theory being then that some other elephant had told this elephant "hey if you're hurt, go here, the humans will help"

That, combined with how they have burial rituals (some which might indicate there's an elephant religion!), and that we're working on figuring out how elephants communicate...

It wouldn't surprise me if we learn sometimes in the next decade or two that "oh yeah, elephants tell stories too. They've got FICTION."

So "Pan narrans" isn't what I'd want to bet on as our uniquely human thing.

But at the end of the day, maybe the whole idea of there being a uniquely human thing is, in itself, just another story we're telling.

So maybe it is a good fit after all.

But I especially like the idea that we're the Baseball Ape because I have this image in my head of a galactic council of aliens. Some angry alien who looks like Cthulhu had a baby with a spider has the floor, and they're ranting about "why do the Hu-mons deserve a seat?"

The Crogath are stronger, the Eldru are smarter, the Cybernetic Essense lives longer, the Dromans go farther and faster, the Moltriri have us beat in fiction and poetry, what is so special about these damn bipedal fleshbags that makes them unique in the universe?

And then WHAM. Right between the eyes. A handheld translator device, a bit bigger than a modern smartphone, beans the speaker out of nowhere.

And there's an (untranslated) yell in the chamber as the prime representative calls for order.

"WE CAN THROW, MOTHERFUCKER!"

(it takes a while to properly explain the insult. Crogathi (especially drones) don't really have mothers or sexual reproduction, so they don't really get why that would be an insult. It's finally translated as something like "bud-biter")

and it's true. even after the World Series becomes the Galactic Series, no non-human team ever manages to win.

The Eldrul Librarians almost make the cut in 2486 but accidentally piss off the ghost of Colonel Sanders and end up inheriting the Hanshin Tigers' curse.

alien textbooks describe The Colonel as some kind of human patron deity of baseball and cooked avian food, who should not be disrespected at all costs, or his vengeance from his place beyond the grave will be swift and punishing

(they're right)

"Look, we can't PROVE he was why Gemini Noctis went supernova unexpectedly, but given the protests that had happened right beforehand, and the incredible powers ascribed to the human spirits, do you really want to risk it?"

the funniest possible future: humanity gets a key place in galactic politics because we're never able to adequately convince the universe at large that our ghost stories are just that, stories, and they're terrified shitless that we'll unleash spectral torment on them

"humans? look man, living humans are a pushover. you can easily rip them in half, crack their planets with a quark bomb, their ships are little more than tin cans with a tachyon drive taped on the side. but it's not the living humans you have to worry about... it's the ghosts."

"humans are a bit like the Nontilek, with a two-stage lifespan, a grub and an adult. What you think of as "adult" humans is just their infant stage, and they only fully transform once they "die". Once fully hatched into Ghost form, their powers are almost limitless."

you want humans off a colony planet and bomb them from orbit? good luck, now you have a few million ascended humans who can pass through solid matter and can't be killed, and they will never rest until you and your descendants are gone or dead.

you don't believe me? look at this: One of their most popular stories is about them building an empire that spanned a large chunk of their little planet, then having it MURDER THEIR OWN GOD.

It only worked for a few revolutions, and he just came back, promising that one day all of them would join him in the next phase of their lifespan.

They still, to this day, thousands of orbits later, erect little statues of the means they used to execute their deity.

not even the Crogathi, who literally worship death itself, tell stories that frightening to their newly hatched grubs.

Humans are scary, man, stay away and just give them whatever they want.

the rest of the alien's education on the dangers of humans is just a selection of human movies. the sixth sense, poltergeist, ghostbusters, the shining, the devil's backbone, and, of course, field of dreams.

ghosts AND baseball? it's everything they're scared about humans all in one package!

the obvious twist you could do, of course, is simple:

the aliens are right.

humans are a two-phase species where the elder form has immense power but leaves communication and decision making to the younger form, which will be confused and angry if you acknowledge the presence of their elder-stage members among them.

this often leads to them cutting off contact or their elder-stage members causing immense damage through seeming "accidents" on the contacting vessel. This is believed to be some kind of religious prohibition that they are not able to explain.

so it's official contact protocol to pretend you cannot perceive the elder-stage humans among them, and to give them what they want to avoid possible retribution.

No means to combat elder-stage humans has yet been found, and the limits of their power is not known.

All alien captains are required to study the fate of the SS Ennolon, which contacted a lone human craft in the galactic year of 12,783. They had initiated contact and were getting along fine, until the human showed the Droman captain a picture of their "late father".

Captain Droless, accounting for the difficulty in telling humans apart, then pointed at the father sitting in a chair nearby and said "That is them, correct?".

The human looked at the chair, reacted in confusion, then anger, and asked the contacting crew to immediately leave.

It was another 400 cycles before contact could be reestablished between the Droman Federation and the Human Alliance.

the intergalactic guide describes humans as a powerful race of immortal energy beings who have the strange habit of sending their larvae out on missions around the galaxy, occasionally contacting other races, but refusing to acknowledge their elders, except in stories

they seem to frequently put their young in dangerous situations without lifting a hand to help, so this is suspected to be some sort of pilgrimage or coming-of-age ritual.

(From a twitter thread on October 1st, 2022)

[squinch-depraved]

schlatt x single mom!reader part 1 (aside from my post about how you met)

(this will be going up on my ao3 once it's ready, i'll probably edit it and format it differently and stuff so don't be surprised if it's a lil different but tumblr gets the first version)

(if anyone has an idea for a title for this series lmk pls eek)

even though daphne’s alarm clock went off at the same time every morning with the same exact song like, well… clockwork, it still infuriated you to no end. having to wake up to “crazy frog” every damn day since you made the mistake of showing it to her almost a year ago now was bad, but what was worse was how for the past few weeks, you would stub your toe or shin or whatever it may be on one of the dozens of packed up boxes strewn about the cramped studio apartment you shared with your daughter on your way to turning off the godforsaken hello kitty alarm clock. if it weren’t so special to the both of you, you would have chucked it out of one of the two tiny windows you had ages ago.

“up, daphydil. we gotta be at the cafe in 20, opening’s in 2 hours. now, c’mon girlie,” you gently coaxed her out of bed. she was small for a five-year-old, golden brown ringlets messily framing her face and hanging in front of her forever wild eyes. a soft smile played at your lips as you stroked her hair. “there’s my beautiful girl. alright, can you be ready in 10 minutes? i bet you can’t. i bet you can’t so much that if you are ready to go in 10 minutes, shoes and everything, i’ll let you ride on my back all the way to the store. does that sound good?” daphne grinned mischievously and nodded.

“can i have a muffin for breakfast at the store?” she asked.

must be a good day, you thought. she’s talking.

“of course, bear. i’ll make the blueberry ones like you like for both of us, how ‘bout that?”

“okay. stop taking up my 10 minutes, please.”

you laughed and rose off her bed. “that’s fair. the clock starts now, daph, gogogo!” you set a timer on your phone and chuckled to yourself again as she raced to her pile of boxes to pick out an outfit. she had the most eccentric taste for a kindergartener. well, she would be in kindergarten. you had yet to find a school that worked for her— sure, she had only tried preschools, but the amount of other kids there combined with the lack of your presence sent her into a shutdown for almost a week each time. so you decided to homeschool her. school didn’t start for another week, so you still had time to get things sorted. but it was going to be extremely challenging, running the cafe, teaching her, getting moved into the new apartment, and all the other stuff you had to attend to.

for a split second as you walked back over to your own pile of clothes, the man from yesterday flashed through your mind. you couldn’t stop yourself from going over his features while you changed into working clothes; something about him made you want to give him a chance. and so, before you knew it, you were responding to his “thanks again” text he had sent once you parted ways.

you: schlatt. if you’re free, meet us at this address for breakfast. would love to talk. if not, we’re there all day. thanks.

with that, you sent him the location of the store and chucked your phone onto the bed, hissing in regret and running a hand through your hair. the embarrassment was short lived, though, as almost immediately your phone dinged with a response.

jesus, eager much?

but being the hypocrite that you are, you dove for the phone, just as excited as he was.

schlatt: hey!! yeah, sure, i can be there in maybe an hour. see you then!

taking deep breaths, you slid your phone into your back pocket and strapped on your work boots, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“i’m ready.”

“fuck!! oh, jesus, daph, i’m sorry,” you panted. “you scared the shit out of me, girl, you walk too quiet. alright, let me grab a few last things and we’ll go.” she nodded, smiling, and stepped out of your way. after you had locked the door behind you both, she raised her arms as if asking to be picked up and made a grabbing motion. with a dramatic sigh and a roll of your eyes, you squatted down and helped daphne climb on top of your back. once she was settled, you began the trek down the street to the cafe.

you wished more than anything you could see the world through daphne’s eyes. to her, pigeons were fascinating creatures that she could spew off facts about for hours. she was so full of knowledge and so willing to share it; it was how she showed her love. to her, a piece of trash on the ground could be turned into an accessory for a hat, or a decoration, or whatever it may be. she was endlessly creative and resourceful (where she got that from, you had no idea). to her, her mother was a hero. and, god, how you envied her ability to see you that way.

“we’re here!” you announced as you turned the key in the lock and stepped into the dark building. flicking on the lights, you leaned down and let daphne hop off your shoulders. “smells like coffee.”

“i hate the smell of coffee,” daphne mumbled.

“me too, bear. now, c’mon, we gotta get going!! we’re opening soon!”

she began her routine of sweeping the dining area first, and then the kitchen, and then the bathrooms while you turned on all the machines and let a few employees in the back entrance to help start everything up. opening always goes quicker than closing, so it wasn’t long before you opened the doors and let the regulars in.

but among them was schlatt. somehow you had forgotten he was coming, and daphne lit up when she saw him walk in.

“funny man!” she yelled, dropping the tongs she was holding and sprinting around to meet his fistbump from her station at the muffin display.

“daph!! now i gotta wash those again,” you grumbled. “hey, schlatt.” you sheepishly finished wiping down the counter and scanned the store for any customers. luckily, it was saturday, so there were only a few people already seated and enjoying their food; you had some time to talk before the next rush came in.

“child labor, y/n?? really?” he joked, eyeing the menu above you.

“it’s not child labor if you went through labor to have the child,” daphne spoke, repeating a phrase you had said in passing once to a friend.

“oh my god!! daphy, please, can you go make sure the mug shelf is all straight?”

she nodded, glancing at schlatt one last time before she left. he was trying to hold in his laughter, but let out a sputtering chuckle once she walked away.

you closed your eyes and took a breath before speaking. “i’m so sorry. i swear i said that once. like, genuinely one time and she says that whenever someone comments on her working. she’s too smart for her own good, i don’t know what to do with her.”

“you know, you do an awful lot of apologizing when there’s nothing really to be sorry for. she’s hilarious, from what i’ve seen. why do you always try to defend her?”

your face went hot and you stammered a few times. “buy me a drink first, damn, dude…” with a huff, you went back to scrubbing the spotless counter.

“i- fuck. i’m sorry. that’s too much. let me start over, please?” he leaned in a bit, resting his elbow on the surface between you. when you gave him a short nod, he sighed a bit with relief and nodded his head towards a blueberry muffin. “can i get one of those?”

you couldn’t help but grin at his choice of pastry as you packaged it. “anything to drink?”

“what’s your coffee order?”

“three cans of diet coke. i don’t drink that shit,” you tried to jest but it sounded bitter.

he blinked a few times and nodded. “good, me neither. i was willing to, though, let that be known.”

with a laugh, you replied, “noted. here, take a seat and i’ll bring you a lemonade? daph’s idea, she thought it would be refreshing to keep in stock for the heathens like us who don’t drink bean juice.”

“sounds good. i’ll be over here,” he called as he walked towards a table hidden away in the corner. you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you poured two lemonades, thanking the stars above you remembered to actually make some this morning. usually nobody ordered any until the afternoon.

setting the two glasses on the table as you slid into the seat across from him, you shot one final glance at your assistant manager, who was running the counter while you took a few minutes to talk with schlatt. luckily, she was too busy with a customer asking for a refill to make a face at you and your new potential suitor.

“holy shit, that’s fancy lemonade. is that mint on top?”

“yeah, daph says it ‘enhances the flavor profile,’ or some shit. she likes food network a lot.”

he eyed the green sprig and took a cautious sip, eyebrows raising once he made a decision on the flavor. “she’s really smart, man. i never woulda thought of this. how old is she?”

“five. she has autism; she’s always been crazy genius. i don’t know how to keep up with her, she’s already smarter than me,” you chuckled quietly. “she’s so creative, too. i can’t find a school good enough to teach her things, she has a hard time being away from me and it’s just a whole thing. speak of the devil, actually.” daphne was skipping across the dining area and sat down in the seat next to you. “hey, bear!”

“i’m not a devil, mama.”

“it’s an expression, baby. remember? like, ‘easy as pie?’”

“oh yeah. because we tried to make pie and it went really bad.”

you sighed, smiling, and rested your head in your hands. “yes, bear. ‘speak of the devil’ just means, ‘here comes the person we were just talking about!’”

daphne pulled out a notebook from her apron pouch and took a pen from your shirt pocket to write down her new phrase.

“what’s that?” schlatt asked her. “you’re five and you know how to write??” you opened your mouth to tell him, but daphne beat you to it.

“i like to write things down so i can talk better.”

“i think you talk just fine, personally.”

both of you flicked your eyes up to squint at him, curling your mouths in the same look of confusion and intrigue.

“oh my god, you two look identical making that face, that’s hilarious,” he mumbled through a mouthful of muffin. at the same time, daphne and you side-eyed each other and started laughing.

“mama says i talk just fine too, but nobody else ever did. now two people think i talk good. maybe you could be my dad,” she wondered aloud. you choked on your lemonade and slammed it back onto the table, spilling some onto the old, damaged wood.

“okay, daph. can you go get me some paper towels from the back to clean this up and then go see if anyone needs help putting sprinkles on the donuts?”

“i already looked, the donuts are done. but the syrups need refilling.”

“okay, go do that, bear.”

“mhm.”

she skipped away, oblivious to what she had just started, and returned a moment later with a roll of towels to clean up. it was silent until she left for the second time.

“you’re gonna trust a five-year-old to refill syrup bottles?”

“she’s actually steadier than i am. she came up with, like, a whole system, it’s really cool. and she’s not by herself, we have a highschooler that’s working with us for the summer, she helps her.”

thank god that’s the first thing he brought up.

“mm. listen, i understand how kids are, we don’t have to talk about what she just…”

“yeah. thanks. she’s, um… she just kinda says what’s on her mind; i can’t stop her.”

“i get it. so, uh,” he rotated his now half-empty glass a few times as he went over what to say in his mind. “why does your nametag say ‘owner?’”

with a glance down at your badge, you slunk down in your chair. “this is my parents’ store. they always wanted me to take over, and i kind of didn’t have a choice after mom fell down the stairs over there. they used to live above the cafe, now they’re in a home and i have to run this dump. at least i get to move out of my studio and into this place, though. if i can ever find the time to actually get my stuff from one place to another.” you sounded more and more dejected as you went on, unable to meet his gaze.

“i can help you move,” schlatt offered smoothly. you smiled, but shook your head.

“nah, man, we have a lot of stuff. it’d be too much to ask of you.”

“shut the fuck up, it’s fine. look, how about we make a trade? i’ll help you move if you let me take you out on a date.”

you blinked a few times in confusion as your face heated up. “m-maybe, dude. i dunno. look, we’re in a rush now, i’ve gotta get behind the counter and try to help my employees get this under control. i’ll come back in a bit.” you gestured to the line that was almost out the door and rose from your seat.

“lemme help!”

his words stopped you in your tracks. “what??”

“let me help,” he repeated, “it’s clear you need it, you’ve got three guys besides you and one of them is a toddler.”

he had a point. flustered, you waved for him to follow you. “just put on an apron and wash your hands.”

the rush of patrons took about an hour to deal with; they just kept coming. schlatt handled everything with grace, upselling people on pastries when they only ordered a coffee and making casual conversation with the usual customers that came in to ask about you and your family.

he was so much better at dealing with chaos than you thought he would be. for some reason, you were expecting him to dip out as soon as he could. it was hard to picture him wanting to hang around after learning about you and how complicated you were. but for some unknown reason, he stayed. you watched him with a soft smile on your face as he undid his apron and hung it back up before stepping around to the other side of the counter.

“wasn’t so bad,” he teased, flicking his head towards the lemonade dispensers. “gimme another one of those.” you pushed the hand that was extending a credit card towards you away and turned around to grab a to-go cup.

“you kickin’ me out?” he asked, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“i can’t work right with you here. need to think. so, i guess, just… show up here at 8 tonight wearing something nice and ready to take me somewhere. you’re gonna help me move my stuff this weekend.” unable to look him in the eyes as your face burned, you handed him the drink and quickly crossed your arms when he took it.

“i am, huh?” he was grinning as he took the straw between his teeth.

“yes.” you swept some crumbs away with your foot and glanced at him for a split second.

“alright, y/n. you like steak?”

“i guess. haven’t had it in years, it’s too expensive…” you mumbled.

“perfect. i’ll see you at 8, toots. bye, daphne!” he waved to the girl who was sitting at the table with an elderly woman sketching something in her notebook.

“bye, funny man!” she called back, not looking up from her drawing. the woman across from her looked shocked at her words.

“bye, schlatt!” you waited until he was down the street before jumping up and down a few times and pumping your fists in the air.

“got a date?” the woman watching daphne asked across the nearly empty store.

“uhm. yeah, actually, i do, mrs. reid,” you stuttered.

“need me to watch daphne for you?”

“yeah, that would be super helpful, actually.” you brought her a new cup of tea and traded it for her old one. “on the house.”

“she’s been talking a lot more.”

running one hand through your hair, you sighed and sat down next to daphne. “yeah, we’ve been working on it a lot. something about schlatt makes her open up. anything to say, bear?”

she just stuck her tongue out in concentration and continued drawing pigeons.

“that’s okay, daphy. you don’t ever have to talk if you don’t want to.” with a gentle pet of her head, you stood up and walked back behind the counter to help a customer that had just come in. you were unable to stop yourself from running over the events of the morning in your head, focusing on how schlatt would smile at you and how he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

you just have to be careful, you kept telling yourself. don’t get your hopes up.

it was too late. you couldn’t help it; your hopes were high. he made you feel… normal again. it had been almost six years since you felt that way. now you were just praying it would last, even if for only a night.

