#DOOM DAB

[your-fave-isdoomedbythenarrative]

the Knight Commander from Terrible Writing Advice

The Knight Commander from Terrible Writing Advice is doomed by the narrative and trying to escape.

[dognonsense]

man three dabs deep i culd not get myself to read in order and id read one sentence and get so confused and start going wait what

[fundeadasylum]

me: i’m fine, i’m a mature adult, i can handle this thing

narrator: they could not, in fact, handle the thing and spent 48 hours in a spiral of depression triggered by the thing

[mostlymihawk]

Getting Sick!

Straw Hat Crew (+ Shanks + Mihawk) x GN reader

Prompt: How they react to you getting sick.

CW: Emetophobia (throwing up)

Luffy:

Completely useless.

The man's made of rubber, he doesn't have a clue what to do.

"Um...it's gonna be okay? It's gonna be okay, right?"

You have to ask him for everything.

Does carry you to bed when asked, and will happily snuggle you.

Then asks if you want something to eat.

Food is the solution, and refuses to understand that food can also be the problem.

Nami:

Holds your hair and runs her fingers through it at the same time.

Also dabbing your face and neck with a cold cloth.

Certified professional make-it-better-er.

She did a lot of throwing up when she was younger.

Childhood trauma combined with lying to your sister and working for your mother's murderer will do that.

Knows exactly what she would have wanted, and gives it all to you.

"It's gonna be okay. I've got you, sweetheart."

Keeps tabs on your temperature to make sure this isn't a symptom of something bigger.

Refuses to let you out of bed until you're 100% better.

Zoro:

Keeps his face carefully blank and gently rubs your back.

Looking away the whole time.

You know him well enough to know he does not want to be doing this.

Handles blood just fine but this is a whole other ballgame and he wants no part of it.

Happily helps you to bed after, because it means the gross part is over.

"Better out than in...I guess."

Then he remembers someone has to take care of the cleanup.

Tries to frame it as discipline training to make it better.

Usopp:

Useless, but tries his best.

"Do you need a cloth? Some water? I can get, uh...fresh pair of clothes?"

Standing outside the door, so you croak out what you need and he runs to get it for you.

Needs to be filling the silence.

If he's not asking you something and you're not answering he's talking about how this reminds him of that one time in the Forest of Doom...

Spends the whole night telling stories to help you get to sleep.

Gets a lot better when he realizes this isn't all that much different than barnacles and bird poop.

Unfortunately, the worst of it has already passed by then.

Confidently assures you he'll be ready for next time, though.

Sanji:

As a gentleman, it's his duty to take care of his significant other when they're sick.

He's damn good at it too.

That doesn't mean he has to like it.

His face is pinched as his thumb gently rubs your back, he dabs your face and neck, and offers you sips of water when you can manage it.

"You're alright, sweetheart. A little bit of my tender love and care and you'll be on your feet in no time."

And then he notices the colour, not unlike the blueberry reduction from the dessert you'd asked for after lunch.

Gently helps you to your room, and it's not until the next day that you notice anything is amiss.

In. con. solable.

No one has ever gotten sick from his food before. Ever.

Refuses to serve food.

The Straw Hats have to turn back to Baratie so Zeff can literally beat some sense into him.

Shanks:

Bonus!

This crew loves its alcohol way too much for Shanks to be even the slightest bit bothered by a little vomit.

Sits by your side, dabbing your face, rubbing your back, completely unfazed, cracking jokes the entire time.

"Snuck into the hold and had yourself a little party without me, did you?"

Knows exactly what to do to help you feel better.

Again, the crew loves alcohol too much for anything else to be true.

Cuddles. So many cuddles.

This crew is too experienced to let a sick crew member come back to work early, so despite the unserious approach you're on strict bedrest.

The whole crew makes fun of you...but only once you've recovered.

Mihawk:

This is not a man who routinely deals with people being sick.

Confused.

Why are you sick.

Who caused this.

Who does he need to kill.

(It's whoever cooked your dinner at that restaurant you went to last night, but you don't tell him that.)

Completely repulsed, does not let it show on his face while he tends to you.

Rubs your back very gently, and uses a cool cloth to wipe the sweat off your face.

Helps you to bed, sits up and lets you lean against his chest so you're upright, and encourages a few sips of water.

"Get some rest, my jewel."

The next day there's a doctor at your bedside.

You don't need a doctor, but the look on Mihawk's face says this is non-negotiable.

[sgojoenthusiast]

[talk]

cw: smut, fem reader, ‘baby’, orgasm denial.

What Gojo loves more than anything else is when you talk to him. Of course, he loves to hear your broken moans and soft cries when he shatters your stability and all means of functioning as a proper human being - yet what does that even mean if he can’t hear you tell him how good he’s making you feel?

Gojo will be driving himself into you relentlessly, nothing but the noises of skin against skin and your garbled words fading into stuttered moans sounding throughout the room when he suddenly asks you a question he knows that you won’t be able to answer.

“That feel good, baby?” His entire weight is pressed into your back as he breathes softly into your ear. It’s difficult to even think when his hips are moving at an unwavering and cruel pace behind you and his weight crushes each thought to its impending doom until there’s nothing in your head but the feeling of his cock pressing against that perfect spot inside of you.

Your lips part to answer and you try your best to find your voice to answer him. After all, you know what’s to come if you don’t - and with how close you are to finishing, you need to answer him and you need him to keep going until he leaves you with that snap in your cunt that sent you reeling and relishing in the intense, pleasurable feel. A splintered croak was all that left from your mouth as you tore yourself apart trying to find an answer.

Mentally, you kicked and scolded yourself. Why was it so hard to form even a ‘yes’? Why were you struggling so much to form so much as a syllable? Why was your boyfriend so torturous in the way he touched and played with you?

Soon enough, Satoru had ceased his unrelenting thrusts inside of you - earning a defeated cry fall from your lips. You took the opportunity to search for your breath and gain even a slight bit of basic comprehension back before you had been fucked dumb by him for good.

“I’m sorry, I thought I asked you a question, baby?”

Without a moment of realisation, you were flipped on your back and staring up into his eyes through hazed lids. Struggling to keep your head up and your eyes open, you attempted to find the words to answer one more time.

Gojo simply cooed at you mockingly, dabbing at the fresh tears from your eyes and the drool on your lips, his thumb lingering on the plump of your bottom lip. “Let me ask you one more time. Am I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

All you could do was nod up at him with closed eyes as a sigh that blended into a whimper fell from your tortured lips.

You could still feel the hardness of his cock pressing into you and practically throbbing inside of you, which alerted you to the fact that he was struggling to hold himself back just as much as you were. He wanted to move just as much if not even more than you did.

Fuck was he struggling to restrain himself, but somebody had to teach you to behave.

The hand that played with your lip slowly moved its way down to your chin as he took it into a firm grasp that had you biting your lip and pressing your legs together. You opened your eyes and the sight that was before you was breathtaking.

Gojo’s hair was dishevelled and messy, clinging to the glistening sweat on his forehead. His eyes, in contrast to the glow on his face and the typical brightness that would commonly radiate from them, had dimmed. He was looking at you with a seriousness on his face that you failed to see at any other time. Not even the severity of his job had such a look adorn his face. And whilst it would make his enemies cower in fear and retreat to a faraway corner - it only had your heart racing more out of lust and attraction rather than terror.

Seemingly, that look on his face alone was enough to knock some sense into you. “What have I told you about manners, baby? Use your words, and don’t make me answer again.”

Your breathing had become erratic and your heart was simply fighting to break free from its confines in your chest. Though your body’s reaction was hardly one out of panic as anyone else may think. You loved to see the fun, light side of your boyfriend who cherished you and treated you with nothing short of love, care and respect. The side that made you laugh and your heart swell. Yet, there was something about this side of him that could turn you on in a flash. The side of him that came out the minute you spread your legs, inviting him to let the restraints he had placed on himself go and take out all frustration on your poor pussy. This side of him made even a most respectable woman such as yourself want to give in to anything he asked from you.

“Yes, Satoru. You make me feel so good, please keep going. I need you to make me come, please.” You practically begged, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and falling onto the pillows below you. You pleaded with him until that familiar smirk grew on the corner of his lips that let you know he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.

Before you could process his movements, your legs were thrown over his shoulders, and once again he was thrusting into you at a harsh pace. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on the white strands as your head was thrown back into the pillow from the suddenness of it all.

“Keep talking to me, baby. Don’t you dare stop.”

Although, from the way he was able to make your brain forget everything you’ve known since you were born into this world, you knew this would be yet another long night.

a/n: guys icl this is so bad but i felt like i had to post something and i like this concept lol. literally forgot all vocab tho whilst writing it or else it would be a lot longer. i hope you enjoyed anyway lol

[queenendless]

💗 Cafe Time 💗

A/n: Imma count this as an April Fool's prank cause it's kinda nonsense.

AU centric where JJK cast here are chibis, as is everyone else in this world, and you are the sole normal sized human there.

Cute fluffy filled crack nonsense that is short as hell and cause I've wanted to write chibi stuff for a long time.

Itafushi, NobaMaki, and HaiNana crumbs here and there but SatoSugu x GN!Reader in the end.

DON'T REPOST, PLAGARIZE, COPY, EDIT, TRANSLATE AND/OR STEAL MY FANFIC CONTENT. IF YOU ENJOY MY CONTENT THEN REBLOG, LIKE, COMMENT & FOLLOW PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

AND HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S! 💌

The tale of a regular sized normie getting teleported to a Japan where everyone but themselves is chibi sized.

Their resisting negation to cursed energy that in the strongest in the country leads to your immediate discovery and recruitment into a place to stay as well as work by a burly mid aged bearded man with shades.

Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College Cafe.

Your newfound workplace and home. Where you met some regulars that quickly became your favorites.

“L/n-san~!” Dear Yuji lifted the cookie atop him, smothered in whipped cream with a bright smile and a wave reserved for you. “Eat me~! Just kidding~!”

Your pinky finger gently ruffled his salmon haired head. “Your teasing is very much warranted, you precious boi.”

