🤙 Bump into my muse | William to Thomas H- poor man is always in a goddamn HURRY

“Excuse you,” The haughty tone was not at all retracted after Thomas had taken note of the man who so rudely crashed into him – an officer of His Majesty’s Navy ought to be a great deal more aware of his surroundings, and in fact the man’s uniform only served to make matters more acerbic. “Has war been declared whilst the lords have enjoyed their afternoon tea?”

🛌 Crawl under the covers with my muse | TF’s Joji to Charles

{ Nonverbal Starters }

There was neither announcement nor acknowledgement of the other’s arrival or intentions, beyond a shift to make room for a second body on the narrow bed. His arm raised mutely, accepting and inviting as he continued to mark things down with his other hand, book balanced precariously against his propped up thigh.

He should have done this earlier, when there was more light than the flickering sway of the lantern overhead – but there had been better and frankly, more interesting business to attend to then, and he knew where all the numbers went either way. It made sense to pen it down while it was still fresh, but with Rackham ashore dealing with negotiations it had been his focus to keep the men in line.

This place wasn’t anything like Nassau, and if he ended up losing half his fucking crew because they started acting like it, he was not going to be keen on finding replacements here – he had one man on this crew from this place and while it had been one of the better investments ever made for the Ranger outside of Rackham and Bonny themselves, he highly doubted he could afford any more Lamarans short of becoming one himself.

Although, if Rackham had his way – chances were that might end up being the course.

👌 Push my muse down and give them a massage | TF’s Joji to Charles.

{ Nonverbal Starters }

Anyone else, and this would have ended in a very different fashion. Charles remained wary in spite of his present compliance, and with the rather grim awareness that it was counterproductive to the other man’s efforts.

On the one hand, he knew what Joji was capable of – and frankly after the fuck of a day he’d had, he could use the attention. On the other hand, there was still a great deal outside of this cabin that was not yet managed in a way he felt wholly comfortable with, and as long as there was a threat the concept of relaxing was as foreign as the man working his muscles into something vaguely resembling suppleness.

He knew the crew could manage it. Fuck, Anne could manage a good sixty percent of this island by herself if she was of a mind to – of that, he had no doubt. More than enough corpses piled up at her feet to make that irrefutable, and if it meant she had to work with someone to achieve a bigger body count from time to time, he knew there were people who’d rather follow her than stand against her.

Rackham might not have been able to fight his way out of a sandcastle, but he was smart enough to keep the crew maneuverable, and ensure that nothing would get to fucked up if Charles let himself indulge for a few hours – not to mention Joji himself, if everything went straight to shit, was plenty capable of shifting from calm to untouchable force of nature if it called for it.

Yet despite knowing all of this, relaxation just wasn’t coming. And after a good five or so minutes of letting the man work, he twisted himself back up and moved away, shaking his head. He didn’t need to explain shit to Joji – one of the great things about the man’s silence was it meant he could keep his own, and still make shit perfectly clear.

Until the fires died down, nobody on the Ranger would rest. And if they kept burning, then the crew might well have to prepare to go and put them out.

Permanently.

[intolerablexsacrifice, for Vane in That Verse] 😬 Snarl/show teeth at my muse [ i’m sorry you have to regularly check on a DEFENSIVE ANIMAL at this point ]

{ Nonverbal Starters }

“Well aren’t we fucking petrifying,” The tone could not have been more scathing if he tried, fucked vocal chords be damned. He was getting damned sick of this – there was no telling what he would encounter when he showed up here, which was irritating enough as it was – but every time Flint tried to take his shit out on him was a waste of his fucking time.

There was no sport in fighting a man whose only reason for it was pain. He’d been there himself enough times to know the look – to know a man who wanted to hurt just so he could feel something other than the fucking dogs at his heels, the emotions making a fucking disaster of everything else. Pain could be a clarifying thing – but it was also procrastination, a refusal to turn around and shoot those fucking dogs – and Charles would be damned before he was anyone’s fucking distraction twice in one lifetime.

“You want a fight, Flint, how about I bring him over for a visit so you can get this shit over with?” Honestly, he’d almost like to see it. Hamilton fought like a man possessed by devils, and Flint fought like a man whose only opponents were devils, so who the fuck needed rules? It’d be a fucking showdown to talk about, and if it put an end to this infernal moping, good riddance.

[intolerablexsacrifice, for Vane in That Verse] ✨ Playfully shove my muse’s shoulder [ :3 ]

{ Nonverbal Starters }

“Watch it,” The warning tone was belied only by the amusement on his expression, “Unless you want folk to start thinking you’ve crawled out of your depression pit.”

It was fucking good to see the man acting human though, no doubt about that. It was reaching the point Charles had genuinely considered asking Rackham if not shooting Flint at this point was doing him a disservice. There had to be a point when a man got back up – or those around him just accepted the fact he never fucking would.

Gates and Silver might be willing to let this fuck languish around and rot, but if all he was going to do was bloat himself in the interior and refuse to make anything of himself then what point was there in living and wasting valuable resources?

“Come on.” He offered no further explanation than that as he headed off – either Flint would follow, or he would slink back into his hole. Whatever action he chose would tell all that needed to be said on whether or not he was genuinely getting better, or just being a prick.

😴 Stand by the bed to see if my muse will let you under the covers with them | Joji to Abigail

{ Nonverbal Starters }

She had just settled in when the tall shadow of him had loomed from the corner of her eye, drawing her gaze up from the book of poems she intended to pick through before sleeping this evening. Tucking her hair behind her ear so she could see his expression better rather than try and gauge it through a curtain, she realized rather quickly what he was asking, and smiled softly.