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ personal trainer!jungkook ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request: closed

inspo from tiktok

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

//

personal trainer!jungkook has trained a handful of people, but you have to be the most entertaining one yet. every morning you walk in with your 32oz hydroflask filled with water and ice and a sleepy smile. he thinks it's the funniest thing ever because you don't even end up drinking half of what you're bringing. he always teases you about it. in return, you mock him regarding his newest haircut (secretly loving every style on him) and how his commitment issues shouldn't be so obvious. he rolls his eyes, laughs, and playfully throws punches your way.

personal trainer!jungkook would listen to your new boyfriend stories in between sets and hate it. sometimes, he'd purposely mis-count your reps just so he can feel like he avenged himself. when you catch on to his "lack" of math skills, you groan, "you hate me, don't you?" he'd nod, saying yes but he'd mean no.

personal trainer!jungook's favourite day is legs/ass day. your ass pump has to be what gets him through the week (specifically why he suggested legs/ass day to be 4 times a week). he loves it when you wear your light pink fucking lululemon set. some days, you'll even tie your hair up and add a little ribbon to it. he'll flick it, saying you look stupid but what is actually stupid is how much he likes it on you. you joke, "i'll take it off if you'll let me tie it around your biceps hehehhee..." he scrunches his nose at you and chuckles, "in your dreams, princess." ... all of this has him acting up, tbh. when you do your squats, he takes breaks. he looks away or makes dumb excuses like needing to check something at the front desk just so he can ease his nerves. or, he’ll simply go to the washroom to splash his face with cold water. when he comes back, he helps spot you. you (purposely) arch your back too much whenever you do this set. you do this set quietly. he watches quietly. with other exercises, he helps improve your posture. "so, when you come up, you're going to squeeze your glutes, yeah? w-what's so funny?" you snicker at him and throw your head back. "n-nothing! you have a cute bum." he glares at you. "shut up." you put your hands up but quickly drop them to his bum level and pretend to squeeze them. "my ass is like... twice yours." jungkook then chuckles, "i know. i built it. i own that ass."

personal trainer!jungkook knows what he's doing when he wears his fucking compression shirts. white, black, grey, navy blue—any. your favourite combination has to be the classic white with grey sweats. god, it's crazy. his body is carved in the most sexy way possible... it's enough to get you to the gym even when you're on your period. what makes this worse is that he's usually in a cheekier mood when he's in his compression shirts. maybe it's because he knows he's hot... it's also times like these where you act a lot cuter during your workouts. "and then when you pull down like this... you're basically working on your lats—" jungkook pauses and gives you a look. you smile, snickering at him because you finally know what your lats are and it's all thanks to him. low, he offers you his high-5. you high-5 him and then close your hands together. like a little handshake, he squeezes your hand and for a moment—just a mere fleeting moment—you two hold hands.

personal trainer!jungkook knows you respond well to praise. when he knows you had a heavier training day the day before, he's nice enough to give you low-intensity work outs the next day. still, as you struggle to push through, he doesn't let you cut out. instead, he empowers you and feeds your delulu. "you got this, ___. come on, drive it up. yes! just like that. mhmm, good, good. good job, mama. one more, last one... yes! see? knew you could do it. that's what i like to see! let's fucking goooo!" you catch your breath and glare at him. "i h-hate you." he shrugs. "proud of you. you did well. rest up... you have one more set."

[zeroslashsix]

Following my Gambit post, I love love love the way Rogue's powers are handled in X-Men Evolution. Like Gambit, Rogue tends to have a certain set of 'roles' when she's in a show/movie: she's focused on inner torment about her powers, on being a Spicy Southern Belle, or her romantic connections. Which is to say, her stories are usually about emotions and relationships, which is fine, I love those parts of her as much the rest. But if she's not fighting, her powers are only really viewed through a lens of how she feels about them, and how they impact her ability to connect with others.

And here's X-Men Evolution, fully leaning into the fact that Rogue’s power is one of the most dangerous in the entire show. I love the s3 ep "Self-Possessed" so much because it takes the brakes off her, and really commits to the idea that stacking powers is catastrophic when you consider she can wield multiple omega-level powersets at the same time. Her main limitation is that she doesn't want other personalities in her head, she limits her power usage because she just doesn't like it, and yeah, totally fair, but Rogue could absolutely wake up one day, go through the mansion and decide to be an omega squared. X-Men Evolution is about teenagers who are still figuring out their abilities, even at the end of the series when they're a year (two years?) older. By the finale, they have more control and training, but they are absolutely still growing into adulthood and have not reached full potential.

Which is why I think "Self-Possessed" is such a fascinating look at Rogue's powers. Every iteration of Rogue imposes a time limit on her absorption, meaning that any powers she absorbs will only stay with her for a short time. But in that episode, when she's succumbing to all those personalities in her head, her time limit stops existing. She can access powers for months, maybe even years after the initial absorption. Mystique's powers couldn't have given Rogue that ability; the only way Rogue could do such a thing is if that potential already exists inside of her. This implies that when she absorbs a power, that power stays inside her as long as the personality does, and her "time limit" is just a matter of control, or lack thereof.

This seems to be backed up by the s3 finale, where Mesmero and Mystique mind control Rogue to gather powers, and Rogue proceeds to SWEEP the X-Men, Brotherhood, Acolytes, and Magneto in less than 24 hours. By the end of it, she seems fully capable of using any and all their powers at will, ignoring any sort of time limit. Mesmero can mind control others, but he can't enhance them. He cannot give someone powers they don't already possess. The only reason Rogue could do all that is because she was already capable of it, and the fact Mesmero could mind control this out of her seems to imply that Rogue's limitations are entirely self-imposed, mostly mental/emotional, or maybe a lack of experience. (Similar to the season four finale where Rogue seems to use Leech’s power better than he does, probably just because he’s a little kid and she’s an adolescent so has a better grasp on powers in general)

Like, no wonder Mystique and Destiny wanted her powers. No wonder Magneto was so thrilled to have her in the ranks in the first season. No wonder so many people in the world want to use her; she is the all-mutant, the living multi tool that can gather multitudes of power in one place and then combine them. The only reason she isn't considered omega-level is pure technicality; in terms of destruction she could actually lay down, Rogue is absolutely as dangerous as plenty of omegas. The requirements for an omega are 1) infinite power, and 2) limitless power. Rogue has the first one; she can stack an infinite number of powers. But she lacks the second; all her powers must come from the outside, and she cannot generate them herself. But if she has access to multiple omega powersets like she does in Self-Possessed, that technicality kind of stops mattering once the punches actually start flying.

Which all leads into Rogue's main emotional journey through X-Men Evolution, which is perhaps my favorite she's ever had: being used. That's why she was adopted. That's why she was raised being unable to touch, being lied to by both her moms. That's why she was taken into the Brotherhood, and it's why Mystique will never leave her alone. Extra fascinating because after the reveal in season one that Mystique is Kurt's mother, Mystique leaves Kurt completely alone for the rest of the series, while simultaneously stalking and manipulating Rogue. Why the difference? Because Kurt is not a useful tool. Not compared to Rogue. And I think Rogue sees that difference, which makes for such a juicy dynamic when Kurt is so interested in actually loving Mystique, for insisting that Rogue should forgive their mother and 'let hatred go,' because he genuinely thinks that anyone can be saved with enough love. Whereas Rogue, who has seen Mystique's 'love' up close for her whole life, is desperately trying to get away from that, with good reason.

One of the reasons I wish we’d had more seasons, or at least more episodes in the last season, is how seamlessly Rogue’s feelings about her powers flowed into her feelings around being used, her feelings around family, and being dehumanized to the point of mind-wipe by her own mother. Yes she’s sad about the no-touching thing, but that’s nothing compared to being seen as a literal object in the eyes of others, because her powers are utterly perfect—for someone else to use. Which flows into questions of bodily autonomy, of who her powers “belong to” vs. who they “should belong to.” Especially considering that Rogue is only at full power when she loses control/is under someone else’s control, which could lead someone to conclude, “Well of course Rogue should be under someone’s control, preferably mine. She’s so powerful when someone else is controlling her, and so weak when she controls herself. It’s honestly such a waste for Rogue to be her own person when she could be so much more. She needs to be used to reach her full potential.”

In a perfect world, we’d have way more X-Men Evo than we got. More seasons, more episodes, more time to explore whatever the hell Rogue had going on. And if I was allowed to pick, I would have loved to see Rogue with a character arc of self-ownership. In particular, it would be so cool to see her powers develop to the point she can have a “Self-Possessed” crisis and control it, fully aware of herself and all the powers she holds. I’d love to see her use those powers for her own benefit, on purpose, independent of both her mother and the X-Men. I’d love to see a self-serving Rogue in the XMenEvo. Not necessarily evil (though it would be a fascinating villain arc) but a Rogue who chooses selfishness as an act of rebellion. Who can use all those powers simultaneously, consciously, and disobediently. Vengeance, maybe? Or something that heightens humans’ fear of mutants? I’d love to see Rogue become inconvenient to the X-Men, at the very least, either physically or philosophically. Certainly nothing so dire as the Phoenix saga, but something that uses her powers to their fullest extent. (Damn could you imagine Rogue as the Horseman of Death if this went in the opposite direction. How fucking overpowered would Death!Rogue be, how the hell would the X-Men deal with that)

Anyways. Fanfiction is the folklore of the now or whatever. And XMenEvo was already a crazy high school AU anyway.

[bvidzsoo]

An Imprisoned Nightingale

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: violence, a lot of manhandling, cursing, and mentions of human trafficking

Pairing: Choi San x female reader

Word count: 15,4k

Summary: Choi San was everything you needed him to be. A hunter? He’d hunt down anything for you. An assassin? You wanted someone dead, he’d do it. An inside man? That information you needed; he’d bring it to you. He was a mercenary. Ruthless, fearless, uncaring, unfeeling. All he dreamed of was money and power. Everyone who heard his name feared him, people stepped aside on a busy road for him, women never approached him out of fear of being captured and then sold by him. You loved singing, despite working as a waitress, you dreamed of performing on a stage one day. Your whole life you've worked hard, knowing that one day you'll be discovered and your life would change; you'd become a performer for the wealthy. And your life did change, but instead, you became a prisoner, soon to be sold off by nobody else than Choi San. (Reader is called Im Ara in the following oneshots.)

A/N: My God, writing this was a whole ass ride, I want to punch San personally lol. It's never explicitly said that it's human trafficking, but it's quite obvious that it's that. :// I don't go into much detail about it, so yeah...the third part of the series is up and I hope you'll enjoy it. Hongjoong's part will be up in around two to three weeks because I'm going on vacation. If you want to be added to the taglist, just comment on the post. And don't forget to let me know what you think about this part, enjoy now!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329

Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part

           The sun shone down on the little cottage sitting by the end of the cobblestone street, stationed somewhere on the outskirts of the bustling city. The neighborhood was quiet, most families living in the neighboring cottages being of working class, with three to four children. I liked this part of the city, because everyone was nice and it was clean. The further you ventured inside the city, the dirtier and louder it got. It was an industrial city and the markets reeked of fish and pigs; the smells combined disgusting. If I could, I stayed away from that side of the city, content with the serenity the outskirts offered. And perhaps living here felt like I was closer to achieving my dreams. If I walked down the path leading towards the forest and hiked for an hour, I would arrive to a huge clearing adorned by a house smaller than a castle, yet bigger than a mansion. The Royal Family loved coming here during the summer, it was their little hideout. Wealthy businessmen and gorgeous rich ladies would walk the streets, all headed towards the Royal Family’s place, invited for an afternoon tea or perhaps a midnight ball. I always peaked out the window when I heard horses pulling carriages by the house, knowing very well that all I could do for now was admire from afar. I was working towards to achieving my dream, but I was still a long way from it. The false sense of richness and wealth this little cottage offered was nothing but fake. I could barely afford it, sometimes not having money for weeks lead me to cultivating my own garden, which turned out to be a lot harder to do than I had initially expected it to be. The elderly family living next door wasn’t very keen of the idea, saying it lured foxes and other kinds of animals from the forest, threatening their chickens and other pets they kept around, acting as if their animals weren’t the ones drawing in the wild life from the forest. I learned to ignore the couple’s nagging, but continued keeping an eye on them, making sure they wouldn’t attempt sabotaging my little garden.

I had opened the windows, the warm breeze carrying inside as I dusted everything off with a wet cloth. It’s been a week since I’ve had a full day to myself, and so I took advantage of it, and cleaned up my house. It was quite easy and fast as it had only three chambers and a small bathroom, however, my thoughts stole me away from reality quickly and so, this simple task turned into an unnecessarily longer one. The modest pink dress I was wearing seemed to turn into a carefully designed, soft fabric, night gown, making me look like a princess. My short hair always seemed to be pulled into intricate braids, quite impossible in real life as I could barely tie it up into a low ponytail. And the wet cloth I was holding in my hands suddenly turned into a white tissue, or sometimes a small purse, occupying my hands, saving me from feeling too awkward. My humble living room turned into a huge ballroom decorated by expensive marble and low hanging golden chandeliers, paintings from other Kingdoms brought in, captivating everyone’s attention. The living room which only I was occupying was suddenly filled with hundreds of wealthy people, laughing and conversing, enjoying each other’s company. I stood to the sidelines, observing everyone, finding myself smiling at a little girl dancing by herself. She seemed to be lost in her own world, oblivious to everyone around her as she went closer to the band of musicians, the violin catching her attention. My legs started moving and I found myself walking over, approaching her.

“Pretty instrument, isn’t it?” I asked softly, making her look at me with big eyes.

“It sounds lovely.” She said shyly, looking away when I glanced at her. I nodded my head and clasped my hands behind myself, having to agree with the little girl.

“You’re quite lovely as well, little one.” I said with a smile and the girl chuckled, twirling around, showing off her pale blue dress. It complimented her similar colored eyes well, her tan skin glowing underneath the candle lights.

“I like the shade of pink your dress has.” She complimented me back, showing how well raised she was. I thanked her quietly and a woman rushed towards us, panting lightly.

“Here you were,” She muttered as she took her daughter’s hand into hers, slightly relaxing, “Stop walking away from me, Y/N, it’s not safe for a little girl like you to be alone.”

How peculiar, her name was the same as mine. The woman finally seemed to notice me and when she looked up, and made eye contact with me, she seemed to be in awe. She smiled brightly and extended her hand.

“It’s an honor meeting you, Miss Im,” She spoke up as I shook her hand, “My name is Im Nara.”

“Lovely meeting you, Mrs. Im.” I said pleasantly, listening to the woman’s rant about her wishing to meet me sooner but she wasn’t capable of attending balls due to her daughter being too young, and her wish was to bring her child to these exquisite gatherings with herself. I felt accomplished as I listened to the woman, her praises warming my heart, allowing me to take pride in myself. I have worked hard to get on this level, to be recognized and appreciated by men and women alike, even children. Anyone who had a mildly nice voice could become a recognized singer in their little town, but I stayed persistent, hard-working, and never allowed anyone to push me down, and that’s how I became so well known in the four seas and four kingdoms. Queens and Kings requested me to sing at their balls, weddings, and sometimes even invited me over for a quiet afternoon tea, making sure I had everything I needed. I was living the lavished life I always wanted and for once in my life, I felt accomplished.

I excused myself from the woman and her child as the lovely musicians stopped playing and announced that a special performer would entertain the guests for an hour now. I smiled and after taking a sip of water, soaking my throat for a little, I walked up to the middle of the stage and bowed my head, “Welcome, everyone, I hope your evening has been lovely so far. Allow me to entertain you for the following hour, I have been Im Y/N.”

And so I allowed my voice to grab everyone’s attention as I started singing a soft tune everyone knew. The song was about a pair in love whom had to go through hardships in life before they found each other and settled for a simple life. The man was a fisherman and the woman a princess, but she gave up everything for him. Her parents were strict and never allowed her to love someone freely, so she ran away from home and accidentally bumped into the love of her life on a pirate ship. Not many lived to tell the tale of such an encounter as pirates were known to be ruthless and scary, yet somehow, the princess seemed to charm the sailor. Everyone clapped when I finished the song and I cleared my throat, continuing with the next one, my powerful voice resounding in the expanse of the vast room, bouncing back off the walls. Once my little act of entertainment was over, everyone clapped loudly and I bowed deeply, thanking them for their attention and appreciation before I walked off the stage, headed to the little bar to ask for some water to freshen up my vocal chords.

A few minutes have barely passed since I had gotten off the stage and I was already surrounded by various people, each trying to grab my attention. I chatted with the lovely ladies, complimenting their outfits or jewelry, getting invited to their get togethers in return as a performer. The single wealthy men seemed to watch me from afar before reluctantly approaching me, remaining delicate as if they were scared I would run away. Some tried to win me over with tales of their doings, or by bragging about their money, something I wasn’t interested in. The one and only question they had to answer was that if we ever fell in love and married one day, would they want me to be a pretty trophy staying at home all day long and doing nothing or would they let me to continue my singing career. If the answer was that they’d prefer I stayed at home, I would excuse myself and find company from someone else, however if they said I was allowed to continue singing, I would entertain the conversation, wondering if we were a match made in Heaven. However, nobody ever seemed to be good enough. Their personalities just pushed me away as I didn’t feel appreciated enough, and I found peace in my solace, content with being able to fend for myself and live a happy life.

The King’s second cousin seemed to find me in the crowd of people and he invited me over to their table, asking me to sit with them. It was an honor, so I couldn’t refuse. I greeted everyone politely and the women were quick to ask where my gown was from and if they sent an invite to sing at their birthday parties, if I would come. I chuckled and told them that if I was free I would gladly do so, making them squeal in excitement before they whispered to each other excitedly. I accepted the glass of champaign from the King’s second cousin and he made a silly toast, the table erupting in laughter. As I took a sip from the champaign, I felt eyes watching me. I attempted to look around the room, but the culprit was sitting right across from me. He was a very handsome man. His jet-black hair was gelled back, a few stray strands falling into his sharp, slit like eyes, their color a deep brown. His lips were plump and glistened from having licked them after taking a sip of his own champaign, the bridge of his nose tall, complimenting his manly face well. His aura was rather intimidating, yet no malice radiated off of him. Catching myself staring at him, I blushed, and quickly looked away, making the man smile. His whole demeanor seemed to change once a charming smile was on his lips, he looked rather endearing. He was wearing a General’s uniform, making it quite clear that he was part of the Royal Guard. I have never seen such good-looking man, and I found myself wishing to talk to him, bewitched. He seemed to be quiet as he observed the people around the table, only speaking when spoken to and rarely laughing or smiling. My heartrate picked up when we made eye contact again, becoming shy as he flashed me a small smile, his adorable dimples showing. The King’s second cousin tapped my hand to gain my attention and I looked at him with a smile, trying to focus on the conversation at hand rather than at the handsome General.

“Tell us, Miss Im,” The King’s cousin started, with a cheeky smile, “Still haven’t found your other half?”

I chuckled, a little embarrassed that my love life was brought up in front of the General, but played it off, “I haven’t, Sir, it seems as though the perfect match for a hopeless romantic like myself doesn’t exist.”

The people at the table laughed at my words, apparently funnier than I thought they were as I was being honest, but it seemed to gain the General’s attention. He sat up straighter in his seat and raised his glass when he caught me peaking at him, lightly tilting it in my direction. I grabbed my own glass of champagne and nodded, the two of us drinking from our glasses at the same time, “Well, dear Miss Im, I feel it became my personal mission to find you an educated and well-mannered man.”

I truly wished the King’s second cousin stopped talking, but he was tipsy and his filters disappeared, “Everyone at this table, however, is already married—”

“I am not.” All eyes fell on the General, who’s voice demanded respect, not too deep yet not high pitched either. I couldn’t help but blush and avert my eyes when his gaze became too much, and the King’s second cousin let out a satisfied sound.

“How silly of me!” He exclaimed, and stood, taking my hand in his, “Let’s introduce you to General Choi.”

Despite wanting to act coy, I couldn’t help but feel excited as the King’s cousin walked us around the table, towards the General, who stood up. I couldn’t help but find myself mesmerized by his presence, his eyes drawing me in. Who was this man? Have I finally found my other half? And as the General extended a white glowed hand to shake, loud knocking caught my attention. I glanced around to see if anyone else heard it, but nobody moved, nobody reacted. I smiled, a little tense, and went to shake the General’s hand, when the knocking turned into banging. I jumped, frightened, watching as the image around me became washed out, fading away. I panicked and tried to hold onto the General’s hand, desperately wishing for him to be real, but instead, I found myself crashing against the front door.

“Im Y/N! Open the door!” The scratchy voice of the landlady made me groan, head resting against the door as my perfect fantasy faded away. I wasn’t the famous singer anymore attending balls of the wealthy, getting invited to get togethers and birthday parties, meeting the love of my life. I was just a poor girl living in a cottage I could barely afford, working at an Inn which didn’t pay well, and also, I have barely cleaned anything in the house.

I sighed, and opened the front door, “Were you trying to ignore me, cheeky girl?!”

“No, Mrs. Yoon, I was just—”

“Disturbing everyone with your loud screeching.” The woman interrupted me rudely, making my jaw clench. The one screeching here was her and not me.

“Where’s my money, anyway?” My eyebrows furrowed and I quickly glanced behind me, eyes falling on the calendar I designed myself placed on the wall. The end of the month would be in two weeks, why was she asking for rent right now?

“You’re a bit early on rent, Mrs. Yoon—”

“I’m not early, you’re the one late.” I sucked in a deep breath, telling myself that it was alright if she interrupted me, “You didn’t pay last month, and haven’t paid this month either.”

