#anyway it’s still over i’m just complaining

[spoiledprincessbratspostsblog]

needing

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Warnings: English isn't my first language so I apologize for any and all mistakes. All GIF credits to the owner. Heavy implications of smut but no actual smut. Kind of Toxic!Rafe but idk??This is lowkey rushed but I needed it to get out there lol.

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚

Being JJ’s sister already meant people had a bad perception of you, but your attitude did not help the rumors anyway. You weren’t known for being nice to everyone, and that was fine because it scared the weirdos away most of the time.

You’ve always seemed strong and independent. Insults usually rolled right off you, and situations didn’t seem to bother you. Being hard-headed and having an attitude all the time was a good cover. But it was all a front. At home, your dad would constantly abuse alcohol, and you and JJ often bore the brunt of his rage. When JJ started sleeping at John B’s house and only saw you once a week, you ended up taking most of the hits.

You were friends with the Pogues, but not as close as JJ was, so you didn’t feel comfortable staying at John B’s house.

You met Rafe almost a year ago at a party. It was meant to be an emotionless hook-up and nothing more. But over time, what started as frequent, meaningless sex evolved into a friends-with-benefits situation. You two began spending a lot of time together, both with and without there being sex involved. He started taking you out to places and even to parties with his friends and others around.

But he wasn’t your boyfriend. And every time you attempted to bring it up he'd claimed he “couldn’t be the man you needed.” Despite that, as you grew closer, he eventually learned about your home life. Rafe wasn’t stupid—he knew Pogues had it hard—but he hadn’t realized how much your situation affected you. How you were really a sweet and caring person who had just been hurt by your situation. Once he did learn, he started spending more time with you at his house, claiming, “Look, I know this is just sex, but come on, I can’t have you around that bullshit, ‘kay?”

You didn’t complain—free days at Tannyhill with him were a welcome escape!

Everything was fine until Rafe started treating you like an actual girlfriend. You wanted to be his, but was he really capable? Anyway, it wasn’t what he wanted—he’d made that very clear—so it didn’t matter.

Then, you two got into a bad argument last week. You’d started feeling very dependent on Rafe, and you hated it. So you began to pull back, which only made him care more. One comment led to another, and…

“Rafe, stop. If you’re not my boyfriend, stop acting like you care about me like one.”

“My god! You don’t want me to care about you just ‘cause I don’t wanna be your boyfriend? S’pathetic.”

“Fuck you!” you yelled before storming out.

You hadn’t seen or talked to him since. He was pissed but still wanted to fix things; he just didn’t know how.

That’s when you called.

Your dad had come home drunk, yelling and throwing things. You could no longer bear it. So you called Rafe.

“Hey, I’ll be at yours in like half an hour,” you told him, not waiting for a response.

When you arrived, Wheezie let you in. (She already knew the procedure and wouldn’t snitch,) but she stopped you.

“Hey, you okay? You don’t look okay,” she asked.

You put on your best smile. “Yeah! M’fine! Rafe’s here, right?” She nodded and let you pass.

When you reached Rafe’s room, he was sitting on his bed. His eyes instantly met yours. You climbed onto the bed, inching towards him, and eventually straddled him without saying a word while he stared at you.

“Hi,” you whispered before kissing him.

Rafe, being a man with needs, initially kissed you back. But after sensing something was wrong, he pulled back.

“Nah, nah, you were just over here yelling at me. I’m not mad, okay, but you’re not okay,” he said, concern in his voice.

You frowned as tears welled up in your eyes. “Rafe, m’fine. I’m sorry. You’re forgiven. Please just kiss me. Come on, I just need to forget.”

He kissed you again but stopped when he felt you begin to cry lightly, your breath hitching out of sadness.

“Nah, baby, come on,” he said, pulling you into a hug and holding you tight.

You couldn’t cry in front of him. You couldn’t be so attached to him. It freaked you out, and you tried to push him off.

“Rafe, stop!” you cried, but his grip only tightened.

“What is it? Is it me?” he asked softly, stroking your hair to calm you down. “Your parents?” he whispered.

Finally, you broke down, crying into his chest and wetting his shirt with your tears. Although you had previously confided in him, it had never been like this. He whispered a series of “M’sorrys” as he stroked your hair.

When you finally calmed down, you pulled back and got off him, heading to his mirror to clean yourself up. He stared at you with concern.

“Shit, sorry. Okay, well, m’gonna go now,” you said quickly.

He immediately got up and walked over, towering over you. “The fuck you are. You haven’t told me what’s wrong or why you tried to forget by fucking me.”

“I just needed to forget, okay? No point crying over something I can’t change.”

“Something you can’t change?”

“What?”

“What is the something you can’t change?”

“The situation with my dad and your feelings toward me,” you calmly explained.

“Now, why’d you think fucking was gonna make everything better, huh?” he scolded, switching the topic.

You looked away. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What?”

“I thought you’d no longer be mad at me or wouldn’t care if I was crying if you got to fuck,” you said lightly.

He scoffed in disbelief. “You think that’s the kind of person I am? Baby, I care so much more for you than I’ll ever let on, okay? And this isn’t just sex. You are so much more to me as a person. It’s important to me that you know that, ‘kay?”

You nodded, still waiting for him to respond to your earlier comment.

His face softened. “Look, I wanna be your boyfriend, ‘kay? More than anything, fuck, believe me. But I can’t be the man you deserve. You deserve so much better.”

You scoffed lightly. “But I want you.”

He sighed. “Let me better myself. Then I promise.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead softly. “Stay here tonight, yeah?”

You nodded.

Later that night, as you drifted off to sleep, he kissed your arms, shoulders, and face with gentle affection. “I love you,” he whispered before the both of you fell asleep.

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x gn!reader. a very indulgent soft!blitzø fic for @clovrplayz. when he finds you locked away in your apartment overwhelmed by all your work, blitzø takes it upon himself to try and help you relax for a little while.

featuring: general fluff, reader is gender neutral (only descriptor of body involves them having hair), people-pleasing stress.