In the parfait cup filled with ice cream, whipped cream and berries, a storm cloud raged atop Megumi's brooding head. “Get me outta here or I will shatter this glass.”

Yuji's face became pale with doom, hissing at you conspiratory. “He ain't kidding.”

You reached down and pulled out said grumpy Megumi who took the shinigami dog shaped candy, bashfully thanked you, and shyly pecked you on the cheek, compelling you to smooch him right on the nose. “Favorite tsundere here.”

You dropped him down on table level for Yuji to smother his boi in a good old bear hug; his infectious smile causing his emo bae to blush and ease into it and smile back.

“Maki-san~! Nibble on me~!” Nobara sung suggested cozied smack dabbed in her macaron.

“You idiot. Why did you have to admit that out loud? Here of all places?” Maki murmured, bashfully blushing, looking away amiss her red bean filled pancake sandwich.

“Maki-san! I love you~!” An unashamed Nobara rushed outta her macaron to tackle Maki into a bean pasted draped hug.

“Here.” You lifted off their pancake cover before handing a decent sized handkerchief to the girls as you passed by, earning winks of thanks from the pair before their stained faces grew messier as they commended a make out session under said hankie.

“Konbu! Tsuna Tsuna! Mentaiko!” The orange topped Toge waves eagerly at you from his perched spot on his own cupcake.

“I see you my boi and I've missed you too.” Your offered finger was taken by the rice ball speaking boi, swinging him to land before Panda lounging in the middle of a smore treat.

“Give me a hand, little buddy, tall buddy.”

“Takana!” Toge's mini hand and your long finger were more than enough to pull the fuzzy cursed doll out, though the chocolate sauce and marshmallows stuck to his fur.

You magically pulled out a wet rag to clean him up, humming at the now pristine baby. “My gift to you, my precious Panda.”

“L/n-san! Lift off please and thank you~!”

You picked up Yu's back collar to place him atop his fruit sandwich for him to slide down the creamy path, bumping right into Nanami. “Sandwich slide, hazah~!”

“Why must you condone this nonsense?” Kento commented through a mouthful of his subway sandwich, lightly bopping Haibara on his noggin as an attempted scolding.

“He's your partner. You tell me.” Your sassiness made the stern Nanami purse his lips at you in defiance but had Haibara chortling to his further annoyance, firmly tugging on his cheeks to gargle those noises, only amusing his partner more, finally doing here and now to kiss him just to keep him quiet.

Haibara's face glowed all smitten like. “Aw I love you too – !”

“Hush you and eat.” Nanami couldn't suppress a grin as he ate his subway with his favorite boi.

“Job well done, fellow yaoi buddy.” Shoko snorted at what she just saw, lounging in her lemon tea sponge cake, raising her small palm for you to give a carefully slow high five indeed.

“Keep your hands to yourself, assassin.” Riko narrowed dagger eyes at the scarred man across the room, cherry atop her head as she floated in a literal ice cream soda float.

“Riko-sama, be cautious, now.” Misato cautioned her, doing her best to stay blended within her fruity spread.

“I think he's retired from that lifestyle now.” You assured the pair, settling their nerves down when you handed them a plush doll with two eyes, eight legs and horns for them to cuddle and ride on.

“Suguru~ They're so pretty~!” Satoru plopped red bean paste sweetness into his mouth as he watched you move to and fro throughout the cafe.

Suguru munched on the cherry that sat atop with him on the cupcake. “Despite the major height difference, I will admit they look docile.”

“In that case – !” Gojo got down on one knee. “Marry us please~!”

Geto nearly choked. “Toru, we're still dating!”

Gojo got up to kiss him fully on the lips. “Well, we've practically been wedded since day one so …”

Geto's eyes crinkled with tender mirth, humming as he kissed back. “Can't argue with that logic.”

Grabbing his hand, the albino of the two floated them both on up high to reach you. “Plus, a poly ship is very sexy~”

The fact that the iconic strongest pair landed on either shoulder to kiss you simultaneously on your cheeks touched your heart.

“Aw, I – MMPH!”

The super human chibi that is Toji threw his bagel like a Frisbee disk right into your mouth. “Oi. You. This donut ain't cuttin’ it for me. Get me some beer, huh?”

“Dad!” Megumi snapped on your behalf.

“He is a beast.” Yuji anxiously sweated at the alarmingly impressive feat.

“I wanna duel him even more now.” Maki, a fellow non-cursed fighter, got fired up after peaking outside to witness his simple yet stellar stunt.

“Eh!? We already called dibs!” Gojo flared up, steam coming outta his ears.

“Hands off, monkey.” Geto emanated pure unfiltered hatred for the brute killer.

All three men had their eyes cast in shadow as literal sparks of agitation flew between them, ruining the cozy vibe of the cafe.

Able to chew and swallow that bagel up, you could speak again. “Knock yourself out, you beast.” Whisking out a jug of booze outta the blue, you knew the superhuman killer could take it, his smug self already chugging it down with one hand.

“Physically gifted,” Yuji and Maki breathed out in amazement.

“As I was gonna say,” you cupped your hands out for GoGe to sit on, your e/c eyes sparkling down at them, “Of course I'll marry you two. Size and all.”

A giggling Satoru and an amused Suguru are over the moon with your acceptance, bringing them close enough for them to smooch your lips in unison.

However later, you got an earful of “Goddamn” from your chibi sized boss at giving someone alcohol at his fine establishment.

But, you could tolerate it.

All these cuties make it all worth it.

Especially your new beaus.

[lilacgaby]

CAN I REQUEST A TOUYA FIC IN WHICH HE'S RLY RLY INSECURE AND THEN FINALLY HE CRIES ONE DAY (he has damaged tear glands, remember) AND BLEEDS HIS EYES OUT WHILE CONFESSING THAT HE LIKES US AND HE ACTS LIKE HE HATES US SO THAT WE CAN BE WITH SOMEONE BETTER.

title: better 4 u

pairing: reversecomfort!touya x reader

summary: touya didn't deserve you, he knew there was someone out there better for you.

note: touya makes me so sad :(( like why was he doomed from childhood

as he stared at his scarred face in the mirror, eyeing the roses and chocolates he'd picked out for you, he felt disgusted. he didn't even know how you stood to exist near him, he hated the sight of himself as he passed by puddles, hated the burning on his skin in the rain, even sun would cause him discomfort.

how could you love him if he could barely love himself?

he threw the roses and gift for you on the ground, gripping his head in anger. the sudden noise made you rush to his room and knock on the door.

at the lack of an answer, you still walked in, confused at the items on the ground. "..touya? you okay?"

as he looked at you, he felt small again. he felt judged and he hated it. "go away." he grunted, not looking over at you.

he felt the tears start to accumulate in his eyes, curse his sensitive nature. but you didn't leave, you never seemed to, you walked closer to him and held his hand. his scarred hand stained with blood that would never wash off.

"what's wrong?" how dare you? how dare you make him burst into tears, the blood staining his face and dripping onto the floor as he resisted the urge to start wailing.

his body wracked with sobs as you hugged him close to you. why did you even bother? he was a broken mess.

you led him to sit on his bed, you beside him soothing him, you hadn't said a word yet, waiting for him to speak first. and if he didn't? you wouldn't push it. you never did.

"did something happen?" you asked, rubbing his arm and dabbing at his tears softly.

he shook his head, not trusting his voice right now.

"is it about someone?" he nodded.

"is it about.. me?" his breath hitched and you knew you were right. you brought him closer to you, confused on how you'd upset him.

"yes." he finally said under his breath. "why.. why do you even help me? why are you even with me right now? you could so much better."

you tilted his head up to yours and planted a peck on his lips. "touya, you are the best for me. i love you, not anyone else. don't think that about yourself."

he sniffled, and suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.

he didn't feel worthy of your love, but he'd accept it anyway.

"were those flowers on the ground meant for me?"

"...yes."

he knew you loved him in the way you still took care of those wilted flowers and accepted the chocolates that hadn't been on the ground.

he knew you loved him as you held him to sleep and soothed the burning in his skin,

but you set his soul aflame, and he'd love you for that.

[assortedgoods123]

Severus Snape x chatty!reader Soulmate AU

Writers block with stardew valley stuff so im trying something totally different to shake the cobwebs loose

do ppl still need to say they dont fuck with jkr or is it a given at this point? (genuine question)

*meet-cute!!!*

*this reader has titties and gender neutral pronouns*

Walking quickly, your eyes are glued to your phone as you round the corner of a street in London. You are already running late for a meeting but you absolutely refuse to deal with your coworker's bullshit without something caffeinated in your hands.

Just as you are about to look up and find the entrance to the cafe you frequent, you slam into something. You squeak out a nervous gasp when you realize it wasn't a lamp post, but a person.

"Ohmygosh I am so so so sorry!" You say, frantically digging in your bag for your horde of cocktail napkins. Your eyes flit nervously over the stranger, realizing you're both covered in his drink order. Dabbing at his torso with your little napkins, his silence makes you about a thousand times more anxious.

"I really am so so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, it's totally my fault." You stammer out, glancing at up at his face while you pat pat pat his chest with your napkins.

Your poor little heart, already beating like a hummingbird in your chest, leaps into your throat at the sight of the hottest fucking guy you've ever seen in your life. The kind of hottie you would chase down the street to throw yourself at. You've done very embarrassing things to get a chance to know people who are far less good-looking than this man in front of you now. And because you were too preoccupied with your phone, you're almost certain you won't be walking away with his number.

And he's frozen, staring at you with a weird look on his face. Definitely the worst first impression you could have possibly made.

Never one for fits of grace, you frown and say, "People as attractive as you should come with an escape lever." You throw the soggy napkins in the trash nearby and add, "I hate embarrassing myself in front of hot people."

Still not getting a response, you turn and look up at him. "You gonna say anything handsome?"

-

Severus Snape has never been rendered this speechless in his entire life.

The day the courts ruled him not guilty enough for Azkaban was certainly shocking, but even that paled in comparison to what he was experiencing now.

