#ivan antics

[literallylovelynosolaire]

YK THE DRILL!!!! 25 DAYS OF FLUFFMAS DAY 18

Day 18: Ivan & Baby

He ties Baby up with Christmas lights instead of rope for a while (LMFBSBSHDHF IM SORRY CHAT)

They did that lipstick trend with the kisses all over Baby's face

These hcs are also lowkey lazy so a song I associate with them:

He's My Man - Luvcat

[mercymornsimpathizer]

an even less exhaustive list of femme literature

since a made of a list of butch lit, I thought it would be nice to make a list of femme writing by (mostly) femme authors as well. books I've read myself in bold; take the rest with a grain of salt. I'd really appreciate additions, especially of fiction!

fiction:

dykette by jenny fran davis

perfume and pain by anna dorn

trash by dorothy allison

all the pretty girls by chandra mayor

femme confidential by nairne holtz

bottle rocket hearts by zoe whittall

nonfiction:

brazen femme: queering feminity ed chloe brushwood rose and anna camilleri

femme: feminists, lesbians, and bad girls ed laura harris and elizabeth crocker

the femme mystique ed leslea newman

out of the closet and nothing to wear by leslea newman

fierce femmes and notorious liars by kai cheng thom

dirty river by leah lakshmi piepzna-samarasinha

s/he by minnie bruce pratt

naked in the promised land by lillian faderman

a restricted country by joan nestle

rust belt femme by raechel anne jolie

my dangerous desires by amber hollibaugh

odd girls and twilight lovers by lillian faderman

another mother tongue by judy grahn

boots of leather, slippers of gold by elizabeth lapovsky and madeline davis

the persistent desire ed joan nestle

persistence: all way butch and femme ed ivan coyote and zena sharman

articles/essays:

our own words by rosza daniel lang/levitsky in e-flux

high femme camp antics by jenny fran davis in la review of books

with gratitude and struggle by nan alamilla boyd in autostraddle

that time I went on a lesbian cruise and blew up my life by shannon keating in buzzfeed

femme-inism by paula austin in colonize this!

[shakingparadigm]

I'm really enjoying these new glimpses of Till where he seems rather calm? Naturally he still has big feelings and expresses them accordingly, but compared to past instances it's a lot less explosive.

Most of Ivan and Till's fights seem to happen when they're younger. This is most likely because they weren't familiar with each other yet and were still at the age where most things were taken at face value. They're still getting used to each other's "strangeness", and that could be the cause for certain misunderstandings.

By the time Ivan started developing his "attractive" persona, he was much more aware of what made Till tick. Instead of toning down on his behavior, he used it to his advantage.

Throughout childhood, all Ivan knew was that if he performed certain actions he would get a response from Till (whether he intended it or not). Their shenanigans were incredibly childish, but they made a prominent impact on Ivan's perspective. His thoughts gradually transitioned from "I didn't know" to "oh. this is what I need to do so that Till will notice me."

Despite maturing a great amount and presenting a princely image to everyone else, Ivan never grew up when it came to Till. He continued to apply the same tactics from childhood just to keep Till's attention.

This is why the Anakt Diaries mention that though Ivan is mature for his age, he acts childishly when he's with Till. It's what he knows best.

As they grew older, they both became more fine-tuned to certain aspects regarding each other. Ivan understood what would get a rise out of Till and began messing with him on purpose, hoping to get a reaction. Unfortunately for him, Till started getting used to it (for the most part).

Despite his rebelliousness and bold expression, Till is timid when it comes to people. He only attacks when provoked, and unfortunately for someone as sensitive as him, that's quite often. Ivan took great joy in poking and prodding at him until they resorted to pulling hairs.

However, an older Till seems much less inclined to attack a pestering Ivan. In fact, he seems to brush it off suprisingly well. Of course he reacts, but he no longer reacts violently.

He goes back to a neutral (probably mildly annoyed, definitely weirded out) state almost immediately afterwards. The important part is that no hands are thrown. At this point, it's been years of Ivan and Till knowing each other. Till has watched Ivan grow from this gloomy little boy to the literal "Prince Charming" of Anakt, yet one thing has always remained the same: Ivan stayed by his side. Whether they like it or not, being close for so long will eventually endear someone to another. Thanks to the Ivan Exposure Therapy (and probably a bit of his own growing maturity), Till isn't so phased by Ivan's antics anymore. At the very least he seems to reply instead of taking full offense, poking fun at Ivan's lack of a birthday instead of just saying no. Older Till seems less irritated and more like he's just exasperated. Familiar, accustomed to Ivan's presence.

@geospiral already made a great post about what Ivan's side of this whole development might have been like. It's really interesting, so I recommend checking it out!

[reomikagekin]

Um so like can you please do alnst x Mafuyu!Reader basically Mafuyu from pjsk

Till x Reader – The Quiet Support

Till was always cautious, unsure of how to approach others, especially those he wasn’t used to being around. But with you, there was a calming presence—one that didn’t demand attention but still made him feel seen.

You didn’t ask for much from him, and you certainly didn’t expect any grand displays of emotion. You simply were there, quietly helping when needed, always considerate of everyone around you.

"You’re... okay, right?" Till asked hesitantly one day, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded softly, your expression remaining neutral as always. "I’m fine. You should rest."

He wanted to push for more, but something about the way you spoke—gentle, but distant—made him stop. You weren’t closed off; you were just... careful with who you let in. And that was okay.He quietly returned to his seat, feeling a strange sense of peace in your presence.

---

Ivan x Reader – The Silent Understanding

Ivan often watched you from a distance, intrigued by how effortlessly you navigated social situations, always there when someone needed help, but never truly engaging with anyone on a deeper level.

You were kind to everyone, yet there was a distance in your eyes that Ivan couldn’t ignore.

"You’re good at pretending," Ivan said one day, his gaze sharp as he caught you helping others without so much as a second thought.

You glanced at him briefly, your tone unchanged. "I’m not pretending. I’m just doing what’s needed."

Ivan was silent for a moment, contemplating your words. There was something about your dispassionate demeanor that caught his attention. You didn’t need validation, didn’t seek connection, but you still cared.

"You don’t let anyone in," Ivan muttered, his tone quieter than usual.

You met his gaze with a neutral expression. "It’s not necessary."

Ivan’s curiosity only deepened. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to understand you more.

---

Luka x Reader – The Calm Before the Storm

Luka didn’t know why he was drawn to you—maybe it was your quiet strength, or perhaps the way you could keep a calm demeanor in even the most intense situations.

You were always helping, always doing for others, but when it came to yourself? You shut off, your emotions hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"You’re always so calm," Luka said one evening, breaking the silence between you. "How do you do it?"

You turned to face him, your expression passive. "I do what’s expected."

Luka didn’t push, sensing that it wasn’t the right time to ask more. But something about the way you spoke—so detached, yet so present—made him feel something he wasn’t used to: an unease he couldn’t shake.

He couldn’t help but wonder if, under all that calmness, there was more you weren’t saying.

---

Dewey x Reader – The Honest Silence

Dewey had a tendency to tease those around him, but with you, he always found himself holding back. You were kind to everyone, but there was an emotional distance that made it hard for him to joke around like he usually would.

"You don’t say much, do you?" Dewey teased one day, watching as you helped a teammate with their task, your expression unchanged.

You didn’t seem offended—just uninterested in engaging with his usual antics. "I speak when it’s necessary," you replied, your tone calm but firm.

Dewey raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Normally, people would be more annoyed by his teasing, but with you? You simply let it slide. There was a strange strength in that, he realized.

"You’re not like anyone else," Dewey said, his smirk faltering slightly.

