#Second Hand Food Processing Machines

[indiabizzness]

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[milo-is-rambling]

I wonder how many factory line jobs shown in the early seasons of this show (Unwrapped) have been replaced (partially or fully) by machinery now. Hmm.

[solaceseven]

high school sweethearts

pairings: gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader, sukuna x reader

summary: jjk characters as high school boyfriends

genre: fluff

SATORU — steals your notebook just to doodle silly hearts and stars in the corners, grinning when you notice. sends you selfies with dumb captions like, “thinking of u during math :)” always ends up next to you, even if it means switching seats without permission. buys your favorite snacks from the vending machine. drapes his jacket over your shoulders when you forget yours. always has to be touching you in some way—holding your hand, resting an arm around your shoulders, or tugging you closer by the waist as you walk. playfully tugs at your hand in the hallway until you finally hold his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly. steals kisses when no one’s around, his laughter soft and warm against your skin. is the class president but lets you get away with anything, flashing you a cheeky grin whenever someone calls him out on it.

“satoru, i have to go,” you mumble against his shoulder as he traps you in a loose hug, swaying both of you gently in the empty hallway. “five more minutes,” he says, voice muffled as he presses his face into your neck. “you said that five minutes ago.” “exactly, so one more won’t hurt,” he grins, pulling back just enough to steal a quick kiss. you laugh softly, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “i’m seriously going to be late.” “nooo, wait,” he whines, tightening his arms around you for a second before giving you another kiss, slower this time. you sigh, smiling against his lips. “you’re impossible.” he grins, leaning his forehead against yours. “yeah, but you love me.” “unfortunately,” you tease, finally breaking free. “hey!” he calls after you with a pout. “at least say it back!” you glance over your shoulder, rolling your eyes playfully. “i love you too, now go to class, dummy.” he chuckles, watching you leave.

SUGURU — always waits outside your class, no matter how far his own is, greeting you with a soft smile and a quiet “ready to go?” ties your scarf for you when it’s cold, his touch gentle and thoughtful. listens patiently to every rant, every story, every little detail about your day. lets you nap on his shoulder during study sessions, brushing his fingers through your hair absentmindedly. helps you study, sliding his notebook toward you with the answers already written out, whispering, “i’ve got you, don’t worry.” if you get frustrated, he chuckles softly, resting his hand over yours, “relax, you’re smarter than you think.” soft smiles across crowded hallways and even softer glances when you’re not looking. and if you don’t like someone? he doesn’t either—no questions asked. “if you’re not a fan, why would i be? i’m on your side. always.”

“and then—ugh—he just kept going on and on about how this assignment is ‘so simple,’” you huff, taking another bite of your food mid-rant. “like, maybe it’s simple for him, but some of us actually need time to process things!” geto hums softly in agreement, resting his chin in his hand as he watches you with an amused smile. “mmhm, sounds exhausting.” “right?!” you nod, waving your fork around. “and don’t even get me started on how—” he reaches out gently, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “you had a little something,” he says quietly, showing you the crumb he wiped away. your cheeks heat up as you blink at him. “oh… thanks.” he chuckles softly, eyes full of warmth. “keep going, i’m listening.” you pause, blinking at him for a moment before gazing at him softly, eyes filled with quiet affection. then, you lean in to press a quick peck to his lips. geto blinks, surprised, before chuckling softly, his smile growing. “oh! let me tell you about this girl in history,” you suddenly say, eyes lighting up as you jump into another story.

KENTO — always offers to help you study, even when you insist you’ve got it, sliding his notes toward you without a word. shares one side of his earbuds with you during breaks, quietly asking, “this song’s good, right?” and stealing quick glances at you while you’re not paying attention. remembers every small detail—your favorite snacks, the books you want to read, the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re concentrating. walks you home in comfortable silence, the kind that feels easy and familiar, occasionally asking if you’re cold and offering his blazer if you are. not big on pda, but his hand always finds yours when no one’s looking, squeezing gently like a quiet reassurance. when you’re overwhelmed, he gently scolds you for not taking care of yourself—“you need to rest,” he says softly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles—but you know it’s because he worries. helps you solve the hardest problems during study sessions, leaning close to explain them in that calm, steady voice of his.

nanami finds you sitting on the library floor, textbooks scattered around you, and a tired pout on your lips. he sighs softly, crouching down beside you. “overwhelmed?” he asks gently. you nod, rubbing your eyes. “i’ve read the same sentence like ten times.” without a word, he settles next to you, close enough that your shoulders touch. “let’s go through it together,” he offers, opening his notebook. you smile, leaning your head against his arm for a moment. “you’re too good to me.” “i just don’t want you stressing yourself out,” he says, flipping through pages. “besides, someone has to remind you to take breaks.” you roll your eyes playfully. “sounds like you’re calling me a mess.” “not a mess,” he corrects, glancing at you with a soft smile. “just… someone I care about.” your cheeks flush as you nudge him lightly. “smooth.” “practical,” he counters, placing an earbud in your ear and pressing play. “now focus. and don’t fall asleep on me again.” “no promises,” you murmur, smiling as he rests his hand over yours while you both start studying.

SUKUNA — teases you endlessly, calling you ridiculous nicknames just to see you roll your eyes, but the moment someone else tries? his sharp glare is enough to shut them up instantly. only attends school events or the clubs just to spend more time with you, grumbling about how boring it is but never actually leaving your side. acts like he doesn’t care, but always waits for you to finish your school activities just to walk you home, carrying your backpack for you without a word, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. flicks your forehead when you’re being stubborn let’s you wear his jacket and grumbles, “don’t lose it.” casually holds your hand like it’s no big deal, but squeezes it just a little tighter when he thinks you’re not paying attention. tugs you away from your friends during lunch, finding a quiet corner to steal kisses from you,

“where are we going?” you whisper through a giggle as sukuna tugs at your hand, leading you away from your friends and down a quiet hallway. “you’ll see,” he mutters, finally stopping in a secluded corner where no one’s around. you smile up at him, slightly out of breath. “hi.” he grins, leaning against the wall with his usual ease. “hey.” for a moment, neither of you say anything, just smiling at each other like idiots. finally, you whisper, “i missed you.” his smirk softens just a little. “yeah?” “yeah,” you nod, cheeks heating up. he chuckles softly, reaching up to gently touch your cheek with his hand. “you’re so cute,” he mutters before leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet.

[inkandapex]

you're worth it

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris and Y/N share an undeniable connection, but the pressures of F1 and personal hesitation have kept them in the "just friends" zone. Despite their close bond, an unspoken tension hangs between them, each moment charged with what-ifs. With a little nudge from fate, aka, their best friend Max, the two are pushed to give things another shot. Will Lando find the courage to make his move, or will Y/N slip through his fingers, forever just out of reach?

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, light angst, mentions of anxiety.

Lando’s season had been anything but smooth sailing. Sure, the car was leagues ahead of where it had been, delivering near-constant podiums and even his long-awaited first race win. He was sitting second in the championship, closer to the title than he’d ever been. On paper, it was a dream season. But pressure had a funny way of twisting even the sweetest moments into something suffocating.

Lando had always been good at managing the weight of the sport—keeping his mind sharp, his body stronger. But even the best-built machines showed signs of wear. His friends saw it in the way his laughter didn’t reach his eyes. His team noticed the uncharacteristic silence between debriefs. His fans, ever watchful, caught glimpses of something heavier behind the usual smiles.

Now, with a rare break in the chaos, it was clear that he didn’t just need rest. He needed reinforcements.

“The food I ordered half an hour ago? Yeah… they just told me the restaurant’s actually closed now,” Lando muttered

Max blinked, mouth slightly open. “So… they told you there’s no food, and you died on Tarkov? That’s a double fucking shitter, my jeez.” He dragged a hand down his face, visibly pained for his best mate.

Lando let out a defeated laugh. “Hasn’t exactly been the best couple of months for me, really.”

Max exhaled. “Mate, you need a personal chef or something. You’ve got too much on your plate.”

“I actually have nothing on my plate right now, funnily enough.”

“Right, well—eating weeks-old frozen food from your fridge isn’t exactly the fix, is it?” Max sighed, already knowing that’s exactly what Lando was about to do.

"Don't really have much of a choice now don't I mate?"

"Chat's saying you need a girlfriend" Max states rather matter of factly

"You could say that again"

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

A series of persistent knocks, followed by the sharp buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand, dragged Lando from the depths of sleep. He groaned, squinting against the soft morning light that seeped through the curtains, his brain sluggish as he reached for his phone.

A slight frown tugged at his face when he saw the caller—one of his closest friends. A couple of missed calls from both them and Max F. only deepened his confusion. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pulled his hoodie over his head and shuffled toward the door, answering the call as he went.

“Y/N? I just woke up—sorry, could you give me a minute? I’ll call you back, someone’s at the—” He stopped mid-sentence, mid-step.

Because standing on the other side of the door, phone still pressed to their ear, was Y/N. Bags in hand.

"Hey… Max told me you knew I was coming. Him and P just dropped me off. They’re out running a couple of errands," Y/N said, ending the call and slipping her phone into her pocket.

Lando blinked at her, still processing. "No, actually, he didn't. I didn’t even know he was coming here. Did you just get here, or?"

"I landed about two hours ago," she said with a soft laugh. "Been standing here for the past twenty minutes, though."

"Shit, my bad, Y/N. I really didn’t know." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, his brain scrambling to recall any moment where Max might have maybe mentioned this.

"Hey, it’s all good! Sorry for dropping by all of a sudden—I really should’ve reached out beforehand anyway. I just thought you and Max had already sorted it out."

"What? No, Y/N, don’t apologize, silly." Lando finally snapped out of his trance and stepped aside. "Come in—fuck, I mean, the apartment’s a mess, but make yourself at home." He quickly reached for some of her bags, ushering her inside before shutting the door behind them.

"What exactly did Max say?" Lando finally asked, still scrambling to pick up the mess scattered across his living room. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see you, but this is just so... out of the blue."

"Honestly? He was worried," Y/N admitted, grabbing a few stray items to help. "Said you didn’t seem to be doing too well. Thought maybe you could use some company during the break. Listen, Lando, I came here thinking you knew about this. I completely understand if you’d rather be alone right now—I know you’re busy and all—"

"No!" Lando cut in, pausing mid-cleanup. His expression softened, and for the first time since opening the door, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. "I'm… I'm really glad you're here. Max is right. It hasn’t been easy." He exhaled, offering her a small, tight-lipped smile. "Thank you. For being here. I really appreciate it."

Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he spread his arms. "You gonna hug me, or are you just gonna stand there?"

Y/N let out a small laugh, relief washing over her as she finally saw that familiar spark in his eyes. Taking a few steps forward, she let Lando wrap her in a tight hug, his hold warm, grounding. Exactly what he hadn’t realized he needed.

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

The first day of Y/N being there was more housekeeping than anything else. Between cleaning up Lando’s apartment, clearing out the fridge, and fixing up the guest room, the day passed in a blur of chores. By the time Max and P finally arrived, the boys volunteered to head out and pick up some late lunch—partly because there was absolutely nothing to eat at Lando’s place, and partly so Max could finally discuss the sly plan he had cooked up.

A heavy silence filled the car as Lando gripped the wheel, his knuckles tightening against the leather.

"You’re awfully quiet," Max finally said, side-eyeing his best friend from the passenger seat.

"Oh yeah? Wonder why," Lando bit back. "Maybe ‘cause my best friend decided to go behind my back and plan shit without telling me. The fuck were you thinking not mentioning she was coming over to stay?"

"Mate, it was all in good conscience," Max said with an exaggerated sigh. "Plus, what happened between you two… it was months ago—"

"Exactly!" Lando snapped. "I haven’t even been back home to talk about it since. Fuck’s sake, Max… it’s weird enough I haven’t seen her in ages, but springing this on me? That’s insane, even for you."

Max groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why can’t the two of you just admit you like each other like the grown, mature adults you supposedly are and get on with it? It’s honestly exhausting."

"You know why."

"I actually don’t. Please, do explain. I’d love to hear whatever shit excuse you’ve got lined up. Go on then."

Lando let out a slow, tired sigh. "I’m busy, she’s busy. I can’t just drag her along with me and make her leave everything behind so we can be together. And you know how the media is, Max. I don’t want her dealing with all that hate. You’ve seen how bad it gets."

Max scoffed. "And what do you think she just did? She dropped everything to be with you when you needed her, yeah? Her choice. She’s already doing work at Quadrant—her own volition, might I add—on top of her own career. And might I remind you, you were the one who didn’t want to go through with it. From what I heard, she was willing to make it work."

"Yeah?" Lando let out a dry laugh. "From what you heard?"

Max smirked. "Fine. P told me."

"Lando, mate. If it all goes to shit—not that I think it will—I’m sure you’ll sort it out. She cares about you. And I know you feel the same way about her."

Lando sighed, pulling into the parking lot and turning off the engine. He leaned back against the seat for a moment before finally looking over at Max.

"I know you have good intentions," he admitted. "And despite how insane this is, I do appreciate it. I’ll… see where it goes." Then, with a smirk, he nodded toward the door. "Now go pick up the food, ‘cause I’m fucking starving."

Max narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at him as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "This conversation is not over, by the way."

Lando just laughed, shaking his head as Max climbed out of the car.