You barely manage to look up for more than a cursor second when you hear the door to the apartment open, your elbows planted on the kitchen counter in front of you so you can press the heels of your hands into your temples. You’ve been staring at the paperwork in front of you for so long that your eyes have unfocused, and you blink hard to try and get them working properly again.

“Well, howdy-doody, peachy-babe,” Blitzø sing-songs as he kicks the door closed behind him, shrugging off his coat and tossing it towards the coatrack beside him. He misses; you hear it crumple on the carpet instead. The imp seems not to notice as he makes his way over to you. “You are gonna looooove me; I’ve got—”

Blitzø trails off as he realises you’re not actually listening, and his tone drops to something more subdued. “Hey. You okay?”

You jerk upright as you suddenly feel the touch of his hand on the small of your back; the move knocks the papers further askew on the countertop.

“Hey!” you give him a brief, distracted smile, pushing hair away from your face self-consciously. You usually put a little more effort into your appearance when you know he’s coming over; at the very least you make sure you’ve showered in the last… twenty-four hours. You’re suddenly aware of how tight your face feels around your eyes from a lack of sleep, of the beginnings of grease clinging to the roots of your hair telling you that you really needed to wash it. “Hey! Sorry, did we… were we supposed to have… plans?”

Blitzø raises a brow. “Nooope. I’m just doin’ that thing you totally love where I barge in unannounced and make you do whatever I want to – what’s wrong with you?”

“That sounds like the set up of a joke I’m too tired to make,” you sigh, then wave a hand dismissively as you turn your attention back to the counter. “No, I’m fine. I’m just… I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“It’s Hell,” you point out dryly. “They tend to make most of us work weekends.”

He shrugs, moving to lean against the counter beside you, forcing himself into your line of sight. He stands with his back to it, elbows resting carelessly on top of your work. Blitzø studies your face for a moment before he tries for a smirk. “Wouldn’t have to if you came and worked for I.M.P.”

You give him a tired smile. “You just get your rocks off to the idea of me calling you ‘sir’.”

He grins. “It makes me all tingly.”

You shake your head in amusement. “I appreciate the offer – again – but I told you, B. I can’t leave where I am. They need me.”

“They’re assholes,” he replies. He says it simply, like he’s telling you the day of the week, despite never having met anyone you work with. You tried not to complain in front of him, didn’t you? And anyway, they weren’t assholes, they were just…

“They’re not so bad,” you grimace, trying the tug the papers out from under his elbow carefully.

“They’re manky-ass crotch-jockeys, peach.”

You choke on a laugh despite yourself. “Okay, so they’re not… great, but they’re maybe not… that. And they need me there; I can’t just leave them with all this work still needing to be done.”

A soft, affectionate smile you completely miss tugs at the corner of Blitzø’s mouth, and he rolls his eyes before finally relenting and lifting his elbow so you can rescue those pages. “Aaannnd… are you gettin’ much work done?”

You hesitate to respond, and apparently, that’s all the answer the imp needs. Winding his tail around the leg of your stool, he drags it back from the counter, stepping between you and your work. You make to protest, but his expression is this mix of soft amusement and what you’re surprised to see as genuine concern, and your complaint dies before it can escape you. Blitzø’s hands come up to rest on your thighs, and while the touch still manages to send a blush into your cheeks, his touch doesn’t wander any higher than just above your knee, his palms warming you through the worn fabric of your sweats.

“You need a break.”

You sigh, “I can’t—”

“You’re takin’ a break if I have to sling you over my shoulder and carry you,” Blitzø says, his voice matter-of-fact and bright. You feel his tail brush against your ankle. “So, if you want me to get all grabby on that sweet lil bod of yours, keep arguin’. Otherwise, follow me.”

Blitzø surprises you by leading you into your bathroom – a cramped little room of cold tiles and a bath and shower combination that is a little too small for you to really use the former part of it. Before you can ask what exactly he has planned, he turns and plants his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently down to sit on the mat with your back against the edge of the tub.

You want to ask what the hell he’s doing, but he starts humming to himself as he ransacks the cabinet under the sink, hips and tail swaying cattishly back and forth in time with whatever tune he’s got in his brain. He looks so strangely at home, and it isn’t until he straightens with the cheap detachable shower head hose you had buried at the back of the cupboard that you find words again.

“What exactly do you have that for?”

“Pretty sure it’s not what you usually use it for,” he shoots back, waggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. You snort a laugh, the sound catching as he surprises you by tossing a towel on your head. “Wrap that around your shoulders, perv.”

Confused, you do as he asks, watching him hook the shower head’s nozzle to the bath’s tap. He runs the water, rocking the spray over his fingers a few times until he’s satisfied with the temperature. As the same time his tail collects your shampoo and conditioner from the caddy above him, and your face warms as you realise his intentions.

“Blitz, you don’t have to—”

“Shut up and be pampered, bitch,” he eye-rolls, but his smirk is soft as he moves to kneel beside you. He reaches up to untuck your hair from where it’s hooked under the towel, and you’re not sure if it’s the cooling droplets of water or the graze of his claws against the nape of your neck that makes you shiver. “’Cause if I gotta look at your greasy-ass head much longer you’re gonna put me off pizza for life.”

“Wow,” you deadpan. “What’s this warm and fuzzy feeling in my—”

“Just tilt your head back, would ya?”

You laugh at his exasperation but do as he asks, closing your eyes as the towel around your neck cradles you comfortably against the edge of the ceramic. You’re immediately rewarded with a smile and the sensation of warm water against your scalp. Blitzø’s smile lingers as his hand comes up to carefully smooth your hair away from your face, claws ghosting over your forehead in a way that completely belays his joke about grease. Almost immediately you feel the tension in your shoulders ease, and Blitzø chuckles quietly to himself as he notices.

“That’s it, peach. Jus’ relax, alright?” he says soothingly as he soaks your hair, moving the showerhead slowly over your scalp. “I got you.”

Your tail slips over your lap and you curl your fingers around it, the spade swaying back and forth by your hip. “’Kay.”

