#not for poor Iz though

[izzysillyhandsy]

I think the tragedy of Izzy is that he is the only character in the show who is severely punished for every transgression - and even the transgressions of others.

Ed gets a cannonball to the head, yes, but he is trying to get himself killed at that point. His atonement after he comes back is a few hours of banishment and a cat bell. The crew who openly plot to mutiny (and kill Stede) in S1 get art therapy.

Compare that to the mental and physical torture Izzy undergoes in S2 - and the lasting reminders of the violence done to him. There are lash marks on his back. His first severed toe doesn't magically heal, and his shot leg has to be amputated. Even his suicide attempt leaves a visible scar, while Ed comes away from a cannonball to the head without any lasting damage. In the end, Izzy (probably) dies from a combination of blood loss and an abdominal gunshot.

No other character in this show has any lasting effects from being - in some cases mortally - wounded like Izzy (apart from Lucius, but his finger is played more or less as comedy, and it's definitely not narrative punishment).

But Izzy doesn't only have to carry the consequences of his own actions. In the end, Izzy dies of a combination of the worst traits of the people he loves/aligns himself with.

Ed's projected self-hatred and perceived unloveableness costs Izzy half a leg. Yes, Izzy hurt him deeply and goaded Ed into becoming Blackbeard again. But Ed's extreme reaction and violence towards the person closest to him is all about Ed's issues.

Stede's careless recklessness (Things have a way of working out. At least for me.) and his casual disregard for the safety of others besides himself and Ed put Izzy in the path of a bullet. And yes, it wasn't Stede's fault. But it was Stede's "suicide mission" - planned without a thought for risk minimization and a blind trust in luck (or other people jumping in to save the day).

If I wanted to be really dramatic, I'd say Izzy died for Ed's and Stede's sins. And in the end, he even takes all of Ed's faults onto himself - thereby absolving him.

Maybe the Jesus Christ Superstar thing wasn't as clear-cut as we thought. We even get the classic pietà pose of a crying Ed holding his dead Izzy in the end.

(Which would make Ed a mother figure to Izzy. I think I'll better stop here.)

#ofmd #izzy hands #ofmd meta #Izzy has his faults #Ed has his faults #Stede has his faults #but Izzy suffers exponentially more than those two #also his suffering leaves scars - and finally leads to his death #I really cannot see how on earth Izzy deserved this #this is a comedy - sure #not for poor Iz though

[iznsfw]

Reputation, Or Whatever That Is

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut

7,063 words

Categories | daddy kink, brat!Wonyoung, squirting, blowjob, please appreciate Wonyoung's power bottom capabilities

Sorry, Yena is coming out sometime but I wanted to finally write something timely. JANG WONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCKKKKK.

Please bear with the religious metaphors, I have Catholic guilt and Wonyoung reignites it. I'm not sorry for all the other fucked up shit here I'm just ooga boogaing because what the FUCK

It’s a little brighter today than usual. The sun surely knows what's about to happen upon its rising. It has no plans of telling you beforehand, so you’re forced to find out yourself. 

You open Instagram, which is insane because you never bother to look at pictures—much less edited, filtered ones made for meaningless impressions. Your blissful ignorance of online concepts is what would make your fans hate you if they had space in their deluded hearts to. Or maybe that’s your age talking.

But today, clicking on that app is what you do, and that already should have been a sign that something’s not right. The usual run of your universe has gone off course. Who could have made that so?

Coffee. The black stillness that’s pure of sweetness and sugar. That’s supposed to keep everything normal. You sip on it as you scroll through clickbait, fan accounts, edits—

Then you wish you never took that hot gulp at all.

Wonyoung. 

It’s all because of her. 

She stands there from behind your screen, silky hair tangled in those lithe long fingers. She’s looking at the camera like she wants whoever took the time to click on her profile to come over and fuck her right now. Man or woman, poor or rich—it doesn’t matter. What ought to matter though is the fact that she doesn’t have someone’s hands slipped around her waist and pulling her close.

You shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

Usually, she’s dressed in knitted pink coats and miniskirts; looking fashionable but modest, modest but unplain. That’s what everyone loves about Jang Wonyoung: she’s prim, sweet, and the daughter of the nation. 

Now, she’s the ideal girl to take right home and have your wicked way with. Yes, you’d feel guilty since she’s so young, just the little age of nineteen. Still, that doesn’t mean you’d have any regrets. She’s the kind of girl you can’t get away from. You’ll always come back for more.

You’d hate to be so upfront, but there’s no other way to interpret it. 

There’s that fucking denim bra hugging her tiny chest, stitched up so high that her abs are on full display. That little pinch of a waist curves so perfectly right up to her wide hips that invite and invite and invite—

Remember to exhale.

So, yeah. That’s how Wonyoung ruined your day, and you barely had your morning coffee.

A text message from your boss appears. You nearly miss it because of how you’re staring all ogle-eyed at the tempting girl on your screen. Before you even click it, you already know what you ought to do. 

hey, it reads, you need to—

-

—go to Wonyoung, and for such a scandalous photo, she’s chosen a remote but classy hotel only the biggest stars know of to shoot it. 

There’s no going back when you drive like you’re running from the law when you’ll break one if you pull the wrong stunt with her. Your throat’s coiled with an unreleased breath that won’t go away unless you see her. It’s like traveling with the promise of meeting a goddess, and although you’re not religious anymore, you wear very, very close to rediscovering faith.

The hotel is grand—clear marble floors and shining chandeliers—and it’s no surprise. Wonyoung wouldn’t have things any other way. You know that when she’s come to your office to complain about her outfits and brands. 

You go up to the desk with prepared evidence for what you’re going to say. “I’m an associate of your client miss Jang Wonyoung,” you say to the lady tapping away behind her computer, “and I’ve come to visit her.”

Associate? It’s more like mentor. You’re a veteran idol whose efforts inspire the rookies, therefore getting you the responsibility of looking out for Wonyoung. So, father figure, maybe? You wince at that.

She makes a polite sad look, still not removing her eyes from the screen. “I’m sorry, miss Jang doesn’t have—”

Slide your ID card on the counter.

She glances at it, stiffens, then looks up at you. There’s only one of you in the entire South Korea, and although the 1x1 traces back to when you were a bit more youthful, it’s not hard to put two and two together. 

She apologizes quickly and offers you an elevator ride exclusive for VVIPs. Smile. It’s been a while since your last return to music, but everyone knows you here. Everyone knows your power.

Wonyoung’s place is the first room on the twelfth floor, a flinching irony.

Knock. You rap your knuckles three times for good luck and charm, because you’ll need it with her. Jang Wonyoung is everything save an easy girl. You remember the many times she refused to give up a debate on how she’s managed, how she’s styled, how she’s treated. She wants things to go her way only.

“Wonyoung,” you call out. Fidget with the handle of the door that refuses to budge. “It’s me.”

Knock a little more. There’s no eye behind the peekhole or a soft “come in.” You receive only the unlocking of the furnished knob and a welcome that makes you wish this could go the way your morals would want it to go.

The door opens you to a gorgeous suite that’s the supreme of all room tiers. This is the kind that only the richest of the rich are able to attain. Big as a house with a soft carpeted ground, there’s a queen-sized bed before a wide window of the city. Picture frames commissioned by the wealthy hang from the painted walls. All for the fucking aesthetic.

Even you, a star who paved the way for the Korean entertainment industry itself, aren’t used to this type of wealth. 

Find her sitting on the ledge of the window frame. Wonyoung has her hands resting on the sides of the window frame. She doesn’t try at least a stance at nonchalance—no admiring stare at the beautiful view, no worried gaze at her clean fingernails. Her interest is you standing before her like you’re afraid to touch her. She might be right, but it’s not like you’d ever have it in you to admit that.

Even you, a man lusted over by girls and women all over the world, aren’t used to this kind of woman—the kind that eats away at you.

“Wonyoung.” Inside, you feel like the weakest man in the world.

She has this smarmy, confident smile on her perfect lips that tells you that it’s no surprise that you’ve come all the way here for her. No surprise at all. She expected it. Anticipated it, if you will.

Don’t mistake the coquettish float of her lashes for theatrics. No, Jang Wonyoung’s just naturally someone you’d want to fuck, no matter the politics of it. “Yes?”

Her voice is also just that pretty. That’s a large part of why it’s so hard to act professional in front of her when she’s your mentee. Even more so by the fact you’re someone she’s looked up to for the majority of her trainee years, which is already something that would make people’s brows lift.

“Wonyoung.” You let your shoulders rest. “Why are you still dressed like that?”

You know all the dialogue that passes around the general public. Oh, Jang Wonyoung’s so gorgeous! Jang Wonyoung’s even more beautiful in real life! You hate to say you can’t disagree. She’s deadlier in person; her body’s there before the glass like she’s waiting for someone to give in to temptation. That coy simper can ruin careers. It can ruin yours. 

To think it all could be gone because of a nineteen-year-old celebrity with a tiny waist and legs you’d love to have around your head.

“Why are you still dressed like someone from the eighties?” Wonyoung taps her chin, then grins. She’s figured it all out. “Oh wait, you are.”

You’re not taking insults from someone who’s below you in experienced years and power. Unluckily, she’s not taking advice from someone above her or below her.

The step you take towards her, towards the little star seated comfortably waiting for you, feels like a sin. 

“You’re incredibly unprofessional for a girl who’s worked her way up here,” you note. Cross your arms and give her a reprimanding look. 

Wonyoung’s immune to nasty looks, too. She’s been doing this since she was a child. If someone gave her a glare that read all too well of a career assassination, she’d wink the bullet away sweetly. “Hm,” she says contemplatively, “I don’t think you get to say that, honestly.”

Your laugh is blunt and sarcastic. Unbelievable. Wonyoung’s the kindest girl according to the people who work for her, so why is she a rebel in your hands? It doesn’t make sense.

“Look here, we—”

You take three steps closer to her. You’ll keep your little rituals and superstitions to keep yourself grounded. Without them, you’d go insane. 

Then without her having to do anything, she comes nearer, like a doomsday foretold by a ticking clock. Who knows? That clock could be a bomb, and that bomb would set off if you dare to touch her with a trembling fingertip. You’d leave the scene injured. And eventually, you’d die the moment they try to help you, because the deed’s been done.

“Oh, I’m looking, alright,” she chirps. She’s doing what you’ve held yourself back from doing: letting her eyes wander. “And I really, really like what I see.”

You’re someone several awards her senior, and you’re still quite intimidated by her at this moment. She’s so sweet yet so honest—she won’t make up a lie to make you feel better and she won’t hide the truth to make you comfortable. Refuse the truth her eyes locked on your crotch tell. You won’t accept it. It’s not right.

“I’m serious.” Approaching her makes you want to go on your knees and beg the lord for a little saving. Do it anyway. No one will rescue you. That’s what the industry taught you. “You’ve made it all the way up here. All by yourself. There’s gotta be something. What are you throwing it all away for?”

She laughs. Funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m not. How am I throwing it all away?” 

“Those posts,” you hiss. Doesn’t she get it?

Before she could ask you what you’re talking about, you whip out your phone. Click on the app icon. It instantly shows you the opened tab containing Wonyoung’s recent Instagram posts. Look at her, wrapped in nothing, not even those curtains—giving the camera bedroom eyes when girls her age shouldn’t be shooting them at anyone or be aware of how to. 

It’s already massed a million likes in under an hour. But you know what people who turn on anyone easily will say, and what they say could blot Wonyoung’s bright future by a lot. A million people around the world have caught sight of the abs she’s worked hard for, her toned back, and just about everything. A loud minority with frisky influences can sabotage her whole reputation.

“These posts,” you continue, shoving the screen into the poor girl’s face, “can take away everything you’ve worked for. All that fame, all that money, you can’t brag about them after this.”

Wonyoung looks on innocently. She stares at the screen with uninterested eyes, then switches them back on you. She looks like such a good girl in that second, with her hands seated beside her and that face so full of sparkling perfection. 

Deception can’t lead you away. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, Wonyoung?” 

Long silence that builds up your frustration. Finally, she clicks her tongue. Gives you a shrug of her thin shoulders.

“You liked it.”

“What?”

She points to your phone. “You liked my post,” she repeats. “It says so right there.”

What the hell is she talking about?

You look at the device you’re brandishing. For a while, you can’t find out what she’s referring to. You can never take a liking to her posts, although if they switch on something you didn’t know you can feel. You’d die before—

The heart. 

Wait.

The heart button below her set of pictures is filled with red.

Your heart pumps faster, a button pushed and played.

Fuck.

You turn to her and open your mouth. No sensible words come out. You swear you didn’t tap twice on her update or take it to a private setting. How did it happen? Worse, even if you say that to her, she’d take it as a pathetic lie.

Wonyoung giggles. It’s a tinkly sound that’s adorable, but you’ve long realized that being cute is not all there is to her. She rises slowly, sets her palms over your blazer-clad arms, and gives you an empathetic face. It’s so condescending that you want to dissolve. 

“I know what men like you are all about,” she tells you. She speaks with a sultriness that makes you feel warm and has bumps appearing in masses across your skin.

She smiles. Her eyes disappear into crescent moons and the dimple appears on her cheek. You’re done for. 

“Come on,” Wonyoung continues, squeezing your forearms. “Here you are, a big old man known for being a good singer or whatever. You’re so popular that the first thing that pops up on Naver is your face. Everything goes right for you, doesn’t it?”

You have no idea where she’s going with this. You’re afraid to even ask. Your teeth grit as her massages grow stronger, harder. 

Something else is, too.

“Then, of course, you see me.” 

Her hand. It’s curling around your wrist and bringing your fingers right around that flawless waist. She closes them there tightly.