Reaching out, she flipped the cover back by way of silent invitation, not feeling the need to verbalize that he was more than welcome. It was something she felt he ought to know, though she supposed some things might be harder to read.

Waiting until after the bed had dipped with the weight of him, and his warmth had aligned to her side, she reached over and set his arm around her, tucking up close and opening the book to the last poem they had read together, flipping forward to the next and began to recite, familiar with this one enough to not need to trace the lines as she spoke, but doing so anyway so he could follow along.

💪 Pick my muse up | Joji to Abigail

{ Nonverbal Starters }

“Oop!” A laugh followed her exclamation as she adjusted herself slightly in a hold that was now quite familiar. Har arms came up without hesitation to wrap around his neck, wondering just what had prompted this and looking around at the ground curiously as though it might hold the answers. ( And considering he had rescued her from snakes in the past well before she even noted the danger, it was a logical place to look first! )

Noting no danger, she could only conclude that it was today’s hello. There were times when she wished he would speak more – even understanding as she did why he didn’t – but moments like these, she rather didn’t mind his silent and physical approach to life. As ever, it tended to be so much more honest than other things.

“And where will you be whisking me off to now?” She asked, smiling a little, “Wait – don’t tell me,” He wouldn’t have, but it was perfectly fine to pretend otherwise, “I’m sure I will understand when we get there.”

🚪 Tap on a table/door/wall/chair to get my muse’s attention without speaking | William to Abigial

{ Nonverbal Starters }

“Yes, yes, I see you!” Abigail assured, harried enough to be quite done with politeness, “I’ll be with you in a moment – “ She eyed him up and down quickly, registering his uniform, and concluding briskly, “Officer,” before rushing off to tend to the rowdy lads at the back of the bar who were giving Georgina a hard time.

“Honestly,” She breathed to the blonde woman, stepping back just in time to avoid being splashed when the man her friend was managing suddenly tipped over on his bench and crashed to the ground to an uproar of laughter. Georgina looked at her innocently, but Abigail had seen her yank one too many men down to fall for it, “Well seeing as you’ve got this handled,” She shoved the tray she’d been carrying into the other woman’s arms, earning an unrepentant grin, “I’ll take care of the others shall I?”

“Give em hell love,” Georgina agreed, lifting the tray above her head in time to keep mead from being snatched by a man who had already clearly had too many. Shaking her head, Abigail hiked her skirt and stepped over the still dazed sailor to make her way back to the officer she’d brushed off – honestly, but she could do without the big ships coming into town! Frigates brought with them a ton of business – but that certainly meant a great deal of devilry as well, particularly when officers did not see fit to control their men!

“Now then,” She huffed, painting on a smile for – from what she could tell – just such an officer. “What can I do for you today Mister….?”

🤭 Tickle my muse | Joji to Abigail!!

{ Nonverbal Starters }

Though she had seen his hands coming for her, she had not thought to defend herself from them – thinking, erroneously it appeared, that he had been about to adjust her stance again. She was having some dreadful trouble getting this one just right – and perhaps she had been focusing too hard, or maybe he was just in a mood to keep her on her toes, but when those skillful fingers of his danced along her sides it was all she could do not to buckle in shock!

“Joji!” It was partly a cry of indignation, as much as it was a yelp of surprise, laughter bubbling up in it’s wake as she bowed forward and tried to escape him. To her dismay, he was of course much quicker, and only too easily maneuvered her close, fingers moving dexterously across her in ways that made her wriggle like a worm on a hook – and were she not so busy laughing at the sensations, she’d surely have been utterly mortified!

By the end of it, she was half bowed over his arm, clutching to him for support as she caught her breath. Whatever it was that had been bothering her before, she’d certainly forgotten about it now!

Huffing, she papped his arm, and when his grip loosened she turned about so she could give his chest a smack for good measure. “That was a dirty trick!” Though her tone was scolding, it was rather undermined by the fact she was grinning almost as broadly as he was.

[intolerablexsacrifice, for Abigail] 🥣 Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick [ listen let her be thomas & james’ neighbour or some shit ]

{ Nonverbal Starters }

The sound of his boots could have been likened to thunder against the crashing ache inside her head, and it was all she could do not to bury herself under the covers like a child to escape being seen in so pitiful a manner as this. Still, in the end, she did sit herself up – pressing her back against the wall so as not to lose all sense of equilibrium in so doing – and found that in the time it took her to adjust comfortably, he had already set something down on the bedside table.

Silence reigned a moment as she observed the hot soup, something strange twisting up inside of her that she could not place. It had been years – years now since Charlestown, and all that she had lost. She had learned to manage for herself, had learned to keep going even when she was absolutely miserable with a cold, and she knew she could have managed this one just as well.

Gazing up at him, she found she couldn’t quite speak past the lump in her throat as she realized that this was the first time someone had cared for her, completely without prompting, since Miss Barlow had encouraged her through a letter to follow Eleanor. Her time with the woman had been short, but unfailingly kind – and of course, before then, she’d had her father, and her handmaiden –

Forcing herself to breathe, finding the ache in her head and chest only made worse with emotions could both be eased by focusing on her lungs for a time, she offered a smile as she reached out, gripping the bowl with care and finding at last, something to say as the heat brought reality to her palm, and woke her back to the present.

“You didn’t have to do this,” She drew the bowl into her lap, curious to why he had, or if perhaps it had been Thomas who had set him to it, “Thank you – it’s very kind.”