You notice Blitzø is humming again when you feel the cold squirt of shampoo against the crown of your head, and you hold back a happy moan as his claws slide through your soaking hair to massage it into the locks. He seems to know just how much pressure to use, kneading his fingertips carefully into the skin behind your ears, into your temples. Your lips part with a soft sigh as he lingers there, working away the tension headache that has been brewing there for the last few hours.

“That’s my good baby,” he croons softly, the warmth of voice curling into your chest the way the steam caresses the bare skin of your arms and neck. He lifts your head slightly to press his fingers into the nape of your neck and your own hands tighten on your tail, the soft scent of night jasmine and bergamot teasing at your senses. You still can’t recognize the song he’s chosen as he continues humming, but it’s soft and sweet and slow… something like a lullaby that makes you want to melt right there into the bathmat.

Blitzø takes his time rubbing the shampoo through your hair, lingering around the bases of your horns where he knows stress can settle. When the water returns to wash away the bubbles you shudder, and the steam clings to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. You want to open your eyes, to see what kind of expression he might be wearing as he does this, but you don’t want to risk ruining the moment.

He conditions your hair with the same care, his fingers returning to your temples and your horns as he gives it time to settle. In any other circumstance you would probably make a joke about how someone who’s been bald for as long as you’d known him knew so much about how to properly wash hair, but right now… Satan, you really didn’t care.

All too soon the water shuts off and Blitzø takes your hand to help you sit up properly again, one hand tucking up under your back to support you. It isn’t really necessary, but you smile at the attentiveness. You find yourself flushing now that the moment is over, and busy yourself with obscuring your face with the towel as you dry your hair so he doesn’t notice.

“Alright, baby, up you get,” he hauls you to your feel, hands wrapped around yours. That warmth lingers in your cheeks, and you try not to let your mind linger on the pet-name he’s just used. “Time for bed.”

“Wh-?” your brow creases in confusion. “It’s like… three in the afternoon! And I’ve still got work to—”

“Right.” You yelp in surprise as Blitzø sighs, nods once, then scoops you up into his arms. He grins at you as your arms go automatically to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck for stability. His hands clutch at your thighs, the small of your back, and you swear you feel his tail curl around yours for a moment before retreating again. “I warned you.”

“Blitz—!”

He ignores your protests as  he carries you into the bedroom, his tail hooking under the edge of the comforter and drawing it back before he drops you onto the middle of the mattress. He clambers onto the bed after you, tugging you back against his chest before you can climb back up off the bed. He tucks his chin over your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your middle, nuzzling into the side of your neck, unbothered by your still-damp hair. “Just shut up and nap with me, alright?”

Blitzø is wonderfully warm against your back, and the soft lilt to his voice is enough to convince you to do as he asks. His breath tickles against the side of your neck, his breathing slowing and becoming more measured as the two of you settle. His tail tugs the covers up over you, and you let your legs tangle with his as you settle against him.

Your breath catches slightly as his fingers curl in the hem of your shirt, his touch barely more than a whisper against the soft flesh of your stomach. Maybe that’s why your voice comes unsteadily when you speak, volume barely more than a murmur. “I do need to get back to work, Blitz…”

He shakes his head against your back, bumps his forehead against the space between your shoulders. “Nooooope… sleep now. Work later. Those assholes will just have to wait.”

“Blitz…”

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he sits up. He grabs at your shoulder, pushing you onto your back. He straddles your hips, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders. It makes your breath catch, and you press your lips together against the flood of butterflies that suddenly swirl up through your middle.

“You gotta take a break, baby.” he tells you gently. He reaches up to tuck hair behind your ear, claws grazing along the line of your neck. “Okay?”

You exhale, give him a reluctant nod. “Okay.”

He smiles, bending down and brushing a kiss over your forehead. He lets his lips linger there for a moment before he pulls away again, and then he lets himself flop down on top of you.

You cough out a laugh as he knocks the air out of you, and he smiles lazily, his chin cradled against your sternum. You roll your eyes and he sticks his forked tongue out at you, but you still reach up to smooth your fingers over his forehead, scratching at the base of one of the spikes between his horns. A purr rumbles through him at the touch.

“Thank you, Blitz.”

His smile twitches wider, his eyes closed blissfully. “Welcome, baby.”

[urinarythreatinfection]

Is This Love?

Luffy x Male Reader. Angst and fluff. I said slowburn but this is more average burn, my bad. 2235 words. Small allusion to Whole Cake Island. Part one, Part two

Desc: Sanji reminisces on his conversation with Luffy with you and then other stuff happens.

Sanji flicks at his lighter, finally lighting his cigarette and taking a breath as he looks onto the night sea. He’s on nightwatch. ‘Well, I was going to be awake in 2 hours anyway.’ He tells himself, considering he wakes up at 5am. ‘Wonder how Luffy’s holding up.’ He remembers that the captain was restless before, he hopes that wasn’t enough to make him fall asleep on duty. ‘I’ll check up on him.’ He turns and walks over to Luffy’s side of the ship, seeing the rubber man laying down on the Sunny’s head. ‘Is he seriously asleep!?’ The chef runs up to the head. “Luffy! Hey!” No answer, but when Sanji hops onto the figurehead to scold him he finds his friend with his eyes open. Awake, just… silent. “What’s up with you?” He’s confused.

“Sanji, can you-”

‘He’s going to ask me to make him something, isn't he.’ It clicks in Sanji’s mind, however..

“-tell me about romantic love.” it isn’t that at all. Sanji’s eyes widen and he almost chokes on his cigarette. Love? Romantic love? And this question is from Luffy!? “...Is this… about (Y/n)?” He asks cautiously and Luffy nods. That explains it. “So this is why you were restless.” He sighs, not knowing whether to be anxious or relieved that this is the reason his captain’s been acting off. “You don’t have to force yourself to learn about it, Luffy. (Y/n) isn’t the type of guy to need that out of you.” A cloud of smoke is let out into the night air. “He’s probably already moving on from it.” Instead of a hum or answer Sanji sees a frown on Luffy’s face. ‘What’s with that look?’

“He’s moving on so easy? He said he was in love with me, but he’s already getting over it?” There’s an upset tone in his voice.

