#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

[bushoutforbela]

Man ill take a dab and suddenly The Sword is the best music to ever exist

[inkandapex]

everytime

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary: Lando never learns, no matter how many times he says 'never again,' he somehow always ends up in the middle of his girlfriend’s pranks.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: swearing

Excuse me

The phone was propped up just right, hidden in plain sight, quietly recording as Y/N lounged on the couch, bundled in a blanket, remote in hand, eyes fixed on the TV like nothing was out of the ordinary.

She fought to keep a straight face. A few nights ago, mid-doom scroll while waiting for Lando to come back from a night out, she stumbled across a TikTok trend that instantly caught her attention: girlfriends wiping away kisses from their boyfriends. The dramatic reactions were hilarious, and knowing just how pouty Lando could get, she had to try it for herself.

It was the perfect setup. Lando was getting ready to head out for a padel game with a few friends, and like clockwork, their usual goodbye ritual included a quick kiss before either of them left.

“Baby, I’m about to head out,”

Right on cue, Lando walked into the frame—duffle bag slung over his shoulder, eyes glued to his phone. He strolled over to the couch, plopping down beside Y/N without looking up.

“Do you wanna grab dinner tonight after I get back?” he asked, finally setting his phone aside to look at her. “Or should I just bring something home?”

She tilted her head, pretending to think it over as casually as she could.

“I don’t mind grabbing food if you’re not too tired,” she replied with a soft smile.

“Perfect.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Alright, I’m gonna go. Text me if you need anything.”

As soon as he stood, she slowly reached up and wiped her cheek with her sweater, just noticeably enough.

“Excuse me?”

Lando froze mid-step, his mouth hanging open in dramatic disbelief.

She looked up at him innocently, barely holding back a laugh at how deeply offended he already looked.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? You just wiped off my kiss!”

“I didn’t! I was just itchy,” she said, barely containing her grin.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Lando leaned in again, this time pressing a slower, more deliberate kiss to her cheek.

He pulled back, eyes locked on her, waiting.

And, just like before, she reached for her cheek and wiped it off.

“Baby!” he groaned, collapsing back onto the couch, completely betrayed.

Y/N burst out laughing.

“Lan, go! You’re gonna be late!”

“Are you mad at me? What—was it the stubble? I can shave it off,” he said dramatically, grabbing her hand.

“Oh my god…” she shook her head, completely amused.

“Do you not want me to leave? I can cancel. I’ll stay, we can talk—”

“Lando!” she laughed, cutting him off. “It’s a joke, my love. It’s a prank.”

“You muppet,” Lando said, giving her a gentle shove before grabbing a pillow and swatting her side with it. “You actually had me worried for a minute.”

Y/N was still doubled over, breathless from laughter, clutching her stomach as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. The prank had worked way better than she expected.

She was mid-wipe, dabbing at her tears, when she saw him heading for the door, bag slung over his shoulder, keys in hand.

“Wait! You’re really leaving? No goodbye kiss for me?” she called out with a grin.

Lando scoffed, shaking his head as he slid his shoes on. “Already gave you two and you wiped both of them off. You’ll survive a couple hours without one.”

And with that, he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Still giggling, Y/N pushed herself up and made her way over to the hidden phone. She was just about to stop the recording when the door suddenly swung open again.

“Back so soon?” she teased.

Without a word, Lando strode toward her, gently took her face in his hands, and kissed her. Soft, warm, and lingering just long enough to make her melt.

“I’m still mad at you,” he muttered with a chuckle, shaking his head before finally heading out for real this time.

--------------------------------------------------------

Say it back

It was the end of a triple header, and Y/N had flown back to their Monaco apartment after the second weekend. She hadn’t seen Lando in a full week, which meant nightly FaceTime calls as soon as he wrapped up his post-race responsibilities.

It was the night before Lando’s flight home. He was lying on his side in his hotel bed, phone in hand, laptop propped up on the bedside table, camera angled perfectly for their usual call. He was casually scrolling through his phone, waiting on a text from Carlos to head out for dinner. Y/N was doing the same, her iPad balanced nearby as she sorted through the closet.

She wasn’t just passing time—she had a prank planned, and she needed Lando to hang up first so she could pull it off.

She finally heard the ping from his phone. Lando sat up and glanced at the screen.

“Just got the text from Carlos, baby. I’ll call you when I get back,” he said, moving closer to his laptop.

Y/N mirrored him, pulling her iPad closer and giving a small wave. “Have fun! Tell Carlos I said hi.”

“I will,” he smiled. “I love you, I’ll call you later.”

She immediately taps the screen, ending their call.

She stared at the now-black iPad screen, biting her lip to keep from grinning too hard. Not even thirty seconds passed before it started ringing again—Lando’s contact flashing across the screen. The hidden camera on the shelf beside her caught the whole thing.

“Watch him whine,” she mumbled to herself, quickly schooling her expression before picking up.

“Yes, Lan—”

“—I think the call cut off, baby,” he interrupted. This time, he was on his phone, holding it close. “I said I love you and that I was gonna call you as soon as I’m back from dinner.”

“I heard you, Lan,” she said sweetly. “I’ll probably still be up when you call. Don’t worry. Go have fun, alright?”

He gave her a soft smile, now walking down the hotel hallway. “Alright, my love. I love you.”

“Okay, bye,” she replied with the same gentle smile—and ended the call again.

She let out a quiet laugh, fully expecting the phone to ring again.

And, as predicted, it did.

When she picked up this time, Lando was in the elevator, now wearing a dramatic pout.

“I love you,” he said, deadpan.

She laughed, finally letting her composure crack. “Okay, Lan, I heard you the first time.”

“Then say it back!” he whined, full puppy mode engaged.

She was full-on laughing now. “This is one of your pranks again, isn’t it?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in mock irritation.

“I’m glad at least one of us is having fun,” he muttered with a playful scoff.

“Alright, you big baby. I love you too,” she said, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled with a smirk, finally ending the call.

--------------------------------------------------------

Come to bed

The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the TV as the two of them laid tangled together on the couch. The sound of their show played quietly in the background, but Lando had already yawned more than once in the last few minutes, his fingers twitching slightly where they were resting against her arm.

“You wanna move to the bedroom, love?” he mumbled, pulling away slightly to stretch, his voice thick with sleep. “We can keep watching there, I’m getting kinda tired.”

She hummed in acknowledgment but stayed exactly where she was, not budging an inch. That yawn? The perfect cue. Her mind was already spinning with mischief.

“I think I’ll sleep here tonight,” she said casually, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Lando’s head snapped toward her so fast it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash. “…On the couch?”

“Yeah.” She kept her tone light, expression unreadable, fully committed to the bit.

He blinked at her, confusion furrowing across his face. Then, without another word, he grabbed the remote and turned the volume down until the room was almost silent.