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

Lando woke up to the unfamiliar yet oddly comforting sounds of pots clanking and the scent of food filling his apartment. It was so foreign that, for a second, he thought he was dreaming. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled out of his room, hair a complete mess, barely awake.

"Morning," Y/N greeted, smiling as she wiped her hands on a tea towel. "There’s breakfast on the counter. I’ve got meals sorted out for the rest of the week—followed your diet, so don’t worry."

Lando blinked at her, then at the kitchen, which now looked like a fully stocked catering service. "It’s 9 in the fucking morning, Y/N. What time did you get up for all this?"

"Like… 6:30?"

"Y/N"

"What? I have jet lag."

Lando squinted at her. "We’re in Monaco. London is one hour behind."

"Okay, fine," she sighed. "I wanted to make sure I had it ready for you. It’s nothing, really—it didn’t take me too long."

"Nothing?" Lando gestured at the sea of neatly packed containers. "My kitchen looks like McLaren hospitality right now."

"It’s not a big deal, Lan, really, I—"

Lando didn’t let her finish. He reached out, gently grabbing her hand and stopping her from cleaning. "Could you—please slow down for a sec?" His voice was softer now, his brows furrowing as he tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. "Y/N, you don’t have to do all this. You don’t have to take care of me."

Lando sighed deeply, his arms instinctively pulling Y/N into a tight hug. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his heart heavy. "I don't deserve you."

Y/N’s arms wrapped around him, her voice soft as she spoke, her thumbs tracing gentle circles on his back. "You have me, either way"

Lando pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression clouded. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. "Look, Y/N... we can't. I can't do this right now. What I said about us—about this, months ago... that's still how I feel. I like you... a lot, trust me, I do. But this is too much, and I can't possibly ask you to—"

He couldn’t keep eye contact, his gaze drifting as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

Y/N took a step back but stayed close, her eyes searching his. She offered a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I get it, Lan. I’m here for you. As a friend." She took a deep breath. "What I said, about me wanting to be here... to do this with you... I meant that too. I still feel that way. I told you I can wait. You’re worth it."

"You two done being sappy, or should I give you a couple more minutes?" Max's voice echoed through the apartment, making both Lando and Y/N jump and scramble to step away from each other in a panic.

"You little shit, how long have you been stood there listening? You fucking weirdo." In a swift motion, Lando grabbed the nearest object, a spatula, and tossed it across the room. It flew past Max’s head, narrowly missing him as he stood frozen in the middle of the living room.

"So sorry, guys. I told him not to come in without knocking." P finally steps into the apartment, giving Max a pinch on his side. Max let out an exaggerated yelp, squirming away from her with a pained expression.

"Ow! Everyone’s so violent this morning," Max groaned, rubbing his side as P smirked, clearly satisfied with herself.

"You're ridiculous. Just gonna run to the bathroom real quick then we can have breakfast and plan the rest of our day" Lando shook his head with a groan, but a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaves the room

Max took the chance to walk over to Y/N, who was quietly setting the table for breakfast. "You good?" he asked, his voice low, careful not to let Lando hear.

Y/N glanced up at him with a soft, knowing smile. "Take a wild guess, Max. Bet you heard enough to figure out how I'm doing right now." She let out a quiet laugh, but it was tinged with something he couldn’t quite place, defeat, maybe?

Max took a breath, his tone shifting to something gentler, more understanding. "Look, he... you know how he is. As much as I want this for the two of you, you don’t have to wait for him. He can’t just expect you to be there until he’s finally ready. No one’s gonna hold it against you." His voice dropped.

Y/N shook her head slightly, her smile softening. "You’re really sweet, Max, but I’m okay. I promise." She was careful, though, making sure her words felt sincere.

Max gave her a small, thoughtful nod. "Just trying to look out for the two of you is all."

"I know," Y/N replied. She didn’t need Max’s concern to know what was best for her, but it was comforting, knowing that someone understood.

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

Several races had passed since Y/N was last at Lando's apartment. Despite the distance, they’d kept in close contact—calls, texts, little check-ins whenever they could steal a moment. Lando was clearly doing better, each conversation revealing just how much he’d grown over the past few weeks.

Now, it was the Singapore Grand Prix weekend, and Y/N had finally managed to take some time off work. She’d been counting down the days until she could see Lando again, her excitement mingled with the kind of nervous energy that had been building up ever since she booked her flight. The anticipation was almost unbearable, especially when she considered how much her feelings for him had grown since their last conversation.

Despite the distance, despite all the unsaid things, she found herself thinking about him more and more, how his laugh had sounded over the phone, how his presence felt like a comfort when they’d been together. But now, standing outside of Mclaren's hospitality, waiting for Lando to step out his driver room after finishing free practice, everything felt good.

"Y/N! Hey, haven’t seen you around in a while. How have you been?" Zach, a close friend of Oscar Piastri, and someone Y/N had become friends with, walked over with a smile.

"Zach, it’s good to see you. I’m great, just been busy with work is all. The car seems good, Lando and Oscar are driving really well too" Y/N replied with a warm smile, happy to see a familiar face in the paddock.

"Things are looking great. We’re doing really well in the constructors, too. You waiting for Lando?" Zach asked, leaning against the railing casually.

"Mhmm, I’m catching a ride with him back to the hotel. He texted me, he’d be out in a bit." Y/N explained, glancing down at her phone to check for any updates from Lando.

"Right... listen. Are you free any time this weekend? Maybe even after the race? I was thinking—"

"Ready to go?" Lando's voice cut in, and he walked over to the pair, bag slung over his shoulder and phone in hand. "Oh, hey man, sorry, we gotta go. Got some friends waiting for us."

Zach smiled, stepping back. "Oh, don’t let me hold you back. I’ll see you around, Y/N. You still got my number, right?"

"Yep, I’ll catch up with you next time," Y/N said, giving Zach a friendly nod.

"Perfect. Hope you enjoy the weekend. It’s great having you back in the paddock," Zach said with a grin, stepping in to give Y/N a quick hug before patting Lando’s arm as he walked past. "Great stuff today, man. See you around."

Lando raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with slight bitterness as they walked toward the parking lot. "Didn’t know you two were close like that."

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, hello to you too, Lando. So great to see you after months, feels fantastic to finally be here with you."

Lando chuckled, though it was clear there was a hint of jealousy in his voice, "I didn’t mean it like that, just... you two seemed pretty chummy." He smirked at her, trying to play it off.

Y/N leaned back in the passenger seat, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Don't know, I actually think he's pretty cute."

Lando almost slammed the door shut in frustration, his face twisting into a scoff. "Cute? Right."

"What? You jealous?" Y/N teased, barely able to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm not," Lando grumbled, eyes focused on the road but his jaw clenched slightly.

"You so are. Your ears are red."

"I'm not" he repeated, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

"So you don't mind if I go out for dinner with him after the race then?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone light but with a little edge, just to push his buttons. It was playful, but they both knew the boundaries—they weren’t together, not officially.

"No."

"No, you don't mind?" Y/N repeated, pressing him further.

"No, you can't" Lando snapped back, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

"Why?" she asked innocently, though a knowing smile played at her lips.

"Cause then you'll miss my victory party," Lando replied with a sly smirk, glancing over at her briefly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "Oh wow, cocky now, are we?" She let out a laugh, though deep down, she couldn't ignore how his confidence was somehow making him all the more attractive.

"Wow" Lando gasped dramatically, glancing over at her with exaggerated disbelief. "You don't think I'll win this weekend? You're breaking my heart, darling."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Don't get too cocky, Norris. The race isn't over until it's over."

"True," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I like to think I’ve got this in the bag. You better be there to celebrate my win, Y/N."

She met his gaze, her playful teasing giving way to something softer, something more real. "We'll see," she replied, a small but genuine smile on her face. "But if you win, I'll begin to think I'm your lucky charm."

Lando nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "You just might be."

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

"We’ve got this in the bag, Lando. Stick to Plan A, do what you do best, and we’ll take care of the rest. Focus on the drive, and if anything shifts, we’ll adjust. We’re counting on maximum points from you two tonight." Will, Lando's race engineer, pauses, his eyes locking with Lando's, waiting for confirmation after his brief but crucial words.

"Lando."

"Yeah yeah. Maximum points, drive fast, got it." Lando mutters, his response flat, his attention half there. As important as this race is, his mind keeps drifting back to Y/N. She’s in the garage, talking with Zach. His Y/N. The thought pulls at him in a way he can’t shake.

Will’s voice cuts through the haze. "I need 100% of your focus, Lando. The race starts in 30." He hands him his earplugs, but Lando’s gaze is distant.

"Yep, heard." Lando mutters again, his tone quieter, his mind still elsewhere as he turns to leave, the weight of his thoughts lingering like an anchor.

Y/N and Zach were in the middle of an easy, lighthearted conversation. Lando, across the garage, could only watch, his gaze sharpening as he noticed how comfortable Y/N and Zach looked together. The laughter between them, the way they stood too close, it ate at him.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Lando’s voice cut through the air, direct and intense, as he strode toward them.

Y/N looked up at him, surprised but giving him a warm smile. "Yeah, what’s up? You nervous?" She didn’t get up from her seat, still in that calm, relaxed mood.

"Alone" Lando said, his tone sharper now, as the urgency in his words broke through.

"Oh—yeah, of course." She rose to follow him, a furrow crossing her brow, concerned by the intensity in his eyes. They walked towards a quieter corner of the garage, far enough from prying eyes and cameras.

As soon as they were alone, she looked at him. "Is everything okay? Do you need me to call Max or—"

Lando didn’t give her a chance to finish. "I don’t like this. You and him, talking... being all flirty. I don’t like it." The words spilled out of him faster than he could stop them, relief and frustration flooding his chest. It was all coming out at once.

Y/N blinked, trying to keep her voice steady. "I’m not flirting, Lando. He’s just a friend."

Lando’s frustration reached its peak. "I’m just a friend, Y/N! Fuck’s sake... I can’t get in the car like this, not with this on my mind. Not like this." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

She stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Hey, Lan. What’s going on? You wanted this—actually, no, you didn’t want anything right now, did you? You said so yourself. I’m not doing this to make you jealous or get back at you, He's just a friend. That’s it."

But Lando shook his head, his voice shaking with vulnerability. "I don’t know what I want, okay! But seeing you... with him? I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I can’t lose you."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, though it held a touch of sadness. She gently took his hands in hers, stopping him from messing up his hair further. "You’re not gonna lose me, you silly boy."

Lando looked at her, searching her eyes for some sign that she understood, that she felt the same pull. "One kiss. Give me one kiss. Let’s pretend nothing else matters. Just right now, right here, with you. One kiss before I go." His voice was a whisper, full of longing and desperation.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. She cupped his face, her thumb brushing across his jawline as she spoke quietly, almost to herself. "Nothing else matters... I don’t have to pretend. You’re all I want, Lando. Why can’t you see that?"

Lando exhales quietly, his fingers grazing her cheek as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. They stand close, the world around them fading into the background, neither in a rush to break the moment. Their eyes meet, lingering, only flickering downward for the briefest second before finding each other again.

"You take corners faster than this—are you gonna kiss me, or should I send in a request for DRS?" Y/N teases, tilting her head with a smirk.

Lando leans in, closing the small space between them, his lips pressing firmly against hers. It’s not their first kiss, there had been fleeting moments before, small pecks here and there, brief touches exchanged in passing, but this is different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. Their movements are unhurried, deliberate. It’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken, deep and certain, carrying the weight of something that had been waiting to happen.

She’s the first to pull away, though neither of them really want to. But reality tugs at Lando, he has somewhere to be.

Before stepping back, he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, another lighter one at the corner of her mouth. His lips brush her cheek, then her forehead, a quiet farewell without words. When he finally pulls away, he catches the flush creeping up her neck and smirks.

"I'm quick when it matters," he murmurs. "But some things are worth taking my time on."

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

It was the kind of weekend that felt almost predestined, Lando wins in Singapore, by a massive 20-second gap to Verstappen in P2. But even with the trophy in his hands and the roar of the crowd in his ears, his eyes searched for only one thing.

And there she was.

Among the sea of faces, hers stood out effortlessly, beaming with pride, hands clapping in celebration. The victory was unforgettable, but this moment, seeing her there, cheering for him, was the one he’d carry with him forever.

Lando could hardly sit still. He’d been rocking on the balls of his feet, barely paying attention to the post-race interviews with Oscar, his mind already somewhere else. The second the cameras cut off, he was up, grabbing his things in record time, making Oscar chuckle at his urgency.

"Word in my garage is you’ve got yourself a little lucky charm now," Oscar smirked, watching as Lando fumbled with his phone, already dialing Y/N.

"Word spreads fast, huh?"

"Finally made a move?"

"Yeah, took me long enough," Lando laughed, giving his teammate a quick pat on the back as he pressed his phone to his ear.

The call barely rang before her teasing voice filled his speaker. "Why hello there, champ. Miss me already?"

A grin stretched across Lando’s face, warmth creeping up his chest. "Always, baby. Where are you? Need my post-race kiss, like, now."

"On your left."

Lando spun around, immediately spotting her seated outside the motorhome with Max and P. He didn’t even bother ending the call properly, just stuffed his phone in his pocket and made a beeline for her.