“Why are you complaining about it?” Sanji’s confused, he knows Luffy to be bratty and selfish at times but like this? “Were you planning to just lead him on?” Luffy looks up at the chef.

“Lead him on?” He tilts his head.

“Yeah, string him along. Keep him always loving you even if you don’t feel the same, just because it makes you feel better about yourself. Not caring if it hurts them.” This is disappointing, he’d thought the rubber man’s selfishness would at least not harm his crewmate’s emotions like this. Even if he’s harsh to you due to your status as a man, Sanji still cares for you. However, Luffy scrambles to get up and latches onto the chef, gripping his shoulders.

“Is that what I’m doing!?” He’s panicked, freaking Sanji out a bit.

“If you don’t love someone and just use them to feel better that’s exactly what you’re doing.” Still, he answers. In response to that Luffy slowly lowers himself onto his feet, looking down.

“Using him… Hurting him.” That’s not.. what he wants at all, but he doesn’t want you to stop loving him either. Sanji looks down at his captain and realizes that his face is turning red. He’s using his brain too much.

“Hey you don’t have to think so hard about it.” It’s starting to worry him, what if he overheats or something? “Just don’t lead on someone you don’t love back.”

“But I do love him!” He shouts. “I just don’t know about the whole—in love thing. I don’t like that he doesn’t smile at me like before and that he doesn’t pick me up! He doesn’t even..” Luffy pauses, putting a hand on his head as he speaks in a quieter voice. “He doesn’t even pet my hair anymore. (Y/n) used to do it all the time but it’s been a week since he did it. Even when I did good stuff while keeping my hat off he doesn’t do anything.” The chef goes silent, Luffy eventually continuing. “He said all that stuff about loving me then just.. left me alone.” After a few moments Sanji reaches up and pets the captain’s hair, but the captain puts his straw hat on his head in response.

“Felt different?” The blonde asks and Luffy nods. “Then maybe (Y/n)’s different.” Sanji isn’t a love expert either, but he has felt romantic love before; and had his heart hurt because of it. “It feels different, love like that.”

“Is there something wrong… with me?” Luffy clutches the rim of his hat, stressed. He seems so small like this, so vulnerable with insecurity. It reminds Sanji of his own insecurities, and how this boy, so bright and carefree, accepted all of it. He can’t leave his friend, his captain like this. The blonde puts out his cigarette and takes a deep breath, speaking.

“I’m not going to stand here and pretend like you have no faults or that there’s nothing different about you. You rush into things, hate doing anything you find even a little boring, and do everything you can to empty our fridge. It’s annoying.” He thinks about their journey so far. “But you’ve been my captain and friend for over two years and I know for sure that your faults are a part of you; they don’t make you ‘wrong’. And if it does, then everyone on this ship is the same, because we’re here with you. Including (Y/n).” Sanji’s done bad things to Luffy, to the rest of the crew, and in his opinion he’s the one with the most faults; but Luffy accepted him. “You told me my faults make me who I am, that they’re somehow all the things good about me, so it’s the same for you. You rush in to help people, work hard on things that you love,” The chef looks away. “and, well, in a way breaking into the fridge has made the crew smarter about safety.” He says with a sigh before looking back at the smaller man. “So if you insult yourself like this then you’re insulting all of us, Captain.” Luffy looks up at Sanji, eyes twinkling with the light inside him that had been clouded with insecurity.

____________________

“DID HE CRY!? WAS HE CRYING!?” You grip onto Sanji’s shoulders, shaking him before getting a hard kick to the stomach and falling to your knees.

“Calm down.” The chef says, annoyed. “No, he didn’t cry.” Despite the pain in your gut, that gives you solstice. “He went silent for a bit before smiling and almost suffocating me with a hug.”

“I still made him stressed, though…” Horrible, bad friend, bad crewmate.

“Stop focusing on only that part. I told you this because of what he said, what he did. Luffy is acting differently not because he thinks you’re some sort of creep that confessed to him. It’s because you’re different to him, yet left him alone.” He puts a foot on your head, talking through gritted teeth “You should know by now that leaving him alone is the worst thing you could do to him. He already hates it when anyone does it but now you do it?” It stings but not as much as your mistake.

“I didn’t know I was acting that different, I was just trying to get my mind off of it and let him forget about it too.” The faster you moved on the faster things could go back to normal. You sigh, you can’t believe you’re getting emotional advice from Sanji. He takes his foot off of your head and you stand up. Still, even if you’re different to Luffy it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily love. It could just be a special care, but that could be Luffy’s form of love. Sigh, maybe you’re just making things too complicated. You just don’t want to force him into something he doesn’t feel, making him confuse his platonic feelings for romantic ones because you gain from it. You’re not underestimating him enough to think of him as some sort of clueless baby, he’s got emotional maturity, but the things that Luffy doesn’t know about he really doesn’t know about. You have this knowledge now, about how he feels, but what now? You don’t want to force him, accidentally or not, but you also don’t know if you can just pretend you didn’t hear this. Especially when you know now how stressed it made your captain and love.

“Did you already move on?” You break from your thoughts at the sound of Sanji’s voice.

“No.. I’ve been trying to but I’ve just gotten more used to keeping myself calm around him, trying to be as platonic as I can.” However much you can be with Luffy, anyway. He’s always touchy but trying to endure that adorable behavior is too much for you to handle right now. “Thanks, Sanji.”

“You’re welcome,” He smiles. “I’ll put away the dishes so go think or something.” It immediately fades as the chef puts out his cigarette and makes a shooing motion before turning to the dishes.

‘I’m different, huh?’ You think to yourself as you leave the kitchen. While pondering you spot Luffy and Usopp fishing. On cue, the rubber man moves his hat from on his head to resting around his neck. It reminds you of what Sanji told you, about Luffy keeping his hair uncovered so you can pet it. He must’ve used his haki to check if it was you when he heard the door open. You walk over and Luffy not-so-subtly pushes his bucket of fish where you can see. Usopp, in return, pulls his bucket to be more hidden so you focus on his friend’s. What a bro. You know how he feels now, but you still end up nervous. “Nice catches, Luf.” When you speak he perks up, then looks back at you with shiny eyes. You talked to him!