“Because it’s not the end of the month, yet.” I tried to reason with the old woman, but she just scoffed and gave me a glare.

“You have until the end of the week to pay me last month’s and this month’s rent, young lady.” My stomach churned at her words, realizing I didn’t have enough money for that. And I wouldn’t have by the end of the week either, “And stop screaming.”

That was the last straw as my patience evaporated and I snapped at the old hag, eyes narrowed at her, “I’m singing, not screaming!”

The old woman just scoffed and turned on her heels, stalking off as she kept throwing glares at my way, making me grimace at her before I slammed the door shut, doom seemingly looming over my head. I can’t lose the cottage, what am I supposed to do now?!

            My free day passed by quickly and I found myself almost oversleeping my shift, having to get ready in a frenzy. Usually the afternoon naps I took to be able to work all night long were short, however, after working all day in the garden beforehand left me tired and I didn’t wake up in time. I was lucky I had prepared my dress before going to sleep and all I had to do was put it on before running out the door, wishing I owned a horse as I would get to the Inn faster. It was a good twenty minutes’ walk away, on top of a hill to make my life even more torturing than it already was. The petite sandals I wore to match the dress weren’t made for running and my feet kept tangling together every second step, making me lose my cool quite quickly. I could usually control my temper, but sometimes the smallest things got to me. However, I managed to be on time and the Inn’s owner gave me a glance and a nod of approval before she told me to put on my apron and start waitering the tables. Thankfully, I managed to convince the owner to allow me to sing in the weekends, entertain the guests a little without her having to pay me for it, the tips of the people would do. At the beginning it was awkward as the people seemed to find it weird, but after getting used to it, more and more people started coming to the Inn, intrigued by the new form of fun. Sometimes drunk sailors who were passing through the city would ask me to sing them old tales, something I didn’t know even existed until now, making me become an expert at them in about just a month. Sometimes people wished for lullabies, some sad ones, and I would do as they asked despite the Inn not being a place for feeling nostalgic. My favorite ones were the catchy ones, to which everyone sang along and sometimes even danced if the atmosphere was right.

Tonight it seemed to be a busy night as all tables were occupied, somebody entering the Inn every fifteen minutes. My act of entertainment lasted less as I had to help out the other girls, but I promised to sing to the people more when I had a little free time, making them cheer loudly. Unfortunately, my singing career hasn’t taken off in the real world like in my fantasy world, I was not invited to wealthy outings. I hoped and prayed every night that it would happen sooner than later, trusting in it and allowing the Heaven’s to guide me. I couldn’t let my dream go to waste; I wouldn’t accept living a normal, regular life. Not when I was talented, not when I loved singing. I knew my worth, I knew I deserved more than working in a run-down Inn, the payment not even enough to live in a nice, small cottage.

“Hey, Y/N, bring us another jug!” I heard a regular calling out drunkenly and I sighed, running up to the bar and filling five jugs with beer. I placed them on my tray and walked up to their table, placing the jugs of beer on the table and taking the empty ones. As I was walking back to the bar to wash the used jugs, I felt someone tugging on my skirt, halting my steps. I turned around, eyebrows furrowed at who was grabbing me.

“Can you bring us more beer too?” It was a man, teeth crocked and clothes dirty, quite foul smelling. I tried to keep a straight face, having not recognized him as he wasn’t a local. I nodded wordlessly and yanked the skirt of my dress out of his grip, sighing to myself. The other girls were working hard, everyone busy with their own tables and I watched one as I filled three more jugs with beer. She was the youngest and quite pretty, but she allowed men to touch her too much. They were all over her, groping her, saying disgusting things to her. And she remained silent, she just took it, and even flirted back, making me feel sick to my stomach. No man has ever touched me, not here and not anywhere else. I wouldn’t allow a lowlife to taint me, when I knew there were good man out there too, the ones who were on my level, the ones who would treat me right. I walked with the jugs of beer back to the table of the unknown man, placing them down on the table. They looked at me and snickered at each other, but I ignored it. I was usually very nice to everyone, always smiling and soft-spoken, but I did not like their approach towards me, therefore I tried to convey the very obvious message without having to say something. However, they seemed to not catch onto it, as the same man who grabbed me before, suddenly held onto my skirt again.

“Listen, pretty lady,” He slurred, making me glare down at him, “We’re just passing through the city and decided to stop here tonight, heard there was a really good singer. And you weren’t just good, look at how beautiful you are too!”

“Thank you.” I managed to say and tried to pull my skirt out of his grip, but he was holding it rather firmly.

“Do you get paid enough?” I didn’t answer his intruding question, just tugged on the skirt again, “Well, there’s always more ways to make money, beautiful, and I could give you not just that, but a memorable night too—”

“Let go of my skirt, right now.” I snapped, my voice raising. The man looked taken aback by my demeanor, all softness and kindness having disappeared.

“That’s not how a lady should talk like—”

“I said, let go of my skirt.” I yanked rather harshly on it, finally getting it free from his grip. The man didn’t seem too happy and when I went to walk away, he grabbed my wrist, looking at me with a sneer.

“You should respect men more—” I chuckled, gripping his wrist back with my other hand, glaring at him as I cut his words off.

“A lowlife like you should respect women more—” Then I squeezed his wrist hard, making him hiss as he released my hand suddenly, “And don’t touch me.”

Well, I have angered the man now, and he stood up, trying to get all up in my face, but I pushed him hard enough to have him sit back down. He was being loud and a few people started glancing our way, “How dare a bitch like you talk to me like that?! As if you don’t sell your body—”

The slap which cut his words off resounded in the whole room, making people look at us wide eyed. The man was speechless for a few seconds, before his hands turned into fists and he jumped up, about to punch me, but a man stood in front of me, gripping the foreigner’s collar, “We don’t appreciate men who hurt women here, buddy.”

It was the regular who asked for beers before these hooligans, “My advice is you either settle down or get lost.”

The regular was a big man and despite his friendly aura and happy demeanor, he was scary whenever he got angry. You rarely saw him angry, so that’s why it was even scarier when he truly was. He was quite gentle with all the girls here and on busy nights we found him lingering around, looking out for us without a reason. Later we found out he was the owner’s nephew and felt like we were exposed to men like this foreigner, who did not know how to behave, quite frequently, so when he had nothing else to do he’d keep an eye out for us.

The owner of the Inn assessed the situation as she came out from the backroom, and quickly approached us, asking her nephew to release the foreigner, “Sir, please calm down and don’t cause a scene—”

“That bitch can’t behave!” The drunk sailor pointed at me as he screamed, making the owner’s nephew take a threatening step towards him. The sailor cowered a little bit and sat down as his comrades started telling him to stop it, realizing the man looking out for me could knock them out in a fight anytime. He was twice their sizes. The owner motioned for me to follow her and I turned at her nephew for a second, thanking him quietly, before walking towards the backroom.

“What happened out there?” She asked as she sat down in her chair, eyebrows furrowed. I sat opposite her, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“He started touching me and implying disgusting things, so I asked him to stop and he didn’t listen…” I trailed off, looking away as the owner narrowed her eyes at me.

“Did you slap the man?” She knew me too well; I couldn’t even lie. This wouldn’t be the first incident; she has already warned me to behave. I could only hope she wouldn’t fire me; I really didn’t know what I would do next then.

“I did—”

“You should head home,” My eyes widened at the owner’s words, confused as to why, “Your shift would end in an hour either way, so it doesn’t matter much. I don’t have the money, so come back tomorrow for the payment.”

I nodded and got up from the chair, untying the apron from my waist and placing it on her desk, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, good night.” I bowed my head and she stopped me as I got to the door.

“Be careful on your way home, I heard Ateez docked down in the city a few days ago.” When I continued to look confused at my boss, her eyebrows furrowed, “Women have been disappearing, Y/N, I’m telling you to look out.”

“Oh,” I chuckled and brushed off her words, my route not taking me towards the center of the city, “Thank you for your concern, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” My boss muttered and I bowed my head before going outside, leaving through the back of the Inn, not wanting to see that foul foreigner again. I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t have slapped him again if I did see him. Men like him disgusted me. I hated these types of so-called men. They held no value in my eyes, they worth nothing.

I checked my surroundings, my boss’ words getting a little bit to me, but I knew there was nothing to be afraid of. The crime rate in this city was low and since I lived towards the outskirts of it, it was safer than walking towards the center, where the markets were. At night it was littered with drunk men, looking for one-night stands. Perhaps if I lived there, I would have been scared walking alone at night, but here it was fine. I was humming to myself, skipping from one cobalt stone to the other, imagining that I was walking towards my carriage to head back to my little mansion. I would take a bath there, have a ravishing dinner and perhaps gaze at the stars in my rose garden before going to sleep. My butler would be already asleep, and I’d try to remain quiet as to not wake him up, but he’d still wake up, and so I’d ask him to join me in the garden, point out the constellations I was unable to see. He loved astronomy and would talk about it a lot, passing his interest onto me as well. Footsteps behind me made me snap out of my daydream and I looked behind, but nobody was there. I rolled my eyes and continued walking, figuring it was a stray animal or something. But a few minutes later I heard it again, now faster and harder, and before I could panic and take off running, I felt a body collide against mine. I would’ve screamed if it weren’t for the cloth pressed harshly against my mouth and nose, smelling foul, the smell making my throat itch as I inhaled it. I wanted to push this person away, but my muscles went numb fast and my vision started blurring, until it became blacker than the night sky.

            My stomach was violently ill when I finally came to it, the stench of fish unbearable as it made me gag. I moved the back of my hand against my nose, trying to repress the smell, but it wasn’t doing much. My ears seemed to be ringing and I was thrown forward, as if something crushed into us. I didn’t understand the predicament I woke up to at first, confusedly looking around, until my eyes fell on the iron bars holding me captive in a small dice shaped cage. The weight around my wrists finally caught my attention and I looked at them flabbergasted, tugging on the chain, to no avail. I was chained against the wall, having little freedom to move around in the cage. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to remember how and when I got here, but my last memory was of walking home after my boss sent me off. And then it clicked, the foul-smelling cloth pressed against my nose and mouth, I was drugged. I was drugged and brought onto this…ship? A lump formed in my throat as I frantically looked around, assessing the situation, trying to think of something. However, my heart beat faltered when I saw the other girls around me. There were three more cages besides the one I was in and two scared looking girls in each one of them. A quiet whimper caught my attention and I looked to my right, eyes falling on a younger looking girl, who was curled up in a ball, eyes teary. Her wide eyes looked at me, fright bouncing off of her. My heart started beating faster as things started sinking in, and I found it harder to breathe. My throat was closing in on me, restricting any air from getting to my lungs. I tried to divert my attention to anything else, even find comfort in one of my fantasy scenarios, but nothing seemed to work as I felt my face going red, starting to gasp for air.

“Hey, you!” I heard someone slightly raising their voice, making my head snap in their direction. Across from us, in the cage to the right, a middle-aged woman was looking my way, eyebrows furrowed, “What’s your name?”

I licked my lips and tried to suck in a deep breath, but it wasn’t working and I felt like I was about to choke, “No-no, keep breathing, copy me.”

The middle-aged woman started taking deep breaths, counting for me, and I tried to copy her, but nothing happening for a few minutes. Then suddenly, I could feel my throat loosening up and air finally flowing into my lungs, filling them to the brim. I started coughing as I desperately breathed in more air, looking at the woman with gratefulness written all over my face, “My name is Y/N.”

“I’m Hyolin.” She introduced herself and I bowed my head slightly, noticing that she was the only one not crying besides me. Her eyes were red and she kept sniffing, but no tears left her eyes, “We’re on a pirate ship, if you’ve been wondering.”

My heart started beating faster again as I looked around, pulling on the chains of my handcuffs, but they were too strong to break. The chamber was huge and it looked like some sort of basement, filled with supplies, barrels, and a big variety of guns and other weapons. I could see a fishnet filled with a bunch of dead fish and it made my stomach sicker, forcing me to gag as I averted my eyes, falling on my cellmate. She was crying quietly and I fought my own tears from rolling down my cheeks, trying to stop my brain from processing that I was a hostage on a pirate ship.

“For how long was I out?” I whispered to the young girl and she jumped, slowly looking at me. Her body was shaking and she looked at the floor before whispering back that I was out for a whole day. It felt like a punch to my gut and I looked away biting my lower lip, realizing that if I was out for a whole day, we have sailed out onto the sea already, taking me far away from my home. My head started thumping suddenly, all of my dreams slipping right through my fingers. I would never become a famous singer, I would never live a lavished life, I will never be remembered. Instead, I would be either sold off or killed, forever lost on the sea or in some creepy man’s basement. The first tear trickled down my cheek and I quickly wiped it off, the commotion behind the heavy wooden door making my body tremble. There were multiple male voices behind the door before it slowly opened, strong light flooding inside as they walked down the stairs, stalking towards our cages. All of us tried to make ourselves look smaller as the three pirates stopped in front of our cages, looking left and right before opening the cage across from ours.

“Stand up, all of you.” The man inside the respective cage demanded, his voice harsh and frightening, so we did as told. I could only see his backside, but he had jet-black hair and his shoulders were wide and concealed by a black leather jacket. The man seemed to be inspecting all of us, murmuring to himself about our looks. Normally, I wouldn’t have allowed him to make such comments, but right now I was not in a favorable position and my body was shaking from fear. I had no idea why he was doing this and I was scared that one wrong move would get me killed. On this ship I couldn’t do much but try and survive, however, once on land, I could try and run away, asking for help and making sure these monsters were behind bars, in a real prison. The tallest of the three seemed to notice my piercing gaze and I quickly looked down when he raised his eyebrows, lips pulling into an amused smile. There was nothing amusing about this situation.

“So, what do you think?” The other guy, who was the shortest out of them all and had a white cloth wrapped around his right forearm, signaling that he was the Captain, asked in a quite bored tone.

“They aren’t the brightest so far.” The man inspecting us dared to say with a sneer, checking the other girls. My blood boiled at his words, but I bit my lip and continued glaring at the floor.

“We can’t afford making a shitty deal, San.” The Captain snapped, arms crossed in front of his chest, “Not after Yuri almost destroyed our ship and Jongho released our Siren.”

The tallest scratched his nape, pouting, “Well, it wasn’t entirely Jongho’s fault, Captain…we should probably thank the Siren he’s still alive, to be honest—”

“Whatever, Mingi,” The Captain snapped, shooting him a glare, “If we don’t get high payment on these girls I’m afraid we’ll have to return to our old ways of survival for a while.”

San, the one checking all girls, opened our cage as he snickered, “I don’t mind at all. It’s been too long since I had bloodied my sword.”

My body shivered and my cellmate started crying loudly as San touched her hair, moving it out of her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. I wished I could’ve punched the man and held the crying girl, but I was rooted to my place, just as frightened as her. I refused to show my true feelings, however, having no intention of showing weakness to these monsters. I tensed up once I saw a pair of glistening black shoes stop in front of me, the man’s presence powerful. I lowered my head even more, for once wishing I had longer hair so that it would cover my face, restrict the men from seeing it. San tsked as he harshly grabbed my chin and raised my head by it, our eyes finding each other. Perhaps in a different scenario I would’ve been easily charmed by the man standing in front of me, his beauty unmatched. His jet-black hair fell messily on his forehead, he had clearly run his fingers through it numerous times. His sharp, slit like eyes, their color a deep brown were intense, keeping you pinned to your place, and I found myself scared to even breathe as we stared each other down. His lips were plump and glistened from having licked them just seconds ago, the bridge of his nose tall, complimenting his manly face well. He was intimidating and I fought against my will of wanting to cover away from him, refusing to show him any fear despite the very obvious tears gathered up in my eyes. Suddenly, he chuckled and smirked, eyes running all over my face, then down my body before stopping on my hair again.

“I knew you’d bring us a lot of money when I spotted you last night,” My jaw clenched as his words made the Captain and the other man, called Mingi, look my way, “You’re drop dead gorgeous, angel, pity your hair isn’t longer, you would’ve made us even more money.”

My jaw clenched and I ripped my head out of his hold, looking off to the side, head turned away from him. I couldn’t believe such malice could hide behind such a beautiful face. I hated him as he chuckled, looking me over one more time before he walked out of our cage, locking the iron door behind him, smirking at the Captain.

“We’ll be filthy rich, Hongjoong.” San said with the evilest laughter I’ve ever heard and the other two men chuckled as the three of them took off, headed for the stairs. The silence was deafening as we waited for them to be gone, and I felt the tears finally streaming down my cheeks once they were out the door, locking it behind them. My knees gave out and I fell down, holding my head in my hands as I started sobbing loudly. I felt the pitiful gazes of the other girls and it made me cry even harder. I wished I was so ugly they would just feed me to the sharks, at least I could try and swim away then, have a chance at saving myself. I couldn’t lose my perfect life like this, I just couldn’t.

            We couldn’t tell whether it was day or night due to being locked down here, but when Mingi walked in with a few more lanterns and muttered that he’d bring us dinner soon, we realized it was probably around the evening. Everyone seemingly had calmed down a little bit since San examined us, the girls constantly giving me pitiful glances. I hated it, wanted to ask them to stop, but remained quiet. If they thought they were safe because San called just me beautiful, I wouldn’t want to destroy their small sense of security, because I knew how much it meant. I tried to distract myself multiple times, the rocking of the boat making me sleepy but I refused to sleep, scared that the pirates would do something to me. No matter how hard I tried to imagine that I was in a different place, finding a fitting scenario for my current reality, it never lasted for too long. The image became blurry until it disappeared altogether, making me sit on the floor with my back against the wall defeated, wondering where they were taking us. I was from the South Kingdom, living on the furthest island from the mainland. It would take around four to five days to travel between the two on a big ship, but I didn’t know how big and fast these pirates ship was, so I couldn’t judge how much it would take us to arrive. I assumed they were taking us to the Capital, but I wasn’t even sure why I was captured in the first place. Hyolin, who turned out to be the oldest amongst us girls, seemed to be the only one fully understanding the situation, but she refused to tell us. She asked us if we’ve heard about Ateez and Choi San, and remained silent after hearing our answers. I did know Ateez was a pirate crew, but I didn’t know who Choi San was…until today. I assumed he was some sort of trader, but his physique said otherwise. His muscular and well-defined body begged to differ, and the big sword secured around his hips also proved my theory to be true. He was probably something like a soldier, not a trader. I had no idea what ranks pirates had on their ships, but I imagined San to be at the front leading, fighting the enemy.

Not knowing what to do with myself anymore, I found myself quietly humming as three girls had fallen asleep, curled up on the cold floor into themselves, hugging their torsos. The young girl sharing the cage with me had calmed down hours ago, but she wouldn’t stop sniffing and rocking back and forth. She also wasn’t talking to us, so I figured I could try and distract her with a sailor song I knew. I found myself quietly singing, staring off into the distance, looking at nothing in particular as I lost myself in the story of the song. It was about a young woman who lived by the beach by herself and wished to meet her lover who got lost on the sea years ago. They would have been married already, but the mates of her lover said he got shoved into the sea by a big wave, forever lost to the water. The young woman never believed her lover was dead, her gut telling her that he’d return home to her and they’d live a happy life together. And she seemed to be right as one night someone knocked on her door, making her almost faint. It was her lover and he looked better than ever. She flung herself in his arms and they cried for hours, the man telling her everything that’s happened to him after he fell in the sea. Apparently, some mermaids saved him but kept him hostage, scared that he’d lead other sailors to their lair. After years of teaching them about humans and helping them whenever one of them was sick, they finally released the man, trusting him enough to keep the secret about their existence. The woman couldn’t care less about mermaids and finding them, her biggest treasure was sitting right in front of her, all she needed was him.

“Your voice is so beautiful.” The young girl spoke up for the first time willingly since we’ve been here, her voice high pitched and shaky. I looked at her surprised, and smiled at her softly.

“Thank you, dear.” I whispered, resting my chin on my knees, which were pulled up to my chest.

“Where did you learn to sing like that?” She asked, finally willing to converse with us. She had nothing to lose by doing so at this point.