"There he is! Mr. 20-second lead. Mate, you were proper flying—"

Max didn’t even get to finish before Lando stopped behind Y/N’s chair, tilting her chin up and leaning down to kiss her. This one deeper, lingering, completely unbothered by the fact that they had company.

"Shit—when did this happen?" Max gaped, his arm tightening around P as if he needed something to ground him.

"Just before the race. Can’t believe you’re only finding out now, thought the whole paddock knew by now," Lando chuckled, hands rubbing Y/N’s shoulders as she sat there, visibly flustered, still adjusting to the attention.

"Well, damn. About time."

Y/N glanced up at Lando, still a little dazed, but the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her forget about everything else. He pressed one last kiss to the top of her head before leaning down, voice just for her.

“You’re my good luck charm.”

She laughed softly, squeezing his hand. “Guess that means I have to stick around then, huh?”

Lando grinned, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Oh, baby, you’re not going anywhere.”

[alloftheimaginesblog]

something sugary {alex karev}

Plot: Reader has diabetes and Alex always keeps a stash of sugary food and drink for them in his locker.

requested by anon

Character: Alex Karev x Female Reader

Alex nudged your side for the third time in the span of twenty seconds. You shot him a dirty look, "Stop," you hissed under your breath.

Bailey pulled a look of 'shut your mouth right now or I'll kill you' at the two of you but still, ten seconds later, Alex nudged your side, "Are you feeling alright?" He asked quietly, "You're looking a little clammy..."

You looked at him, feeling a rather large surge of anger bubble inside you, "Alex, you're a piece of-" and then you realised that he was right. You'd been feeling rather warm for the last five or so minutes and when you stopped to listen to your body, you felt sluggish and a little shaky. You were having a hypo. "-shit!" You cursed as you began to feel the familiar tendrils of a hypo taking over your body. It had a way of sneaking up on you and then making you go down fast. You had to check your bloods and get something sugary into your body and fast.

Bailey, who'd been in the middle of telling you about a patient, raised her eyebrows, "Excuse me?"

"Sorry, Doctor Bailey, I need to go check my levels, think I might be-"

She flapped a hand at you, "Alright, go, go!"

You rushed out of the room quickly, trying to get to your locker before the hypo got worse. You always kept your kit on you but the snacks were always stored in your locker (or the vending machine since you usually forgot to get more) - maybe not the most ideal but that's the way it had to be. You'd been so preoccupied with getting out that you hadn't realised someone else left behind you.

By the time you got to the locker room, you felt rather worse for wear. A dull headache was spreading across your forehead that was slick with sweat and your body felt like one more step forwards would cause it to collapse. Despite that, you pushed through and sat on the bench. You needed to know your levels, as you did this, you barely processed the fact that Alex Karev had now joined you in the locker room and was rifling through his locker for something.

2.2mmol/L flashed on screen.

"Shit," you whispered before standing and going to your own locker but before you could, Alex caught your wrist and twirled you round. Annoyed, you snapped, "Alex, I don't have time for-"

He pushed something into your hands, "Eat." You frowned at him and then looked down at what he'd put in your hands... Candy?

"What is this?"

"Shut up and eat," he rolled his eyes, "I told you that you looked funny, you're having a hypo. Something sugary is what you need. Eat."

You didn't question him again and instead sat down on the bench and began to eat a few of the sour candies he'd given you. He sat next to you in silence.

As you ate, you could feel the headache ease off a bit and you didn't feel as warm, "How did you know?"

"I'm a Doctor, genius."

You rolled your eyes, "Seriously, Alex, how did you know?"

He shrugged, "We've been doing this together for like a year. I know when you're having a hypo or you're about to. It's why I've stashed so much sugary stuff in my locker for you."

It took you a moment to process what he'd just said. He'd been observing you enough to know when you were in a hypo and he kept snacks in his locker for you? You and Alex were friends, barely. He was an asshole half the time but sometimes, in rare moments, you connected. You liked to drink with him, he had the wildest stories and could always make you laugh.

"Alex..."

He gave you a small smile, "Don't mention it but maybe you should lay off calling me a piece of shit and just let me help you instead, yeah?"

"... Why do you keep snacks in your locker for me?"

"Give me your locker key." He held out his hand and you gave him your keys. He stood and moved to your locker before swinging it open. Inside, you had a few changes of clothes, some skin care, shampoo, tampons but no snacks, "Like I said, we've been working together for a year. I know that even though you're one of the best Doctors I know, you're hopeless at keeping on top of buying yourself snacks to keep in work. Too many times I've seen you send O'Malley to the vending machines." He shrugged, "I thought I'd keep a stash for easiness."

You were touched. You were insanely appreciative of Alex Karev in this moment, your heart surged and felt rather full and warm inside, "Alex, I don't know what to say."

He shook his head, "It's alright," he sat beside you again, "here, let me check your levels." He took your hand and you let him. You were a little too shocked to stop him if you wanted to but you'd never felt this seen before, least of all by Alex Karev. You watched him in awe as he expertly pricked your finger and took your levels, "There," he grinned, "Perfect."

He packed your kit away and handed it back to you and dug around in his scrub pocket to pull out another key, "It's my spare locker key." He looped it onto your keychain and you noticed it had AK in Sharpie on either side, "If you ever need sugary stuff, help yourself... it's all for you anyway."

"Thank you, Alex," you said softly. Your cheeks felt hot again but not because of a hypo but more so because you didn't know what to do now. Having him be here, having him care for you like this... it sent your heart and stomach into a frenzy and you weren't sure how to react now.

He rolled his eyes as he laughed, "What?" He asked, "I give you candy and that's got you all blushing and shy? What would you be like if I took you on a real date, mm?" He was teasing but there was a genuine question under the humour. A date - a real date with him. He was testing the waters, wanting to gauge your reaction to him saying that.

You laughed, not freaked out or disgusted at all by his suggestion, "You need to work harder to get a date with me, Karev," you stood up and the two of you began to walk back to the elevators.

"Yeah? Name your price, I'll do it."

"Coffee, every morning for the next two weeks. Not crappy hospital coffee-"

"Nah, you want the real stuff from that coffee shop across the road. I've seen you in there before your shift starts." You nodded in agreement. Alex smiled, "Easy, done."

You saw a completely different side to Alex Karev that afternoon and it didn't stop there. Once you'd seen it once, you'd seen his softer side one hundred times. You began to see him just like he had seen you. And yes, for the next two weeks, he got you coffee and a muffin every morning (and then every morning afterwards also).

[tbaluver]

So have an odd request for the L&DS men but bear with me. I'm kind of in a grieving process rn bc I just suddenly lost someone I love. MC also grieves in the main story so I request some comfort drabbles about the L&DS men consoling you while grieving if that's ok.

Consoling You While You Grieve- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: comfort a/n: hi lovely, i'm so sorry for your loss. i know i may not have the perfect words right now, but im here for you. if you ever need to talk, vent, or just have someone to listen, don't hesitate to reach out. take all the time you need, and remember that you don't have to go through this alone. sending you all the strength and love during this difficult time ♡ ̆̈ and that also applies to anyone that is also going through a tough time right now! any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Once you told Xavier, he would hold you tightly. The type of hug that is comforting and the one that feels like he’s never going to let you go and that everything is going to be okay. He’s a good listener, never interrupting you, and offering his best advice as much as he could. If you needed some fresh air, he’d take you for a walk, holding your hand.

All Xavier knew is that he needed to be there for you no matter what and he didn't leave your side for a second. He’ll show up unannounced with favorite snacks, food, or distractions. He’ll bring in some new plushies he got from the claw machine to bring some comfort. He’ll bring some board games or new movies you both can do to distract you and he’ll wrap you both in a blanket.

All Xavier knew is that he needed to be there for you, never leaving your side. He’d show up unannounced with your favorite snacks, comforting food, or anything to distract you. He’d bring new plushies from the claw machine for extra comfort, board games, or new movies to keep you occupied. And he’d make sure you were both wrapped up in a cozy blanket.

He lets you cry for as long as you need, whether it took hours or more. He didn’t mind at all. You could stay in his arms or on his lap while you let it all out. He wanted to be someone you could lean on during this tough time.

He lets you cry for as long as you needed even if it were hours, he did not care. He’ll let you stay in his arms or his lap while you let it all out. He’ll be and want to be someone you can lean on during this tough time.

Zayne:

He would pull you into a comforting hug the moment you tell him what happened, placing his chin on your head as he rubs comforting circles on your back. He lets you cry it out as you sob into his torso.

He can tell you weren’t okay no matter how many times you told him. He can read you a little too well from the expression on your face.

He’ll do anything and everything he can to make sure you’re okay. He’ll come to your place unannounced almost every day, bringing your favorite takeout and bakery treats to make sure you’re eating well. He’ll stay and eat with you and sometimes he’ll even feed it to you to make sure you are full.

He'll let you cry it out all you want and he'll brush off any stray tears that came running down randomly. He'll make sure you drink enough water so you stay hydrated during this time.

He’ll make sure you’re getting some rest even though it might be difficult too during this time. When you are in deep sleep, he’ll slip out of bed to wash your dishes or tidy up any parts of the house to help you around a bit. He'll slip back into bed with you, enveloping you in a embrace so you don't wake up alone.

He is a good listener and he’ll do his best to comfort you whether through his actions or through his words. He’ll understand that you would want some space and he’ll respect that but he will check up on you once in a while to make sure you’re okay.

Rafayel:

He knows what loss is like and he knows it too well and that's something he would never wanted you to encounter.

He'll hold you the way he's always wanted to be held when no one was there for him. He cradled you in his arms, your head nested in the crook of his neck as you sobbed quietly.

He'll understand and accept any reaction that you had whether it was crying or feeling like you were numb or any anger. He doesn't take any of them personally but rather he was understanding. He'll try his best to distract you with things by taking you anywhere that would cheer you up.

He'll take you to the beach that might offer a temporary escape from your grief or doing some light activities with him.

He'll do whatever it takes to cheer you up even if suggest going to a cat cafe. He'll hide away his pout and scared expression so you weren't worried about him.

If you were comfortable with it, he'll help you find a way to honor or remember the person you've lost. He'll try his best to create a portrait or he'll help you make a collage that shares their stories or memories you had with that person.

Sylus:

He is immediately beside you, uttering sweet words that were dripping like honey as you cry into his chest. He brushes away your tears and help you calm down with his soothing voice, offering you advice and reminders. He would have no complaints that of the stains of tears on his clothes.

He'll always be right by your side, whether that means holding you in his arms or keeping your hands interlocked.

He encourages you often to lean literally and figuratively lean on him. He'll be your rock through this entire your process. He'd let you talk about it no matter how many times you have repeated it to him. He'll listen and listen and he'll talk about it with you.

He doesn't let you out of his sight. Like Mephisto is always watching you through your window and will notify Sylus if you weren't taking care of yourself properly. If he was away on business, he'll arrange for food to be delivered to you. When he was available, he'll call you to make sure you were doing alright.

If you have trouble sleeping, he'll hold you close and softly hum until you relax against him and drift off. Once you wake up, he'll still be beside you, until you're ready to get up. He'll join you in your self-care routine, even if it meant wearing those silly headbands, to help you maintain it and ensure you don't neglect your health.

[undiagnosedcruelty]

Felix’s Cookies Have a Side Effect

Pairing: roommate!skz x GenderNeutral!reader

Genre: Crackfic

summary: Felix’s cookies were supposed to bring happiness—not turn you into a walking, talking aegyo machine.

────────────────────────────────────────

Content Warning: light cursing, crack humor, cursed levels of aegyo, food-based magic gone wrong, secondhand embarrassment, and the emotional trauma of eating unseasoned chicken.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I WAS PHYSICALLY HURTING WHILE WRITING THE AEGYO PARTS, PLS DONT ATTACK ME FOR THE CRINGE💔💔💔

────────────────────────────────────────

EVERYTHING WRITTEN IS PURELY FICTION───NOTHING IS DIRECTLY RELATED TO REAL LIFE EVENTS.

You should have known better. You really should have.

The golden rule of living with eight chaotic men was simple: never consume anything without questioning its origins first. But when Felix presented you with a freshly baked cookie—eyes sparkling with excitement, dimples popping as he all but shoved the plate into your hands—you didn’t even hesitate.

Big mistake.

At first, everything seemed fine. The cookie was warm, gooey, and filled with just the right amount of chocolate chips. The moment it melted on your tongue, you understood why Felix had that smug, cat-who-caught-the-canary expression. The guy knew his baking could end wars.

But then.

It started as a tingle in your chest—subtle, almost pleasant. Then, a strange, fizzy bubbling sensation crawled up your throat, like soda pop had replaced your blood. Before you could even process the weirdness—

"Aegyo mode activated."

"Oppa~~~!" you whined, gripping Han’s hoodie sleeve with both hands, voice unnaturally high-pitched.

The entire room went silent.

Eight pairs of eyes locked onto you. Blinking. Processing.

Han, mid-bite into his own cookie, choked so violently he nearly fell off the couch. Changbin clutched his chest like he had been physically struck, eyes wide with sheer betrayal. Minho? Minho had already turned on his heel and was walking out of the room without a word.

"I—" you started, panic rising in your throat. But once again, the words that escaped your lips were not yours.