“They’ll be tasty too!” He says proudly, though he looks strangely tense. You hesitate for a moment before reaching your hand down and petting the rubber man’s head. His eyes sparkle and his smile brightens as he lets out a happy “shi shi shi”, his body untensing. He doesn’t pull away, look uncomfortable, or stare at you weird. You didn’t mess up. You continue to pet him for an unknown amount of time, the both of you relishing in the feeling, before his line starts to move, pulling so hard he almost falls over the railing. You catch him by the back of his shirt, allowing him to plant his feet on the ground and start pulling.

“How huge is this thing!?” Usopp yells as he tries to help Luffy but is stopped.

“I don’t need help, I can do this!” The rubber man tells him, determined as he pulls harder. The fish struggles and struggles but is pulled up and forced out of the sea. It’s giant! The shadow looms over all over you before it flops hard onto the ship’s deck, flopping around before Luffy punches it in the head, finishing off his big catch. The star fisherman hops up onto the fish and yells with his arms in the air. “I dedicate this catch to (Y/n)!”

“To—To me!?” You point at yourself while Luffy laughs, music to your ears. This is why he was trying so hard, why he was determined to do it on his own. It was all for you. His eyes meet yours, bright and joyful as your heart thumps out of your chest. Is he courting you!? Is this courting!?

“I don’t think (Y/n) can eat all of this before it goes bad.” Chopper points out with a hoof on the fish’s scales. Sanji comes out of the kitchen and spots the fish.

“That was the rocking, I’ll have to get working on this.” He says while studying the new ingredient, but the captain shakes his head.

“I’ll do it.” He states, still determined.

“As if! You’d ruin the whole thing!”

“But I caught it for (Y/n)!” Luffy whines and Sanji looks at you.

“For him?” He puts together what’s going on and sighs. “Idiot, how do you expect him to eat it if you make it inedible. Just let me cook it.”

“No! I’ll do it!” He really isn’t relenting.

“Luffy I can’t eat this whole thing, and Sanji can cook it for everyone.” The captain still pouts. “I’ll eat most of it,” You climb up onto the fish and reach your arms out, pulling Luffy into a hug and his eyes widen. “Thank you for catching it for me, I love it.” The captain’s eyes widen and something starts to happen, his face gets hot and he can feel his heart thumping. When you pull away to talk to Sanji about the catch he still feels weird.

“???” “?” He’s dizzy, looking at his hands while confusion fills his head. What’s going on? Did pulling the fish make him tired?? Is it poisonous? But neither Sanji nor Chopper said anything about it. Weird weird weird! You feel a rush of wind as Luffy runs past you, bursting into the ship and past Robin who notices his red face before he’s gone.

“Oh my.” She says with a giggle as she walks out onto the deck.

“Whuh?” You stand there confused. Did he have to piss or something? Robin looks at you, a knowing smile on her face. It seems she doesn’t have to worry so much after all.

There you go chat, pretty gangster right? I was p stumped on it at first after getting the Sanji part done but then got some spark and kept writing. The captain's cute, right? Leave a comment about how adorable the Lufster is if you agree.

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem! Florist!Reader

Chapter Four: Poppies - Imagination

Summary: You finally get to visit Andrew at his workplace, and he discovers a not-so-new way to handle his feelings.

Word Count: 2711

Author's note: Hope you're all enjoying! Sorry again for having such a splotchy posting schedule, between holidays and getting the flu I was... preoccupied. Anyways, have a chapter of your favorite tattoo artist yearning his heart out as compensation 🖤

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @padfootblackswh0r3

fic below the cut <3

It had been three days since you had gotten coffee with him, and all Andrew could think about was you. It was getting a little concerning. Concerning to him, at least. He was a grown man, who was he to have — for lack of a better word — a crush? Let alone one he was too embarrassed to express his feelings for?

It was close to torture, but he had no right to complain. He had brought this upon himself, and he accepted it. He asked a woman, particularly one he thought was beautiful, to get coffee with him, paid for her, and still ended the whole affair with their relationship being at most friends and at the very least acquaintances. Stupid idea, and the definition of a missed opportunity. Alex had already berated him over this decision (“What do you mean you bought her coffee, just the two of you, and you didn’t even attempt to drop a hint that you like her?”). And it’s not like he didn’t torture himself over it, thoughts randomly popping up telling him what he could’ve or should’ve said or done. The regrets he had, no matter how minuscule they were, ate away at him when he had nothing else to think about. All because of a choice he made and a label he refused to give. What a way to self-sabotage.

Everything about you, from how you met to how easily your conversations flowed, was magnetic, pulling his thoughts (and him) towards you. The serendipity of it all was like he had been transported into one of those overly saccharine romantic comedy movies he would sometimes catch his mother watching. What was the term she had used once? A meet-cute?

The slight vibration of his phone in his pocket brought him back to his reality. A call from an unknown number. Usually, he would hang up, or at least ignore it. But he was in between clients, and more importantly, a little bored. So he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Y/N. From the florist.” Andrew let out a sigh of relief at the sound of your voice. “That end of the world you were warning me about last time never happened, so I had enough time to finish your bouquet.”

He chuckled at that, a lighter sound than he intended.

“That’s fantastic. Both the world not ending and the bouquet being ready.”

“Is it alright if I swing by soon?

“Yeah. I’m on my lunch break in between clients, so I’m free.”

“Perfect. See you in…” you paused, which he surmised was you mentally calculating how long it would take you to get there before continuing, “about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

He grimaced as you hung up the phone, and true to his word, he waited. His time was occupied with sketching a design for an appointment he had in a few weeks, Alex hanging around with him. Immediately, everything was put down when you walked in. Fifteen minutes later, just like you had told him, he heard the bell above the door ring. He watched as you opened the door, tightly gripping a vase containing the flowers, letting in a beam of sunlight with your entrance.

“I’ve got one order of a chrysanthemum arrangement for Andrew?” You announced, feigning not knowing who he was.

“Great, you're here. Let me take that off your hands.”