“Nowhere,” I sighed, playing with the skirt of my dress, “My grandparents once took me to their good friends when I was little and they asked if I played any instrument. When I told them I didn’t they told me I could always try and sing, use my own voice as an instrument.”

The young girl listened closely, looking a little curious, “You’ve been singing for a long time, then. Are you famous?”

I chuckled and shook my head, “No, not even a little bit.”

A gloomy feeling seemed to loom over our heads as I sighed loudly, closing my eyes, “It was my dream…to become famous. To sing for the wealthy. To be invited to gatherings and the Royal family’s balls as a performer, but—now I’m a prisoner on a pirate ship. I’ll never become a well-known singer. All of my hard-work was in vain, I just—I wish I was rather dead, than on this ship.”

An amused deep chuckle made all the girls still awake tense. The young girl beside me hid her face again, turning into the wall, her whole body shaking again. I opened my eyes and looked up, startled to find San standing right outside my cage. When did he get here? And how did we not hear him or even notice him until now? His lips were pulled into a twisted smile, looking very amused as he unlocked the door. I watched as he took a step inside, placing a tray of food down on the floor, never breaking eye contact with me. The young girl started whimpering, irritating me to no end, but I didn’t show my feelings. I tried to remain neutral as San stared me down, challenging me with his gaze to look away, to succumb to him. But I would never do that, I refused to cover in front of a lowlife like him.

“You’re not just beautiful, you have a beautiful voice too.” He said sounding almost amazed, an excited glint in his eyes, “You’ll be worth more than I thought initially.”

His words made me gulp and my palms turn into fists, but I refrained myself from saying anything, refusing to feed his energy with mine by being weak. San smirked and slightly leaned down, tilting his head to the side as I glared at him, “And forget about dying, beautiful, because nothing harmful will happen to you as long as you’re under my watch.”

But he was the reason I was even placed in a harmful situation. It was his fault that once we’re on the mainland something horrible will happen to me, to the other women in these cages. It was his fault that I would never achieve my dreams, it being the very few reason I found living worth. I acted without thinking, without considering that the tray of food was both for myself and my cellmate, without considering how hungry she must’ve been, forgetting how hungry I was myself. I kicked the tray with my leg, food getting on the floor, glaring at San with full hatred as his eyes slightly widened, his smug expression slipping for a second. He was far away from me, but it felt like he was breathing down my neck as he stood up straight, wide shoulders pulled back, jaw clenching. His gaze made me shiver involuntarily and he was out of the cage, slamming the door shut before locking it. The young girl jumped and I remained staring at San until he was out of the room, Mingi being the one to bring the other women their dinners. I wanted nothing more but to escape this hell.

            One or two days have passed since we’ve been taken prisoners on the pirate ship, but I couldn’t really pin point how much time has passed since I was kidnapped. It was continuously dark down here, where they kept us, and if it weren’t for Mingi always announcing what type of meal he was bringing for us, I wouldn’t have even known what time of the day it was. The atmosphere was quite somber as everyone was scared for their own lives, covering away whenever San entered the room. He kept coming down, sometimes laughing at us and teasing us with vile words, words I tuned out once I realized how foul of a person he was. He did this for his own enjoyment, because he liked seeing us scared and helpless. If I wasn’t on a ship, behind bars, I would’ve stood up for myself, making sure he never disrespected a woman ever again. But I couldn’t do that here, not when my scared cellmate started crying as San told us to change our clothes in front of him. She was begging him to turn around, embarrassed and humiliated when he slapped her hard, shouting at her to shut up. My body was shaking from anger and I clenched my hands into fists, trying to keep my breathing even, not wanting him to see how easily he could get a reaction from me. He smirked the whole time, entertained by the whole ordeal as the girls sniffled and whimpered while changing, covering underneath his intense gaze.

I didn’t feel better than them, I felt violated as his gaze ran over my body hungrily once I was out of my second-hand dress, the silk nightgown I was wearing the only thing concealing my private parts from unwanted eyes. I felt humiliated when he muttered that my freckle covered body was exotic and men would kill each other to get their hands on me, but I didn’t let any emotion show on my face as I held eye contact with him, chin high, as I pulled on the simple white dress he brought for us, staring him down spitefully. San seemed to be enjoying it, eyebrows raising when I threw my dress in front of his feet, making him bend down and pick it up himself, unlike the other girls who handed him their own dresses themselves. I could play innocent and fragile, and I would do just that, but not when my privacy and decency were being violated. Not when I wasn’t treated like a human being, not when I wasn’t respected. San’s lips pulled up in a wide grin, dimples forming on his cheeks, but he didn’t seem happy as he eyed the dress in front of him, shaking his head as he sucked on his cheeks. He probably didn’t expect any type of disrespect or challenge from any of us, thinking we were too scared to stand up for ourselves. But what could happen to me other than dying, while I was on this ship? Nothing, nothing that could scare me into subordination. Despite thinking that San would throw a fit and make me grab my dress and hand it to him, he didn’t, he just leaned down and picked it up, feeling the fabric of it.

“For someone who regards themselves so highly, you look rather cheap, Y/N.” I chuckled, his words triggering me enough to finally show just how irritated I was, but I remained silent. His gaze pinned me to my spot, challenging me as he waited for a retort, but nothing happened. I didn’t speak, didn’t move. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. It was so quiet in the chamber, that I thought the other girls stopped breathing. A ruckus upstairs seemed to get San’s attention, and finally someone called out to him, telling him to go help them. Our stare down finally came to an end and San walked away with a smirk, dangling the keys to our cages in his hands mockingly. If I could, I would’ve punched him unconscious right then and there, but the chains and iron bars were in my way, so I had to settle with the power of my imagination, where San wasn’t even breathing anymore.

Dinner time had approached once again, and us, the girls, had somewhat calmed down from the whole fiasco from earlier. It took a lot of coercing and encouragement from us for my cellmate to finally stop crying and I sung her whatever songs she wanted to hear, finally lightening her mood. Somehow I got her to smile as Hyolin and I told her funny happenings from our jobs, Hyolin being a baker. The young girl, who’s name we finally found out, was Eunchae. She was barely seventeen and it broke my heart that she was here with us, her whole youth stolen from her. It’s not like I was much older than her, but at least I got to live my life a little bit up until now. She told us her mother had only her and relied on her, so Eunchae was scared what would happen to her mother now that she’s disappeared from her life. We tried reassuring her that her mother would probably figure something out, but it only made Eunchae cry again. I felt bad, so bad for her. And promised myself, that if I could somehow save myself from this nightmare, I’d take her with me. Hyolin was a strong woman, I knew I didn’t have to worry much for her and the other women with us seemed to like her more than Eunchae or I, which was probably good. If Hyolin tried to break free as well, they’d follow her no doubt.

When the heavy door opened, everyone tensed and we watched as Mingi and San walked down with trays of food, each one of them handing them out to two cages. Of course, it came as no surprise, as San chose Eunchae and I’s cage, his eyes amused as I avoided his stare, preoccupied with my nails which had gotten a bit dirty. I didn’t want to see him after what he did earlier, anger cursing through my veins just at the memory of it. But I had to be smart. I was smart despite what everyone thought about me. I survived this long after my grandparents deaths thanks to it. I could be soft and persuasive, fragile looking, in the eyes of men. I knew I played my cards a little bit wrong until now in front of San, but damage control was still doable. I could still act dainty, and blame my previous behavior on the stress I was feeling, if he asked. Once he placed the tray of food on the floor for us, he didn’t leave the cage, just looked around, before leaning against the bars with a smug look, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Today he was wearing a casual fit, a white shirt which was barely buttoned, tucked inside his leather pants. He had two swords on each side of his hips and a long, dark blue, coat kept him warm from the harsh wind up on the deck. My body ached for some sunlight and a breeze, but I knew it wasn’t possible until I was on this ship.

“Well, I come bearing good news,” My heart shouldn’t have skipped a beat at his words, knowing not to hope for anything good since it was coming from this lowlife pirate, “we’re docking down tomorrow on the mainland, isn’t that exciting?”

Nobody answered his question, my body tense as my eyebrows furrowed. What would that mean? What would happen to us?

“Isn’t that exciting?” He repeated himself, his voice hard and it made Eunchae whimper as she quickly nodded her head, afraid he’d slap her again. My blood boiled, but I ignored it, having to play coy for once again.

“One small advice,” San dragged his words out, eyes falling on me, burning a hole in the side of my head, “When you’ll be no longer with me, behave, and your lives will be easier. Men don’t like stubborn and rude women, they like them weak and respectful, especially the men I do business with.”

I wanted to tell him to go jump off the ship, become the sharks dinner, but I bit my lower lip and gulped, still refusing to look at him, knowing very well he was directing his words mainly at me. But I still didn’t fully understand why I was here, and I wanted to know. Hyolin seemed to have accepted her fate long ago, but didn’t care to share it with us, seeing that we were quite literally in the same boat.

“What—” I stuttered, hoping it would look authentic as my voice was small, “What will happen to us once—once we’ll get to the mainland?”

I stared at the floor, playing my role, hopefully, well, “A couple of things, beautiful, but the most important one is that you’ll bring me tons of money.”

I gulped, “How?”

San chuckled as if my question was the funniest ever, crouching down, lowering his head as he was trying to make eye contact with me, but I didn’t look his way, “How, you ask? By selling your body for me.”

My blood ran cold when I heard his words, and my heart started beating like crazy, ears suddenly turning red. My hands started shaking and I clenched them into fists, hoping he wouldn’t notice as San stared at me with a crazed look in his eyes. No, this couldn’t be happening. I was pure, I was untouched, I couldn’t let men just…ruin my life like that. I had full autonomy over my body, nobody could take that away from me. Not San. Not anyone else. I let out a quiet breath, trying to think of a way of saving myself, of charming San into letting me off. I would be betraying the other women here with me, but I had to try. And if I succeeded, perhaps I could help them too later on.

“You—you said I have a beautiful voice—” I wasn’t faking my stutter anymore, my thoughts were so jumbled together that I didn’t know what I wanted to say first, “I can sing for you, entertain your men for you. My body—my body is not worth more than my voice, I—I can make you richer with my talent, I—”

“Angel,” San cut me off, slightly coming closer, voice almost softening, “If I wanted to make you a famous singer, you wouldn’t be here right now. And your voice isn’t worth more than your body.”

I gulped, feeling dread settling in my stomach. This really was the worst that could have ever happened to me. I shook my head slowly, feeling the tears in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. I couldn’t humiliate myself even more, not in front of this monster. San seemed to have lost interest in me as he stood up straight, smoothing out his coat, looking down at me with an amused expression.

“Did you think I kidnapped you to make you a princess, Y/N? This is the real world, not some sort of fantasy land. We all have to make money in some way—”

“But you’re selling women, to make money.” My voice was harsh as I snapped, raising my head, finally looking at him. I knew my face was red from anger, my cheeks burning as I pushed myself up, standing tall, yet shorter than San, “You’re using humans to make money, to live a lavished life, while you make others miserable. While you steal our lives away, you get to live a free life—”

“Not everything is fair in life, angel.” San said with a nonchalant shrug, seemingly amused by my outburst, only fueling my anger.

“Something not being fair in life means getting fired from your job, it means losing a loved one, it means working-hard yet never quite achieving your dreams not—not getting kidnapped off the streets by someone who’s playing God!” I couldn’t help it as I screamed at him by the end of my sentence, breathing hard and wishing my glare could kill him. San didn’t seem so amused anymore, his eyes narrowing at me, “A lowlife like you shouldn’t even look in our direction, San."

San tsked, letting out a loud laugh, startling the other women as they watched me with fearful eyes, Eunchae shaking her head, begging me to stop with her eyes, “Is that how you see me? What you think of me? A lowlife?”

“Have you never been insulted by a woman before?” I raised my eyebrows mockingly, watching San stalk towards me slowly, “Did you think just because you view us as some objects we wouldn’t have a brain to think with and to feel with? Can you even sell me off if I will not behave like a doll?”

“Yes,” San nodded, chuckling, stopping right in front of me, eyes piercing mine, “I can still sell you, because there’s some men who love it when their objects have a big mouth and more than two thoughts in their skulls, makes it more exciting, you know? More satisfying to see them succumb to them. More enticing when they fight back, only to be disciplined in mere minutes—”

It took me a great deal of self-control to not step back as San invaded my personal space, stopping just inches away from me as his voice dropped to a low whisper, “It makes it so fucking hot when you finally get to fuck them dumb into the mattress, making them a mess of cries and pleas, asking you to stop but they are never in charge, even if you let them think so for a moment.”

My lips parted in shock and I couldn’t help but gasp at his vulgar words, taking a step back, but San reacted fast as his hand was in my hair, yanking my head back, making me yelp. I had no time to react as something sharp and cold was pressed against my neck, making me freeze as I was afraid to even breathe, “I know the type of woman you are, angel. You act fragile and sweet as long as things are going your way, but once you realize you’re at disadvantage your true self starts showing. You can’t manipulate me and you can’t make me feel bad for you, because I don’t give a shit about you, angel. All I see is a bunch of coins in return for you body when I look at you, and that’s all I need. What happens to you after you’re free from my hands, I don’t give two shits about. You can go jump off a cliff or you can live the miserable life you were going to live either way in that small, foul and good for nothing city, Y/N. I made it worse, perhaps, or I made it better. I’ll never find out.”

“You have no idea what life I was living,” I breathed out, voice shaky as the knife pressed against my Adam’s apple, “But I can promise you that I will ruin you.”

San’s gaze melted into mine, his face lowering, our noses almost touching. My heartbeat faltered for a second and I shrunk back a little bit, his dominating aura finally getting to me. I hated him, so much, and I hoped he could see it in my eyes, in my expression. He should just kill me right now, making his own life easier. I always kept my promises, and this was my promise to him. I would make sure he’d be ruined once I was sold off. Suddenly, San started laughing loudly and he pushed me away, making me fall into the iron bars as I was thrown off balance, making the others stare at the ground as his wild eyes looked around, challenging the other women to say anything. Nobody seemed to be able to do so and he left us alone, not even bothering to lock my cell door, showing just how much power he held over us. How little good my outburst did.

            Our night was sleepless after my little fiasco and the other women were beyond frightened, whispering amongst each other, sometimes throwing glares my way. I couldn’t care less, I didn’t do anything wrong, I did no harm to them, I just ruined my chances of ever getting out of here unscratched. It was hilarious how my plan backfired on me, but it only showed how unlucky I have been lately. Nothing was going my way and nothing would ever go my way from now on. When the heavy door finally opened again, everyone knew it was the morning. Everyone knew we got to the mainland. Everyone knew our doom was closer than ever. It was Mingi again, with San walking after him. Mingi was holding a bunch of clothes, their color an ugly orange, and he opened all the cages, handing us the dresses as we stood ready. He was respectful enough to walk away once we had the dresses in our hands, knowing that we’d have to change now. San, just like last time, remained, watching us with a very pleased expression on his face.

“Well, ladies,” He said in a cheery voice, walking down between the cages, “We have finally arrived, I hope you enjoyed sailing with Ateez.”

I sneered at his words, but undressed myself, staring at the dress in my hands with disgust. It was heavy in my hands, and thick, the design tasteless the longer I looked at it. I couldn’t believe I was forced to dress into something so atrocious, but I just swallowed and pulled it on, instantly regretting it. It stuck to my skin and warmed me up, making my skin itchier. I haven’t washed up in days and it was only making me feel dirtier than I already was. San just smiled at me, not sincere nor happy, just mocking as his eyes ran over my body.

“What a fall from grace, angel, I suppose a dress like that wasn’t on your wish list, was it?” I scoffed and look at him as I have finished tying the front of the dress together.

“Orange is not my color, so thank you, for making me look uglier.” I bowed my head mockingly at him, his lean frame leaning against the doorway of the cage.

“I don’t mean to sadden you, but the men won’t be looking at your dress at all, angel, just at your pretty face.” Something wasn’t right about the dress though, it was sitting weirdly against my collarbones, I could feel it. I pulled on the sleeves of it, but it didn’t do much to fix the feeling, and San rolled his eyes before he walked up to me. I stepped back slightly, trying to maintain a normal distance between our bodies, but he just kept walking towards me until my back hit the wall, leaving no space for me to escape. My heart started thumping fast and I couldn’t help the sudden heat on my cheeks, so I just looked away, trying to conceal my face from him. He chuckled, but paid no mind as he raised his hand, about to touch the collar of my dress, right above my breast, but I slapped his hand away, whipping my head around to face him. San raised an eyebrow but tried to touch me again, and I just slapped his hand away again, but before I could lower my hand, he caught my wrist in his hand, holding me firmly.

“Don’t you think if I wanted to do anything to you I would’ve done it already?” He asked quietly, both eyebrows raised as he studied my face. I gulped but didn’t look away, just ripped my wrist out of his hand. He huffed and touched the collar of my dress again, not gentle at all, as he yanked on the fabric, making me gasp. Suddenly, a white collar, which I haven’t noticed was there before, came up from underneath my dress, going from my breasts up to my shoulders. I tensed when San’s finger lightly grazed against my skin, too close to my breast, but when I looked at him, he was already looking at me. I hissed and held his wrist the same way he held mine.

“You fixed the dress already,” I snapped, “No need to keep touching me.”

“I was just checking to make sure I did it right.” San answered smugly and I released his wrist, pushing him slightly back, hoping he’d get the message to disappear and leave me alone. He chuckled and batted his eye lashes at me mockingly before he turned around to walk away. I glared at the back of his head, wishing he would just disappear, never to be seen or heard of. I figured he wouldn’t be easy to take down in a fight due to his physique and sheer force he always seemed to use, but what if his attacker had the element of surprise? What if he didn’t see nor hear his attacker? What if he never even thought that person would attack him?

Without a second thought, my body flung into motion, acting on its own. I strained the chains of the handcuffs connected together and charged towards San as he was still close enough to attack from behind. I got on my tip toes and threw the chain around his neck, pulling it harshly towards me. The other girls exclaimed loudly as San gasped, his hands holding onto the chain barely, trying to pull it away from his throat, but I used all my force and power to choke him. Eunchae started crying loudly as San tried gasping for air, his body falling into mine almost as I applied even more force, panting as San was fighting back. My arms were straining and my wrists started aching from the handcuffs, but I didn’t stop pulling on the chain, determined to get the others and myself out of here before it was too late. But my initial thoughts about San turned out to be true, he was a lot stronger than he looked like, and with one harsh tug, I face planted into his wide and firm back, knowing that I messed up really bad now. The other girls suddenly went quiet and all was heard was San’s ragged breathing, his back moving up and down quickly. I shuddered and prepared myself for the repercussion of my actions, which came straight away. San turned around and his dark eyes fell on mine as he grabbed me by the hair harshly, a new glint in his eyes as he watched me enraged. My cuffed hands were behind his back now and I tried to break free, raise the chain over his head and push him away, but San didn’t allow me to do so. His flexed palm came flying towards my face and I tried to cover away, but to my surprise, he hit my Adam’s apple with such force that all air left my lungs instantly, making me fall forward, into him. Despite trying to breathe, my throat closed up and I could do nothing as I started choking in San’s arms, his hand still holding my hair harshly, looking down at me. As dark spots appeared in my vision I could swear San’s eyes softened just a bit, a sinister smirk appearing on his lips. And then everything went black.