It’s so bad that it’s good. You want to keep touching her, maybe slip your gliding fingers down her jeans. Oh, you shouldn’t. You can’t.

“You see me, and you get all hot and bothered. And what’s so funny is I’m not even doing anything. I’m just being myself, you know. Being young and rich… a beautiful girl…” Wonyoung is unbuttoning your shirt and you don’t realize it. “You can’t understand how I’m allowed to be this hot when you can’t even fuck me with a normal conscience.”

It’s all so wrong. You want to shake her by the shoulders and tell her to shut up. But if Medusa has her eyes, Wonyoung has her lips to turn you to stone. They keep opening elegantly to speak the filthiest, most fucked up shit, and you can’t deny anything.

Her eyes are creased with knowing pride. Her youth doesn’t rescue her from being so messed in the head already. Those thoughts don’t go along with such a pretty face.

“That’s why you like to get rough with me. You tell me to watch how I speak, watch how I act. You tell me to stop talking to you like you’re no one. You tell me that I’m such a little brat. But you only do that so you can get to control me. That’s your most fucked up dream, right?”

Her mouth is the tiniest space away from your chin. 

You’re another word away from saving yourself a spot in damnation.

Her finger that scratches a flaw on your blazer beckons you to the fire. “You’re not breaking the law or anything,” says Wonyoung, “so why not break me instead, daddy?”

That’s a deal sealed with a rough kiss.

You grab her cruelly and cover her lips with yours. They’re more amazing than you imagined, soft and competent with how she pushes in deeper, depriving herself of the air she needs the most just to get what she needs just a bit more:

You. 

Your tongues collide and clash, striving to get the most taste. She pulls your blazer off (because fuck professionalism, right?) while she kisses you with a hunger that’s equally mental and physical. It’s not like she’d bruise up if you didn’t get your hands on her yet it’s close to that. 

And, in your case, it’s not like you’re breaking any law. She’s nineteen, not anywhere under the limits you’d kill others and yourself for touching. Nonetheless, you’re much older—by age, she could be your daughter; by career, she’s your junior; by power, you’re much stronger. 

So, it’s still so wrong.

Can’t be when Wonyoung’s fist, firm around your cock, feels so right. 

Can’t be when she lands on the edge of the bed with her lips parted in delight as she watches your dick stiffen under her service. 

“There you go, daddy,” she coos, smirking. “Just get all hard for me, then you can stuff that big thing up in my pussy.”

Her thumb toys with your cockhead. You purse your lips to hold back a groan. Let go of it anyway when her smooth, closed palm rubs your sensitive flesh. She cups your balls lovingly before gliding her teasing fingertips under your length, right up to your tip. The girl knows how to do this; she’s good at more things other than MCing and performing.

Wonyoung hones this skill with firmer pumps, giving you the handjob of a lifetime. Her long fingers are just made to handle dick. Each stroke is perfection that holds and pulls and slides. You’re leaking so much already. 

So you turn into the driver of the hate train, the press that loves getting her bad angles and the articles that slash up her name:

Blame it all on her. 

Because you have here a girl, young and pretty and confident, so of course you have to scrape off your sins and nail them all on her, like a quivering hand to wood.

“You think you’re getting it that easily?” you say. Your moan is squeezed in your throat. “Baby, you’re not even close to it.”

Wonyoung smirks. It’s that self-assured, elegant smile that tells you that won’t work on her. She might be a rookie, but she knows how to play the game. 

She tightens her grip painfully. That’s what you get for trying to one her up. Do that to anyone, just not Jang Wonyoung. Your cry goes unheard as she yanks you rather than jerks you off. Spits on your head for good measure. Wonyoung’s eyes make a connection with your soul and says, Yep, that’s what I’d do if you weren’t my senior. In fact, I’d do it regardless. I’d choke and spit and leave you to die, because a pretty Samaritan is better than a good one.

“You’re really out of touch, daddy.” 

With Wonyoung slathering her drool all over you, you’re forced to teeter on the line between heaven and hell. It burns yet the offer of pleasure leaves you sated.

“You think I’m like the pretty girls out there? Other girls might have broken down and begged you to come back.” 

Your rod is subjected to a brief torrid kiss, then a smile as the wicked girl looks up at you.

She laughs, gives you this smile full of haught and womanly power. “Too bad I’m Jang Wonyoung,” she says, her last words before taking you in.

Yes, it’s too bad she’s Jang Wonyoung. It’s too bad she’s not the other girls who’d kneel for a burning touch of stars like you. She wouldn’t be holding control over you with the power of her lips if she had sanity in that pretty head.

Her plump tiers wrap around you and seize everything, encasing it in softness and wetness. Her tongue, the one she uses as a killer expression for her selfies and Instagram updates, kills you all the same with how it swirls around your skin and tastes you. Trying to pretend the girl wasn’t a pro at this like she is with everything else is useless. She’ll keep proving you wrong and overpowering you.

The whole of your shaft is sucked in, then, when her cute nose is pressed directly to your stomach, she lets out a hummed laugh. You shudder—as much as it makes you feel good, fear grips your muscles and makes them limp. She’s loving how wrong everything is, and you’re not sure if you like it.

Her jaw slacks, and then Wonyoung’s swallowing you like you’re water. Can’t be water when you’re this solid in her throat. You let out a shivering groan. You can picture the bulge in Wonyoung’s neck and it’s the last thing you’d count on turning you on, but they did tell you to expect the unexpected. 

Her saliva becomes excessive, resulting in some dribbles down her chin that help her work her mouth on you. Wonyoung’s drool sheens you entirely and she keeps adding more. On the occasion she pushes her face into your stomach, your cock gets wetter. She does, too. 

“Fuck.” Cussing won’t help deter the onslaught of pleasure. You’re unsalvageable. Say it anyway. You babble meaningless, slurred words and not one gets to Wonyoung. All she can hear is the sound of your quivering moans and her mouth taking you all in.

She becomes less of an idol, less of the elegant princess for the cameras, and instead a fleshlight. However, she reminds you that it isn’t that way with a fierce sneer that stays on at all times. She’s not your girl—she’s Jang Wonyoung, and you’re already incredibly lucky that she chose to go down on you.

All that beautiful hair isn’t of any purpose if you don’t get to touch it, to gather it in a ponytail, to pull on it. Your fingers creep into her brown locks not only to give it a little meaning but also for sanity. 

That isn’t a thing in Wonyoung’s world. She pulls your hand off and slaps it on your side. “No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Daddy can’t touch me, not when he’s pretending that he’s hot shit.”

Her nails bury themselves in your hips. Oh, the manicured talons of a gorgeous monster. Oh, the pain that runs through your sides. Should you run before she devours you? Too late for that.

“Wonyoung,” you breathe, and then ask, genuinely: “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She’s so proper and serene on her shows that not even her most desperate fan would think she’s a terror. They don’t know she’s a girl who likes older, weaker men who’d ruin her if she hasn’t the pretty face and attractively black heart to do them the favor instead. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

You’d respond if you knew the answer.

Wonyoung rubs her thumb under your dick, sending little sparks aflying. “Why’d you kiss me earlier?” Her lipstick decorates it as a kinder girl would to your face. “Why didn’t you grab my hair and tell me to be a good girl? Why didn’t you leave? It’s not my fault you want to fuck me.”

All these words of destruction and your cock remains standing. It’s a staunch reminder to her that you can say whatever you want and the hard evidence remains. You want to fuck Wonyoung. You want to do it to a rookie who’d turn the story around on you if it ever came out. You want to fuck her so bad it’s borderline pitiable.

“I’m just giving you what you want, daddy.” Her fingers caress your sides. “Trust me, I could be a very good girl if I wanted to.”

You almost didn’t believe that until Wonyoung started to suck you off again. 

Her lips stroke you effortlessly as if this were her pastime. That’s your most accurate guess, because this seamless performance—the one of her mouth working on you with the impression that this whole thing is nothing to her—can’t be a natural gift. The combination of dripping saliva and her soft lips is lethal.

It’s unbelievable how she manages to find all your tender spots. She preys on them, licking and licking until you’re very sure you were going to blow all over her. But you can’t give her that satisfaction. 

You’re very close to doing so though. She’s perfectly sloppy and rough. You glare at her when she lightly teases her teeth on your girth. She winks at you in response. She leaves you breathless in so many ways. 

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, god—” you whine. It’s so hard to adapt to the girl sitting there with that innocent face and wild mouth that doesn’t dare give up on you. 

Her expressions on camera are always poised. Off camera, there’s this one she flashes you as she shoves her face into your stomach that looks downright evil. Although she’s already fucking you with her throat, Wonyoung partners it with strong suction that’s sure to drain you. 

“Yes, daddy?” She doesn’t pant when she goes up for air, replacing her sucking with her long fingers. 

“I’m really close,” you admit. It’s obvious from your shaking legs. 

Sounds of returned wet suction start to increase. Criticism and compliments prod Wonyoung on. How else would she improve in her idol life? In blowing you? In devouring you?

You realize you’re fitting the cliché. There’s you, an idol whose name is uttered on the daily by both young and old fans, igniting a scandal in the making by fucking a girl beneath you in everything. There’s this expensive suite where stars go for a little precious privacy to do what they want. There’s the two of you doing exactly what you desire: fucking each other. There’s the classic maneater trope with how it’s more like Wonyoung fucking you—she fucks you with her face, fucks you in the head, fucks with your righteousness. Well, fuck.

Wonyoung drools so much that you’re invited to a sea the moment your head pushes past her tongue again. It’s slicker, sloppier, and so much sexier because she’s so completely devoted to your cock. Her hypnotizing eyes trap you and so does her body, tight and tiny—that tummy is flatter than a board and only thin panties hide what her long legs lead to from the bottom.

The only time she stops sucking you is when she darts her tongue side to side with an unhinged pace on your sensitive tip. “Good. Cum in my throat.”

“Shit, god, I can’t—”

Wonyoung attacks you again, and there, in her warm orifice, your plentiful orgasm spends itself. Her throat welcomes you tightly every time. Her hot restricted breaths fan your groin and evokes more semen that spills with no care. 

Your hands ball into fists. Although you’re hot and shaking, you can’t touch her. Why are you following her rules when it should be the other way around? It’s a reversal of roles, a Stockholm’s Syndrome of some sorts whose victim is your cock never wanting to leave from the predatory embrace of Wonyoung’s puckered kiss.

Of course, after she gathers all of your cum in the pool of her mouth, she swallows.

She really could be a good girl.

“Awh.” Wonyoung pouts mockingly. “Daddy, are you crying?”

Touch your face. To your horror, she’s right. The electricity and shock of her continuous blowjob results in a few tears on your cheeks. You haven’t done that in years. Wonyoung is the first one to make you cry like this.

You flush. What more to hide your weakness than anger? “Wonyoung,” you start, then you realize you don’t know what to say, “I—you—”

She smiles. You aren’t going anywhere.

She shoves you to the bed. You’ve reached rock bottom in spite of the softness of the quality pillows. You’ll scrape your way out if not for Wonyoung finishing the job by keeping you there assisted by her legs. They close around you with not even a courtesy false promise of an escape. No negotiation, no coaxes. 

Wonyoung is sitting on your crotch but not on your dick, which is a problem. Which is a solution. Her hands are pinned to your chest while you try not to meet her eyes. It’s a losing game when your runaway glances are met by her grinding hips, silky thighs, and the hard, flexing abs of a perfection of a midriff. 

Her fingers tug on the waistband of her panties before slowly slipping them off. Her pink pussy clear of blemish or hair comes in contact with your length. Up and down she goes, her dancing hips always seeking for more friction. You understand their need because you share the same—Wonyoung’s splayed lips on your member feel heavenly. It’s kind of disappointing that she might as well have climbed her way out of hell.

If she did, she’s the prettiest little devil you’ve ever seen.

“Ohhh, don’t you get it?” Wonyoung asks. She moves so smoothly, you nearly forget she’s humping you rather than dancing. Her soft moan brings you back. It’s the first time you’ve heard it, and you’re melting; it sounds so seductive and innocent in the same breath.

You know her. She knows you. So it’s clear: Jang Wonyoung can be anything—supermodel, actress, dancer—but she cannot ever be innocent. 

Her gorgeous voice is silky when it twists into moans and gasps. Looking down at your crotches meeting and swaying is a better show than end-of-the-year performances. The blowjob and commanding you around must have turned her on by a lot—her flesh is hot and wanton with juices as it slides up and down you.

“You’re not going anywhere, daddy!” Wonyoung giggles. She kisses your nose, then your chest until her lipstick marks you. You burn up with feverish lust after each peck. “Daddy is only Wonyoung’s. And I knew your perfect cock would be mine when I posted those pics. I know men like daddy would do anything for me.”

“Wonyoung.” Breathe again, because you’ll need to after this, so why not do it now? “Why are you doing this?”

You thought her flirtatiousness in your office was just her coyness coming out to play. She’d rest her chin on your desk, suck a red lollipop on some days, maybe run her fingertips over your knuckles. Day in and out, she plays the same game. You didn’t know it would reach this level.

“Because I want to mess you up, daddy,” Wonyoung says. Her tongue swipes at the cavern of your mouth right until she nibbles at your lower lip. Her lipstick peppers your face. “I want to fuck my daddy up so bad he’ll never go a day without thinking of me.”

Swallow. The friction of your sexes is driving you crazy and close to the edge. All the same, you don’t want to make a fool of yourself cumming early for Wonyoung. 

What happened to your dynamics? Your relationship? There wasn’t a romantic one, but it was always you holding the reins professionally and her just being an insistent passenger. Now she’s wrapping that rein around your neck and claiming you for her own. Looks like you have control everywhere excluding the bed.

