#been going thru it lads

[miniaturemallow]

Between root canals and getting crossfaded to deal with stress at work and getting lost in skyrim-

Fell off the #voretober2023 prompts for a bit

But here's the ones I missed combined together!

[royaltea000]

he could not control the class 😔

[elation-station]

the town bisexuals are at your door it is time for you to pick a bride

[dutybcrne]

Thinking abt Kae’s Fatui verse,,,,

[kiiozawa]

Hiiii if ur not taking any questions that’s completely okk I just wanted to ask if we can get any deets on the upcoming fics ab sukuna x server!y/n like what it’s ab maybe?? Lovinggg the Drabbles btw have a nice day/evening or night!!!

Much love ❤️

-Anon🥢

Hi!!

Yes I've been meaning to keep writing for sukuna x server! reader, but unfortunately life got me. :') I was in the middle of writing two fics when life decided to repeatedly punch me in the face haha

^literally me trying to rise back up

[tunaababee]

.

[zedif-y]

.

[hdminseon-archive]

━━ : 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 .

DATED:  late february 2023 FEATURING:  hyde academy contestants ( all named ) WORD COUNT:  1,200 NOTES:  kang minseon entering his single father era..........

MINSEON IS PLEASANTLY SURPRISED TO FIND TWO BOXES OF CURRY ROUX IN THE ACADEMY PANTRY. He spends the early hours of his morning cutting onions, peeling carrots, soaking potatoes... It's a little known fact that he makes for quite an excellent cook. — Although it's a skill he hasn't particularly been eager to advertise, he's aware that getting up at the break of dawn and tying an apron around his waist, especially this early into the project, will give others the impression that he is.... always like this. The type of man who can cook. The type of man who will cook. The word 'reliable' comes to mind, and Minseon has to pause in the middle of grating his ginger to smother down a self-deprecatory laugh.

His eyes flick upward to regard one of the cameras nestled in the corners of the kitchen ceiling. Belatedly, he raises a hand in an awkward sort of half-greeting. If any of this makes it on air, he can already imagine his mother talking aloud to her tablet, suggesting additional ingredients for a sweeter taste: apples, bananas, chutney. He imagines his grandfather boasting to his patrons about his grandson, the local celebrity, gathering everyone near the bar to watch things onscreen, giving them all a round on the house. He imagines dear Hwan, smiling widely as he hunches over his phone in the center of his favorite studio, taking a well-deserved break after hours spent pouring himself into his work.

But Minseon is getting a little ahead of himself, isn't he? He has to ace this assignment first. For them.

✧ –––– MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIPS IN A SYNTHETIC SOCIETY : EXHIBIT A, Extended Notes on the Revelatory Nature of Leading a Group .

It's a fresh, hardcover notebook that he bought prior to his departure from Seoul: 200 pages of grid-lined paper bound by a canvas dyed rose ebony. Since Minseon's arrival in Paju, it's already accumulated its fair share of stains — coffee and ink — but it's clear that the principal purpose of this notebook is not to be read; it is to be written in. The first five or so pages are nearly unintelligible: jumble of notes scrawled on a messy musical staff that Minseon clearly gave up on drawing halfway through. The next few pages are little more comprehensible: the lyrics sheet to 'Maverick' is torn and earnestly attached to the journal in parts. Annotations are jotted down wherever there is room for them. — Take a peek?

━━ BAE SUNGHO / LEAD RAPPER & DANCER : There isn't much written where Sungho is concerned. Minseon has idly traced over his name in different colored pens. They've hardly just been acquainted, but even looking at the characters that make up Sungho's name has Minseon's ribs ache with all of the things Sungho is that Minseon himself will never be: adored, desired, loved. He isn't particularly fond of dwelling on it, but the abstraction comes and goes more often than he likes.

━━ JAMIE HAN / MAIN VOCAL | MASON LEE / MAIN RAPPER & DANCER : In between doodles and impromptu games of tic-tac-toe, Minseon has drafted a loose practice & monitoring schedule for Jamie, Mason, and himself. Having spent years in training together, there is an unspoken sort of trust he harbors for both of them, and this trust manifests itself now in the comfort and the knowledge that there isn't a need to worry; Jamie and Mason always pull through. All Minseon needs to do is work out how best to intensify their light, and, rest assured, they will shine.

━━ ROBBY HAN / MAIN DANCER & MAKNAE | SON TAEGYEOM / RAPPER & DANCER : Several group formations are outlined near Robby's name. Minseon had wrestled with distributing positions evenly, but he knows their arrangement still leaves much to be desired. As Robby and Taegyeom had both run into conflicts over parts in the past, Minseon looks after them now with caution. He is cognizant of the fact that, regarding aforesaid conflicts, one of them had taken action as a form of response, and the other, as an instigation. He does not regard these with equal weight.

━━ JUNG JAEYOUNG / CENTER : A quick sketch of Jae's side profile is crosshatched in ink. The page is folded over like an ill-kept secret, on account of the fact that Jae and Minseon are......... friends. At least— they're 'friends' insofar as that definition involves Minseon replaying a very dim memory of folding himself up against the frame of Jae's body. It's not something he remembers clearly, but it's a recollection that surfaces. Constantly.