“Wait, hold on—why?” he asked, his brows drawn together now, voice softer. “Did something happen?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, like it wasn’t that deep. “I just feel like sleeping out here.”

Lando stood up slowly, still watching her. She stared at the TV like she was completely serious.

She expected him to push back, maybe pout, or try to guilt her into coming to bed. But instead, he turned and walked off toward their bedroom.

She blinked, sitting up slightly. Had she actually taken it too far this time?

A minute later, she heard footsteps padding back down the hallway. Lando returned with an armful of pillows and the big blanket from their bed, dragging it all toward the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying not to laugh as he started arranging everything.

“Making up our bed,” he replied, fluffing a pillow and placing it at one end of the couch. “Since you’re set on sleeping here, I guess this is where we’re sleeping.”

She stared at him, completely caught off guard.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said through a small laugh. “You can go sleep in the bed, Lan. I didn’t say you had to sleep out here with me.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging as he smoothed out the blanket. “But I don’t want to sleep without you. So either we move to the bedroom, or I’m staying here.”

He looked up at her, eyes a little tired, a little soft. “Unless… are you mad at me? Did I do something?”

That was it. The guilt hit her instantly, followed by a wave of affection.

She sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a hug, burying her face into his shoulder as she smiled. “It was a joke, baby. I was just messing with you,” she murmured. “But you’re so sweet, it actually hurts.”

Lando groaned dramatically, wrapping his arms around her like he was melting into her. “I hate you sometimes,” he muttered, but he was already smiling.

She pulled back just enough to kiss his cheek. “You love me.”

He sighed like it was the most obvious truth in the world. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Rent is due

Ever since moving in together, Lando had made one thing painfully clear—Y/N was not to worry about rent. No matter how many times she offered, no matter how many spreadsheets she pulled up with her “budget breakdown,” he stood firm, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug little grin. Her only job? Groceries. And even then, he often tried to sneakily pay for those too, claiming he “accidentally” tapped his card first.

That particular afternoon, she was elbows deep in flour and chocolate chips, humming to herself as she shaped the final batch of cookies. The apartment smelled like warm sugar and vanilla, and her camera was cleverly hidden behind a canister of flour, angled perfectly to catch his reaction.

She had seen the trend on TikTok a few days earlier: partners telling their significant others they couldn’t pay their half of the rent. And while technically she didn’t pay any rent to begin with, she knew Lando would absolutely fall for it.

The moment she got his text, “Be home in 5. Want 3 cookies. Minimum.”, she put her plan into motion.

As if on cue, the door clicked open and she heard the familiar sound of keys hitting the entryway bowl.

“In the kitchen!” she called out, casually sliding a warm cookie onto a plate like she hadn’t been plotting for days.

Lando walked in seconds later, still in his hoodie and cap, hair a little messy from his sim session. His eyes lit up the second he saw the cookies, practically tossing his keys onto the counter.

“They’re still warm,” she said sweetly, offering him one. “I’m about to put the last batch in.”

He took a bite, groaning dramatically as he leaned over the counter, melting like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. “You’re actually a witch,” he mumbled through the cookie. “A dangerous, cookie-making sorceress.”

She giggled and kept scooping dough onto the tray, timing her moment perfectly.

“I do have to tell you something though,” she said, lowering her voice just a touch and furrowing her brows for maximum effect.

Lando glanced up, still chewing, immediately on alert. “Okay… what’s up?”

She hesitated, pretending to avoid his eyes, fingers fiddling with the cookie dough scoop. “I, um… I don’t think I can pay rent this month.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I had to use the money for something else. It was urgent. I’m really sorry.”

“Baby… baby.” Lando sets his half-eaten cookie down slowly, like he’s afraid any sudden movements might make things worse. He gently takes the spoon from her hand, brows drawn together in full confusion.

“What are you talking about? Since when do you pay rent?” he asks, voice calm but clearly alarmed.

She looks him straight in the eye, her expression painfully serious. “Since I moved in. I’ve just… been sending my half directly to the landlord.”

Lando stares at her, blinking slowly. “What do you mean the landlord?”

She shrugs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “I messaged her when I first moved in, asked for her payment details. Been paying her every month since.”

His jaw drops, cookie forgotten in his hand. “Wait. Elodie? Elodie from downstairs? Our Elodie?!”

She nods casually, scooping more cookie dough like she didn’t just drop a bomb.

“Babe…” He drags a hand down his face, the kind of motion that screams I’m too pretty to be this stressed. “I pay her. I’ve been paying her. Full rent. On autopay. Every month.”

“Well,” she says with a shrug, “so have I.”

He groans, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Okay. Nope. I’m messaging her right now. She’s either been robbing us blind or you’ve been sending money to some random woman impersonating our landlord.”

Her eyes widen. “Wait—Lando. Lando, I was joking. It’s a prank, baby. A TikTok thing! Don’t message her!”

He freezes, thumb hovering over his screen. He slowly lifts his eyes to hers, blinking like he’s buffering. “You’re kidding?”

She nods, bursting into laughter. “Yes! Oh my god, you looked like you were about to write an angry landlord Yelp review.”

Lando tosses his phone onto the counter like it personally betrayed him. “Fuck me,” he mutters, picking up his half-eaten cookie and dramatically biting into it. “I genuinely thought we were bankrolling a secret apartment downstairs.”

She’s still laughing when he points the cookie at her. “You owe me. I want another dozen of these. For emotional damages.”

“Done,” she giggles, walking over to kiss his cheek. “Sorry for the stress, landlord.”

He groans again. “I swear, if I ever hear the word rent come out of your mouth again, I'm billing you in cookies.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Watch it

After weeks of watching Lando get relentlessly pranked by his girlfriend, and loving every second of it, Max Fewtrell finally slid into her messages with a proposal.

“Tag me in for the next one. I’ve got ideas.”

They landed on a viral couple's prank: the partner’s best friend acts rude to the girlfriend to see how the boyfriend reacts. Simple. Effective. Potentially explosive.

The perfect setup unfolded one chill evening in Lando’s gaming room. All three were squeezed into frame on Max’s Twitch stream, headsets on, fingers flying over their keyboards as they played a chaotic round of Repo together.

Midway through a match, Max dramatically slammed his headset on the desk. “Fucking hell, mate, can we take five? My ears are bleeding from the strategic nonsense I’m hearing.”

He and Y/N exchanged a quick smirk. Game on.

“I’m gonna get some water,” Max said, standing up with a loud stretch.

“Could you get me some too?” she asked sweetly.

Max scoffed like she’d just asked him to run a marathon. “What do I look like, your butler? Get it yourself.”

Lando looked up so fast he nearly dropped his phone. His eyes flicked from Max to Y/N, brows furrowing. “I’ll get you water, baby,” he said immediately, standing and brushing past Max with a suspicious glance.