“That’s it?” you ask. Shut your eyes—just seeing her grind on you with her utterly wet cunt can make you bust. “Your career doesn’t matter to you?”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Wonyoung lifts herself up and flashes that wicked smile again. “But I want to feel this in me before you wimp out.”

You and Wonyoung fall down a bottomless hole of consequence and wrongs but Wonyoung makes sure to bottom out the first time she sits on your dick. She engulfs you whole and traps you there with her soaked, grippy walls that slide all the way down. 

You’d say her pussy has a vise grip, holding onto you like all goes wrong if it didn’t, except you think it has the grip of a vice. Need for her juices that coat you replaces the need for alcohol. Even if you get out of this suite alive, (which is a low possibility), you can see yourself always coming back for more. You could be addicted to anything—smoking, eating, cheating—but it just so happened your vice is Wonyoung.

“Daddy!” she yelps, and from there you can’t count the times she slams her cute butt down your thighs. “Oh my god, daddy!”

Her dainty, cute yells make you throb inside her. Perhaps it’s the kittenish quality of it that turns you on so much. She sounds so appealing, so fucking ruinable that it’s surprising to see that she’s doing the ruining here. Her expression in bed is more animated than the ones she makes onstage—her nearly closed eyes look upwards while her mouth falls open. 

The squeeze of her tight, wet cunt renders your knees weak. It’s a good thing you’re lying down. Wonyoung makes sure you stay that way by penetrating herself with you over and over again. Her being barely a weight on you doesn’t stop you from lying there uselessly. You know better by now not to challenge her, not when each time you enter her vagina is better than the last. Her pussy is slippery and tight, proving to be the smallest and the best fit for your shaft simultaneously. Her hole is too tight and too good. 

“Is this all for me, daddy? Huh?” Wonyoung circles her hips, making you moan, then continues her up-and-down movements. “You’re so hard, you naughty daddy. I know you got a b-boner when you looked at my posts. Now I’m giving you another one.”

You always thought of Wonyoung as justifiably confident yet arrogant. She told you once at your desk that she doesn’t deserve a stylist who only has a four-star rating. She lamented about the lack of competence of her staff preparing her comeback stage. All those you turned down to give the topics of her complaints the benefit of the doubt, but you know she’s right. She doesn’t deserve less when she’s better than the best. She doesn’t deserve less when she knows her place: a royal throne. So you can’t deny that she’s too hot to handle, undiscriminating to you whose connections always have impossibly beautiful women somewhere in there.

She’s so hot that her small breasts bouncing from behind that denim bra and tube top looks appealing. She’s so hot that the heat between her legs grows wetter. She’s so hot that when her soft ass crashes down on you again, you don’t find it a repetitive bore. 

She’s so hot that you’d let the slim, tall girl use you until dusk turns to dawn, even if the curtains behind her are drawn apart and the secret cameras get to snap a photo.

“Shit, Wonyoung,” you say, your core squeezing. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“I bet you’ve thought about this, daddy. You thought that one night, I’ll be so bad that you could book us a whole hotel and fuck me in all the rooms, just like this one. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“You wanted to open my legs and use my little pussy all day long, huh? Until I’m yours to throw around and do whatever?”

“Y-yes.” Nod. Your face twists—she shouldn’t speak when she’s fucking you because all the filth she says makes you want to blow inside her already. It’s the kind of truth that arouses rather than hurts.

Wonyoung’s riding switches to a rapid intensity that makes you yell. She lets you in so deep to the point that her butt cheeks touch your heavy balls. She’ll drain them for sure; the pace she sets is terrifyingly quick. It seems that she becomes tighter after each bounce, and it’s not helping you hold out at all.

Watch the wildness in Wonyoung’s eyes become animalistic. It makes you all the more certain now of one solid fact: there is something seriously wrong with Jang Wonyoung.

She smirks. “Well, you got it wrong. I’m not all yours, daddy.” She leans down, resting her palms on your shoulders. “You are all mine.”

Her hands might as well be a chained collar waiting to close around your neck. Her devilish simper is supposed to scare you, not turn you on. Somehow, it does both. 

She flicks back her hair as she sits up again. Through it all, her riding doesn’t stop. “This cock?” she asks before slamming her pussy down it with a different kind of ferociousness. Cry out but she shuts you up with a furious kiss. “It’s gonna be my dirty secret. I’ll always go to daddy after my schedules so I can make him cum—over and over again.”

To think that a young girl like her has you at her beck and call is laughable, but there’s no laughing now. As you stare at Wonyoung’s fluid body and her hair bouncing beautifully, you realize she actually can have you for herself. It only took one Instagram post to lure you to her. She sees you’re falling deeper and deeper for her.

She didn’t exactly tell you how to escape.

“You gonna cum, daddy? Is my perfect pussy milking you?” 

You can do nothing except nod.

“Of course, I can feel you throbbing, i-it’s making me lose it,” gasps Wonyoung. Her whines are making you lose it yourself. “Let’s cum together, okay? You can only cum when you feel Wonyoung squirt all over your massive cock.”

She squeezes tighter on top of you when she reaches down to rub her clit. She’s in search of any kind of stimulation: the slap of her ass on your thighs, the upward shoves of your erection, the pulse of her clit. Her moans increase in their whiny girlishness. Their tender vulnerability makes you think she should be the one underneath your body though you’re aware that’s never going to happen. Wonyoung belongs on top, just the same with her name in first place in the list of brand reputation rankings, browser searches, followers.

Once upon a time, you took charge over her. You managed her lessons, her videos, her behind-the-scenes duties. Funny how it’s the opposite now, wherein she jounces on you freely with the domineering message of caution: don’t cum until she does.

And god, is she making that hard. Everything about her is so attractive, from the bounce of her hair to her midriff showing your entering cock to her pretty pink pussy clutching you. What gets you, however, is her face—everyone loves looking at that face. Today, you’re under an aphrodisiac for it: you’re in love with the roll of her eyes as she rides you, the pink on her cheeks, the part of her lips. 

“Fuck yes! Ugh, daddy, you feel so good inside me…” Wonyoung’s core clenches and slides your penis along its textured, sensitive walls. Her gasp is straight out of fantasies. “You’re balls deep, see? Look how your meat’s filling me. My pussy’s going to be so sore after this.” She chuckles. “Wait, who says we’re stopping?”

You shudder. You’re getting very close. Your earlier orgasm still has its effects on you. You’re afraid you’re going to do something you shouldn’t under her bedroom law. She’ll imprison you with her thighs and waterboard you with all the girl cum she promised until you confess that she’s the best fuck you ever had. 

“Daddy’s going to cum so hard he’s probably going to breed me. Then I’ll, oh, I’ll feel it inside my tummy and it’s going to be a scandal. Wouldn’t you like that? Getting to knock up Jang Wonyoung? I can hear you moaning. I think you really like that. I think that’s why you’re thrusting up in me. You want to be a real daddy and make your baby girl a mommy. That’s so fucked up, you know that, right? You shouldn’t be having sex with me, let alone breeding me. But you’re a fucking weak old man, so of course you like that.”

You’re burning up. They’re the signs of what’s to come. If her confident words inspire her young fans, her monologues of lust make you feel like you’re the worst person in the world. Of course, the boner is part of the effect. 

You groan. “Wonyoung, baby girl, please—”

“Oh god, daddy, I’m going to cum!” she squeals. Her emotions control her and tell her to go harder, bounce harder, squeeze harder. She’s pushing past her limits. “Agh, agh, you’re cumming, too, right? Cum for me. You’ll be—fuck, my daddy’s going to make me cum! I’m squirting all over his cock!”

She slams herself down roughly and repeatedly till your lower body’s flooded with her cum. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like dying because you swear you can see stars in the ceiling, stars of lust in her eyes. La petite mort. How poetic, since Wonyoung’s screaming still sounds as beautiful as her singing and speaking. 

Her shouts are close to breaking the windows’ glass. Anyone can figure out what’s happening without the destruction of the pane—the curtains are wide open, letting the world see the youngest icon of the new generation pumping herself onto her co-worker. 

You wonder if there’s actually poor watchers out there seeing you cream Wonyoung’s princess pussy, grab her ass to guide her, and kiss her when she leans down.

Wonyoung tastes the best when she’s squirting.

-

Consequences always catch up no matter what. You can hide under a cloak, in another country, underneath the earth in a secluded bunker and all that won’t help. You’ll be stuck dealing with the outcome, thorns from a rose you thought was too pretty to have some. 

That’s the first thing you remember when you wake up, wrapped in the bed sheets and by Wonyoung’s arms. Someone’s calling you. Bad news: it’s your boss—the ringtone itself sounds angry, too. 

“Hello?” you ask. You can’t help the grogginess of your morning voice, try as you may. If your boss didn’t know what happened, he can perfectly guess from the exhaustion riddling your greeting. 

“You dumb little shit.” You can feel the spittle of your boss’ insult from miles away, cities away, screens away. “You’re lucky I’m friends with the fucking CEO.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t give me that. Some janitor saw you from the wing. I needed to hear it from you: did you fuck Jang Wonyoung?”

Unexpectedly, a veiny hand you remember holding something else grabs your phone. Wonyoung leans against your shoulder wearing nothing as she holds the phone to her ear.

“Why?” she quips, loud and clear. “Wouldn’t you?”

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #izone smut #ive smut #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung smut #izone wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #female idol x reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #pov smut #kofimission #commission #iz days of christmas #iz days of christmas day 12 #iz days of christmas 2023

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing : miles morales x reader

↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)

↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)

MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.

After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.

"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.

"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"

You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."

The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.

However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.

"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."

Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"

Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"

Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.

Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.

"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.

"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.

At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.

The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.

You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.

"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"

The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.

"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"

The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.

That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.

"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.

You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.

You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales x you

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello! Just finished Die Happy, and oh my gosh what a wholesome and sad time!! I love the way you portray Sanji and his inner monologue with himself.

Would it be possible to get a continuation where reader ends up making it a habit of sleeping with Sanji now that’s she’s had a taste. They kind of make a nightly routine and no one really questions it because they just like seeing everyone happy. How would Sanji feel realizing that it’s been weeks since you first started sleeping with him? What if reader is trying to tell Sanji they actually really like him but he just thinks reader is to perfect for him so he’s kind of blind to her advances.

Thank you so much and I hope you have fun writing!!!

All ye who yearned (@federalclassroom @sparkyrosewood14 @zzbloody-animezz @clonaa @number-0-iz) come get y'all juice:

Maelstrom - Sanji x Reader

Part 2 to "Die Happy"

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.2k

One night turned into two, two turned into a week and a week turned into... well, however long you and Sanji have been sleeping in one bed. He's not keen on keeping track but taking in the moment instead. He doesn't ask why you continue to crawl right back into his bedroom every night. In fact, he doesn't dare make any comment about your new habit out of fear that you might think he's grown tired of it.

Every night he thinks it might be the last, so he forces himself to stay up as long as he can. Although having you sleep soundly against his chest makes his heart rejoice, the new and asinine sleeping schedule he has implemented puts his body into a poor state. Sanji expected someone to say something but he hasn't considered the whole picture and how it looks to the other Straw Hats - he sleeps in one bed with you every night and looks exhausted during the day. It gives... quite a boost to one's imagination. This is why no one so far has made any inquiry about the new sleeping arrangement.

Even if only opportunity made him the person you like to waste your spare time with, Sanji feels as though the universe itself has smiled at him. Some god above him saw his suffering and decided to ease his burden a little. In his mind, this is the most logical explanation.

But that's about to change.

He feels you stir against him. Unknowingly, Sanji freezes, afraid that it's his feathery touches that wake you up from slumber. He holds his fingertips right above your skin, uncertainty hanging in the air.

"You're not sleeping?" you murmur against his chest.

Gently, he sets his hand back on your arm. Your skin is burning his fingers but he welcomes the scorch like frosty cheeks welcome the scarce sunlight in winter months.

"Just thinking about something," he answers with faux disinterest, hoping that you won't inquire further.

To Sanji's horror, you lean away from him and prop your chin up on your head, staring at his face from above. A bright, curious glint shines in your eyes.

"Come on, shoot. What keeps you awake at night?"

Like a deer caught in headlights, he's silently panicking for a moment.

You. All of you. From the way you say "good morning" in a raspy voice to the "goodnight" you separate with a yawn. How I can tell exactly what's on your mind by the expression on your face. The little dances you do when you're having a good day. How adorable your scowl is. The way my chest hurts when I see you frowning.

Sanji gives you a reassuring smile and shakes his head slightly. "Nothing you should worry about, love," he dismissed you. A beautiful liar he is - nothing in his voice indicates the dread that resides inside him.

His heartbeat quickens suddenly when you give him a flash of a smile. In the twilight of a dark night, you look like a faerie, luring a poor, lovesick man to bestow his deepest, darkest secrets upon you.

And Sanji just might.

"Maybe I want to." You shrug your shoulders. With your other hand, you poke his chest playfully. "I'm fine with worrying if it's about you."

Sanji swallows thickly. You're in his bed, snuggled against him and openly admitting you care about him. If he doesn't change the course of the conversation soon, he might act upon his desire, confess feelings he's been unwilling to admit even to himself.

"As much as I appreciate that," he begins nervously, "there's enough in that pretty little head of yours. You just lean on me and I'll do the rest." Sanji forces himself to smile softly at you as he makes a point of leaning through putting his hand on his chest.

You chuckle and bite your lower lip. Sanji's mind tries to slip into his well-known fantasies of kissing you but he manages to keep his thoughts at the present moment.

"Spoken like a true gentleman." Hinging on your forearm, you lean closer to his face. "Maybe it's you I should marry."

He clenches his hand covered by the duvet. Having you so close to him was a daydream until you made it turn into somewhat of a nightmare. Sanji keeps telling himself that whatever happens, he can't let you in on his feelings, fearing that if you learn of his hopeless affliction, you will abandon his intimacy once and for all. And that Sanji doesn't even want to consider as a possibility.