You simply nodded, offering him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "I’m just doing my part."

---

Isaac x Reader – The Quiet Care

Isaac wasn’t one to get attached to people easily, but something about you intrigued him. You were always kind, always doing your best to help, but there was something in your eyes that told him you didn’t care for the usual flattery or attention.

"You don’t ask for anything in return," Isaac said one day as he watched you quietly assist a teammate.

You paused, your gaze meeting his briefly. "I don’t need anything."

Isaac studied you for a moment, realizing that you were being truthful. You didn’t want praise or recognition; you just acted out of a sense of duty.

"That’s... different," Isaac muttered, feeling an unfamiliar sense of admiration for your selflessness.

You didn’t respond, simply offering a soft nod before returning to your task. And that was enough for him.

---

Jacob x Reader – The Compassionate Observer

Jacob couldn’t help but notice how easy it was for people to rely on you. You were always there, always offering help and advice, but there was an emotional detachment to you that he couldn’t quite figure out.

"You’re always helping others," Jacob said one afternoon, watching you assist a fellow teammate. "But what about yourself?"

You shrugged, your expression neutral as you continued with your task. "I’m fine. I don’t need help."

Jacob tilted his head, not quite understanding. There was kindness in your actions, but it was as if you had no real attachment to any of it.

"I think you do need help," Jacob said, his tone gentle. "But you’re not used to asking for it."

You didn’t respond right away, but after a few moments, you simply nodded. "Maybe."

---

Hyunwoo x Reader – The Calm in the Chaos

Hyunwoo often found himself in awe of how you moved through the world. You were kind, generous, and considerate, always putting others before yourself. But he could see the emotional distance in your eyes—the way you kept your emotions tightly guarded, especially when it came to yourself.

"You’re always so calm," he commented one evening, his voice quiet as he sat beside you. "How do you stay so composed?"

You turned to him, your expression neutral as always. "I don’t let things affect me."

Hyunwoo could tell there was more to your words than just that, but he didn’t press. Instead, he simply stayed by your side, appreciating the quiet comfort you provided.

"If you ever need someone to talk to..." he began, his voice soft.

You gave him a small, almost imperceptible smile. "I’m fine."

And Hyunwoo understood. You didn’t need anyone to fix things for you. You just needed space—and for that, he was more than willing to give it.

---

Mizi x Reader – The Silent Strength

Mizi always seemed like a ball of energy, constantly keeping the mood light with her bright personality and infectious optimism. But when she noticed you—so calm, collected, and distant—it made her pause.

She often found herself trying to engage with you, to get a reaction, but you never gave much away. It was both frustrating and fascinating to her.

"You’re so different," Mizi said one day, laughing as she nudged your arm. "Why are you always so... serious?"

You gave her a soft, almost unreadable smile. "I’m not serious. I’m just doing what’s needed."

Mizi’s face softened at your words, as if trying to read more into them than what you’d given her. She could sense your kindness but also the invisible wall you’d built. She wasn’t upset, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something about you.

"You’re like a... mystery," Mizi said, her voice full of curiosity.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you offered her a brief glance. "I’m just not like everyone else."

Mizi didn’t mind. In fact, she liked it. You had a quiet strength about you that spoke volumes without needing to shout.

---

Sua x Reader – The Silent Presence

Sua was often an enigma to everyone around her, effortlessly blending into the background while still drawing attention with her unexpected actions. She didn’t approach people, yet there was something in the way she watched you that felt different from her usual aloofness.

You were calm, distant, and there was a strange peace in your presence. Sua wasn’t one to engage in idle conversation, but when she found herself sitting next to you during a break, she didn’t move away.

"You’re... weird," Sua remarked suddenly, her tone flat but with a slight edge of amusement.

You turned to her with your usual neutral expression. "I’m not weird. I’m just quiet."

Sua studied you for a moment, her head tilting slightly. She wasn’t offended, not at all. In fact, she was intrigued. There was something about your dispassionate tone that pulled her in.

"You’re always so... unaffected," Sua mused, her voice almost wistful.

You met her gaze, your face still unreadable. "That’s the way things should be."

Sua didn’t push further. She liked the space you gave her, the understanding that was shared between you without any need for words.

---

Hyuna x Reader – The Quiet Resilience

Hyuna was everything loud and bright, full of energy and life. But with you, she found herself holding back, not because she wanted to, but because there was something different about you.

You were generous, always willing to help, but there was an emotional distance that made it hard for Hyuna to get closer, despite her usual touchy and playful nature.

"You’re so calm," Hyuna said one afternoon, smiling as she leaned back against the wall. "Why don’t you let yourself go a little? You’ve gotta enjoy the moment, right?"

You didn’t immediately answer, your gaze distant, almost contemplative. "Enjoyment isn’t something I need."

Hyuna raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sharpness in your voice. She had expected something softer, but your dispassionate response only made her more curious."You care about others," she remarked, her tone softer now. "I can see that. But why not care about yourself too?"

You shrugged lightly, your eyes never quite meeting hers. "I’m fine as I am."

Hyuna didn’t press you further, but something about the way you said those words made her heart ache. She didn’t know what it was, but she felt like you were carrying more than you let on.

"If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here," Hyuna offered, her voice quieter than usual.

You met her gaze for a brief moment and nodded, acknowledging her words. "I know."

[heartz4levi]

ivan dacryphilia smut with dom reader? ❤️ i love ur works

episodic, visionary, hit it like on mission !

☆ thinking abt ivan + dacryphilia . . .

☆ ivan (alnst) ,, gn reader . . sub!ivan ,, dom!reader ,, handjob (ivan receiving) ,, dacryphilia ,, edging (ivan receiving) ,, reader is sadistic if you ask me ,, it took me literal hours to write this cause i kept getting distracted and i feel like i wrote a whole bunch of nothing? feast your eyes upon this.. i guess..

"aw, you cryin'?"

the honeyed tone of your voice was so sickeningly sweet that it only made ivan choke up even more.

here he was, thinking he was about to get a treat. you made him lean back, pressing his back against your chest while your arm snaked around his waist and began to palm at his cock. excitement immediately began to course through his veins and ivan was ready to have you make him feel good.

that was about an hour ago and he hasn't cum once. you've been stroking his cock in slow, tantalizing up and down motions since then, bringing one hand to his nipples and giving them a pinch or a tug from time to time. he has been on the verge of climaxing multiple times, and yet each time he leaned his head back on your shoulder and asked you if he could cum, you said no.

at first, ivan only huffed and puffed. he didn't go against your word though, no, he continued to lay there, all pliant in your arms and allowed you to bring him to the edge once more only to be pulled away, not pushed off.

when you denied him again, he started whining and almost considered turning the tables on you. almost. he ended up letting your antics slide one more time. then one more time, then one more time..

here he is now, with big tears rushing down his handsome face. his jaw clenched in response to your teasing remark, hips bucking upwards in search for even the smallest amount of friction he can get. he's lost count of how many times you've denied his requests to cum by now and, quite frankly, he can't handle it any longer.

"p–please," ivan sobs out. "let me cum, please! pleasepleasepl—"

ivan's words end up getting cut off the moment once your hand resumes its previous actions, no longer keeping your fingers idly wrapped around the base of his cock.

maybe you've finally decided to be good to him, ivan thinks, chest heaving as he feels another orgasm gradually building up. this is the fastest pace you have set yet and that piece of information only sends more blood down to ivan's dick, twitching in anticipation.

your free hand slides upwards, touch ghosting over the juncture in his collarbone before you get a firm hold on his neck. it's firm, but not constricting. you use it to push his head back, inching his face closer to yours. ivan's glossy eyes meet yours and the look he's giving you is the saddest, most desperate one you have ever seen.

it makes you wonder what'll happen to it if you don't give him a taste of mercy.

your warm lips come in contact with ivan's skin, tenderly kissing away the tears streaming down his cheeks as if you haven't been torturing him for about an hour now. in response, he leans into your touch, whimpering at the sudden display of affection. he really is acting like you don't shower him in it as often as you can.

