NeverHang&#x27;d!

...i moved. sorry.

i thought i was going to keep up with this blog, but i don't think so now. peep anne on her own blog!

love and peace!

neverhangd

𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝟕𝟐𝟏, 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲. 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭

𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝚈 𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙳!

independent / slightly selective / s/low activity history & headcanon based captained by ren 21+ only, please

template by calisources

#✗ mobilr #✗ out of character

...i moved. sorry.

i thought i was going to keep up with this blog, but i don't think so now. peep anne on her own blog!

love and peace!

BRB things in motion & it’s magic hours lol

#✗ dash commentary #✗ rp commentary

I have seen exactly one person do this and I think it is hysterical. Anne Bonny: FMK?

Fuck

Marry

Kill

Voting ended onJul 7, 2023

@neverhangd [Rewind!]

Stede ran his fingers over the edge of the pages of the waterlogged book. He'd fished it out of the sea with his own hands, holding it as tenderly as he might have held one of his own children. The book had been so important to him, at one point. It had been a look into the lives of legendary pirates... it had been his first introduction to Blackbeard. He had to admit that he spent more time reading the chapters (!) on Blackbeard.

Now he knew it was all speculative, an account of a façade that the man put on to generate the necessary fear around his name. Edward, his Edward, was not in those pages.

And the book had been damaged. The illustration of Blackbeard that had been at the start of a chapter had been torn out, the jagged edges of the paper sharp once the page dried. That was another part of the book that was decidedly not Edward. It looked nothing like him. The eyes were wrong. They weren't as warm and soulful...

But that wasn't why he had the book with him. There had been a handful of bites in response to the feelers he had put out in an effort to assemble a larger crew with the goal of going after Edward. Most of those that had expressed interest ended up backing down as soon as Blackbeard was brought up. But this bite was different. This was the slick hooked fin of a shark in the midst of a school of little silver fish.

This was Anne Bonny herself. They'd arranged a meeting through the contact that had reached out to him, and now Stede was waiting for her to arrive at the little dive bar nestled in the midst of the Republic of Pirates. It was apparently a competitor for Jackie'z, which was more familiar to Stede. Seeing as he hadn't been band from this particular establishment for breaking a nose jar, it would have to do.

He hadn't actually heard of Anne Bonny until after he'd had the misfortune of meeting Calico Jack. After being introduced to the man, and Hornigold by name, he'd immediately decided to do some research. If these men were associated with Edward, then there was a good chance that they were in his book. He was right, though the portrayal of Calico Jack in text was nothing like the malicious thing that had crawled up the side of his ship late one night. Adjacent to the section on Jack, there was Anne Bonny and M. Read. Immediately upon reading about them, he wished he'd actually done so earlier. Alma would have loved to have played Anne Bonny as they ran through the house dressed up as pirates. One of the few things that he ever seemed to have connected with his children over.

If the writing about Ed and Jack was so wrong, then there was a good chance that Anne was also depicted inaccurately. If it was right, he was about to meet a foul tempered and fouler tongued woman, who'd likely not be wearing a shirt.

She'd probably be wearing a shirt. Wouldn't she? It seemed improbable that she'd appear in the bar bare busted and toting a gun. Then again, a gentleman had come in shortly after Stede carrying some manner of lizard on his shoulder and wearing what could only be described as a harness. He'd already seen things against his expectation that day.

He thumbed through the water warped pages until he came across the illustration of the women. The one labeled as Anne Bonny seemed a bit taller than the other and her pose seemed a bit more put together than the other....

Stede quickly lost himself in re-reading the section.

#LONESOME LOSER #THAT’S SO MEAN!#I LOVE IT!#tatteredxsails #✗ (ts) stede #✗ verse: for a bounty #poor sted is having A Day huh?

It's fucking weird, meeting any place in this port that isn't Jackie'z, but Anne's loathe to scare off the first and best lead she's found towards piecing a life back together for herself. She didn't know Ed past a name, too young to have been in his confidences at the same time as Jack was, but she did know Blackbeard. His stories were the ones that drifted her eyes seawards when she started hearing them. His legends were the ones that made her heart trill in her chest, even when she didn't know how excitement felt past a rush of blood and a split knuckle. To hear any fuckwit was dumb enough to openly hunt him had been a shock and a welcomed distraction from trying to figure out who she was without a sword and another man's shadow to stand in. Blackbeard is a tall man with a tall shadow. Helping to hunt him might grow Anne some, just like joining on with him undoubtedly would.