            After getting knocked unconscious I woke up to being carried by San, the hot sun beaming down on my face. I gasped as I looked around, noticing that we were off the ship, even far away from the shore. Eunchae seemed to be walked by Mingi meanwhile another woman by a man I didn’t know, leading the group. I wasn’t chained up anymore and as I looked around, assessing the situation, San gave me one warning glare and muttered that if I tried running away or creating a scene he’d slit my throat before I could scream. That scared me enough to behave as we were led towards a run-down looking house, somewhere in the town. San placed me down minutes ago and I was able to walk on my own, his firm grip around my forearm keeping me close to his body. I took in our surroundings, trying to find a way of escape once San wasn’t by my side anymore, but we were quickly shoved inside the house, walked to a backroom, loud manly voices coming through the only other door in the room. My heart was in my throat, and I found myself sweating profoundly as San finally released me, giving me a glance before he disappeared through the door. I tried to take a peak while the door was open, and my heart sank when I saw tons of men in the other room. Was this really how our life would be from now on? Sold again and again, corrupted and used? I bit my lower lip and looked around the room, trying to find an exit, but there were no windows and the only door leading outside was blocked by Mingi, who seemed very focused in guarding the door. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked straight ahead, his hands clasped together in front of his body. He probably felt my gaze on him as he spared a glance my way, but when the other door opened, he quickly looked away. San stepped inside and dragged Hyolin away, slamming the door shut behind him. Eunchae started whimpering again as the other women gathered together, holding each other tightly. I found myself looking between the door and Mingi, begging with my eyes for him to let us go, but he wouldn’t look at me again. As Eunchae started crying, I found myself hugging her tightly, patting her head, telling her that everything would be alright. But nothing would be. She’ll be tainted, and I’ll be tainted too for life. I thought the Heavens wouldn’t do such thing to a human, but I realized my prayers were futile right now. No divine God would save me anymore. The door opened again and San took away another woman. Then another. And another. Two more went and when the door opened again, his eyes fell on Eunchae and I. I knew he’d come our way, so I pushed Eunchae behind myself and stood tall and fearless, staring him down. A smirk appeared on his lips as he stopped a few steps away from me, going to grab my cheek. I flinched and closed my eyes, but suddenly Eunchae’s wail snapped me back to reality, my eyes widening as San started pulling her after him.

“No—no—San—” But his glare instantly silenced me as he reached the door, eyes ablaze. Eunchae tried to wipe her tears away out of fear and tried to look somewhat composed, but one warning look from San made them fall again. I went to run up to them, but the other woman remaining in the room with me grabbed my wrist as San and Eunchae disappeared through the door, the young girl never to be seen again. My heart clenched and I wanted to cry out. I wanted to trash the room we were in. I wanted to rip the dress of myself and I wanted someone to punch me until my face was all bruised up, never to be called beautiful again. I hated everything about this. The tug on my wrist was harsh and I sniffed as I came face to face with the other woman, whose name was Dahyun.

“Pull it together,” She snapped, her own eyes teary, “You were the bravest out of all of us, if anyone can escape this, it’s you.”

I sniffed, a few tears falling from my eyes, “But he took Eunchae, I can’t run off like that—all of you will suffer, I can’t—”

“Stop thinking about us.” Dahyun’s voice raised but she glanced at Mingi and continued in a whisper, “We’re a lost cause, we don’t matter anymore. Save yourself while you can, Y/N, San seems to have taken a slight liking to you, use that to your advantage. You can charm anyone you want to.”

Her words gave me a little courage and I wiped my tears away, muttering a quiet ‘alright’ as the door opened and San looked inside. How did Eunchae get sold so fast? All of the other girls took around five to ten minutes, it’s been barely three. My heart clenched as I tried looking through the open door, the younger girl nowhere in sight. Dahyun seemed to have understood San as she sighed and released me, placing on a poker face as she walked towards him, brushing his hand off her forearm as she walked through the door by herself. San’s eyes met mine and his face was unreadable as he closed the door. I was next. I was the last one. After this, San would walk back to the pirate ship rich and I would walk away with a destroyed life. I had to stop this. I couldn’t just stand here and wait for my awful fate to happen.

“Do you enjoy this?” I found myself turning around, glaring at Mingi, “Watching women get sold off to some disgusting pigs?!”

Mingi didn’t react as he stared at the wall blankly, “Does it bring satisfaction to you seeing us in pain and despair? Are we really just some objects in your eyes?”

I was trying to make him feel any sort of emotion, but Mingi just sighed and slightly glanced at me.

“Please, I don’t deserve this—”

“I know, but it’s none of my business what happens here.” Mingi finally has had enough, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me with pity, “Everyone on the ship makes money in their own ways and I won’t sabotage San’s way of working.”

I gulped, trying to convince him somehow to let me go, “This is not about San, Mingi. This is about you. Your morals and what you believe in. Your dignity and respect for others—for women.”

“Shut up, please,” The tall man looked at me defeated, his hands clenched into fists, “once San decides to do something, nobody can stop him. If you think me stepping aside and letting you run away will help, will save you, trust me…it won’t. You could hide anywhere in the four seas and four kingdoms, and San would still find you. And once he does, he won’t be nice to you, he won’t try and sell you off again, Y/N. He’ll torture you until you’re barely breathing and then he’ll kill you in the slowest way possible, making you regret that you dared run away. He’s scarier than you think and he’s certainly more dangerous than you could ever imagine.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the door opened behind me again. Mingi tensed and quickly averted his eyes back onto the wall, San raising an eyebrow at him as he walked up to me, grabbing my forearm and whirling me around. My jaw clenched and I looked to the side, ignoring San’s burning gaze on my face. I knew he wanted me to look at him, but I wouldn’t. I had enough of his disgusting face. Not wasting any more seconds, he started walking, dragging me after him as my legs refused to move on their own. I really didn’t want to go through the door and when San’s hand gripped the knob, I panicked.

“Please,” I gasped out, hands flying up and holding his cheeks, San’s eyes going wide, “Please, don’t do this to me. I can make you rich in other ways. I can—I can work for you for the rest of my life, please, don’t sell me off. I’ve—I’ve never been touched—by a man before—”

It felt humiliating admitting this to him, but this was my last chance, I had to do my best. San’s dark colored eyes stared deeply into mine, seemingly lost in them as I cupped his cheeks firmly, standing on my tip toes to try and make this more intimate. All I could do was whisper, too scared that my voice would shake if I spoke any louder, “I can sing, I have a beautiful voice. I’m sure you have connections, if you place me amongst wealthy people I can perform for them and all the money will go to you. All you have to do is give me pretty dresses and I’ll handle the rest myself, please, San.”

I really thought my words got through to him as he relaxed in my hold, one hand gently holding my hand against his cheek. He sucked in a deep breath and then his eyes hardened, making me shake my head in a plea. San slowly peeled my hands off his cheeks, tugging me closer as our noses were just inches away from each other.

“Behave.” Was all he said before the door was opened and I was walked outside, the breath knocked from my lungs as I took in the sight before me. At least fifteen men were in the room, sitting helter-skelter and watching me with curious eyes, which slowly turned lustful. I felt my body shake as San still held onto me harshly, making sure I wouldn’t run away. My legs felt numb, even if I tried to, I wouldn’t have been able to move. All of my nightmares sat right in front of me and I bit my lower as San cleared his throat.

“Im Y/N.” His voice held authority as he looked down on everyone, eyes slits, “Quite the beauty, as you can see. She’s a little bit temperamental, but she’s got a rather calm and sweet nature. And I can assure you her voice is just as beautiful as her face and body.”

My jaw clenched and I side glanced San, feeling his grip tighten around me in warning. Everyone was quiet as they watched me and when San nudged me, I understood. He wanted me to sing. But I didn’t want to sing. I felt like a bird held in a cage, only used when needed, never to be free again. Like an imprisoned nightingale. I gulped once and closed my eyes, sighing loudly. If he wanted me to sing, I would sing. The first few octaves were quiet and frail as my voice wavered, but I quickly corrected my pitch and started singing the song about a poor girl taken hostage in a fire exchange between bandits and the constables, only to die an unfortunate death when her kidnapper accidentally killed her after promising to release her once the constables stopped chasing them. The song was short and sad, it usually made people cry, even I felt like crying right now, understanding the poor girl from the song very well. Claps erupted throughout the room, but I didn’t open my eyes, I didn’t want to see who would be my buyer. San had to say nothing as the men started shouting ridiculous sums of money, each one of them trying to be the highest bidding. The room went silent when a deep voice shouted that they were offering five gold bars and a sack full of coins. I heard San gasping quietly beside me and my eyes flew open, falling on a man in his mid-thirties, a black mustache on his face. His eyes were kind and his face friendly as he smiled at me, dressed better than anyone else in the room. Why did he want me? To make me his own captive bird? Despite being the most well dressed in the room, and the kindest and purest looking, there was something in his eyes which sent chills down my body and I knew that my life wouldn’t be long next to that man.

“Sold to the man with the white hat!” San suddenly exclaimed, beaming at the man and bowing his head as he started dragging me back to the room I was held in until now. I looked at him confused, but when he opened the door, Mingi already had a white dress in his hands, waiting for me. San said nothing as he pushed me inside and then slammed the door shut behind me, leaving me with Mingi. My heart was beating like crazy when Mingi walked up to me, carefully extending his arms for me to take the dress, but my legs gave out and I fell forward. Mingi went stiff as I held onto him, suddenly crying into his chest, too short to reach any higher. It took him a few seconds before he reacted, but he started patting my back awkwardly, trying to calm me down. I was bawling by now and I realized how vulnerable Mingi was being right now, perhaps the Heaven’s offered me one last chance. A chance I instantly took. I gripped his arms firmly and kneeled him in the crotch abruptly, making him cry out. I pushed him away and raced towards the door, finding it unlocked. I flung it open and cried out in happiness, not looking back as I took off sprinting, trying to find the center of the town we were in, needing to find the constable this instant. My dress was too long and too thick, but I didn’t care as I raised them above my knees and ran around like a mad woman, getting strange looks from the people walking down the streets, my cheeks still wet from my tears. I was panting by the time I made it to the busier part of the town and I allowed myself to stop for a minute to try and catch my breath. People walked around, all busy with their own things, merchants shouting whatever they had to offer at their stalls. The sun beamed down on me and I couldn’t have felt even more blessed as I allowed myself to chuckle in pure happiness. I was free.

I looked around again, and to utmost luck, my eyes fell on a man wearing a uniform, signaling he was from the night watch. It didn’t matter what his function was as long as he was a figure of authority, someone whom I could ask for help from. The officer was looking around too, watching the people, and when his eyes stopped on me, he slightly smiled. My heart somersaulted and I took off towards him, mouth already forming to cry out for him to help me, when an all too familiar hand around my waist gripped me and turned me around. I bumped into the body, starting to struggle against him, when suddenly a sharp knife was pressed against my liver. It cut through the dress I was wearing and my breath stuttered as I looked up in San’s angry eyes. He found me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip myself away from him. I wanted to punch and kick him until he wasn’t breathing anymore.

“If you scream, angel, I swear on the Heavens I will kill you right here.” I whimpered when I felt the knife pressing against my skin harder, gripping San’s biceps as if that would’ve stopped him from doing anything to me. San’s eyes darted to the side and I followed his sight, a lump forming in my throat as the officer was walking towards us, eyebrows furrowed. San looked back down at me, eyebrows slightly furrowing before he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. I started protesting, gripping his biceps even harder, hoping he’d release me from the pain, but he just pressed his lips harder against mine. I glanced at the officer with desperation written all over my face and San swiftly pulled back just enough to stare in my eyes threateningly, his lips touching mine as he hissed at me.

“If you don’t make it look like we’re a couple, I will torture you until you beg me to kill you.” I really, really wanted to cry, but as San’s lips pressed against mine again, I kissed him back. I made no effort to follow his lead or put any power in the kiss, just smacked my lips against his a few times, hoping it would be enough as I started feeling light headed from the heath and the terror San put me through. His lips were finally away from mine.

“You shouldn’t run away every time we have an argument, angel.” San spoke loudly enough for the officer to hear us as he was close enough, the knife from San’s hand magically having disappeared, “I’m always worried sick about you.”

I just stared into San’s eyes blankly, seeing the officer from the corner of my eyes walk off with a smile, shaking his head. No. I was back in the arms of my kidnapper. Why did I try so hard if it was in vain in the end? San let out a long breath, his forehead wrinkling as he scrunched up his nose, sweat glistening on his temples. He hung his head low, sucking his cheeks in as he held onto my waist with his other hand too, flushing me against his body.

“If I wouldn’t have sold you off already, I would really kill you right now, Y/N.” My jaw clenched at his words and I slightly pushed his biceps, making him look at me.

“I told you I could get you more money if you just allowed me to sing to the wealthy, San.” I tried to coerce him into finally giving in to me, “You get this large sum just once, it will go away eventually. But if you keep me around—if you let me sing—I can bring you weekly the same amount.” I was reaching, but it was worth the try. San didn’t seem to believe me either, and I could feel the resilience radiating off him, so I tried my last method. The method I hated the most, but if it would soften him enough to give in, I had to do it. I cupped his cheeks again and watched his eyes slightly widen as I closed mine, pressing my lips against his. San went stiff as our warm lips molded together, and despite me trying to move mine, his didn’t move. He wasn’t reciprocating it. He refused to fall for my last trick. And it truly was my last trick as I started pulling back defeated, eyes filling with tears, when San cupped my cheeks harshly and crashed his lips against mine. He wasn’t gentle at all, not that I expected him to be, as his lips moved hungrily against mine, devouring me. It was hard to keep up with him as I have never kissed anyone before, but I found my heart thumping loudly in my eardrums as our teeth clashed together, San dominating the kiss. His grip was crushing my cheeks and my lungs were screaming for air as my hands had fallen to his hips, gripping him, reminding myself that I couldn’t fall for his trick. My body was reacting weirdly to his actions, yearning for his lips as he pulled back, taking my lower lip in between his teeth, sucking on it. I felt my cheeks heat up at the action and I was embarrassed, slightly disgusted for making out with him, but fired up. San panted against my lips and he chuckled smugly as I refused to open my eyes, ashamed.

“This took an interesting turn of events, angel, don’t you think?” I didn’t answer him, afraid of what my voice would sound like, but when he nudged my nose with his, I wordlessly nodded, “What did you say? That you can bring me more money weekly than what that crazy rich man just offered me?”

My eyes flew open and the glint of mischief in San’s eyes brought a sense of hope into my system, truly so emotionally tired, that I believed he was genuine this time, “Yes, I can.”

San’s chuckle was high pitched and a crazy look appeared on his face as he bumped his nose against mine again, pushing my head back as he released my cheeks, “Very well, angel, very well.”

I didn’t fully understand what was happening, but I released his hips too as San’s arm went around my shoulders, pulling me into his side as he started walking, “Don’t think you’ll ever be free again, Y/N, because from today on…you’re mine.”

From getting sold off to getting owned by a pirate, neither sounded good nor like a pleasant life. I really didn’t want to cry anymore, but I still wasn’t free. No, I was just owned for life by a deranged and dangerous pirate, who would find me no matter where I went.

I was afraid not even my fantasy worlds were able to save me from the nightmare I found myself tangled up in.

Next part (divider)

[runnning-outof-time]

Cia!! Thanks so much for sending this my way! I always appreciate your lovely GIFts 😉😉 I’m sorry this one took a bit…I struggled with figuring out a plot for it. This could be read with the couple from my series Birmimgham, but there’s nothing specific that locks it down to them…so it’s a regular Tommy x Reader as well! (I just wanted to write a little something more with those two) I hope you enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Not How I Wanted It To Go

Tommy Shelby

Warnings: language

Tommy’s initial plan of calling the men into the kitchen gets thwarted when the someone, who’s not supposed to be present, walks in.

“Right, boys, you’re all here,” Tommy started as he took one last drag from his cigarette before removing it from between his lips and stamping it out in one of the bowls on the kitchen counter.

“Shoulda had a fuckin’ map done up,” Arthur commented on the vastness of the house that his younger brother now owned as he and the other men filed into the space.

“Party’s still goin’ on out there, Tom…why’ve you got us in here?” Johnny Dogs questioned while eyeing up one of the trays that the cook staff was busy preparing.

“I wanted to let you all know before I go and do it…” Tommy trailed off, taking a deep breath as he rested his hands on his hips, “I’m going to propose to (Y/N),” he announced his plan, making the room burst into cheers and hollers.

“Fucking finally!” John exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

“It took ya long enough!” Arthur added, getting in on the teasing, walking over to clap Tommy on the back.

“Is this why we’re all packed into this crowded house?” Uncle Charlie asked, his brows raising.

“Fuck you callin’ crowded, Charlie? This place is bigger than all of our houses on the lane combined and then rebuilt two times over,” John jumped in before Tommy could respond, refuting the older man’s statement, “and let’s not get started on the fuckin’ stables…can fit half of the King’s horses in…”

“Oi, John!” Tommy cut his brother off, sending a warning glare in his direction, “enough,” was all he had to say before John fell back into line. Tommy huffed at the tangent they’d just been taken on before responding to the original question, “it’s one of the reasons, yeah.”

He and (Y/N) were hosting a party at their new estate; a housewarming celebration. (Y/N) had wanted to have it so that she could finally invite all of their friends and family over. Tommy thought that it was a good place to finally propose to her.

“So you’re gonna do it then, Tommy?” Jeremiah was the one to bring the group back to the original topic of discussion.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded his head in a definitive manner.

“When, brother?” Arthur wanted to know the details.

“Today,” Tommy’s voice still held confidence. Surprised expressions formed on the faces of the men in the room. Tommy looked around once before he continued talking, “I’m going to do it today and I pulled you all in here to let you know where you fit into it…” he paused, looking around the room once again, “it’s going to happen later, which means you fuckers can’t do anything that will embarrass her or make her upset…”

“This is (Y/N) we’re talkin’ ‘bout here, Tom,” John interjected with a grin on his face.

His words made Tommy zero in on him, “anything,” he repeated, his eyebrows raised to show the seriousness in the situation, unhappy that John was still joking. He looked around the room to see the men watching him intently. He ran a hand over his face before continuing, “no taking bets, no stealing stuff, no sizing up her extended family…”

“What if they come at us?” Isiah cut into Tommy’s speech this time, looking to the right then so that he could send Michael a grin. Those two had gotten into enough fights together.

“What?” Tommy spun to look at him, his brows now furrowed in confusion. He was slowly but surely slipping to the end of his rope with the questions and interruptions.

“What if they start the fight?” Isiah asked his question with slightly different wording.

“You step away. We’re not fighting tonight…do you understand me? No fighting…” he paused as he moved over to the line of men, moving down and pointing at each one of them as he repeated his statement, “no fighting, no fighting, no fighting…” he paused again, moving to the middle so that he could look at the entire group again, “no. Fucking. Fighting!” he barked his order, the frustration slipping through in his words. Isiah’s question had been the one to set it off. Silence fell in the room after his outburst, and he took a few deep, steadying breaths as he looked at the men again, “are there any other questions?” he dared to them to continue, knowing that the next person who tried to would most likely get their head chewed off.

“Let us see the ring then, Tom,” Arthur’s words came out as a statement rather than a question, and it served to cut the tension.

Tommy huffed out a sigh then, rooting in his trousers’ pockets to retrieve the box as the men all began chattering again; this time about catching a glimpse of the ring he was going to give (Y/N). He opened the box as soon as he pulled it out, showing the men that had gathered around him.

“She’s gonna love it, brother,” Arthur commented, patting him on the back as he smiled proudly, “the last of the Shelby men to get married…besides Finn over there,” he said then, nodding his head at their youngest sibling.

“Though Finn might have married (Y/N) if you didn’t get around to it,” John added with a grin, his words making the boy they were talking about blush profusely.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Finn had a bit of a crush on (Y/N)…he’d been starstruck by her from the time that she helped him with his maths those few years ago.

“So you’re doing it tonight then?”

“Yeah, later. I wanted to have it so that she’s not overwhelmed by everyone after it happens,” Tommy explained more of his plan, smiling as he looked down at the ring.

A voice came from the entrance to the kitchen before anything else could be said. “What’s going on in here, Tommy?”

Tommy looked up from the ring upon hearing it and his throat went dry as his eyes fell onto (Y/N). Shit. “Uh…what’re you doing here, love?” he asked, feeling his heart rate increase. The ring was still out in full view…there was no way she didn’t see it!

“I came looking for you. Some of my family were getting ready to leave and wanted to thank you for the invite…what are you all doing?” she asked, trying to look anywhere but at the box in his hands.