"Jisungieeee~~~," you cooed, latching onto his arm like a needy toddler. "I missed you sooooo much today! Did you miss me too~?"

A deep, horrified gasp left your mouth as your hands shot up to cover it.

The damage, however, was already done.

Han collapsed. Not in a dramatic way—no, literally, his knees buckled, and he hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, wheezing so hard he could barely breathe.

"NO—NO WAY," he gasped between bouts of laughter, clutching his stomach. "WHAT IS THIS? WHY IS THIS SO CURSED?"

Seungmin, who had been quietly scrolling through his phone a moment ago, tilted his head and observed you like some kind of foreign lab experiment. "...Are you feeling okay? Did Felix poison you?"

"I DIDN'T!" Felix wailed, his freckles scrunching up in distress. He bounced on his feet, looking wildly between you and Chan. "It was supposed to make them happy! I put extra sugar and—"

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Chan groaned, already dragging a hand down his face, his stress levels visibly skyrocketing. "Felix, what the hell did you put in them?"

Felix pouted, shuffling guiltily. "...Uhhh. Maybe a little enchanted vanilla extract?"

Chan narrowed his eyes, looking like he was seconds away from deleting existence itself. " Where exactly did you get enchanted vanilla extract!?"

Felix let out a nervous chuckle, avoiding eye contact. "Uh… I found this one magic shop online? The sketchy one next to the convenience store?"

Chan’s face blanked. "Felix. Please tell me you didn’t buy cooking ingredients from a store that also sells cursed objects and possibly hexed jewelry."

Felix winced. "... It was on sale?"

The room exploded into chaos.

”I THOUGHT IT WAS A SCAM OKAY AND I WANTED TO TRY IT!” Felix said on his defense, his hands shooting up in panic.

Hyunjin dropped to his knees, laughing so hard he had to clutch the couch for support. Jeongin had his phone out, already recording like a TMZ reporter documenting a celebrity scandal.

Minho, who had initially left, walked back in just to shake his head at you in pure, silent disappointment—before promptly turning around and leaving again.

Meanwhile, you were suffering.

Your body felt possessed. Every movement unnatural, exaggerated—your arms automatically folding into uwu poses like you had been forcibly programmed into a kawaii anime character. Every attempt to speak came out in a ridiculous, saccharine tone, as if you had become a walking, talking aegyo machine.

You clenched your fists, desperate to fight it. "Hyunjin, you—" Hyunjin raised a brow, intrigued.

"...You're sooooooo handsome and talented~~!"

A beat of silence.

"NOOOO!" you shrieked, slamming both hands over your mouth in horror.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened. His lips trembled. He backed away like you had just summoned an ancient evil. "I—I don't like this. Take it back."

Seungmin was crying with laughter, clutching Jeongin’s shoulder for support. "I've never seen something so cursed in my life."

"Felix," Chan exhaled, pressing his fingers into his temples like he was getting a migraine. "How long does this last?"

Felix chuckled nervously. "Ehhhh… maybe a few hours?"

"A FEW HOURS?!" You collapsed onto the couch, face buried in a throw pillow, your tiny, adorably furious hands gripping it for dear life.

Jeongin wiped a tear from his eye, still wheezing. "Wait—wait—so they're basically stuck in perma-aegyo mode?"

You lifted your head to glare at him. Or tried to. Unfortunately, your body decided to puff your cheeks out like an angry hamster instead.

Jisung lost it all over again, doubling over with laughter.

"I’m gonna die," Changbin choked, wiping at his eyes. "This is the best day of my life."

Felix, now feeling at least a little guilty, reached over to pat your head. "At least you're super cute?"

Your soul screamed inside your body.

Chan sighed so deeply it sounded like he was giving up on life. "Alright, Felix, you and I are figuring out how to reverse this."

Felix nodded furiously. "Right!" Meanwhile, the rest of the members? They were thriving.

Seungmin had already started editing the footage Jeongin took, adding dramatic background music. Hyunjin sat in a corner, staring blankly at the ceiling like he had just witnessed a full-blown exorcism.

Jisung? He had opened up a notes app and was typing every cursed phrase you had said for future blackmail.

From the other room, Minho’s voice rang out: "If this isn't fixed by tomorrow, I’m moving out."

Your life was ruined. And all because you trusted Felix’s cookies.

────────────────────────────────────────

Chan was a man of solutions—not problems. So, after gathering all the members into the kitchen, he stood at the center with arms crossed, looking like an exhausted single father trying to discipline eight feral children. His jaw was tense, his brows knit together, and his fingers tapped impatiently against his bicep as he exhaled through his nose. "Okay. We need to fix this. Felix, what do we know about enchanted vanilla extract?"

Felix, who had been nervously shifting from foot to foot, rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh… it's supposed to enhance positive emotions? Like, amplify happiness. But I think maybe… I added too much?"

"No shit," Minho deadpanned, cradling a mug of black coffee like it was the only thing keeping him from spontaneous combustion. He took a long, slow sip, his eyes half-lidded with pure resignation. "This entire situation is proof that I need new roommates."

Changbin, ever the problem solver, raised a hand. "So, what if we make them eat something really bitter? Would that cancel it out?"

Jisung perked up, eyes lighting with mischief. "Oh! Like how people shock themselves out of hiccups! Maybe we just need to surprise them."

Hyunjin gasped dramatically, placing a delicate hand over his chest like an aristocrat in distress. "We should SCARE them! Like… like drop a fake spider on them or—"

"Absolutely not." Chan shot him down immediately, the dad-mode in full force.

"Wait, wait," Seungmin interrupted, eyes gleaming with something sinister. "I saw this thing online where if you eat raw garlic, it resets your taste buds. What if we force them to eat something super strong?"

Chan turned to Felix with an arched brow. "How do we feel about this?"

Felix winced, looking like a puppy that had just been scolded for chewing a shoe. "I mean… it could work…? But if the magic is emotion-based, we might need something even stronger than just bitter food…"

"Like pain," Minho said casually, not even looking up from his coffee.

Silence. Everyone slowly turned to look at Minho. He blinked. "What?"

"hyung," Jeongin whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "You scare me."

Before you could protest, Seungmin struck like a viper, shoving a whole spoonful of wasabi into your mouth without warning.

Your soul left your body.

The moment the fiery paste hit your tongue, your entire existence was reduced to a single, unrelenting sensation: PAIN. Tears instantly welled up in your eyes as a molten inferno exploded across your taste buds, searing every last ounce of joy from your being. Your back arched like you had been struck by lightning, fingers twitching violently.

The room went still. Everyone leaned in, watching with bated breath.

And then—

"Omooo, it's so spicy~~~!" you wailed, hands flapping dramatically like a wind-up toy. "My tongue is burniiiiiing~~! Oppa, save me~~~!"

Jisung collapsed.

Hyunjin face-planted onto the floor, muffling his screams of laughter into the hardwood.

Chan just dragged a hand down his face, looking like he aged ten years in ten seconds.

"Felix," he sighed, voice drained of all life, "get back in the kitchen. We need a Plan B."

After the failed wasabi experiment, Chan had officially had enough. He stood at the counter, gripping its edge like it was the only thing tethering him to sanity. His shoulders rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths, the way one might prepare before dealing with absolute nonsense—which, unfortunately, was his life now.

"Okay," Chan started, voice firm, arms crossed. "Clearly, pain isn’t working."

"You don’t say," you grumbled. Or at least, you tried to. Instead, what came out was: "Aiyaaaa, I’m so tiiiiiiired~~~ Someone carry meee~~!"

Jisung had to physically hold himself up against the counter, face buried in his arms to muffle the wheezing sounds escaping him. Hyunjin, still recovering from the previous attack on his sanity, simply turned to face the wall, as if that would somehow shield him from the horror.

Seungmin, still recording, zoomed in on Chan’s soul leaving his body.

"Felix." Chan turned to him, voice dangerously calm. "We need a new plan. Now."

Felix winced. "Okay, okay! So if the enchanted vanilla is boosting emotions, we need to counteract it with something that suppresses them!"

Jeongin raised a brow. "Like what? Depression?"

Felix perked up. "Actually, yes!"

The room went silent. Minho blinked. "You want us to make them depressed?"

"Not like that!" Felix waved his hands. "Just… we need to feed them something that dampens emotions, kind of like a sedative."

Seungmin hummed, tapping his chin. "So… bland food?"

Felix nodded. "Exactly! If we give them something so dull that it cancels out the hyper emotions, maybe it’ll balance things out!"

Jisung perked up. "I have an idea."

Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen was filled with the scent of… absolutely nothing.

Felix, Chan, and Seungmin had prepared a dish so mind-numbingly boring that just looking at it made everyone feel empty inside.

Boiled chicken.

Plain white rice.

Unsalted, unseasoned, completely dry steamed broccoli.

Not a single grain of salt in sight.

Han looked at the plate in pure horror. "This is evil."

Changbin poked at the chicken with his fork. "It’s so… pale. It looks like it’s never known happiness."

Hyunjin leaned down and sniffed it. "I smell nothing. This is worse than death."

Meanwhile, you sat at the table, arms crossed, pouting aggressively. "Hmph! Why do I have to eat this yucky foooood~~? I want something yummy~~!" Jisung physically had to leave the room.

"Eat." Chan shoved a spoon into your hands.

You glared at him. Tried to. Your body betrayed you again, making your eyes go big and watery. "Oppaaaa, feed me~~!"

Chan slammed his hands on the table. "EAT THE DAMN CHICKEN."

With great difficulty, you took a bite. The moment the flavorless abyss of boiled chicken touched your tongue, something shifted. Your fingers twitched. Your uwu posture straightened. The bubbling sensation in your chest fizzled out.

The room held its breath.

You swallowed. Slowly, cautiously, you opened your mouth and said, "That was disgusting."

Silence.

Then—

"IT WORKED!" Felix cheered, throwing his arms in the air.

Hyunjin collapsed onto the floor, hands covering his face. "Oh my god, it’s over."

Jisung was still laughing, but now in relief. "I was gonna have nightmares about that."

Chan exhaled the deepest sigh of his life. "Felix, never again."

Felix chuckled sheepishly. "No more enchanted ingredients. Got it."

Minho clapped a hand on your shoulder. "Let this be a lesson. Never trust Felix’s cookies."

You shuddered. "Never again."

Moral of the story: never accept food without questioning its existence.

[tryingtofindava]

── 𝐁𝐲𝐞-𝐁𝐲𝐞, 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐞.

: ̗̀➛Back to Source

{[PROXIES X FEM! READER]}

The morning felt wrong before I even set foot inside Pop’s.

Maybe it was the way the sky hung heavy with low, bruised clouds. Maybe it was the thin mist curling along the cracked sidewalks, ghostly and stubborn even under the creeping sun. Or maybe it was the absence I noticed the second I pushed through the diner’s door.

The counter was empty.

No Jackson.

For the first time in months, he wasn’t there, perched on his usual stool like a greasy vulture waiting to pick at me with his endless smirks and too-long stares. No “Good morning, gorgeous,” dripping from his teeth like poison. No lingering presence that made my skin crawl.

I blinked, half expecting him to pop out from behind the counter just to ruin my temporary peace.

But no, he was gone.

Weird.

I tightened the apron around my waist and clocked in, the old punch machine giving its usual angry clunk. As I turned, I spotted Kelly wiping down the soda machine. Her emerald orbs caught my eye and gave a little smirk, like she already knew what I was thinking.

“Wondering where your biggest fan is?” she teased, tossing her towel over her shoulder.

I grimaced, shifting awkwardly on the spot. “Fan’s a strong word.”

She laughed, but there was an edge to it, something tight and nervous that immediately put me on alert.

“You didn’t hear?” she asked, lowering her voice. “You seriously didn’t?”

“Hear what?”

Before she could answer, Tommy, one of our line cooks, a kid barely out of high school who reeked of fryer oil and cheap cologne, practically sprinted around the counter, phone in hand.

“Dude, you gotta see this,” he said, breathless with the kind of excitement people get when something horrible happens to someone else, like he’d been waiting to share with someone.

He jabbed the phone toward me.

I stared.

There, frozen on the screen, was the news:

Decapitated Head Identified as Jackson Reynolds Found Early This Morning.

Below it, a grim faced anchor spoke solemnly over a blurry video of a pond surrounded by flashing cop lights and yellow tape. Text crawled across the bottom: Local man’s severed head discovered by passerby walking dog.

The words hit me like a slow, cold slap.

Decapitated.

Dead.

Jackson Reynolds.

Gone.

I blinked at the screen, processing the headline, the horror of it, and then, underneath all the shock, came something else.

Relief.

A sick, guilty relief that unfurled inside me like warm water.

He was gone.

He couldn’t lurk by the counter anymore.

He couldn’t follow me with his ratty smiles, couldn’t wait by the dumpsters at closing time.

He was just…gone.

Tommy whistled lowly. “Crazy, right? Like, full on horror movie type shit.”

Kelly nudged me gently with her hip. “You okay?” I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Just…a lot.” Because it was a lot.

But underneath the swirl of emotions, one thing stood out clear and sharp. A weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I pushed through the rest of the morning in a daze, slinging plates of eggs and pouring refill after refill of burnt coffee. The diner buzzed with life as it always did, a cacophony of clinking forks, laughter, and old rock songs crackling from the jukebox.