He rushed over and grabbed the bouquet from you, and in a moment he had to remember to thank the gods for later, his fingers brushed yours, making his heart rate spike so suddenly he almost had a medical issue.

God, he was pathetic.

“Thank you so much for this. You never fail to amaze me.”

“Of course. You can keep the vase, by the way. Free of charge.”

He looked down at you, his brows furrowed but a smile still on his face.

“You are physically incapable of not being nice to me, huh?”

“Please. I do this for all of my orders. You're not special,” you joked, and he scoffed in reply.

“Wow… and I thought we were friends!”

“I’m just humbling you a little. Besides, I can't let other customers think I have favorites. It's unprofessional.”

“Favorites? Plural? Do I have competition?”

“Yes. It's you and a little old lady that orders centerpieces for her dinner parties. Don't go beating her up for the top spot.”

A beat passed before a mischievous smirk came across your face.

“Though, I am a fan of a guy that would fight in my honor.”

Not being able to sense your tone, Andrew swiftly changed the topic, unsure and unwilling to think about how he'd throw a punch for you.

“So, you used flower language for this, right? What's it all mean?”

You smiled, and the way your face lit up gave him a rush, a sudden burst of butterflies in his stomach. He listened intently, despite his urges to focus on you and not the words you were saying.

“Alright, I’ll give you a quick rundown of the meanings. Chrysanthemums are joy, of course. There are some sunflowers, specifically dwarf sunflowers, because they represent pride, like how you’re proud of your work, hopefully. Orange roses for fascination. And last but not least, calla lilies for magnificence and beauty, like what you create here. Hopefully you and your colleagues like it.”

He couldn't help the incredulous laugh that cane at the end of your statement.

“Are you kidding me? It's beautiful. Of course I like it,” he reassured. You didn't verbally reply, but the new warmness of your features was all the response he needed.

He paid, making a comment along the way about how he almost left his wallet at home this morning, but caught himself: “I promise I’m not forgetful, just… all over the place.” You listened, seemingly actually invested, and took the money from him once he offered.

“Thank you. You are single-handedly keeping my small business afloat.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, both out of confusion and concern.

“Are you not doing well?”

“I mean, we're making sales, meeting the quotas we should be. Barely. But we're not exactly a hotspot anymore. It's not common for people to get flowers, and if they do they get cheap bouquets cheaply made at a grocery store or online. People these days don't bother to make an effort.”

He observed you as you thought for a moment, a pause only he could have read into. He could’ve sworn you looked him up and down, though his hopeful imagination could have tricked him. There was more optimism in your tone this time around.

“You do, though. Make an effort, I mean. I appreciate it. You might be the only guy I know that does.”

Your words were taken to heart, but he deflected your compliment, fearing he'd become too flustered if he let it linger.

“Is the bar truly that low?”

“That's not low! These days, finding a guy who tries is like winning the lottery.”

You barely gave him time to react before pulling out your phone, which had just vibrated in your pocket.He could already see the disappointment set into your features.

“Crap. I have to get back.”

He offered an understanding nod, knowing as much as he wished he could stay in this moment, reality had to set back in.

“I hate to say goodbye, but it was really nice to see you. And your place of work. Keep me posted on if the flowers help raise people’s spirits.”

“Goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“Quoting The Bard at me? So you’re an artist and a nerd. Full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I am. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out more soon enough. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye.”

The door closed behind you, leaving Andrew feeling a bit emptier now that you were no longer there. Finding the right time, Alex made his presence known again. Andrew was so focused on you he had almost forgotten he was in the room.

“So… that's the Y/N you keep talking about?”

“That's her.”

“The one you platonically took to a coffee shop?”

“The very same.”

Alex gave him a look: a squint accompanied by an oddly pensive expression, like he was trying to make the situation make sense.

“Is something the matter? Do… do you not approve?” Andrew asked. Alex replied slowly, cautiously.

“No, she seems wonderful. No complaints here. In fact, that’s the issue.”

“How so?"

“Maybe because you took a woman, an amazing one at that, on an outing that was a date in every aspect but its name. You essentially blocked yourself off from you two being romantic. It doesn’t make sense to me! How are you the same lad that would write love songs in college?”

“That was a decade ago! I’m more cautious now.”

“Oh, yeah. You're so cautious, in fact, that you started liking your florist. A woman that you've only met four times, including one time where you basically went on a date!”

Andrew felt a shame as if he had just been yelled at by a parent, though most of the sting came from the truth of his words. Only after he exhaled a deep sigh did Alex speak again.

“Listen, I don't mean to scold you. I’m only saying all this because I care about you. That being said, if you don't take this girl out sometime soon…”

“Alex!”

“I’m being serious! I was standing right there. I saw how you look at her and you're… enamored of the poor woman. If you don't do something about the way you feel— doesn't have to be soon, just eventually— then the only person that will regret it is you.”

Andrew gave a slow nod as he processed the other man's words. He hated how wise he could be sometimes.

“I… I need to find the right moment. I need to take my time.”

“Then take it. Just don't bottle up your emotions for too long. You don't handle it well. Plus, after a while of you blabbering on about the same person, it starts to get annoying.”

For the first time since you left, Andrew laughed, Alex joining in a moment afterwards.

“Alright,” he said, slapping a hand on Andrew's shoulder. “Let's get back to work.”

Andrew ruminated on his friend’s words on the drive home, his grip tightening on the wheel. As much as he hated to admit it, Alex was right; he did need to do something about what he felt for you. But he never did specify what.

It had been a while since he felt like this towards someone, so he wasn't lying when he said he needed to take his time. If he were to ever make a move on you, he would have to make sure he was certain. He didn't want to ruin your newly-labeled friendship, run the risk of throwing away something just starting, and something good. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t use an alternative method to handle these feelings.

He stepped into his flat, and for the first time in recent memory it felt… empty. Not necessarily from the absence of friends or family, just absence. The empty seats at his table, on his couch, in his bed, they almost screamed at him. He had never realized that the silence of being alone was so deafening.

What better way to fill the silence than with music?