Find the pirates hunters. Find Blackbeard. Instate him as Captain over the pirate hunters. Sail a while on a reputation unstained by any man she knew or knows. Not a bad plan, that.

With her hat shading her eyes Anne shoulders her way into the Rat's Last Drink, surveying the few scoundrels there. Some look up and no sooner see her than flinch; others keep their gazes pointedly away, knowing that no one who comes through those doors comes for any good reason.

The only man who doesn't look up or away has his nose in a book and a foppish kind of air that makes Anne hate him on sight. (Stupid twat, wearing silks to a bilge-bar. She's been brought up with types like him, knows them as sure as she does the nose on her face.) Somehow, based on something Callahan had said, Anne has the sneaky suspicion that this idiot is her idiot. The man hunting for Blackbeard.

At least he looks as fucking crazy as he really must be.

Anne kicks the table rather than sit at it, loathe to waste her time if she's wrong. "You Bonnet?"

-for a bounty

-sailing for adventure

#✗ tag tba #✗ tbd #✗ out of character

Fuck, but she's fast. Faster than him. Muscle mass and age had both taken their toll on his speed. He takes a step back when she headbutts him, leaving himself open to the next blow.

Her elbow in his ribs hurts, but the blow to the knee is what has him going down. The brace only stabilizes it so much, and it aches on the clearest of days. The hit causes a sudden bloom of bright, hot, pain and the joint immediately buckles.

Edward grabs hold of her even as he feels his footing going, intent on dragging her down onto the ground. If he can get on top of her, he can use the advantage that he has over her -- his weight. His strength. It certainly isn't fucking height. He wraps an arm around her to drag her down with his weight, his other hand tangling in her fiery red hair.

They hit the deck hard enough that it temporarily knocks the air out of him and he wheezes, "Fucking hell, Anne."

#✗ mobilr #✗ (ts) kraken!ed #✗ verse: the flying gang i

How he’s gotten one hand in her hair without getting bitten is a mystery: probably he went from the back, the only safe route there. Like a pair of snakes, Anne and Ed go down onto the deck, knotted up everywhere but their spitting, hissing faces and writhing together on the ground in agony and anger. Even with a fistful of bright red hair, Ed might never have managed to drag her down if not for his gargantuan advantage in weight. (Even if he wasn’t thicker, he had muscle, and that shite’s weighty.)

Fucking hell, Anne. Joke’s on you if you thought for a moment Anne Bonny wouldn’t fight like her life depended on it just cause you were mates in the same piratical litter. In point of fact, she’s convinced her life does depend on it, not because the Ed she remembers was cruel (the stories about him sound exaggerated, anyway), but because it was going to be a frozen day in Hell before Anne let herself surrender to any man again—a thing decided only as recently as the ship she’d been stowed away on left it’s moorings and the docks.

If Ed gets on top, it’s all over. Anne’s only recourse is to get the great lummox out of hair and either get on top or get away, depending on just how bad that stupid knee of his is. For all anyone else knows, Anne Bonny is an ambidextrous hellcat with a disposition like gunpowder: unfortunately, Ed was there to know she started as a left-hander forcing herself to learn ambidexterity so that no one thought her having a pussy was reason to try and pet her as they liked. Her left hand scrabbles blindly at his wrist like she can scratch it off if she finds the right purchase on it, her right pushing and fighting to be free of Ed’s damned tentacle grip.

“Get offa me! I’ll fuckin end ye!” As often happens when her attention and adrenaline are needed elsewhere, Anne’s tongue runs wild and lashes out where it can. “This en’t a goddamned wrestlin match, ye useless pack a’ limbs!”

If you’re not following @tatteredxsails , you’re doing it wrong. Prior heard me say “history” and imply money issues getting it and is now supplying me with every free source in their arsenal. 😤

#✗ mobilr #✗ out of character #✗ promo #kinda lol I’ll do a proper one later

Anne sidles up close to the one speaking. “Is there word of anyone else?”

There are names she wants to hear death sentences and captures for and names she fears that same news of, having given up on any idea of her own infamy. The only reputation she gets to enjoy among these louts, clearly, isn’t even her own; why should she think the world at large is any different? Anne, the ship’s whore. Anne, the Captain’s woman. Anne, who nobody talks to unless they have to, who nobody (not even Jack, really) trusts or seems to like. She knows she shouldn’t be bothering another body on this ship, but….