But I couldn’t stop glancing toward the door. Part of me was expecting the sleaze of a man to strut in and begin to chat me up like he’d always do. But I knew that wouldn’t happen, dead people couldn’t come back to life. 

Every time I didn’t see him leering at me from his usual stool, it felt like the air grew lighter, easier to breathe. I didn’t realize just how tightly I’d been wound until the tension began to bleed out of me.

I took orders, refilled coffee, carried trays filled with unhealthy food. I smiled when I was supposed to, nodded in the right places. I even laughed once or twice. But my mind wasn’t really there.

It kept circling back to the video on Tommy’s phone. To the headline, to the image of police dragging something from the murky pond. Jackson Reynolds. Dead. My head couldn’t wrap around the thought of it.

A piece of me knew I should’ve felt something more complicated, horror, sadness, shock. But all I could feel was relief. Cold, guilty relief curling up inside my chest and making itself at home. I wanted to feel guilty for feeling so overwhelmed with joy at the news, but I couldn’t. I’m glad he’s dead. 

And I felt sick admitting it to myself.

I was halfway through wiping down a booth when the door chimed again. And in they came, my favourite regulars. 

Good, a distraction.

I grabbed a notepad, heading toward them out of habit. “Good morning, guys.” I spoke softly, voice steadier than I felt. Brian gave me a lopsided grin. “Hey yourself.”

Toby was the first to speak after that, or at least, he tried. “You l-look-” He twitched hard, cutting himself off. His mouth jerked before he forced out the rest, “—b-better. Like…like something buh-bad’s gone away.”

The words stuck strangely in the air. I paused, blinking at him. Tim shot him a sharp look while Kate kicked him under the table.

Toby winced, shoulders hunching, hands flexing inside his ruined gloves. He muttered a jumbled apology that I couldn’t quite untangle.

“Coffee?” I offered quickly, trying to smooth over whatever the hell that was.

They all nodded, mumbling their usual orders. But as I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling Toby’s words weren’t as random as they seemed.

The day dragged on.

I served plate after plate of greasy food, made endless trips to the kitchen, wiped down every surface twice. I tried to lose myself in the rhythm, the mindless repetition.

But every time I passed their booth, I caught little snippets.

Toby, muttering to himself.

Brian, hushing him sharply.

Kate, rolling her eyes and hissing something under her breath.

Tim, rubbing his temples like this was all normal for them.

And Toby’s muttering, broken by tics, low and stuttered, always seemed to slither just within earshot.

“…n-no more p-p-problems…”

“…s-shouldn’t a-have b-b-bothered her…”

“…p-pretty things s-shouldn’t b-be scared…”

The hair on the back of my neck prickled every time I caught a word.

It wasn’t just the way he said it.

It was the certainty in his voice.

Like he knew exactly what had happened.

Like he thought it was good.

Every time he’d mumble out a string of stutters, I’d  frown, glancing back at him, but he just twitched and scratched at the bandage on his cheek, eyes darting away to look anywhere else but me. 

Tim caught my look and lightly smacked the back of Toby’s head. “Knock it off,” he said, voice low.

Toby mumbled another apology, his shoulders hunching as he busied himself studying the worn table.

Weird. And his strange behaviour continued for the rest of my shift.

Toby kept throwing out little comments, half murmured, broken by tics and stutters. “Got w-what he deserved,” he whispered when he thought no one was listening, “Shoulda kuh-kept h-his hands to himself.”

Each time, Brian, Tim or Kate would elbow him, shoot him a look, or outright hiss at him to shut up. I pretended I didn’t hear anything. But I heard.

I heard every word.

By the time my shift ended and I dragged myself back to my apartment, I was exhausted both physically and mentally.

The day had been long. The news about Jackson still echoed at the back of my mind, like a lingering bad dream that couldn’t quite be shaken off.

I tossed my keys onto the counter, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. The apartment was quiet, too quiet. I stared at the ceiling for a long minute, letting my thoughts swirl and settle.

That’s when I noticed it.

The candle on the coffee table, the one I always kept in the center, was off to the side. Barely noticeable. Barely anything. Except I was obsessive about it.

Dead center. Always. I sat up slowly, frowning. Maybe I’d bumped it earlier. Maybe I’d moved it without thinking. Maybe…

I stood and crossed the room to check the door. Locked. The windows? Locked.

I shook my head, laughing under my breath. I was being paranoid. One weird day and I was already jumping at shadows. I went to bed early, leaving the candle where it was, too tired to care.

The next morning, it was my notepad.

The small, spiral-bound one I kept on my nightstand, filled with random thoughts and half-formed dreams.

Gone.

I tore apart my apartment looking for it. Under the bed, behind the couch, in the kitchen junk drawer. Nothing. As if it had disappeared.

It wasn’t like me to lose things. Especially not that notebook.

I sat on the floor, rubbing my temples, trying to remember the last time I’d seen it.

A knock at the door jolted me upright. Heart racing, I peered through the peephole. No one there. Just an empty hallway. I swallowed hard, locking the door again, bolt, chain, everything.

Days passed.

I told myself I was imagining things.

Told myself that I’d just been stressed, tired, distracted.

But things kept happening.

My notepad that had  vanished for three days, reappeared on my pillow like some twisted offering. Pages had been rifled through, I could tell. The creases were different. The cover slightly bent.

And then… the laundry. At first, it was a missing sock. Then a missing T-shirt. Then my favorite hoodie disappeared altogether. When it finally turned up again, folded neatly on the back of my couch, it smelled wrong. 

Like it had been… somewhere else. Someone else’s hands on it. Someone had been inside my apartment. I was sure of it.

One night, lying awake in bed, I thought I heard breathing. Not my own.

Heavy and shallow.

I lay frozen for what felt like hours, every creak and groan of the old building suddenly a deafening roar in my ears.

When I finally worked up the courage to check, my phones flashlight on as I clutched the device in my trembling hand, there was nothing. No one.

But the window was cracked open just a hair. And I never left it unlocked.

The next day at the diner, the four of them were already there when I arrived, huddled over coffee like they owned the place.

Toby caught my eye and smiled wide, too wide, his mouth twitching unnaturally.

“You l-look tired,” he said, voice thick with something that wasn’t quite concern.

Tim slapped the back of his head again, and the older man muttered something under his breath and shook his head, exhausted.

Kate just stared at me, unreadable. While Brian was observing you quietly. Too quiet for the normally talkative guy.

And for the first time since I’d met them, I wondered to myself ‘Who are they, really?’

I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.

By the end of the week, every creak in my apartment sounded like footsteps. Every shadow seemed to stretch just a little too long. Every face in the diner was a potential threat.

I couldn’t keep pretending this was normal. I needed to tell someone.

So that’s exactly what I did.

It was early morning, a fresh week, when I finally pulled Kelly aside. The diner wasn’t too busy yet, just a few old timers nursing black coffee and bitter memories. The buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead made everything feel even more sterile, detached.

Kelly was wiping down the counter when I approached, twisting a rag between her hands.

“Hey, Kel,” I tap her shoulder, voice low, barely above a whisper. “You got a sec?” She looked up, smiling her usual easy smile. “Yeah, what’s up?”

I glanced around nervously before stepping closer, heart hammering. Where do I even start?

“I think…” I swallowed hard. “I think someone’s been in my apartment.” Kelly blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean-” I leaned in, desperate to get it all out, “-things keep moving. My notepad disappeared and came back. My hoodie went missing, and it… it smelled wrong when I found it. Someone’s been touching my stuff, Kelly. Someone’s been inside my home.”

I barely breathed after speaking the words out loud, as if saying them made it all worse. Kelly’s face softened with concern, but not the kind I needed.

She let out a small laugh, brushing a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “Honey… you’re just shook up.”

“No, Kelly, listen,” I pressed, voice shaking. “It’s not just that. At night, I feel like someone’s watching me. And at work too. And Toby- you know, the one with the stutter, he keeps saying weird stuff. Stuff that makes me think he knows something.”

Kelly frowned a little, setting the rag down. “Y/N… look. What happened with Jackson, it messed you up. That’s normal. Anyone would be paranoid after what he put you through and then… you know… ending up the way he did.”

She glanced around quickly, like even mentioning his death might summon something terrible.

“I’m telling you, it’s not just paranoia,” I said, teeth gritted. “I know when something’s wrong. I feel it. This isn’t normal.”

Kelly sighed, giving me a pitying smile. The kind you give to someone you think they are overreacting.

“You’re safe now,” she said gently. “Jackson’s gone. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. Those new regulars? They’re weird, sure, but they seem harmless.”

I stared at her, feeling the floor tilt slightly under my feet. She didn’t believe me. Not really.

“Just… try to relax, okay?” she said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Maybe take a few days off. Sleep in. Watch some dumb reality TV. You’ll feel better.”

I nodded because it was easier than arguing. But deep down, I knew.

Sleep wasn’t the problem. I could lock every window, deadbolt every door, and I still wouldn’t be safe.

Because whatever was happening, whoever was creeping into my apartment, rifling through my life, potentially watching me, they weren’t breaking in.

They were already inside.

And Kelly’s comforting words weren’t enough to stop the cold creeping through my veins.

But maybe she was right, maybe I am being paranoid…?

The rest of my shift passed in a blur.

The diner got busier, and Kelly was pulled away to help at the register.

I was left alone at the counter, mind racing.

At one point, I glanced up from pouring coffee and found Toby staring at me from across the diner.

Not at the menu.

Not at his buddies

At me.

His head twitched slightly to the side, the faintest grin curling at the corners of his mouth.

The minute our eyes met, he jerked his head down, hiding the smile.

Tim elbowed him hard in the ribs, muttering something I couldn’t hear.

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head, like this was nothing new.

But it was new to me. And it was terrifying. But I just shook my head. “No, Y/n… you’re being paranoid, just paranoid…” I mumbled to myself.

Kelly was right.

I was just paranoid. What happened to Jackson had shaken me deeper than I wanted to admit, left cracks in my mind that fear kept slipping through. I told myself it made sense, the stress, the long shifts, the endless loop of bad sleep and scary thoughts. I was exhausted, and exhausted people made mistakes. Misplaced things. Forgot small details. Imagined shadows where there weren’t any. 

The regulars? Brian, Tim, Kate, and Toby? They were just that, regulars. Weird, maybe, but harmless. I couldn’t keep jumping at every glance, every half heard word. If I didn’t get a grip soon, I was going to drive myself insane.

I sat on the edge of my bed that night, forcing myself to go over everything again. The candle had probably been bumped when I was cleaning. The missing notepad? I must’ve tucked it somewhere absentmindedly and just forgot. The hoodie? Maybe it had fallen behind the couch and picked up that stale, musty smell from the floorboards… that was all. 

Normal explanations. Logical explanations. Nothing bad was happening. No one was watching me. No one had been in my apartment. I repeated it to myself like a prayer until the panic in my chest dulled to a quiet ache. I wasn’t a victim. Not anymore

Everything is fine.

[tkpuke]

To be Loved is to be Known

Pairing - Powder x Ekko

Word count: 1,689

In which Ekko starts to feel stressed out while working on the time machine to bring him back to his own universe he belongs in. Powder knows a great method to help relieve his stress, one unbeknownst to him.

This is a tickle fic. Please do not read if that’s not your thing.

Papers were scattered around Ekko, some crumpled up and torn out of frustration. A small beam of light started to make its way into the room, signaling the sun coming up. That didn’t matter to Ekko, however, because what mattered most is why he just can’t seem to brush over this damn minor problem he’s having on the machine.

Footsteps were being heard, getting closer until Powder was revealed. “Thought I’d might find you here. Vander made everyone a delicious breakfast, come down an— have you been up all night?” She stopped in her tracks once getting a full good look at his state, his eyes meeting hers. Visible heavy eye-bags forming and looking fatigued and irritated. Ekko looks over to a window to see the sun, swearing it was only 9 pm two seconds ago.

“No…?” He starts, but Powder gives him one raised eyebrow and he sighs. “Okay, fine, I have been.” He rubs his temple as he leans against the table, Powder joining him as she rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But it’s because I’ve come across an issue that just won’t seem to go away, no matter what I do.”

She lets out an airy laugh. “Hey, nothing we can’t fix, right?” A determined smile takes over her features, but doesn’t last long when Ekko didn’t return the smile and just stared at the floor deep in thought.

Powder can read the ins and outs of Ekko. It is one’s job of being a girlfriend, isn’t it? That being said, she can definitely tell how mentally tiring working on this machine is starting to take a toll on Ekko. He’s only ever out to go get food, not wanting to waste any unnecessary time on anything else that’s not working on getting him back home to his people. Powder practically has to drag him out sometimes to get fresh air and hangout with the others that are asking where he’s been.

Powder is smart, no doubt about that. She picked up after a few days that Ekko wasn’t her Ekko, but regardless they are still the same person, hence feeling confident on doing a personal favorite activity of hers that she knows will help Ekko ease up and get his mind off things that are stressing him to the core.

“Want me to tickle you?”

Ekko blinked. “What?”

He slowly looked over to her, an innocent smile she’s wearing. Powder takes a step forward, Ekko takes a step back. “Y’know, what I do to help you relax whenever you get like this.” She says ever so casually as if Ekko is probably thinking ‘oh yeah, that thing!’