He was leaving his favorite coffee shop when he bumped into a muggle. People are clumsy, it happens. But then, instead of apologizing and running away from the tall scary man, they started talking to him. The sweetest, softest voice Severus had ever heard, telling him he's... hot. Attractive. Handsome.

Every single time anyone has ever shown interest in him in public, Severus has immediately and viciously shut them down. Far better to come across as an asshole upfront than to be humiliated and heartbroken later.

But now, he had this sweet little muggle running their warm hands all over his chest in a matter of seconds. Before he could snarl at them to back off, he looked down and, well.

What was already a very low-cut top was now soaked with tea, becoming slightly translucent. Half of Severus was now laser-focused on the stretch of the damp fabric over your tits, while the other half was screaming at him to get a hold of himself.

You asked him a question, he realizes. Jerking his head around to face you properly, he blurts out, "Huh?"

Oh he's doomed, he thinks.

-

You gasp and grab his arm, "Oh no I'm already so late I need to go right now but listen, here's a bit of money to buy yourself a new drink it's the least I can do I'm so so sorry for running into you and dashing away but I really am late it was nice to meet you bye!"

Hustling away, you sigh and hope you run into him again. Such a shame you couldn't stay and flirt longer. Checking your watch, you growl and break into a jog. Fuck this day, you think.

-

"Fuck this day" Severus mutters, before heading down an alley to dissipate home. Just like him to meet someone who actually thinks he's attractive only for them to be so late they have to literally run.

It was only a fraction of a moment, but Severus knows it'll be the thing keeping him from falling down a pit of despair some nights.

Hating himself as he does it, he sniffs the money you handed him. It smells like your perfume. He sets it aside on his dresser.

Pathetic virgin, he thinks.

Later that night, however, he wakes with a gasp. "Idiot idiot idiot!" He snarls, yanking the covers away from himself. "You were so focused on them you forgot to check your soul mark" He glowers at himself in the mirror before lifting his tongue. There, on the underside, is a swirl unique to him and his soulmate.

His heart skips a beat when he sees it glitter in the dingy bathroom lighting. It's activated. And the only people he spoke to yesterday were you and the exhausted-looking barista.

He thinks of the look on your face when you saw him, how you pouted so cutely when you threw the napkins away. The way your clothes stretched over your body.

I've gone mad, he thinks, as he throws on some clothes and dissipates to an alley in London.

-

I am literally insane, you think.

You've been sitting on a bench outside the coffee shop you almost went in yesterday for about half an hour now. It's too early for anyone else to be up and about yet, it's about 3 in the morning. You woke up last night realizing you didn't check your soul mark after meeting that stupidly hot guy. Sure enough, it was activated.

You twist your fingers anxiously, hoping and hoping that he will show up eventually. You'll be so sad if it's not him.

Suddenly, you hear an odd noise in a nearby alley. Nervously, you run your hands along your pepper spray.

Turning your head to look, you see him. Disheveled and breathing heavy, he locks eyes with you and storms over.

Feeling slightly lightheaded, you rush towards him and lift your tongue up so he can see. Tears of happiness and overwhelm run down your face when he nods and shows you his activated mark.

"Can I...?" You open your arms, asking for a hug.

Hesitating, he steps into your embrace, standing like a stiff board while you sniffle into his shirt and squeeze him tight.

You have a good feeling about this.

(not sure how to end it so ill call it here 🤗)

[sebsbarnes]

apologizes || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: you voice your concerns about tangerine's profession, to which he doesn't take kindly

warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, drinking, nothing bad at all

word count: 1.5k+ ; angst(?), comfort(?)

tangerine masterlist

"c'mon c'mon," you harshly whispered gesturing them inside.

tangerine and lemon bustled inside, accidently bumping into your shoulder, breathing out heavily holding themselves against the beige wall.

"we owe you big time," lemon huffed sliding off his stained coat and folding it haphazardly on his arm.

"it's fine. you both know i don't mind."

"well, that can be the problem, love. it's not exactly safe," tangerine tutted wiping blood off his forehead with his palm.

"then i'll pay the price eventually but until then i don't care as long as you two are safe," you peered out the door before bolting it and herding them to the living room.

about twenty minutes ago you got a text from lemon saying him and tangerine were on a job nearby that went bad and they needed somewhere to hide. it was supposed to be a simple in-and-out at a software company but unfortunately, they were ambushed and they were running through the city trying to lose the men trailing behind them. lemon texted that they were close enough to make it to your house while also making sure the men would be gone before they got there. you didn't even hesitate when you texted lemon to come straight here. you wandered back into the living room with two glasses of water in hand and a bottle of whiskey tucked under your arm. tangerine leaned over to the bottle and winced in pain which he tried to hide, horribly.

"you're hurt," you stated.

"it's nothing, just a scratch," he waved off opting to chug the whiskey. when he lifted his arm you noticed the large blood patch on his shirt.

"you're bleeding you idiot. get up," you demanded giving him a knowing look.

tangerine grumbled under his breath like a child but still followed you to the bathroom. he sat down on the sink and you pulled out the first aid kit. he unbuttoned his shirt tossing it to the side. desperately you tried stopping the heat flooding your face. tangerine leaned back on the mirror to expose his bare torso more. you refused to look him in the eyes while he was half-naked in front of you, all you could do was chew at your lip until you tasted metallic. tangerine dabbed hydrogen peroxide on the wound while you disinfected a small needle.

"why do you do it," you asked softly.

"what this job? makes good money. only thing i'm good at," tangerine said looking down his nose at you cleaning the area below his chest.

you sighed, "well i'm sure there's other things you are good at tangerine. besides, you can make good money at a different job."

"i like what i do. why would i leave it?"

"it's not safe," briefly looking up at him, "aren't you afraid at all. like tonight, things could have gone differently."

this is something you've been thinking a lot lately. there's been an influx in how often the twins get sent on, more than usual, dangerous jobs. today they were lucky with only minor injuries but recently they've sustained quite serious injuries, some even resulting in them going to emergency rooms. you couldn't help the feeling of impending doom each time they told you they were setting off somewhere new. since bolivia and the bullet train in tokyo, the twins have piqued many international eyes for their services. of course, you were proud of them, this is what they wanted but it didn't stop your reservations about their career.

tangerine's tone shifted to irritation and his eyebrows pulled together, "obviously i know the risk. if i had an issue with it i couldn't be in this line of work now would i?"

you shrugged, "i don't know. it just seems like sometimes it's not worth it."

"i don't think lemon and i really asked for your opinion, love. besides, can you really talk when you're associated with two killers?"

before your face was flushed due to tangerine's exposed torso, now your face was flushed in anger. your nostrils were flared out and your once gentle hand stitching him together was now tugging roughly at the skin. you weren't sure exactly what to say to tangerine. yes, you helped the twins out when they needed it because you were their friend. what, were you supposed to let them bleed out every night or let them walk miles and miles to their desired location? no. and the fact tangerine was trying to paint you as a hypocrite made your blood boil. yes you were associated but you never knew any important info besides where they are in the world, they kept everything a secret from you for safety reasons and because it's confidential.

you let out a small laugh in disbelief, "personally, i think there is actually a big difference between ending a person's life and helping those injured. but you didn't ask for my fucking opinion did you?"

the last stitch was shoved roughly into his skin. you shoved a small gauze pad and tape onto his thigh before ripping the door open and leaving the bathroom fuming. you stalked down the hallway and into the living room where you snatched the bottle of whiskey off the table and exited the front door. lemon watched with confusion from the moment you left the bathroom to the moment you left the house. he sighed standing up from the couch and headed towards the bathroom where tangerine was still on the sink leaning back onto the mirror with closed eyes.

"i don't want to hear it," tangerine grumbled.

"well you're gunna fuckin' hear it you idiot. what did you do?"

"i made her mad. said i didn't need her opinion on how dangerous the job is and that we should get new ones," he said peering over at lemon who was stood against the frame of the door with a disapproving look.

"sometimes you really are dense aren't ya?" lemon said matter-of-factly.

tangerine sighed sitting up before covering the stitches, "i'm just tired."

"so that gives you an excuse to be a dickhead?" lemon said pointedly.

all tangerine could do was shake his head.

"you realize not once has she ever cast judgment on us right? the day she found out what we did she could've turned us in yanno? she's there for us all the time, when we need help, when we need a place to stay, when we need money, and on top of all that she's a good friend but you're too arrogant to acknowledge any of it. also, maybe if you opened your fuckin' eyes you'd notice that she's practically in love with your stupid ass," lemon ranted, wacking tangerine on the head.

"i'm a shit person aren't i?" tangerine said aloud but he already knew the answer.

tangerine exhaled heavily, ripping at the gauze and covering his wound. lemon had left the bathroom after his rhetorical question leaving tangerine to his thoughts. he knew he was in the wrong. he took his frustration out at the one person who never deserved it. tangerine walked to the closet in your house where left spare clothes for the twins. pulling on a grey sweater and headed to the front door. you were sitting on the stone steps leading up to the door, arms wrapped tightly around you, the bottle of whiskey now abandoned by your side. tangerine replaced the bottle with himself, eyes shifting to your unmoving figure. he took a swig out of the bottle, the liquor burning at his throat.

"something i've been learning recently," tangerine cleared his throat, "is that i'm a prick a lot of the time."

you hummed and grabbed the bottle that was dangling in his left hand.

"i shouldn't have spoken to you like that darlin'."

"oh you think so?" you joked in agitation.

tangerine scrunched his nose, "look i- i really am sorry. i had no right to speak to you like that especially when you were sat there stitching me up. i know i can be a dick but that doesn't make it okay to be a dick to the one person who has always been there for me. for everything you have done, i don't think i'd ever be able to repay you in this lifetime, but i'll try my best."

in a poor attempt you tried hiding the glossiness of your eyes looking at tangerine. you placed your hand on his knee giving it a light squeeze, "it's okay."

there was moments of silence between you two. the air was slightly chilly, the sky now a midnight blue with flecks of light, the occasional car drove past the house, the people in the front seats singing gleefully to the radio, there was an aroma dancing it's way through the doorframe of your house, lemon must be cooking dinner, all the while your hand continues to bring a sense of comfort to tangerine.