Still. South Carolina in the periodicals, according to them. There might be news of pa. Alone as she feels, Anne can’t risk being without that.

#✗ open #✗ mobilr #drafted this for the group but had to remove it #i like it too much to drop it so here it is #slightly edited #and put in a different timespace

#please help!#✗ mobilr #✗ out of character

Ginger Pirate Bicon Seeks Swashbuckling Partners for Adventure

Now that I have your attention, hi! I’m Ren (she/her, 29, CST) and I write for my own interpretation of Anne Bonny over at @neverhangd ! I’m trying to find some partners interested in writing piraty things with Anne and me. While I’m open to all characters, I’m especially looking for:

Izzy Hands, OFMD (friends, rivals, romance)

Stede Bonnet, OFMD (friends, working relationship, romance)

Edward Teach/Blackbeard, OFMD (friends, working relationship, rivals, romance) (kraken or evil verse preferred lol)

Edward Teach/Blackbeard, no fandom/history/all fandoms (friends, working relationship, romance)

Jack Sparrow, PotC (friends, working relationship, rivals)

Elizabeth Swann, PotC (friends, working relationship, romance (?)) (pirate king verse a plus lol)

Long John Silver, TI (friends, working relationship, trusted mentor) (I don’t know BS so don’t @ me lol)

I write a little bit of everything and adore exploring every option for relationships out there—platonic, romantic, antagonistic, you name it!—but I’ll also be honest and admit that I really enjoy shipping and sinning, and would like to find partners willing to indulge me there. I am perfectly happy and willing to become partners if you don’t ship it, but shipping it is a huge plus!!

Please like, reblog, and/or comment on this post and I’ll happily check your blog out! Looking for writing partners on Tumblr and/or Discord.

selfsaving

AGGRESSION // SEXUAL TENSION .

acts that could be aggressive // or a little bit sexy // or both. send a symbol from your muse to mine. feel free to combine actions or add specifics even when it doesn’t ask for it ! can send non - sexually as well.

THREATENING

🔪 // put a knife to my muse’s throat .

🖐️ // put a hand around my muse’s throat .

👕 // slide a weapon up under my muse’s shirt ( can specify ) .

👔 // grab my muse by the collar & pull them closer .

🔒 // lock my muse in a room alone with your muse .

🗩 // verbally threaten my muse ( please specify ) .

PINNING

🔙 // push my muse against a wall .

📌 // pin my muse’s wrists above their head .

🔵 // grab my muse hard enough to leave a bruise .

🔑 // handcuff my muse .

➰ // tie my muse to a chair .

⭕ // restrain my muse with an item of clothing ( please specify ) .

🚨 // push my muse to the ground & straddle them .

📢 // tell my muse ‘ stop squirming ! ’ .

🔗 // otherwise restrain my muse ( please specify ) .

LIGHTER

👀 // grab my muse’s jaw & direct their gaze towards yours .

⚡ // tug my muse’s hair .

⚠️ // bite my muse ( can specify where ) .

😏 // give my muse a hickey .

✂️ // run fingernails over my muse’s skin & scratch them .

💦 // cover my muse’s mouth .

DARKER

💋 // give my muse a kiss that draws blood .

🗡️ // cut my muse with a knife ( can specify where ) .

💀 // kidnap my muse .

😶 // put a hand over my muse’s nose & mouth .

💥 // tighten something around my muse’s throat that restricts their blood - flow / oxygen supply ( please specify ) .

#✗ meme #p l e a s e !#✗ queue

receiptsofwhiskey

Let's Play "Would You Ship This?"

Send in a pairing or two, and I’ll tell you if I would ship it.

#✗ meme #✗ mobilr #plEASE!

This man’s no pirate; he’s an idiot. Why Ed would pour his time into a man with less brains than a sea slug is beyond Anne’s comprehension, but one thing is clear, and that’s that whatever Ed saw must have seemed to make up for an awful lot.

It only strikes her when he comments on Ed’s past exactly how stupid this man really is.

“Ed’s done ye a disservice by lettin ye flounder like this,” Anne observes coolly. “A ship without news is a floating graveyard waitin t’happen. En’t no way t’learn it at sea, but ye should be makin it a point never t’leave port without new stock and every scrap of news there is to hear. Anything less is how the Navy finds ye. Every scrap a’ rumor counts when ye’re tryin t’stay ahead of them.”