"I thought you wanted to marry a prince," he says in an attempt to divert the conversation.

A scoff leaves your lips and you shake your head in disapproval.

"Fuck princes," you drone out. "I'm not a participation award you can put in your trophy case and show off. I'm more like wild, untamed waters. Like a maelstrom." Your voice hangs for a moment and Sanji holds on to it with more hope than he thought he's capable of. Maybe the universe really did take pity on him. Then, you lean even closer to him, leaving a rather obscene lack of space between your faces. "And you, my lovely Sanji, are a skilled sailor."

His heart stops for a moment.

"Don't do this," he whispers in a weak voice. "Don't give me hope for something I can never have. It's cruel."

"'Can never have?'" you repeat in confusion. "It's your bed I keep crawling back into despite telling myself to stop doing that. You already have me. All of me. I don't care how desperate that makes me look. I want you to have me."

Sanji tries to control his ragged breathing. His iron will is crumbling as he allows himself to look at your lips. Is he dreaming?

"You shouldn't say things you don't mean," he warns you in a distant voice. His mind is too occupied, too busy going haywire, to be rooted in reality. Will you taste as sweet as he imagined? Will you linger on his lips like the reviving kiss of a goddess given to a dying man?

"You shouldn't assume I'm someone who just runs their mouth," you answer.

His lips barely touch yours. There's too much fear in him - fear, that this isn't actually happening. That you're just a dream within a dream, that he imagined this moment to curb his desperation. But then he feels you kissing him back, your lips engulfing his as though you're silently begging him not to go anywhere and stay with you. Sanji can't help himself putting his hand on the nape of your neck and fixing the angle off the kiss to deepen it; to kiss you like princesses deserve to be kissed.

Maybe you are a maelstrom - raging waters twisting into deadly whirlpools. But he's definitely not a sailor. A shipmate would navigate dangerous tides, while Sanji seems to be drowning. The waters of you are filling his lungs and yet he feels like he's breathing for the very first time. He's slowly falling farther away from the light of reason. Soon, darkness engulfs him. But it's not cold. It's not lonely. It's the darkness of a warm, summer night.

And in this darkness, drowned in the untamed waters of a maelstrom, he hears a siren singing in your voice:

The madness of returned devotion.

#sanji imagine #sanji fanfiction #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji fanfiction #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece fanfiction #opla #one piece imagine #one piece fanfic #one piece x you #blackleg sanji #opla fanfiction #opla x reader #opla sanji #opla x you #opla fanfic #one piece live action

[rimouskis]

could you explain more about what you view as the before era and what you view as the after? i need to learn my herstory

I think this requires a more detailed and educated/researched answer than I can give after an exhausting workday and an after-hours work event, but I'm going to do my best and also open up the floor in reblogs for people to chip in their thoughts

foremost: a DISCLAIMER that this post does not aim to shit on writers from the "before" era. there are many classic fics that I love and enjoy, even if I consider their characterizations to be "less accurate"* than the ones we have in the after era.

*aside to say: accuracy is based only off of literal media accounts we have of these men; we do not know them, we should not claim to know them, and they have had different comfort levels with the media knowing selective truths about their lives [sid out of choice, geno out of media xenophobia] than they did when these early fics were being written.

"before" fics (which I tend to refer to as "classic" fics, and had their heyday in 2012-2013 but continued up until 2016ish) tended to have more regimented roles for sid and geno. sid was usually the protagonist; geno was the love interest.

this came with a cascading set of characteristics assigned to each guy. sid was poor-little-meow-meow'd. geno was the pursuer in the relationship. sid usually bottomed. sid had the whole spacetoaster moment (he was the inspiration for the term, haha). there wasn't much a/b/o fic but sid was, like, the omega-fied one and geno was alpha-ized.

something I've been thinking about more recently is how 2012-2013 era sidgeno displayed signs of Migratory Slash Fandom. I don't think of MSF as an inherently negative/condemning thing, but I think it's a phenomenon that deserves to be mentioned/analyzed, yeah?

MSF thrives on big character differences.... like, grumpy/sunshine, sarcastic/broody, genius/empath. it's all about emphasizing disparate archetypes to create natural tension in a story. this works really well in most romance novels! I love it!

the issues arise when people try to make characters fit into these preset dynamics. and, frankly, when sidgeno first got big, we straight-up didn't know as much about sid and geno. I mean that. despite sid being EXTENSIVELY covered by media from age, like, 14, he was really tight-lipped compared to what we have now.

and geno was.... there. I don't mean that as a diss—he was INCREDIBLE, but the media totally passed him over again and again. or they helped contribute to stereotypes of him being a dumb oaf who didn't know english.

aside: ironically I think that helped in creating sidgeno and not, like.... sidflower or sidtanger. geno was so "DIFFERENT" from sid (aka: russian, characterized by media as not knowing how to speak [in comparison to sid's highly curated media soundbites]) that it meant he was the best candidate for A Ship with sid.

a lot of the really big writers who got into sidgeno were fandom veterans with lots of experience in other big fandoms. to me, that means MSF had a hand in all this. and we should be grateful, because it led to the BOOM of hockey fic, and of sidgeno fic specifically. modern hrpf wouldn't exist without it.

that being said, those template ship dynamics, plus the media's attitude then towards sid and geno in its coverage, led to those characterizations of whiny soft sensitive boy sid who needed to be rescued even though he was the best hockey player EVER, and geno as the lumbering tall strong alpha not-that-bright Love Interest Man.

this isn't to say every fic was this way, or that this is BAD. I, uh, love poor-little-meow-meow-ing sid and omegafying the hell out of him. what I'm saying is that it was a near-ubiquitous characterization across the board.

that all changed in 2016-2018. I personally wholly credit sevenfists, though I imagine it's more nuanced than that, but: my blog, I make the rules here. I don't know if sevenfists was psychic or just highly observant and absolutely excellent at reading people (and that's basically the same thing, right?), but characterization shifts began taking place in fic....

and the coolest thing happened, in that those characterizations were seemingly reinforced by more media coverage. the back to back cups brought with them TONS of interviews with and media about the team, and sid and geno in particular. the coolest part of it was that sid had loosened up a LOT and geno had gotten more comfortable (and had gotten a reporter firmly on his side).

the interviews about sid post 2016 were just SO different. so much information started coming out, and a LOT of it conflicted with Ye Olde Characterizations. as it turned out, sid was deeply one of the boys. he was funny. everyone liked him. he loved hosting. he was insanely comfortable around almost everyone, including strangers, because he's a little freak who's kind to everyone. he can make smalltalk like no one's business. he's kind of gross. he likes to giggle and be in on jokes and get into the thick of it. he isn't some blushing virgin bride sold off of mario's doorstep, yeah?

and geno, too, was finally getting the coverage he deserved. and his personality was both fortified by age and better shown to us through media. as it turns out, he isn't some happy go lucky oaf. he's mercurial and intensely aware of what others think of him (and he CARES). he's sensitive and thoughtful but also can lash out at random times. he has a wicked sense of humor that he uses as a defense mechanism and as a surefire way to get people to like him, which matters to him. and, as everyone says, he is SMART.

if you had to boil it down, I'd say that post-2016, it became clear that SID is the confident one and GENO is the insecure one. and fic caught onto that with a miraculously fast pace. also: they're more alike than they are different, but I still think romance inherently feeds off of difference and tension, so we still exaggerate things to make the stories ✨WORK✨.

I'm not going to give examples of pre- and post- era fics, because I don't want to point any fingers and say someone was doing characterization "wrong." that's not the takeaway I want anyone to have here.

fandom attitudes have changed. it's been 10 years since that first wave of fics, and while I don't think that's very long, it's a hell of a long time on the internet, and in a niche internet community. what was once the standard for fics (and what was well-read, and what people gravitated towards) was different. not worse—different.

I think it's fair to say the "after" era of fics is more "accurate" to what we know of sid and geno. it's also fair to say that this is only the case because we have a WEALTH of information, character-revealing interviews and videos and anecdotes, that Ye Old Authors could only dream of getting.

I really love the story of how everything has changed, and it's a fabulous microcosm of fandom evolution and how approaches to fanworks have changed and grown with fandom, and I think it's all so so cool.

#additions welcome! #I also feel like I've made this post before lol #gather round children it's time for granny rimouskis to spin the tale of the sidgeno evolution once more

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #4748:

Being a victim does not make you free from criticism.

I won't name names here, but this has been beginning to bug me. Basically, there's a youtuber I used to follow when I was younger (Let's call them "Barry"), but I stopped watching them a long time ago due to losing interest in their kind of content and for other reasons I'll get into in a bit. However, Barry caught my attention again recently by calling out a group of people who severely bullied them years ago. And though I can fully acknowledge that what they went through was shitty, and the offending parties deserve any and all criticism that comes their way...howeevvverrr Barry isn't exactly the most innocent person either. And I hate the fact that people are going out of their way to kiss Barry's feet just because they're technically a victim.

The reason why I stop watching Barry's content is because i kind of realized they're… Kind of an asshole?

- Barry will often make fun of those who can't take criticism, yet can't seem to take criticism themselves by making condescending remarks towards the critic, or just flat out ignore it.

- Barry openly defended other youtubers who said and did really shitty things. Like one dude who falsely accused a person of being a p#dophile with 0 evidence, another person who bullied someone else off Twitter, and someone else who encouraged the harassment of a small-time artist just because "something something, they're art iz filled wiff da cwingiez"

- Barry themselves also said/did some (for lack of better words) shady things in the past, too. And it's not limited to just defending shitty people, either. Saying things like women owe their male benefactors sexual favors, constantly sticks their nose in other people's business' where it doesn't belong (I.E making videos on topics and people that are NONE of their business), and will frequently throw their friends under the bus if they're the ones being called out for something they got wrong in their videos. On top of that, they also delete older videos that might make themselves look bad.

So what's the point of me explaining all this? Well, after Barry made their video exposing the previously mentioned bullies, people are suddenly acting like they can do no wrong and that they're just an innocent little baby angel who can't be criticized again forever and evers. <3<3

TO HELL WITH THAT! Just because certain people have been mistreated in the past doesn't mean we should sweep anything they did wrong under the rug. I was bullied when I was a kid too, but that doesn't give me the right to act like a dickhead, does it? It's funny Barry called out the bullies for making excuses for their own poor behavior, but now others are doing the exact same thing on Barry's behalf. It's not just them either, I've seen the same thing happen to people like politicians and celebrities as well. It's insane, as it is hypocritical.

- TL;DR: being a victim of something bad is not an instant "get out of jail" free card. I really wish more people knew that.

#ask box submission #fandom problem 4748

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - A visitor

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Requested by: @luvjanexx

Request: hii can i request yujin x ive member reader fluff

yujin ad reader being cute on vlive please and thank you !!

Summary: During your most recent vlive, Yujin decides to pay you a visit and stays for the rest of the live.

A/N: I love fluffy Yujin, thanks for requesting <3

3rd's POV

Y/N is here!!!

Are you at your dorm rn?

Comeback when?

Hi!

"Hi guys. Yes I'm at the dorm right now, in my room to be exact. I was actually bored so I decided to turn on the live and talk with you all" You said, reading the comments. People were slowly tuning in and you continued talking with your fans about random topics like what did you eat that day or what you planned to do tomorrow.

"Yeah, other members are still doing their photoshoots. I finished earlier than everyone today" You answered another question about the other members whereabouts and laughed when you remembered their faces when you told them that you finished for today and could go home.

Poor members lmao

Y/N won life today it seems

You continued talking with your fans until you heard a knock on you door "Come in" you yelled and soon the door opened, revealing your leader in her full glory. She was in her sweatpants already which meant that she came back some time ago. She was also wearing a gray hoodie with a hood pulled on her cap. In her left hand she had a bag full of what you could see be different kinds of snacks and drinks.

"It looks like we have a visitor today guys" You laughed at the camera as Yujin started dancing her way to you. You turned your phone a bit so the camera could catch at least a little bit of your leader being a loveable fool as you often said.

Soon though you had to put your phone to the side so it could show you and Yujin who took a sit next to you after pulling her hoodie of, leaving her in a simple white t-shirt. The cap stayed on her head as she greeted the fans "Hi guys. It's Yujin who managed to finish her today's schedules" She made a V to the camera and looked at you to signal you to do the same. After looking at each other for a few seconds you turned to the camera and made a V of your own, earning a happy "Yay" from Yujin.

They're so cute together🤭

The V queens are here✌

We're gonna be fed so well today :>

"Are the others still working?" You asked her as you started looking through the bag that Yujin brought "Rei and Jiwon finished before me but they went somewhere together. Gaeul unnie and Hyunseo are still busy" You hummed at her answer as you continued looking for your favorite chips. Yujin used this time to read some more comments, giggling at one specific "You guys look like a couple right now" You quickly looked up and noticed that you indeed looked like a couple, mostly because of Yujin's cap on your head and her arm being wrapped lazily around your waist.

Omg they do look like one :0

Starship probably doesn't have them on a gun point this time

They're my parents idc

They're accepting their fate I see😈

The live continued with some occasional jokes about your relationship, Yujin being her flirty self and you actually becoming flustered over some of the things she said. Your not so small crush on Yujin didn't helped the situation too, it only grew during this live.

"They asked us to hold hands" Yujin said and looked at you with a teasing grin as she put her hand out in front of you "Come on, I'm waiting" You sighed and connected your hand with hers. You did hold hands occasionally but only now you realized how your hands fit perfectly together, so much that you've even started questioning if it was true or if your mind decided to play tricks on you.