━━ KANG MINSEON / LEADER & VOCAL : Nothing of note here.

━━ MIZUNO KOTA / LEAD DANCER | OKAMOTO KENTARU / RAPPER : A recipe for Japanese curry is outlined in a bright and bubbly hand, courtesy of Kentaru. On the back of the page, he's written his and Kota's names in kanji, and Minseon has diligently practiced replicating the characters underneath. Prior to filming, Minseon had been worried about getting along with new acquaintances, but he seems to be making a slow and steady progress, despite still being quite clumsy with his feelings.

━━ PARK HANEUL / LEAD VOCAL : There are observations written in the margins next to all of Haneul's parts. Some of them denote modulation, but the majority are there to express admiration: exclamation points, underlines, liberal use of colored pens. If there's one thing Minseon wants to leverage his position for, it's to give Haneul's vocal prowess the recognition it deserves. He'll do what he can to make it happen. He is a weapon, after all— a knife, if only Haneul will learn to wield him.

━━ RYU YISEUL / VISUAL & VOCAL : Beside Yiseul's name is a dark smudge of ink where Minseon had absentmindedly scribbled shapes in the midst of his pensive thoughts. He's been doing that too often lately — thinking — but he doesn't know how else he can find a way to function around Yiseul without his insides turning... molten. It's a work in progress. Minseon doesn't know what Yiseul wants from him, but he thinks it's been made quite clear that, whatever it is, it's not the same as what Minseon wants. ( ... But what does Minseon want? )

✧ –––– MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIPS IN A SYNTHETIC SOCIETY : EXHIBIT B, Breakfast .

It's the soft light of sunrise filtering in through the long, floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the entirety of the west wall. It casts the room in a faint glow and soothes the edges of the Academy's dark interiors, tempering contrast between illumination and shadow. There's the aroma of freshly made curry in the kitchen— eleven portions in a large stewpot, short grain rice washed and cooked. It's a new recipe from a new friend in a new place to call home.

A short ways away, Kang Minseon has tucked himself into a loveseat and fallen asleep there. Beside him is a lukewarm mug of dark roast coffee, untouched. His fingers are curled around the spine of a journal. A pen is tucked behind his left ear. There is a dark streak of ink running from the side of his palm to the center of his wrist, evidence of having been in solemn thought. He looks uncharacteristically at ease now. — Someone has removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose and set them aside. Someone else has draped a jacket over his willowy frame. He looks uncharacteristically held dear now.

So he dreams and he dreams and he dreams.

[alterednoon]

I LOVE MY OC SO MUCH; LOOK AT HIM ENJOYING HIS TEASHSHBSHSHSHSJJSNZ /AFF /JOV

[nerice]

halfway thru breakfast and im alrdy contemplating another floor nap...

[moodycarcass]

In my signature "doing bad" era

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART FIFTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, hallucainations/hearing voices??, inaccurate depictions of medicine, idk how ppl made medicines in 1800s but idc its fiction masterlist a/n: thank u for the love from the hurricane i went thru!! i'm okay and back in business, i love u guys <3 things are gonna get a lil spicyyy

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“Dove,” a voice singsonged, a whisper in the wind that whisked away almost as soon as it appeared.

You halted in your steps, whipping your head around. Standing on the deck, you knew you were alone. You had just been on your way to collect your variety of herbs and powders to teach the Captain of medicine making, yet the sense of dread overtook you the moment you heard your name called out.

Looking out into the vast sea, there was nothing. A heavy mist clouded the air from the storm that was brewing mere lengths away, its arrival unknown. It clouded over the horizon, hiding away what lay beyond in the dull, gray atmosphere.

Yet, Graves had spoken yet again, as if he had sent his voice to travel miles upon miles just to get a rile out of you. It felt like a warning, letting you know he was still present, and very much still attached.

“The one who heals the ill and poor,” Graves echoed tauntingly, a dark chuckle rasping at the end of his words. “The one who has the 141 in knots. That’s you, isn’t it, dove?”

You couldn’t see him, and you weren’t sure whether that was ideal or not. You knew he wasn’t there physically, hell, you weren’t sure it was even really him talking. Your mind could be playing tricks on you.

The words of the prophecy were spoken with such mockery, the ones referring to your very role. The venom in his tone made you queasy. A cold chill dripped down your spine, causing the hairs on your neck to stand.

“Oh, this will be fun,” he cooed. “I’ll be seeing you.”

Stood frozen in place, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the horizon. It was gloomy, and you were beginning to mirror that feeling. You felt toyed with — like a puppet on a shelf, waiting to be used when Graves deemed you useful.

“What are ye doin’ down there, dove?” a voice called. “Looks like ye seen a ghost.”

The faint snickering had you tilting your head up in the direction it came from. Soap sat high up in the crow’s nest, peering down at you mischievously. His broad arms rested on the rim of the nest, leaning lazily.

“I am fine,” you scowled, quickly regaining your composure. Graves crept menacingly in the corners of your mind. “What are you doing up there?”

“She’s a crow’s nest for a reason. I’m watchin’ for the storm, seein’ if I can spot anythin’ out of the ordinary like I’m a bird, birdie” Soap explained with a grin, cocking his head. “What are ye doin’ down there?”