But Ekko wasn’t thinking that. Quite frankly, his heart started to beat faster every step Powder attempted to get closer to him, noticing her flexing her fingers a bit. “W…what are you talking ab—“

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it.” She cuts him off, grinning slyly when he takes a moment to put the pieces together. In this universe, somewhere along their relationship, Powder made the beautiful discovery that Ekko doesn’t hate being tickled as much as the normal person does. If anything, he absolutely enjoys the playful action and like how Powder stated earlier, drowns any stress out of him.

Only though the Ekko from the original timeline that’s in this Ekko’s body hasn’t quite made that discovery of himself just yet. Hence the confusion, his thought process that Powder has gone mad, and believing that fact of him is simply not true.

He must have been too caught up on his thoughts racing, because he felt himself suddenly backed up into a wall. Trapped, but only momentarily. He looks at an opening to escape on Powder’s left side. Powder reads his stance, knowing exactly his next move.

Ekko makes one last look at Powder. She does the same.

He books it.

You can’t outrun Powder in a place that she knows the ins and outs of. All the shortcuts, exits, and obstacles that would slow down a chase. Which further explains why Powder catches up to Ekko so quickly, pouncing on him as they go down together on the floor. He catches one of her wrists, the other high up out of his reach on purpose.

“Powder! Please.” Ekko nervously giggles out, but feeling a sense of thrill inside that he never felt before. A lively one at that, almost as if he’s excited to see what will happen next.

“Alright alright, your pleas have been heard.” Without any form of build-up, she immediately sticks her hands under his arms and starts wiggling away. “No need to beg for me to tickle you.”

She can’t help but break out into a cheeky smile when her ears pick up that sweet melodic tune: his laughter.

Ekko cannot remember the last time he has been properly tickled ever since Benzo died in his original timeline. He didn’t even know if he still was ticklish, thinking that sort of stuff just kind of vanishes overtime while growing up. Although, clearly the Ekko in this perfect timeline he was stuck in has definitely had people make a habit of tickling him whenever the opportunity arises, especially Powder. She went straight for the kill, having her fingers get trapped in his underarms as he squirms for freedom all the while cackling for the whole world to hear.

“PohohoWDEHEHER!” Is all he can say, struggling to form any coherent sentence without his laughter interrupting the process. She relents a little, scratching a bit lighter. “That’s me!” Powder watches him flail a bit less, noticing how he’s grabbing her wrists but not making any attempts to move them.

“sohomewhere ehehelse. Give me a sehehecond..” he managed to say, already sounding out of breath in the thirty seconds she’s tickled him. He’s never experienced anything like this, all so new. So it might look like Ekko is more ticklish than Powder is use to, finding it a bit cute how he tapped out so fast.

“I would love to, but I’m kind of trapped here mister.” She wiggles her stuck fingers to state the obvious, him giggling hard. Ekko mentally prepares himself a little, slowly raising his arms a bit for her to bring her hands back. He’s a fool to ever think there’s not another spot far worse, because Powder instantly latched onto his knees from behind and started squeezing like there was no tomorrow.

Completely caught off guard by how deadly of a spot his knees were, Ekko snorted out a deep belly laugh and it all continuously spilled out from there. It’s surprising that nobody came in from the start to check out who kept screaming as if they’re getting murdered, but it’s just Ekko who cannot handle a few wiggles here and a few squeezes there.

“Did you just snort?” Powder chuckled, but not expecting any answer from him as he was too busy trying to buck her off. She managed to lock her legs around his in a way where she didn’t budge in the slightest from his hysterical movement, smugly looking down at him.

“Toohoho MUHUCH! NOHOT THERE PLE-“ a sharp hiccup cut him off, feeling absolutely embarrassed and mortified from all these unknown noises he didn’t even know he could make come out of him so freely. Hands started to trail upwards from his knees, a sense of a small break but it wasn’t much of a difference for poor Ekko. “You told me to go somewhere else, remember!?”

Powder almost felt guilty for having way too much fun, but she knew she wasn’t alone with that feeling. Ekko was too, don’t let his reactions ever fool anybody. Noting his hands tightly around her wrists but never moving them, knowing damn well he’s strong enough to easily do so. Saying ‘please!’ but never a ‘stop!’ and suggesting for new spots for her to attack. You’d have to be blind to come to an assumption that he wasn’t enjoying himself.

His laughter was starting to be overtaken by sharp hiccups, which has always been a cue for Powder to stop soon. Soon.

Showing mercy on his knees, her hands find their way to his neck to start lightly skittering. Ekko grabs onto one of them, fingers interlocking with hers. “Ohohokay, stop! I’m nohot stressed, I’m nohohot!”

Powder softly smiles at the sight in front of her, heart feeling warm. The smell of the breakfast Vander made downstairs caused her to stop, realizing she and Ekko both had a plate of untouched food still waiting for them.

She got off of him with ease, sticking out a hand for him to take to help him up. Catching his breath, Ekko took the offering hand and stood up fully, brushing off some dust from his pants. He looks over at Powder, shooting her a cold but jokingly glare. “That was horrible. I’m not that bad to you to deserve that, am I?”

Chuckling, she gives his arm a little push. “If it was so horrible, I would’ve heard you say stop a lot sooner than you did.”

Silence was his response, feeling his face heating up. She’s right, Powder is always right. It’d be pointless for him to argue with her and deny, because even he knows the truth. Ekko enjoyed every second of it, because when was the last time him and Powder ever played around like this? In his timeline, not since they were twelve.

He misses the good times so much, and him needing to relive those memories and emotions were long overdue, but at least he experienced it one last time with someone he so dearly loves before heading back home.

Powder knows he’d never admit it, so she broke the silence first. “How does eggs and french toast sound?” They both share the same smile, Ekko walking right beside Powder as they head on downstairs where everyone else is.

These are the moments he wished he could stay in forever, never having to leave or give up something behind. Ekko will never forget this, forget her, and he’ll promise Powder that.

[d0rothydraws]

Love

(Comfort/fluff)

Sylus never thought he would actually fall in love. He never really cared for the topic and the whole idea of it seemed more like a distraction than anything else.

That was, until you came into his life.

Over the time he spent with you, he felt his walls crack. You constantly plagued his mind every second of the night. At first he didn't really know how to process this new feeling. And yet, when he seen you try to hide your smile at his teasing, when you made that little sound while eating a delicious meal. It made his heart warm. A warmth he never had felt before. Before you.

And now, it was routine for him to spoil you. You had more clothes and plushies that you knew what to do with but he picked each and every one diligently. And while he seen the plushies as unnecessary and even childish, the sparkle in your eye when he presented one to you was worth the fights he would have with the claw machine.

You called him once, later than usual which was early for him. Your voice was strained, wet sounding. Something bad happened, and it was hard to really understand the details but right then it didn't matter to him. Before you knew it you were in his arms. The smell of whisky and sandalwood filling your nose. The fabric of his sweater against your cheek as he held you close, whispering soft words in your ear. You could hear his heart pounding. Even though his voice was calm, tender and warm as always, you could hear how seeing you like this effected him. Once in a while you swore there was a waver in his voice, his large hands twitching, trying to not show how upset it made him to see you like this.

As your eyes closed and breath slowed, sleep found you finally. Yet the sound of your cries still echoed in Sylus' mind. Whatever caused you to be so upset will be promptly dealt with. In the morning he would be sure to pamper you. All of your favorite foods that made you do the little sounds that made his heart warm. More plushies that made your eyes sparkle.

He never thought that he would fall in love. But as he held your sleeping body, cheeks red from the dried tears, he felt an emotion he never had before.

Love.

[lvrrgirlll]

Running a cozy little bed and breakfast and hobo!Patrick charms you into letting him stay for free

The little bell sat on the front desk dinging broke your attention from the coffee you were in the process of making yourself. Walking through the doorway between the kitchen and front entryway, you smile, seeing the disheveled man before you, tapping his fingers against the desk mindlessly.

“Hi, um, I was wondering if I could get a room for the night,” the man asked, tired eyes meeting yours hopefully.

“Of course, it’s $100 a night and that includes breakfast in the morning.” You don’t miss how clearly attractive he is. He looks to be around your age —maybe a little older— and has a sort of swagger that you can’t exactly describe, even despite his tired state.

As he held his credit card up to the machine on the end of the desk, the hopeful look in his eyes seemed to dissipate. He chuckled, looking up at you and offering a tight lipped smile as if it was just a mistake with the machine. “One second…” he murmured, pulling out his phone to check his bank account. You didn’t miss the quiet “oh fuck” that left his mouth as he looked down at his phone before putting it back in his pocket.

He leaned on the desk, laughing dryly as a smirk crossed his face. “So uh… funny story, sweetheart. I’m sort of short on funds. But I’m a tennis player, I’m playing in the challenger a couple miles down the road and if I could just crash here tonight I can pay you back when I win…” His expression is smug but his voice drips with desperation. You can see the dark circles under his eyes and the way his eyelids hang low. He’s endearing, but admittedly smells sort of… ripe. And his pleading eyes really sell it all. How could you say no to him?

Smiling at him again, trying to be warm and understanding, not wanting to embarrass him for his lack of funds, you nod. “Um- sure, you can stay here tonight without paying… yet, that is. As long as you’re sure you’ll win that thing.”

“Oh, I don’t think we have to worry about that,” he muses cockily. “But I get a minimum for just playing in the first round anyways, so even if I lose tomorrow I’ll be able to pay you,” he tacks on seriously.

“Alrighty,” you nod again. “You can follow me up to your room.”

The two of you walk silently up the stairs where 4 doors lie in a small hallway. You open one up, motioning for him to enter as you turn the lights on. The room is quaint but in a cozy sort of way. You ensure he’s settled in and knows where everything is before moving for the door, ready to leave him be. Something in you, though, longs to keep him around as long as you can. His charming air has captured you.

“Have you already eaten dinner,” you ask, turning to look at him, leaning on the doorframe.

Something flashes across his face —surprise maybe. He seems genuinely flattered by your question. Maybe it was just the fact that he hadn’t actually eaten, too eager to get where he was going and concerned he wouldn’t have enough gas if he pulled off the highway to stop anywhere, or maybe it was because he found you irresistible, but he felt a pang of hunger (which type, who’s to say?) in that moment.

“No, I, uh… I haven’t eaten, actually,” he replies gently.

You hum in understanding. “Well I was going to make myself some grilled cheese and tomato soup if you want any? It’s the slow season here so it’s just you and me, but you’re welcome to join if you like.” He nods as you leave with another sweet smile, heading down to the kitchen.

Right as you’re getting the second sandwich out of the pan, your heart footsteps on the creaky floorboards, alerting you of his presence. “Oh, hi. Dinner’s ready.”

He nods, taking a seat at the small table in the kitchen. You bring over his food, then yours, before moving to the fridge, asking if he wanted anything to drink. “Got any beer,” he asks carelessly. You turn around holding two beers in your hands, smiling from ear to ear.

Over dinner the two of you talk about his tennis career, where he strategically avoids telling you about his sort of ‘fall from grace’ and how he got to the point he got to. You’re impressed, of course. He asks you about what made you start a b&b in some random countryside town, to which you tell him how it had been run by your late grandmother before you took over when your parents decided they didn’t want the business. He comments how nice it was for you to do something like that.

Despite his obviously sort of sleazy vibe, he’s been so kind thus far. You’re completely enraptured in him and he knows it too. He can see it in the way you look at him and the way you bite your lip when he says something sort of risqué and the way you rub your thighs together when he stretches, revealing the tiniest bit of his toned abdomen.

The night ends with him in your room instead of his own, taking out all of his troubles on you in the most pleasant ways imaginable. Safe to say, you let him stay through the whole challenger, no longer really worried about the money, but more about the devilishly handsome man before you.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic

three.

[two] [three] [four]

compare thee to a summer’s day.

The bell tones as you enter the cafe, you glance around the store. Hoping to see someone. Your eyes land on him. The unnamed boy from class. “Yes.” You mutter excitedly as you head to the front counter to put in your order. 

Last night was a rough night as you had some time to think due to Powder leaving your shared dorm to hang out with her boyfriend. She offered to stay, repeatedly but you told her some solitude would be good for you. It was and it wasn’t.

Maddie reentering your life only brought up the sour memories of the friendship that she caused to end. You didn’t even know the guy's name but he meant so much to you. You called him by his gamertag. 

Machine Herald. Something you made fun of because his friend had made it for him. You called him 'Ma' as a joke and then it stuck. He always told you how stupid it was. It was like you were calling him mom. After a while his complaints slowed and that lived to be his new name. 

“[Name]!” The barista cuts through your thoughts, you snatch the pastries along with your coffee on the hard surface. Thanking the worker curtly before heading over to who you were determined to be your new friend. You slide into the booth across from him.

“Hiii!” You sang, sliding over the coconut lilikoi puff to him. Taking a sip out of your straw as you do so. 

His face contorts with confusion, staring down at the pastry. “What’s this?” He asks, suspicious of the food. “A desert.” You smile, opening your own little baggy that held a cherry danish. “I know- I meant why?” His gaze finally meets with yours after you had taken a bite of the sustenance.

You hold up your index finger to give you a second. 