"i am afraid," tangerine finally whispered almost as if it wasn't meant to leave his mouth, a true confession to the question from earlier.

"you know no matter what i am here for you, no matter how much of a dickhead you can be," you joked softly at the end.

tangerine cracked the tiniest of smiles and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to lean on him. the thick sweater he wore bringing you comfort against the chill of the night. your fingertips dancing across his knee. it all felt right. and it felt good knowing tangerine was slowly breaking down his walls.

[beom1e]

jerk! giving up

between a friend from college coming to visit and the common occurrence of yeonjun putting his relationship before your friendship, the last thing you need is beomgyu waiting to poke his nose where it doesn’t belong. but despite his need to fight with you on everything, his actions show a completely different side of him. a side that cares for you.

pairing choi beomgyu x fem! reader

genre humour, angst, fluff, guitarist! beomgyu

warning cursing, alcohol, hangover, nausea, jealousy

prev | masterlist | next

you fixed your hair in the mirror, trying to find the perfect balance between messy and neat. the door into the bathroom on beomgyu’s side pushed open, and you cursed under your breath as he stepped into the room. you straightened up and looked at him expectantly, waiting for his harsh words or at the very least a complaint. he stayed silent.

his eyes trailed across your figure. you were dressed in a way he’d never seen you dress before, and you were wearing a much more mature style of makeup. you were looking at him through narrowed eyes beneath a sultry smokey-eye, and your lips were painted a seductive red. he swallowed thickly and averted his gaze towards the linoleum floor.

‘why are you staring at me?’ you rolled your eyes and turned back to the mirror to dab at your lipstick.

‘you look ridiculous,’ he lied. ‘where are you going?’

‘a friend of mine from school is coming to visit,’ you explained. ‘we’re going to hit the club and then she’s going to crash here for the night. so, please, knock before you barge in like you just did.’

‘is that really a good idea?’ he raised a brow.

‘what, clubbing?’ you scoffed. ‘okay, grandpa.’

‘drowning your sorrows with alcohol,’ he stated. ‘it’s only your fault that yeonjun made a move on that music store girl. you should have been clear about your feelings.’

‘stay out of it,’ you sighed, looking down at your hands that were gripping firmly onto the sink’s edge. ‘why are you even talking to me? we’re not friends.’

‘and whose fault is that?’ he shot back. you groaned with frustration as you headed back into your bedroom. ‘you’re the one always pushing me away.’

‘huh?’ you spun on your heel to face him. he’d stopped under your doorway. ‘because there was no reason for you to act like such a dick the other day. one second you’re this guy who went to college but loved music more than his degree, the next you’re an insufferable piece of shit who would do anything to piss me off. and you had the audacity to come knocking on my bedroom door as if that’d solve anything.’

‘i’ll leave,’ he rolled his eyes. still, he felt guilt consume him and this sense of doom as he wondered if you’d ever speak to him again. ‘and i’ll use taehyun’s bathroom.’

why did he care? he wanted to rip his hair out of his scalp at the mere thought that he’d grown to care for you.

he was a better person than you knew. he loved those closest to him intensely. he was the best at giving advice and thought of music as a healthy escape. he’d taken great care when editing the songs you’d originally wrote, always turning to the rest of the band for confirmation that it wouldn’t bother you before the music was officially released. yet, somehow, you had this idea in your head that he’d waltzed into the space you left behind and hated you for even existing. that wasn’t the case, you’d just failed to make an initial connection.

still, something had changed.

he could only ever think of you as the girl who showed up out of the blue and claimed that he’d stolen her life. the girl who went out of her way to push him to the limits. but now, you were this girl chasing a life you didn’t want and leaving behind a dream too far out of reach. the girl who lost her hometown, her friends, her music, her childhood sweetheart, and now her second chance at having it all again.

if he could, he would be hitting his head against the wall and praying for the return of the surface-level impression he used to have of you. but he recalled the way you rushed to wipe away your tears and the cracking of your voice. he thought about it a lot. he thought about you a lot. he always had, honestly. despite the jealousy, he’d always wondered about this ray of sunshine his friends had always described. he wanted to meet the genius behind the lyrics. he wanted to make you proud. and then he began to think about you after your first meeting, and where he went wrong. he tried to ignore it and blame it on your childish feud, but no one else thinks so often of a girl they claim to dislike.

he closed your bedroom door with a huff.

you headed towards your bedside table and dug your hand into the bag of gummy worms kai had bought for you the other day. as your teeth pulled back against the gummy treat, your phone began to ring. it was yeonjun. you stared at the screen and waited for his contact photo to disappear. a scanned photograph of your childhood selves sharing an electric guitar at the music store you had once loved so dearly. you really had to get around to changing it, probably to a selfie taken right from his instagram.

the room fell silent after the ringtone stopped. and then your phone began to ring and buzz with text messages from your best friend. you squealed excitedly and jumped up from the bed, knocking the pack of gummy worms to the ground.

taehyun stopped in his tracks as you pulled open your bedroom door. you sent him a smile as you skipped down the hallway and headed for the staircase. as your feet met the final step, you heard her voice as she was escorted into the seating area by soobin. you rushed towards them with another excited squeal, causing soobin to jump and yelp.

‘y/n!’ she called as she ran towards you. your arms wrapped around one another out of instinct, and she began to jump up and down with you in her arms. she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. ‘why didn’t you warn me about how rich they all are? i would have tried harder with my appearance.’

‘oh, please,’ you rolled your eyes and looped your arm through hers. ‘come on, i’ll show you to my room. oh, and i share a bathroom with this really annoying guy but he promised to not use it while you’re here.’

‘really annoying guy?’ she turned her head towards you and raised a brow. ‘you mean beomgyu?’

‘precisely,’ you nodded shortly.

‘yeonjun is calling you again,’ your best friend spoke before continuing to sip from her straw. your gaze cast down towards your phone before you shrugged. ‘what’s up with you two?’

‘literally nothing, as always,’ you sighed. ‘he met this girl and the rest is history. i refuse to entertain him any longer.’

‘you’re giving up on him?’ she raised a brow, shock evident in her expression. for as long as she had known you, yeonjun seemed to be the only guy you’d ever truly wanted.

‘he’s not the only guy in the world,’ you rolled your eyes and picked up your glass. you stirred the icy liquid with your straw as you stared at the base of the glass. ‘i’ve dated other guys and had no issue before. i think i only wanted him because he was like this connection to my childhood, and being here just makes me nostalgic. but i’m not a child anymore. i mean, look around, there’s a hundred guys in here alone.’

‘just don’t do anything stupid,’ she warned as she finished her drink. ‘and don’t go home with any of them. how on earth would i find that awkwardly hidden mansion all on my own?’

you laughed audibly. it felt good to see her again. she was a reminder of the life you had now, after spending too much time in a world you no longer belonged in. the five boys were just a friend group of yours, nothing more. you didn’t live here anymore, you didn’t make music, you weren’t going to fit perfectly back into their lives. you had a career to chase and a group of wonderful people in another city. you had past loves, mistakes, memories, favourite spots, records of your time at college. what did you have here besides a lost dream?

‘should we dance?’ you smiled as you set your glass down.

‘obviously,’ she pulled herself up and threw her bag over her shoulder.

you grabbed the remainder of your things and abandoned the table you had been sitting at for over an hour now. your friend reached for your hand and began to pull you through the centre of the crowd. to her, it was just a bunch of strangers together in one room. to you, it was the people you had sat beside at a desk during your school years, still waiting around in this town for something great to happen to them. hopelessly holding onto the love they have for their hometown, and not the desire to move onto bigger things.

you would have been the same, had you been given the chance. to sit and wait around for your music career to take off, and never receive a full education. your parents wanted more for you. still, you wondered if things would have went your way had you stayed. would you been as successful as beomgyu is now?

the most popular songs of the week played through the speakers, regularly being mixed together in order to create a messy transition. it was exactly what you’d expect from the sole club in your town. you still managed to enjoy yourself.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been there, dancing and singing along to the songs that you actually knew. not that it mattered, you had nowhere to be and nobody waiting on you.

beomgyu could have told you. he’d been watching you for the past hour, refusing any offers to dance as he leaned back in his position on the couch. conversation fell short in front of him, and he’d been working on the same drink for as long as you’d been dancing. something about the way you moved was purely mesmerising. there was yet another side of you that he might’ve missed had he stayed cemented in his opinion of you. as your eyes landed on him, he dropped his gaze to his glass sitting on the table in front of him.

‘unbelievable,’ you sighed, and grabbed your friend’s arm in order to switch places with her. ‘beomgyu is here.’

she made a move to look past you, her eyes landing on him instantaneously. her mouth fell agape as she turned her attention back to you.

‘that’s beomgyu?’ she smirked. ‘he’s hot! why are you wasting your time whining about how annoying he is? have him!’

‘have him?’ you brought up your index finger and pretended to gag. ‘i’d rather have a shark bite off each of my limbs.’

‘god, you’re so dramatic,’ she rolled her eyes. ‘he’s literally cute, successful, and rich. and you share a bathroom with him! he’s literally right in front of you.’

‘okay, and?’ you shook your head. ‘sometimes there’s a door right in front of me, doesn’t mean i should go and bang my head against it. same experience, honestly.’

‘somebody needs another drink,’ she rolled her eyes and stepped away from you.

almost as if you could sense him coming, you spun around with your arms folded and found yourself glaring up at beomgyu. he held his hands up in defence and wordlessly slipped past you.

‘what are you doing here?’ you called out to him, making him pause and turn back to you.

‘i was having fun with my friends,’ he started. ‘but now it seems like i’m about to have my night ruined by you.’

‘that’s rich,’ you clicked your tongue. ‘is sitting there staring me down really your idea of fun?’

‘i wasn’t staring you down,’ he narrowed his eyes. ‘and what do you know about fun? aren’t you here just to forget about your feelings for yeonjun?’