“Might as well do it now, brother,” Arthur mumbled behind Tommy as a tense silence hung in the air.

Tommy glanced to his side, seeing his brother nodding towards (Y/N). He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he decided to go forward with it. He took a few steps toward (Y/N) then, the jewelry box still clutched in his hands. “This is not how I wanted this to go, (Y/N)…” he started off, keeping his eyes locked onto her as her lips parted slightly in surprise, “I wanted to do it in a way that would make things more special; a way you deserved. I’ve never in my life loved someone as much as I love you, and there is no one I’d rather spend the rest of my days with…”

“Yes, Tommy,” (Y/N) breathed, beating him to the punch and making his brows furrow in response.

“I’ve not even gotten down on one knee, love,” he pointed out.

“I don’t need that. My answer’s yes,” she shook her head, a wide smile present on her face.

“(Y/N)…”

“Fuck the particulars, just put the ring on her finger!” John yelled from where the men were still gathered, his words cutting off Tommy’s hesitancy.

Tommy turned and shot a glare at his younger brother, who was wearing a shit-eating grin, before looking at (Y/N) once more. “Will you marry me, (Y/N)?” he asked her even though she’d already given her answer.

“Yes!” she nodded her head, reaching out to wrap her hand around the back of his neck so that she could pull him into a passionate kiss. Tommy took hold of her waist with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring, steadying himself as he kissed her back with equal passion.

A chorus of cheers broke out behind them as they broke away. Tommy took the ring from its holder and slid it onto her left hand, looking up at her with a big smile once it was sitting comfortably at the base. (Y/N) smiled back at him, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as the men moved in to begin congratulating them.

It may not have been the original, extravagent proposal that Tommy had been planning, but it was the perfect proposal for them.

———

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

‘Our Flag Means Death’ Star Rhys Darby on Stede’s Transformations & Hopes for Season 3

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death Season 2 Episode 8 “Mermen.”]

Our Flag Means Death saw Gentleman pirate Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) transform from a fish-out-of-water swashbuckler into the romantic hero he was always destined to be in the latest season of Max‘s original comedy.

After realizing the error of his ways at the end of Season 1, Stede sought redemption in the eyes of the infamous Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), after recognizing he was in love with the pirate. While the path wasn’t a direct one, they eventually found their way back to one another with the help of a fantastical mermaid sequence, some much-needed apologies, and ultimately a better string of communication.

Reflecting on his journey, star Rhys Darby is opening up about Stede’s various transformations in Season 2, including the excitement surrounding that mermaid tail, as well as about where he thinks the pirate lovebirds might end up next should the series return for Season 3.

Congrats on Season 2! Now that we can finally talk about it, what has it been like getting to see fan reactions, especially during the SAG-AFTRA strike?

Rhys Darby: Yeah, it was like a pressure cooker that needed to burst, for us and for the fans. When it finally came out, the burst happened and there was so much love for us, [but we] couldn’t talk about it. We were still stuck in this bottle and the cork wouldn’t come off, and that was difficult, but it was really lovely to see all the love and the surprise from everyone. Obviously, as you know, the fan artwork, it’s what we would say in New Zealand is pretty full on. So yeah, it was super cool.

And not that anyone gives out numbers, but I think I heard on the ethos that people [are] watching it, and it’s rating really high and at a time when we need this kind of beautiful love fest of comedy with a whole bunch of silliness to take us away from the disasters that are happening in the world. It’s been lovely. I just wish it was longer. I know people watch and rewatch and they’re so fanatical, but it’s just a comedy show, so to have any effect means so much to us.

In Season 2, Stede’s gone through a few transformations, one of which is that he’s a real pirate now, at least comparatively to Season 1. What helped you get into that new version of him? Was it the writing, costumes, or a combination of the two?

Yeah, the costumes are the first thing that comes to mind because once he starts wearing different gear, he looks at himself and goes, “Oh my God, I’m a different man.” And he really is turning from a man who is wearing these beautiful gowns with high heels and things inappropriate for a pirate ship to becoming an Errol Flynn-type hero straight away. That’s what they wanted to do with the character. So he’s lost a lot of that beautiful pageantry and is becoming a more practical guy who has to survive. He returns to this nightmare of a world because he wants to fight for love, and for want of a better term, “man up,” whatever the modern-day version of that is, “person up?” To become the guy that he dreamt of being in the first season.

He didn’t dream that he was going to fall in love with someone. He dreamt he was going to be this amazing pirate and that just was not going to happen. But then when he found this love, I think he went away from that [dream] going, “I don’t deserve this.” And then when he realized upon returning home that he does deserve it, he had to fight for it. And so the only way to fight for it was to drop the battle armor of the gowns and actually become the pirate he imagined being. So it was great to become that and to fight for that love and to thank god that [Blackbeard] didn’t die. He would’ve actually lost it, I think, because it would’ve been like, “Well, what am I fighting for now?”

I think it was just so fun to see that character change, but also within that change, see a bit of the old self come through, especially when he found that cursed red suit. And all of a sudden it was like, “Oh my God, the old me again, look how good I look!” So it was lovely that they had those elements… I was missing a little bit of the old Stede myself. So it was great to find that again. And then again near the end with the British invasion scenario where I got to do the big coat and everything, which of course looked awesome. You can see that moment where I put it on and did that slow turnaround. It was way more filmic shots of me wearing that kind of stuff. And I think that gave Stede's strength as well. So much of Stede's embodiment comes from the things he’s wearing.

Speaking of costumes, the big one of the season had to be Stede’s mermaid look. How did you wrap your head around getting ready for such a fantastical, and ultimately, beautiful scene?

That was the highlight of the whole season for me. As a kid, I used to swim around like a little merkid. I would put my legs together and I’d swim under the water. I’ve always been into mermaids and things because I’m into cryptozoology. So when I got to be a mermaid or a merman, I really took to it. It was pretty easy, to be honest with you. I didn’t have any training to swim like that. So the only training I did was some breath work beforehand to help me hold my breath longer. But that was kind of almost superfluous. Once I got that [tail] on, I just became a mermaid. It’s hard for me to describe how I suddenly become these things, but I think I just got under the water. I could swim really easily with it.

And I had weights on. So one of the things was we had to make sure I was the right weight so that I wouldn’t just float. That thing was sort of buoyant. So once we sorted that out, I could actually swim really well, and then just sort of hover underneath the water for a long time while [Taika]’s looking at me, I’m looking at him. To see it on the day, on the screen when I knew they’d got [the shot], there were just so many cheers, and I think they even played the music to see how the scene would work out. It’s one of those life moments where you go, “Oh my God, I’m becoming a cryptid again. I’m never going to forget this.”

This season really does focus even more on Stede and Blackbeard’s romance. How did you and Taika prepare for that? Especially since Stede’s more transparent about his feelings this time around.

It was good, and it was time. And because I was the new strong Stede, it felt really natural for me. I think it just worked really well with the writing because of the aggression that I was going through. When I was fighting that really bad guy [Ned Low (Bronson Pinchot) and] threw a violin at him because he ruined Calypso’s birthday, that was a good moment because it is not just about Ed, it’s about the crew, Stede’s family, and they were going through this amazing moment there, and all of a sudden this guy turns up and next thing we’re getting tortured. And I’m like, “How dare you?”

I think that progression of strength helped [Stede] break into the moment of, “I’m just going to take my lover as well now, and do something with him.” He probably had no idea what he was doing because it’s Stede, but it worked out and it was the right time in the show. Taika and I are really good mates, so it’s really easy to do emotional scenes together. As soon as we put our gear on, we’re just looking at that character, and we admire each other.

You and Taika have been known to improv on the show. Was there any improv moment from Season 2 you were particularly proud to see onscreen?

Yeah. Well, one, I noticed that some people are talking about that they thought was scripted, which wasn’t — most of the [scenes where] I’m with Taika are improvised in those emotional close moments — is on the deck of the boat where we’d do the thumb thing. That was all improvised on the day. So that was fun that we got that kind of stuff in. And there were some more little bits and pieces, but that’s one that comes to mind. That worked really well.

By the end of Season 2, Stede and Blackbeard have settled in to open their own inn. Do you think the peace and quiet will last in a possible third season, or will they get bored and want to rejoin the excitement?

Well, obviously as it stands now, it’s very lovely and it’s a nice positive ending, which is lovely for Season 2. But in reality, if you think about the characters, even in the fictional world, they’re both outlaws, they’re pirates, and the British back then… they never gave up. They did track down all the pirates and either hang them or get rid of them. There was only a couple that got away, and it certainly wasn’t those two. So I think what they’re thinking is, yes, this is bliss, but both those characters must be thinking, this is not going to last because you’ve got to sleep with one eye open.

Even though they’re in the middle of nowhere, they’re still in an area where everyone knows what they are, so they’re going to be tracked down. So I think if it was me, [they’d] end up back in action one way or another, especially if their inn is popular, which it probably would be. Word would get around. I mean, in those days, had you heard the Blackbeard and Stede had opened up an inn, [you’d have] to check that one out. It’ll be like Planet Hollywood.

There would be a wait-list, for sure.

Yeah, absolutely. Basically, they’re too famous now that Stede’s killed Ned and everything. He’s a famous pirate. So death is going to come to their door at some point. They’ll have to deal with it.

Do you think this version of Stede and Blackbeard’s story could avoid the fate of the real-life pirates?

Yeah, no, I think you’re dreaming if you think they’re going to live happily ever after.

Our Flag Means Death, Seasons 1-2, Streaming now, Max

Source: TV Insider

[thydungeongal]

you mentioned OSR modules? read any particularly good ones?

As of late I've been enjoying @cavegirlpoems's Gardens of Ynn and Stygian Libraries! The former recently had a Kickstarter for a new print edition and I recently got my hands on the PDFs for both, and I really enjoy them! They are both depthcrawls, a type of randomized pointcrawl with an almost procedural generation approach to them, so each sojourn into the two will feel completely different each time! I posted about Ynn here briefly:

I also like Necrotic Gnomes' two first-level modules for Old School Essentials, The Incandescent Grottoes and The Hole in the Oak, which (my players don't read this) ||actually combine into an interconnected dungeon with a whole lot of cool stuff to explore!|| Me and my group aren't that deep into them yet, but there have been some really fun instances of actually getting to experience the underworld as a space inhabited by weird lil guys who don't always want to fight (my party ended up making friends with the kobolds foraging moss on the first level of the dungeon and everyone agreed that the kobolds are sweet lil guys).

What else. Oh yeah, Barkeep on the Borderlands looks like a fun bar crawl adventure, sadly I'm not quite sure if I can safely plug it into my open table campaign given its event-based nature.

I also recently checked out The Bloom for Liminal Horror, a cool OSRish modern fantasy module inspired by, among other things, Last of Us, Alan Wake, and Twin Peaks! It's been nominated for an Ennie and I think it has a shot! :)

[penvisions]

zest {chapter 1}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Changes are sudden, lifestyles are altered, and important questions bubble up but through it all, you have Joel by your side.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, c'mon reader and joel have potty mouths, age gap (joel is mid 40’s / reader is late 20’s -early 30’s, protective joel, reader is canonically midsize, pregnant reader, surprise pregnancy, reader goes through nicotine withdrawal, smoking, cigarettes, nicotine use, lots of feelings, lots of emotions, complicated family dynamic, reader has family issues, death of a loved one, mention of life-threatening cancer, reader has religious guilt, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, reader canonically has an eating disorder, mentions of therapy, references to time apart from each other, adult content, smut, piv, unprotected piv be safe y'all!), talk of marriage, adult conversations, joel and reader are down bad for each other.

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: THEY'RE BACK, BABY! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || masterlist || ko-fi

It’s the perfect spring day: sun shining in a warm but not hot brightness, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as you zip past them, an iced coffee, and the singing figure of Ellie in the passenger seat all make the first half of the day melt away. The amber of your sunglasses allows for everything to be swathed in the honeyed hue and you smile to yourself as you recall a rather heated comment from Joel ‘that every goddamn show feels so creative ‘n artsy when they slap the same tones over Mexico’ and then a softer set of words as he had cuddled closer to you on the couch ‘it’s not really like that, I’ve been there, darlin’, trust me’.

“What’re you all gooey lookin’ for, Sabrosa?” Ellie pauses to catch her breath between songs from the newest pop punk album from a band you first enjoyed in your teenage years. Unable to resist the temptation of adding it to your already laden down basket at the bookstore last week when you and the young girl had ditched Joel to run errands. “Ew, gross, don’t think about my dad while I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Oh hush,” You stuck your tongue out at her. Getting a kick out of how casually she sounded. It hadn’t ever been awkward between you two, or her and Sarah despite the six or so years between your birthdays. But then again, Sarah had let you into the secret of the older guy she had started seeing in her graduate program the last time she had been in town visiting… “It’s nothing dirty, just one of his many rants about my choice in television.”

“Lemme guess….oh! The washed-out way they show Mexico, huh? Cause you were watching…oh fuck, what’s that show called…”

“Breaking Bad.” Was the supplied answer from your lips as you turned on the turn signal and began to slow down to turn into the parking lot for the restaurant. It wasn’t operating hours quite yet, too early yet for the dinner crowd Joel preferred to cater to. But Ellie had a shift, and you were dropping her off after classes. She wasn’t in either of the ones you teach, having completed the two semester course you had started off with. But you both had a class that ended around the same time, living so close to the university, she liked being able to walk but then catch a ride with you. Tradition, the word rang in your head. Routine, followed it and you smiled wider at the way your life had fleshed out.

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed as she unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned back in her chair. “Man, I really don’t have the energy for work today, but the old man said we have a full reservation list and then open seating at the bar.”

“Gonna be that way for a while, the article about him came out only two months ago. Everyone’s clamoring for a chance to try the ‘bursting flavors’ and ‘exciting combinations’ of the renowned Chef Joel Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s hot shit right now, at least the restaurant is.” Reaching for her coffee in an imitation of you, she sipped at the whip cream, caramel whatever it is she had gotten. Coffee wasn’t her favorite, so she always got the espresso taken out, a glorified milkshake Joel had teased her once. “Proud of him, though. The restaurant was in shambles when he bought it from the previous owners, some shitty Italian place that never cleaned anything.”

“He’s done good.” You quietly agree, sipping from your own overly complicated drink. That was another tradition of yours and hers, to make your way through the menu at the coffee shops on campus, always pausing to get the special of the month. Joel claimed he didn’t understand the need for so much stuff mixed in with coffee, but you caught him stealing sips of yours if he were to come across it unattended around the house or when you were out and about with him and treated yourself.

“There’s my girls.” Joel chimes as you input your code into the gate for the employee parking and round the side of the building. His voice filtering in through the open windows as you pull into a spot and cut the engine. He’s leaned against the back of the building, cigarette in hand. “Was wondering what took you so long.”

“Accident on the main road, had to detour.” You appease as he approaches to open the door for you and pressed a greeting kiss to your cheek as you roll up the windows. He does the same for Ellie as she sidles up beside him for a side hug before trotting off to the door and disappearing through it. He let’s you pluck the lit cigarette from his fingers as you shoulder your bag and close the door. His hand goes around your waist to walk alongside you toward the building.

“As long as you two are safe, that’s all that matters. Today’s special is spaghetti all nerano, wanna do some grading here and try a plate?” He takes the smoking roll back from your offered hand and takes the last drag before tossing it into the pale beside the door. Opening it and leading you through it with a hand hovering over your lower back.

“That sounds yummy, I’m starving.” You toss him a smile over your shoulder before greeting everyone with a wave.

It’s well into the third hour of service and you never got the chance to leave once the doors opened. The bar had been struggling, Millie having taken over as manager and Mary trying to appease the picky impatient customers who all want a taste of the raved over menu and a glimpse at the alluring Chef Miller.

Picking up a shaker and twisting a bottle of vodka in your grip, you glance at the ticket that just printed and adjust the amount you free pour into it. Mary had been looked so guilty as she approached you’re the table where you do your work on a regular basis, the question of if you were willing to help out getting drinks started for those waiting on tables barely out of her mouth before you were nodding and cleaning up your stuff. It was now safely tucked away in the office and you were moving at a fast pace behind the bar to keep up with everything. Millie stepped down to let you take the reigns, knowing she would only get in your way. Ellie could be seen picking up and dropping off glasses at the well as often as Millie as she acted as barback.

The restaurant was buzzing, excited conversation and pleasant atmosphere making you remember the tingling high of getting off from a busy shift with a wad of cash tucked into your pocket. Just as you place a strainer over the shaker and begin to pour the contents over six shot glasses the door to the kitchen swings open and Joel walks through. You’re too busy, so you shift the chilled shots to the mat over the well and place the corresponding tickets beside them. Moving onto the next drink, you rinse out the shaker with the star sink in place.

His eyes catch yours through the crowd of people when you look up as Ellie comes up to take the shots and then watching as she delivers them, the sound of the shaker loud in your ear as you hold it over your head. His steps don’t falter as he approaches the table, he was delivering the plate to, but you could see something flash over his face. He’s back behind the door as you move to lodge the shaker open.

The night goes by quickly, taking orders for those lucky enough to snag a spot at the bar but hadn’t been able to make a reservation. Shoving each cash tip into a pint glass for the girls and even taking a few business cards from people interested in hosting parties in the space. You’ll be sure to pass those along to Mary, even if some of them requested you as the bartender. You didn’t mind, missing the atmosphere and good moments you had experienced in the setting. Ellie is taking back the remaining dishes from the last few tables, Millie is out back smoking after helping to clean up the bar top when Joel ambles from the kitchen once again.

He's got his chef’s coat unbuttoned and loose around the shirt underneath, the glint of his belt buckle catching the fairy lights around the bar. His steel curls are slicked back, but you could see the frizz and fluffiness where they rested over the back of his neck. He had been saying he needed a haircut, but you had made a sound in the back of your throat that made him put it off.

His eyes are trained on you as you move the trash cans full of empty bottles to line up beside the drink pick up area. You’re about to return behind the bar with a wink thrown over your shoulder when he snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. He smells amazing, the perfect mix of savory spices, smoke, and Joel.

“Playin’ restaurant, huh? Thought you went home and passed out.” He leans down to kiss your jawline.

“Nah, Mary asked for my help when Millie got swamped.” You breath out, hands coming up to rest on his chest and push should he get a little too enthusiastic in you still being here.

“Not your responsibility.” His eyes hold no real heat or command, you know it’s born from a place of worry, of not wanting you to stretch yourself too thin.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind.” You cradle his cheek in one hand and play with the collar of his open coat with the other. His eyes glance down, the glitter from your lotion catching the light on your neck and chest.

“Hmm, you looked good. Dress looks good on you, shakin’ those drinks and-“

“Dad, holy crap, it was so busy tonight. Some dude tipped me like fifty percent because he was trying to impress his date!” Ellie plops down on a stool with her server’s book. She doesn’t even look up from where she begins to go over the receipts. “Wait until everyone leaves to start doing that or better yet, wait until you’re home to do that.”

“One day you’re gonna meet someone and it’s gonna be hard to keep your hands to yourself.” You only giggle at the typical parent response from Joel. Ellie wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but you were sure she would be with the right person, you’d seen her flirty interactions with girls while out with you and your friends, tagging along for the free drinks and to have safe company. She was pretty smooth if she didn’t get into her head too much, soft touches to shoulders and waists, though she steadfastly refused to dance. With anyone, no matter the setting.

“Gross,” She begins to fill out the printed shift report before organizing the receipts in order and then asks you for the stapler. Detangling yourself from the man, you do make it back behind the bar. That’s when she notices the pint glass. “Holy shit! You made all that?”

“Huh? Oh, no. The restaurant did. Here.” You hand the wad of bills over to Joel. With your own shift report and stapled receipts. He uses two nimble fingers to extract the shift report but leaves the cash in your hand. Frowning, you track the report as it’s tucked into his back pocket along with Ellie’s. Her own cash tips secure in her booklet.

“Also gonna see about getting some of the petty cash from the safe for the hours you worked.” He begins to take the full bags from the trash cans, tying the ends together tight.