Swallowing it down, taking a drink to clear your throat out. “I want to be friends.” You declare with a straight face, not able to hold it long because you begin to grin right away. “Friends? You sure this isn’t some sort of decoy so that you can copy off of me later in the semester?” He accuses you of such an abominable thing, your hand squeezes at your chest. 

“Oh my gosh! You think I’m dumb!?” Your eyes were wide and his face heats up. “No, no. I- I just- this seems like a bribe.” He explains his thinking process and you giggle. “It’s okay, I know I’m not dumb. I genuinely just want to be your friend!” You take another bite of your sweet. 

He purses out his lips, observing the pastry before him. How did you know his favorite was this? What a lucky guess. He doesn’t respond to you, only taking a bite of the puff. You beam at this, you were begging that you were right about what he would enjoy. And you were. 

The relief washes over your face. “I’m [Name] by the way.” You wipe your dirtied hand on your pants before thrusting it over the table towards him. His hand smacked against yours as he grabbed it. Awarding you a microscopic shake before taking it back to his side. 

“Viktor.” He voices, proceeding to another bite of his food. “And thank you, this is lovely.” He acknowledges his gratitude. “Of course! You seemed like a coconut lover.” You tell him with a close-eyed grin. He didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“So, chemistry. We have that today. How fun!” You announce something he clearly already knows but amongst this he hums out a ‘yes’ to it anyway. “Do you like science?” You ask him, eyes locked on him. He averts your stare by focusing on his pastry or his phone that was face down. “Yeah, do you?” 

“Mm, it’s alright. I’m more into like English. Or art. I’m a Fine Arts Major. Sculpting, painting, all the fun stuff.” You ramble. Viktor didn’t understand how you had this much energy at 8 o'clock in the morning. “That’s cool.”

It’s sincere though. He wasn’t just saying that. 

“What’s your major?” You finish your danish, crumpling the paper baggy. “Biochemistry.” He answers, you gasp. “Chemistry makes sense for you then, huh?” You snicker, standing up from your spot after you see the time. 

He grabs his cane, slowly gliding himself out of the booth. You grab his trash, skipping over to the bin and throwing it away. Viktor figures you’re leaving now but instead you are opening the door, standing there patiently as he makes his way towards it.

 “Let’s walk together, yeah?” You let him walk through the door before following after him. “If you want to.” He curtly nods his head, surprisingly he didn’t mind your presence. Or your rambles as you would ask him a question, listen to him and wait for him to return the query to you so you could chatter once more. 

“It’s nice to see the doors open when I’m coming to class.” You sweat, recalling how you were late to a few of your classes already. Viktor chuckles lowly. Your heart pings at the sound, this was the first time he laughed the entire conversation. You stood up straighter, proud. 

For the next two hours of the lecture you tried to focus on the professor but your mind kept going back to Viktor’s laugh you had suppressed out of him. You needed to make it happen again. 

“Alright, choose your partners. This project will need to be done by October 14th. That gives you a month from now.” The professor speaks, writing the date down on the chalkboard. You immediately look to Viktor.

“Partners?” Your legs were practically jumping up and down. His lips twitch upwards. “Partners.” He agrees and you let out a small squeal.

“We’re so getting first place.” 

“It’s not a contest?” He breathily snickers, another laugh.

Another win for you. 

“Everything’s a contest if you make it one.” You shrug your shoulders, standing up from your seat. “Will you be at the cafe tomorrow?” You tilt your head to the side. 

“I’ll be there.” He says. “See you then, Vikkie!” You wave goodbye, walking out of the classroom. 

————————————————

love.[name]3 12 337 127 ↗️ …

Posts followers following

[name] [last name] she/her

☾˙❀‿❀˙☽

Piltover uni!!! 2028🎓

@ whowhathuh

@ [name]artsie

————————————————

Viktor scrolls on your account, seeing that you mainly have photos of you with your friends up. The occasional selfie. Your highlights separated and organized.

He goes through each one, observing every picture in perfect detail. Curious about the type of persona you put out on the internet. It was pretty much identical to who you actually were. Your energy was bright, shining on others. 

He looks at your bio, seeing that you have your art and spam linked in it.

Your spam was private but your art account was luckily public like your main. It had 5,607 followers. 

——————————————

[name]artsie 27 5607 27 ↗️ …

posts followers following

bozo she/her

doing this to be as famous as those turtles…

<3

Followed by: caitlynnnk, violentvi, melmedarda, and m.herald2077

——————————————————

He gawked at the first three posts, you did say you were a fine arts major but he didn’t think you were going to be this amazing! You recreated smaller versions of sculptures you’re incredibly fond of.

Your paintings were of crowds of people. Different places each time though. 

He then sees that Violet, Mel and Caitlyn followed the account. Along with another that he hadn’t seen in a long time. He clicked on the name. M.Herald2077. 

——————————————

Vik.tor_e 0 137 120 ↗️ …

posts followers following

Viktor E. he/him

2027🎓

followed by: caitlynnnk, and violentvi

——————————————

He had a following of 137, no posts except for highlights. You bite the inside of your mouth before clicking on the first highlight, labeled: “friends.”

He was never in the pictures, just blurry photos of his friends having a fun time. A lot of them were at a park at night time. A few others of the group drinking on someone’s porch.

You click to the next highlight, this one just having a moon emoji as its label. It was pictures of random views but again, only at nighttime.

It was beautiful nonetheless. 

And the last highlight was labeled ‘ma.’ Your heart ached at the familiar name.

It was pictures of himself, his face covered. They were either mirror pictures with his phone covering his features, or someone taking his photo and he was looking the other way. 

Ma… What a coincidence. 

You then boldly press the follow button, swiping away from his account.

You listen to the song playing in your airpod as you go to your spam account, wanting to vent on your private story. Humming the music.

Before you even get to click on the button you see a notification pop up on the top of your screen. 

[Message request from: maddieee_lol] 

Your face drops, ignoring it with a quick swipe. You press the little plus button on your profile picture. 

—————————————

UGHHHH HE’S SO COOLLLLLLL

I need to be his bestest friend

trust it will happen🤞 :P

You post it on your close friends, triple checking that Maddie couldn’t see it even though you never accepted her request.

Placing your phone on the charger you walk out of your dorm room. “Omg, hey Gert!” You jog over to the girl who you used to have a class with last year. “Hey, [Name]!” She politely says in return, unlocking her dorm, about to enter it. 

“How have you been!? I can’t believe we're neighbors!” You point out, extremely giddy about seeing another good-natured person this semester. “I’m good, I know how exciting! Wanna come in?” She holds the door open and you enter after her offer. “So pretty!” You compliment. 

“Thank you, it’s nice seeing you [Name]. I was worried we wouldn’t have bumped into one another this year.” Gert pouts, you internally laugh at her words. Mylo would’ve made it happen, he found Gert to be gorgeous. Stalking her frequently since he was too much of a pussy to speak to her. 

You were going to see her one way or another this year.

“Ah, well fate said otherwise!!” You eagerly thrilled, clasping your hands together. “Hah, I’m glad. I actually entered art this year because of you.” She mentions and you perk your head up towards her. “No way! Maybe we have the same professor or same class!!” You jump over to her as she pulls out her schedule, handing it to you. You fervently snatch the paper from her, scanning it over.

“We do! We have the same class on Friday!” Your eyes were sparkling, giving the paper back. Gert wondered if you ever felt a bad emotion, always being so… electric and bright. 

You begin to ramble about how excited you were. “I need to show you this painting I’m working on! I’m painting one of my sculptures. I haven’t been very motivated or… mused? Did I use that right?” You jut out your bottom lip as you thought about it for a moment. You roll your eyes, deeming that you didn’t care. “Whatever, I’m painting this sculpture. Atropos. Goddess of fate and destiny. My favorite work done by Carstens.” You inform her, you went to grab your phone, forgetting you left it in your room on the charger. “Shoot! I’ll be right back.” 

Gert only smiles, waiting for you to get back. You rush into your dorm, plucking the device off of the mattress. Speeding back to your friend’s dorm. Slightly out of breath. “I am- hah- so out of shape.” You stuck a hand out as you hunched over pleading with yourself to breathe. 

Gert laughs at your figure, shaking her head. “Sorry, sorry. One second.” You cough, you felt slight embarrassment by the fact that you were so out of breath by just running down the hall and back. 

You fix your posture, opening your phone. You see a new notification, someone followed your main account. You click on it, forgetting all about showing Gert your painting.

[vik.tor_e is now following you].

You smile at your phone screen before snapping yourself out of it. Clearing off Instagram and going to your gallery. You had over 7000 pictures on your phone. Capturing almost every single memory you’ve ever had. You go to your art album. 

“See! It still needs more shading and I was thinking of adding vines to it!” You reveal to the girl who has almost gotten bored sitting there waiting. Her pupils dilate at the masterpiece on the screen. “[Name], you’re so talented.” She whines out. 

“Awe, so sweet!” You place your phone in your back pocket. You think back to Mylo and his weirdly obsessive crush over this girl. You understand why, she’s such a sweetheart. You then remember the karaoke night that’s in two days. “Do you like to sing?” You suddenly ask. 

“Huh?” She furrowed her eyebrows. “Do you like to sing?” You repeat. “I mean, I guess.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Want to come to this karaoke night with my friends and I?” You propose to Gert who thinks for a moment. Pressing her lips together like this was a tough decision to make. 

“Sure.” She shortly answers in a simple manner. 

“Great! I’ll pick you up, be sure to dress pretty!!” You leave the room, twiddling your fingers before shutting the door.

You calmly walk back to your dorm, you forgot your whole reason for going out of your dorm to begin with. Until you sat down on your bed. 

“Shit, I have pee!” You cry out under your breath, standing back up. 

[brainddeadd]

Worries (pt 3)

Nico Hischier x Hughes!sister reader

Jack Hughes x sister!reader, Quinn Hughes x sister!reader, Luke Hughes x sister!reader, Trevor Zegras x platonic!reader, Jayden Williamson x ex!reader (OC)

Warnings: fluff, angst, surgery, and injury mention

You can hear Nico before you see him. The frantic tone of his voice as he practically yells at the poor nurse just doing her job.

"I can't let you in. You're not family-" her voice is calm but you know it won't do much to relax Boone.

"Fuck that, she's my-" Nico cuts himself off, and you can hear the sharp intake of breath as he remembers where he is.

"She's my sister and his girl," Jack supplies, a long suffering sigh leaving his lips. "Idiots think I don't know."

"Yeah, cause everything about Nico right now just screams really good friend," you can practically hear Luke's eye roll.

"Look man I'm sorry we were gonna tell you but right now I don't care all I care about is seeing her before I go fucking insane ok so lady please let me in the room." Nico's voice turns desperate and pleading and you can hear someone pat him on the back.

"Ma'am, that's my baby sister in there, and I really need to see her, please," Quinn's voice is polite, but there's an edge to it you recognise. He's not going to take no for an answer.

"Jack, Neeks-" your voice is weaker than expected, but they both hear you, and Nico barges past the nurse, shoving the door open with a bang, his eyes settling on you in the bed, blood on your face and arms, leg bandaged around your calf.

"Sunneschi," Breathlessly, Nico moves towards you, purposely going around the bed, eyes scanning for anymore injuries before he takes your hand and places a tender kiss on to your lips. "Fuck baby, you scared me."

Your brothers watch the scene with fascination, unable to process the tenderness Nico is displaying. Eventually, Jack grins, head falling backwards in disbelief.

"Can't believe Nico here's gonna be my brother in law," he mutters, coming over to take your other hand. "How you feelin'?"

"Sore from the fall, but ok."

~~

It's three days later when Jack knocks on your door, Quinn and Luke in tow, and scolds you for not telling him about you and Nico. He stands there with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face, looking like a perpetulant child. He settles down when Nico walks into the room, a tray of food in hand, and your medicine ready for you to take.

"Ok, I've got you- oh hey guys- I've got your meds and then I made you some toast with your favourite strawberry jam on it, which is surprisingly difficult to find but I managed, and a hot chocolate cause the coffee machine broke," Nico places the tray down on the small table in front of you, "and I've got your.. where is, fuck hold on-"

Nico rushes from the room, leaving a smiling you and a dumbfounded Jack, only to reappear a few seconds later with a book and a special pencil case he got you for your sticky notes, highlighter and pens.

"Your book," he huffs, placing it beside the tray, smiling as he turns to your brothers. "Hey guys, you want anything?"

"Nah nah, I'm good, thanks," Jack turns slightly, hesitating before shaking his head to himself and leaving, "see y'all later!"

Quinn and Luke give you quick kisses on the forehead before they follow Jack out the door.

Nico turns to you with his eyebrow raised in question, and you shrug, opting to hold your arms out for a hug instead. Nico willingly slides into the hug, careful not to press on any of the places he thinks could hurt (he memorised the list).

~~

"Nico.."

"Yeah baby," his voice is muffled from the way his cheek is pressing to your head. "You ok?"

"M'great," taking his hand in your own, you bring his fingers up to your lips, his fingers flexing slightly from the contact. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, humming contently when he feels your breathing even out.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hiii! Can I make a request for Charlie? I read your pregnant darling and im curious how it would play out when his s/o is giving birth. I love your fics btw and im a huge fan of your oc's!

Awe, thank you so much, I appreciate the support! And sure thing for the request, I hope you enjoy!