Max bit his lip to stop from laughing. Phase one: complete.

Back at their seats, they dove into another match. That’s when Max really turned it up.

“Christ, are you even trying?” he snapped at her mid-round. “It’s like playing with a blindfolded hamster.”

Y/N bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

Lando didn’t even blink. “Nah, she’s doing great. You just suck at support, mate.”

Max rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t pop out. “Support? I’m carrying this team!”

Still no reaction.

So Max went nuclear.

Another loss. Another dramatic sigh. “Right. I’m done. Y/N, Fuck You’re like deadweight”

Lando froze. His entire vibe shifted.

“Max.”

His voice was low. Too low.

Max blinked innocently. “What? She knows she’s bad.”

“No, mate,” Lando said, leaning forward, elbows on the desk, stare locked on Max like he was calculating how long it would take to physically throw him out. “Don’t talk to her like that. Seriously. You've been a dick the whole stream.”

Max tried to hold it together. “Mate, relax. I’m just saying—”

“I don’t care,” Lando snapped, slamming the mute button on the mic. “You don’t get to act like a complete twat just because we’re on stream. You think it’s funny to shit on her all night? Grow the fuck up.”

Max’s eyes widened as he looked over to Y/N for a lifeline.

Lando caught that too. “Don’t look at her! Apologize. Now.”

At that, Max and Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Lando’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

Max clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Mate. I thought you were about to physically eject me from the chair. Like WWE style.”

Y/N was doubled over laughing, wiping tears from her eyes.

Lando just leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, jaw tight. “I can’t believe I fell for that. You two are insufferable”

Max unmuted the mic, letting the stream hear their chaotic laughter. The chat was already spamming “PRANKED” and “protective Lando mode”

“I’m still sweating,” Max panted. “That vein in your forehead? It had its own heartbeat.”

Lando groaned. “You know what? Next time you both prank me, I’m calling your mum, Max. I swear.”

Y/N giggled, wrapping her arm around Lando. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I was ready to throw him out the apartment” Lando smirked, finally cracking.

[queenendless]

💀🎃👻Spooky Greetings👻🎃💀

A/n: This literally came to mind when I saw something similar in the actual game event. First time posting twst content here. This may get a sequel. Gonna try to post variety spooky content here cause HAPPY OCTOBER YALL!

SPOILERS for the new Halloween game event going on, somewhat. Also, a bit of Skully x fem!reader and implied fem!reader x the twst bois shown/tagged down below. Short Harem drama, kinda. Not much. But I think it ain't half bad.

*DON'T STEAL, COPY, EDIT, REPOST AND TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG, LIKE, FOLLOW PLS N THNX.*

“Hello, my lovely~”

The moment this new strapping figure — “Skully J. Graves at your service~” — appeared holding you in his arms as you awoke, you were awestruck at the spooky strapping young man.

After introducing all of yourselves, watching him kiss the hand of your schoolmates was amusing; seeing their appalled expressions. Guessing they don't get that brand of greeting often, huh?

Him kissing Grim's cheek had his fur stand on end to your delight.

And yet?

The moment he took your hand — only to pull you in and kiss you smack dab on the lips?

You felt the fires of envy and hate turn ablaze as the various pairs of eyes glowed outrageously.

Many hands, gloved or not, snatched him off you.

And all hell broke loose.

“Get your grubby hands off my beloved, you cretin!” Riddle turned red even his paled up Gothic aesthetic; Trey holding the struggling boy back in his arms.

“He means MY herbivore, skeletal bastard.” Leona growled in Skully’s face as he grabbed his collar.

“On the contrary, MY angel isn't up for auction when it comes to kisses from mere worms.” Azul's irked smile gave off unpleasantness.

“Oho? That doesn't seem to be the case, surely.” Jade jested to his boss's ire.

“MY jewel’s already doing so, octo pimp. That goes for you too, street rat.” Jamil hissed them both back and forth.

“Have you no manners of consent, you mongrel? Besides, my darling Y/n has better taste than you all. Me, for example.” Vil flaunted in the others irked faces; Epel looked just about done at this point.

“Don't you dare take away my Otaku goddess, you noob!” Idia gripped dramatically to the others nuisance. 

“How dare you lay a finger on my beloved human.” Malleus spoke doom.

The air around them crackled with literal lightning as emerald flames had his hands full.

“My future Queen … prepare yourself … FOR HELL.”

“WAKA-SAMA!” Sebek switched to fanboy mode at his God's might.

“For once, we're on the same page.” Leona's smirk sent his way spoke volumes as he dropped Skully before the dragon prince.

“TSUNATARO, STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, PLEASE!” You got in the way to defend the new anime boy from the others' united wrath, especially Malleus's. “One kiss is not that big of a deal.”

You could hear a pin drop now as everyone, even Skully, viewed you as if you had two heads.

“Good grief. Ya sure you're not magical? Cause you're bewitching them into lovestruck fools. And you're not dating any of ‘em. God, you're an idiot.” Grim griped.

Leona, Jamil, and Sebek appeared as glowing eyed phantom monsters ready for the kill. “YOU'RE ONE TO TALK, FUR BALL!!!”

Yet Skully looked unperturbed, his charming toothed smile arised, as Grim got chased by three SSR dressed pissed off mages. “Oya oya … What a lively bunch, you all are. And all because I took a kiss from your sweet lips, lovely Y/n. But if you are single, then may I ask you out?”

“NO!!!” All the former overblot cases now turned bachelors for your token affections shouted in unison.

Trey, Jade and Epel and you hung your head in exasperation.

Ah, quite the Harem dilemma.

Halloween coated, no less.

[fleurliz]

𝒪nly one

【 ## 】    —   PAIRING    …    eunseok    x  fem!reader   ⋆     fluff    //     pet  names ,     …    ꔫა          —   m.list    ˖    ⋆｡𓏲𝄢

Eunseok knew he was doomed the second he saw you holding your little pink makeup pouch, eyes wide and hopeful.

“No,” he said immediately, voice steady as a rock. “Absolutely not.”

“But whyyyyy,” you whined, scooting closer on the couch and giving him that look—head tilted, lower lip pouting, eyelashes fluttering. “I just wanna see how it looks on you!”

“I’m not your practice doll,” he grumbled, though he didn’t budge when you climbed into his lap. “Baby—seriously—no.”

You propped your chin on his shoulder, voice soft and pleading. “Please? Just once? I got all this new makeup and you have such a pretty face.”

His ears turned pink. “That’s not—” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“It is,” you said sweetly. “Because you love me.”

He tried to hold your gaze like he wasn’t melting inside, but after a beat of silence, he finally slumped back against the cushions, defeated. “…Fine. But only because you’re cute.”

“Yay!” you squealed, hugging him tight. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Please don’t tell the guys,” he muttered under his breath as you dug out your brushes.