"oh—fuck!" ivan gasps.

you can feel his body growing tense with each passing second. "i'm—'m cumming, hngh! 'm so so close, please let me cum, please.."

the coil in ivan's stomach tightens. it tightens a little more, then it feels like it's about to snap..

and then it's gone. you stopped. again. you didn't even say no first, you just put a halt to your movements — and to think that he begged so nicely for you! ivan thought he was on his best behavior, even if he was writhing a little bit! he let you kiss his tears away and everything.

your heart stings a little when ivan's eyes widen tenfold, surprise and disappointment swirling within them. it's as clear as day — his silent way of asking "why? why would you do that?" — but.. can you really be blamed?

ivan looks oh—so pretty with those pathetic tears tainting his scrunched up face. his pretty cock is leaking, weeping, and he keeps on begging you to let him cum once. you can't help it. you can't help but want to play with him, his cock and his feelings like this.

and you'll do it again, until you're satisfied or until ivan breaks.

[atelieronthemoon]

What would make the Ll's laugh?

Daeho: his dogs and your cute antics

Oliver: himself in a non-narcissistic way

Roman: actual funny jokes (but he thinks dad jokes are funny)

Joseph: catching his daughter doing something silly

Ivan: act goofy

[crustyfloor]

Till's point of view on his and Ivan's relationship - An (personal) analysis of Till's side of things leading up to Round 7.

As kids, IvanTill's relationship was tulmotious, to say the least.

Ivan would do things to rile Till up as a means of getting closer to Till when they were just starting out, and Till would fall for it.

Ivan would steal Till's things and turn around and give it back like some evil Christmas gift as a means of trying to get closer to Till, and Till would fall for that too, for some time.

But we all know Till isn't stupid. Till must've noticed after some time that the constant disappearance of his stuff only to be coincidentally found by Ivan every time wasn't actually a coincidence. And Till, being handled roughly his whole life by aliens naturally wouldn't have been so fond of the way Ivan would constantly instigate fights with him. All of these things that Ivan did, they did irritate Till. In any normal case they would've given all the more reason to avoid Ivan. So why did Till let him linger?

Well, I think Till actually considered Ivan at least a good friend, At least at the start. Ivan was strange, mean, and annoying but he was one of the only people who actually made an effort to stay and get close to Till. To have someone in a world like this would mean a lot to a kid like Till, even though Till and Ivan had their moments he was still the closest person to Till.

Other than that, Till is a high-spirited, compassionate, and emotional character. it's shown in a comic where Ivan and Till spot a crushed flower and Till tells it to cheer up out of sympathy, it's shown in the way Till cares about others around him even if he holds a cold exterior that keeps him from showing his heart often.

This isn't to say Till regarded Ivan because he felt bad for him, he didn't know the first thing about what went on in Ivan's mind. Till allowed Ivan around him because he cared about him enough to look past those aspects, Till is observant enough, so he was able to see that Ivan was just a kid trying. Till indulged Ivan, allowed him to stay because he cared.

And then we have the meteor shower scene. (pain&suffering.exe)

Ivan, motivated by his strong love tries to get Till to escape with him at the perfect moment. Keyword tries. Because they couldn't get far before Till stopped in his tracks and went right back to Anakt Garden, why? fear of the unknown? Of course. But it's because Till wouldn't have been able to live with himself knowing he left behind a person he loved so very dearly, Mizi. He couldn't possibly leave her there, aware of these deep feelings he had for her. He cared too much to leave.

Till probably felt guilty, going back to Anakt garden because it was all in wrong timing, probably felt guilty knowing he disappointed Ivan back there. But imagine just how much guiltier he felt seeing Ivan the next day. He followed Till back knowing there was no way he'd get the chance to escape again. And so this was the first thread of their relationship that was frayed.

After this point, Ivan was under the full assumption that he had been wrong about how he thought Till saw him so he gradually started to distance himself too, Ivan's antics seemed to have mellowed out, as they grew more distant but he still messed with Till, remained in his life in the shadows, and cared about him, becoming gentle when Till was unaware because even then he couldn’t force himself to leave Till’s world even if Till wanted to leave him in favor of a more bright, beautiful paint that permeated Till's dull canvas, that was so much different from his own bland, dark existence.

Till noticed their distance, and Till thought Ivan hated him for leaving him behind, so as a last effort to bring Ivan back to him and fix his relationship with his friend, to let Ivan know he wanted him near, he left him a message on graduation.

"You were the one who stole my pencil at that time right?"

That was in response to Ivan's "I hope you'll remember me" message.

Till's response sounds pretty straightforward, by design. but I read it as an indirect pointing to a direct message; "I know it was you, of course, I'll remember you. I'm not even mad at you for all of it...So come back?" unfortunately for Till, Ivan didn't read it like this because Ivan isn't a simple person, he needed more than Till could give him. So most likely instead Ivan ended up reading the message as Till still not caring this only motivated him to distance them more until they weren't even talking anymore.

And so after everything, round 6 comes. Till has to compete and win against Ivan.

Till went into round 6 with the full intent to kill himself on that stage and let Ivan win. He couldn't continue to live in a world he hated, in a world where he was tormented, was used, and had nothing else to live for. he couldn't continue to live in a world knowing Mizi, his only shining light and goddess was gone, most likely dead.

It's eerie just how close he was to succeeding, but his plan was thrown off as Ivan realized what Till was doing when he stopped singing and interfered before it was too late.

Ivan kisses Till, selfishly furious with emotions, and sentiments that haven't been addressed for years, but gentle in the message Ivan was trying to get across. Ivan chokes Till for the final blow. Till doesn't understand any of it, it's all too fast and it confuses him. it's hard to say what exactly Till was feeling in that moment, but Till doesn't fight back properly because he doesn't want to, he can't bring himself to show that spirit he had anymore, not the one Ivan saw in him when they were kids, that's been drained out of him because of years of the trauma, the torture, the pain, everything. He's tired. He's lost Mizi, and he's lost everything. If he's just meant to be lamb to the slaughter then why should he delay the inevitable fighting for a life he didn't want? So if Ivan was going to kill him in that moment, so be it. He was going to let him.

Only that's not how it goes, as soon as Ivan's hands leave him Till is disoriented. and then he is shocked, confused, worried? because he didn't expect, nor want this either, he didn't ask for this, he didn't ask for Ivan to take away that one thing he wanted. That expression on Ivan's face, he doesn't get it. But it hits him, that this was all a plan.

And at the end of the day, Ivan is dead, and Till is left staring at his peaceful corpse on the ground, with his blood staining his shoes like Ivan's actions are staining, permeating his perspective, giving him more questions and less answers. All while knowing that he is truly alone in this world now. He has been abandoned.

(I go over pencil.exe a little more in another post of mine if anyone is interested in reading keke)

[blank-potato]

Play Too Much

Pairing: Ivan "Vanya" Zakharov x Reader

Summary:

Feeling your job is done, you move to leave, but just as you turn, a hand clasps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Stay,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, almost unsure. His arms wrap around you without warning, pulling you onto the bed with him. You let out a surprised gasp as you tumble down, landing on top of him. He buries his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply. Or You're taking care of him when he's drunk, and he tells you what you've been wanting to hear.