She thinks about adding that pirates don’t share their pasts—sometimes their adventures, their stories, their sins, their crimes, but never their pasts—but decides against it. The past is a sacred, loveless thing for most making a home at sea; he’ll learn that from Ed or he was never meant to learn it.

What Stede says next dumbfounds Anne, truly.

“Ye had a book on pirates who’re still sailin…an’ let Ed chuck it overboard?” A lack of survival instincts can be forgiven if there’s something to replace it with, but there’s not even that. The man knows two pirates by name, and one of them is Ed, who may as well not count for all that was “known” about him.

It also stings to hear he seems to think she’s a fucking footnote in Jack’s chapter, but she won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s struck the same nerve twice.

“Missed more than a chapter.” Or not.

Anne leans back in her chair and looks a bit more closely at the ridiculous fop. Silken breeches, a full vest and coat pulled over well-ironed clothes—she’s willing to bet his socks are pressed and his shoes unscuffed, laughably posh even if they weren’t at sea. All the breeding of the kind of man her father wanted for her and none of the brains to go with it.

Finally, Anne speaks—not to answer his question, at first, but to lecture him again.

“How many pirates sail on these waters?” Over 5000. Anne knows this. Does Stede? Probably not. “And of them, how many are men?” 4996 or so, by Anne’s estimation. “Fuckin embarrassin not to recognize one of the few pirates out there with an actual name for themselves, en’t it?, just because they don’t have a dick for you t’attach yer lips to.”

She lets that sit and waits for him to open his mouth again before cutting him off.

“I know all three a’ the only other womenfolk out there on these waters—four, if you count Ching Shih, though she en’t really put in these waters. And I know damn near every other pirate worth his salt, too, though half of em won’t speak t’me for the same reason ye’ve never bothered learnin my name. Be sure: they don’t hardly speak t’me, but they know my damn name. And they know better than t’sit in strikin distance while they’re busy insultin me.”

She lets that sit for a moment, too. Ed lets people live to tell the tale of Blackbeard: people know Anne from whisper and rumor and sometimes the clemency granted by somebody, but no one’s crossed blades with Anne Bonny and lived to tell of it without intervention.

“Anne Bonny is a fuckin psychopath with a sword and the only reason Jack Rackham’s lived as long as he has, the fuck.”

Stede had tried to provide a protest, only to be interrupted. He went quiet, letting her talk. He flushed and looked away when she said 'just because they don't have a dick for you t'attach yer lips to'. He didn't really have time to provide an answer to the torrent that came out of her.

This... certainly wasn't the first time he'd been berated for the gaps in his knowledge. He did have a tendency to miss it, when his crew tried to be more gentle with him about what he did or didn't know. He'd realize what they had been trying to say hours or even days later, long enough that the point was passed and trying to bring it back up would be embarrassing in itself. He was learning. Trying to, at any rate.

He missed the threat in her assurance that most people knew better than to insult her within striking distance. After all, there was no reason to come to blows. She was a guest... on his ship. She was Ed's friend. For all that was worth.

Stede set the cup back down on the saucer and drew a breath, "...Wow. That's... a lot. Certainly a lot was said. Right then. Really a lot of... energy."

As much as he'd missed the threat, he hadn't missed her disdain for him.

"And some really good advice! I'll accept the critique. Get the news. I'll have the boy make a note of it. But um. I couldn't help but notice... that you don't currently have a sword on you. And Jack, so far as we know... isn't exactly alive anymore. That leaves us with.... psychopath."

He reaches for his tea again, "For someone who seems to have taken it very personally that I didn't know who she was... you really didn't say much about who you are. A bit of self derision, yes. One of four women. Impressive. Safety net for someone I am sure had no idea he had a safety net. Hm."

"Now, I know your name. But not why I should know it. I can assure you that your being a woman isn't why I 'didn't bother' -- in fact, I wish I'd read a bit closer, because I would have loved to share the fact that women can be legendary pirates with my daughter. She would have loved that. I know you sailed with Edward. But there must be something to know and remark upon about you that doesn't have some kind of association with a man or a weapon. I, for one, would love to hear it."