You frowned at him, unamused. “I plan on teaching the Captain how to make medicine,” you replied. “I’m just going to collect my things. It is wealthy to have knowledge in medicines, you know.”

Soap blew out a puff of air, waving his hand dismissively. “If I have any more knowledge up in this noggin’ of mine, it might explode.” He made a point of knocking his knuckles against his head.

“I do not believe there is much in there at all,” you sighed, unable to force a small smile away. Even in times of fear and uncertainty, you couldn’t deny the way Soap put you at ease.

“Ach, yer a bird that bites. What happened to bein’ a sweet bird?” he mumbled in feigned hurt, lips puckered into a pouted frown.

Your smile grew and you shook your head. “Where is Ghost?” you asked. Soap rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twirling into his messy mullet.

“That lad. Locked himself up again, he did. I think the weather’s makin’ him all moody. He helped me out for a bit before goin’ back, so I’m not sure what’s wrong,” he explained sympathetically. There was a hint of hurt at being shut out.

It made you recall the two of them. Embracing. Whispering amongst each other. Ghost, unmasked, leaning into his touch.

You tried your hardest to not let it shift your expression, even if it dug a little hole somewhere in your heart to be reminded of what you didn’t have.

“I see,” you hummed, playing off your tormenting thoughts and shoving them to the side with the rest. “I am… happy that he has someone like you.”

Soap’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He stared at you, confused, before smiling softly. “Ah, c’mon, dove. Ye got us, too.”

Not in the way your heart longed for. But that was a thought that attempted to fiddle with your mind and leave you stranded on an island of foreign feelings far, far away.

You weren’t sure what you desired, anyway.

“Right,” you agreed with a curt nod. “I’ll be going now. Please, do not fall while I’m gone — or do. I have not been able to aid anybody in quite a long time.”

Soap laughed, the sound rumbling you to the core. “Mean li’l bird,” he teased.

With a smile, you continued on to your quarters, shoving any strange ideas behind and focusing on the task at hand. Price was still waiting for you, after all.

Entering your shared space, you nearly cursed the world for putting Gaz in there. While you hadn’t quite avoided him like you wanted to, that was due to the others being around. Now, here alone, was different.

“Hello, Gaz,” you greeted stiffly, giving him a nod. You quickly retreated to your side of the room, which really was Soap’s clutter. You needed to organize it soon or you may lose your mind.

“Dove,” Gaz hummed from where he laid in bed, arms resting behind his head in a lazy position. His eyes followed you like a hawk as you rummaged through the bag taken from your village on your first night with the pirates.

The resources you’d been forced to bring so long ago were now going to be of use, which was something you wished to be excited for—yet, the elephant in the room was a downpour on your mood.

You felt ridiculous. It was not as if you were avoiding him in rejection—it was that it was not rejection that you were avoiding him.

Your heartstrings seemed to tighten and pull whenever he was near, and it made you feel crazy. It felt like you couldn’t catch a break, constantly toying with your own feelings.

What was this feeling of longing you so hopelessly seemed to feel differently with each of them? Was it still the craving for a sense of belonging?

“Is someone hurt?”

You glanced up from your bag, fingers pausing. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization took over and you shook your head. “No. I am teaching Price the ways of medicine.”

So much for avoiding him.

“Is that so?” he asked. You weren’t sure why his tone seemed so… off. As if there were a taste of bitterness to it.

You recalled the night you threw your food at him from the stuffiness of your cell below deck when he had done nothing but try and quench your hunger. He truly was not a fan of you, nor you him. While you were scared, he was protective of his kin.

Now, his tone was a grave reminder of how much time had passed, and how different things were.

You gave him another stiff nod, watching as he stood from the bed. Your heart pounded in your chest, banging against your rib cage with every step he took closer.

When he finally stopped, he was mere inches away, standing tall and proud over you. You focused your gaze on his chest, mapping the loosely tied strings that hung from the middle of his billowy shirt. You were overcome with spikes of awkward anxiety and unable to connect eyes with him.

Seeing this, he tilted his head down, cocked to the side in a mocking way. He forced your gaze to meet his from leaning down alone, and you held your breath at the sight of slight annoyance burrowed somewhere in his expression.

“Are you avoidin’ me?” he asked lowly.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat. Your hands grew clammy, and you couldn’t take them out of your bag to wipe them on your dress or else he’d know.

“No,” you stammered, frowning. “I am just— Price is waiting for me.”

Was he angry that you did not reciprocate a kiss? It was not your fault—you had never shared one.

“There is no playful banter. Nor even a gaze in the eye,” he commented.

“I am looking at you right now,” you defended weakly.

“What you’re doin’ is actin’ different,” he said slyly, mirroring your frown. “What, you hand me a gift, a beautiful one, and now that I have read the signs wrong, you wish to hide from me?”

“That—” You inhaled sharply. “That is not what is happening.”

“So, I have read them right, then.”

“I do not know what signs you are referring to.”

“Don’t be daft, dove.”

Your fingers tightened around a small jar in your bag, knuckles going white. You wanted to avoid the forced eye contact altogether, but now you could not look away. It was as if you were in a trance.