A/N: He's not really toxic in this fic, he's cutesy 'first half of the movie' Vanya not 'second half of the movie' Vanya. Also title from Play Too Much by Duckwrth, Kyle Dion, and UMI because it's a vibe

ᯓ★ᯓ★ᯓ★

“We can't stay here…”

“No mne udobno (But I’m comfortable),” Vanya whines back as he rests his head against your leg.

You were used to his rich boy antics by now. You had been his friend since the first time he came to America, and whenever he’d come back, he'd be sure to make a mess of your life. Taking you out to extravagant parties, dragging you into exclusive clubs you had no business being in, and splurging on things neither of you needed just because he could.

And of course, drinking himself silly, leaving you to take care of him by keeping his hair out of his eyes when he was throwing up his guts, making sure he didn’t end up in some stranger’s bed, and, more often than not, half-carrying him back to his mansion while he slurred half-apologies in your ear.

And now Ivan Zakharov, son of one of the most powerful families in Russia, in all his glory,  was drunk on the floor of a private room in a strip club. You apologise profusely to the dancer as you drag him out of the club, his weight pressing heavily against you. He’s barely coherent, mumbling something about another round of drinks while you struggle to keep him upright.

Helping him lean on you, you half-carry, half-drag him toward your car, his feet stumbling over themselves. Manhandling him into your car and driving back to his mansion, you barely get a moment of peace.

The drive back is anything but peaceful. You all but die of embarrassment when he rolls down the window, sticking his head out like a dog, the wind whipping through his hair as he laughs loudly.

"Vanya, get back inside!" you snap, trying to keep one hand on the wheel and another ready to grab him if he tries anything crazy.

"Relax, just… have fun," he drawls, grinning lazily.

You kept your eye on him to make sure he didn’t fly out the window or get himself into some other ridiculous trouble. The wind ruffled his hair as he leaned back, laughing without a care in the world, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but find him endearing.

His way of life—reckless, impulsive, and full of indulgence—was so different from yours. How he saw the world was almost childlike, simple in a way that made you jealous sometimes. His parents were always on his back about responsibility, about carrying the weight of his family's name, but he never seemed to care, or at least it didn’t show. 

You had to enjoy your time with him because you didn’t know how much you’d have left. Any day now, he’d be going back to Russia to join the family business, and who knew when, or if, he’d ever come back. So, for now, you let him pull you into his world of late-night adventures, overpriced alcohol, and reckless coke consumption, knowing it couldn’t last forever.

After many trials and tribulations, including almost falling down two sets of stairs with him, you finally managed to get him back to his room. You felt like you’d run a marathon, your muscles aching from practically dragging him along.

“You’re a terrible drunk,” you muttered, tossing his shoes off the bed.

“And you,” he slurred with a lazy grin, “are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but deep down, you knew you’d miss this. Making your way over to his closet, you sifted through his neatly folded clothes, searching for something comfortable for him to sleep in. Behind you, he was mumbling and groaning, half-drifting off but still making a show of his drunken suffering.

You make your way back over to him and pull him up to a sitting position, his expression blissed out and dazed. You suppose he got a good dance at the club, his shirt slightly rumpled, his hair a mess, and a lazy grin plastered across his face.

“You have fun?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He sighs dramatically, flopping against you and resting his forehead against your stomach. “Mmm… best night of my life.”

“Arms up,” you instructed, holding out a soft T-shirt. “You can’t sleep in these.”

With exaggerated effort, he lifted his arms, and you helped him out of his wrinkled button-down, sliding the fresh shirt over his head. As you adjusted the fabric, smoothing it down over his chest, you realised he was staring at you, an almost unnerving amount of eye contact for someone who was supposed to be half-asleep.

“You’re pretty,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost serious.

He always did things like this—slurring out compliments, brushing your hair behind your ear, flirting with you like it was just second nature to him. And even though it had happened a million times before, it still made your heart flutter.

“Very kind of you, Vanya.”

You continue taking care of him with practiced ease, experience guiding your hands. Once he’s dressed in warm, comfortable pajamas, you set a glass of water and painkillers on the nightstand, making sure everything he might need is within reach.

Feeling your job is done, you move to leave, but just as you turn, a hand clasps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Stay,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, almost unsure.

His arms wrap around you without warning, pulling you onto the bed with him. You let out a surprised gasp as you tumble down, landing on top of him. He buries his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply.

“Vanya, I shouldn’t–”

“Smells good,” he interrupts sleepily, his breath warm against your skin. You roll your eyes as he buries his face in your neck, like he was trying to disappear into you, like he belonged there. Then he says something that nearly makes your heart stop.

“I think… I love you.”

 He pulls back, his eyes alight with something dangerous, a glint that makes your heart race. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he meant it. You’d die if he did, simply keel over and die of happiness.

“You're drunk,” you chuckle, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse is already quickening.

“Ya tebya lyublyu (I love you),” he whispers, the words soft but no less impactful, like a secret only he could share with you.

He chuckles, cupping your face in his hands, pressing soft kisses all over your face. He nuzzles against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. In the silence that follows, he looks at you, the cogs in his drunk mind turning slowly.

“Let’s make babies.”

“Vanya!” You smack his chest playfully, and he dramatically clutches the spot where you hit him.

“I joke… I’m joking… a little,” he adds with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling despite the alcohol.

“I do love you,” he murmurs, resting his head against your stomach, his cheek gently pressed against your skin, eyes soft as they look up at you. His fingers lightly trace the outline of your waist, the weight of his words lingering between you, earnest and vulnerable.

“That's just a word you say, Vanya.”

“Why not…” he pauses to hiccup, then shifts slightly, his eyes more serious, “Why don’t you believe me?” He says, correcting himself.

“Because if you do…it’ll hurt so much more when you leave.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

“Then I’ll never leave,” he replies simply, like it’s the easiest promise in the world to make. Like he’s not expected to return to a life waiting for him an ocean away. Like he truly believes he can stay.

You brush his hair with your fingers and really wonder whether he’ll even remember what he said in the morning, but for now, you choose to hold onto this moment, to believe that even if the words are fleeting, there might be some part of him that truly feels that way.

“Oh yeah? You’ll marry me?”

He nods, his smile a little lopsided but sincere, “I’ll get you the biggest ring in… the world.”

“The world?”

“The world.”

You laugh together, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room, and he pulls you closer, wrapping himself up in you like you were his favourite blanket. His words slowly fade into mumbles, and those mumbles turn to snores. Even if he’s just playing around and laughs it off in the morning, you can’t help but feel a warmth bloom in your chest. You know that even if he left tomorrow and you never saw him again, you’d still have this drunken night with him.

Masterlist

[geospiral]

A little bit ago, I remember seeing people trying to figure out why Till didn’t start a fight with Ivan in the scene where Ivan is touching the cut on his cheek, and honestly, I think that this Friday’s comic confirmed the conclusion that a lot of people had come too. As they got older, it seems that Till just got used to Ivan’s antics and accepted that this is just who Ivan is as a person. 

Now I’m not sure if Ivan necessarily liked this change given that he acts out specifically so he can get Till’s attention, enjoying seeing the big reactions that Till gives him in response, but it does seem that Ivan mellows out at least a bit as he gets older (not to say that he still doesn't do weird things, just that his moments of egregious behavior seem to have become a bit less common). This might be a direct result of Ivan not being able to cause such strong outbursts from Till anymore, causing Ivan to sink further into the "oh, he really doesn’t care about me” mindset, which I can see happening especially in instances where Till decides to ignore him entirely instead of humoring him (like with the touching the cut on the cheek scene).