‘shut up,’ you waved him off and followed in the path your friend had taken only minutes ago. ‘it has nothing to do with you. like i said, just stay out of it.’

‘you know what your issue is?’ he followed behind you, a sly smirk on his lips. ‘you bite the bait far too easily.’

‘you know what your issue is?’ you aggressively poked at his chest, taking a step toward him. ‘that little taste of fame gave you some sort of god complex, and now you think you’re above me because you played some guitar and slightly changed my sentence structure. everywhere i go, you’re waiting there ready to knock me down even when i feel like i’m on my last legs. you’re a jerk, beomgyu. a first-class asshole unable to have a little bit of respect for anyone but himself. you’re so far out of touch, and you don’t even realise it.’

‘and what are you?’ he retaliated, feeling his heart ache beneath his ribcage. ‘besides a girl so set on making me miserable? everything is just a competition to you. we wouldn’t even be having this fight if you were able to be in my presence without looking for a place to start. and i’m sorry that you gave up on your dreams to go to university, but you can’t continue to punish me for doing the opposite.’

‘just stay away from me,’

‘gladly,’

how could the day possibly go worse?

after drinking too far past your limits, you would have collapsed if not for beomgyu keeping you upright. he carried your drunken self out of the club and got the three of you into an uber. and then it was up to him to get you up the staircase and down the hall into your bedroom. recalling it all the moment you woke up, you’d thrown your pillow against the wall connected to your shared bathroom out of both anger and humiliation. your best friend groaned and begged you to shut up whilst the headache came on.

you felt as if you might die all the way over to the shower. and on the floor of the shower, because standing made you feel as if you were about to puke. and when you brushed your teeth, the mint flavour was nauseating to say the least.

but none of that mattered when you managed you bring yourself downstairs for something to eat. and there stood yeonjun, the girl from the music store, and the sound of their laughter as they bonded over the simple action of making an omelette. you turned with the intention to retreat, bumping into your friend who forcefully shoved you forward.

‘you hungry?’ yeonjun spoke, leaning back against the counter. ‘’gyu told me what happened.’

‘oh, yippee,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘i’m not hungry.’

‘she is,’ your friend interrupted, nudging you with her elbow. ‘thanks for the offer, yeonjun, but my uber is here.’

‘you’re leaving?’ you turned to face her with hurt in your expression. ‘already?’

‘i’m sorry,’ she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. ‘i’ll text you when i get back.’

‘oh, okay,’ you frowned as she pulled away.

‘it was nice meeting you all,’ she waved as she stepped towards the door out of the room and into the entrance hall. ‘and tell beomgyu thanks from me.’

she left you there, and the energy of the room seemed to drop. you cleared your throat and turned towards the seating area where taehyun was sitting and scrolling on his phone.

‘are you busy today, y/n?’ the girl spoke. you stopped in your tracks, locking eyes with taehyun who seemed to display his concern. ‘me and ‘jun are going out for dinner later. thought you might need a little bit of a pick-me-up.’

it would have rude to decline her invitation, so you went. unwillingly so. just you, her, and yeonjun for the entire day.

she remained attached to him for the entire time. she gripped onto his bicep and bounced as she spoke, a kind smile on her lips. it infuriated you, and knowing that she wasn’t intending to hurt you just infuriated you further. you didn’t want to be so angry with her or yeonjun. but he was your yeonjun, until he suddenly wasn’t. and seeing him fall for somebody else made you feel sick to your stomach.

arriving home was a blessing. if you ignored the fact that she was going to be staying over. in his room, in his bed.

beomgyu knew exactly what to expect. he pushed open your bedroom door and softly closed it behind himself. you hardly had the energy to fight with him, only lifting your gaze momentarily to check who it was coming to disturb your peace. he was fiddling with a pick between his fingers and leaning against your bedroom door. his heart ached once more when you looked up at him with sadness in your gaze.

‘i know you don’t want to see me,’ he shrugged. ‘whether it be because of the argument we had last night, or the fact that i was the one who had to deal with the state you got yourself into. but our rooms are very close, and i can’t just sit there listening to you sob by yourself.’

‘i don’t want to talk about it,’ you sniffled and dropped your legs to lay out in front of you. ‘but thanks for getting me home safe last night.’

‘we don’t have to talk about it,’ he awkwardly chewed the inside of his cheek as you continued to stare up at him.

‘you can sit down,’ you laughed shortly and patted the space beside you on the bed.

beomgyu sunk into the mattress at your side. you watched him as he fiddled with a loose thread on his jeans.

‘can i just clear some things up here?’ he avoided your eyes, but caught sight of your short nod. ‘first of all, i don’t hate you. nor do i intend to hurt you every time we bump into each other. it actually pains me to know that’s how you feel. and i don’t have a god complex, i just started giving you the same energy that you gave me, and i didn’t know how to stop.’

‘so it’s all my fault?’ you rolled your eyes.

‘will you cry again if i say that it is?’ he smiled slightly, trying to lighten the heavy air that surrounded you both.

‘you’re the worst,’ you sniffled once more and began wiping at your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie. ‘but thank you trying to explain, i guess.’

‘i’m sorry,’ he sighed. ‘sometimes i overstep, i know. i was having too much fun getting a reaction out of you. but i can see that you don’t need that right now.’

‘don’t you dare bring up yeonjun again,’ you rolled your eyes, suppressing your smile.

‘is he not the reason behind your current state?’ he pushed.

‘still not talking about it,’ you sighed, and pulled your knees back against your chest once more. ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch to you all of the time, too. i do always seem to bite.’

‘can i ask you a personal question?’ he tilted his head to the side as he looked down at you.

‘go ahead,’ you shrugged.

‘why did you move away?’ he looked over your features to make sure he hadn’t made you uncomfortable. ‘i mean, there’s a university here. i would know, i went to it.’

‘my parents wanted me to be away from the distraction of the band,’ she frowned. ‘they said i wouldn’t do well if i was too busy playing around with my guitar. so they bought a house far from here and took me with them.’

‘that sucks,’ beomgyu nodded to himself as an agreement. ‘do you still play?’

‘no,’ you huffed. ‘my guitar’s currently collecting dust in an unpacked box at my parents’ place. it’s been there since the end of my first year, when i stopped coming here so often.’

‘do you regret it?’

‘getting an education?’

‘giving up on music,’

‘i miss the people i shared that hobby with more than the hobby itself,’ you began to fiddle with the fabric of your pyjama pants. ‘this band used to be my whole world. and yeonjun was the one who told me that going to college was for the best. i was naive to think they’d wait for me to return.’

‘it wasn’t planned,’ he made sure to look into your eyes. ‘me, joining the band. i bumped into yeonjun at the reopening of the music store and we talked about guitars for a while. after a few months of friendship, we started playing together. it was all supposed to be experimental.’

‘oh, how humble,’ you laughed. ‘i like your songs. they have nothing on my own, of course, but…’

‘i actually really loved your original songs,’ he smiled, staring down at his hands. ‘i felt bad changing them, but they all told me you wouldn’t mind if it was for the sake of the band. oh how wrong they were.’

‘you guys made me look like a ghostwriter,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘i don’t even have a mention on your socials.’

‘take it up with kai,’ he held his hands out in defence, shrugging. ‘i don’t even have the passwords.’

the two of you laughed in sync, eyes locked. your laugh faded into an appreciative smile, and beomgyu bit down into his tongue before he could tell you how pretty your smile was.

beomgyu couldn’t think of anything worse to be doing with his spare time. and not because you were directly involved, but because he’d already been sitting for far too long under the fluorescent lights of the changing rooms.

you’d step out, and taehyun would go over to observe. he gave you his honest opinion and the two of you discussed each of the dresses in heavy detail. meanwhile, beomgyu sat scrolling on his phone. occasionally, taehyun would snap at him to pay attention. and then minutes later, he would go straight back to staring aimlessly at the screen in a doom-scroll.

he was halfway to announcing his need to grab a drink due to the hot weather, when you stepped out in this dark blue dress that had him stumbling over his words before he could even speak them. his gaze darted back down to the floor as he cleared his throat, but you didn’t miss the look in his eyes. you felt your cheeks burn as you smoothed down the fabric and turned to face taehyun.

he began his rant of how this dress was the right one, as your attention shifted to the boy staring hard at his phone.

beomgyu looked so attractive in that moment. his legs spread out as an armrest for his forearms, the phone between his hands and his head dipped forward. but not too forward, as his features were still visible. the sleeves of his light grey hoodie had been rolled up, and his brown hair was attractively messy. with the recent events that had occurred, you began to wonder if he found you attractive. he’d stared you down enough times over the past week to suggest it.

and you wondered if you found him attractive in return.

you smiled to yourself as you nodded in agreement with taehyun, deciding that you’d finally found a dress for graduation. whether it had been for beomgyu’s gaze or taehyun gushing about how perfect it was didn’t matter.

sitting back against your headboard, you tossed your phone down onto the bed and dropped your head into the hands. a deep sigh left your lips as images of beomgyu clouded your thoughts.

following the purchase of your dress, the three of you grabbed a soft pretzel and a refreshing soda before walking aimlessly around the mall. at every joke cracked by taehyun, you found yourself holding back a laugh in favour of hearing beomgyu’s deep chuckle. your eyes seemed to block out the third-wheel standing between you, expression curious as you looked over beomgyu’s figure over and over again.

his hair was falling perfectly over his forehead, and his black headphones wrapped around his neck were the ideal contrast to his light hoodie. every time he ran his fingers through his brown hair, you felt yourself growing giddy.

all of a sudden, you were crushing on beomgyu.

maybe it was due to the passionate nature of your relationship, or maybe it was due to the softness in his gaze you only recently had the pleasure of experiencing. whatever it was, your friend had been right in her words. you lived mere metres away from him, your bedrooms connected by a singular bathroom. he played the guitar, sang, and was a talented composer. not to mention he was attractive, and there was no denying it. and his attentions remained solely on you. there was nobody else.

well, nobody other than yeonjun, but that was a hopeless feat.

time had already been wasted. you weren’t sure of the future, and you had wasted the perfect opportunity of beomgyu and his closeness. you groaned as you fell back against your bed.

you buried your face into your pillow and screamed into its material, willing the plaguing thoughts of beomgyu to disappear. but they wouldn’t, and a part of you didn’t want them to. a part of you wanted to steep in the feeling of a fresh crush, smiling to yourself as you thought of his voice and his smile and his hair and the fact that he was only metres away from you at all times.

but then you remembered that you were supposed to hate him. he got on your nerves, he overstepped, he spoke in a way that intended to knock you down a few pegs.

but the look in his eyes as you stepped out in that dress…

you pulled yourself up out of bed, feeling a headache coming on from all of the conflicting thoughts. your hand clutched the side of your head as you pulled open your bedroom door and headed down the corridor. the lights were off downstairs, it being late by now, except for the dimmed lights left on in the kitchen as they always were.

as you pulled open the fridge, you jumped at the sound of someone placing a glass down beside you.