“It is improper to refer to a woman as daft,” you hissed in defense.

“You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met,” Gaz mused, his head tilting once again.

This is what he wanted, and you were giving it to him. He wanted the banter, the jests, to see you grow irritated to tug a reaction from you, and unfortunately, it was working.

“You have never been kissed before?” he continued.

Your ears were beginning to ring. Your entire body felt hot to the touch, like a scorching fire burned through your veins and trickled its way up to your brain.

“That is inappropriate, Gaz,” you tried, though your defense was weak. He was right. He was always right, and you hated it. “I must return to Price. I—I cannot have this conversation.”

“You will have to avoid the whole sea if you believe I am the only one,” he stated calmly, growing soft now that his initial annoyance was wearing off. “Do not make me the one to suffer.”

You stared at him, mouth opened to speak but the words lost in translation. You felt like you were betraying yourself by choosing to avoid him out of mere uncertainty. You were only doing a disservice to yourself.

The words he spoke laid heavy on your mind, but you were unable to decipher the true meaning. Perhaps you were avoiding that, too.

The two of you said nothing, sitting in tense silence as you hurried to throw your bag over your shoulder. You didn’t want Price to slam open his door and search for you, believing you accidentally fell into the treacherous waters and sunk below the angry sea.

You shuffled to the door, hand hovering over the handle. You risked a weary glance over your shoulder, seeing Gaz standing and watching you with keen eyes, a glint of something unrecognizable in them.

You had nobody else to feel sorry for but yourself.

“I will not avoid you,” you muttered quietly. “I do not think I have the strength to do so, anyway. Not with you.”

You tugged open the door, excusing yourself.

The chill in the air was refreshing against your warm skin, cooling off the heat that radiated off of you like a furnace. As you returned to Price’s quarters, your mind was scrambled, overloaded with millions of thoughts that plagued you.

The wind rustled and blew, and you could only pray there wasn’t a familiar whisper hiding in its trail. It seemed as if the universe had plenty of tricks up its sleeve today, and it was dealing them all to you one by one.

When you looked up at the crow’s nest as you walked by, Soap remained. He gave you a smile when you passed, and it made the worry in your stomach simmer to a low boil.

“You took quite some time,” Price noted as you stepped inside. “Did you walk the plank along your way?”

You chuckled, shaking your head and shooing the bag off your shoulder. It fell to the desk with a small thud. “I ran into Soap,” you explained.

“I see.” Price smiled in acknowledgment. “Alright, dove. Let’s begin, hm?”

“You are not very good at this.”

You watched as Price attempted to grind a mix of herbs and powder in the bowl you lent him. Teaching him how to make a paste meant for burns proved fruitless, as he seemed to mess up the measurements when you weren’t looking.

“That’s why you’re the expert, dove,” he huffed in annoyance, laser focused on grinding the end of the wooden stick into the roundness of the bowl, mashing down the mixture. “I do not see how this will become a paste.”

“Did you mix in the drops of water like I told you?” you asked.

He glowered at the clear dropper you held up, which seemed just as full as when you first started. He snatched it up, squeezing a couple of drops into the failed paste for good measure, then continued mixing.

“Was I correct?” you teased, peering down into the bowl. You were pleased to see it mixing much more smoothly, almost like thick butter.

“Silence,” he grunted, shooting a weak glare your way. “I pray this medicine proves to be useful.”

“It is for burns to ease the flare up of the skin,” you explained, keeping an eye on the mixture. “I am sure it will come in handy.”

Price hummed, mashing the paste until he seemed satisfied. He shifted the bowl towards you, waiting for approval. The idea of it made you snort—a Captain, seeking approval from his ex-prisoner.

“It is not bad,” you praised, earning him a furrow of his eyebrows. “Much better after the water.”

He gave you a look, unamused, eyeing you as you shoveled the paste into an empty jar. You were happy to add it to the collection, though you wished you had the opportunity for a room for yourself to display them. Soap and Gaz’s room was feeling crowded.

“I am only teasing,” you said with a smile. “It’s almost as good as mine.”

Price snorted, smiling back. “Aye, I’m a Captain, not a medic. That’s your specialty,” he retorted.

“And will this medic ever get a room of her own? Or perhaps a place to work?”

He raised an eyebrow. You mirrored him. “Are the boys not fun to room with?”

Images of Gaz earlier flashed in your mind. You swallowed. “No, they are just fine. But I am a woman, after all. It is not��� suitable.”

Price made a noise of acknowledgment, nodding slow. He seemed to be thinking, a hand brushing through his beard and stroking his bottom lip.

“That is… understandable. Forgive me, I have not had a woman on my ship until you. It slipped my mind that you roomin’ with those two may not be entirely appropriate,” he replied thoughtfully.

“You forced me to sleep with you on my first night out of the brig,” you reminded him.

Price paused his stroking, blinking at you. For a moment, you lost him, his mind running astray. You could only stare back patiently.

“Would you prefer to stay here, then?” he asked. “You may find much more peace in here than with them., or if you'd like, you may switch off between quarters.”

You felt your body tense up at the mere thought. You knew no matter who you stayed with, it would be a gamble. Each of them had your heart on lock in an unfamiliar way, and the thought of staying with Price again had your stomach twisting into knots.