He got straight to work, his craving to create overriding any hunger for actual food he had. Despite his own better judgement, Andrew had written down the lyric he had absentmindedly created a few days ago in his phone. He considered continuing from there, but preferred to do things the old-fashioned way. So he grabbed a pen, sat down at his kitchen table, opened his notebook, and began to write.

I have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me…

He hadn’t opened himself up to this creative vulnerability in so long, so he was admittedly a little rusty. Words were crossed out, rearranged, and substituted with synonyms if the amount of syllables didn’t fit the rhythm. Eventually, after he had eased into it, it felt no different from when he sketched a stencil or tattooed a client. Oddly enough, the more he wrote and the more effort he put in, the more the lines continued to blur until he felt just as comfortable as he did at his job. Whether it be a tattoo gun or a ballpoint pen, Andrew was always in his element when he had ink.

There was also the added factor of what inspired all of this fervor to write: you. You kickstarted something in his brain, subconsciously flipping a switch. that made him more musical. Before you he would turn on the radio or shuffle his Spotify and merely admire whatever song was playing, but after you came into his life, his thoughts strayed more towards you: I could write something like this. About her.

Should he consider you his muse? He’d decide later on.

Time slipped away from him, to the point that he was shocked to look at the clock and find less than an hour had passed.

One last similarity between the two was discovered. He harbored a similar sense of pride after he had finished— or, more accurately, stopped himself after writing a verse and a chorus. Not a finished verse and chorus either, simply a rough draft to remind him how to get back into the mindset.

The only difference was the audience, or lack thereof. There was no way Andrew was letting anyone see this or even know about it. He would maybe, maybe, consider showing you one day. Even then, he could only imagine he’d want to shrivel up in a corner as you read it, or God forbid, as he sang it to you. He couldn’t dare to think about that now, even though the guitar resting against the wall in his bedroom was almost calling his name. He had to leave it there for now. He could barely handle writing for the day, let alone singing and playing. For now, he was taking baby steps.

Even if he could muster up the courage, there was no chance anything he wrote would be leaving the eyes of his friends and family. He was no poet, and no star. He already had a job that let him express himself and make meaningful pieces of art. For that, he was grateful. He could be happy with keeping the songs for himself, writing for only his own eyes, and letting what he created at his job be for the whole world.

The notebook — funny how such a small object now held a power over him — was closed and stuffed in an empty shelf space in his closet, an attempt at keeping it out of sight and out of mind. His attempt was semi-successful considering every step of the rest of his day was accompanied by the thought of it. Not the shame, just the knowledge of knowing he had written something. The shock of actually having the strength. It stuck with him until he went to bed that night, not even nearing sleep being able to offer him solace. He tossed and turned well into nightfall, until it got to the point that he was getting restless. And desperate. So he picked up his phone. To avoid simply doomscrolling until his eyes began to flutter, he found some website that detailed flower language and started to read.

He willingly went down a rabbit hole, keeping a separate tab open to search for flora he didn't recognize by name. He made mental notes of meanings he found particularly interesting. The last flower he read of before falling asleep was the poppy. It meant eternal slumber, coincidentally what he was longing for at the moment, but also imagination. It was almost perfect how poppies represented the day he had. This was his last coherent thought before he drifted off.

There was a third definition, one that also summarized his day, that Andrew’s eyes didn't stay open to read.

Oblivion.

[cherrysurf]

congrats on your 200 💫💫can i have taro and cherries (friends set us up) as the toppings in waffle cone? i’ll have the cheesecake bites. ill have it with suna rintarou 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Unexpected interest

suna rintarou x f!reader (no proofread)

thank you to @massacremars for helping me figure out the plot for this fic 😞🙏🏻 bless up chat

Osamu was just about sick of hearing you complain about being single and the lack of men at your door “blah, blah, blah yn you know you’re lucky i’m a good friend and i’m willing to listen to you complain about this.” he said slurping on his ramen. “then help me out instead of listening to me complain.” you rolling your eyes “sigh. I don’t know if I can. But I'll try.” he says because he really is sick of this all. “How are you gonna do that?”

you asked quirking your eyebrow at him as you eat your food “i’m going to set you up with an old friend of mine, this saturday get ready i’ll have everything planned and text you the time before hand.” he says smirking at his grand idea “ermmm okay fine.” you say shrugging trusting in the gray haired man’s words—

after osamu had gotten home from yours and his lunch he called up atsumu for his grand idea “sunas still single right?” osamu asked, “Uh yeah, I think so, why?” atsumu said. “you remember yn?” osamu mentioned “oh yeah, how is she?” the blonde said over the phone. “she’s good but annoyingly single and can’t stop talking about it so i want to set her up with suna since he’s coming back to town this week” osamu tells him the plan “ah i see helping her out, so why are you telling me and not him?” atsumu questioned “Because I need you to help me talk him into this date” osamu said “and how will I do that?” Atsumu laughed. “bro figure it out and fast i told her Saturday is gonna be the date.” osamu added “WHAT?! that’s not enough time” atsumu said yelling “work with what i gave ya gotta go bye” osamu quickly hung up the phone. “ughhh i just wanted to sleep bruh” atsumu groaned—

atsumu called suna later that day “yo rin” atsum said “what’s up?” suna asked a bit confused because as crazy as it was atsumu never called out of the blue like this “I was wondering your single? and need some action in your love life because you have none and you don’t want to die alone right?” atsumu added “uhh i guess? where are you going with this tsumu?” he said sick of the blonde haired man and his antics “look osamu wants to set you up with one of his friends, she’s super pretty and cool i think you guys might hit it off, but you’d have to plan the date for this saturday” atsumu said really fast “are you kidding me?” suna said “nah, dead serious come on bro it’s not bad just do it for me and samu” atsumu added “ima do it for the girl because if she’s dealing with osamu and coming to him with her problems she must be struggling” suna said “perfect so text osamu ask for her number and set it up peace out my work here is done.” atsumu said feeling accomplished. “yeah whatever” suna said rolling his eyes.

Texts between osamu and suna;

S: send me that girls number so i can set up the date with her

O: wait u actually said yes?

S: yea?

O: dam, ok here you go (xxx) xxx-xxx

S: thanks

O: lmk how it goes…

Texts between suna and yn

S: Hey this is Osamu's friends, he the one who set you up on a date with me.