‘sorry,’ beomgyu laughed shortly. ‘i thought you knew i was down here.’

‘evidently not,’ you grabbed a water bottle and closed the fridge softly. ‘what are you doing still up?’

‘i’m always up late,’ he shrugged, leaning back against the counter. ‘my schedule is messed up. the downside of not having a real job. why are you up?’

‘headache,’ you frowned. ‘i’ve got a lot on my mind.’

‘like what?’ he tilted his head in question, feeling bold. maybe it was the outfit you were wearing, being a t-shirt and some bed shorts he struggled to keep his eyes off. ‘your mind’s far too pretty to be full of worries.’

‘are you flirting with me?’ you raised a brow.

‘depends,’ he shrugged nonchalantly. ‘do you want me to flirt with you?’

‘uh…’ you avoided his burning gaze. ‘are you feeling okay? you didn’t hit your head on a cabinet or anything, did you?’

‘is that your way of flirting?’ he narrowed his eyes. ‘at least you think i’m tall.’

‘you’re acting weird,’ your response only received a shrug.

‘am i acting weird or are you oblivious?’

‘oblivious to what?’

‘nevermind,’ he pushed up away from the counter and began to walk away. ‘goodnight, y/n.’

‘you’re leaving?’ you set down the still unopened bottle of water and felt your expression drop with disappointment.

‘yeah, you’re not playing along,’ he sighed. ‘you’re no fun.’

‘i am fun,’ you shot back. ‘you just… caught me off guard.’

‘why?’ he raised a brow. ‘because you didn’t realise there’s other aspects of my personality besides being a jerk.’

‘because i wasn’t expecting you to be so bold,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘but hey, at least you admitted to being a jerk. self-awareness sure is sexy.’

‘oh so you think i’m sexy?’ he teased, leaning his head against the archway.

‘i think you need to go lie down,’ you narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

‘will you lie down with me?’ a smirk broke out across his features.

‘oh, as if,’ you scoffed. ‘i’m going to bed now.’

you stepped past beomgyu, turning your head back to see his gaze was indeed following after you. as you headed for your room, you tried to shake off the thoughts and the conversation you just shared. it was like you were in some sort of alternate reality all of a sudden, one where there hadn’t been weeks of mutual dislike passed between the two of you.

a sigh left your lips as you closed the door behind yourself. the headache remained, perhaps even stronger now.

prev | masterlist | next

taglist @fairyofshampgyu @woncheecks @shycreationdreamland @wonioml @baekberrie @strawbrinkofdeath @bangchansbae @wccycc @hyehae @lixpixstix @hyewka @notevenheretbh1 @whippedforbeomgyu @flowerbe0m @boba-beom @gravytr4in @carengene @banggyu0308 @lexawoah13 @st4rhwa @gyulight @isascat @jung1w0n @chocorenchin @i9chae @garbageandhot @2dalso @dewybae @sanasour @binluvsu @nhularin @naoristerling

[dilatorywriting]

Opposites

Vil Schoenheit x OC Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: What do you get when a cross a vampire and a vampire hunter? Arguments about color coordination, apparently.

[OC Archive]

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Sugggestive Content

Opposites attract they say.

Which Saya had never really understood, because the general population that fell into that ‘opposites’ category tended to drive her absolutely up a wall.

And then the universe had to go and spit in her face by sending her not one, but two very opposite precious people. Ro’s contrasting traits were obvious. Sweet to her spicy, soft to her sharp. Doting, and kind, and wide eyed. Vil’s shtick was a bit trickier, because at the core of them they were the same. Or at least, similar enough that the model had long since learned to pick apart every bit of her with the familiarity of someone staring into a mirror. But there were other things.

‘Did you remember to pick up the makeup kits I had sent to Sam’s for you?’

Saya sighed and rolled her eyes and typed out an irritated. ‘Yes. Of course.’

‘You should have had all this on hand already. It’s practically the basics.’

‘Okay.’

‘Don’t pull that tone with me.’

‘We’re messaging. There is no ‘tone.’’

‘Oh? Try that again then.’

For fucks’ sake. She knew he was stressing over the Halloween event, and ensuring that he and all of his little spudlings looked positively perfect for their role in it all. But still. She was half debating smearing mud across her face and showing up smelling like literal death just to give all his pissy fretting the middle finger. But at the same time, this was important to him. And ugh. Bleck. She was just going to have to tolerate his fussing. As usual.

‘Do you want me to wear the black or the grey boots?’ she sent back instead—an olive branch.

And immediately he was flooding her phone with all sorts of color scheme nonsense and rambles about the thematic importance of shading. Which. Fine. Better than the slippery slope she’d been heading towards by a long shot.  

But, ahh. They really couldn’t be more different sometimes.

Saya had managed to wrangle her way into the complicated, custom-Schoenheit-designed ensemble and was halfway through lining her lash line with heavy, dark charcoal when she heard some incredibly unsubtle footsteps sneaking along down the hallway towards the bathroom. She watched a head of styled, red, curls bob in and out of the corner of the mirror. Then, a soft curse when he whacked his knee against the tile. She puckered her lips like Vil had taught her and ignored the creeping creature in the corner.

“Boo!” Ro chirped, hands curled into claws as he popped over the side of the counter.

Saya blinked past his head, unbothered and focused, and simply continued leaning close to the mirror to smudge heavy, black eyeshadow along her lids.

The redhead pouted and leaned forward on his tiptoes, the witch hat bobbing on his head as he stretched.

“Sai-chan. I said—”

She reached out, fast as a snake, and snatched his arm. And Ro shrieked.

“Boo,” she grinned, and he wailed in indignation.

“No fair!”

“Not my fault your scare game is weak,” she taunted. “Besides, who in their right mind would be afraid of you when look like the thumbnail off some teeny-bop lofi video?”

“That’s why I’m playing the victim!” Ro chirped, bouncing back as easily as he always did under her prodding. The layers of dark, plum skirts twirled at his knees above a set of garishly striped stockings. He looked far more Lolita Magical Girl than Creepy, Kooky Witch, but it fit him well enough either way. “I thought you were too, Saya-chan. But you look intense.”

She dabbed a bit at the raccoon-smears around her eyes.

“Different kinds of victims, I guess,” she shrugged. “You’re the cute one people feel bad for, I’m the one people see and go ‘oh shit, if he can get her, I’m doomed.’” It was proper Horror Movie logic, and Saya couldn’t fault the third years for coming up with such a devious little idea. Vil had been particularly proud of her new role when he’d presented it at their pitch meeting.

“S’too bad we don’t match anymore,” Ro hummed, propping himself up on the ledge of the counter to swing his feet. “Your new costume is cool too, though!”

It really was. It looked like something ripped right off a movie set. All aged, dusty leather and intricate straps tucked beneath a fitted overcoat that felt as expensive as it looked. And knowing who had procured it for her, Saya wouldn’t be too surprised if that was actually the case.

She snapped the little compact case closed and turned on Ro with a sharp smirk.

“Ready to go make some stupid influencers shit themselves?”

He nodded, a touch too enthusiastic. “I’ll see you later, Saya-chan! After we’ve wiped all of them out.”

“…not literally,” she reminded him with a pointed glare. “Make sure your dragon remembers that, yes?”

“Yes, yes. You’ve told me, Saya-chan. He won’t actually eat anyone. That’s what I’m for!”

“Right,” Saya nodded, wiping a bit of stray gold, dust off his collar and straightening out the pointed hat atop his head. “Let’s go ruin some magicam photos.”

.

.

They really couldn’t have looked more intentionally contrasting. Vil, with the sharp, crisp lines painted around his eyes and Saya all smudged soot and grime. A sweeping, purple and gold-embroidered ensemble next to a dark, muddied beige with no discernible shimmer to speak of. Pomp versus practical. Seductive, free-spirited elegance to militaristic formality. His hair curling loose at his collarbones and hers pinned into a tight bun to give the squibs more space to splatter.  

“No way these guys are actual vampires,” one of the Magicam Monsters spluttered, taking a harried step back.

Which was Saya’s cue to step forward—silver cross at her throat and thick, woolen overcoat swirling at her knees.

“I see you’ve finally come out of hiding, beast,” she droned, lifting the prop blade from her belt to point at the space over his heart. She could hear the tourists around her chittering and whispering into their hands. If this was all part of the show. If this was real. If it was a joke. If it was— “To think you’d stoop so low as to use a place like this for your hunting grounds. I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

Vil swooped forward so suddenly it managed to genuinely startle her. And his hand snapped up to wrap around her wrist so tight it was nearly painful. The silver stake fell to the ground with a clatter and he dug his fingers into her hair—yanking her head back sharp and harsh so her neck was on full display. Saya hissed between her teeth and glared at him sourly, fighting the urge to snap out and remind him that this wasn’t real, and she would very much like to keep her limbs and dignity intact, thank you very much.

But then he was grinning down at her in a way that had her stomach dropping—his fangs peeking over his painted lips and eyes going lidded and dark. She heard one of the stupid influencers gasp and rattle out a panicked ‘should we do something?!’