[pendogcreative]

The creation of syndicated newspaper artist Lewis Pardain, Lancer the Paper Fiend was an icon of the early twenties to late forties. Created during Pardains employment at the Kellbridge Chronicle the comics, titled "Lancer in the Inkwell," would revolve around Lancers interactions with the reader, the space around him, and the text speech bubbles and borders of the comic. It was a very meta fourth wall breaking comic strip and fairly well regarded by readers for its funny inventive usage of the medium.

Lancers personality in these comics could be described as a very curious but easily irritated/pestered character that would often 'fight' with the reader/artist. He was a strong headed character that often employed physical violence to get what he wanted, and would often erupt into angry blobs of text that covered the page.

In one of his most well known strips, he took a pin, stabbed the wall behind him, and words featured in that day's paper poured into the room. It was gags like these that drew fans to buy the paper just for Lancers antics.

When Pardain left Kellbridge chronicle to help build up the fledgling Liquid Laff Pictures with close friend Ivan Hoth, several other artists would attempt to fill the role of drawing for Lancer and the Inkwell.

However, due to various personal work and life related issues, these replacements tended to quit within one to two months.

The comics were notably never quite the same following Pardains departure, as they were lacking the inventive fourth wall breaking they were once known for and within two years the comic ended its run.

Read more at

[ashen-char]

stupidly smiling at the idea of reader and anora rewatching cinderella for the 3rd weekend in a row, reader's not complaining tho, they love to hear anora whisper the lines and sing along to the songs while her eyes are shining like little stars during her favourite scenes.

and yes, reader would spend WEEKS of their time looking up jewellers who could do a better job than pandora did, no offense. also small jewellers, they want to help small businesses to grow and feel like it would better.

the jasmine one made me so mad, she's one of my favourite princesses, like how can you fucked it up so bad? if they didn't want to watch the movies they could do a survey so the public could answer and they wouldn't fuck it up! actually, me being mad at what they did to jamine's and tiana's rings was what made me think about anora going on a rant about how they did the princesses dirty, especially cinderella. she would cross her arms and pout at the end of her rant, because the ring is gorgeous and she would love to have it but they ruined it for her.

(baby mikey at end of answer god i sob 😭)

i personally love the way ppl get about their favourite movies. knowing every line, getting the songs stuck in their head. or when u remember one of the songs and have this URGE to watch the movie again. you just KNOW anora’s eyes are locked on the screen, wide and gleaming when the first notes of “a dream is a wish your heart makes” begin to play. (weird tangent but i love the sabrina carpenter cover of it)

her lips move almost imperceptibly at first, whispering along with cinderella’s soft melody. as if she thinks you'd make fun of her for how hyped she is about it? i imagine the first time you watch it with her would be after a few dates, as ani is getting comfortable with you. but by the time the mice start their antics, she’s fully immersed, mouthing each word by instinct. can't help it.

and you know reader wouldn't mind. in fact, they’d watch this movie every single weekend if it meant getting to see anora like this - completely entranced, swept up in the magic of it all. like ivan says, sometimes the way she talks and acts makes her seem older than her years. and seeing her so hopeful? almost childlike? you can fully imagine how little ani watched this movie over and over as a kid. maybe toddled over to her parents well-worn CD in hand begging to watch this again.

because that's who pandora really disappointed w their lack of research! the little girl that lives in her, that ani makes her money in order to indulge. and she woulda been looking forward to those rings,,,

[sittiytaart]

I feel like Sua's sisters also impacted how Sua see a family dynamic ngl. Anyhow, my take on IvanSua Siblingism:

Ivan will always care more about Sua than she ever will for him, but it's a bit complicated and a lot of it is just vibes coming from my own perspective with my disconnect between me and my older brother

I imagine sometimes she reflects how her own big sister acted to her with Ivan, as his own — sort one-sided but technically not really — big sister. It's not as warm or biting

Ivan tends to devalue how much he matters to people, to be an all watching onlooker like his eyes. He has some words about Sua willingly going to sacrifice herself even knowing it would traumatize Mizi, especially since he envies how their love is fullt requited and so tender [Also a smidge of him not wanting her to DIE]. But he wishes he was nicer to her before she died

It's just a messy unspoken relationship, to be acquainted with someone so far away from you yet sometimes you see them step their toes unto being familiar with you is appalling and well a target for caution. Plus she don't like how he speaks to her and how he's highkey kinda annoying too

The idea of siblings and family to Sua is so dullied due her sister's bullying her. So her having that kind of relationship with Ivan is so impossible and a all consuming tide that is left unattended due to their personalities and how they were brought up

The only semi-cute hc I have is if Ivan stopped bothering her for a while she'd at first be relieved but eventually feel like something is very missing and wrong. When Ivan returns to his normal antics she'd sigh both a sigh of relief and "here we go again" wondering why the hell she was bothered by it at all for that short moment of peace

I might add more to this but this is all I can say about it until I can figure out, since they kinda sit next to eachother and most of the turmoil of their relationship is going on their minds

[ilcontephotography]

25th May sport centre, by Ivan Antic (1973).

Belgrade, Serbia.

© Roberto Conte (2024)

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[reomikagekin]

could you do a Ivan x sunshine fem reader?

Bright Like You

Ivan had always been the center of attention, whether he wanted to be or not. His voice, his presence—everything about him seemed untouchable, like a star too distant to grasp. He smiled at everyone, laughed at Till’s antics, and carried himself with an effortless charm. Yet, despite the warmth he projected, no one ever got close enough to see if it was real.

Except for you.

You weren’t afraid of him. You weren’t intimidated by his perfection. You treated him like he was just Ivan, not some unreachable idol. It both baffled and fascinated him.

“Hey, Ivan!” You beamed, skipping up to him with an almost blinding energy. “Guess what?”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “What?”

“I brought snacks! And you have to try them.”

Before he could protest, you shoved a bag of sweets into his hands, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Ivan couldn’t help but chuckle. You were always like this—bright, unshakable, and full of surprises. It was a kind of warmth he wasn’t used to, but it was… nice.

“You really think I have time to snack?” he teased, tilting his head. “I am a very busy and important star, you know.”

“You’re also a person, and people need breaks,” you countered, hands on your hips. “Now, eat!”

Ivan sighed dramatically but popped a candy into his mouth. The sweetness melted on his tongue, and for a moment, the ever-present weight of perfection eased. You watched him expectantly, eyes shining.

“Well?”

He smiled—not the polite, practiced kind he gave everyone else, but something softer, something real.

“It’s good,” he admitted.

Your entire face lit up, and Ivan swore his heart stuttered.

“See? I knew you’d like it! I’ll bring more next time.”

And just like that, you were gone, off to spread your sunshine elsewhere. Ivan watched you go, fingers still curled around the bag of sweets, warmth lingering in his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind being caught in your light.

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Too Soft to be a Pirate

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Chapter 4 of a series, but I think this one can be read by itself. <3

Summary: Blackbeard invades Stede Bonnet's ship. It follows along with the chaos of season 1 episode 4. When the reader thinks they're facing death they decide to shoot their shot with Izzy.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

{Next Chapter}

Chapter 4: Discomfort in a Married State

Among all the pirate ships you’d encountered in your time sailing with Blackbeard, Stede Bonnet’s ship stood out as the most unique. The ship's cabins were stocked with an assortment of knick-knacks and exquisite china. The majority of your morning was devoted to wandering the ship, discovering its hidden treasures. 