You sat on his thighs and carefully started with a little concealer on the tip of your finger. Eunseok kept trying to look away, but every time you cupped his cheek to turn his face back, he went bright red.

“You’re not even letting me see,” you complained, dabbing under his eyes.

“Because you’re staring at me like you’re about to eat me,” he grumbled, eyes flicking up to glare at you—but you could tell he was fighting a smile.

When you finally picked up the little peach blush, he actually groaned. “Baby, no. Please. Not that one.”

“It’s going to look so cute, I promise.”

“No. I—”

“Love.”

“…Fine.”

You gently swept it over his cheekbones, trying not to giggle at how his expression pinched in pure embarrassment.

“You look like a little fairy,” you teased, tapping his nose with the brush.

“Stop,” he whined, voice muffled as he covered his face with both hands. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“And you secretly love it,” you teased, prying his fingers away. “Look at you, blushing and everything.”

When you picked up your lip tint, he looked like he was about to jump out the window.

“Absolutely not.”

“Seok.”

“No.”

“Eunseok,” you repeated, leaning closer so your lips almost brushed his. “Please, baby?”

He swallowed hard, jaw flexing. “…Just this once.”

You pressed the tiniest bit of coral gloss onto his lips with your finger, then sat back to admire your work, heart squeezing because he looked so endearingly shy.

“Can I take a picture?” you asked in a hushed voice, feeling a little shy yourself.

“…You already know the answer.”

“Okay, I won’t.” You set down the lip tint and smoothed a hand through his hair, your voice softening. “You really do look handsome, though.”

He finally opened his eyes to look at you—and the way he softened, the way his shoulders relaxed, made your chest feel too small for your heart.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured.

“You do,” you whispered back, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I love you too.”

He pulled you closer, big hands splayed over your back, letting you nuzzle into his neck.

“…Are we done now?” he asked, sounding exhausted.

“One more thing!” You grabbed a tiny hello kitty hair clip and clipped it to his hair.

He just sighed—long-suffering, resigned, but with a tiny smile playing on his lips.

“Cute,” you said, giggling as you traced the flush on his cheek. “My pretty boy.”

And even though he groaned and tried to hide behind his hands again, he didn’t push you away.

Because no matter how much he grumbled—he’d let you do anything, as long as it made you happy.

[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.

[fraktsify]

maki マキ ࿐ only coworkers

CONCEPT — do not get distracted by the pretty boy

coworker 宏田力 x f!reader 117O library ──── genre fluff & angst 프락치 warnings pretty boy! maki, coworkers to friends to ???, roblox kid!reader & maki, reader lowk a stalker, reader is delusional (lovingly), maki brainrot agenda, big time flirt maki, slightly jealous maki & jealous reader, maybe unrequited love ? フラクチ

YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHEN it happened, it just did. You had seen this pretty boy at work before, but you didn’t really see any interest in him. You only knew he was the same age as you and in college too. Everyone at work knew you were pretty outgoing and being able to easily chat it up with the other coworkers, but why was this pretty boy so hard to talk to? 

You didn’t know when you first began talking to him, it just became a habit. One work day, you didn’t talk to him; the next work day, both of you were chatting it up. Looking at him from afar, he was pretty and looking at him close, he was pretty. Damn it, he really lived up to his nickname. His dimples showed whenever he smiled, lighting up his eyes. His hard to miss height also played a key point in how people viewed him.

You came to know the pretty boy as Riki Maus, or Maki due to there being another Riki at work. On the schedule, he was labeled as RIKI M. and you definitely used that to find out his Instagram (to which you did and realized he was very attractive outside of the work uniform). His feed showed his fashionable taste in clothing, and his love for his family. Maki was definitely the perfect guy everyone thought he was. 

IT WAS A WARM SUMMERY AFTERNOON and you were waiting for your ride to pick you up from work. Damn you for not getting your license when you turned sixteen. You sat in the break room and scrolled through your phone until a presence joined you as well, taking the seat next to you. 

 ⠀⠀ “Are you on your break?” The automatic question came out of your mouth whenever you would see someone in the break room, or enter it. 

 ⠀⠀ “Yeah, I’m on my ten. Aren’t you already off?” Maki looked at you and it caused the both of you to make eye contact.

You hummed as a yes and looked back at your phone, scrolling mindlessly before he interrupted your doom scrolling of IG Reels. 

 ⠀⠀ “You play Roblox?”

 ⠀⠀ “Huh..? Oh yeah, I do.”

 ⠀⠀ “Bet. Let me add you. What’s your user?”

A small panic ran through you as you extended your hand. “Let me put in the user.”

He laughed as he looked at you, “I bet it’s something embarrassing, right?”

 ⠀⠀ “It’s not! I just don’t like saying it out loud…”

He handed you his phone and watched you put in your user. Clicking the Add Friend button, you focused back on your phone and accepted the request. Handing back his phone, he smiled and clicked on a game. 

 ⠀⠀ “Join me, while I still have time on my ten.”

As much as you tried to deny what you were hearing, you nodded and clicked his profile to join the game. It was a good two minutes of playtime before Nicholas walked into the break room and dabbed up Maki. You tried your best to ignore Nicholas and focused your attention on the game, not realizing Maki had left it as soon as Nicholas entered. You heard them talk about their college classes and before you knew it, Maki and Nicholas were walking back to clock in. 

You didn’t feel bad because for the first time, you felt seen by a guy. Yet those feelings had to be shaken; you didn’t want to be involved with another guy again, especially a pretty one at that.

YOU HAD A FEW SHIFTS together but it wasn’t anything where you two could talk. He would be clocking in, and you would be clocking out or vice versa. Okay maybe you two didn’t have shifts together but it was still something! Yet as each shift you two managed to have together, the closer you two became. There wasn’t a doubt that there were a bit of unspoken feelings between the two of you, but you were okay with how things were going. Bonding over the latest brain rot video, sharing horrid Reels to each other, and always laughing while at work. You would leave work with slightly warm cheeks contrasting with the cold breeze from outside.

Maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this pretty boy and his humor.

Grabbing the heavy items for you, leaning in to hear what you're saying, standing too close for you to smell his cologne, the lingering gazes on each other, suggestive comments, or even his winking towards you.… these were signs that were driving you crazy. You clearly flirted with him and he did too. This Japanese-German boy was hinting at something, something more for the two of you. Nevertheless, that would come and go as your friendship was built on spilling secrets and sending each other TikToks and Reels. It was just a small little crush you developed on him, so why did it hurt when he casually mentioned he had a date set for tonight?

His voice became static as he spoke, “See, I would stay longer and help you guys out, but I have a date tonight.”