“Oh, sweet thing,” he cooed, trailing a painted nail along her jawline. “I was never hiding.”

And then he leaned forward and bit her. Saya gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders because ow! What the hell, man! He wasn’t supposed to ­actually—

The squib went off beneath her collar and thick, sticky, crimson blood began to seep its way down her neck and drip to the floor. Vil’s adam’s apple bobbed against her throat as he swallowed and Saya shivered.

The hoard of rabid influencers took off in a terrified frenzy—screaming, and shoving, and fighting their way out of the Mirror Chamber. Soon enough, the room was empty once more except for the two of them, and Saya lifted a hand to awkwardly pat against his back.

“You can—” she gulped when he shifted to bite at her collarbone. “You can stop now. They left.”

“Oh?” he hummed against her blood-splattered skin. “But what sort of Vampire Lord would I be if I didn’t make an example of the little hunter who thought herself clever enough to trap me?”

“Vil—”

“You wore the rosemary perfume.”

She blinked, thrown. “Of course I did. You said I needed to stay ‘on theme.’”

“But I didn’t tell you to,” he crooned, licking a long stripe up her throat and collecting the stray droplets of fake blood as he went. “You did that on your own.”

Saya frowned, determined to be stubbornly put out despite the fangs playing at her skin. “You said—”

“Sometimes I wonder exactly why it is I adore you so much,” he sighed, and she froze, like a deer in the headlights. Or like a poor, little human trapped between the teeth of a monster. “And then I remember that maybe we aren’t quite so different after all.”

He pulled back with a grin that was equal parts smug and soft. He reached up and rubbed at one of the red stains seeping into her skin.

“I’ll get you a cloth for that. We should get you cleaned up before the next group arrives.”

“…R-Right,” she spluttered. Of course. Yes. Cleaned up. Because that’s what this was all about. They were dawning the masks of a vampire and his hunter respectively. And they were in public.

“Oh. And, kitten?” he called over his shoulder from where he’d moved towards his stash of emergency stage makeup and costume maintenance supplies. “Do try to struggle a bit more next time, hmm? We need to make this believable.”

Absolutely intolerable. Nothing like her at all.And if Saya gasped like a victim put to the cross during their next little display—noisy and loud in all the ways that tended to make his pupils grow round and dark. If she wriggled against his grip just so to make sure she was provoking him just as much as he was for her, with perhaps the added advantage of the hidden swell of his draped cloak to shield her pressing knees. Well, that was certainly no business but her own.

.

.

[lamemaster]

Elves when you break their heart (for a lack of better title)

AN: Idk why I am writing this but here it is. This author likes the idea of doomed relationships both platonic and romantic :D (Also can we have a funny event so I can feel like writing again? Pretty plsss)

Summary: Angst

Characters: Rog, Celebrimbor, Finrod

🔨Rog🔨:

"Oh my," you wheeze folding into yourself as you catch your breath. The elf a few feet away from you looks paler than snow when you look up to smile at him.

A sheepish grin spreads across your face, trying not to show how a flight of stairs came so close to taking you out. But the poor elf turns green and you consciously wipe your lips noticing the blood on the back of your hand. That explains.

"Lord Rog in?" You point to the long corridor that your beloved promised, which definitely leads to his study and not another secret smithy.

The guard, wide-eyed and terrified, can only manage a jerky nod. You heave yourself upright, gathering your robes with trembling hands and a silent prayer to the Valar that the floor stays horizontal for at least another minute.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath – mostly to mask the metallic tang of blood – you dab at your face with the hem of your sleeve before you thrust your beloved into another fit of mothering you.

Pushing open the door (knocking? What's knocking?), you swing yourself into the study with a flourish that would make a bard proud.

"Hellooo my love," you purr, a wide smile plastered on your face despite the throbbing ache in your side. Rog, engrossed in a book held upside down with a furrowed brow, doesn't even notice you at first. It doesn't take elven sight to spot the worry lines etched deep on his face – a sight that makes your smile falter slightly. Hiding an internal sigh, you flop down next to him with a dramatic thud.

"I am not dead yet, dear," you announce, watching him stiffen at the word 'dead.' "Perhaps spare such interesting books for when you are not able to access my excellent presence." You take the tome from his hands and with a playful flick of your wrist, send it soaring across the room to land with a soft thud on a plush armchair.

A frown of complaint settles on Rog's forehead. You can already see the familiar lecture brewing – the one about slowing down and taking care of yourself. An argument you smother with a quick peck on his lips, effectively silencing him before he can utter a single word of protest.

You are, after all, a master in leaving things unfinished. And witnessing his grief and worries was a business you plan to leave unfinished for your given time.

🩶Celebrimbor🩶: (platonic)

"You are the reason for my kin's doom!" You point an accusing finger at him. "You and your larger-than-life creations." Your voice is hoarse from hours of sobbing.

Tyelpe stood frozen, his heart a drum against his ribs. His once glimmering form felt like a dying star. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring the image of the furious spirit before him.

You lurched forward, grasping his shoulders. Your touch, faint as a sigh, startled him from his paralysis. "Why?!" The raw whisper seemed to crack the very foundation of the Halls.

"Why!! Why did you have to make those rings? Why give it to my kin? Even in death, I cannot see the face of my father. My father who killed his own kingdom." The Halls of Mandos shake with the tremors of your little voice.

You, who had never met him in your lifetime, bore hatred greater than any other.

Nothing mattered. Sauron's evil, your father's own greed, none enraged you more than the elf who you made you into a resentful mess.

Tyelpe didn't flinch. His gaze met yours, a well of ancient sorrow mirroring your own. He didn't resist when the Maiar of Mandos materialized, summoned by the sheer force of your grief. He let's himself be pulled away from your grasp.

Then, a tremor ran through him, a ripple of recognition. He looked at you, truly saw you for the first time. Not just a furious spirit, but a child – a child robbed of a life you never got to live. And him being the cause of it.

He sank to his knees, his head bowed so low it nearly touched the ground. "Forgive me," he rasped, the words echoing through the halls. But this time, the plea wasn't just for himself. It was for you.

Even eternities were not enough to lift the burden of some crimes.

✨Finrod✨:

"Love?" you scoffed, a harsh sound that echoed through the cavernous hall. You met Finrod's gaze, your eyes devoid of the warmth that used to reside there. "This isn't love, Your Majesty. It's vengeance."

You leaned closer, the frosty air swirling around you like a cloak. Each word was a shard of ice, piercing the illusions you'd so meticulously constructed. "I never loved you, Finrod. Not truly."

His face drained of color, the realization dawning like a cruel sunrise. A tremor ran through his hand, the one that used to reach for yours so instinctively.

"Months," you continued, a cruel smile twisting your lips. "Months of a meticulously crafted lie, a performance more elaborate than any staged in these halls."

A flicker of pain crossed his features, a flicker that ignited a cold satisfaction within you. You had achieved your goal. Finrod Felagund, the mighty Elf-lord, brought low by the love of an Edain – the very race he deemed inferior.

"Look at yourself, Finrod," you whispered, the words dripping with venom. "Consumed by a mere illusion. A phantom who offered you a love that never existed."

Finrod opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, your fingers tightening around his chin. "You are in love with a mirage," you declared, your voice a low hiss. "A person who never truly lived. This," you gestured to yourself, the playful warmth you once wore now replaced by a chilling emptiness, "is who I am."

You lean tantalizingly close to his lips. And Finrod as if forced by habit leaned in expectantly. For a moment, Finrod's eyes searched yours, desperate to find a flicker of the woman he thought he knew – the woman who shared laughter and dreams with him.

But there was nothing. Only a cold, calculating stranger.

"Consider this Andreth's debt, finally repaid," you said, pulling away with finality. You turned and walked away, leaving Finrod alone in the vastness of his halls, his heart shattered

And remained shattered accompanied by his body that lay broken in the unlit cells of Tol-in-Gaurhoth.

[jjkamochoso]

The Perfect Fit

Story Overview: Levi Ackerman begrudgingly finds himself falling in love with the Survey Corps’ seamstress. Will they be able to own up to their feelings for each other? Or is their love doomed to fail before they discover the truths of each other’s hearts? This slow burn reader insert story will be filled with angst, yearning, and a bit of mystery as we slowly unravel the truths behind Y/N’s past… and explore her and Levi’s future!

Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 linked here

Levi Ackerman x female reader

Warnings: cussing

You grunted, lifting the last box into the cart and feeling relief that your sore arms could take a break for the short ride over to the Scout Regiment. You slipped your foot into the saddle of the horse, brought your other leg up and over, and started on your journey. You wanted to enjoy the feeling of wind in your hair and sunshine on your face this fine summer day, but frankly, you were too exhausted to give a damn. Your fingers were numb, your wrists cramped, your eyes dry. You were up all night mending the Survey Corps uniforms. As the resident seamstress, tailor, and only person skilled enough at embroidery, you were always busy, but no time were you more overwhelmed with work than after the group comes back from an expedition. Most, if not all, soldiers’ uniforms had holes of every size that needed to be patched. Pants, jackets, capes—each had to be in working order and acceptable in appearance as fast as possible. There was never enough money allotted to the Scouts to buy new uniforms as often as they should and sometimes you were even left working with clothes of the deceased to clean and repurpose for their living comrades. The whole situation was messed up, sure, but with severe lack of resources, especially with Titans taking up the valuable real estate needed to cultivate more, you understood that you had to make do. And so, you did. Just because something is a necessity doesn’t make it any easier to work with, though. You took to your face a handkerchief to dab away the accumulated sweat as your horse neighed and the cart slowly came to a halt in front of barracks. You were afraid that when you dismounted, your legs would give out in exhaustion, but you mentally slapped yourself. There was no way you would show an ounce of weakness in front of the people who give their lives just to keep you safe. Before you could give it any more thought, a voice called out to you.

“Y/n! Welcome! I trust everything is here?”

Commander Erwin walked toward you, halting his conversation with a shorter man who looked displeased at the interruption, but nevertheless made his way to you as well.