Stede Bonnet’s crew had been assembled on the deck, currently enduring the wrath of Izzy Hands. Recognizing that you would soon be drawn into the chaos, you took a moment to enjoy the temporary peace. You stumbled upon Fang fixated on one of the cabinets. The shelves were lined with a spectacle of intricately decorated tea cups resting on saucers. 

“I like these!” Fang whispered to you as you joined him, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Look at all the pretty little flowers painted on them”. 

“I like them too,” you responded smiling, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. 

Fang had an intimidating presence upon first glance. His stature was imposing, and he was a skilled fighter, capable of unleashing fierceness when he needed to. Yet, the Fang you had come to know was surprisingly gentle and sensitive. He was like a colossal teddy bear–a teddy bear with the potential to be lethal, but over the year of knowing him, you couldn’t help but grow more fond of his sensitive side. 

Ivan found both you and Fang, each holding a teacup close to your faces, thoroughly examining every little detail on the delicate glass. Ivan joined you in examining the teacups for a while before letting you know that Izzy had summoned everyone to the deck. You followed behind Fang and Ivan, joining Bonnet’s crew just as one of the men remarked that he expected Blackbeard to be taller. Fang delivered a solid whack to Black Pete’s stomach, earning a swift reprimand from Blackbeard.

As Blackbeard delivered his opening speech to Bonnet’s crew, your attention was fixed on the first mate. Izzy appeared exhausted from the unfolding situation, a stark contrast to Blackbeard’s seemingly joyful mood. It didn’t take long for Izzy to grow tired of his captain’s antics, prompting him to demand that everyone return to work. You empathized with Izzy. Managing the entire crew while navigating Blackbeard’s unpredictable moods seemed like a challenge. Izzy worked hard to ensure everyone’s safety, but it seemed like no one ever really acknowledged his efforts.   

Blackbeard retreated to Stede Bonnet’s cabin, and the remaining crew members from the Queen Anne’s Revenge dispersed to attend to other tasks aboard the ship. You observed Frenchie struggling to free his sleeve from a nail, realizing he inadvertently hammered his jacket to the deck. Taking a seat beside him, you grabbed the hammer and attempted to pry the nail from the wood, working to free Frenchie. Since you boarded his ship, you hadn’t had the chance to speak with him yet. 

“Your part of Blackbeard's crew then? I think that is fairly badass”, Frenchie remarked, casting a curious glance in your direction. Fortunately, Frenchie didn’t seem upset that you had failed to mention that on your first encounter. 

You smiled back at him, having successfully liberated his jacket from the dock. 

“Do you think we’re gonna be able to live or die?” Frenchie whispered nervously. 

“I think you’ll live,” you responded, contemplating your captain’s demeanor. “Blackbeard seems to be in a good mood, and he’s spending a lot of time taking care of your captain.”

You both chatted and shared laughs as you worked together to repair the dock. Frenchie pointed out his crewmates, offering a name and brief description for each of them. As you conversed with Frenchie, you failed to notice that Izzy had returned to the quarterdeck, and was shooting daggers in your direction. You finally noticed Izzy’s presence on deck as Buttons handed him a spyglass to gaze out at the sea. This led to Izzy cursing repeatedly as he headed in your direction. 

“Get up,” he said, seizing your arm and lifting you to stand. “You’re coming with me to find Blackbeard.” He shot a glare at Frenchie as he led you away, grumbling, “Do your own fucking work, you useless twat.” 

You and Izzy commenced the search for your captain in silence, scouring the ship. With each room you explored, you could sense Izzy’s impatience and anger escalating. “You shouldn’t be conversing or helping Bonnet’s crew,” Izzy huffed, breaking the silence. “We’ve invaded them. It’s beyond me why you’d choose to engage with their bunch when you have competent people on your crew you could talk to.” 

“Sorry, sir,” you replied genuinely, not wanting to further aggravate Izzy. 

Entering Stede’s cabin, you found it vacant. “Edward, are you in here?” Izzy called out into the empty room. 

“Why do you need to find him? What’s going on?” you inquired of Izzy. 

“The Spanish are approaching, and if we don’t come up with a plan soon we’re going to die”, Izzy spat. 

“Blackbeard has a plan though, right? He always has a plan,” you said with a tinge of fear in your voice. 

“Yes. Blackbeard always has a plan, but whoever the fuck we’re dealing with as of late is not Blackbeard”, Izzy responded with disdain. “I don’t know who that twat is.” 

Fang and Ivan quickly joined the search around the ship. Upon entering the galley, you found Bonnet’s crew enjoying a meal. Izzy was visibly displeased by this scene, and it resulted in another slap on the back of Black Pete’s head. Your three crewmates exited as quickly as they entered, and you lingered a bit longer in the galley, creating a buffer for yourself from the irate Izzy. 

“Alls I know is women are bad luck on ships. Historically”, Black Pete continued their previous conversation once he had seen the men leave. 

“That’s a myth!” Jim shot back, glaring at Pete. 

“Jim’s right!” you chimed in. “Haven’t you heard of Anne Bonny or Mary Read?” 

All eyes turned toward you in surprise as you entered the conversation. 

“Two legendary pirates, and both of them were women,” you said decisively. 

“I’m glad someone on this ship has some sense.” Jim exclaimed, giving you a nod of approval. 

You swiftly left to catch up with Izzy as the crew’s argument continued. You didn’t want the first mate to catch you fraternizing with the others again. As you were departing, you heard Frenchie begin explaining the science behind why women attract demons. 

You caught up with Izzy and the search to find Blackbeard persisted until he ultimately threw in the towel. You stood on the deck with Ivan and Fang as Bonnet’s crew carried on with their tasks on the ship. Out of the blue, Blackbeard emerged from the captain’s cabin, donned in a stylish pair of pink trousers and a billowy white shirt. Blackbeard made a dancing motion, moving the oversized sleeves of his shirt back and forth. Glancing at Ivan and Fang beside you, they appeared utterly stunned. 

As you attempted to recover from the initial shock of seeing Blackbeard in fancy attire, Stede appeared wearing Blackbeard’s leather. You glanced at Izzy in that moment, observing the veins bulging on his forehead. This was an entirely new level of anger for him. You noticed Izzy engaging in a conversation with your captain, and they temporarily stepped away. You watched as Bonnet’s crew lined up to greet him. Blackbeard’s clothes looked out of place on Stede. After a while you witnessed Izzy making a beeline towards Captain Bonnet, forcefully dragging him past you and down below the deck. Ivan and Fang followed closely behind. 

Blackbeard nonchalantly followed the group, then paused to flash you a cocky smile. “Hey, little mouse,” he grinned.  

“Stede Bonnet suits you,” you smiled back, pointing to his new outfit. 

“I agree,” he said, giving a little twirl before descending below deck. 

Once Blackbeard descended the stairs, the fog began to set in, prompting Black Pete to declare your captain a genius. You sighed in relief, rolling your eyes as you realized Blackbeard had likely been causing Izzy stress for his own entertainment. Blackbeard took great delight in unveiling the plan he had orchestrated all along, and you watched him putting on a show for all the new faces on the ship. When Izzy pointed out he had the date wrong, the mood quickly shifted. Blackbeard declared death was imminent before wandering back to Stede’s cabin declaring he was going to get drunk. 

For a moment, the entire crew froze on deck, confusion painted on their faces. You observed as each crew member slowly dispersed, heading toward what they wanted to do or who they wanted to spend their last moments with. Seeking solace, you went and sat on the stairs leading up to the quarterdeck, pondering various thoughts in your head. 

Fang found you there and joined you, sipping from a teacup. Ivan quickly followed, leaning against the banister. It wasn’t surprising that Fang and Ivan would want to spend their last moments together. Their deep connection and care for each other was clear since the moment you first met them. 