The manager cooed at the young boy and decided to not push further, yet you wish he would’ve. Like a radio without a signal, you went silent upon hearing that. You hope he didn’t notice your sudden shift in demeanor and if he did, he didn’t say anything. In spite of feelings being everywhere, you had to pull through and help the next customer.

 ⠀⠀ “Oh hey Yuma! It’s odd seeing you this early in the day. Did you still want your usual?”

Yuma, your regular in the evening, kept in a laugh. “It is a bit early, isn’t it Y/N? And yes, I’ll be having my usual. Oh! Did I tell you about how I finally got…”

Yuma went on and on about his new collectible he managed to finally pull in a blind box, and it brightened your face a lot, which was quickly noted by Maki. Yuma’s drink was quickly called and he excused himself before grabbing it. Waving you goodbye, you smiled back at him and told him to have a good day.

 ⠀⠀ “Someone’s quite popular,” Maki spoke behind you, “I would start to think you’re interested in him.”

 ⠀⠀ “Who? Oh, you mean Yuma? He’s sweet but he’s not really…” You glanced at Maki, “my type of guy.” 

 ⠀⠀ Maki gave you his signature smile before turning on his heel to begin brewing the next batch of coffee, “We’ll see about that, Y/N.”

Maki wasn’t yours to begin with, even with that date he has. Your eye follows his every move as you stand still, taking in all of him. Maki’s red cheeks match with yours, and you found yourself getting warmer whenever you two talk. Too many girls think he’s pretty, that just goes with his charm. Your eyes linger on Maki too much, you might start to think you’re being obvious, but not obvious enough for him.

But you’ll like him anyway.

written by monica (fraktsify) —  &.  NOTES   ›   my first post!!! so happy, i seriously didn’t think i would ever post on here. pls enjoy this as this was based on true events (me). check the playlist bc this is what i feel with this fic. click the last sentence for part two :)

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 10)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Drinking

Word Count: 3517

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

Notes: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Well…” Rhys trails off from over your shoulder. You don’t think your muscles could coil any tighter, didn’t think your cheeks could flare any hotter as you stared down at the returned quiz in your hands. Then Rhys appeared behind you after speaking with your professor. Not even the heat of his body nor the breath of his soft breathing can distract you from the paper. “It’s not an F.”

“It certainly isn’t an A,” you respond, glaring so hard at the red circle with the D+ scrawled in the middle. You’re focusing as much attention on making the paper burst into flames as you are trying to keep the prickling behind your eyes from turning into something more.

“I think aiming for an A was a bit ambitious to begin with,” Rhys says gently. It wouldn’t be hard for him to sense your utter disappointment, with your head hung low and the defeated slump to your shoulders. He has an urge to eat the space between you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and let you lean into him, to comfort you. He wants to see you smile, even glare at him, because anything is better than seeing you this downtrodden.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, shoving the paper into the fold of your binder before slamming it shut. The soft thud it makes does nothing to expel your annoyance, and you almost bare your teeth at the damn thing as you stuff it in your bag. “You’re like a dictionary for all things psychology.”

Rhys follows you from the hall. At least this was your last class before the weekend. You can shove any and all things psychology from your mind and focus on what’s much more important tonight, Gwyn’s birthday.

He holds the door to the lecture hall open and you dodge students entering for the class following yours. You catch the looks people shoot Rhys’ way. Apparently, he’s well-known. You see girls ogle him, guys nod in his direction as he passes like he’s some sort of celebrity or something. It’s almost laughable, how someone on a sports team could be so valued across a campus. And he’s not even on the football team, which you find even more impressive, since your school lives and breathes Bats football. Hockey is a close second, with women’s soccer a shocking close third for student events.

You suppose that any sporting event where people can get shit faced and scream nonsense in a large crowd would be appealing to most.

“Come on,” Rhys says. “You really didn’t do that bad.”

You shoot him a look.

“Rhys. Were we looking at the same quiz back there? Because all I saw was a big, fat D.”

He carefully folds his bottom lip between his teeth and amusement swimming to life in those heart-stopping violet eyes of his. He refrains from cracking a joke about how there could be another big, fat, D in your future, if you ask nicely. It takes superhuman effort to keep the comment to himself.

Still, you notice, and smack him playfully on the arm. “Gross.”

He holds up his hands in fake surrender. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t need to,” you reprimand. You turn your head away from him, acting like you’re searching for something across campus. If he catches the way your cheeks flush from whatever he may have been thinking, he politely refrains from pointing it out.

“I studied so hard, Rhys,” you complain, grasping the straps of your backpack tighter. “I’m actually doomed.”

“You’re not doomed,” Rhys refutes. His arm brushes against yours as you walk and every time you remind yourself that someone could see you, you shift an inch over. “We’re going to have to work harder, that’s all.” Rhys doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re trying to create space. It’s like there’s a magnetic field drawing him into you, and within a few feet, you’re walking on the edge of the sidewalk.

And the thing is, you are trying really hard. You don’t know how much more effort you have, and there’s only a month and a half until finals. By your calculations, you’ll have to get Bs on every assignment, quiz, and test until the end of the year if you want to pass.

That sounds impossible.

“How about Saturday night? You can come over to mine after the game and we can study together.”

You can’t, even though you kind of want to see what the hockey house is like when there aren’t a thousand people stuffed into the interior. You want to see what Rhys’ room looks like. If word makes its way back to Mor, you’ll be totally and completely fucked. She’s your best friend and you’d like to keep your relationship with her. You’d be a terrible friend if you didn’t.

At your apprehension, Rhys continues. “Mor won’t find out, and if she does, all you have to do is tell her the truth. That I’m your tutor.” Fake boyfriend goes unsaid, and that’s the part you’re worried about.

Worried about it because you think you’re starting to like being Rhys’ fake girlfriend. The soft touches when Amarantha around feel good, an arm around your shoulder, the warm looks he sends you from the ice, like he’s still thinking about you when he’s deep in a game. And that kiss…you’re starting to get why his reputation is the way it is. His lips are sinful.

“I’m hoping I’ll be curing a hangover with greasy pizza or a juicy burger.” It’s a poor excuse, an even worse attempt at deflection.

Rhys quirks a brow. “From your little wine night?”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn down the block to your dorm. It’s now you realize that Rhys is taking the time to walk you home. He mustn’t have much to do for the party tonight, despite the extravaganza being hosted at his house. It must be nice to have teammates pulling their weight.

Gwyn doesn’t get out of her last class until six thirty, which gives you and Mor almost two hours to pull out all of the decorations you’ve been stockpiling in the back of your closet, and pick up the cake from the local bakery. You don’t have to worry about getting the drinks for later, Gwyn was so excited to finally turn twenty-one and wanted to purchase the alcohol now that she’s officially legal. You and Mor pitched in, sending her off this morning with a pancake breakfast and cash for the alcohol. You can’t wait to pop open a bottle after the long day you’ve had.