“Hello, Commander. Yes, all of the Scouts’ uniforms are in here, mended and ready to wear.” You slid off your horse and thankfully didn’t fall over. “Where should I unload the boxes?”

“Captain Levi will show you where they go. If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to.”

Your eyes went wide when you realized who the man in front of you was.

“Captain Levi,” you said, a smile gracing your face, “it’s an honor to finally meet you, sir. I rarely receive your articles of clothing to fix. You must truly be as good as they say if you can avoid snagging your cape in the tree branches.”

Levi had an unreadable look on his face as he let out a “tch.” You were about to say something else when Hange came running over.

“Y/n!” They screamed in excitement, dragging out the last syllable of your name. You were greeted with a big hug from your friend and you felt the tiredness slip away from your body for a brief moment.

“Hange! I haven’t see you in forever! I made sure to stitch up your shirt extra well and took great care to make sure it was straight as can be.”

“Aww, I am your favorite-”

“Isn’t that your job?” Levi interjected, looking annoyed as ever.

You were confused by what he meant. “I’m sorry?”

“Your job. Isn’t it your job to make sure the stitches are straight? Why are you bragging about doing your job the way it’s supposed to be done?”

You felt your face warm in embarrassment. You weren’t expecting to make a fool out of yourself, especially in front of someone as important as the captain, yet here you were. You should’ve heeded everyone’s advice to avoid talking to him or near him at all costs. Hange punched him in the arm, presumably for being so rude around their friend, but you answered him before a fight ensued.

“I don’t have a sewing machine,” you muttered.

Levi raised his hand to his ear, signaling you to speak up. You took a deep breath, frustrated at his attitude.

“I said, I don’t have a sewing machine. I mend everybody’s clothes by hand, by myself, with a turn around time of basically nothing.” You felt yourself getting heated and you knew it was because you were tired, but you kept going. “I fix undergarments, shirts, pants, jackets, and capes for 150 people at a time. I scrub blood from the dead’s clothes until my own fingers bleed because we don’t have enough material for me not to. I’m sorry my standards aren’t high enough for you, Captain, but sometimes I can only work extra hard on one person’s uniform. If I took the time to be that precise with everyone’s, your cadets would be fighting the titans just as naked as they are.” You felt your eyes start to water but you were determined to keep your cool. “Now, please show me where these boxes go. I have lots of work that needs to be done.”

No more words were exchanged as you, Levi, and Hange moved the boxes to an empty room inside barracks. When the work was done and Hange bid you farewell, it was just you and the moody captain alone again. Your horse could sense the tension between you two, stamping the ground in light distress, and you both reached out to soothe the animal. Well, him being an animal lover makes you like him the tiniest bit more. Alas, you knew you had to make verbal amends or else you’d risk getting reprimanded by whatever higher ups caught wind of the situation that you weren’t giving 110% on your work (that inevitably gets ruined the next time the cadets get too rough during training, but you digress).

“Look, Captain, I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I know I technically don’t work under you but you’re still an officer and deserve respect. Just know that I am trying my best to work under these rough conditions, as are you and your team. I hope I didn’t offend you or undermine the importance of your team’s uniforms.” You lowered your head in a slight bow to show your remorse.

“Raise your head, dumbass. It’s fine,” he said, monotone as usual, and he walked away. When he was out of earshot, you groaned. You were lucky that you and Erwin were close or else you figured you’d be fired immediately for your lack of tact toward a superior. Mounting your horse once more, you rode back to your workshop for some much needed rest. With your horse squared away in its stable, you locked your front door behind you and took off your shoes, feeling your pain creep up. You went upstairs to your living area and sleep overtook you as soon as your head hit your pillow.

The next morning, you awoke to a soft knock at your door. It was much too early for any tailoring appointments you had, so after you yawned, you called out, “just a minute!” to let the person know you were on the way. However, when you opened the door, you weren’t greeted with a human, but a sewing machine! You stood in shock for a few moments before sweeping it into your arms, cradling it like a baby. As much as you never wanted to let go of the machine, you put it on your work table to read the note that was attached.

“ALL my soldiers deserve to be fitted with the best uniforms from the best seamstress. Also, go to the damn medic. Your fingers are fucking disgusting.”

If it weren’t for the note, you would’ve thought Hange got you the gift, but no—it must have been Levi! You couldn’t help but giggle at what he wrote as you looked down at your hands. He was right, of course. Your fingers had blisters all over them from sewing too much. He must’ve noticed them when you were moving boxes, or maybe when you touched your horse? Either way, he has a hell of an eye for detail because you were never all that close to him yesterday. Rereading the note, you felt your heart skip a beat. He definitely cared deeply about people, much more than he let on, which was apparent in the way he sourced a literal sewing machine for you in under 24 hours, a feat that few could pull off in these times. But he was just being a concerned captain, that’s all. There was nothing more to his actions, no hidden feelings or anything cheesy like that.

Right?

Chapter 2

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 138

Right after Valerie sees plasmius as Vlad he notices her. Obviously he can’t have that. Danny knowing was one thing. But to allow another. He won’t let that stand.

Don’t ask why he has one. But he shot her with a weapon designed to transport others elsewhere. He didn’t bother to test where. Just knows it’s not earth.

Danny and Ellie watch as Valerie gets shot and disappears.

Valerie ends up smack dab in the middle of either a justice league meeting or a legion of doom meeting.

Let chaos commence as both Danny and Ellie try to get Valerie back. And Valerie is just trying to get back to amity. She has a mayor to confront.

[queercatwithhat]

should i do dnp 2024 predictions or is that just silly now?

ah, fuck it

MY DAN AND PHIL 2024 PREDICTIONS ^__^

they change the name of their joint channel, maybe to "dan and phil"

phil gets a tattoo!

dan introduces a new concept for his main channel

they start a podcast and it's got the unhinged stereo energy

a cute selfie just randomly captioned "date night" gets posted cause they just don't gaf anymore

dab and evan get a child and this child has the yet strangest name, not the obvious "devan"

catboy phil somehow

daniel howell will wear a black, longer skirt and look beautiful

they go undercover as stan accounts and we all lose our shit

some sort of accident during a gaming video

amazingdan reactions

dan does not shut up about phil's ass

cornelia posts another tweet about them that's calling them best gay uncles or something like that

they start playing a long, emotional storygame like life is strange or detroit become human and one of them cries

they upload a video on valentines day and whatever it is, it's so corny that no one knows wether or not they're just fucking with us

they do another mukbang and this time dan talks a bit about the we're all doomed recording just like last time when they we're chatting about the interactive introverts dvd

also small addition; this mukbang isn't pizza again, instead i'm feeling indian, like yes shove that samosa in my mouth plz

seth everman comeback just for phil

phil announces a big, creative solo project (go phil go!!!!)

they announce a tour for 2025

full phouse tour never happens but they do show us some areas of it and we all realize they're not just rich, they're rich rich

think that's it for now =P

[tasteleeknow]

trying to help minho with a recipe but you can't cook at all and feel like you're doing a bad job :( only for him to laugh lovingly at you and help you out

cooking with minho! a very cute concept i haven't done yet. enjoy!

pairing: minho x gn!reader genre: fluff. friends to lovers. word count: 600

You loved spending time with your best friend more than anything else in the world. Whether he ever returned your feelings or not, it didn't matter. You loved him too much to care. That's why you agree to help him make dinner. It was one of the things he loved doing to wind down after a hard day. To you? It was a nightmare. You were a hazard in the kitchen and you knew it. Minho knew it too. The fact he'd invited you to help anyway had made a little bubble of butterflies burst in your chest. He liked you enough to put up with you.

"Can you chop the veggies for me?" he asks, pointing towards the chopping board with the wooden spoon he's holding. You step around him to grab the bag of onions, careful not to disturb him. His mouth is parted a little as he concentrates on his task, plush lips calling to you. It's torture; sweet torture you were very much accustomed to.

It takes far longer than it should for you to set up, dragging it out in the hopes Minho will notice and take over. You had chopped an onion before, obviously. But he was in the kitchen everyday. You imagined him turning around and seeing you doing it wrong. There could be a wrong way for all you knew. He might think you were stupid and useless and that would be it: doomed to look on and he falls in love with someone else. Someone who could chop an onion the right way.

You over at him, checking he has his back turned before you start. The onion falls apart as you chop and you find yourself cutting haphazardly across the chopping board, attempting to dice up any large pieces you spot before Minho turns around and notices your mess.

Then, the tears start. You swipe at your eyes with your sleeve, willing the stinging to stop. It doesn't. When Minho turns around finally you've dropped knife on the bench, holding both sleeves to your eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"Are they stinging?" he asks, gently pulling your hands down from your face. He laughs when you attempt to squint your eyes open, then, using his own sleeve, he wipes at your cheeks carefully. You can hardly see him, eyes completely blurred.

He leads you blind down the hallway to the bathroom then holds your hair back for you as you wash cold water over your face. He huffs out small laughs periodically at your mess and you feel your hopes of a large wedding slipping from your grasp. Sure, you'd embarrassed yourself before. He was your best friend. But he'd met this girl recently. She was pretty and funny and seemingly good at everything she tried. You couldn't compare.

Minho dabs a towel over your face when you're done then takes your cheeks in his palms. "Better?" he asks, lips still curved into a slight smirk.

You nod. "Sorry."

"I think the onion is to blame," he says, thumb stroking over your skin briefly before he releases you.

"Min?"

"Mm?" he hums, hanging your facecloth up to dry.

"Do you think... I'm good at anything?"

He laughs abruptly and you feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment. Stupid question.

"Don't pout," he says. "What are you asking me that for? Did the onion hurt your feelings?"

You slap him on the shoulder lightly, pulling an over dramatic wince from him as he rubs at his non-existent injury. "Nevermind," you sigh.

He grabs your arm as you turn to leave. "You're good at things," he says with a small smile. "Very important things."

"Like?"

"Making me happy," he grins. "The most important thing of all. You're better at that than anyone."

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ general masterlist