“What are you drinking, Fang?” you asked, smiling at his cup of choice. 

“Rum!” Fang giggled. “It tastes even better from this cup.” 

“Very fancy!” you replied in a playful tone. 

Your attention shifted to Izzy, leaving the deck and returning with the rum bottle you had given him. He slowly paced towards the bow of the ship, looking defeated, and then disappeared. Fang watched you as you observed Izzy. 

“You should let that little angry man know how you feel,” Fang suggested gently. 

You shot Fang a look, but did not respond. That suggestion was so ridiculous it didn’t deserve a response.  

Ivan tapped his foot against yours to get your attention before speaking. “He’s right, you know. What do you have to lose?” 

“My life, Ivan,” you replied, looking at both men with wide eyes. “I fully believe if I tried to talk about my feelings with Izzy he would stab me.” 

Fang rested his hand on your knee and squeezed lovingly. “If you don’t tell him now, you might never get to. The likelihood of death is high either way,” Fang teased softly. 

“Come on!” Ivan exclaimed, grabbing your hand and lifting you from your seated position. “We want what’s best for you, pip-squeak. It’s obvious you want to talk to him.” 

You stopped to look at both men for a second. Your heart swelled in your chest, and you kissed them both on the cheek. “Thank you for always looking after me,” you whispered before heading toward the bow. 

You discovered Izzy seated against the wall, his feet stretched out as he gazed at the ocean. 

“Hey, Izzy,” you said quietly, feeling your heart pound against your chest. “Can I join you?” 

Izzy didn’t verbally reply but shifted over, leaving enough space for you to sit on the floor next to him. There wasn’t much room on the bow’s deck, but you weren’t complaining. You settled down beside him, feeling one of your legs firmly press against his in the confined space. He glanced at you for a moment before offering the bottle of rum he was holding. 

“You got me this, so it’s only fair for me to share,” he said gruffly. 

Taking a sip, you felt the alcohol burn as it traveled from your throat to your stomach, warming you up inside and providing a momentary distraction. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to die on a ship with a fucking unicorn as it’s figurehead,” Izzy uttered in disbelief. 

“I like that it’s a unicorn”, you replied sweetly. 

“Why? Because it’s pretty?” Izzy replied, his tone condescending. 

Disregarding his comment, you continued speaking. “It was just my mom and me growing up, and she always told me stories about unicorns,” you said, your gaze fixed on the figurehead. “There’s a legend that their horns can purify poisoned water. I like the idea that even something that’s been poisoned can undergo transformation with the touch of the right creature.” You paused for a second, anticipating a sarcastic comment from the first mate. However, when he remained silent, you continued. 

“They’re often described in myths as proud, fiercely independent, and powerful creatures,” you smiled, recognizing that you were also describing the man sitting next to you. “I used to tell my mom that one day I was going to catch one. But, I’ve come to realize that maybe creatures like that are meant to be admired from afar. Being able to witness their beauty is enough.” 

You turned toward Izzy to discover him gazing at you, as if attempting to unravel a mystery. Taking one final sip from the bottle of rum, you handed it back to him. “Unicorns are also really pretty,” you said as you offered a teasing smile. Izzy returned your smile, the warmth in his eyes devoid of any smugness, as if sharing a genuine moment of connection. 

A moment of silence lingered before you spoke again. “If I ask you a question, Izzy, do you promise not to stab me?” 

“Depends on the question. Ask at your own risk.” Izzy responded with a wry smile. 

“Why are you still sailing with Blackbeard? I know he’s a legend, but it seems like he takes great pleasure in tormenting you,” you asked hesitantly. 

You observed Izzy take a deep breath before responding. “Edward and I built a legacy together. He’s brilliant and one of the best sailors I’ve ever met. It’s my duty as first mate to watch out for him. I owe him that. That’s why I’ve stayed by his side for so long, despite his recent descent into insanity.” 

“It’s just that you’re always looking out for Blackbeard and the rest of the crew, but who’s looking out for you?” you said, peering into his eyes. 

He locked eyes with you and whispered, “I don’t need anyone taking care of me.” 

"I think you do." you said leaning in closer, your voice gentle yet firm. 

Izzy fixed his gaze on you, as if deep in contemplation. 

A strand of hair danced across your face with the wind. Izzy delicately used his fingers to tuck it behind your ear, resting his thumb against your face. You leaned into his touch, and as you did, you noticed his eyes look down towards your lips. He refocused his gaze on yours, and you inched closer, your eyes now dropping to his lips. In an instant, Izzy’s lips met yours. 

Izzy’s kiss was slow and tender. His lips, soft and tasting of the lingering rum you both had shared. Time seemed to pause as you lost yourself in the moment, feeling the warmth of his touch. The kiss deepened, evolving into a desperate exchange, as if you both had been waiting an eternity to be enveloped in each other’s embrace. Izzy, with an urgency, pulled you onto his lap, your knees resting on either side of his extended legs. His hands firmly grabbing your waist, drawing you in even closer. Your arms found their way around his neck, and your hands rested entangled in Izzy’s hair.

“Izzy! Where are you?” Blackbeard’s voice echoed across the ship. “We need to be a lighthouse!” he yelled. 

Izzy abruptly halted the kiss upon hearing his captain’s voice. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes briefly. With a reluctant sigh, he gently moved you off his lap and stood up, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders. As he walked back towards the deck a mixture of frustration and resignation played across his features. 

“Fuck!” you whispered, frustration echoing in your voice as you laid back on the deck where Izzy had left you. With a sigh, you covered your face with your hands, trying to process the abrupt interruption. The cool wood beneath you provided a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered from your stolen moment with the first mate. 

Upon returning to the deck, Izzy was nowhere to be found, and a mirror was being hoisted onto the top of the mast. The rest of the crew stood towards the edge of the ship, staring out into the ocean. You squeezed your way in between Ivan and Fang, purposefully avoiding eye contact with them. You zoned out for a while, but the world snapped back into focus as you were enveloped in a hug by Fang and Ivan. “It worked,” Ivan whispered with excitement. 

As the chaos gradually died down, you decided to look for Izzy and guessed he was hiding in his cabin. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

In his cabin, Izzy moved with a sense of urgency, hastily stuffing his belongings into bags. The decision was made - he couldn’t stay on this ship any longer. He had given Blackbeard his resignation along with his two middle fingers and called him a twat. If he had a choice on who to spend his last night on earth with, Izzy would have undoubtedly chosen Ed. However, Edward had opted for Stede Fucking Bonnet, adding an extra layer of frustration to the already complex emotions Izzy was grappling with. He loved Edward, but he hated whoever this man was, posing as him. 

The kiss Izzy shared with you weighed heavily on his conscience. It was a moment of weakness, a brief escape from the looming threat of death.  He had allowed himself something soft and nice that he didn’t deserve. Deep down, Izzy felt undeserving of any affection from you. In his eyes, no one on this ship deserved you, especially not a group of pirates. He hated that you were a pirate. You were too pure for that. You had a sweetness like no one else he had ever met. He wanted to taste it when he thought there would be no consequences. The fact that life would continue complicated things. 

Izzy was well aware that the kiss meant nothing to you. He understood that people sought comfort in moments of impending death, trying to ease the overwhelming fear of the end. 

Izzy’s thoughts were abruptly halted by the sound of a knock on his cabin door. 

“Izzy?” your voice called out, causing an unexpected tightness in his chest. “Can we talk?” 

Izzy wordlessly swung the door open to welcome you in, but deliberately avoided meeting your eyes. He remained focused on the task of packing his belongings. 