Yn: oh yeah, Hey! i can’t believe he actually did LMAO

S: yeah anyways what’s ur name?

Yn: it’s Yn, and you?

S: suna. So for the date i’ll pick you up at 9, dress casual unless you wanna meet there

Yn: no i don’t mind, uhm sure sounds good see you then suna!

S: see ya.

fast forward to the day of the date you’ve haven't been on one in forever so you were nervous about it all especially it being a long time friend of osamu’s and atsumu’s, you may have spent an unhealthy amount of time picking a “causal” outfit but you found one (after many double checks with all your friends) and pinterested many tiktok hairstyles for the days following up to the date but everything went smoothly until you get a text saying he’s going to be on his way, your stomach fills with anxiety because you have no idea what he looks like this was all new to you, surely osamu and atsumu wouldn’t set you up with someone ugly right? right? you try to push down all the worries and woes of your mind and triple check your outfit.

16 minutes later you get a knock on your door and you’re greeted by a tall dark haired man with beautiful green fox like eyes with a beautiful bouquet of lilies of the valley flowers, “how did you know…?” you asked him looking at the flowers, which makes him nervous “uh i asked osamu, i didn’t want to come empty handed” he said shyly “their beautiful….can i go put them away really quick” you say looking up at him which caused his heart to burst and beat like a drum a sensation he hasn’t felt since his first crush. “yeah-h sure” he said, staring at you “cool! I'll be fast.” you say grabbing them as if they were ever so delicate you threw out the old wilting bouquet of flowers and got new water to place the beautiful flowers he got you in, “okay all ready to go, shall we?” you say smiling which only made him more nervous “yeah let’s go.” he said smiling—

Suna was never the super shy type he wasn’t super cocky either, but how can he not feel nervous when he’s in the car with this beaming sunlight next to him, you radiating warmth and love. How could have you been single for this long? He questioned that he was also wondering if the date he planned wasn’t good enough for you now he’s rethinking everything while basically driving on autopilot to the destination. You sat there looking through the window happily. Suna seemed like a nice guy, he was sweet, he opened your door for you which was yes the bare minimum but it all felt so special with him.

The date was a fun night market with food vendors and small shops and fair rides. Your eyes lit up at the lively atmosphere, suna noticed of course he noticed it’s like his eyes were stuck on you this whole time.

After many foods, silly rides, suna almost throwing up, cute photo booth, and petting goats and calling them atsumu and osamu. The night was ending you both got sleepy, as you walk back to the car with a smile and blue tongue from the shaved ice and a small white bunny as a prize from the game suna won it from, and suna with red tongue and a smile on his face seeing you glow and scream in delight at all the rides. He couldn’t be happier that those twins finally did something good for him “thank you for this suna i had a lot of fun.” you say gripping onto his arm “yeah id love to do it again sometime…. maybe something more formal?” he said looking at you to find you with your eyes sparkling “REALLY?! "I'd love too suna” you say staring at him “yeah, and you can call me rin” he said smiling “rin, mmh i like that” you say savoring his name on your blue stained tongue, him engraving the sound of your voice in his brain.

[backtodecembertv]

society if i didn’t have his phone number memorized. seriously.

[lesbianlenas]

bought pre-cut fruit & am finally able to eat fruit 👍 i love fruit but my adhd HATES having to cut things & i cannot just bite into a fruit bc it creates a sensory issue for me when my face gets sticky i can’t stand it so like i have had to narrow down so much the ways i can eat fruit 😭 but anyway being able to just eat it made me actually eat the fruit i am so happy 😩 next i need to get smth that will cut onions for me so i can cook like 90% of the things i want to cook but can’t make myself bc i don’t want to chop an onion so badly…..

[great-tusk]

I was like “oh I wanna finish up some more Miis soon!!!” and then lost my Apple Pencil about 5% of the way through my drawing, so I had to do like 80% of it with just my finger 😭😭😭. And then today I was moving my covers to get comfy in my bed, and it fell off of my bed and ended up on the floor. So at least I have that back for the rest of it.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[simcardiac-arrested]

once again sorry to everyone for bringing this to your dashboards. but some of you are like, genuinely delirious. not even in a funny way. & i hope you die. i hope we both die. hand in unlovable hand etc etc

[e77y]

Why is it so hard to get even an unpaid internship… I am offering to work for you for free……. 😭

[floral-hex]

hi. I’m still alive (mostly).

still moving stuff from one apartment to the next. It sucks. Everything is a mess. I hate stairs and, for some reason, boxes of books are very heavy.

now I get why they call these the dog days of summer, because this shit is ruff 😰

[daddysfavouritewhore]

i want to yell and complain but it’s not horny complaints so i will be hiding in the tags.

[main-character-moment]

Just back from pride and there was a concert and some lovely performances (unfortunately there were many I couldn’t stick around for)

But as the opening act was doing the final song, a group of Palestinian protesters barrelled up onto stage with their banners, and while all the performers held their own well for the most part and were able to finish the performance, it still knocked everyone off balance.

They then stayed onstage and interrupted the next segment to talk about Palestine and how it’s a genocide. How many of the organisations funding pride this year were supporting Israel. And while I know that’s so important and needs to be talked about, it made everyone uncomfortable. No one forgot Palestine at the parade! As far as I could see (considering I missed some of it), nearly all of the groups and floats marching had at least one Palestine flag, and many were chanting and had banners supporting Palestine. There was a lot of support for Ukraine as well, which no one is talking about as much (as far as I’ve seen) since it’s been overshadowed.

It was lashing rain. Everyone was soaked and there was little shelter or seating available, and it was taking a lot from people to stay at the celebrations in th weather, and the mood immediately dropped.

If it wasn’t for the amazing drag king who came on after they were finally ushered off giving an inspiring impromptu speech about the topic and tying it back to pride, I don’t think the choir that came on after would’ve been able to recover the mood on their own.

[victory-cookies]

my holo taco order came in and my mystery polish was one I already have 😭

[arolesbianism]

Ok yeah I’m a little obsessed with them