Gaz popped up once again, and you wondered if that decision would solidify your act in avoiding him. A pang of guilt hit your chest.

“You would not mind?” you asked wearily.

Price shrugged. “I may prefer it, actually.”

Your expression morphed into confusion, eyebrows pulling together and lips curling into a frown. He’d prefer to spend nights with you, rather than allowing you to cram into a small bed with Soap in the late hours of the night?

You thought the Captain valued his privacy and solitude. Now that he was offering you to stay on his own rather than out of fear of you running off to islands unknown, it felt much more personal.

“You’d prefer it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Why?”

The Captain paused, narrowing his eyes at you. You were curious at to what he could be thinking about.

The door to his quarters opened, silencing your conversation rather quickly. The wind sounded much louder now without barriers between the inside and outside, and when you whipped your head to look at the doorway, Soap stood, drenched in water.

You were so focused on your time with Price and your craft, you hadn’t noticed the uneasy rockiness of the ship that seemed to grow with every second.

“The storm’s brewin’ real fast, Cap,” Soap breathed, lightly heaving. He must’ve climbed down the nest in a haste. “We need to get her steady. It’s comin’ down faster than we thought.”

The Captain stood quickly, giving him a nod. “Go collect Gaz and Ghost,” he ordered. Soap agreed, tossing the door closed and leaving you alone. “Dove, you’re stayin’ here.”

“I must be of help—”

“Here,” he repeated, tapping his finger on the desk. “That’s an order.”

You wanted to protest, but the look on his face was gloomy. You watched him leave his quarters and enter the battlefield of heavy rain that spilled over on to the deck.

Something in your heart tugged, but this time, not out of longing, or envy—it was worry. Sure, you faced many storms in your village, but never on a ship where one wrong move could send you right below the waves and have you never come back up again.

You felt helpless as you sat, thumbs twiddling mindlessly in your lap as you hoped and pray the ship would become steady enough for them to return to safety.

“Dove.”

The crashing sound of cracking thunder had you jolting in your seat. You did as the Captain ordered and stayed put, but you were becoming restless. The longer you stayed, the more your feeling of cold dread grew.

You knew where it was coming from. It was the very thing living inside your head, and you wondered if Ghost could hear it, too.

You couldn’t sit anymore. You got to your feet, quickly throwing open the door to a monsoon.

The ship swayed with the heavy, angry waves that crashed harshly against the sides of the ship. It made you lose balance, and you grabbed on to the doorway to steady.

Gaz and Soap stood under the rainfall, water soaking into their skin and clothes as they heaved the sails closed, holding the ropes to guaranteed they stayed.

Ghost was lifting heavy baggage that had yet to be stored away, thrown over his shoulder as he hurried to transport them to a dry part of the ship.

The Captain stood at the helm, his hair flat against his forehead and dripping water all the way down to his beard. He was mastering the steering of the ship, barking orders at Soap and Gaz while the two attempted to keep the sails at bay.

“Isn’t this fun, dove?” Graves whispered. You wished you could claw out your own eardrums.

You knew he was near. Before, you couldn’t feel his presence—now, it felt stronger than ever.

You frantically looked around, hoping to spot him somewhere out at sea, but the rain was too heavy. The sky had been darkening, giving off an ominous hue covered by storm clouds. You wouldn’t be able to see him from below.

Your eyes landed on the crow’s nest, the net of rope leading up to it swaying in the crazy wind. Soap had been up there mere hours ago, watching the storm and charting its location.

Without a moment of hesitation, you sprinted in the cold rain, heading towards your destination.

“Dove?” Soap called out in confusion, before recognizing you. “Dove! What are ye doin’?”

You began your ascent, just as Gaz had joined in calling for you. With them unable to leave the ropes of the sails behind, they couldn’t chase after you, stopping you from your foolish moment of cleverness.

“What the hell is she doin’ out?” Price growled, his firm voice quieter in the winds chasing it away.

The rope creaked as you planted your feet in the gaps, climbing your way up to the nest. The higher up you got, the more the breeze increased its abuse, whipping along your face in a serious of angry smacks.

The pirate’s voices grew farther away as you approached the crow’s nest. Their tones were ones of concern, fear, and worry as you scrambled your way on to the rugged, old wood platform, hauling yourself up.

You needed to know if your thoughts were true—if Graves truly was here, or if it was another one of his tricks.

You stood on the crow’s nest, holding yourself steady with a firm grip of the sides. You looked out into the void, scanning for anything, any sign—and there it was.

A ship, not too far off in the distance, swaying with the waves with its front nose pointed in the direction of your ship. A large sail flapped in the wind, and it was so misty you nearly couldn’t see it until a familiar white outline of a skull appeared, waving as if saying hello.

Graves was setting sail right towards the ship, and he had every intention of riding out the storm until he reached you.

[kybercrystals94]

This has been sitting in my drafts just chilling. Just a silly, “modern au” of the Batch trying to order coffee from a drive thru coffee shop.

*inspired by true events*

Coffee Shop

Hunter: Alright, lads, we’ve got 3 cars ahead of us to figure out what we want before we get to the speaker box.