Suddenly Yujin brought your hands to her face and kissed the back of your hand. It was so sudden that you couldn't help but gasp lightly as your face started heating up. Your heartbeat started being faster as you looked away from Yujin and onto the comments.

Woah Yujin so flirty😳

Is our ynnie blushing?

Omg she's blushing :>

We're being fed so well today🤭

"Did I made you flustered?" Yujin looked at you and you slapped her shoulder repeatedly in order to get her attention away from you which only made her laugh loudly "Y/N is so cute right guys?" Yujin looked at the camera again, pulling you more into her embrace because after the whole holding hands thing you pulled away from her a little "Oh shut up" You mumbled but still cuddled more into her side.

You heard your members downstairs and looked at the time "We're here a while now. I guess it's time to say goodbye" You started as you and Yujin got closer to the camera "I'll do another live tomorrow so you can come back here if you had fun today. Are you going to visit us again unnie?" You asked Yujin as she nodded "Probably yeah. We'll see if Rei lets me, lately she's been complaining that she wants to be on one of your lives too" You laughed when you imagined Rei complaining, she must have looked so cute.

Before you realized it Yujin kissed you on the cheek before you could end the live "There was a comment that told me to kiss your cheek" She said with a smile and you only managed to nod as you ended the live. Honestly you didn't had to know that there was no comment like that and Yujin just made that one up.

#vex writes #ive x reader #ive reactions #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #iz*one reactions #izone reactions #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin

[ritalacochona]

So i am rewatching the first season into the 2nd again ( yes I have a problem but that's why I took a week off of work k?) And I noticed somethings on this viewing that are new for me with the context of 2nd season:

-Ed is under a lot of pressure to figure things out and live up to the Blackbeard moniker. His speech to Stede!Blackbeard about everything being his fault, his responsibility. I never watched Izzy in that scene. That speech was for Iz. Especially considering Izzy's earlier insults and saying he was going to quit. The look he gives Izzy when the fog is revealed. Charged.

- Ed is a deeply lonely person. Izzy may "have love for Edward" but he does not play with him (ex:the clouds like frankfurters, the trinkets on the ship). Izzy is shown to chronically lack imagination (Its how Stede gets one hostage back, gets gun powder in Izzy's face in the duel). This is an integral part of Ed and Stede. It also means that Stede can come to the Lighthouse conclusion with Ed. Not a subordinate-a partner.

- Ed doesn't see that Izzy is also breaking under the weight of his role in Blackbeard. The constant going between Ed, the crew, and doing all the work without the reverence/ obedience/respect afforded to the actual Blackbeard is unbelievably stressful. I think of love dying in a marriage when one partner has the other act like their babysitter. In this case it's the one being treated like the child who is done first.

-I never noticed how hard Ed works to keep Iz around. The way he leaves the crows nest to lure Izzy back in with promises and compliments about being a good captain. Poor Iz. Even with Stede, who he is his most himself with,Ed still thinks he needs to put on the Blackbeard show. It's what Stede and the crew like right? Izzy is key to being Blackbeard. Ed goes through it when Izzy loses the duel to Stede (it didnt have to be like this Iz, we could have worked something out). Everyone is happy to see Izzy go except Ed. He is upset when Izzy curses him. He walks away upset.

- I never realized how Izzy leaving could play a part in why Ed is preparing to leave at the start of " This is Happening." It something to think about as you watch him start with his moodiness. I imagine Izzy was always responsible for him in his moods. I imagine despite the fact I think he was already in love with Stede at this point. He was feeling very insecure. He felt so strongly for Stede, too scared to lose this new connection that had brought life back into his life to push for something more. Blackbeard is Edward's cloak against vulnerability, Izzy is key to Blackbeard= Firstmate/ security blanket.

- when Izzy betrays Blackbeard to the British, it breaks the final line holding their relationship together. He had an opportunity. When Ed came back to the ship heartbroken. If Izzy could have realized how he felt, could have been kind to Ed. Offered love instead of insults and threats maybe he could have fixed things.

- In season 2 Ed is trying to operate Blackbeard on his own. Izzy was always the second on the helm, but after the betrayal, after the threats, Ed can never fully trust him again. Any part of Ed that thought Izzy cared about him as a person and not Blackbeard was extinguished (even if he is wrong). It makes sense why he reacts to Izzy's confession. Too late. I think even Izzy knew that though.

Edit: This video makes me think of many things:

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #ofmd season 2 #edizzy #stede x ed #ed x stede #stede bonnet #ofmd edward teach #edward teach ofmd #edward teach #blackbeard ofmd #israel hands #the Edizzy of it all #Divorced couple makes it everyone elses problem #who's afraid of virginia woolf? #Youtube

[spitinsideme]

I thought of a story inspired by your nun x demon AU.

So, basically, Pomni is a little imp who’s been bullied by other demons all her life for being a tiny, skittish little thing. One of the ways in which they bullied her was by telling her horror stories of what happens to demons on earth. They told her that earth’s inhabitants bind demons, gag them so they can’t even plead for mercy, and then proceed to do all manner of horrible things to them.

One day, a group of bullies banishes her to earth. Needless to say, the poor thing absolutely panics, darting around more or less mindlessly and trying to find a hiding spot.

Enter Ragatha. I was originally going to make her a nun with the idea that nuns learn how to capture and defeat demons to protect their churches, but that didn’t really stick. I think instead, I’ll probably make Ragatha a monster hunter/tamer or something like that? In any case, she has a lot of experience with scary-looking creatures that are actually scared of her, and she knows countless spells to peacefully restrain them.

Ragatha launches three glowing blue magical bands: one wraps around Pomni's ankles, one around her mouth (the people of this world generally gag captured demons because demons are notoriously silver-tongued), and one around her wrists, tying her hands behind her back. Pomni falls to the ground, and Ragatha immediately takes the next step: approaching Pomni and consoling her.

Unfortunately, trust can’t be gained so easily, especially right after tying up someone who’d been told their whole life to be afraid of you. Ragatha knows this (like I said, she has a lot of experience), but she tries her best to calm the little imp down anyway.

Ragatha brings Pomni to her house, and while she tries to give Pomni as much freedom as possible there (only leaving her legs tied up since she'd definitely run away otherwise), out in public, it's kind of just considered common decency, for lack of a better word, for demons brought by their owners to be bound and gagged.

This is like, the third (AT LEAST) story I thought of where Pomni is/gets turned into some kind of creature, and Ragatha has to try and tame her and take care of her. Except this one's meant to be kinky, lmao.

love how you made ragatha be like a monster hunter but in a kind way ?? she deels lime one of those people who tame in stray animals and help them get used to peoole and stuff tats what she reminds me off it fits her personality very well !!! pomni iz sticll a fucking loser so that is absoloutkey womdefdul and lovw some gaggkng llve alme bondage rwallt adds something to the whlle monster hunter and jve caught you and now i will tie uou uo yhibg .. very interwstkng ... im glad i coukd i spire you though !!! this stoey is very nice and kf yous like to share some mkre id love to read ir 👍

[bluecolty]

I should get back into making IZ space backgrounds again, ngl.

These are some still renders from animations I was working on a few months ago. I never posted them to Tumblr so I figured I'd share them with you guys today!

The animation was supposed to be alil cinematic sequence, showing the depths of space. Eventually ending on some poor destyored planet. A planet destroyed by the Irken Empire. In my head I thought it sounded cool, never got around to finishing it though. Maybe some day haha.

#invader zim #blender stuff #blender #blender model #irken empire #irken #toon shaded #invader zim blender #3d model #3d modeling #b3d #3d art #bluecolty's wip art #space

[izukumidoriyashusband]

I. Midoriya,, confession

—

—

Izuku Midoriya x Male!Reader

Word count: 604

Characters mentioned: Izuku Midoriya

Alternative ending

Part two

note//: All of this is fiction and has nothing to do with the actual characters. I do not claim to own these characters or have made them. This is fiction and for personal entertainment. Thank you and enjoy. NOT PROOFREAD. I apologize for the mistakes. Do not repost anywhere, I do not mind reblogging, please and thank you. (Had to add the bold text and all that I made in Google docs b/c it didn’t transfer over. Didn’t know that.). @izukumidoriyashusband

tw !! : angst, crying, rejection.

Summary:

Izuku has liked you for years, he understands the fact that he’s your best friend and he wouldn’t do anything to ruin that but he just can’t hold his feelings in any longer. Will you accept his feelings or will you shatter his heart? There’s only one way to find out.

Sitting on his bed, Izuku always wondered what was so great about you. Was it the way you style your hair?

Maybe it was the way you walked around the world like you owned it and nobody, and I mean nobody, could tell you otherwise.

Or maybe it was the way you actually gave a shit about him.

You don’t care about how powerful his quirk is.

You’ll still challenge him head on and shit, maybe sometimes you will lose. Other times, you’ve managed to outsmart the boy

‘How do I get rid of this feeling in my chest’ Izuku thinks to himself

‘You tell them.’

Another voice other than his own responds to him.

‘That’s it! I’ll tell them.’

He’s constructed a plan to tell you everything.

Was it better in his head?

It’s 2pm on a Friday. Training took up a lot of the day but for some reason, the UA students had nothing to do now but relax.

“I’ll make my move now,” Izuku whispers to himself.

“Uhh. What move?” Y/N asks in a whisper as well, startling poor Izuku and having him jump back.

“Oh! Uh nothing! I’m just thinking of ways to study better…! Heh.” He responds in a panic, receiving a ‘I totally believe you’ look from you.

“Sureeee. And I’m Batman.” You respond in a very sarcastic tone. The one Izuku loves to hear, it makes his heart skip a beat.

“But um, Y/N?” “That's my name, ‘Zuku.”

“Can I talk to you for a moment? In private? Please?”

Y/N stares at the boy for a moment before giving him a silent nod.

Izuku wastes no time, grabbing Y/N by his wrist and heading outside of the UA building, he receives weird stares from people he passes but he’s too focused on making sure his heart doesn’t jump out of his chest.

When they’re outside, Izuku finds a tree under the shade, he’s breathing heavily and he’s visibly shaking.

He lets go of Y/N’s wrist and takes a deep breath.

“What’s up, bro?”

God that word brings so much pain.

“Well um… Y/N I’ve liked you for so long and no matter what happened, you were always right there. You made me feel like the best person to ever walk the earth and-“

Izuku is too busy talking to notice your wide eyes and how you look almost…disappointed?

“I wanna cherish you forever. I wanna give you the love that no guy ever will. I wanna be the one you come home to. The one who holds you at night when you don’t feel well. I wanna have arguments and the times we forgive each other. I want to have those late night talks with each other about nothing and make it into something, all I wanna say is I love y-!”

“Let me stop you there.” You interrupted his sentence and he takes a look at you finally.

Did you always look this aggravated?

“I’m sorry but you’re only my friend. For fucks sake, I call you my little brother to my friends and family.” Y/N’s tone is no longer warm but cold.

Izuku’s heart. Shattered into two.

‘Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.’ He repeats in his head over and over, drowning out your voice. He cannot bear the rejection, even though he knew it may come.

He runs off in a flash, not wanting to hear it. The last thing he heard from you clearly was you yelling his name.

Izuku is now in his room. Pillow in his chest and crying.

“H-how could I be so stupid..?” He cries into his pillow.

‘How could he ever love me..?’

#bnha izuku #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x male reader #bnha imagines #izuku x reader #izuku x you #mha fanfiction #mha imagines #bnha deku #bnha deku x you #deku x reader #deku x you #deku x y/n #deku x male reader #deku x reader angst #deku x you angst #Izuku Midoriya angst #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #mha x reader #mha angst #mha x male reader #izuku x y/n #izuku midoryia x you #deku angst

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Hope I’m not bothering you with all my requests but your writing is incredible! (*^^*)♡

Maybe some endgame SteddyHands x Reader where Ed and Stede are together and Izzy and Reader are together and they go on a double date (Stede’s idea) and all have a really good time. But afterwards whenever it’s not all four of them together it feels like someone’s missing. Shenanigans ensue. Ed and Stede probably decide to invite you and izzy on more double dates and Izzy is probably worrying that you are realizing you want better than him and Reader is just confused and concerned.

Maybe eventually Lucius tells them all that “if all of you would rather go on double dates and spend time with all four of you, why don’t you all just dare each other?” And the Ed, Stede, Izzy, and Y/N all realize “ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ how did we not think of that?”

Just All Date Each Other Already!

“Why did you agree to this?” Izzy grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair, evenly spreading the pomade throughout it. He didn’t even know why he was stressing so much about this, it was ridiculous. 

“Because they were doing that thing where they act like you have a choice but you actually don’t,” you reminded him, fixing the fastenings of your shirt.

“All the more reason to decline,” he continued to complain as he wiped the excess from his hands.

“They’re our captains and our friends, it’s a double date. It won’t kill us,” you rolled your eyes fondly. Really, you wouldn’t think spending a dinner with one of his oldest friends wouldn’t be such a cause of stress for him.

“Barely been on a normal date, nevermind a double date. What even the fuck is that?”

Finishing up with the cuffs of your shirt, you walked up to him. You gently took hold of his waist, turning him to face you before soothingly running your hands up and down his sides. “I have taken you on plenty of dates, thank you very much. A double date is just two couples spending some time together,” you told him, though you were sure he could figure that out. “It’ll be fine, love.” 

You made a bit of a show of flattening his collar and centering the knot of his tie even if it was already pretty perfect. “There you go. You look perfect,” you kissed the tip of his nose playfully just to make his cheeks flush pink. 

“Let’s get this over with.” That was as enthusiastic as Izzy was going to get about this, but you could work with that.

“Iz, sweetie, relax. It’s just dinner. You and Ed can hang out like old times and I’ll make sure Stede isn’t too overbearing,” you assured him, giving his shoulders a little squeeze. 