#tatteredxsails #✗ (ts) stede #✗ verse: the flying gang i #✗ mobilr

Anne thinks to argue the point—she has a knife on her always, though she hasn’t used it in years—but she doesn’t want Stede to know about it and knows that isn’t the point he’s making, besides.

The trouble becomes that his point isn’t something Anne has an answer for. For all the blistering abuse she’s ready to hurl at a moment’s notice, there’s an uncomfortable pressure of fact in what Stede is saying that drives quite a lot of it back. Something to know and remark upon that doesn’t have some kind of association with a man or a weapon, that’s a tall order. Two men flash like blades in the light one after the other in her mind’s eye. The shadow of a third taunts her from further away than them. And then what’s left to say that’s yet to have been said? Daughter. Wife. Wife again. Who—or what—is she now?

“Bollocks. Ye’ve no interest in chronically the lives of dogs. My only job’s t’make a name for myself ‘fore I do my jig with Jack Ketch. My name o’er theirs, or I’ll keep comin back like the devil I am ‘til it’s so.”

Until you decide to yield. Spoken like somebody who didn’t know Anne Bonny from Eve.

Hands is a stupid little twat with too much to say, but he serves one purpose beautifully, and that’s a distraction. He tries to throw the brakes on this fight and only serves to make an opening Anne takes immediate advantage of: while the louts look stupidly at the mate, Anne goes right for their Captain, striking him in the throat.

That’s the one other thing there is to be said for Anne Bonny: she’s fast, and she’s ruthless. There’s no time in a real fight to worry for rules or sportsmanship, so there’s no time in a fight with Anne to worry about any of the same. In fact, Ed’s lucky: Anne’s known to go right for jewels, as it were, and occasionally the stomach.

The strike is forceful and true and damned fast, and if she isn’t stopped Anne’ll dance a few paces back with those long legs of hers and be ready to inflict yet more damage soon.

Ed takes the hit with a kind of stuttered grunt, belatedly raising an arm to block any follow up blows. Fuck, that hurt.

In all of this, it was the first thing that did -- well, physically. He'd been living in such a haze of emotional pain, that the sudden physical pain was... bright. Something to focus on. He'd be hearing that blow to the throat in his voice for the next few days. He'd feel it longer.

No one steps in to intervene, though it looks like Hands desperately wants to. He leans on his cane, still gripping Ed's jacket.

Edward reaches up to rub at his throat, his fingers momentarily pressed against the black cravat there. It gives the false impression that he's not going to retaliate or that he's going to stay slow moving. He's willing to take another hit -- wants to, even -- to get her back in range. He waits for her to get back in range before he acts, swinging up faster than expected to block and redirect her next blow, attempting to turn her with her own momentum so he can get a quick and vicious blow into her ribs.

#tatteredxsails #✗ (ts) kraken!ed #✗ mobilr #✗ verse: the flying gang i

Hands growls but stays put like the bitch he is as Anne backs up. She doesn’t want to stay in range long. She’s a slender spar in hand, quick and solid but without a whole lotta might; and Ed’s built, his brace be damned! If she doesn’t wear him out quick, she may as well have thrown the whole fight.

He’s still cool as a cucumber, damn him, and she’s too far to read more than the broadstrokes. Speed and mobility are the only things on her side right now, and when Ed’s hand goes down Anne rushes him again, aiming a proper punch at the same spot. Get this over quicker than expected, maybe. He knocks her hand wide and at the last second she sees the bastard’s hand coming in for ribs and knows there’s no blocking it into time. She takes the blow with a grunt, tender as all hell there already, but uses her height to her own advantage to come out of her fighting crouch and headbutt the bastard on the way up, breaking free again.

Anne’s quick and she’s dirty, staying just out of arm’s reach, looking for the next opening. She’ll take it, even if it’s another feint: she’s aimed for his body but up close batters the knee brace and elbows any soft bit nearby with all the viciousness of a hellcat.

Something I’m toying with is having Anne do one of the spreads from Alleyman’s Tarot as a game. I have the deck and it has a spread in it that’s basically a future sim with multiple endings depending on your choices. I just think it’s a neat ass thing to do!

Towards that regard—please like/comment/reblog if it’s okay to play the Alleyman’s Game (Buttons) with your muse! You don’t have to keep or use anything that’s read, it’s just practice for me with the deck and the game.

#✗ interaction call #✗ mobilr #✗ out of character