Tech: That is an excellent theory. The execution, however—

Hunter: Wrecker, you first.

Wrecker: I can’t see the menu from back here.

Tech: You always order the same thing. The menu is irrelevant.

Wrecker: I might change it up this time.

Crosshair: And I might give up toothpicks. Get him the usual.

Wrecker: Hey! You don’t even know what my usual is!

Hunter/Crosshair/Tech/Echo: A large s’mores frappe, extra sweet, extra whip cream.

Wrecker: It’s kinda weird you guys know that.

Crosshair: It’s kinda weird you think that’s drinkable.

Hunter: Wrecker, is that what you want.

Wrecker: … No.

Hunter: Then what do you want??

Wrecker: I can’t see the menu! Cross, can you —

Crosshair: No. I am not reading you the entire menu.

Wrecker: Awwwww…

Hunter: Tech, what do you want?

Tech: I am still deciding.

Hunter: Decide fast. Two cars left. Echo?

Echo: Americano.

Hunter: Hot or iced?

Echo: Eh, iced, I guess.

Hunter: Thank you. See, boys? Was that so hard? Cross?

Crosshair: Two burnt shots over ice.

Hunter: … Are you serious?

Crosshair: As a kriffing heart attack.

Hunter: Fine. Wreck, back to you.

Wrecker: Tech should go next.

Tech: Wrecker, we all know you are going to order the same thing as always. Just order it!

Wrecker: No!

Hunter: Tech, what do you want?

Tech: Wrecker is being unreasonable.

Hunter: Tech—

Crosshair: Just get them both the same as me.

Tech/Wrecker: No!

Hunter: Then what do you want?!

Tech: FINE! I’ll get an iced matcha.

Hunter: Wrecker?

Wrecker: Uhmmmm…

Hunter: One car…if you don’t have it figured out by the time I get to that speaker box, you’re getting a small water…no ice.

Echo: Ooh. That’s cold, sarge.

Tech: Actually, it will be likely be room temperature.

Crosshair: *snickers*

Wrecker: That’s not fair, Hunter! I haven’t had time to think!

Hunter: They’re pulling forward. We’re moving…closer…closer…

Wrecker: FINE! I’ll take my usual.

Tech: I knew it!

Wrecker: I had no other choice! Cross wouldn’t read the menu to me and Hunter was pressuring me to decide…

Hunter: *pulls up to speaker box*

Barista: What can I get started for you?

Hunter: Can we get a large s’mores frappe, extra sweet, extra whip cream. An iced americano. *sigh* Two burnt shots over ice…

Barista: You said two burnt shots over ice?

Hunter: … correct.

Barista: … alright. Anything else?

Hunter: Yes, and an iced matcha. That’s it.

Tech: Hunter…

Hunter: No one is changing their order…

Echo: But…

Barista: Great! I’ll have your total at the window.

Hunter: Thanks. *pulls forward*

Crosshair: What did you get, Hunter?

Hunter: I got … Kriff.

Tech: I tried to tell you.

END

[sketchy--akechi]

HELLO I'M ALIVE!! I WILL BE FULLY BACK SOON. graduation year has been hellish so far but we're getting there lads. i have some new shuake planned tho and i will go thru my inbox soon so pls be patient with me 👀

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 168 spoilers and thoughts that IM NOT LATE WITH FOR ONCE! KIND OF! YAY! and more below the cut

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OKAY. OKAY CAN WE TALK ABOUT THESE TWO PANELS WITH LLOYD AND JAVIER REALLY REALLY QUICK. i would save this for the end of the post since its closer to the end but im super impatient okay what else can i say. LOOK AT THE WAY JAVIER IS LOOKING AT HIM

HE IS LOOKING AT HIM SO DAMN FONDLY. WHAT THE FUCK. THERE IS WARMTH IN THAT GAZE I SWEAR TO GOD IM NOT CRAZY. "you're such a terrible person" AND HES LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. crazy. CRAZY.

the adaptor knew what they were doing . i swear it . like "yeah thats MY evil boyf. he's back to being evil and lively and his perfect bastard self." I SWEAR IT I SWEAR IM NOT CRAZY

this is proof of llovier. im so serious dont even joke lads

back to the top!

not much to say here lloyds expression is just so real sobs yeah . yeah,,, older gens having goofy ass back and forths over things that really arent the main issue here is universal

like i dont quite remember what season theyre in now but its past winter by this point and based on the two panels showing the time of day they had to have been arguing about this for AT LEAST FOUR HOURS 😭 LIKE WHAT THE FUCK (idk how accurate that estimate is im notoriously bad at time but still. a long fucking time) these BUFFOONS

also lloyd being dramatic as hell is so fucking silly HAHAHAHAHHAA

AND THEN THE LORDS FUCKING STARING AT HIM WHEN HE BRINGS UP THAT HE HAS AN IDEA. HELPPP all eyes on lloyd now !!! what brilliant idea do u have next thats absolutely totally not secured through lowkey social engineering!

so so SO happy w how confident he looks here heehee :3 whats with the pose tho lol is that a reference? maybe?