“Alright,” Izzy sighed before looking you once over. 

You had dressed up a little, throwing on some nicer looking clothes that you own. Nothing fancy, just not the sort of clothes you would scrub the deck wearing. Izzy didn’t have any ‘nice clothes’, but he forwent his vest in an attempt to feel more…approachable. 

“We’ve got this,” you shot him a wink before taking his hand and leading him out of the little cabin you shared. 

At least you didn’t run into any of the other crew members on your way to the captain’s cabin, that would only put Izzy more on edge. Once you reached the door, you gave Izzy’s hand a reassuring and grounding squeeze.“I love you,” Izzy said under his breath, staring at the door. The poor man sounded like he was being led to the gallows. 

“We’re not dying, Iz,” you laughed. “But I love you too,” you gave him a quick kiss, just for a little added confidence, before knocking on the door. 

Stede flung the door open and greeted you both with a bright smile. “Right on time!” he praised, pleased with the timeliness. “Welcome, come on in, make yourselves comfortable.” 

When Stede stepped to the side, you and Izzy walked into the cabin. Edward beamed at you both from a cabinet where he was selecting a bottle of something suitably aged to have over dinner.

“I know you’re going to ask for rum, Iz, but please just give this wine a chance,” Edward spoke up before Izzy could even open his mouth. 

“I’ve had wine before, Edward,” Izzy scoffed. Sure, probably not whatever wine Stede Bonnet collected, but he knew what wine tasted like. 

“But not this wine,” Edward waved a bottle in front of him. 

“I’m sure we’re going to love it,” you smiled, giving Izzy’s hand another small squeeze. 

You herded Izzy over to the dining table. “Sit at any of the placements you like. Roach is particularly proud of this spread,” Stede told you both. 

You and Izzy chose two seats beside each other. You didn’t know if it was customary for partners to sit beside or opposite each other, but you weren’t about to leave Izzy’s side when he was already anxious either way. 

Edward strode over to the table and filled four glasses with red wine, before he took his seat opposite Izzy. Stede was quick to sit by Ed’s side, opposite you.

The four of you filled your plates with Roach’s food, adding certain elements whenever Stede recommended something. 

“So, Izzy,” Stede spoke with an air of casualness, even if his attempt at casual conversation came off as a little awkward. 

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you ate, suspenseful to see how Stede was going to communicate with the first mate. They had been getting along better, not at each other’s throats all the time, but still very rarely interacted one-on-one. At least you and Edward were there to mediate if anything went wrong. 

“How is the crew?” Stede asked. 

Good idea, you thought, talk about something neutral. When you glanced over at Edward to see his reaction, he appeared to be thinking the same thing. 

“Not bad, not going to get themselves killed while we have dinner,” Izzy shrugged, speaking like he wasn’t sure how to converse with the other man. 

“C’mon, Iz. Gotta be more to say than that,” Edward prompted, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“The sword fighting lessons have been going really well, tell them about that, love,” you suggested, smiling in a way to let Izzy know that you had him, that you were here for him. 

“The crew are doing…fine. I suppose they’re not as useless as they once were. Feeny and Pete are taking to swordsmanship fairly well. Frenchie isn’t so good with a sword but his footwork is impressive,” Izzy reported. 

“And the Swede is getting really good with the knots,” you added, sounding proud that Izzy had taught them such things. Proud to have Izzy as your partner. 

“He’s…made little songs to remind him how to tie different knots,” Izzy sighed, his nose scrunching up at the memory of sitting through the Swede explaining each of the songs. 

“It’s sweet.” You couldn’t help but feel a little fond as whenever you passed the strange man singing his little songs and tying his knots.

“It’s ridiculous,” Izzy corrected.

“Well, it sounds rather effective,” Stede grinned, “I’m glad you’re all getting along.”

“Izzy is a good teacher when he wants to be,” Edward told Stede, shooting Izzy a playful wink. 

“When people listen,” Izzy muttered before helping himself to another forkfull. 

“And that is why Jack still doesn’t know which start is which,” Edward agreed, sounding fond and amused. 

“The fucker can barely find Polaris. Would be able to if he listened to anything that wasn’t a crude joke,” Izzy smirked, amusement in his eyes, while Edward laughed.

Stede took a sip of his wine before nervously swirling the liquid around in the glass. “Well, I was wondering, Izzy…if you could give me some lessons with a sword. I’ve improved some but I’m not nearly as good as you or Edward,” Stede asked before quickly adding, “I promise to listen.” 

Izzy eyed him for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if Stede was being serious about lessons, if he was worth the time. Izzy must have decided he was serious, because he agreed. “Suppose I could, yeah.” 

“Told you he’d do it!” Edward placed a hand on Stede’s knee, giving it an excited shake. “And we’ll come and cheer you both on, right?” he looked across to you. 

“Obviously,” you smiled back at him. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you knocked your shoulder against Izzy’s, he rolled his eyes but still smiled to himself. 

After the promise of lessons, the conversation lulled. Falling awkward for a moment, a nervous energy buzzing over the four of you. 

“Oh!” Stede perked up, thinking up a topic for conversation. “You won’t believe the conversation we had with the tailor at the last port…”

Stede’s story about the tailor was…mundane at best, but you felt somewhat fond while listening to him and his passion about how the tailor dared to suggest the mix of certain fabrics. You even caught Izzy listening to the tale, the corner of his mouth quirking up every now and again, likely at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. 

Occasionally Edward would jump in with something along the lines of “can you fucking believe that!” or “it was fucking diabolical!” which was all very entertaining and rather sweet. 

You and Izzy remained in the captain’s cabin long after dinner was finished, which wasn’t the plan but wasn’t unpleasant by any means. Apparently the two of you decided that it would simply be rude to leave without finishing the bottle of wine…and the second one. 

The wine helped the four of you loosen up, tension about the strange situation fading and any nerves long forgotten. Stories flew from each of you, the others listening intently. Jokes were shared and laughter echoed, the company feeling surprisingly easy. 

At the end of the evening, you and Izzy had your arms linked together as you headed for the door.

“This was a wonderful evening!” Stede exclaimed, his voice loud with drink but endearing nonetheless, as he walked you both to the door.  “We’ll have to do it again.” 

‘Course we will, love,” Edward agreed warmly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

“And we shall see you both tomorrow,” Stede moved with far too much familiarity but you found that you didn’t really mind when he stepped forward and took you by the arms. 

You spluttered a little when he kissed both of your cheeks, still smiling wide as he pulled away, but laughed it off. Izzy’s face was bright red as he received his cheek kisses, and you had to hold back a startled giggle. 

“Alright, mate, come on,” Edward laughed, pulling Stede away.

“Goodnight, darlings!” Stede waved but was already walking over to the dining table. “Edward, come help me clean up!”  

“He doesn’t drink a lot and wine is particularly…effective on him,” Edward explained, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. 

“It’s fine,” you assured him as you lent into Izzy’s side, feeling him tighten his hold on your arm. 

“Edward!” Stede called from the table, making you laugh. 

“Night, guys,” Edward grinned, glancing over his shoulder to check on Stede, who was stacking plates. 

“Night, Ed,” you smiled and Izzy gave him a nod before the two of you left. 

You and Izzy returned arm in arm to your shared cabin. 

“Tonight was actually kinda fun,” you reflected as you closed the door behind you. 

“Yeah…it actually was,” Izzy agreed, clearly surprised that he shared your sentiment.

But Izzy didn’t have much time to think about that because you were alright in front of him, already working him out of his shirt as you brought him into a sweet kiss.

Back in the captain’s cabin, the two men had tidied the table somewhat before slipping into their comfy bed. 

“Tonight was lovely, Ed,” Steded murmured into Edward’s neck, happily curled up around him. 

“It was fun. I think even Izzy enjoyed himself,” Edward mused fondly, tracing little shapes against’s Stede’s arm. It really had been too long since he and Izzy spent some time together and it was nice to see Izzy happy with somebody who treated him well, you were clearly very good for his friend.

“We really should do it again.” 

“I’d like that,” Edward smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Stede’s head.

-

Apparently that double dinner date had awoken something between the four of you. Relationships between Izzy and the crew had been improving for a while now and, while he didn’t seek out Stede’s company, he didn’t complain so much about the co-captain’s presence. The new development was that the four of you were putting much more effort into spending time together than you usually would.

Stede had stayed committed to his lessons with Izzy, never missing a lesson and always putting his full effort into it. He really was improving as well. His dedication and improvements were doing the job of gaining Izzy’s respect, and perhaps even some fondness. As the two men sparred back and forth, you and Edward would cheer them on from the sidelines and throw in advice for Stede. Edward would throw an arm around your shoulders when he got over excited, shaking you as he cheered on one of the men.

Edward had been randomly finding you when you were up on the deck, teaching you little tips and tricks about how to predict the weather. You were learning how to read the clouds and pay more attention to the temperature changes, but you knew you would never develop the sixth sense that Edward seemed to possess. Still, you enjoyed those little moments together.

Edward and Izzy would spend some evenings sitting up in the crows nest, just like they used to when they were deckhands on the same ship. Talking in a way they hadn’t in years.

After sharing your routine morning coffee with Izzy, when Izzy had left to round up the rest of the crew, Stede would come and speak with you. Never about anything important, just like he wanted to spend some time in your company, and you didn’t mind in the slightest. 

Spending time together were highlights of your days but nothing quite compared to when all four of you found yourselves together. When the four of you got together for something it just felt like something was clicking into place. 

The four of you were getting along better than ever, finding yourself seeking each other out just for the sake of it. You enjoyed each other’s company, found it easy to be around each other, enjoying learning more about each other, and growing fonder of each other as the days passed.

However, this new closeness had caused a few…crises. 

Stede loves Edward, he had never known love like this, he didn’t even think it existed. Only weeks ago Stede would have easily and proudly exclaimed that Edward was his entire world. And yet, he found himself longing after the company of two others. He loved Edward dearly, every part of him, Edward was more than he could ever ask for. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the time he and Edward spent together but he found that he enjoyed that time as much as he enjoyed his time with you or Izzy, and when he considered it to be the best was when all four of you were together. Everything just felt so…right. Was he truly so greedy and so selfish that he needed to have you and Izzy as well? Oh god, what would Edward think if he knew?

Edward had been beating himself up as well, finding himself curled up in an empty bathtub more often than usual. He loved Stede, had from the very start and never questioned it since. But he loved Izzy too. He and Izzy had such a history and over time the connection they shared had become tangled and twisted into something unrecognisable. But he did love Izzy, had for a long time, just assumed it was a different kind of love to what he shared with Stede. Plus, he was with Stede and Izzy was with you. The two of them were happy and things were finally going well for them both, so why did something feel wrong? Then there was you, he could so easily see what drew Izzy towards you. Your kindness and sincerity, your patience and open adoration for the people you love and care about. Edward had always liked you but spending more time with you had been eye opening. He was Blackbeard, he should be able to have everything he wanted and more, but he couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Stede, of hurting any of you.

Despite the worries of the captains, they didn’t talk about it, but they did decide to invite you and Izzy on more double dates. Dinner and drinks in their cabin, stargazing on the quarterdeck, nature walks when the ship was anchored near land. 

-

For the most recent, totally normal, just between friends, double date, the four of you were in the captain’s cabin again. Stede really loved going ashore and doing something exciting with the three of you but the privacy of the cabin was second best.

The four of you were sitting around the lit fire, the cabin warm and cosy. Edward was lounging on the couch, stretching his bad leg out over Stede’s lap. Izzy was sitting in one of the arm chairs, surprisingly relaxed, while you had made yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs. Sitting on a pillow with your head resting against the inside of his knee. 

You laughed at one of Edward’s stories, turning your face into Izzy’s knee to muffle the sound. 

“Oh! Before I forget, I picked something up for you when we were last at port,” Stede announced excitedly, placing his drink down. 

“Me?” you asked, eyes widening as you lifted your head from Izzy’s knee. 

“Yes, it’s nothing too special. I just saw it and it looked to be your size and I just thought about how well it would suit you!” Edward smiled as he moved his leg, letting Stede stand from the couch. “I’ll go fetch it!” and with that, Stede disappeared into his secret wardrobe.

You looked to Edward for some sort of explanation as Izzy sat up straighter behind you. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t too expensive,” Edward assured you, seeing the slight panic on both of your faces. “I agree with him though, think it will look fantastic on you.”

You couldn’t help but blush a little at the way Edward smiled at you. Admittedly, you could see why people gravitated towards him. 

Behind you, Izzy frowned to himself. Stede was getting you gifts and Edward was complimenting you…something about this felt…wrong to him. 

Stede soon returned with a silky looking white shirt on a hanger, holding it up proudly. “It’s alright if you don’t like it,” Stede quickly backtracked when you just stared at him, looking a little embarrassed.

You stood, Izzy offering you a hand, before approaching Stede. He kept hold of the hanger while you rubbed the material between your fingers. If you accepted the gift, it would definitely be the softest thing you owned.

You just didn’t understand why Stede would buy anything for you. “It’s beautiful, but you really didn’t need to-”

“I know that,” Stede tutted, “I just wanted too.”

“You should try it on,” Edward suggested and Stede nodded in agreement, while Izzy shifted in his seat. 

“Alright,” you nodded and took the shirt . Stede gestured for you to go into the wardrobe for some privacy. 

You disappeared into the closet, taking a quick look at Stede’s variety of clothes and the garments Edward had collected since being with Stede. 

Izzy watched you slip out of the room, a little frown still on his face. “What do you think, Iz?” Edward asked, getting his attention. 

“It’s nice,” Izzy shrugged. It was a nice shirt…

“This is all pretty nice, isn’t it? The four of us hanging out.” It sounded like Edward was trying to get at something, but Izzy wasn’t quite sure what. Izzy glanced at Stede for some sort of insight, but he just looked like he was waiting for some sort of approval.  