“I’ll have you know that wine drunk is way better than vodka drunk,” you wrinkle your nose, “And it’s much better than getting drunk off of Cassian’s skunk punch. Seriously, what the hell is even in that?” You shudder at the memory. “Why is it even called skunk punch?”

Rhys grimaces, especially when he remembers that there will be no escaping Cassian’s concoction of basically every alcohol he can find and afford that night. It’s somehow even worse than a bar mat shot. As part of the tradition, everyone on the team must take at least one skunk punch shot, and he’s not looking forward to it.

“Trust me, it’s better not to know the answer to either of those questions.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you agree.

You and Rhys stop just outside your building. He stares at you like he doesn’t want this moment to end, and neither do you. There’s a betraying thought in your mind that says you should roll up onto the tips of your toes and press your mouth against his, that he wouldn’t push you away. That his hands would wind around you to pull you even closer, that his fingers would thread through your hair like they did that night and guide your head like they might have if no one interrupted your kiss—

“Well, this is me,” you say, and curse yourself for being so awkward. Truthfully, you have no idea what to say, how to act when your heart is pounding in your chest with the way he’s looking at you.

His eyes flit to the building and back. “Are you sure you can’t want to make an appearance at my party tonight?” Rhys asks. “Just in case she shows up, of course.”

Right. In case Amarantha shows face.

He wants you to come even if his ex doesn’t show up. Hell, he’s praying that she doesn’t show up. Rhys just isn’t ready to say goodbye yet. The short amount of time he’s seen you today—walking you from your class to your dorm—hasn’t been enough.

You shake your head and he tries his best to mask the deflation of his shoulders. It’s not just any wine night; it’s your roommate’s birthday. If it wasn’t such an important event, or Gwyn didn’t despise hockey so much, you’d consider trying to convince her into going. “I really can’t tonight. It’s Gwyn’s birthday, remember?”

“Of course,” Rhys offers you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s polite. Awkward. “I’ll see you Saturday night at the game, right? And we’ll study after.”

“Sure you won’t have another party to attend after the big game, Mr. Hotshot?” you tease, and a true smile threatens to crack his face.

“There is one, but one of my other teammates is hosting,” he teases back. “We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Your stomach flips at his words. All alone with Rhys? At his house?

To study, you reprimand yourself, though you can think of a million other things you’d like to be studying instead of psychology. Anatomy, for one.

“Yeah,” you swallow the butterflies trying to escape up your windpipe. You step away from him, needing the space before you do or say something you shouldn’t. You turn toward the door, continuing over your shoulder. “See you Saturday.”

“He even had a drawing!” Gwyn exclaims, and the three of you burst into another fit of the combination of the night: laughter and tears. Laughing so hard that you can’t help the droplets that squeeze from the corners of your eyes.

Her cheeks are almost as red as the wine in her glass. Or, was in her glass. How did she down her cup that fast? Your cup is still half-full. You glance at Mor, who’s in the middle of capturing a video of the drunk birthday girl who sloppily sticks her fork into the cake the three of you have been picking at all night. She ends up with frosting on her nose and the sight of your quietest roommate having the time of her life is so endearing that you’ve barely even thought about the party Rhys is at.

“No way,” Mor refutes, shutting her phone off and taking a big gulp of her wine. She’s in a maroon tank top and sleep shorts with her fuzzy platform slippers on her feet. They’re shaped like teddy bears, and one keeps staring at you where she taps her toes to the rhythm of the music pouring from the speaker on the kitchen counter.

Gwyn’s auburn hair pops against the white t-shirt she has on. There’s an emerald logo of the local bookstore on the front and a smear of blue icing beside it. A drop of wine down the center. It’s been a night for the birthday girl, and you’re having the time of your life.

“I swear! I know I’m a writer but I’m in no way that creative,” Gwyn insists, waving her fork around. A dot of icing goes flying toward the couch and lands on Mor’s cheek, causing another round of roaring laughter.

Gwyn had been telling a story about how someone in her creative writing class wrote the most ridiculous line she’s ever heard. Watery bowels. You can’t stop thinking about it, and every time you do, it causes another wave of cackles to sound.

Mor swipes the frosting from her face and licks it off her finger. You’re about to reach for your abandoned fork when your phone buzzes next to your socked foot.

You’re thankful for the alcohol warming your skin, because you’re full-on blushing and grinning so hard your cheeks hurt at the name that appears.

Rhys: Bored yet?

He’s been bothering you all night. This is the fourth time he’s asked you this. He wants you to try and convince your roommates to go over to their house and join in on the festivities, but you told him that you were having too much fun. He then tried to score an invite to your dorm, saying that it can’t be that much fun and to prove it if it was.

You replied with a video of you sending a picture of the mutilated cake, to which Rhys sent whining emojis in response.

You: Not quite.

Rhys: Is there still cake left? I’m famished.

You squint because the words are a little hazy with the amount of wine you’ve drank tonight. You almost jump out of your seat when the phone buzzes in your hand, lighting up with Rhys’ call.

You scramble to hide the screen, making sure that neither of your roommates saw. Thankfully, they’re both occupied with something on Mor’s phone, eyes wide as they try and comprehend what they’re looking at.

You want to answer, you do. You miss Rhys even though you’ve seen him a few hours ago. You wonder what he’s wearing, if those violet eyes are glossed with drink like yours are.

When you stand with the intention of slipping somewhere private to answer Rhys’ call, Mor takes notice.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you answer almost too quickly, and stride for the door.

“Hello?” You answer, hitting the light switch with your elbow and flicking the lock shut behind you.

“Hi,” Rhys greets, and your smile breaks your face.

It’s loud at the house he’s at, but the background noise of partying students and loud music dims some as he finds somewhere quieter. Your heart flips in your chest at the thought of him abandoning a party to call you.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, leaning back against the door.

“Calling you,” he answers like an ass. Typical.

“Yeah, I got that. But why? You know Mor is in the room with me, right?”

“Is she in the room with you?” Rhys prompts.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Where are you hiding?”

“Bathroom,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. The ugly cream color matches the rest of the rooms in your on-campus apartment, the ceramic flooring perpetually cold beneath your socked feet. The only ounce of color is in the shower curtain you and your roommates picked out on sale when you moved in, a teal number with swirls of gold and mint. It’s the same pattern you swear was on your grandmother’s sofa when you were young. “You?”

“My room,” Rhys says, and you try not to think too much about that. “I’d say I have about ten minutes before Cassian finds me and forces me to do a skunk shot with him, so if you hear the sound of a bear mixed with a screaming eagle, that’s him.”

You snort a laugh. “That’s okay, I only have a few minutes, too.”

“Yeah, how’s that going? You three aren’t lonely yet?”

“No,” you roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “But clearly you are.”

Rhys hums noncommittally. “So what if I am?”