“Where are you going, Izzy?” you inquired, your voice carrying a quiet concern that echoed in the confined space of the cabin. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning. There are things I did and said tonight that I regret,” Izzy confessed, his words hanging in the air. 

Had Izzy been observing you, he would have noticed the profound pain etched across your features in response to those words. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone about what happened between us, Izzy,” you assured, your voice carrying a tone of sincerity. 

“It’s more than just about you,” Izzy responded. 

“Why did you kiss me?” you asked, seeking some answers from Izzy. 

“Oh, fuck off. It’s the same reason you kissed me back. A distraction. Nothing more,” Izzy retorted, dismissing the question. 

“Got it,” you replied in a hushed tone, walking away from his cabin. 

When Izzy finally looked up, he realized you were no longer there. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

You briskly walked away from the first mate’s cabin, making your way to the familiar spot on the stairs. It was there that the first tear escaped, followed by a cascade of emotions that manifested in silent sobs. Hastily, you brushed the tears away, determined not to attract any unwanted attention. You settled into a quiet moment, resting your head on your knees, listening to the rhythmic sound of waves caressing the side of the ship. 

“Hey, friend,” a gentle voice reached out to you as a hand softly nuzzled your hair. 

You glanced up to discover fang standing before you, with a sheepish look on his face. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he inquired. 

You responded with a subtle shake of your head, maintaining silence. Returning your forehead to your knees, you sense Fang settling on the stair beside you, his hand gently rubbing your back in a soothing rhythm. He stayed next to you for quite a while. 

A large part of you dreaded Izzy’s departure, but a small part of you wondered if distance would be the best thing for him. You had a feeling Edward wasn't finished with Stede Bonnet yet, and you knew Izzy would likely continue getting hurt. 

As your thoughts continued to race, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep, so you decided to just stay on deck watching the waves. With the first rays of dawn, you witnessed Izzy assembling his dinghy, ready to part ways. Edward hopped down from the mast, engaging in a conversation with his first mate. You were too far away to hear what they were saying. 

The exchange concluded with Izzy calling out to Edward, a fond smile gracing his face. “You still got it,” he remarked, loud enough for you to catch. 

"I know.", Edward replied before turning towards you. In that fleeting moment, you detected a subtle change in his demeanor - a fleeting hardness in his eyes as he thought he was unobserved. His attention, however, quickly shifted to you as he approached. 

"He's staying around, little mouse. Don't you worry.", Edward assured, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he ascended the stairs towards the ship’s helm. 

Forcing a smile in response, you felt a pang of sadness within you. Edward, consumed by his own thoughts, didn’t register your expression. The familiar look on Izzy’s face as he watched Blackbeard walk away told a story you knew too well. He was always going to choose Edward. While you couldn’t blame Izzy for succumbing once again to Edward’s persuasive nature, it didn’t make the situation any less heartbreaking. The legendary Blackbeard was a force that you, with all your sincerity and affection, could never rival. Edward would remain an anchor for Izzy, his heart forever tethered to him.

{Next Chapter}

[namelessprayers]

"if you were truly sorry, then you wouldn't have to convince me of it, would you?" confronted till with his fists balled at his sides the first instance that the world allowed it to occur.

he had been lingering on ivan's noncommittal excuse of an apology for the last week and it had effectively simmered in a couple more layers of indignation for the worse. in till's mind, ivan owed him at least a proper explanation and perhaps a few favors along with it.

"say something, idiot, don't just look past me when i'm right in front of you." continued till, having noticed the bordering blankness that seemed to dawn on ivan's face as he receded into deep thought.

"i'm sorry." eventually responded ivan. then after a terse pause that must've shown blatant distaste on till's face, he decided to tack on an extra mutter with a slight bow of his head. "i mean it."

being prepared to fight over forgive, till settled in between for forgetting and promptly storming off seething in 'whatever' hissed through his teeth. next time, till swore to either give up on ivan for good or punch him square in the jaw.

both would be cathartic enough to partially satiate till's conflicting feelings about ivan for maybe a month.

======

till met ivan by complete coincidence and still indeterminably fateful chance. it was absolutely nothing to do with the fact that till hadn't had any real friends since the second grade or that he was notably but tolerably lonely wandering by himself after school finished.

it was an odd day, mostly due to till's succession of questionably unsound decisions to not go home immediately and to instead loiter behind private property. he didn't trespass, or he didn't used to, because it risked his mother finding out a few key things about a) his lack of friends and b) his general restlessness in life.

he had scoped out the area before sitting down on the ledge of a lowered billboard which had an advertisement half ripped off its cover. dangling his legs so his feet swung over the grass, till did the only thing he really could do and filled his page with whatever came to mind. it was the best kind of wandering; the least lonely kind.

when till was done, the sun had significantly eased downwards, glare still in full force but from a much different angle than during midday.

distinctly, he could recall near instantly packing up and booking it home as soon as he heard the sound of other people close by; but through some inexplicable intuition, till ended up trailing the outskirts of the wire fence until the group of others came into view.

the boys in question were idiots, no doubt. he could hear it in their tones, jeering and taunting, always so devoid of any real purpose or valuable emotion. till wasn't going to insert himself needlessly into their antics, probably among the likes of trespassing and other things his mother wouldn't approve of.

like proof of the point that till should've turned back, he figured out what the boys were doing in particular, which was beating someone up. probably not the first time they'd done it, nor would it be the last, and yet, till had been compelled to venture closer as if the angle of viewing might change something about the situation.

till waited for at least ten minutes before they got bored and left, revealing that it was his never attending desk mate who got the brunt of the group's past time activities.

with an odd conviction, till scaled the wire fence, tossing his bag over and following within a short span of thirty seconds. after landing on his feet, he stared at ivan from a distance who was just sitting there hunched against the wall in a pitiful bid at disappearing.

on noticing him, till swore that ivan's eyes flashed red, but it was gone too quick for him to know.

it dawned on till that this was entirely unprecedented and completely unnecessary for him to do. in something of a panic that someone might catch him trespassing on this one rare occasion, till efficiently backtracked all the way over the fence, pausing for a brief moment of hesitation before his phone buzzed its discontent at the late hour it was and he urged himself to carry on.

till made it home at the same time he usually did, evading any of his mother's suspicion, but now stuck with the image of ivan expectantly waiting for a person who'd never come.

======

"school's not so bad. it's boring, but it's not bad." said till, sensing that his intent wasn't getting through to ivan who still didn't show up to school and only furrowed his brows at the words. "you've only attended for a single day, how do you even know it's so bad?"

they sat on the curb of a dead end street that no one ever drove down as usual. neither of them had brought up their first official meeting as not much had changed since then besides their increased communication and penchant for holding proper conversations that weren't just glaring; also the fact that till could now spot ivan walking across the street or resting on the playground like a moth to a flame.

"i just do know." replied ivan, assured and unbothered as typical. it was the kind of attitude that ticked till off depending on the person. ivan was lucky that till was starting to form a soft spot for him. "plus, you're not really selling it to me. boring is still bad, in a way."

"maybe it won't be boring. i sit next to you, you know? that can't be boring, can it?" mumbled back till, trying not to sound desperate for ivan to stay around him more often, because that definitely wasn't what this was.

"you're already sitting next to me." tiredly returned ivan, examining the spot where till kicked his feet along the gravel road as though it was some incredible revelation that they were currently here.

"and is it boring?" asked till, attempting to be flippant but ultimately bleeding through with an earnest sincerity that grated on his own ears as he cycled back through their chatting.

"no." ivan said stiffly. when he turned to look at till, it seemed like the sun glinted red in his eyes. "my whole life is boring, except for you."