“Joel.”

“You worked, you get paid.” He doesn’t look up as he reaches into the bottom for the rolls sitting inside and begins to place new ones over the lips of the plastic.

“I’m your girlfriend. Who used to work here. I was just helping out.”

“Nope, not gonna fly, darlin’. It’s yours.” He slides the empties cans back around the bar for you to put back in their designated places.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Ellie reaches for it and you let her swipe it from your hand. Only for Joel to set her with a look. “Oooor not.” She says as she puts it down atop the clean bar top.

“Joel!”

“Can’t hear you, Sabrosa, gotta make sure the kitchen duties were done.”

“Seriously, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” You quirk an eyebrow at the younger girl, but Millie bounces up and says everyone was going out for a bite at the taco truck parked a few blocks down. They have a spot in a lot that has picnic tables and offer late night service. Ellie takes off, ensuring you she’ll text either you or Joel when she’s back at the townhouse afterwards. She’d been staying the second bedroom there more and more, as you found yourself splitting your time pretty evenly between it and Joel’s. He would join you sometimes, but certain nights either you needed you own space or he did and that was okay.

Sighing, you lock the patron door behind her and turn the sign from open to closed.

As you’re double checking everything is shut down properly, you open the washer to let the last load of glasses air dry, the steam billowing out. Turning when you hear the swing of the kitchen door again, Joel has his chef’s coat tossed over his shoulder and his backpack over the other. His eyes zone in on the cash and then a smirk takes over his face. You turn your attention back to the washer and ensure it’s off before you round the bar top and makes sure it was swept underneath the stools. You’re about to ask him which car you were gonna take home when you spot a crumpled napkin you must’ve missed.

As you bend down to pick it up, you feel thick fingers sneak beneath the skirt of your dress. You don’t think anything of it until you feel Joel tuck a bill from the stack into the band of your panties. Knuckles grazing against your slit as he moves to the other hip and does the same. You shoot up, the napkin forgotten as you try to turn around.

“Nu-uh,” His palms come to rest on your lower back and shoulders, bending you over one of the stools as the heat of his body looms close. He whispers something about having to scrub the video cameras set up around the dining room before you hear the clink of his belt being undone and feel him move your panties to the side. You throb at the feel of the cooler air circulating around the room, a gasp leaving your lips as he gently runs the head of his cock over your folds, arousal from you both making it such a smooth motion.

As he reaches over your back for something, he fills you up, the stretch of his girth feeling like a reward for the hectic shift completed. But you know the night would’ve ended like this either way.

A moan rips from your chest as he grabs a hold of whatever he had been trying to get, hips flush with yours. He chuckles, pleased with himself before his hands sneak around to cup your breasts as they threaten to spill out from your dress at the prone position. His fingers tuck more bills into your underwear, beneath the straps over your shoulders, into the already full cups to peak out over the swell of your chest. He even tucks one into the mess of your hair thrown up into a clip at the back of your head before his hands secure around your waist and he begins to thrust.

That’s the last memory you have of both smoking and drinking, only a few days before you had anxiously waited for a piece of plastic to tell you your fate. It was now a month since finding out, Joel making sure to go with you to get confirming bloodwork and a full physical. The headaches from missing both finally having abated. Joel on the other hand, he was sneaking cigarettes, you could smell the lingering smoke on him when would come home and you were still up. It didn’t really bother you, knowing he indulged for far longer than you had in the bad habit. But you missed the social aspect of the act, of seeking out the designated spots around campus and chatting, of sitting out on the back patio with Tommy as he enjoyed one on the evenings he stopped by with his own little family for dinner.

But it was all worth it, you mused as you poured yourself a cup of steaming water into what was once your coffee mug. Tea was something you indulged in now, the cupboard filled with the different types you were trying to work your way through to see what would help with the onslaught of nausea and also appealed to your tastebuds. You preferred the fruity ones, just like you did with your cocktails, hence the nickname Ellie had graced you with that stuck.

Jingling keys and heavy footsteps signaled you to Joel’s return, the sun still shining on the calm afternoon. He had been gone when you showed up at his house, a cookout planned for the day. Tommy and Maria had been here an hour, the grill just about ready for the first of many things to be cooked and the pool was sparkling as it awaited the arrival of Sarah and Ellie. You had spent the morning cleaning it of debris and adding a few treatment drops. The whole family getting together. It was good, it was a good feeling being surrounded by them all. You and Maria hitting it off even more over the news of what was to come. Her own child now nearing two, she had given birth while you and Joel were split. But you had sent a care package and visited her in the hospital with her favorite takeout.

It was so domestic, so full a life…it made you wonder why you hadn’t been able to experience it as a child yourself.

“Missed ya, darlin’.” Joel steps up behind you and embraces you. Kissing your temple, you feel the frown mar his lips as you don’t respond. “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his chest. He smells like cinnamon and the grill brick he used while closing up the restaurant after a brunch shift and you breathe him in as you press your face into his broad chest.

“Gotta shower, wanna join me?’

“The girls will be here soon.” You hold him tighter, missing your own family even if it had never been the same as his own. Dinner once a month with your own father, no visits offered or initiated, grandparents raising you since you were young. A mother who had passed early due to complications from cancer she hadn’t known she had until she was pregnant with you herself. “Wanna make sure everything is ready for them.”

He peppers kisses into your hair before pulling away and disappearing upstairs.

The afternoon continues, the smell of grilling meat and roasting vegetables lilting into the air alongside ruckus laughter and bad jokes. Everyone is comfortable around the patio and the in the pool, food served and consumed. Just a few bites left of everything, Joel ensuring you that he would heed your cravings and what you felt like you could stomach, not worried about leftovers lately.

“So when do we get to meet the rest of the Sabrosa clan?” Tommy askes around the lip of his beer bottle. He’s across from you at the table, Joel off by the grill as he messes with something he hadn’t let you sneak a peak at.

“Oh, um…you don’t?” Caught off guard, the bite of food falls from your plastic fork frozen halfway to your mouth.

“No siblings or nothin?”

“Um, well-“ Clearing your throat you take the bite and chew it contemplatively. Honesty or the thinly veiled truth? Your mind is working hard, something Maria must hear in her seat beside you at the patio table. She shoots Tommy a look you catch out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep calm so the child in dozing in her arms doesn’t stir. “I’ve got two half-siblings, but we don’t keep in contact much.”

“They gonna be at the wedding?”

“What wedding?” “Oh my god, dad! You proposed and didn’t tell us!” Ellie and Sarah holler from where they’re in the pool, one of them resting on a floating device and the other is practicing her laps to get more comfortable in the water. Joel turns from where he was ensuring the grill was off and brings over the s’mores dip he had just let melt to perfection. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the gooey swirl of marshmallow and dark chocolate, of the rye biscuits he must’ve whipped up at work steaming beside it in a single use tin. Set up with a divider in the middle.

“Haven’t proposed to ‘er yet, quit it.” He sits it down atop a trivet, but no one makes a move to reach for it until he gives the go ahead. But he doesn’t until he’s got one of the dark biscuits covered in the dip and set in front of you. Then it was fair game as the girls begin to swim across the length of the pool, or well Sarah tries to glide her floaty across while Ellie does. Tommy readies one for Maria before making his own, quirking an eyebrow at you as he watches the pull of the dip.

“But your dad is gonna walk you down the aisle, right?” Tommy presses on, not catching onto the awkward way you were shifting in your seat or how you had placed your fork down to rest on the edge of your paper plate. The dessert untouched. But you don’t get to think of an answer before one is flying from your emotionless face.

“Can’t, he’s dead.”

Silence falls over the once happy and jovial backyard, the splash of Sarah slipping from her floating longue echoing.

“Tommy.” Joel’s voice is firm as he pins his brother with a mild glare. Maria is equally unpleased with her husband’s penchant for talking without thinking, not reading the room. He yelps as she kicks his shin underneath the table.

“It’s okay, wasn’t much of a father when he was alive anyway.” You reach for the mocktail you had made a pitcher of for you and the girls to enjoy. No one says anything as you pour yourself another and take a sip from it. Not liking the tension that had crept into the atmosphere, you gather up your nearly empty plate and stack it atop Maria’s to take inside, making more room for the messy dessert. Slinking away, you feel Maria reach out a hand to trail down your arm, comforting you before you’re gone back into the house.

“You dumbfuck.” Ellie mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Joel over his shoulder for her language. But he doesn’t disagree. You do, but it wasn’t his fault. How was Tommy supposed to know he had picked the one subject you had nothing good to say about?

“Shit, I- holy shit.” Tommy’s voice follows you before he yelps a second time as Joel brandishes the still warm tongs from serving biscuits.  

“Way to shove your foot in your mouth, we were havin’ a good time.”

“I didn’t know! I thought she was just quiet about her family not that she didn’t have any.”

“Tommy, you’re the father of my child and my husband but you are seriously so stupid sometimes.”

“Dad, she-she doesn’t have any family?” Sarah is tearing up, affected by the sudden realization of why you never brought anyone around except for a friend every once in a while. She could understand not having a mother, as her own was so distant, only showing up when she needed something or felt lonely in the life she created for herself. But to not have a dad? That was all she knew and she couldn’t fathom how her life would have been without him in it;.

“She’s got us, baby girl.” Joel goes to run a hand over her shoulder and press a kiss to the fluff of her kinky curls as she stands beside the pool set into the ground outside the patio. He wraps the towel she brought out around her and rubs it across her shoulders before lifting his hands. “We’re her family, pretty good deal, huh?”

“Dad….”

“She’ll be okay, I promise.”

The laid back vibe from the afternoon returns once everyone piles into the living room to watch the season finale of an admittedly awful reality tv show. But everyone was hooked and harmless bets were made on who would cause the most drama and how things would end. You’re a little subdued, but you make comments along with everyone else and laugh at the absurdity of what happens on the screen.

Stepping out of the bath you had decided to soak in, you startle when you see Joel sat on the small bench in the master bathroom across from the vanity as you pull back the shower curtain. He’s already changed into his sleep pants, his freckled and bronzed chest on display through the steam.

“Darlin’, why didn’t you tell me your dad was passed?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” You stand in front of him, taking in the way he watches you through the mirror as you press a bead of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and wet it before popping it into your mouth. A heavy silence fills the room, tangling with the rose scented steam from the bubble bar you had used. The pink water swirling down the sink a near silent hum.

“It-uh, kinda does. Makes me feel…like a whole wedding would be…”

“You don’t have to ask me. We don’t have to get married if it’s going to be a problem.” Shoving down the worries and residual guilt of being raised in a certain religious culture at the thought of having a child out of wedlock, having a child as a single woman you catch the man’s gaze through the mirror. The burn of embarrassment simmers beneath your skin, shame for feeling such embarrassment sparkling behind it, creating a swirl of emotions you hadn’t wanted to feel this close to bed with an early class. You want to marry him, to experience that with him, to live life together as husband and wife, but it feels perfunctory when you didn’t even believe in the reasoning behind why you felt that way. He’s frowning, his brows knit close together, something off in the depths of his brown eyes.

“It’s not a problem…right?” You see the worry flickering through him, in the way his eyes shift and the way he clenches his fists in his lap. “I just…you know you’re a part of the Millers. Have been since the moment you caught my attention, but baby…I don’t want you to feel lonely if it’s my family and your friends.”

“Are you insinuating because I don’t have a family of my own, I’m somehow missing something?” Anger flared hot and sticky in you, washing out the embarrassment. The heat from your bath making it so much worse and you cross the room to pull the door open. Back at the vanity, you ignore his gaze and rinse out your mouth before moving on to clean and moisturize your face. He’s quiet behind you, knowing he phrased his sentiment wrong and this…this communication was new for you both. Still hard sometimes as you both realize how deep some things run and how different you could be.

“You know I’m not.” The gaze he has trained on you reminds you of the way he would watch you through the kitchen, tensions high as you both couldn’t seem to get your heads out of the dirt and just be honest with each other. A time that had passed, allowing for the present to bloom.

“Then a wedding wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s kind of moot, you haven’t proposed.” You don’t anticipate the slight edge to the words as they leave your lips, but they slice through the air. You feel shame overtake the waning anger, making your face hot underneath your massaging hands. The burn of tears threaten to ruin the routine you just completed and you hiccup as your hands flatten atop the vanity, head hanging between your shoulders. You do not like this, but you have no idea where it’s coming from. It really doesn’t bother you that he hasn’t asked. You know he has the intention to, the agreement of a visit to town hall and then a small party to celebrate. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, simple.

“Hey,” He whispers as he comes up behind you, hands resting over the quick beating of your heart, his naked chest pressed to your back, the damp towel the only thing separating you. But you can feel his own heart between your shoulder blades, strong and sturdy. Grounding you in the way you had explained you preferred when overwhelmed. “I promise I wasn’t trying to upset you, just want you to be comfortable, to have everything you deserve.”

You let him help you to dry off the rest of your body, lotion lovingly applied to your body by his hands before you slip into a nightgown and slip between the sheets beside him. You kiss an apology to his lips, needing him to know that it was just initial panic and not the real way you thought or felt. He accepts it and offers one of his own, lips pressed to your chest, right over your heart before sleep takes ahold of you both.

“I said don’t.” You warned, no humor in your voice. You had tried and failed to put on every one of your pairs of pants, jeans, leggings, and none of them were comfortable. None of them zipped, buttoned, or stretched enough underneath the slight bump that had seemingly blossomed overnight. Joel was sprawled on the bed, working his way to getting up at the late hour. He had been at the restaurant late, later than usual as they had a party stay well after service hours. He had let the staff go on time, ensuring they would get the tip out but not wanting them to have to stay once all the cleaning and side work was done. One of the many things you adored about the man, his willingness to heed situations like that in favor of his staff even if he was gruff and to the point most of the day.

“Didn’t say nothin’, darlin’.” He rumbled from beneath the sheets, tan skin looking deliciously golden paired with the pale pink set you had insisted changing from the white that had previously been curled around the mattress. You had woken up with bad cramps last month, terrified something had happened as you pulled back the covers to find blood spotting the pristine fabric. A quick trip the emergency room as he shared in your panic, albeit in a more controlled way, assured you that spotting was normal during the early months of pregnancy.

“Dress...” You muttered to yourself, hand cradling around the small bump. Joel only hummed, stretching out to alleviate his sore body, thick legs appeared from beneath the fabric. Your eyes traced the long lines of his body through the mirror atop the dresser, drinking in the sight of him and your body began to thrum with arousal. When your eyes roved up the expanse of his broad chest dusted with dark hair to his face, he was smirking at you with an eyebrow arched in a silent question of how long you would ignore his deliberate departure from the bed.

You had all but jumped him when he got home last night, papers you were grading scattered all around you on the couch and coffee table, a Josh Gates show on the television for moral encouragement. He had teased you once about your affinity for the man but you had clapped back with his borderline obsession with Anthony Bourdain, to which he simply said ‘can’t help it darlin’, the man knew his shit’.

The dinner he had brought home had been tossed to the entry way table, as you knelt down to help remove him from his shoes and pants. Mouthing at the line of him through his boxer briefs before he could even get his keys hooked on the mirror over the table. He had been prepared to find you fast asleep, a different kind of tired taking hold of you more and more, almost demanding naps during the day when you got home from campus and right before dinner if you hadn’t worked. But you had sprung up from your spot and welcomed him home, the food forgotten in favor of getting your fill of the man that had been consuming your thoughts. The thought makes his cock fill, twitching underneath the sheets as he recalls your enthusiasm.

He sees the way your eyes dilate at the movement, the hush of his hand skimming down to grip himself.

Suddenly, you’re no longer debating over the clothing flowing from the draws inside the closet or those of the dresser. You peeled the pants you had been fruitlessly trying to zip up and nearly threw yourself at him. He greedily accepts your frantic kisses, starting from his shins and all the way up neck to finally connect with his own. He groans at the taste of coffee you had allowed yourself this morning, his own cup still steaming on the bedside table. His glasses beside it, his cellphone lighting up only to be ignored.

“Does mama need some attention?” He breathes into your open mouth, large palms caressing the exposed skin of your hips. His hands graze your middle, and you shy away from him, self-conscious of the extra jiggle, the stretchmarks from rapid weight fluctuation of your years now accommodating the swell of the beginning signs of the life you two had created together. “Hey, no, c’mere.”

You’re sure he sees the flicker of emotions across your face before you school it into a cool arch of your brow, the playful smirk of your lips. Falling back on bravado that wanes far too quickly these days as your hormones ping pong all over the place. You were just as apt to burst into silent tears as you were to jump him, confusing for you and devasting for him as he tries to read your moods as well as he can. He was hoping to dislodge the habit of you seeking refuge in the townhouse you had gifted Ellie, her own budding relationship prompting her to ask for her own space just as the new stage of your life became known to them. Equal parts of respect for the more tender and tense moments sure to happen and yearning for her own space again.

“Mama needs some new clothes, wanna spoil me?” Your voice is a confident hush, hands reaching forward to urge him to shift closer, both of you on your sides and facing each other.

“Do anythin’ for you, darlin’, you know that.” His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck, tugging you back to him. That seemed to get you to forget your insecurities as he felt you pull him closer, your smaller hands so soft on his chest as they caressed his skin.

“I think I wanna go to that fancy mall, maybe get some pretty underwear that won’t make me feel like a total loser.”

“I’ll take ya anywhere you want, maybe even that big shopping center in Dallas? It’ll be just like the trip we took to Arizona. Could get a hotel, see the sights and just relax. Hear they have a mac and cheese restaurant in the arts district.” He rolls to pin you down, and you move to allow him space between your legs instinctually. Body hovering over yours as he kisses down your neck, your chest, he lets his words sink in. The bralette you had put on doing nothing to hide the perk of your nipples. He laps at them through the thin fabric, delighting in the way it makes you arch up into him. You were so sensitive to his touch lately, your body on high alert as your hormones fluctuate erratically.

“That’s a lot, Joel. Shouldn’t we-“ Your hesitant words are cut off by a searing kiss, the press of his skin against yours making it hard to keep your train of thought.

“We should do what we want, darlin’. Wanna get everything sorted to go this weekend?”

Tears are suddenly pitter pattering over the sheets, darkening the fabric where they land after rolling down the sides of your face. He pushes his weight from where it pressed you to the bed, back on your sides and you let him, unable to stem the tears.

“Oh hey, hey it’s okay,” Joel crowds close, the thin fabric separating your bodies as you bury your face in his neck and curl your legs up, knees pressing into his stomach. Hiccups startle you both as you find it suddenly hard to breath through the onslaught of emotions spiking. “Hey now, darlin’, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” You mumble into his skin, embarrassment flaring up hot in your cheeks and chest. You feel so silly, pulled in too many directions in so quick a succession. “I just…you’re so hot and I’m all bloated and my skin feels all tight and I really want some ice cream.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re happily spooning a sundae into your mouth with a red plastic spoon in the passenger seat of his truck. All the tears and frustration gone from you as you held tight to the treat in your hands with far too many flimsy napkins. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the hand he rests on the inside of the door, trying to keep as much smoke from wafting back into the cab as possible. Errands, today was an errand day and you smiled over at him. Pairs of sunglasses meeting, eyes hidden beneath them. He just leans over to press a kiss to your temple, not wanting to disrupt your enjoyment of the ice cream you literally cried over.

next chapter

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77 @koshkaj-blog @corazondebeskar-reads @ozarkthedog @littlemisspascal @endlessthxxghts @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @sawymredfox @cumberpegg @grandanchorkitten @noisynightmarepoetry

@regalwhovianbrowncoat774

@pazizz

[highvern]

Slay you deserve a million followers for teach me series. Can I request DK or MG kabedon? 🥹 humor or serious or against all odds angst would make my dreams come true you’re amazing

NGL I had to look up what that was and I can only imagine humor but this ended up super fluffy too im sorry for no angst anon 😔

Please accept this as my apology!!!

