Hello! I saw that you had heat waves in your area, we did as well, so I hope you made it ok! Hopefully it will be better now.
I know I already have a request (and I totally get it, I am content to wait for your writing however long necessary ;) ). But I wanted to ask if I can ask for some headcannons for OPLA Strawhats, please? If it's not a problem for you. I love your headcannons, you write them so heartfelt. Maybe about how they would handle the first sexy time with the reader?
Thank you so much for the lovely message and request! I was just thinking it had been too long since I wrote for the straw hats so it was perfect timing! 🤩💗
I've written some Headcanons for you here, thanks again for your super sweet message 🥰
Can you do Spinner (and whatever LOV or villains you want) with a teleporting quirk s/o? Like she can just teleport, and accidentally scares people by just randomly appearing next to them.
Thank you :3
Their S/O having a teleport quirk
A/n: Heyy thanks for the love and support. And I got boba the other day with my mom and apparently my cat did a back flip on the table or something and knocked every thing off the table besides my boba.
P. S sorry this took so long I have so many drafts since when I get a idea I just start a new one I think I have like 10 darts and the thing was I wrote this like in a day it just got buried under things
Paring:league of villans x s/o reader (seperate)
Summery:This has the league of villains and others, Tomura Shigaraki, dabi, Spinner, Rody
Contains:fluff;sfw
Tomura
Tomura got used to your teleporting surprisingly fast.
The first few times, he'd flinch.
Now?
Not even a little.
You'd suddenly appear beside him in the hideout
Poof.
Tomura barely looked up from his game.
“Oh. Hey.”
You smiled.
Without missing a beat, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down beside him.
“Listen to this,” he muttered. “That idiot online thinks this build actually works.”
Just like that, you were dragged into a ten-minute rant about his game.
Apparently, teleporting into the room wasn't nearly as important as hearing about the terrible player he had just matched with.
Spinner
Spinner never fully got used to your teleporting.
No matter how many times you appeared out of nowhere
Poof.
He'd do the tiniest flinch every single time.
Not a scream, not a jump.Just a little shoulder twitch.
“…Hey.”
“Sorry.” you say
“It’s fine.”
You started noticing it happened every time, even after months.
“One day you won't flinch,” you teased
Spinner rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“…What if I'm doing something embarrassing when you show up?”
You laughed
“So that's what you're worried about?”
“…Maybe.”
After that, you'd sometimes teleport in just to watch him do his tiny automatic flinch before pretending nothing happened.
It never stopped being funny.
Dabi
Dabi hated your teleporting.
Not because it scared him.
It didn't, it just annoyed him.
You'd suddenly appear beside him without warning.
Poof
Dabi sighed immediately.
“…Quit doing that.”
“What?”
“You're gonna catch me doing something.”
You blinked.
“Like what?” you said
“None of your business.”
From then on, every single time you teleported next to him, he'd click his tongue and mutter something rude like
“Tch. You got nothing better to do?”
“You're annoying.”
“Use a door for once.”
You'd just grin every time.
Eventually, Dabi started adding,
“…Seriously. Stop popping up behind me.”
Of course...You never did.
Rody
Rody Soul could never get used to your teleporting.
No matter how many times you did it
Poof.
He'd let out the tiniest,
“Eep—!”
Then immediately clear his throat like nothing had happened.
“…Hey.”
You stared at him.
“Did you just squeak?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You absolutely squeaked.”
“I absolutely didn't.”
You started teleporting beside him more often just to hear it.
Every,single, time.
Poof.
“Eep—!”
Rody froze, coughed into his fist, and smiled awkwardly.
Summary: Hongjoong has never been good with feelings or expressing himself; he's only ever wanted to convey it through music. So when he makes an unexpected friend in his repeat desk mate, proper and polite Park Seonghwa, he doesn't think the friendship will last.
Until it flourishes into something beyond his understanding and Hongjoong is faced with coming to terms with his feelings, working up the courage to confess, and then has to deal with the many oddballs life throws his way.
Summary: Childhood friends Seonghwa and Hongjoong have drifted apart over the last six years due to an arranged marriage to merge their syndicate families. Now, the two live separate lives, united only by the marriage certificate and wedding rings that Hongjoong doesn’t even wear anymore.
So, Kiss Me On This Cold December Night by thecyspicyfiend
Summary: They meet at night when Seonghwa locks up the studio. Hongjoong Kim catches him to beg for private dance lessons with the explanation that he wants to impress his wife this holiday, but there's no wedding ring to be seen.
They meet at the beginning of December. It takes four weeks, up until Christmas, for Seonghwa to fall in love.
no astrophage au, boyfriend!ryland x afab reader oneshot
okay but like… Ryland would handle your panic attacks so well. (I had such a hard time staying in the present tense omg sorry if I fucked up)
[my masterlist]
You’re out together at a local bar, they’re having an outdoor music festival. You’ve had a couple drinks to ease your nerves, but you just can’t seem to calm down. It wasn’t your idea to go, no, it was Ryland’s suggestion. He loves supporting local music, and for good reason. The San Fran music scene is great.
But the noise. The people. There was nowhere to hide from the overstimulation building inside you. Had you planned better, you might’ve brought earplugs or something, but it was a last minute thing. You were a little bit rushed.
The bass drum reverberates in your chest as a woman who was clearly high trips and bumps into you, almost making you spill your overpriced hard cider. You glance over to Ryland who is lost in the music, bouncing from foot to foot to the beat. He looks so happy, it would be a damn shame to interrupt him. So you push your feelings down, ignoring your needs.
Three more songs go by and you’re only getting more overwhelmed. It’s getting hot from all the bodies dancing nearby. Ryland absentmindedly drapes an arm around you, pulling you close and swaying to the music. You shoot him a weak smile, trying to hide your irritation. You’re not mad at him. He didn’t do anything wrong. You agreed to coming, knowing pretty well what the event would entail. “Ry, babe? I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you shout into his ear over the noise.
“Okay, sweetheart! I’ll be right here. Text me if you need me!” He added that last bit because he knew you were prone to occasional panic attacks. One too many times, you’d lost him in a crowd and panicked, leaving him to freak out when you were gone for so long. So you’d established a system: if one of you needs to go somewhere, the other stays in the exact same spot. If 10 minutes have passed or an emergency has occurred, one of you sends a text.
With that in mind, you weave through the crowd back inside in the bar. It’s another maze just to find the ladies’ room. And of course, there’s a line. You take your spot in the queue, cataloging all the neon signs along the walls to pass the time. In your distracted state, you don’t notice a drunk man as he backs into you, spilling both his and your drinks. “Ohh shit!” he slurred. “Sorry!”
“It’s fine!” you lie. But you’re even more upset down. You pick up the can to find that it’s essentially empty now, maybe one sip left. The rest of it is on your legs, swiftly becoming sticky and uncomfortable. You fight the frustrated tears that burn in your eyes. The phone grasped in your palm calls to you, almost saying, call him, text him, what are you waiting for?
You’re waiting for your breaking point, clearly.
As the line to the bathroom shrunk, so did your patience. A screaming match broke out between two patrons, both obviously over-served. No one enjoys listening to people scream, but you absolutely hate it. Not only is it triggering, but it hurts your ears! A bartender is trying to break up the fight when the single-stall restroom finally opens up. You dart inside, your vision starting to blur, and you lock the door behind you.
The look on your face in the mirror says it all. You are beyond the point of no return. It’s going to happen. Your expression is wrenched in distress as you let the floodgates open. The breath in your throat stutters uncontrollably, your chest is heaving already. Tears begin to fall, immediately smudging the makeup you put so much effort into.
Wetting a paper towel in the sink, you attempt to wipe away the stickiness on your legs. It’s helping, but the paper towel just starts to dissolve from the repetitive motion. You discard the damp towels into the trashcan and realize that your hands are starting to go numb. “Fuck,” you groan, trying to shake the feeling back into them. It’s not working. Clenching them into fists doesn’t help, either. The reflection in the mirror is hard to look at. So you turn toward the corner of the bathroom and let yourself hyperventilate.
You stroke at your chest with a palm, trying to calm down. You try to count five things you can see, but your mind is such a mess, you forget the names for “hand soap” and “air freshener”. Okay, yeah, this is officially an emergency.
You unlock your phone and immediately navigate to Ryland’s contact card. A shaky thumb hits the call button and you bring the speaker to your ear. The familiar waiting tone plays, and plays, and plays. You pull the phone from your ear. Still trying to connect the call. Fuck, Ryland, pick up, you think. You hang up and try again, praying he feels the vibrations this time. Lord knows his ringtone isn’t audible.