“Yeah…suppose it is,” Izzy agreed.

“We picked something up for you, as well,” Edward grinned, stretching out his bad leg before standing from the couch. Izzy watched, silent and confused, as Edward wandered over to the desk, pulling something out of a drawer. “I know you take care of your stuff so your knife is in perfect condition but it’s old and you deserve something new,” Edward brought the new dagger over to where Izzy was sitting.

“I had my eye on something else but Ed said it was more decorative than practical and I know you love practicality,” Stede confessed.

“What do you think, Iz?” Edward asked as he handed over the blade.

Izzy examined the blade, turning it around and testing the weight in his hand. It was a fine blade, thin and sharp. Deadly. The handle fit in his hand like it was made for him. It must have cost a pretty penny.

“It’s…it’s good. Uh…thank you,” Izzy could feel how warm his face had turned as he looked up to Edward.

“You’re welcome, mate,” Edward grinned, pleased with himself.

Thankfully, the attention was taken off of Izzy when you walked back into the room. You were wearing your new shirt, tucked into the waistband of your pants. They had been right, it was perfect on you. It billowed and clung to all the right places, the collar fastened with laces, letting you choose how tight or loose you wanted to tie it. Right now you had it tied loosely, casually. 

“So, what do you think?” you asked, uncomfortable with the silence you were met with. 

“Beautiful!” Stede complimented brightly, instantly blushing at his own praise. You blushed as well at the earnesty. 

“It suits you,” Izzy really meant it but he still felt like he was beat to the chance to make you blush and smile like that. 

“Thanks, love,” you still smiled brighter at his compliment and that helped put him at ease a little.

You returned to your sea between Izzy’s legs, flashing him another smile before making yourself comfortable. The captains poured more drinks and returned to their seats on the couch. Everything went back to normal but Izzy found himself unable to listen to the rest of the conversation.

Izzy had given you things before, but they were practical items. A new knife since yours had been a rusty old thing, a new pair of boots when yours got wrecked. He never got you something so fine just for the sake of it. 

What if that was what you wanted? What if you wanted what the captains could offer, what if you thought they were better for you than him? 

-

Things had definitely been a little…weird. The captains have been particularly friendly lately. Of course, you didn’t mind, you loved spending time with them and the more time you spent together the more you enjoyed it. You just weren’t sure what brought on the change.

Izzy seemed to have been enjoying your little get togethers as well, until recently. He was worrying about something but you couldn’t tell what it was and he wouldn’t tell you. You knew he would when he was ready, so you would just offer him support in the meantime.

You cared for Edward and Stede deeply, more than you originally thought you did, but your priority right now was making sure Izzy was alright.

Things had come to their climax, the tension no longer letting you ignore it. Izzy was avoiding Edward and Stede completely and being distant with you, you just refused to let him push you away completely. Edward was keeping his distance from you and Izzy, sticking extra close to Stede and it was like Stede was going out of his way to ensure nothing he did could be interpreted as anything but platonic.

It was all very strange and you hated it. You hated that something was on Izzy’s mind and he felt like he couldn’t talk to you about it, you hated that two of your closest friends were acting so distant. You wanted to know what was bothering Izzy but he refused to talk about it, you couldn’t ask Edward if he knew anything because he would practically run away from you whenever you tried. 

Something was wrong with each of the men you cared about but you just couldn’t figure it out at all. You wanted to make things right, you just didn’t know how.

-

By midday you felt like banging your head against the mast until something broke. Izzy was being all sulky, Edward weirdly flighty, and Stede uncharacteristically untalkative. 

“Why do you look so sad?” Lucius asked, coming up to your side. 

“Do you ever feel like something is going on with the people around you but you don’t know what and nobody will tell you what it is?” you asked, folding your arms on the ship’s railing. 

“Sometimes, and then we talk about it and solve the problem,” Lucius nodded, obviously with some judgement in his voice.

“Genius,” you muttered. You knew he was right, the four of you should talk about it, but that would be so much easier to do if they would actually talk to you about it! 

“You’re talking about Izzy and the captain’s right?” Lucius asked knowingly. 

“Yep. You noticed how weird they’ve all been acting too?” you knew you couldn’t be the only one who thought something was wrong, you weren’t going crazy.  

“Yes, I’ve noticed you idiots all being idiots,” Lucius rolled his eyes with a certain fondness. 

You groaned, dropping your forehead down to your folded arms. “Rude.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the biggest idiot out of all of them,” he reassured you, patting your back. 

“Thanks, Luce,” you murmured into your arms. “I don’t know what happened. The four of us were getting along so well. It was great, y’know? But now it’s like nobody can stand to talk to each other for too long. I’ve asked Izzy about what’s going on but he always brushes it off like it’s nothing, when something is clearly wrong,” you lifted your head just enough to make sure Lucius could hear you clearly. 

“I think I know what’s going on here,” Lucius sighed, sounding exasperated with you all. 

“What?” you pushed yourself up from the railing and turned to him properly. You just wanted to fix things, and if Lucius had some insight you were willing to hear him out.

“I’m going to help you, mostly because the four of you sulking about it is really killing the mood.” You just rolled your eyes at him, knowing he cared really. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have even asked what was wrong. “But you’ll owe me big time for this, all of you will,” he warned. 

“Yeah, whatever, just please help me out, Lucius,” you didn’t think Lucius would ask much from you for his help. Probably just ask you to cover some chores for him.

“Grab your angry little man and meet me in the captain’s cabin,” he ordered, clearly already having some sort of plan ready.

“When?” you asked, unsure whether prep time would be helpful for Izzy or if it would only give him time to grow more anxious about the whole thing.

“Now. I’ll round up the captains.”

“...you really think this will work?”

“I really do,” Lucius sounded more like he was talking to himself than to you, but you decided to just go along with it.

You thanked him quickly before running off. You had no idea what he was planning but he had a plan and you didn’t, so you might as well give it a shot.

Izzy was definitely reluctant when you told him to follow you to the captain’s cabin, that you wanted to finally talk about whatever has been going on recently. He was even more reluctant when you mentioned that Lucius would also be there, but you didn’t want to surprise him with that. Thankfully, Izzy trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t allow anything to harm him or put him in an overly uncomfortable situation. So, he let you lead him by the hand to their cabin.

You knocked on the door and Lucius opened it. “Sit down,” he ordered immediately, stepping aside to let you both in.

You just nodded and entered the room, seeing that Edward and Stede were already sitting on the couch, looking a little like scolded children. You and Izzy moved towards the armchairs but were quickly stopped. 

“Nope. On the couch,” Lucius corrected.

“Bit of a tight fit, Luce,” you pointed out, but he probably already knew that. 

“Don’t care. Sit,” Lucius cocked an eyebrow, arms folded over his chest sternly. 

You shared a look with Izzy before joining the captains on the couch. Edward and Izzy were on the outsides, pressed against the arms of the couch, while you and Stede were squeezed between them. 

“Lucius, what is this?” Stede questioned, sounding just as confused as Edward looked. 

“Couples therapy,” Lucius huffed, as if it were obvious. You all just frowned at him. It was not obvious. “The four of you couldn’t be more obvious. You’re all in love with each other,” Lucius never had been a fan of unneeded subtly when it came to this kind of thing, he liked a straight forward response. Even still, that was blunt for him.

Lucius thought it would be best to be blunt and smooth things over afterwards than try to get you four idiots to figure it out by yourselves. He didn’t have all day. 

“Lucius!” Stede eyes widened at the scribe, as if scandalised. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, boy,” Edward scoffed but pointedly wouldn’t look at him. 

“Seriously, this is your idea of helping?” you glared at him. Sure, you had accepted his help, but this wasn’t what you had imagined.

Izzy was surprisingly quiet beside you, just staring down at his lap. You didn’t think that was a good sign. 

“Shut up. The four of you, just listen,” Lucius tutted. “You’ve all been spending a lot of time together, right?” he asked. Figuring that you still weren’t allowed to talk, the four of you nodded. “And you enjoy spending time together?” You all nodded again. “And most of all you enjoy spending time as all four of you?” More nods, although they were more hesitant this time. 

“Then maybe all four of you should just…be together,” Lucius suggested as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

“Lucius-” you began to interrupt, this was a pretty heavy topic to just drop on everyone.

“Nope, still talking,” Lucius thoroughly chastised you. “Relationships don’t just have to be two people, and that’s perfectly okay,” he reminded the four of you.

When he didn’t speak for a moment, Stede figured he was allowed to talk again. “Lucius, I appreciate this and you know we all have nothing but respect for you and your relationships but…I don’t think that would be something I’m comfortable with.” 

Lucius considered him without judgement before nodding. “You wouldn’t be comfortable with Ed just sleeping with anyone, right?” he asked, still no judgement.

“Of course not!” 

“I wouldn’t fucking do that!” Edward defended himself, clearly offended by the mere suggestion. 

“It wasn’t an accusation,” Lucius reassured him. “So, you aren’t interested in an open relationship like Pete and I have. You need security. That’s fine, that’s not the only option.”

This was his nightmare, Izzy realised as the conversation sounded so far away. Lucius was suggesting that you be with somebody else (even if it was in addition to him). You would see that being with somebody else is better and would leave him behind.

As if sensing his spiralling, you gently took his hand in yours, just holding it as Lucius continued. It helped bring Izzy back into the cabin, into his body.

“The four of you could have a closed relationship. Just the four of you, all of you in a relationship with each other. Exclusivity between the four of you,” Lucius explained, “just like what you're already doing but with less pining.” 

Edward hummed to himself, a little ‘huh’ sound. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t already thought of this, but even if he had, would he have suggested it to Stede? He looked at Stede to see how he was reacting to the idea. Much to his delight, Stede looked interested, hopeful even.

Stede looked at Edward, perhaps to judge his reaction as well, and the two of them shared a silent communication. This was something they both wanted and they knew just by looking at each other. It would be new, especially for Stede, but it could be such a good thing.

Clearly making his decision, Edward broke out into a bright smile. 

“Well, uh, thank you for your…input, Lucius. I think the four of us need to talk about this…alone,” Stede gave him a tight smile, wringing his hands in his lap. 

“Hint taken,” Lucius nodded. “Come find me if you need any help…try to avoid it if necessary,” he escaped from the room promptly, probably to tell Pete everything, closing the door behind him.

“Well, this solves everything!” Edward stood up, clapping his hands together, staring brightly at the three of you. He looked almost proud of himself, as if it had been his idea. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of it first,” he admitted. 

Izzy was looking at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open, unable to do anything more. 

“Darling, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Stede stood and pulled Edward to the side, hoping to calm him down a little before he overwhelmed you or Izzy.

As soon as you were offered any sense of privacy, you turned to Izzy. “Are you alright?” Izzy could quite easily become overwhelmed, especially when it came to anything involving feelings, and your first instinct was to check in on him. 

Izzy convinced himself to meet your gaze, you deserved that at least. “Do you want to be with them?” he asked.

“I want to be with you,” you promised him without hesitation, already knowing where his mind was probably going. “I…I do like Ed and Stede, and I know you do too. I’m willing to give this a try if that’s something you want, but I promise you, Iz, I am not leaving you for them. I love you.” You knew that honesty was the only way to talk about this properly, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t get the wrong idea. You were with him, no matter what he wanted.

“But…what if you end up liking them more?” Izzy’s question just broke your heart, he sounded so small, but at the same time you were so proud of him for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. 

“That’s never going to happen, it’s not possible. Even if I love them, I will always love you just as much, that will never change,” you kept one hand around his, bringing your other hand up to his cheek, hoping to ease the tension between his brows. “I know you love Ed, have for a long time, and I know you’ve been growing fond of Stede. That doesn’t mean you love me any less does it?” you asked and Izzy frantically shook his head. “I’m here no matter what you decide, I love you.” 

Izzy would never understand how you were so good at this, at handling him and reassuring him. “I love you too,” even after all this time, he always said those words with the same devotion as he did the first time. 

You smiled and lent in to give him a chaste kiss, just to make sure he got the point.

To the side of you both, somebody cleared their throat. You pulled away from Izzy, dropping your hand from his cheek, as you both turned to look at the captains. They were watching you both fondly. 

“I, uh…that was a lot. Is everyone…are you alright to speak about this?” Stede asked. He really did feel like he was getting good at the whole ‘communicating thing’.

You looked back at Izzy, letting him decide whether he wanted to talk now or if he needed some time. He nodded and you looked at the captains again. “Yeah, we want to talk about it.” 

Izzy’s hand never once left yours, even when Edward took hold of his other hand, even when Stede pressed kisses to each of your knuckles.

The four of you were up until the early hours of the morning, fueled by coffee and unspoken feelings, talking about feelings new and old. Considering how a relationship between the four of you might look, how the four of you might navigate it.

Stede had suggested a ‘proper courting period’, and then gone on to explain what that might consist of. 

Things would stay mostly the same but the four of you would be courting each other, knowing that the intentions are romantic in nature. You would take things slow, make sure everyone was comfortable and let things progress naturally. You wouldn’t rush or force anything. If it felt right then you knew you were doing the right thing, if it felt wrong the four of you could go back to normal, even if it was a little disappointing. 

The next morning you woke up, still in the captain’s cabin with your beloved partner and two possible partners. Propped up against Izzy’s chest with Edward’s head in your lap and Stede’s head on your shoulder, drooling slightly. 

It was only the first day of whatever this was but you felt good about it, felt good about the way the four of you fit together even in your sleep. You didn’t want to be the one to disturb the three men, so you just cuddled back into Izzy and buried your hand in Edward’s hair.