anyway they plan to make a train thru the pantara mountains? vantara? pan,,, idk what the correct translation is ive seen vantara and pantara

also lloyd just knowing exactly how to talk to those old ass political lords and understanding how to string them along idk what it is but i really really like that, it makes sense to me personally

i figure that thats probably something suho just Had to pay attention to back in korea, idk how korean politics works exactly but i imagine the principle of "person in charge can make or break a lot of things" still stands

so like it'd make sense that he pays attention to whoevers in charge of the finance stuff, which political figures care about money, and where that money goes, bc if they fuck with the funds for education thatll directly screw him over. idk if korea has financial aid but whatever equivalent that is that allows suho to get scholarships n stuff so he can stay afloat, if someone comes into power that will negatively affect his odds of getting that funding, he'll need to know and prepare! though maybe this is reaching a little too deep it might not be That Serious lmfao

again i really like how many of these confident / plotting expressions have been showing up IM SOO SO SO HAPPYYYY my schemer my little scheming guy he's BACK HES BACK

the two of them also look really really nice here in these two panels for some reason. i think im going crazy. i dont know why i like these panels its just. !??!?!?!?!??! like javiers hair is completely messy but idk i just ?!?!?!?!? im completely aro so its not like an attraction or anything but idk!?!??!?!?!

finally our first look at the overworld demons!!! these two kiddos seem super cute i really hope they dont . misunderstand or anything and that lloyd and javier can have some fun and heartwarming moments with them,,,, more sillies and soft fluff please!!!!! thats all i ask!!!!

okay that's all! not much to say this episode is just really really cozy to me. ok well as cozy as "lloyd frontera making evil expressions" can get LMFAO it feels like build up into the next section and im really excited to see what he's gonna do with this train idea and with the overworld demons...!!!!!

there was a notice at the end of the ep that the artist is taking a small break for their health so no ep next week, but there'll be one the week after i believe. we must be patient!!! rest well artist!!!!

that's it ill see yall in. two weeks? ill probably have some other yap post for the hiatus week idk, it depends on how my schoolwork goes. see yall then!!!!

[notsoattractivearenti]

Golf Practice (Mason Mount x Reader)

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: sexually suggestive language, cursing (minors be warned)

A/N: even tho i didn't know anything about golf, i wrote this just cuz i can't resist golfer!mase (i did some research and still don't get golf lmao). also this has been sitting on my draft for a while and i forgot to post it 💀 hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 this was not proofread so apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

“Y/N, are you ready?”

“Wait, wait,” you fixed your shirt, grabbed your golf cap – which Mason just bought for you recently just for this occasion – and put on your shoes.

You closed and locked the bedroom door. “Okay, let’s go.”

Mason took a good look at you and couldn’t stop himself from complimenting you.

“My God, Y/N,” he gulped, “you are so fucking sexy.” 

“Oh pfft,” you tried to cover the fact that he instantly made you blush, “just keep your pants on, mister.”

“Seriously though, I really mean what I say!” He laughed.

“You look so good it’s almost hard to resist.” He continued.

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever, can we please just go???” You insisted.

“Okay, okay, off we go then.”

He grabbed the car keys then playfully slapped your butt before he sprinted his way to the car.

“Wha- Mason!” You gasped.

—

You and Mason finally arrived at the golf course. You have never been to one before, and you were a little bit stunned when you saw how big the course was.

“Mase… I thought we were going to like, smaller golf course or something.”

“Hmm, I don’t know what made you think that but this is the place I usually play with the lads.”

“And now you’re just playing… With me?”

He laughed at your question.

“Duh, this is a date, no?”

“Yeah…” You scratched your head. “I mean, I feel like this is way too big for just us. Also you know I’ve never played golf before and this kind of makes me nervous.”

Mason then leaned in and kissed you on the top of your head.

“Don’t be nervous, my love. We’re here to just simply have fun... I will teach you if you want.” He softly assured you.

You knew it was just for fun, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit – no, not a bit, very – competitive. You’re aware you can be a sore loser sometimes, and though Mason has seen that side of you a few times, you still didn’t want to be a pain in the ass when losing especially on a sport you have not even one clue about.

“Okay, but you know I still want to win, right?” You bluntly told him.

“Of course.” He nodded and smiled.

“But just so you know, I’m so good at this you probably have little to no chance of winning this time, Y/L/N.” He said smugly.

“Oh, it’s on like a prawn who yawns at dawn, Mount.”

—

The entire time, Mason was the one driving the golf cart. You both were chatting away while your eyes were wandering around the course.

“Imagine having a course this big in your backyard,” you said to yourself, “pretty hard to maintain, I assume.”

“I mean, you sure can pay people to take care of it.” Mason chimed in.

“Yeah, if I have the money to pay them.” You shook your head.

“If you have a golf course in your backyard, then you must definitely have tons of money beforehand, Y/N!” He laughed.

“Do you see our future house with a golf course, hun?” You asked him.

“I don’t know, maybe?” He answered. “But I want a small football pitch more, though.”

“Yes, that sounds more like us. I like that idea as well.” You agreed to him.

“I would love to practice with our kids there one day. That would be great, right Y/N?”

You smiled. You do love the idea of playing football with your future little family in the backyard one day.

“Sounds wonderful.”