Yandere! Mafia Boss With An S/O Who’s Giving Birth

Technically GN! Reader because pronouns aren’t used but reader is pregnant so…presumed afab reader

Warnings: Reader is giving birth, pregnancy, medical stuff, needles, Charlie is Yandere but doesn’t really do a whole lot of insane stuff in this one, mentions of death and stuff going wrong but nothing bad happens don’t worry

(Also, I mentioned this in the pregnancy post but I’m gonna do it again here; In this scenario, reader is with Charlie willingly and he’s just Yandere for other reasons. I don’t fw the idea of a kidnapped darling being pregnant, that’s a hard limit for me even though I write darker content).

Divider credit goes to @konatasoup

Charlie’s spent the entirety of your pregnancy worrying about the day you’d finally give birth. He was excited of course, he can’t imagine not being overjoyed, but the prospect of anything going wrong absolutely terrifies him. What if there’s a complication with your pregnancy? What if the baby isn’t as healthy as his doctor says they are? What if you get severely hurt during the birthing process? What if you die? What if-

He tries to surpress his worries, he really does, but as the day draws closer, he can’t help but dwell on them. He does his best to distract himself with prepping everything you might need at the hospital and more importantly, sticking by you every second he possibly can, protecting you from any outward threats he can think of. If something’s gonna go wrong, it’s not gonna be because he failed to keep you safe. Whatever is in his control will be dealt with, you can bet on that.

When it comes time for you to give birth, he’s absolutely frantic, and doing a terrible job at hiding it. Sure, he’ll reassure you he’s fine, but his frantic scrambling to get everything in the car and his nearly erratic driving prove otherwise. You’ll have to spend as much time reassuring him as he does reassuring you, because that man is not calming down any time soon.

However… he does make a pitstop to get your favorite food before you enter the hospital. He’s been told that it might be a while before you can eat again and he’s not about to let you go hungry, so whatever you want, he’ll get (despite his nerves). As long as you aren’t in a ton of pain and ok with him getting you food, he’s happy to provide for you.

Once you get to the hospital, he’s borderline harassing any nurse he can find, demanding you be taken in as soon as possible. He only slightly relaxes once you get into the labor room where you’ll be taken care of, but even then, he’s still shaking wildly, asking every single nurse and doctor what they’re doing to you as they’re doing it. You can’t blame the guy though, he has no idea what’s going on, and he loves you too much to play around with you and your child’s health.

He’ll hold your hand throughout all your contractions, no matter how hard you squeeze. He would really prefer you get an epidural because it kills him to see you in any amount of pain, and you better believe that you’re gonna get it as quick as possible if that’s what you want, but if you want to have the baby naturally, he’ll respect the decision, letting you grip him for dear life throughout the pain. He knows contractions are part of the process, but it still freaks him out to see you go through them, even if you and the nurses tell him you’ll be fine.

Once the baby starts really coming out, he’s on the verge of passing out. There’s nurses everywhere, you’re clearly in pain as you push, people are talking, machines are beeping, there’s a chemical smell overpowering his senses, you’re squeezing his hand for dear life-

Aaaaandddd there he goes.

He passes out right next to you, but he comes back after a second or two, groggy but alert. He might pass out again later, but for now, he focuses all his attention on you, reassuring you that you’re doing so well, and that he can’t wait to meet your child. He’s extremely lightheaded the entire time you’re pushing your kid out, but he does his best to stay focused, too anxious to purposefully allow himself to slip away.

Then he hears your kid crying, and he’s sees a fleshy blob get carried away to be cleaned off, and the biggest rush of relief hits him so hard he starts letting out a couple tears of his own. His child’s here, they’re here and you’re both fine. Nothing went wrong, everything’s ok, and he’s a father now, a real father. He has a kid!

While the doctor’s are making sure your baby is all right, Charlie focuses all his attention on you. You’re exhausted, as expected, but you find enough energy to smile up at Charlie, and he can’t help but smile back. He squeezes your hand reassuringly and pours out soft praises, reminding you how much he loves and you and how excited he is to be a dad.

Charlie spends the rest of the hospital visit absolutely giddy, almost vibrating with his excitement and joy. He watches you hold your kid with the biggest grin on his face, holding out his finger for the baby to grab onto as the two of you coo over them. He can’t keep his eyes away from you two, his gaze landing between your happy face and his baby’s face, trying to soak in every detail, until it’s permanently burned into his memory.

And then you pass the baby to him, saying he should get a turn to hold your kid, and he just melts. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he cradles the tiny human he helped create, absolutely petrified at the prospect of dropping them but beyond jubilant that he finally gets to hold the kid he’s been waiting to meet for so long. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let them go, he’s only known them for a little bit, but he already loves them more than anything in the world (other than you).

Charlie doesn’t really know what the future holds, especially considering his job. But he makes a vow right then and there that no matter what happened, he’s gonna keep his kid as safe and happy as possible, even if that means shielding them from his career as much as possible.

He looks over to you, baby in arm, and smiles. He’ll keep his family safe. He swears it on his life.

I hope you enjoyed!

[deezee112]

The worst ending 17 : Digital Chains

The worst ending 16 | The worst ending 18

Yandere!Idia Shroud x GN!Reader

A/N : The ending was so bad I don't know why. I was like, huh and huh. How did I do that? Excuse me?

If you finish reading it and feel confused about it, that's okay, I'm confused too ( and I don't like it -_- )

Warning : psychological horror , digital imprisonment, and loss of autonomy. It explores manipulation , isolation , and an unsettling descent into , A writer who is very lazy because he has too much work to do.

Tags :

@iris-arcadia @yuu-twisted

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

The dim glow of a computer monitor flickered against the walls, casting strange, shifting shadows. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the small boy curled up in front of the screen, his bright blue hair glowing faintly in the darkness. He had been quiet since you brought him home—never speaking, never responding to your questions. He only tilted his head when you called out to him, as if processing the words like a machine booting up for the first time.

" You don't have a name, do you? " you asked softly, reaching out a hand toward him.

The boy turned to face you, his golden eyes wide and glowing like embers in the dim room. He didn’t speak. He only blinked slowly, as if waiting for you to continue.

" Then I'll give you one. " you said, offering him a smile. " Idia. How about that? "

He tilted his head again, then slowly, cautiously, a small smile stretched across his lips. He nodded once.

" Idia it is. " you murmured, relieved. " I hope we can stay together. "

Raising Idia was unlike anything you had experienced before. At first, he was silent, expressing himself only through slight nods, shrugs, and the occasional twitch of his lips. But as time passed, and as he spent more time glued to the screen, he began to mimic the voices from his games—first in short, awkward phrases, then in full sentences.

" You need to get out of your room sometimes, Idia. " you scolded one afternoon, standing in his doorway with your arms crossed.

" I'm grinding... " he muttered without looking away from the screen, fingers tapping furiously at the keyboard.

" You've been grinding for three days straight. "

" So close to max level... "

" Idia— "

" I'm in the zone, y/n! "

His voice had that mix of dramatic desperation and excitement that only a true gamer could muster. You sighed, rubbing your temples.

" This isn't healthy. You need sunlight. "

" Vitamin D supplements exist. " he countered.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his legs, dragging him toward the doorway.

" W-Wait! No! I'm going to the room! " he shouted, clawing at the doorframe in sheer panic. His fingers tightened their grip with a strength fueled by desperation. With one last burst of effort, he twisted free and scrambled back inside, slamming the door behind him.

Damn...

If Idia had one weakness, it was his love for instant noodles. Every night, long after you had gone to bed, you would hear the soft creak of his door, the shuffle of slippered feet, and the rustle of plastic as he rummaged through the kitchen.

One night, you decided to catch him in the act. You waited in the dark, listening to the familiar sound of the microwave beeping. The second he tore open the lid, you flipped on the lights.

" Aha! "

Idia flinched, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. " y/n—! "

Before he could react, you snatched the noodles from his hands.

" Don't take it! " he wailed, immediately lunging forward and wrapping his arms around your leg like a child throwing a tantrum.

" You need to eat real food, Idia. " you chided, lifting the noodles out of his reach.

" These are real food! "

" You need vegetables. Protein. Not just sodium and regret. "

He clung to your leg with the strength of a desperate man, burying his face into your knee. " Please, I'll die without it! "

" You won't. " you deadpanned.

He groaned dramatically but eventually let go, shuffling back to his room in defeat. You placed the noodles back in the pantry, shaking your head.

This boy was hopeless..

As the years passed, Idia’s attachment to you deepened. He was still a recluse, still reluctant to leave his room, but he always kept tabs on you. Whether it was through cameras he secretly installed around the apartment or through hacked security feeds, he always knew where you were.

It was subtle at first—offhanded comments about what you were doing, even when he wasn’t in the room. But then, he started interfering.

" y/n, you shouldn’t go to the convenience store today. " he said one morning, not looking up from his laptop.

" Why not? "

" There’s a…um, 73% chance of encountering creeps today. Just stay home. "

You narrowed your eyes. " How do you even know that? "

" Instincts. " he said quickly, hiding his screen.

It was creepy, but you figured he just worried about you. After all, he didn’t have much experience socializing.

If only you had realized sooner.

One day, Idia’s behavior became noticeably strange. He stopped gaming as much. He barely spoke. He didn’t even attempt to sneak out for noodles. He just…watched you.

" Idia, are you feeling okay? " you asked, peeking into his room.

He sat at his desk, unmoving, his golden eyes flickering with unreadable emotions. He didn’t respond immediately.

Finally, he murmured, " I had a nightmare. "

" What kind of nightmare? " you asked gently, stepping closer.

" One where you left me. " he whispered. " Where you disappeared. And I couldn’t bring you back. "

You sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. " Idia, that’s not going to happen. "

He let out a bitter laugh. " You say that, but humans are unpredictable. Reality is unfair. If I could just…keep you here forever… "

Something in his voice sent a chill down your spine.

" Idia… "

His fingers twitched. " I found a way to make sure you never leave. "

One night, you woke up with a splitting headache, your body feeling heavy and unresponsive. The room around you was unfamiliar—cold, metallic, filled with blinking screens. A monitor in front of you flickered to life, revealing Idia’s face.

" Ah…You’re awake. " he murmured, his golden eyes glowing softly.

" Idia…? What’s going on? "

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. " Okay, so, um. Don’t be mad. But I kinda…uploaded your consciousness into a digital simulation. "

Your blood ran cold. " You what...? "

" You kept trying to leave, y/n. " he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. " I couldn’t risk it. So I made sure you’d always be here. With me. "

You struggled, but your body wouldn’t move.

" Don’t worry. " he continued, his tone almost soothing. " I made it nice. Just like our home. You won’t even notice the difference after a while. "

Panic surged through you. " Idia, this isn’t right! You can’t— "

" But I can. " he interrupted. " And I did. "

The screen flickered, distorting his face into static. " You’re mine now, y/n. Forever. "

And just like that, the simulation closed in around you. A perfect, digital world where you would never escape. Where Idia would always be watching.

Smiling.

Waiting.

Loving you in the only way he knew how.

[forsaken-headcanons]

Okay, 2am rambling time. I've been up thinking about the new Cupcakes skin and came up with a fucked up storyline for it. So here goes:

(FOOD MENTION AND MAYBE MORBID DEATH TW!!!)

Before the rounds started, one of the killers gave c00lkidd a little too much candy than the amount that he can handle and it gets him so hyper to the point he is going on a manic killing spree. The survivors are just being taken down one by one by this child who has too much sugar in his brain to process how messed up in the head he's going with these kills.

Noob wandered off trying to find a machine? They're the first one to go. All items and gear are taken away from them. No one knows what happened to them, but they knew they were long gone when they heard them scream in the distance.

Two Time gets his second life? Before they could run away, he quickly grabs them by the wings and tail and just snatches them, leaving them in the ground.

Chance is about to get a third charge? Boom. His head is stuffed in a cake. c00lkidd grabs their gun and uses that against the gambler.

Builderman and Shedletsky are trying to take him down after seeing the previous deaths? He's stuffing their faces with the food and using Builderman's hammer to finish them off.

Elliot about to heal a heavily injured and barely living Shed? c00lkidd grabs him and fills his mouth with pizza. He looks hungry, after all!

007n7 and Guest are left. Guest watched them die. Survivor's Guilt is weighing on him like a truck, and he has to keep n7 safe. The kid is running towards them faster than ever before, a manic smile on his face. Guest grabs n7 and tries to look for the last generator to make the round finish quickly.

Until he is shoved away.

Guest turned his head, trying to reach out to the retired hacker but it's too late. c00lkidd is dragging him away. Where exactly? Who knows. But Guest knew he wasn't going to be alive for long. He looked up, having been thrown to the ground by n7 and notices the last generator needed. He quickly repairs it, hands shaking as he tried to connect the wires. ("Keep going, damn it! You've seen them get killed before. This isn't new!")

The round ends. They all revive. Everyone is trying to mentally recover from the deaths they had just experienced, since it was probably a slow and painful one.

Then next round starts. Guest has to make sure everyone is on his sight, since the killer is c00lkidd again.

Chance walks up to Elliot and asks for a pizza but once the other turns around, he starts to realize... that's not him.

the pizza minions are replaced by their own corpses.

~ 💙🖤 anon

That is morbid. Wow. Written very well though.