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom x fem!reader

Genre: humor, suggestive, fluff

Warnings: reader loves a boozy brunch, and they have a dachshund named Mango,

Note: Mayhaps be read as a long long long away epilogue of Teach Me couple

“Damn, you shit with that ass?” You drunkly smile at your boyfriend attempting to shuffle you inside your shared apartment.

When you swat at the curve of plump flesh, Dokyeom rolls his eyes with a groan. He can’t help but smile despite his exasperation with your antics. Bold comments from you has a special way of turning him into a blushing stuttering mess despite years of dating. Something about the brazen way you declare your interest after so much time together sends his heart into orbit, millions of butterflies filling his chest until he is convinced it’ll explode.

But the hallway of your apartment complex at two in the afternoon on a Sunday is not high on Dokyeom’s list of places to be felt up by his girlfriend. Coupled with the knowledge he only has so much time to get you horizontal before you refuse to move yourself, Dokyeom is too stressed to enjoy the usual banter you supply after too many mimosas at brunch with your friends.

The chilled metal door gives way under your combined weight, throwing Dokyeom forward as his feet fail to find their grounding — a firm thud ricocheting through the space under the bounce of his shoulders against the plaster wall.

A smack! echoes in response under your hand landing above his shoulder, pinning a wide eyed Dokyeom underneath your hips as you’re dragged forward by momentum.

“So…do you come here often?”

“To our house?” Dokyeom responds, eyebrows furrowing in amusement.

Crowding into the limit spacefurther, you watch him through your lashes— failing to realize your attempt at coyish allure leaves you resembling a round eyed calf.

Your slow blinks force a guffaw from his lips, shaking your stomach where it touches his own as the crown of Dokyeom’s skull meets the wall behind him.

Pouting as he works through the last of his giggles, you twirl with a huff; nose in the air as you trudge towards the living room.

Mango doesn’t rise from her sprawl across the couch, belly up as she basks in the sun flooding from the glass doors leading to the balcony. Her long golden hair spills onto the couch beneath her oblong body as she watches her parents with little interest.

Tangling your arms around her, you hold her tightly to your chest. “My baby!”

A sharp bark of displeasure answers, followed by your boyfriend gently setting her back on the couch as you sigh forlornly.

“No one in this house loves me.” You wail, stomping your foot while the familiar heat of Dokyeom’s arms curl around your waist once more.

“C’mon babe, let’s go lay down.”

Digging your heels into the ground, you turn to face him. “You love me, right?”

“Always.” Dokyeom smiles, a sweet kiss between your wrinkled brows signing his confession.

“Ew, I have a boyfriend!” You gasp, failing to wiggle out of his grip.

Distracting you in an effort to coral you into the bedroom, Dokyeom plays along. “Oh?”

“Yeah, and he’ll kick your butt!”

“Will he now?” Dokyeom nods, managing to work you out of the living room and down the hall.

“Yeah! And he’s all big and buff.”

“Oh, really? And he’ll fight me for you?”

You sigh once more, “No, he’s too nice.”

“Too bad.”

“I know, he’s really hot when he’s angry.”

Dokyeom fills that tidbit of information away for later, focusing on slipping the tight denim stretched across your hips down so you can sleep comfortably.

“What else do you like about your boyfriend?” He prompts, lifting each leg to free you from the offending garment before gently pushing you to sit on the bed while he works off your shirt.

Arms raised over your head, you eagerly list of the things you love about your boyfriend; a goofy faraway grin brightening your face.

“He’s the best! He’s funny and he’s really sweet and,”

Continuing to prattle on, you don’t notice the way your boyfriend falters under the praise you so eagerly throw his way.

“And Dokyeom is like perfect with kids especially my nieces! I can’t wait until we have kids.”

Kids.

You want kids. With him.

It wasn’t as if it had never been a topic of discussion. You both had been clear from the start that it was a something you’d wanted. But kids and marriage were always a distant goal for you two, nothing to consider for a least a few more years.

But you think about having kids with him. And suddenly he wonders what it’d be like.

Images of babies fill his head; ones with your eyes and his nose, smart like their mom but with their dad’s sense of humor. Bald and perfectly chubby in that cute way only babies are. Then it’s two little girls filling his ears with shrill giggles as he chases them around the living room with your own laughter chiming in from the couch.

Oh boy.

“But we have to get married first. And you can’t tell him I told you but," Comically looking left and right, eyes impossibly round, you drop into a whisper. "I found a ring in the dresser so I think he’ll ask me soon.”

You rock back and forth, feet kicking just above the shag rug as Dokyeom digs up an old shirt from the very dresser he’s had a certain ring hidden in for the past few months.

Finding his voice, albeit shakily, Dokyeom pries for more information.

“If he asks, what would you say?”

A brilliant smile lights your face — blinding in joy, putting all the wonders of the world to shame. You practically glow as you look up at him with so much emotion Dokyeom thinks he might pass out.

“That I’d love to marry you.”

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

Inside, the shop is full and alive with noise.

I follow as Lex leads Asher toward the kiosk. We each punch in our orders and then join the dozen-or-so people gathered at the counter scrolling on their phones or chatting amongst each other as they wait for orders to be filled by baristas expertly racing around each other in the narrow space on the other side.

Lex, trying to avoid the office for as long as possible, insists that we stay and enjoy our coffee here. Just as I’m about to point out that there are no empty tables available, a group gets up to leave, conveniently leaving three empty chairs for us. She dramatically runs over and sits down to claim the table before anyone else can and flashes me a triumphant smile for having won a competition that no one else knew they were in.

As Ash and I join her at the table, we pick the conversation up where we left off because, apparently, no one will ever let me live this down.

“Okay, but seriously, Wyatt? He’s kind of a creep, isn’t he?” Asher asks, making me sigh loudly.

“I mean, kind of, it’s looking that way. When I said he was cute, last season by the way, I didn’t realize I’d be answering to his character for the rest of the series.”

“Honestly, Ash is no better,” Lex tells me, “He’s into Bruno.”

“Bruno? And you’re giving me shit about Wyatt?”

Asher just shrugs, unaffected, “What? He’s tall, blonde, fit, what’s not to like?”

I scoff jokingly, “Now you’re just flirting with me,” and nudge his arm with my fingertips, the contact sending a spark up my arm and into my chest.

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” I smile and he winks at me again, forcing me to turn away.

“I will admit, you’re cute when you blush like that,” he says, sounding quite satisfied with himself.

“Anyway. Bruno though? Wyatt may be creepy, but Bruno is a psychopath.”

“No no no no, mark my words, by the end of the season Bruno will turn out to be a nice guy, and Wyatt will be revealed as the psychopath.”

“You really think so?”

“I’d listen to him,” Lex chimes in, “Ash is the most annoying person in the world to watch shows and movies with because he always predicts the ending and he’s never wrong.”

“If you say so.” I shake my head and take a sip of my coffee.

“I’m also predicting Bruno turns out to be gay," Asher adds, "but that might just be wishful thinking on my part.”

“You’re both idiots anyway. Everyone knows the ginger is the star of the show for a reason,” Lex flips her red curls over her shoulder.

“Well, yeah,” Asher tells her, “Everyone loves Oscar. That’s a given.”

“What about you, then,” I ask, “Who’s your favorite? Besides Oscar.”

She leans her head toward Asher and sighs dreamily as they say in unison, “Suzie.”

“Fair enough, can’t say anything bad about Suzie.”

“Exactly! I have better taste than the two of you combined!”

Prev // Next

🧡Somnium

[the-lying-heavens]

"Fragments of Time"

Maze Runner Time travel AU, Newtmas

Masterlist

Based on this post

Summary: Newt finds himself transported to the ruins of the Last City in the future, where he reunites with Thomas and the others. But someone follows him to this other dimension, someone who has sworn to put an end to the Safe Haven.

Warnings: Themes of grief and loss, references to the Flare and infection, mild violence, fluff (let me know if there's anything else)

Word Count: 2.3k words

A/N: this is gonna have to have a part two- This also might not be 100% accurate to the post or what they had in mind but I tried my best. Some of this might be inaccurate in the series in general! I tried combining the books and movies somewhat.

One moment, he was in the Last City, worrying about the Flare overtaking him; the next, he stood amidst the ruins of the same city where he had been infected.

Newt looked around, dazed. He was almost sure this was the Last City, but how could this just happen?

Newt stumbled through the debris, trying to take it all in. The skyline of the Last City was unrecognizable, with shattered buildings dotting the landscape like ghosts. He tightened his grip on a makeshift weapon, a rusted pipe he found, and tried to steady his breathing.

He could still feel the Flare in him. It was like a physical thing. Worms swimming through his veins and into his organs slowly but oh so surely, but he could fight it. He knew he could.

As he moved cautiously, the soft scuffle of his footfalls echoed off the crumbling concrete. Suddenly, he heard a noise—something that sounded like a low growl, followed by a shuffle.

Crank.

He quickly ducked behind a fallen wall, sweat trickling down his brow.

But before he could gather his thoughts, he bumped into a neon sign buzzing faintly on the ground with his bad leg.

"Shuck," he swore quietly. Panic surged through him as he struggled to regain his footing, but it was too late.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, and Newt's heart pounded in his ears. He held his breath, hoping that whoever—or whatever—it was wouldn't find him. He couldn't fight a Crank with a shucking pipe.

Just as he thought he might escape, a figure rounded the corner. It was a tall silhouette, moving cautiously, scanning the surroundings. He held the pipe tightly. He could try.

"Who's there?" a very familiar voice shouted, echoing in the desolate space.

Tommy?

"Come out or I'll shoot!" Thomas yelled.

"Don't shoot!" Newt yelled back, dropping his weapon and stepping out into Thomas's line of sight.

The first thing he saw was the launcher pointed at his face. "Don't move!"

"It's me! It's Newt!"

"Newt?" 

"Yeah, it's me," Newt replied, stepping cautiously into view, hands raised to in surrender. "I don't know how I got here, but—"

Thomas lowered his weapon. His hair was tousled, and there was a smudge of dirt across his cheek, but the familiar intensity in his gaze remained unchanged. He wore a makeshift vest, frayed at the edges, and his shirt was slightly torn.

Oh shucking hell, that was not something Newt should be focusing on right now—

"Wait, hold on!" Thomas interrupted, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the illusion. "You were... you were gone."

"One moment I'm in the WICKED headquarters, and then—" He gestured to the ruins around them. "I'm here. I don't understand it either!"

Thomas's grip on the weapon faltered, confusion evident on his face. "This can't be real. How can you just show up like this? It's impossible!"

Newt took a hesitant step forward. "I'm here, Tommy."

Their eyes locked, and the world around them faded. "How...? I thought I'd never see you again."

"What do you mean?" Newt asked. "What happened?"

Thomas swallowed hard. "You—you died."

The blonde boy frowned. "What?"

"The Flare—I—I had to—" He swallowed again.

"Thomas, what do you mean?" Newt's voice wavered. "I'm here. I can't be dead if I'm standing right in front of you."

Thomas's expression shifted. "You were gone, Newt. I watched you... You were infected, and then..." Thomas's eyes widened.

"We need to get back to Safe Haven."

"Safe Haven?" Newt asked, still trying to process everything.

"It's not far from here," Thomas said firmly.

"Right," Newt said, exhaling. "Lead the way."

He wasn't sure what was going on but he trusted Thomas. He always would.

------------

The first place Thomas led Newt was a Med tent. There were two of them, one on the outskirts of Safe Haven and one in the middle of it, just in case.

Brenda was there, turning to greet Thomas when her eyes landed on Newt. "What—"

"The cure! Now!"

Brenda stuttered before obeying quickly, getting a syringe filled with a blue liquid.

"Cure?" Newt looked between them, eyes wide, "You found a cure for the Flare?"

Seeing Newt again felt impossible. It was impossible. He was supposed to be dead. Thomas killed him. Newt begged him to.

But he was standing right in front of him. And he could finally finally save him.

Brenda basically stabbed Newt with the needle, and he flinched.

Brenda stared at him. "How?"

Thomas also stared. "Great question."

Newt cleared his throat. "I agree with that."

"I mean WICKED has to do something with—"

"WICKED is gone," Thomas said plainly.

Newt frowned. "It is? We did it? Can someone tell me what's going on!?"

"From the past...?" Brenda muttered in awe. "Is that even possible?"

"Might as well be," Thomas said, "Would it really be that surprising?"

Brenda shook his head. "No. I guess not."

Thomas didn't want to know how Newt got here. Not if there was even the smallest possibility it would take Newt away from him again.

------------

Minho was the first one who saw Newt but the last one to approach him. Newt felt his eyes on him as everyone else rushed toward him, their voices overlapping in a flurry of excitement and disbelief.

Minho remained at a distance, his arms crossed tightly, a mixture of hope and caution on his face.

Thomas walked up to him and started talking to him quietly. Not once did Minho look away from Newt.

"Is it really you?" Minho finally called out, breaking his silence but still staying put.

"It's me," Newt replied, taking a cautious step forward.

A flicker of relief crossed Minho's face, but his eyes still searched Newt's, looking for any signs of the Flare or a trick. "You sure? You look... different."

"I'm okay. I promise."

Minho unfolded his arms slowly, still hesitant. "You don't look okay, shank. You look like you've seen hell."

"Maybe I have," Newt said, "But I'm here. That counts for something, right?"

Minho's resolve broke, and he pulled Newt into a suffocating hug. "Don't you dare leave us again," he murmured into Newt's shoulder.

Newt hugged him back just as hard. "I won't. Not if I have anything to say about it."

------------

Janson blinked as he regained consciousness. Disoriented, he realized he was sprawled on the cold concrete. The Last City stretched around him, a shadow of its old self, with crumbling buildings and debris everywhere.

He pushed himself to his feet, brushing dust off his clothes. Confusion settled in—how had he ended up here?

"What the fuck?" he muttered. He needed to find out what happened and where everyone was.

As he stepped forward, he heard a faint shuffle in the distance. Janson froze, instincts kicking in. He quickly scanned the area, searching for any sign of life—or danger.

A Crank stumbled into view, its eyes wild and unsteady. Janson's stomach dropped. He had faced enough of these creatures to know how dangerous they could be.

He held his breath, waiting for the right moment. The Crank shuffled closer, muttering incoherently. Janson picked up a sharp, rusted piece of metal, ready to defend himself.

As the Crank turned its back, Janson saw his chance. He dashed out from his hiding place and swung the metal shard with all his strength. It connected, and the Crank collapsed, but the sound echoed in the desolation, alerting others.

"Shit!" he hissed, scanning for more Cranks. He needed to move quickly.

He sprinted through the wreckage, searching for shelter, a place to regroup and plan.

Ahead, a flicker of light caught his eye—a neon sign half-buried in debris. Janson picked up his pace, hoping it was some form of refuge. As he approached, he realized it was an old convenience store, its entrance partially blocked but he would still be able to get close.

He squeezed through the gap, the faint light illuminating the interior. Inside, Janson quickly searched for anything useful. He needed to find a way to defend himself if more Cranks came.

He rummaged through the wreckage, finding a sturdy crowbar. It felt solid in his hands. Just as he was about to exit, he heard a noise—a low growl echoing from outside.

The Cranks were close.

------------

Newt sat around the fire with his friends now. They told him everything—their struggles, their victories, and how they created Safe Haven. The warmth of the flames provided a comforting glow as they reminisced.

After the topic turned much more light-hearted, Thomas animatedly recounted a particularly close encounter with a Crank, gesturing wildly. "And I swear, I thought we were done for! But Minho—"

"Yeah, yeah," Minho waved him off. "I'm just trying not to get us all killed."

Across the fire, Brenda chimed in. "You all are lucky to survive that. I'd take a different route altogether."

"Yeah, but your routes usually involve explosions," Thomas teased, earning a playful glare from her.

"Explosions are effective," she shot back.

Frypan, who prepared food, looked up with a smirk. "Just don't ask her to cook anything."

"Hey!" Brenda protested. "I can cook!"

"Just not without a few fireworks," Frypan said, shaking his head.

Newt leaned back. "You all really did it, didn't you? Build something good."

"Yeah, we did," Thomas replied, a proud smile on his face. "It's not perfect, but it's ours."

"And it's pretty shucking cool," Minho added.

"It is," Newt admitted.

Conversation drifted from here and there as Newt tried his best to focus on his friends, yet his thoughts went to Thomas. Unsurprisingly.

The way Thomas recounted adventures made Newt's heart flutter. It was as if the firelight cast a halo around him, illuminating his face. Newt found himself captivated, his gaze lingering on Thomas's expressive hands as they gestured.

Thomas's laughter resonated with him long after it faded, how the intensity of their struggles drew them closer together. And now, with the weight of everything they faced, Newt felt an overwhelming urge to bridge the gap between them, to speak what had been left unspoken.

"Hey, Newt!" Brenda called, pulling him from his reverie. "You in there?"

"Yeah, sorry," he replied, forcing a smile. "Just...glad to be here."

But he wanted to say more. He wanted to reach across the fire and take Tommy's hand, to share the truth of what he felt, but the words felt stuck in his throat.

Newt stood up, unable to shake the restless energy in his chest. He needed a moment to breathe, to think. He muttered some excuse and slipped away, the sounds of his friends fading behind him as he navigated Safe Haven.

The garden was quiet. Newt wandered among the rows, trying to sort through his feelings. The chaos of everything—the Flare, the memories, and now this inexplicable time shift—was too much to process.

He leaned against a weathered fence, closing his eyes, letting the cool night air wash over him. But just as he began to feel a sense of calm, he heard footsteps approaching.

"Newt?" Thomas's voice cut through the quiet, and Newt turned to see him standing just a few feet away, concern etched across his features.

"I just need some air," Newt said, trying to sound casual.

"Mind if I join you?" Thomas asked, taking a step closer.

"Not at all," Newt replied, giving him a small smile.

They stood in silence for a moment. Finally, Thomas broke it, his voice soft. "I've missed you, you know."

"Did you?" he smiled at the thought, then felt guilty at it. Thomas and his friends had grieved him.

"Yeah..."Thomas took a deep breath, his expression shifting to something more serious. "I thought I'd lost you for good. When you... when I had to..." He paused, "I didn't realize how much I loved you until it was too late."

Newt's breath caught in his throat. "You love me?"

"Of course I do," Thomas said, "But I'm scared. I don't want to admit it, not when we're fighting for survival, and not when I thought you were gone forever."

Newt blinked, trying to process this revelation. "I thought... I thought I was the only one."

He looked dumbfounded. "What?"

Newt laughed quietly. "Since you were a Greenbean, Tommy."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

Thomas's eyes widened in surprise, and a soft laugh escaped his lips. "Seriously? I had no idea!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly vocal about it," Newt admitted. "I thought you'd never feel the same."

"I spent so much time worried about what would happen if I said anything," Thomas confessed, his gaze steady on Newt's. "But it sounds like we were both scared."

They stood in silence for a moment, taking in the quiet of the garden.

"We should get back, shouldn't we?" Thomas said, breaking the silence. Again.

"We probably should," Newt confirmed.

Despite this, they didn't move. Both of them waited. For something.

"Shuck it," Thomas muttered.

In an instant, the distance between them disappeared. Thomas leaned in, their lips brushing softly at first as if testing the waters. Newt's heart soared, and he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around Thomas's waist.

------------

Janson had to keep moving.

He shifted and listened for any sounds of danger. The low growls of Cranks echoed in the distance. He wasn’t safe yet.

“Focus,” he muttered to himself. He needed a plan. His mind raced back to the last moments he could remember—fighting the goddamn children. The last he remembered, he had been with Theresa. How did he end up here?

The growling grew louder. His instincts kicked in, and he crouched behind fallen debris. He held his breath as a Crank stumbled into view, eyes wild and unfocused. It was close—too close.

He gripped the crowbar tighter, waiting for the right moment. Then swung hard, connecting with a sickening thud. The Crank collapsed, but more sounds of them echoed.

He scrambled to his feet, pushing forward, a single thought guiding him: survive. He’d find a way to escape this hellhole, and then he’d find them.

They were out there somewhere, and he would search this city and every inch of the scorched earth until he found them.