—

“Okay, I’ll go first.” Mason said as he took two golf clubs from the bag, then handed one for you.

“Watch how I play closely, yeah?”

“Mmm, gladly.” You responded jokily, as you stood slightly behind him.

This time, you made him blush. He shook his head and cleared his throat, then fixed his posture before making a move.

“Nice butt, by the way.” You teased him.

“Y/N!” He briefly tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes. “Focus, please.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” you giggled, “go on baby.”

He got into position and swung the club. You both then carefully watched where the ball landed.

“Alright, that’s my mark,” Mason pointed out at where the ball was, “try to hit your ball further if you can.”

“But I doubt you can.” He sarcastically murmured.

“Uh, I heard that!”

You then walked back to the initial spot and tried to imitate Mason’s posture before swinging the ball.

“Mase, is this correct?” You asked.

“Hmm, not quite.” He replied.

“Is it alright if I stand behind you to help?” He politely asked – a real gentleman he is.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You agreed. “Just try not to get hard, yeah?”

He immediately snorted and laughed.

“I’ll take my chances.” He funnily responded back.

He stood right behind you and started helping fix your posture until it felt right.

“Don’t hold back while swinging. Put your full strength on it.” He suggested.

“Like this?”

You gave yourself a try at swinging the golf club. You didn’t see it but you almost hit him on the head with the club.

“Whoop, careful!” He put down the club. “Here, I’ll guide you.”

He put his arms around yours and carefully guided you the right way to swing. With him gently helping you this close, you couldn’t exactly pay good attention to what he was trying to teach you. 

“This feels so intimate.” You blurted it out.

He chuckled.

“Focus, Y/N. You want to win, no?”

You nodded. My God, I love it when he is in this serious mode, you thought to yourself. The truth was you started to feel slightly turned on, but you were trying to resist your urge since you also genuinely wanted to learn how to play golf – you were basically fighting for your life. You were supposed to learn and practice with your “personal coach” but your mind was filled with filthy thoughts about the things you wanted your boyfriend – who was guiding you through your first-ever golf game at the moment – to do to you.

“Y/N, are you still with me?”

Whoops, you just realized you were so caught up with your thoughts you were spaced out for a bit – and of course Mason noticed.

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Sorry.”

After a few tries, you told Mason you finally felt ready to take your first swing. He stepped back and cheered you on.

“Let’s go my love!”

You got into position then tried to swing your golf club, but you failed to hit the ball. Both you and Mason suddenly burst into laughter.

“Y/N, you’re the prettiest but what a terrible golfer you are!” Mason made fun of you.

“Shut up Mase! That was only the first try!” You defended yourself.

You gave it another try, this time you did hit the ball but it was definitely not a good shot. The ball only landed around 30 centimeters across from you – you didn’t hit the ball hard enough and obviously, Mason’s was way further.

“Fuck!” You yelled in frustration.

“That’s fine, baby, you’re fine!” Mason rubbed your shoulders and kissed your head. “Well done nevertheless.”

—

At the end of the game, it was clear that Mason won. You don’t like to lose, no, but you were totally fine losing to him since golfing was very new to you. But for someone who could be very impatient most times, golf actually helped you exercise your patience even for a tiny bit. At the beginning, you repeatedly expressed a lot of frustration especially when the ball didn’t get into the hole, but slowly you learned how to be more calm and eventually after a few rounds less swear words came out of your mouth. Also, having a cute, hot date did make it a lot more fun.

Mason was happy to beat you but he lowkey wanted you to win – just because he loves to see you win. He never thought you would agree on a golf date, knowing you have never played before or have never shown any interest in the sport. He initially thought of doing miniature golf with you, but somehow he changed his mind and brought you to an actual golf course instead. He even bought you a brand new golf cap merely because he got so excited to go golfing with you. He also really enjoyed helping you practice, he thought it was the best thing that happened today.

“This was so fun, my love. Thanks for doing this with me.” He said at the end of the date.

He then gave you a quick kiss on your lips.

“Fun for you, meh for me.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“What can I say? I’m just that good.” He bragged.

“Mmhm, I’ll give it to you this time. Next time, I’m going to beat your ass.” You said to him.

He grinned widely and patted your head.

“Sure, kid. Looking forward to the next one. And the other next ones.”

—

Now back at home, after you changed your clothes you saw Mason sitting at the backyard, cleaning the used golf clubs before storing them. You decided to join him there – you quietly approached him then hugged him from behind. He was a little surprised – even jumped out of his seat a little – when you did that but he tried to hide it from you.

“I knew you were coming, I can smell your perfume from afar.” This was his attempt to save his face.

“Oh I believe you.” You giggled as you kissed his cheek.

“You know, Mase,” you gently caressed his arm and seductively whispered into his ear, “I would very much love it if you smash me like you smashed the golf balls today.”

His eyebrow was raised quickly and he immediately turned his head towards you.

“Oh, really?”

You smirked.

“Mmhmm… Consider that as your prize for today.”

“Yeah? Do you really want me to uh, “smash” you as hard as I did to those balls?” He bit his lip as he teased you.

“Harder.” You emphasized.

“Well, since you asked for it…” Mason stood up, picked you up then started kissing your neck and lips, “it is my duty to deliver.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover