homelander | Imagine being the only person whose opinion truly matters to him.
The world worships Homelander. Crowds chant his name, cameras flash, and entire cities breathe easier just knowing he’s watching from the sky. He smiles for them, waves for them, saves them.
But none of it ever feels like enough.
Not unless you’re watching.
Imagine standing in a quiet room high above the city, the distant hum of traffic far below. He’s just returned from another flawless rescue—cape still fluttering slightly, uniform untouched, eyes searching.
Not for danger.
For you.
“Did you see it?” he asks, voice carefully controlled, almost hopeful. “I stopped the plane from crashing. Not a single casualty.”
You hesitate. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe the words don’t come quickly enough. Maybe you simply don’t react the way he expects.
And the change in him is immediate.
The air grows heavy, charged with something unspoken. His smile falters, just for a second, before slipping away entirely. The city lights flicker across his face as disappointment settles in, fragile and terrifying in equal measure.
Imagine the most powerful man in the world stepping closer, uncertainty creeping into his posture.
Then, slowly, he kneels.
Not out of humility.
Out of reverence.
His gloved hands hover near you, as if afraid to touch without permission. When he finally looks up, his expression is raw—eyes shining with unshed tears, desperation barely contained beneath the surface.
“Tell me I’m good,” he whispers, voice trembling with need. “Please.”
The plea hangs in the air, fragile and suffocating.
Because you know he doesn’t just want praise—he needs it. Your approval is the axis on which his entire world spins. Without it, the adoration of millions means nothing.
Imagine him resting his forehead lightly against your hand, seeking comfort like something lost and wounded, despite the unimaginable power he holds.
“I’ll do anything to deserve it,” he murmurs. “Anything you want. Just… don’t look at me like I’ve failed.”
And in that moment, it becomes terrifyingly clear:
Summary: The Glade boys keep getting rejected by you—leader of the ultra-organized girls’ camp—until they send Minho, who surprisingly wins you over, leaving everyone stunned and teasing him relentlessly as he becomes their unofficial envoy.
Minho x leader!reader
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There were rules in the Glade—unwritten ones, sure, but no less important than not going into the Maze after dark or respecting the Keepers. And one of the most ironclad rules, known to every boy after only a week of being here, was this:
Don’t mess with the girls’ camp.
They were organized, terrifyingly competent, and built like a well-oiled machine. Their gardens bloomed. Their cookfires never smoked. They kept order like some kind of military unit—and leading them was her.
You.
You weren’t cruel, but you weren’t friendly either. You had rules. You enforced them. You did not deal with whining, excuses, or disorganized shuckfaces who thought charm could get them out of a favor.
Which is why, when the boys ran low on clean bandages, Alby gathered a small delegation and declared, “We’re going to ask the girls.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Newt groaned, rubbing his temple. “Bloody hell, not this again.”
“They’re the only ones who sew,” Alby insisted. “And we need bandages.”
“They’re not gonna give you anything,” Gally muttered from his perch on a crate. “Last time you went, she told you to eat grass.”
Alby scowled. “That was a joke.”
“She didn’t smile when she said it, man.”
“I say we send Winston,” Zart chimed in.
“Why me?” Winston blinked. “I still got a black eye from the last time.”
Newt, always the peacekeeper, raised his hands. “Look, let’s not be dramatic. Just go, ask nicely. No dumb jokes. No flirting. Just respect.”
They all looked at Alby.
He stood taller. “I’ll try again. Properly.”
Attempt #1: Alby.
Rejected in 34 seconds.
He came back with his pride in pieces.
“What happened?” Frypan asked, eyes wide.
“She looked me dead in the eyes,” Alby muttered, “and said: ‘Being in charge doesn’t mean you get what you want. It means you do what’s right. Learn that.’ Then she handed me a stick and told me to whittle my own damn bandages.”
Gally burst out laughing. “She gave you homework.”
Alby scowled. “She’s scary.”
Attempt #2: Gally.
Rejected in 18 seconds.
He returned in a rage.
“Didn’t even let me speak!” he shouted. “I walked up, and she turned around, crossed her arms, and said, ‘No.’ No. Just that. Didn’t ask what I wanted. Didn’t care.”
“She read your soul,” Newt muttered.
“She judged my aura!”
Attempt #3: Newt.
Rejected politely, but firmly, in 53 seconds.
“She smiled at me,” he admitted, sitting down beside Alby. “But not like… friendly. More like I was a kid holding a toy sword.”
Frypan leaned in. “So she called you cute and weak?”
“She asked if I was lost.”
Alby snorted. “We’re gonna die without bandages.”
Minho, quiet until now, finally looked up from where he was sharpening a knife. “You guys are hopeless.”
They all turned to him.
“No way,” Winston said. “You wouldn’t.”
Minho smirked. “You’ve all gone in like beggars. You need tact.”
Newt leaned forward. “You think she’ll listen to you?”
“I think,” Minho said, standing, “you’ve been sending the wrong people.”
Attempt #4: Minho.
From a safe distance, the boys watched as he crossed the Glade. You were kneeling in the garden, sleeves rolled up, tending to something in the soil.
Minho crouched beside you, said something they couldn’t hear.
You looked up. Expression unreadable. The boys held their breath.
And then—
You nodded.
Minho smiled.
You stood, dusted off your hands, and walked into the supply tent. A minute later, you came back and handed him a neat stack of rolled white fabric—bandages. Real ones. Clean ones. Better than anything they had.
Minho waved once, cool and easy, and walked back like he hadn’t just done the impossible.
The boys lost it.
“No way!”
“She said yes?!”
“Did she touch your hand?”
“What did you say to her?!”
Minho grinned as he dropped the bandages onto the crate. “I asked nicely.”
Alby stared at him like he’d grown wings. “No. You did something. Witchcraft.”
Minho shrugged, casually stretching. “Maybe she likes me.”
They all froze.
Newt blinked. “Wait. What?”
Gally leaned in. “Hold up. You think she likes you?”
Minho’s smug smile didn’t falter. “Did she give you bandages?”
And just like that, a new Glade protocol was born.
From that day forward, there was one rule for requesting help from the girls:
Send Minho.
Burned rations? Minho asked for vegetables.
Broken tools? Minho fetched replacements.
They even made him a clipboard once as a joke. He used it seriously for two days. You didn't laugh—you helped him inventory.
The boys watched in stunned amazement every time.
“She gave him salt,” Frypan whispered once, horrified. “I’ve been cooking without flavor for months.”
“I think she gave him sugar last week,” Winston murmured. “She’s never even said my name.”
They held secret meetings about it, like confused scientists studying a phenomenon.
“She acts totally different when he’s around,” Newt said one night by the fire. “Like, not mean. Still scary, yeah, but like… warm scary.”
“She smirks at him,” Gally added.
“She laughs at his jokes,” Alby muttered. “She told me I was wasting oxygen.”
Minho just sipped water from a clean canteen—you’d probably given him that too—and said, “What can I say? I’m charming.”
The final confirmation came two weeks later.
The boys needed fabric again—this time for blankets. But Minho was injured, twisted ankle from a Maze run. He was benched.
“We have to ask without him,” Winston said grimly.
They drew straws.
Newt lost.
He walked over slowly, holding the request list like a bomb. You were seated at the table in your camp, writing in a notebook. Elara — your second in command — sat beside you, watching with an amused smirk.
You didn’t even look up when Newt approached.
“Minho’s hurt,” he began. “So I came to—”
“No.”
He blinked. “I haven’t even asked—”
“No.”
“…Right.”
He walked back like a defeated soldier.
The boys stared.
“I told you,” Gally said, pointing. “She doesn’t even listen to us.”
“She’s got a forcefield,” Alby muttered. “Only Minho gets through.”
They all turned to him.
Minho, icing his ankle, just raised his brows. “So what I’m hearing is… you need me again.”
It became routine.
You never smiled at Gally. Never gave Alby more than two-word replies. Newt earned a nod now and then. But with Minho?
You’d roll your eyes at his jokes, sure—but you didn’t walk away.
You didn’t reject him.
Sometimes, the boys caught you lingering after he left. Watching him walk back. Once, Newt swore he saw you tuck your hair behind your ear after he winked.
It became a joke. A running gag.
“Send Minho.”
“Minho’s our ambassador now.”
“Our princess only bends the knee for him.”
Minho took it all with a smirk. But sometimes—just sometimes—he looked toward your camp with something quieter in his eyes. Something none of the boys dared tease.
Because beneath the smug grins and teasing bets… there was a feeling. One they couldn’t name, but all of them recognized:
You liked him.
And maybe—just maybe—he liked you too.
One night, around the fire, they couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“So,” Frypan said, grinning, “when’s the wedding?”
Minho didn’t even flinch. “She hasn’t proposed yet.”
Alby snorted. “If she did, you’d say yes in two seconds.”
“Two? Please. Half a second.”
“You know she never even talks to the rest of us, right?” Winston asked.
“She once told me my voice gave her a headache,” Gally grumbled.
Minho leaned back on his hands, eyes drifting toward your camp, where you were organizing storage with Elara under a torchlight.
“She’s not cold,” he said. “She’s focused. That’s not a crime.”
Newt hummed. “Focused, yeah. But you bring out something else in her.”
“Softness,” Frypan added.
“Warmth,” Winston agreed.
“Ladle-related mercy,” Gally muttered.
They all looked at Minho.
He shrugged. “Guess I’m special.”
Newt nudged him. “Or maybe you just make her feel safe.”
That quieted them. A little too real.
Minho didn’t respond right away. He just kept looking at you.
“She makes me feel safe too,” he said finally, voice soft.
What If: You were Shingen and Shintaro's older sister
Main Series Title/AU: My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character
<<read the synopsis and content warnings first>>
featuring: Shingen and Shintaro Yamazaki, Gapryong Kim
“We shouldn’t be here, Shingen!”
“If you’re too scared then you can go back but I wanna see the ghost.”
“I’m not scared and there is no ghost.”
“Well then, how do you explain the rumors? The maids said they always hear footsteps at night when the place should be empty.”
“They’re just rumors, probably something one person came up with to entertain themselves.”
“If it’s a rumor then how come you’re clinging to me like a baby?”
“I’m not—ah, sh!”
“Huh?”
“Look!”
The door to the kitchen was slightly ajar, a stream of light peeking through the crack.
The two brothers crept forward in sync. When they reached the door, they looked at each other, silently nodded, then pushed open the door.
A figure draped in white stood by the stove.
Shingen screamed, “Ghost!”
The ghost almost dropped the pan in its hands. “Aaah!”
“Aaaah!”
Shintaro grabbed his brother by the shoulders. “Calm down! It’s not a ghost! Just an intruder.”
“I’m not an intruder, I live here,” you gasped out once you calmed down. “You’re the ones who snuck in here.”
“This is our house!” Shingen bit back.
“Well, I’ve never seen either of you here and I’ve lived here since I was a baby.”
“Yeah? Well—”
“Wait,” Shintaro said, holding back Shingen from shouting again, then he whispered something into his brother’s ear, who promptly recoiled at his words.
“No way! That’s just a rumor!”
“Think about it, there’s no other explanation, is there? None of the maids would be foolish enough to break the rules like this.”
“You know, for a couple of ‘young masters,’ you’re very rude. Your elder sister is standing right in front of you and you’re mumbling to each other, ignoring her.”
They turned to you in unison, hackles raised like two twin pups.
You laughed. “Judging by the looks on your faces, you already guessed it.”
“But the midwife said that we don’t have any other siblings—”
“—they told us that everyone else was taken care of.”
“I guess I slipped through the cracks.” You shrugged and placed your attention back to the stove. “Or maybe they didn’t see me as a threat.”
The boys exchanged glances and you waved them over.
“If you’re going to stay then might as well join me for dinner.”
"It's midnight."
"Clearly.”
"Mother says you'll gain weight when you eat after bedtime."
"She's not wrong, but if there’s any time not to worry about weight gain, it’s during one’s youth.”
“...you sound like an old man.”
“I’ll pinch you, brat.”
Shingen had lowered his guard way too quickly and leaned over your pan. “What're you cooking?”
“Caramelized Spam and eggs. They go great with leftover rice.”[1]
“What's a Spam?”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not sh-shitting you!”
“Right, sorry.” You stifled your laughter and gestured for them to sit at the kitchen island.
Shingen moved first, but Shintaro held onto his brother’s arm.
“Afraid it’s poisoned?” you asked, grabbing two more bowls from the cupboard. “Don’t worry, young master, I value my life.”
You scooped cold rice into three bowls, set one down for each person, then went to plate the Spam and eggs on one big dish.
You gave them each a spoon and then took a seat across from them. “Bon appetite.”
Not bothering to wait for them, you dug in, enjoying the hot meat and eggs with the cold rice.
Shingen picked up his spoon and poked at his bowl. “I’ve never seen brown rice like this before.”
“Brown rice? Oh, that. That’s okoge.[2] You can’t get that stuff with fancy rice cookers, unless you’re exceptionally bad at cooking.”
You then paused. Shintaro still appeared skeptical, but Shingen was drooling.
“If you don’t want them then hand the bowls over—”
“No! I wannit!” Shingen shoved a spoonful into his mouth and coughed.
“Shingen!”
You pushed your cup of barley tea towards him.
Shingen gulped down the tea in one go before turning to his brother. “It’s good!”
Shingen resumed eating, forgetting his etiquette lessons entirely as he devoured the dish like a starved child.
You raised an eyebrow at Shintaro, who was sneaking jealous glances at his brother.
“If you don’t want it then—”
“No! I’ll try it!” It was scary how much he copied his twin’s actions, choking and coughing until you poured him some tea.
“Well?”
He gave you a flustered, satisfied smile. “It’s delicious!”
You grinned. “Right?”
They finished their share in seconds and proceeded to drool at your mostly untouched bowl. You were so amused that you forgot about eating.
With a defeated sigh, you pushed your dinner towards them.
They raised their heads sheepishly,as if to ask, “Are you sure?”
Chuckling, you plopped your chin onto your knuckles. “Go ahead.”
This was supposed to be your first meal this week, but what the heck, you still had some instant noodles stashed in your room.
It was a dreadfully beautiful summer day. The sky was blue without a trace of rain and Shingen Yamazaki chose to appreciate it through a closed window, from the comfort of his room. Years ago, on days just like this one, he would have been outside, dragging Shintaro with him, to draw the view on cheap paper with even cheaper crayons as they sipped lemonade with their sister.
But such lovely days were a distant dream now. Summer, winter, fall, spring, sunny, rainy—they all melted into one long, treacherous moment that never seemed to end.
He could hear footsteps approach his quarters. He could see the familiar silhouettes behind the paper screen.
“Good morning, Leader.” It was Shintaro. “May we come in?”
“...”
Shintaro’s silhouette turned to the men behind him. “Leave us. I would like to speak with the Leader alone.”
“Yes, sir!” They bowed and scurried away.
Shingen remained silent even as his twin stepped inside. His only reaction was a gentle rub of acknowledgement on the dog that sauntered over.
“You can’t keep running away from your duties like this. Father’s going to have a cow and terrify the whole house again.”
“...Shintaro, have we received any letters?”
“No.”
“You think she’s dead.”
“It’s been over six years. If nee-sama is alive then perhaps she just doesn’t want to speak with us anymore.”
“Nee-chan’s not like that.”
“No, but let’s be realistic. A lot can happen in six years. Maybe she has a new family.”
“Don’t be absurd. No man is worthy enough to marry nee-chan.”
“I agree, but more importantly, Shingen—”
“What?”
“Aren’t you embarrassed calling her ‘nee-chan’?”[3]
“...Shintaro.”
“Yes?”
“Get out.”
“Noona~ Are you free later?”
You stuck the bill on Gapryong Kim’s forehead and didn’t bother giving him a reply.
You smiled at Baekho Kwon[4], who sat right across from him. Piles of dishes framing his face. “Will that be all?”
“Ah, yes, I’m full. Thank you, noona.”
“Sure thing.” You didn’t spare Gapryong a glance before checking in on the other customers. He kept staring at you though, intentions clear as day to everybody else.
“Boss, why do you keep hitting on her? You told me that men shouldn’t be too persistent.”
“Tsk, tsk, you’re still too naive. Noona likes me.”
“I’m sure she does, but…” She doesn’t want to date you… “You have other ladies, don’t you?”
“Noona’s different, Baekho. One day, you’ll meet someone who’s like her—someone for you, and you’ll understand why I haven’t given up.”
***
You finished refilling glasses and informed the chef and owner of all the new orders.
“Thanks, kid. Minseon[5] and I can handle things from here.”
“Are you sure?”
As if on cue, Minseon walked over with a tray of dirty dishes. “We’ll be fine. You still have your shift at the call center, right? You don’t want to be late.”
“It’s already late,” the owner stated, pointing at the night sky. “I know, get Gapryong to take you there.”
You and Minseon shared an exasperated smile.
“Dad, stop setting them up. She’s not interested in dating or marriage, especially not with that thug.”
“Bah! He’s tall, reasonably good-looking, and with that body of his he can work anywhere so you don’t have to worry about money ever again. What don’t you like about him?”
“I think of him more like…a little brother. And he’s a playboy,” you answered.
“Exactly. Just last night, one of his girlfriends found out about his other girls and slapped him in front of everyone. It was pretty funny.”
The man waved his arms.
“You young women these days have such high standards. You’ll end up as old maids at this point.”
Minseon sighed, “That’s enough, dad.”
“Right, right, right. Go before you miss the train—oh, and take this lunchbox with you. I packed some boiled eggs for you to snack on.”
“I appreciate it, thanks, boss.” You bowed lightly. “See you both tomorrow.”
As you stepped outside the cafeteria, you sensed familiar footsteps right behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Gapryong.
“You should’ve called me.”
“You always come even when I don’t so why bother?”
“I can’t argue with that.” Gapryong checked his watch. “It’s already nine p.m.”
“So it is.”
“You’re off to that call center again?”
“Yeah. Night shift.”
“What on Earth are they thinking, employing women this late?”
“Hey, don’t talk like that. I’m grateful they didn’t fire me.”
“What time do you finish?”
“Six a.m. It’ll be daylight then so you don’t have to pick me up.”
“No way. There are lots of pervs even at that hour.”
You shook your head. “Do what you want.”
“...”
“...”
“Hey, noona.”
“What is it?”
“Why are you working so hard? I mean, I know you like money, but what exactly are you saving up for?”
You glanced up at the moon. “I’m not sure, really.”
“...”
“I guess I just don’t enjoy being left alone in the silence. Working keeps me busy. By the time I’m done, I’m so exhausted that there is no space in my mind for worrying. I can sleep in peace.”
“...what will you do when you finally get your memories back?”
“I’m not sure.” You gave him a small, playful smile. “But at least I’ll have some extra cash by then.”
[1] Whenever I write about food in my fics, it's because I've been craving that specific dish. Alas, I'm on a diet so I can't eat them right now sdflsdf
[2] Okoge. Japanese, literally "burnt rice." Apparently, it's also slang for a woman who hangs out with gay men, i.e. a fag hag.
In the Philippines, we call it "tutong" and because I only eat instant dry rice for weight loss, I haven't had tutong in MONTHS. ദ്ദി╥ ᴗ ╥)
"The more you know aaand shooting star."
[3] For those who might not get the joke, in Japan, the honorific "-chan" is seen as very cutesy and is primarily used by children and women. Reminder that Gun (in the main AU) uses "Nee-san" while Shintaro here uses "Nee-sama." Seeing as how Shingen is Shingen (y'know, tall, muscle-bound and terrifying yakuza boss) using "-chan" when referring to his older sister seems silly now that he's an adult. (Also, disclaimer, I'm not fluent in Japanese, I'm just using what little knowledge I have based on the many Japanese media I've consumed.)
[4] Baekho Kwon: Jerry Kwon's father.
[5] Minseon Kang: Jake Kim's mother.
Author's Note: I may have to dedicate separate masterlists for these branch timelines because I'm scared of overloading the MBBITSC masterlist.
she confesses when she's drunk but doesn't remember it the next morning ᯓ★
how one piece men would react when she confesses while being drunk but forgets about it the next morning
luffy , zoro , sanji , law
fluff
MONKEY D. LUFFY ── .✦
The music was loud. Too loud. The kind that made the deck feel like it was swaying even though the sea was calm.
She was laughing, cheeks warm, arms wrapped tightly around Monkey D. Luffy as they clumsily danced in the middle of the celebration. She was completely drunk.
“This is fun!” she declared, spinning them both before losing balance and pressing herself closer instead. “You’re really fun, y’know that?”
“Hehe! I know!” Luffy said proudly, arms steady around her so she wouldn’t fall.
She tilted her head up, eyes glassy but bright, happiness spilling out of her like it couldn’t be contained. “Luffy,” she said, suddenly very serious. Too serious.
He hummed. “Yeah?”
“I like you,” she whispered. Then, softer. “No… I love you.”
His brain stopped.
Before he could even ask what that meant, her grip loosened. She slumped forward, forehead hitting his chest as she knocked out cold.
“Hey- HEY!” Luffy yelped, panicking for exactly three seconds before helping her up easily. “She fell asleep!”
The crew laughed. Someone teased. Someone else carried on drinking.
But Luffy didn’t laugh.
The next morning, she woke up with a pounding headache and absolutely no memory of the night before.
Meanwhile, Luffy sat on the deck with his arms crossed, cheeks puffed out, staring into the horizon.
“You okay, Luffy?” Usopp asked.
“She said something,” Luffy muttered.
“What kinda something?”
“…A really important something.”
Later, she approached him nervously, bowing a little. “I heard I got really drunk last night. I’m sorry if I said anything weird.”
Luffy snapped his head toward her. “You don’t remember?”
She blinked. “Remember what?”
His pout deepened, lips sticking out so far it was almost impressive. He turned away with a huff. “Nothing’.”
She stared at his back for a second, panic slowly creeping in.
“Nothing?” she repeated. “You don’t pout like that over nothing.”
“I do,” Luffy said immediately.
“No you don’t.”
“Yes I do.”
She squinted. “…You’re doing it right now.”
His shoulders hunched defensively. “I’m just sitting!”
“With your arms crossed and your face doing that thing,” she said, poking his cheek without thinking.
He recoiled like she’d committed a crime. “HEY! Don’t poke me!”
“Then stop acting weird!” she huffed.
Luffy turned just enough to glance at her, cheeks still puffed. “You gotta remember on your own.”
“That’s not fair!”
“It is fair,” he insisted. “You said it. So you gotta remember it.”
She groaned and dropped down beside him, hugging her knees. “I don’t even remember going to sleep.”
“You slept good,” he said quietly.
“…You watched me sleep, didn’t you.”
“Only a little!”
She stared at him and sighed, then softened, bumping her shoulder against his. “Okay. Hypothetically. If I did say something weird… was it bad?”
Luffy shook his head immediately. “Nope.”
“Embarrassing?”
He shrugged. “Kinda.”
Her face burned. “Oh no.”
“But!” he added quickly, leaning closer, voice dropping like it was a secret treasure map. “It made me really happy.”
She blinked. “It did?”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “So I’m not giving it back.”
“Giving what back?”
“My memory of it,” he said, poking her forehead this time. “It’s mine now.”
She stared at him, heart doing something stupid in her chest. “…You’re impossible.”
He beamed. “I know!”
RORONOA ZORO ── .✦
The party was loud behind them. Laughter, music, Usopp yelling about something exaggerated. None of it reached the quiet corner of the deck where she sat beside Roronoa Zoro, legs dangling over the edge, a bottle loosely held in her hand.
Zoro drank in silence, as always. Comfortable. Solid. Like the noise of the world couldn’t touch him if he didn’t want it to.
She leaned back on her palms, swaying slightly. “You’re really easy to sit with,” she said suddenly.
Zoro grunted. “You’re drunk.”
“Yeah,” she agreed cheerfully. Then she sucked in a deep breath, stood up far too fast, and-
“I LIKE ZORO A LOT!!!”
The entire deck went silent.
Sanji dropped a cup. Usopp choked.
Zoro’s eyes widened just a fraction.
She swayed, blinked once, and promptly collapsed.
Zoro caught her without thinking, arms locking around her before she could even hit the floor.
“…Tch,” he muttered, jaw tight.
The next morning was hell.
She woke up cheerful, slightly hungover, and completely unaware that she had just traumatized half the crew.
Zoro, meanwhile, avoided her like she was a cursed sword.
He changed training spots. Left rooms the moment she entered. Took naps in places she didn’t even know existed.
“Why is he acting like that?” she whispered later, genuinely confused.
Nami pinched the bridge of her nose. Robin smiled far too knowingly.
“You screamed your feelings at him,” Nami said flatly.
“…I did what?”
By the time she found Zoro, her face was on fire.
He was leaning against the railing, arms crossed, staring out at the sea like it personally owed him money.
“Zoro,” she said, cornering him before he could escape again.
He stiffened. “…What.”
She took a breath. “I’m sorry for whatever I said. If I made you uncomfortable.”
Silence.
“You could’ve just told me you don’t like me,” she added quietly. “You didn’t have to avoid me.”
He finally looked at her.
And gods, the intensity in his eye made her want to sink into the deck.
“Tch,” he clicked his tongue. “I never said I didn’t like you.”
Her heart skipped. “Then why are you avoiding me?”
“…Because,” he said slowly, “…I remember what you said.”
She froze.
“You don’t,” he continued, voice low. “And every time you smile at me like nothing happened, it pisses me off.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “Guess I’ll have to say it again. This time sober.”
He huffed. “…Idiot.”
But he didn’t move away when she stayed.
VINSMOKE SANJI ── .✦
The kitchen smelled like spices and leftover celebration. Pots were stacked, the stove still warm from Sanji’s late-night cooking when the door slid open a little too hard.
She stumbled in.
“Whoa-!” she mumbled, grabbing the counter for balance. “Why’s the floor moving?”
From the sink, Sanji froze mid-scrub.
“Y–Y/N-swan?!” He hastily rinsed his hands, water splashing everywhere as he rushed toward her. “Careful, careful! The kitchen is a dangerous place at night, especially for an angel such as-”
She giggled and promptly leaned into him, forehead resting against his chest.
“Sanji,” she said, dragging out his name playfully. “You’re always here.”
“Of course I am!” he said, heart already racing. “A cook must protect the heart of the ship- and you, my dear, are-”
She looked up at him suddenly, eyes bright and unfocused, then stood on her toes and pressed a soft, sloppy kiss to his cheek.
“I like you,” she whispered. “A lot.”
Steam practically exploded from his ears.
“K–K–KISS?!” His nose immediately betrayed him. “Y/N-swaaaan-!”
She smiled, completely satisfied, and promptly collapsed forward.
Sanji barely had time to catch her before the blood loss took him too.
They hit the floor together. She landed comfortably on top of him. Sanji passed out with stars in his eyes and a blissful smile on his face.
The next morning, she woke up confused.
Sanji woke up reborn.
Breakfast was heart-shaped. Coffee had foam art. He pulled out her chair, offered compliments every five seconds, wiped invisible dust from her shoulders, and declared her smile brighter than the sun at least twelve times before noon.
“…Did I hit my head?” she muttered to Nami.
“No,” Nami said flatly. “You hit him.”
Sanji appeared instantly at her side. “Y/N-swan, are you hungry? Thirsty? Emotionally fulfilled? I can fix all of it!”
She blinked. “…Why are you being like this?”
“Like what?” he asked, sparkles practically floating around him.
“So,” she said slowly, “…intense.”
He clasped his hands dramatically. “Last night, you bestowed upon me a treasure greater than the All Blue itself.”
She stared. “…I did?”
“Yes!” He leaned closer, voice soft, reverent. “Your confession. Your kiss. Your warmth as you slept upon my chest-”
Her face went scarlet.
“I-WHAT?!”
She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t even remember that!”
He smiled dreamily. “Then I shall simply worship you until you do.”
TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW ── .✦
There was a knock at his door. Three of them, uneven. Careless. “Doctor,” a voice sang. “Doctooor.”
Law paused mid-page, brow twitching.
Another knock.
“Doctor Doctor,” she called again, muffled by the wood. “There’s something wrong with me.”
He sighed, already knowing exactly what kind of night this was going to be. “You’re drunk,” he said flatly.
The door slid open anyway.
She leaned against the frame, smiling far too brightly, finger pointed at her chest like she’d discovered a grave medical emergency. “My heart’s missing.”
Law looked up slowly. “…It’s beating.”
“Nope,” she said, wagging her finger. “You took it.”
Silence.
“…Get out.”
She gasped dramatically. “See? Cold. Unprofessional. Horrible manners.”
She wandered in anyway, shoes discarded halfway, plopping herself down on his bed like it was her personal couch. Law stood there, arms crossed, watching the disaster unfold with the patience of a man who had seen war.
“You know,” she continued, words spilling easier now, “you’re really unfair.”
“Tch.”
“You’re smart. And calm. And scary,” she said fondly. “But also kind. And you look at everyone like you’re carrying the whole world on your back.”
He didn’t respond.
She smiled at him anyway.
“I like you,” she said softly. “The doctor. The captain. You.”
Her voice dipped, just a little. “I wish you’d look at me the way I look at you.”
Law’s fingers curled at his side.
Before he could say anything, her rambling slowed. She curled up on his bed, cheek pressed into his pillow.
“Heart’s tired,” she murmured. “Doctor’s fault…”
And then she was asleep.
Law stood there for a long moment.
He turned the lamp lower. Pulled a blanket over her without waking her. Then he left a glass of water, hangover medicine, and a neatly folded note on the side table.
The next morning, she woke with a pounding head and the faint scent of antiseptic and soap.
Her eyes landed on the note.
You were drunk.
You said some weird stuff.
Drink the water. Take the medicine.
We’ll talk when you’re sober.
She swallowed.
“…Oh no,” she whispered, heart racing all over again.
Somewhere outside the room, Law smirked.
She sat up slowly, clutching the blanket like it might explain what she’d done.
“Oh my god,” she muttered, dragging a hand down her face. “I told him everything didn't I? I actually told him everything.”
By the time she gathered the courage to leave the cabin, her heart was trying to beat its way out of her ribs.
She found him on deck, coat fluttering lightly in the wind, arms folded as he watched the sea like it was behaving suspiciously.
“Um,” she said.
He didn’t turn. “Head's hurting?”
“…Yes.”
“Toke the meds?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Silence stretched.
She shifted on her feet. “So. About last night.”
He glanced at her now, unreadable. “You remember it?”
She winced. “Bits.”
“You were being stupid,” he said calmly. “Annoyingly so.”
“That’s worse,” she groaned. “I’m really sorry if I crossed a line. I was drunk and rambling and doing wordplay and-”
“‘Doctor Doctor, you stole my heart,’” he recited flatly.
Her soul left her body.
She covered her face instantly. “PLEASE stop. I need to be thrown into the sea.”
A pause.
“…You fell asleep halfway through,” he added.
She peeked through her fingers. “You didn’t kick me out.”
“No.”
“You tucked me in.”
“…Yes.”
Her cheeks burned. “So you’re not mad?”
He exhaled slowly. “If I were mad, you wouldn’t be standing here.”
That… helped. A little.
She swallowed. “I meant what I said,” she admitted quietly. “Even if I said it badly.”
Law studied her for a moment, then clicked his tongue. “You said one thing wrong.”
Her heart dropped. “I did?”
“You said I never look at you the same way.”
He stepped closer, just enough that she had to tilt her head up.
“I do,” he said low. “I just don’t ramble about it.”
Her breath hitched. “…Oh.”
He turned back to the sea, ears faintly red beneath his hat. “Next time, tell me sober.”
She smiled despite herself, warmth spreading through her chest.
“Doctor,” she teased softly. “Something’s wrong with me.”
He sighed. “What now.”
“My heart’s still missing.”
A pause.
“…We’ll discuss treatment later,” he muttered.
She grinned.
author's note
I hope you enjoyed this <333 I will do a shanks , smoker , crocodile and lucci version too!!
If you’re at someone else’s house, enjoying a party, all you have to do is give him a look that tells him you’re bored or frustrated and need release before you go on a massacre. Lazily, he strolls to the nearest bathroom, unashamed to leave mid conversation or mid sentence. When you finally walk in some time later so as to not rouse suspicion, you find him inside, sitting on the lid of the toilet, jerking himself off so you can quickly slide down on his length and ride him to an easy release.
“Wait,” he mutters after, bringing your hips back to him. He slides his tongue through your puffy slit, scooping up his cum which oozes out of your cunt. “Need to clean you up, silly.”
Free use!Choso loves being used. It gives him purpose. It gets him up in the morning — figuratively and literally. He loves being woken up with your dripping cunt on his face, throbbing clit rubbed on the tip of his nose. Your juices filling his senses, dribbling inside his nose, sliding on his tongue and down his throat, is nothing short of euphoric.
“Mmm,” he moans, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs and fighting the urge to wrap around his cock (you get upset when he hasn’t asked for permission). “Thank you for choosing my face; you know I don’t like it when you deal with it yourself.”
Free use!Choso often actively waits for a sign. Sometimes he forces one himself. At dinner with your friends, he’ll be squirming in his seat, irritated that it’s taking so long and doing very little to hide it. He’ll openly grumble, “Can we go already? Christina won’t shut up about her boyfriend, Owen, and I don’t like either of them.”
“Choso,” you hiss. “Don’t be rude.”
He pushes away from the table and says, “I’ll be waiting in the backseat of the car. Please come soon so I can fuck you.”
Saying goodbye to a dinner you weren’t even enjoying, you come up with some shitty excuse to get out of there and angrily march over to the car. The door is yanked open and you’re about to tear him a new one, but the sight of his cock out, already hard, and leaking makes it hard to stay mad. You sigh, climbing inside. “You need table manners.”
“I’m polite enough when I eat you out,” he says, not remotely argumentative, simply factual.
Free use!Choso also responds to whistles, like a dog. As soon as you walk in, tired from work, you’ll whistle and he’ll appear almost out of thin air, ears perked up and tail wagging. He helps you shrug off your outer layers, sliding your shoes off and using that opportunity to sniff at your crotch.
“Oh I missed you,” he groans, showing you the wet mark on his sweatpants. “I missed you so much. Please use me, not your toys. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. Need your pretty pussy around me or I think I might die.”
Bounce on a cock, save a life, you suppose.
Was feeling a little burnt out so I needed a quick shot of free use choso
Because not only did you get the full reincarnation package—new life, new body, and parents who love you deeply—you were also dropped into a world that seems….fine. Suspiciously fine. No demon kings. No collapsing empires. No ominous prophecies whispered at birth. No magic….no foreshadowing?
Well.
Except for one thing.
You were reincarnated as a Filipino.
But hey, you’re rich. Your parents are rich—not corrupt politician rich like Sarah fucking Di*saya, but rich because your mommy and daddy who's mommies’ and daddies’ mommy and daddy worked grinded to ensure they’d leave a thick wealth for the next 10 generations (who tf wrote this? Basically you have great grandparents that worked their ass off). Also your mom adores you, your dad is present and emotionally available and both of them are far too cautious for another kid.
So you're an only child with generational wealth and zero pressure to “be the chosen one.” On top of that, you kept your memories from your past life, which means you’re technically smarter now. Not genius smart—but smart enough to recognize narrative patterns and red flags. Smart enough not to STRUGGLE in school.
And smart enough to be deeply, profoundly afraid.
Because you’ve read enough novels, watched enough anime, and consumed enough trashy isekai media to know one thing for certain: no author lets happiness last forever. Somewhere out there is a sick, sleep-deprived writer just itching to ruin your life for character development.
So you stay cautious. You enjoy the good days carefully, like they’re borrowed time. You watch your parents closely to ensure there is no tragic accident, the sudden illness, the “this will shape you into the protagonist” moment.
THANKFULLY nothing happens.
Years pass. Life remains warm. Normal. Almost boring. Boring is nice, it's good, it's safe.
Until your parents announce they’re moving to Japan.
That’s when you panic.
Because everyone knows that all “organic encounters,” all destiny-altering coincidences, and all “for-the-plot"” events only ever happen in Japan. Transfer students. Chance meetings at train stations. Being in the wrong alley at the wrong time. Parents dying to kickstart a villain or protagonist arc.
You try to stop them. You really do. You argue. You plead. You cite extremely questionable statistics based entirely on your logic.
They think you’re being dramatic—and cute.
They move anyway.
So now you’re here, in Japan, bracing for impact—convinced this is where everything ends. Or begins. Or gets horribly worse.
But maybe—maybe—you can cheat the system.
Maybe if you keep your head down.
Maybe if you stay quiet.
Maybe if you refuse to stand out.
You can survive as a side character.
A background extra in a perfectly vanilla shoujo anime.
No tragic backstory. No divine trials. No existential suffering beyond the usual.
Nothing more.
Nothing else.
Right?
a/n: This story contains mentions of Catholicism, the yn being Filipino for purely comedic purposes (it doesn't matter in later chapters), a lot of low-key offensive/dark jokes, depression, insecurities, irrational fear, the whole fic is mostly written in y/n's POV and mentions of suicide. But I swear on everything holy, this is a crack fic. Probably. And as always, yn would be as blank as possible aside from her personality.
Baker!Nanami who memorizes every face that walks through those swinging doors of his bakery, every order, every quirk, every morning routine—that is, until one morning in walks you. Baker!Nanami who - for the first time in his life - stutters through his practiced lines—“I-I’m what would you like and Nanami Kento today—no wait.” Your laughter quickly becomes his favorite song. Baker!Nanami who finds himself telling- practically begging you to come back the next day. And the day after. And the day after. And the day aft- in fact, why don’t you stay in his life forevermore?
Summary: Where you're a sophomore student, failing Organic Chem and need a tutor. Basically - I’ve read too many NerdGojo fics, and at the same time, couldn’t get the picture of Changsu in glasses out of my head. So… here we are…
Character & Fandom: Changsu Oh | Lookism
Word Count: 0.4K
Disclaimer: I do not own this fandom, or any characters in it, or any plot from it. It belongs to its creators. Also, a reminder that this is a work of PURE fiction, and that consent and safety should always be your priority.
Warnings: MDI [Minors Do NOT Interact], You must be at least older than 18 to read this, Ageless blogs will be blocked, Smut/NSFW, Changsu Oh is 21 here, Reader is at least the drinking age in Korea [19 years old], the two of them are in organic chemistry - I know nothing about organic chemistry, yandere changsu - cause it’s still Changsu, reader get’s baby trapped, tampering of birthcontrol, No use of ‘Y/N’ cause I’ve read enough Y/N fics to last me a life-time, Changsu Oh x Female Reader
Ageless Blogs Will Be Blocked
NerdChangsu who usually sits in the back, as he zones out the professor's stale voice. But starts to sit three rows behind you in Organic Chem, so he can watch the focused look on your face, as you try to keep up with the lecture. Eyes locked in on your oral fixation, as your pen always ends up between your teeth as you play around with it absentmindedly.
NerdChangsu who overhears you complain to your friend how you can’t afford to fail this class again, when you see the red-underlined 34% on your second midterm.
NerdChangsu who overhears your friend saying you should get a tutor and jumps out of his seat, fumbling as he volunteers. Causing both of you to sideeye him. You're about to walk away, completely dismissing him, until you see the 100 on his midterm, agreeing despite your friend’s suspicion.
NerdChangsu who agrees to only charge you $20 an hour, but never collects the payments.
NerdChangsu who meets you in the library every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, always in the evening when there is hardly anyone there.
NerdChangsu who freezes the first time you kiss him, squealing when you see the giant 83 on the Quiz you did last week.
NerdChangsu who you realize has a white streak in his hair for the first time, when you're making out with him in the library. You tug at his hair, drawing out a moan from him, as you pull him in deeper into the kiss.
NerdChangsu who buys you lunch, and likes to pretend like it’s a date, when you meet him at the cafe for an extra review session after a lab. Despite you refusing to label the relationship. In your mind, making out a couple times in the corner of the library does not make you a couple.
NerdChangsu who you insist isn’t your boyfriend, even when you ride him in the backseat of your car, wanting to turn his brain into mush the same way he did yours as you went on and on about alkanes, alkenes, and alkynes.
NerdChangsu who practically bends you in half when you let him top you. Folding you into a mating press, his large frame trapping you against the bed.
NerdChangsu whose glasses fog up as he bullies his cock into you, masking the steeled look of his eyes as he memorizes and catalogs every reaction and sound he draws from you.
NerdChangsu who surprises you when you see him without his large circular glasses one morning, shocked by how different he looks.
NerdChangsu who messes with your birth control as final exams approach, determined to keep this thing going.
NerdChangsu who acts surprised when you reach out to him 3 weeks into the new semester, nervously asking to meet up, because you have something big to tell him.
So… this was my first ever NSFW thing I’ve written. On top of that Changsu is such a new character, that I felt like it was hard to nail down his personality.
I feel like I didn’t really do him or this prompt justice, so I may rewrite this, after this Lookism arc is done. God, I just hope he doesn't die, cause that last panel with Chunhee was sketchy as hell.
Things were quite unusual more so because who exactly were these thugs? And why were there four of them in your house?
They all bowed to you, and well, it was only polite to return the gesture. It hadn’t exactly been Changsu’s plan to bring them home, but they were hungry and on top of that, incredibly curious, still dumbfounded by the fact that their hyung-nim was a dad.
“So these are your lackeys? Makes sense...you’re all so alike,” you remarked, your gaze roaming from one man to another.
Even though you weren’t an active fighter, somehow they still felt threatened under your stare. Was that disgust written on your face?
“Oh, sweetheart, these are my juniors. They work with me.” And the moment the word work escaped Changsu’s mouth, you shot him a dirty look.
“So, all the thugs under our roof. How nice,” you muttered. “Would it be alright to ask what you’d all like to eat and drink?”
None of them dared speak not when their own leader was standing there, already on thin ice. They remembered how the second Changsu received your call, he would drop everything and rush home without question.
“Anything will do. They’re not guests anyway they’re my men,” Changsu added.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. It was a non-negotiable topic, and usually one you avoided altogether. But seeing his subordinates in front of you, complete with their unmistakable thug looks, was overwhelming. And was that lipstick on this guy’s neck?
Still, things were as they were.
“I genuinely mean it. What would you like to eat and drink? Don’t hesitate,” you asked again, this time gently.
“Just feed them money,” Changsu muttered.
You smacked his arm.
He let out a fake pout and that was the first crack in their leader’s fearsome façade.
Their hyung pouting?
Before they could recover, a small voice rang out, calling you mom and Changsu dad.
Instantly, Changsu dropped to his knees, arms wide, as your daughter ran into them. He lifted her into the air, laughing, then hugged her close.
“These are your uncles. Say hi,” he told her.
She stared at them, wide-eyed and silent, and they all braced themselves, convinced she hated them. But then she smiled and waved.
The hardened mercenaries, men who could slice through enemies without hesitation, melted on the spot.
“Hyung… you’re really a father now?” they asked in unison.
“Well, what does it look like?” he replied dryly.
You took your daughter from his arms and held her close.
“My love, remember never become like them,” you said, kissing her forehead. Then you added, “Or like your dad.”
Changsu wilted instantly.
That was shock number three.
The final straw wasn’t dramatic. It was simple and painfully sweet.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you I was bringing guests today,” he said while preparing the dough.
You sautéed the vegetables, stirring slowly as little Chunhee clung to your legs.
“There’s no need to apologize. Guests are guests, after all,” you replied. “And they’re your juniors.”
“And besides,” he added softly, “Chunhee just got herself some uncles.”
You glared at him, lifted the knife, and pointed it in warning. He raised both hands in surrender, and you set it down with a huff.
“Some great uncles she got,” you muttered, lowering the flame.
“Uncles!” your daughter squealed, hearing the word.
You both smiled at her.
“The point is, if you trust them and are fine with them being her uncles, I guess there’s no harm,” you said. “They all look starving anyway. I’m pretty sure you work them to the bone. Feed them properly.” Growing bored of her parents’ conversation, Chunhee soon skitters away from the kitchen
“You have no idea how much I love you,” he murmured.
You smiled despite yourself.
Then you noticed his hands.
He was kneading the dough far too roughly, his thumb pressing and rolling in a way that was entirely inappropriate, his eyes locked on yours.
“Don’t even think about it,” you warned.
He stepped closer.
Then kissed your forehead.
“Not now, of course,” he whispered, “but later. I’m hungry too.”
You shoved him away, but the damage was done.
His juniors stood frozen, unable to believe they had just witnessed Changsu Oh—the White Crow, the King of Jeolla-do—being a soft, shameless husband.
“Those guys are pretty useful. They’ll help you too,” he added.
“I’ll see. Not that I want more killers around me,” you muttered.
Still, Changsu had been right. They were useful.
☘️
“Bye, uncles!” Chunhee waved as they dropped her home from playschool.
And it wasn’t just that.
They escorted her to friends’ houses, helped her study, took her to parks. They bought her Barbie kits, raced Hot Wheels with her, and indulged every tiny whim.
Until one day, Changsu caught them in the act.
“If you want money, go work in the fields instead of messing around with my daughter,” he snapped, feral rage burning in his eyes as he grabbed the nearest object.
You burst into laughter.
Because the so-called terrifying gangsters had been reduced to full-time babysitters.
And honestly?
It was the sweetest absurdity you had ever witnessed.
Play date!♡.ೃ࿐ - my fav Lookism men with crushing!
Happy Valentines! I'm not celebrating it bc I'm chronically single.. but yea the lookism x reader tag is starving imo. Lookism has me by the neck feel free to request guys..
I WILL make a 2nd part. I just need a warmup.
Ft. Daniel, Vasco, Jace, Jay, Vin Jin, Hudson.ᐟ⋆˚࿔
♡⋆˚࿔ If you got Daniel to be into you, you win. He's the biggest cutie. Honest to god, he's so shy about it it'd take a while for him to even consider doing anything about it. It's not that he thinks it isn't worth it, but if you don't want him back why would he even make a move if it's only gonna ruin things? Especially since his whole two-body situation could make everything into a big mess.. he's so conflicted... But when he sees you and he can feel his heart beating so hard it feels like it's trying to escape his chest and he can hear the angel choir singing in his ears, he knows he's gotta do something. Now, that whole crushing stage can go into two categories - big Daniel and little Daniel.
more under the cut!
Maybe he'll try to get you with his 'better' body, if it would seem you're more interested in him if he's like that. To be honest, he thinks that's probably his better bet. So you'll notice he's suddenly a lot nicer on top of already being kind in general, always asking you how your day's going or what you're doing after school. He's gonna try to hang around you more. Maybe he could come off s little clingy.. I don't know about gifts since he's a little broke same bro, but he's definitely gonna try to make your life easier. He'll help you study, he'll walk you home, he'll carry your stuff for you even if he doesn't need to. He's really gonna try to up that prince charming vibe.
Now, if you seem to be more into little Daniel, he's gonna be surprised. It's not to say he thinks you'd be superficial or something, but he's not really used to have someone into him like that if he's not in his big Daniel form. Especially if that's before his glow up. He's gonna be painfully shy in the beginning, and it would take him longer to try and make a move. But when he does he's genuinely so sweet. He sure you're really being genuine if you're kind to him even if he's far from conventionally attractive, so when he says something kind it really feels like he means it. He's so good at flirting if he's not trying.. To be fair, it's probably a slip up of what he's thinking, but hey it works in his favour. He's still gonna walk you home and help you study and all that, but he feels more relaxed somehow. After his glow up he seems more confident though, a bit more daring to show he's into you.
Now, no matter which body he's trying trough, most things are exactly the same. Like the whole helping thing, as mentioned in both sections. That, and no matter which version of him you get, he's so so shy. It's like watching a puppy that's unfamiliar with you be torn between hiding from fear and wanting to be around you so bad. He's torn between just letting things stay as they are and actually trying be be with you, not only because of his confidence but all that gang stuff. In the end, he's just human. It's like he's tense and then he melts into it. How could he not at least try? When you're so kind to him and trying to look after him, when you've shown just how good of a person you are? When he feels his chest feel like it's wrapped in a plastic bag, and when he feels that weird electric tingle and brushing his hand against yours? And how could you resist his big, shiny dark eyes anyway?
♡⋆˚࿔ Dude, Vasco is one of the best people in there. How come he's not more popular is a mystery to me. Be it for a friend, for a boyfriend or anything else, he gives it his all. He's so genuine it almost hurts, even if he's kind of a moron at times. Surprisingly, it won't take him a long time to get the fact he's crushing on you. He may not be the smartest but he knows what he wants, and he's in tune with his feelings. It's not a matter if he's into you or not, but if he thinks it's worth pursuing anything. He sticks to his morals, and if he feels like you won't fit into that he won't torture you and himself by even trying anything with you.
That being said, he's absolutely hopeless. He's a romantic, and if he thinks it could work he's gonna put in his all into you. And he's so honest about it too. It's not that he's particularly loud about it, but he'd never even try to hide it. The second he sees you it's like the first time he's seeing another person on this planet, his gaze is glued to you. It gets awkward at times, honestly. He won't always talk much, but he'd be happy to share his interests with you if it seems like you wanna know. It's so cute seeing him talk so animatedly about something like an action movie or an old superhero cartoon. On the flipside, he's a great listener too. He doesn't answer much, but rather he responds with a question that shows he's listening and he wants to know more. Seems like the type to write down what you like so he won't forget about it too. He's pretty open about everything, honestly. That, and he's so damn protective. It shouldn't be a surprise, given it's Vasco and we've seen so so many times throughout the manhwa that he's crazy protective over the people that are dear to him, but it's worth mentioning. You've got a guard dog at your side, a very obedient one.
♡⋆˚࿔ Jace barely has anything fanfics, you fake ass fans💔. He's such a cutie. He couldn't hide how much he's into you even if his life depended on it. You can see his pupils enlarge in real time the second he looks at you.. or you could've, if his eyes weren't so dark. Still, even if the pupil thing isn't so obvious the absolute adoration is. He knows the second he's hooked, because he can feel his heart actually skip a beat and then start beating twice as fast. It's enough of a whiplash to get him thinking. He's a great detective, but he's a bit lost on trying to figure out if you like him back or not..
That won't prevent him from trying his chance, though. He won't actively try anything for a while to figure out if you like him back as mentioned, but it's not like he's trying to hide it too much.. he just doesn't show it too much. That doesn't mean he'll stop you if you wanna do anything though. By all means, if you wanna play with his hair or the earrings on his ears go ahead, he won't stop you. He'll deny melting into it vehemently, but it's obvious. He'll help you if you seem to need help, and he'll hang around you if you'd let him. I mean, you just happened to run into him, so why not? It's not like he remembered that you go by the vending machine every third break, not at all.. he's down horrid, but it's gonna take him a bit to get used to it.
♡⋆˚࿔ You don't know how it happened, Jay doesn't know how it happened, the gods don't know how it happened.. but it happened. Jay definitely felt it happen. You suddenly have him hooked, and he's gonna act on it. Like, excuse me, but we saw him with Daniel. That guy has zero issues showing how much he wants you and what he's willing to do, but god forbid you actually approach him about it. He's gonna clam up. You'd have to ease him into it, but it's not gonna be too hard anyway.
Be prepared to have a billion bucks be blown on you for the most random things. He's gonna spoil you as much as you'd let him, and he won't back down. The money barely has any value to him, but if with it he can get you things that make you smile he won't stop himself. He's gonna try to match clothes and think he's so sneaky about it, even if it's absolutely clear. He'd also be over the moon if you get along with his dogs - they're like his kids. And honestly, they're so cute. On that note, he's gonna use the excuse of walking them to have you hang out with him. I mean, i don't know many people that would refuse to be around five of the cutest dogs on the planet. He's gonna try to be affectionate too. Fixing your hair, brushing something off your face, trying to hold hands.. yeah, he doesn't even try to hide it. You're gonna have to be the one to being up the 'being official' talk, though. He's ballsy, but nowhere that brave.
♡⋆˚࿔ Alexa, play "I'm not in love" by 10cc, please. No, seriously, which god came down to curse Vin Jin with that fat ass crush on you? Being into you feels torturous and horrid for him, and god forbid you talk to him in any capacity. Be it being his friend, an enemy, something in between.. then again, if you didn't talk with him this wouldn't have happened, so pick your poison. It's genuinely like pulling teeth with this guy. No, forget that - it's actually worse. He's so guarded and so skeptical and so deep into that nonchalant guy ahh shit, it's like some cheap kdrama.
For a good long while he's gonna be swinging between letting you feel real close and pushing you away. Or at least trying to. Matter of fact, he's gonna try to convince himself he doesn't even want you like that. Why would he? It's not like your laugh makes him smile like a moron, neither does he think about you when he's trying to write his shitty music.. yeah, definitely. It's just because you're so real with him, he likes the fact you're not bullshiting. That's it. It's not that he wants anything real.. until he does. He wants to be around you. He wants to seek you out, he wants your thoughts on his music, he wants to do all that corny couple stuff. Hell, he even feels like he could show you that freakish eye he's got and you won't flip out! It's gonna be a game of push and pull that stings the both of you until someone finally decides to take things into their own hands to get to the bottom of what's up, but that can only happen after he's finally honest with himself. So i hope you're patient, because it may just be worth the wait.
♡⋆˚࿔ Fine shyt Hudson.. why are you unpopular... it's like the evil tein of Vin Jin. Not because he's trying to be nonchalant about it, but because he's naturally so deadpan and blunt and nonchalant it's real hard for him to show you he wants you. First it's the challenge of him recognizing he's crushing on you. At first he's gonna be sure it's just some form of admiration, kind of similar to the way he views Taesoo. You're both very respectable people in his eyes, and you've both enriched his life and growth in some way or another. Then again, it's a bit weird how much he's catching himself staring at you. And noticing how you've done your hair that day, or the details in your clothes. He'd make a mental note if you seem to have any new jewellery too, or if you're wearing makeup. If you do wear makeup, maybe then you're wearing some new lipstick. That's why he's staring at them as you talk. Definitely.
Yeah, definitely. And he definitely feels how down bad he is at a random moment. He's walking to somewhere, thinking about something random, and then it suddenly hits him why he feels so off around you. And you know, he's a very determined man, very smart, he's gonna take his shot. But it won't be easy for him. Not because he doesn't want to, but because it's so foreign. He wants to tell you how gorgeous you look or that he noticed your new clothes, but all that comes out is "you look nice." Real good, bro. He's much more of an action type of guy. And he can be real smooth too. You could be walking down a busy street and he's gonna hold your hand with the idea of not losing you in the crows. That doesn't mean he's gonna let go once you get trough said crowd, though. Or putting his scarf on you because you said you're freezing. He really can be smooth, just not verbally. It's gonna take a while of his weird almost mixed messages until he can will himself into spilling it out, but he's gonna do it. He knows what he wants, after all.
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