#izzy hands x reader #stede bonnet x reader #edward teach x reader #steddyhands #steddy hands #steddyhands x reader #ofmd x reader

[kondensaduhhh]

I'm sorry but the way the crew just. STOOD there and watched Izzy die. like i guess that could be interpreted as the crew knowing there was no helping the situation bc they knew that This Was It, but fuck they could atleast held out hope that it wasn't. (my memory is shit, but this is s sort of fix-it so bear with me)

Roach was frantic, when was he wasn't? With so much crazed energy in him. But this was different. This was a life or death situation. This was Izzy. Roach never hated Izzy, he thought the guy was funny, albeit a bit strict. He was rummaging for something clean for once, no dirty old rag is going to be of use, maybe that was one of the reasons why he took so long, took too long. In the end he thought, 'Fuck it, captain's orders' as he went into the captain's quarters, knowing Stede, had something clean.

_-+-_

The wooden shark weighs heavy in Lucius's pocket, he holds Pete's hand tighter, burying his face into his lover's shoulder, Pete holds him tighter. He clenches his eyes tighter as he hears Fang, Frenchie, and Jim argue in watery voices, hear their frantic hands and panicked movements.

Frenchie never left Izzy's side as they boarded the ship, even as he felt as though the box he hid in his head was spilling through his ribcage and making a ruckus in his guts, everytime he presses down on the wound on Izzy's side, the man complains, groans louder, and the contents of the box was making his throat close up and eyes not work, and he wants to rip his hands away, just to make it all stop, but Jim is yelling at him in Spanish when he tried to. Both of his hands are covered in sticky, warm red and for once, Frenchie can't find it in himself to speak.

Fang is oh, so careful as he cradles Izzy's head, gently wiping away the beads of sweat, making shushing noises as Izzy complains, (he doesn't know whether it's to soothe Izzy or himself, or even Frenchie or Jim, or even Ed). He knows there are tears streaming down his face, he wants to sob, to wail, for his friend, but he fears it will jostle Izzy too much, like one hiccup will make Izzy take his last breath. So, instead he tries his best to calm Izzy down, make some of that ever present anger seep away as to not over exhaust his body than it already has. He offers a hand on Frenchie's nape, rubbing his thumb on the skin there, poor kid looks like he's going to pass out.

"Puta madre, Frenchie! Press down harder!" They snapped, their cracking voice betraying the anger they wanted to portray, "puñeta..." , their hands were barely able to hold anything with how much they were shaking, they were struggling with shoving the dirty rags into the wound, their breath catches as more blood seeps out as they push any and all fabric their useless hands can get a hold of to cork the blood flow.

They wanted to scream for Ed to get away, to scream at Izzy to not waste what very could be his last breaths on someone who cut off his toes, who shot him in the leg, who he had to protect them from, took most of the punishment from. Ed didn't deserve Izzy's final moments.

But... They can tell that the first mate is still in love with his captain, even after it all. Jim can't, and won't take that away from Izzy, not when his life is hanging on by a thread.

"What the fuck!? Get those dirt infested rags out of him!" Jim wanted to yell at whoever said that, but didn't get the chance to when Roach shoved himself into their space, holding a bright white somethings smelling vaguely of something floral.

Frenchie was finally able to get his hands off of Izzy but the contents of the box is still stuck in his chest, turning his arms into stone from the inside out.

"Hey, man, i think you should sit this one out, eh?" Fang? Oh, it's Fang, he realizes, and just like that, It's like Frenchie could breathe again, but the thought of leaving Izzy's side makes it hard to breath again, so he doesn't. "uh, yeah, no, i-im good, yeah..."

Jim hears Izzy's apology, and feels that burning in their bones, to keep Izzy away from Ed, just like he did to them during Ed's tantrums, the only thing stopping them from doing so is knowing that look in Izzy's eyes as he talks to Ed. If- no, no that's not gonna happen-- when Izzy survives this, they're going to make sure to set Izzy straight and make him know that what happened to him was fucked.

After 2 and a half of Stede's towels have been drenched in Izzy's blood, Roach was finally able to stem it from spilling out anymore. Izzy passed out around the middle of doaking the first towel, his pulse was weak, breathing shallow, but he's alive.

Izzy's alive.

idk if i should make a part 2, i have school in, like, 7 hours and i havent slept yet😭

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #Izzy hands #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death

[straightupsickfics]

just literally ed getting snuggles on the couch that's all <3

****

There's a warm press of lips to Ed's forehead, waking him up from an ill-advised, mid-afternoon nap. He hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch after work — he'd just kind of collapsed onto it, a heap of limbs and exhaustion after the day he'd had. His knee would punish him for this later, no doubt about it, but for now...

Well, right now, Stede is home from work himself and looking at him with the crinkly-concerned look he always gets when Ed isn't feeling food. His whole face seems to scrunch up with worry, and it's kind of fucking adorable, if he's being honest.

"Hi, dear," Stede says now, eyes roving over Ed's face. He's pretty sure he looks every bit as sick as he feels, considering that he'd managed to catch the actual plague in what felt like a single day.

"Nhh, hi," Ed replies, voice raspy and tired. He struggles into a sitting position but Stede tsks at him, easing him back down.

"Don't get up on my account," Stede tells him.

Ed frowns. "Slept all fuckin' day, mate. Least I can do i-is..." He pauses, nostrils twitching, and hastily accepts the tissue Stede seems to have pulled out of nowhere before leaning down into it.

"hhh’ISCHih! h’sschUH!” The sneezes rip through him, scraping his throat and leaving him a mess of relentless sniffles, which, right that's what he'd been trying to escape when he laid down in the first place. Fucking endless sneezes.

"Goodness, bless you!" Stede tuts, his face scrunching up again. "When did you get so sick?" He asks, no doubt wondering if there was a sign he missed along the way.

"Hit me like a truck today," Ed explains. His voice already sounds worse, even to his own ears. "Felt a little off this morning, tired, you know, downed a bunch of coffee which didn't help anything. By ten I couldn't stop fucking sneezing, and was dead on my feet by lunchtime. Iz sent me home. Reckon it might be the nicest thing he's ever done," Ed says.

Stede snorts a laugh; he'd never been able to hide his — distaste is putting it mildly — for Ed's oldest friend. It had never been a problem, though, since Izzy himself hated just about everyone.

Ed sneezes again before Stede can make one of his delightfully bitchy comments, though, another set of rough, ticklish Hh!’EHDSSHh! h’dtTISHh! sneezes that nearly knock the wind out of him.

This sets Stede off clucking and cooing at him all over again, fussing with his hair and making sure his forehead isn't too hot. It's nice, Ed can admit as much; almost makes feeling like death warmed over worth it.

"He texted me too, believe it or not," Stede says, setting the tissue box in Ed's lap and nudging himself onto the couch beside Ed. He's a bit like a golden retriever in that way. A lot of ways, really: cuddly, happy, always making room for himself. Ed smiles into his handful of tissues at the realization that his boyfriend is, essentially, the human equivalent of a lap dog.

"Fuck, did he really? Well, I take it back. That might be the nicest thing he's ever done."

"Told me to get home and make sure you hadn't sneezed yourself into a fucking coma. His words," Stede says, wrinkling his nose.

"Two nice things in one day, he must be getting laid," Ed muses, clearing his throat.

He can't help but laugh at the truly horrified look on Stede's face at that information, though it quickly turns into a painful coughing fit.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Ed stops him. "Mm-mm, none of that. No one makes me laugh like you. No taking that away just because I managed to catch the fucking black plague."

Stede's smile is fond. "Well, if you insist."

"I do," Ed promises. A yawn overtakes him before he can say anything else, though, as if he hadn't slept for nearly three hours already. Stede nuzzles a kiss into his cheek.

"Poor Edward, you really do sound sick," he says. "We have that pasta we can reheat for dinner. Soft and warm, good for your throat? Then we can get in bed early."

It sounds perfect, really, but—

"Stede, it's hardly six o'clock," Ed points out.

"You're turning down a night in bed with me? Edward, you wound me."

"You know that's not what I... mmh!"

Stede quiets him with a kiss — as soft and warm as anything else that might be on offer tonight, and Ed can't help but sink into it for a second.

"Careful," Ed says, pulling away, "or you'll end up with this in a few days too. And believe me, you don't want this." Stede is a terrible sick person, always insisting on doing things until he absolutely can't manage it anymore, and Ed has to all but tackle him onto the couch.

He shrugs. "Maybe. But seeing as I don't plan on leaving your side this evening, we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?"

Ed wraps his arms around Stede, tugging him in tight and close against him. "What'd I do to deserve you, hm?"

Stede pretends to think about it as he cards a hand through Ed's hair, making him sigh contentedly, humming at the touch. Ed had never known he could have something as easy as this, let along as sweet. He lets himself bask in it. He'll feel even more like shit tomorrow, he knows, and his knee really will yell at him for all the time on the couch, but he ignores all of that for now.

"None of that," Stede says, interrupting his train of thought. "It's not about deserving, just about love and not wanting to see you feeling so poorly. And a little about getting you all to myself in bed," he smiles.

"Aww, now I can't argue with that logic, now can I?"

"I don't think so, no," Stede says serenely. He kisses Ed again for good measure, sealing the deal.

#of//md #my fic #where did this come from? #idk but i am not questioning writing in any form at this time <3

[bumblingbabooshka]

Even Vulcans have embarrassing pet names their family calls them.

Sekkam: 'Sek' with an affectionate parental suffix

Sek'diwa: Combo of 'Sek' and 'Beloved'

Sa-(kaihan): Combo of 'brother' and 'boss' because he's the eldest and very self-serious/nagging. Elila, 'Leth, Elilela: Playful mispronouncing of Elieth's name. These came about when he was a baby - his siblings would have a hard time with his name. 'izhm, 'iz(zy): Shortening of 'tom'izhm' which means 'annoy'. Siblings-only pet name which their parents disapprove of. Only Varith uses it as an adult. Asilshal, Ashasil: Combos of 'Asil' and 'Darling' 'Sil: Shortening of her name. Only Elieth uses it. Dai(Dai): Stems from 'reldai' which can be interpreted as 'priestess' or 'princess'. Mostly used by grandparents though her siblings sometimes used it as children to mock her. Kai-kan, Varkan: Essentially 'Baby brother' Rithkam: Shortening of 'Varith' with affectionate parental suffix Boshie-bu: 'sick baby' but in a very affectionate tone. Like 'poor thing'

#tuvok's kids #[REDACTED] family shenanigans #Asil #Sek #Varith #Elieth #Tuvok's parental nicknames are 'Tuvokkam' 'Tuvoktoi/om'toi' #because he once tripped with a candle in his hand and accidentally set fire to some very important curtains #Sometimes his father calls him 'tuvok'om' bc it sounds very close to 'tuvokkam' but it isn't <3 teasing your kids is fun and free #bea art tag #st voyager #I'm not a scholar on language I just look up words on vulcan dictionary and frankenstein them together #which I'm sure isn't how language works but hey it sure is fun ain't it #[REDACTED] family photos

[oh-three]

Ahsoka S1E4

What the fuck does "cannibalize wiring" mean?? 😭

"If we can't make the journey to find Ezra, then no one should." Noooooo, my heart, don't say that.

^^^ the following conversation

"Be careful out here." Why are Jedi so ominous 😂

Baylan (and our dear late Ray Stevenson) deserves an award for his crypticness. I love it.

"Sometimes we have to do what's right regardless of our personal feelings." DIDN'T ANAKIN SAY ALMOST EXACTLY THE SAME THING IN AOTC??? SOMEONE CONFIRM PLEASE.

Huyang being smart and punching the lights back out to warn the others.

YES. Sabine will always be Mandalorian no matter how much she gets Jedi-ized. I love that reminder,

Helmet hair!

Huyang, Ahsoka, and Sabine make one amazing trio.

WHY WOULD YOU LET CHOPPER BABYSIT.

I knew Hera wouldn't just stand by and wait.

THE GHOST!!

Ayyyyyy, Carson Teva!

"Faith? I lost that a long time ago." Ooooh, that is deep. No wonder the episode is titled Fallen Jedi.

Awww, poor Marrok doesn't have a cloak to flip off this time 😔

Shots fired.

Marrok over here holding his lightsaber like Maul.

Getting Force Awakens vibes with the trees being cut down.

YES, THE REBELS SOUND EFFECT ON MARROK'S LIGHTSABER.

WAIT. NO.

MARROK COME BACK.

AHSOKA.

WHY.

Why'd you have to slay my guy??? 😭

How many Inquisitors need to die before Dave is satisfied??

Damn right Thrawn'll start a war.

I'd have thought that Baylan would be a more careful fighter, but nope. Ataru. Interesting.

OOP, HE'S THROWING ROCKS NOW.

Oooh, the pan shot focusing on Sabine's helmet though.

She might not be very Force sensitive, Shin, but she does have wrist rockets!

"The final complication is incomplete." Ayyyyy. Rip hand

Whoa, chill, Ahsoka. Sabine's fine. Lost, maybe, but unharmed.

And there she is.

Okayyyy, Ahsoka's going swimming.

I like how they think she's dead Lmao. She's fine.

DON'T LISTEN TO HIM, SABINE. HE'S USING YOU.

COME ON. Please.

But....she's smarter than that???

Why would she give it to him????????

Oh, thank god. Hera.

I don't like this episode (lying)(it's my favorite)

The map has been destroyed and Sabine is a hostage. Good job.

Well, that was interesting.

"I've got a bad feeling." JACEN IS FORCE SENSITIVE.

Poor Huyang. Abandoned.

Ooooh, World Between Worlds??

IT IS THE WORLD BETWEEN WORLDS AYYYYYY

Oh, Anakin, you lifesaver.

WAIT, HE'S TANGIBLE. UH. IS SHE DEAD?

#ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka #ahsoka masterlist