The fluorescent lights are burning your eyes and you blink blearily, wondering if you just heard what you think you did. You curse yourself for forgetting your glass in the spot you abandoned to eagerly answer his phone call, because your throat has suddenly dried up. You wonder how unladylike you’ll sound if you decided to stick your head under the faucet.

“I would tell you that there’s a million girls just downstairs to keep you company,” you say, but you don’t really mean it. In fact, the wine in your stomach sours when the words come up.

“Maybe,” Rhys says, and you can picture him shrugging those broad shoulders of his. The very ones you want to kick your legs over with his head between your thighs. Fuck, you can’t be thinking like this. “But none of them are my lucky charm.”

His lucky charm? You’re his lucky charm? You can’t say that you’re upset with the sentiment, even if it’s not true. He’s drinking, he’s just flirting, which is only going to make the hole you’re already slowly digging yourself even deeper, and you’re not all that sure you’d mind.

Mor’s laughter creeps under the door and you force yourself to change the subject. Focus.

“You know what? Maybe I need one of those good luck thingies,” you sit on the edge of the tub, reveling in the way the chilled porcelain cools your burning skin.

“Good luck thingies?” Rhys muses, and you wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he lying on his bed? Sitting at his desk? Pacing the room?

You startle back into yourself when Rhys calls your name. He sounds worried, and it’s flattering. You imagine the way he might be chewing his lip, that same hot, demanding mouth you want to feel on yours again.

The scalding heat in your cheeks reflects between your legs, your pussy pulsing with want. “You listening to me?”

“Huh?”

Beautiful laughter echoes through the line and steals your breath from your lungs.

“I asked ‘what good luck thingies?’”

Good luck thingies? You frown, racking your mind for the lost conversation. Oh! “You know, like…” you trail off, waving your hand flippantly as you grasp for answers. “Something that can help me ace the next test. Like how you claim I’m your good luck charm. I think James’ is listening to this one rap song from the nineties—”

Rhys grunts unhappily and you almost smile.

“Please don’t bring up Attor while we’re on the phone,” he all but groans. You stifle a giggle at his jealousy.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. Outside the door, your roommates begin chanting your name from the couch, their voices muffled. They’re asking for the third bottle of wine you stashed in the fridge to cool. “What do you think my good luck thingie should be?”

Rhys hums thoughtfully and the sound rumbles to your core. You’re sure he doesn’t mean it to sound as arousing as it does. You clench your thighs together carefully.

“Don’t know,” he says. “Maybe you should come here and find out.”

Gods, does that sound perfect right now. You want to know exactly what he means by that, and when you open your mouth to respond, you’re cut off by a loud pounding on his side of the phone that makes you flinch. You wobble on your perch but manage to keep steady as you hear Cassian get into his room. Rhys curses about how he thought he locked the door.

“Bitch, why the fuck are you hiding?” Cassian bellows. “We need to take skunk shots, stat! The rest of the team is waiting!”

Rhys breathes your name over the line. “I have to go. Come over if you can, yeah?”

“I can’t promise anything,” you whisper back, and the line goes dead.

You take a second to compose yourself, and exit the bathroom. Your roommates cheer when you pull the wine from the fridge and wave it around like you just won gold at the wine-retrieving event. You make a fake speech as you pour, and slowly, the FOMO trickles away.

“Ugh,” Mor groans, locking her screen and tossing it to the foot of the couch. She takes a sip of her wine and sighs dramatically. “My cousin and Cassian will not stop texting me! They’re so annoying!”

“Texting you about what?” Gwyn asks, gulping down her wine. You think she might need to stop soon, but you don’t want to kill her birthday buzz.

“Their dumb party. They keep telling me we should come over. I already told them that we’re busy!”

You watch Gwyn hum. There’s an idea churning behind those bright eyes of hers, but you have no idea what. It’s no secret that she despises hockey and everything to do with it for some reason, but you don’t know the story. She doesn’t look like she’s ready to spill on that quite yet, but her eyes do light up with mischief.

“I hate hockey and I don’t want to go to their party, but wouldn’t it be fun to prank them?”

Prank them? Coming from the girl who would never break a rule, not even something as silly as jaywalking.

“Prank them how?” You ask, sharing a confused look with Mor, who sits up on the couch and leans closer to your roommate.

“I don’t know,” Gwyn hiccups, and she looks funny with the over-dramatic way she masks on her innocence. “What if we stole that trophy they love so much?”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @w0nderw0manly @bbykaixx @marina468 @taechvita @marigold-morelli @esahintzkanen @miakxn @ssmay123 @webvics

[notsosaucystuff]

Some important phannie vocabulary and phrases (in alphabetical order):

Words:

Babuse

Bub/Bubby

Bob

Capital£ester

Crafties

Craft/Crafting

Dab

Dad

Dalien

Danosaur

Delia Smith

Dil

Doot

Eliza

Emo

Erica

Evan

Fetus

Glabella

Gloryhole

Glue

Gnu

Golden pig

Hiatus

Lad/Lads

Ladydoor

Lesbian

Lexicon

Lion

Literally

Llama

Maltesers

Melapples

Microwave

Muse

Norman

Nuki

Onomatopoeia

Pancakes

Phan

Phandom

Phass

Pheal

Phivorce

Phol

Phouse

Placenta

Protip

Ranch

Ribena

Sim/Sims

Slit

Soulmates

Susan

Tabitha

Tit

Tour

Twink

Twunk

Uma Thurman

Whisk

Whiskers

Yap/Yapping

Yee

Phrases:

All or nothing

Art is important

Breaking the sound barrier

Companions through life

Dip and Pip

Don't cry, craft

Do you know what a genre is?

Editing tips

"Embrace the void and have the courage to exist"

Forever home/Phorever home

Girl in Prague

Glory hole

Heart eyes Howell

Hello, my name is [Dan]

Help me Dad

Hey buddy, you in London?

Hobbit hair

It hits different

Love eyes Lester

Lying makes you go to hell

Mirror Butt

No but seriously imagine it

Passenger Princess

Phil trash #1

Ranch metaphor

Reasons why Dan's a fail (yay)

Red Hot Phil

Right in the Florida

"Open wide for Captain Lester!"

Soft and neat

Something something night changes

Square hair

The builders

"This guy"

"This is the most fun I've ever had"

Tops only bar

Try new things

Twink Death

Twunk Birth

We're here, we're queer, and we're filled with existential fear

"What can I say?"

Abbreviations:

BWAGFEO (Basically We Are Gay For Each Other)

NBSII (No But Seriously Imagine It)

PINOF (Phil Is Not On Fire)

TIT (Terrible Influence Tour)

WAD (We're All Doomed)

WDAPTEO (What Dan And Phil Text Each Other)

Inserts:

Get the [Insert noun] out for the lads

"Here's the thing about [Insert noun]"

I'm at the cluuuuub, I need [Insert noun], but in a sexy way

Ph-[Insert almost anything]

The [Insert noun] fic

[Insert literally anything]-ussy

We saw you from across the [insert noun] and liked your vibe

You will get through this [Insert noun]

Other:

2009

2012

2019

2022

2023

🧡 (orange heart emoji)

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Last updated: February 1, 2025

[amethysttribble]

A personal headcanon manifesto:

Maedhros was a brilliant military leader. Able to command respect, love, and fear all at once, adept at soothing egos, but also at knowing when a particular burr needed pulling and not pacifying. He could look at a map and see the full picture for what it was and not what he wanted it to be. He had an innate knack for swiftly deciding how to best allocate resources, both material and in terms of bodies. He could make sacrifices.

His only real fault was his inability- or, Amras suspected, lack of will- to truly read his enemies and make accurate predictions of their next move.

Always getting surprised, Maedhros. He couldn’t stand the prospect of identifying too much with his enemies, both the ones he pitied and the ones he reviled. But, luckily, he had brothers willing to do that for him.

Maglor was his most trusted commander, because he was a damn skilled one, as he was at most things. By Amras’s estimation, Maglor was the only one to inherit their father’s genius- that was, his ability to be near effortlessly good at basically everything he tried- and it showed. It was no coincidence that Maglor was there to cut down Uldor, who he never trusted and privately protested against giving such an important place in their column.

A shame that Maedhros always listened to Fingon over any of his brothers.

Then there was Celegorm, who Amras wouldn’t call a strategist, but had provided invaluable knowledge and expertise in organization. The Hunt of Orome had been the closest Valinor had to a host of warriors, and they hunted not just animals but monsters. Celegorm was the only one among them who knew how to create formations, to run drills, maintain rotations, to organize relief and extraction and medical aid. He’d spent most of the early days as Feanor’s, then Maedhros’s, then Maglor’s quartermaster until someone else could be trained to take on those duties. To say nothing of how his warriors loved him.

To the end, he was the best field commander.

Caranthir and Curufin were no help.

Oh, Caranthir was a dab hand at supply lines and a decent strategist, but he got flustered too easily. If one piece of his intricate plans fell through, he wasn’t able to recover fast enough. He got frustrated, angry, scared. He was much, much better at negotiating trade in his office, where he was given hours and days to think his way through everything thrown his way before he needed to send a reply back. The battlefield was too chaotic for his tendency to focus on one thing and one alone. His greatest strength, and also probably how he let himself be killed by a half-grown archer with shaking hands while trying to save Curufin’s already doomed life.

And the less said about Curufin, the better. He tried too hard at everything; if it wasn’t about measuring up to Feanor, it was about outdoing Maedhros, and that was no way to command men or win a war, to say nothing about stealing cities from cousins. His every move reeked of insecurity and that was a pungent smell.

Amras knew nothing about Pityafinwe’s prowess as a general.

Except, a small part of him that he quickly crushed whispered, his propensity to run.

Amras didn’t think he himself was half bad at it, though he came to the skills late. Only truly after Doriath, when Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin were gone and their number of trusted people were so few. Perhaps he did not have Maglor’s sharp instincts or Celegorm’s deft ease, but he felt he struck a medium in between both their particular talents. As Maglor became more and more reluctant at the end, it was Amras who Maedhros leaned on for Sirion. Cost him his life. Maybe that was actually indicative of a lack of skill. Oh, well.

[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.

[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

[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

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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.

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[mirdanil]

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻ yakuza! sukuna x pampered, stay at home spouse! reader, jjk au, modern stuff, idk what else to put here honestly

****************************************************

The speakeasy was thick with the acrid tang of smoke and spilled alcohol, the low hum of jazz permeating the air as Ryomen Sukuna leaned back in his leather chair, his posture as casual as it was commanding.

His crimson eyes, sharp and cold, studied the trembling man kneeling before him. Blood streaked the Italian’s face, all purple and blotched as he stammered through pleas for mercy in broken Japanese; words tumbling out faster than his thoughts could form them.

Ryomen didn’t bother to respond. His silence, paired with the cruel curve of his lips, said more than words ever could. He gingerly plucked his wedding ring off his finger and set it aside before his fist mercilessly connected with the Italian’s face, leaving it a broken, unrecognizable mess immediately.

Disrespect had a cost, and tonight, the Italians were paying in blood.

****************************************************

They had crossed him. An offense that couldn’t be forgiven. When words failed to curb their disrespect, Ryomen resorted to the language he spoke best— violence. The aftermath was scattered across the back room: broken bodies, their groans a pathetic symphony he dismissed without a second thought. Pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears; weakness disgusted him.

Mercy wasn’t something Ryomen Sukuna gave freely— it had to be earned. And none of them had.

When the room fell silent save for the crackle of Ryomen’s lighter igniting the cigar between his fingers, he cast a glance at his men. The Hara-gumi stood at attention, their faces stone-like but showing respect— and a hint of fear.

“Clean it up,” Ryomen commanded, his deep, rasping voice slicing through the tension. He rose from his chair, adjusting the cuffs of his dark crimson suit as if he hadn’t just doomed the Italians to their fate. Their anguished screams followed him as he stepped out of the room.

The streets of Shinjuku were nearly empty as Ryomen made his way home, the faint glow of city lights reflecting off his car’s windshield. In the passenger seat, a pair of pristine shopping bags sat neatly— though a closer look revealed the faint streaks of blood on the paper handles. Inside were gifts he had picked out for you earlier in the day— nothing mattered more than making sure his most precious treasure was happy.

****************************************************

The grand penthouse apartment in Roppongi he shared with you was quiet when he arrived. He set the shopping bags down in the living room, his sharp eyes catching the faint smudge of blood on one of them. Ryomen clicked his tongue in annoyance but didn’t dwell on it. He shrugged off his coat, tossing it carelessly onto the couch, and made his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom light clicked on, casting a cool glow across the marble sink. Ryomen methodically rolled up his sleeves further and turned on the faucet. The water, warm and steady, ran red as he scrubbed his hands. His movements were practiced, precise, the way a surgeon might handle a scalpel. He rubbed at the creases of his wrists, the dark tattoos glistening as the blood washed away.

This was routine— violence was a language he spoke fluently after all, and blood was simply an occupational hazard. His facial expression was calm and almost serene as he watched the pinkish water swirl down the drain.

A soft rustling caught his attention. Without turning, Ryomen’s crimson eyes flicked to the mirror, catching sight of you standing in the doorway. You were wrapped in a robe, your hair slightly mussed from sleep.

“Did I wake you, my sweet?” Ryomen asked, his voice low and the rasp softened by a rare warmth reserved only for you. He shut off the water and reached for a towel, dabbing his hands dry with an almost mechanical precision.

[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.