“Hello?” he shouts.
“Ry,” you sob onto the line.
“Hello? Sweetheart? I can’t hear you!”
“Ry, I need help,” you reply, a little louder this time.
“What? You need help?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’m having a hard time hearing, I’m gonna come find you okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, relieved.
“Alright. I’m coming. I love you, see you in a sec.”
You hang up the call without saying anything more. He’ll be there in a matter of seconds, you can talk to him then. In the mirror, you realize how fucked your pretty makeup is now. You tear another stupid paper towel from the dispenser and use it to wipe the smudged mascara trailing down your face. A knock sounds from the other side of the door.
“Sweetheart? It’s Ryland. I’m here, baby, open up.” Your knees almost gave out with relief. You unlock the door and swing it open to reveal your boyfriend, his face contorted with worry. “Baby. Are you okay?” he asks, quickly taking you in his arms. Sobs wrack your chest as you finally feel safe again. “Shhh, baby. Oh no. I’m sorry. You have a panic attack?”
“Yeah,” you cry.
“Oh, my love. I should’ve known this was gonna be too much. The music is so loud, huh?”
“No,” you hiccup, trying to speak through labored breathing. “It’s not just the noise. Some guy bumped into me and spilled my drink. Then these people got into a fight. And it was scary.”
Ryland pulls away to look at you and you can see the way his heart tries not to break at hearing that. “Oh. Sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” he coos. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” You shake your head. No, you’re mostly unscathed. With his thumbs, he swipes away the tears descending your cheeks then brushing your hair back out of your face. “Oh, my pretty girl. Look at you. You spent so much time getting your makeup just right. You’re still so beautiful though.”
Your head dips to hide your face, but Ryland takes that as an invitation to plant a kiss to your crown. “I’m here now, sweetheart. It’s alright.” His big strong hands trace comforting circles on your back. “You ready to go back out?” he asks. Your shoulder shrug with indecision. You don’t wanna go back out there, but you don’t wanna stay in this dirty bathroom all night. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s get out of here, what do you think? Let’s take a walk.”
You start to pick up your head to look at him. Observing his face, you consider his offer for a moment. His pretty blue eyes are watching you from behind his big glasses. It’s hard to say no to anything he suggests, but this was an easy yes. “Okay,” you whisper.
“Yeah? Alright. Let’s go, honey.” He grins, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the bathroom, not even acknowledging the line that was forming. You’re a little embarrassed at the eyes that stare as you and your boyfriend walk out of the single-person bathroom. They might think you just had sex in there, and honestly, let them. Your boyfriend is hot, there’s nothing embarrassing about being seen with him.
The cool air soothes you instantly as you step out into the streets. You can finally breathe again. Ryland looks back at you and gives your hand three little squeezes. “You alright now, sweetheart?”
“Mmhmm,” you hummed.
“I’m sorry you had a panic attack. I wish I would’ve been there for you when it started. You know you can tell me if you’re overwhelmed, it won’t upset me.”
You sigh. “I know… I know. It’s just hard to tell when it’s coming on, sometimes. I thought I was gonna be able to power through it.”
Shaking his head, Ryland speaks again. “No, you don’t ever have to power through, my love. You just tell me when you’re not having a good time anymore. I promise, I’d rather leave a fun show to preserve your happiness. Some concert isn’t worth those tears.”
“Thanks, Ry,” is all you can get out. Your heart swells in your chest in a way that threatens more tears, but happy tears this time.
“Baby, you alright?” he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I just… I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey. So much. I’d do anything for you. I mean that.” Ryland slowly leans in and kisses you softly, his arms snaking around your waist, biceps flexing slightly in the process. Under the streetlights, you fall in love with Ryland all over again.
Hand in hand, Ryland walks you all the way home, stealing kisses at each cross walk and reiterating over and over how much he loves you.
(I’m not gonna proofread this bc it’s almost 1 am and I’m fucking tired lmao alright I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD THIS IS MY FIRST ONESHOT)
Tipsy, Topsy, Turvy (Sexy, Silly, Sincerely... In Love) by thecyspicyfiend
Summary: Seonghwa decides to speak up. He says carefully, “Captain—”
Hongjoong moans salaciously and both Ludley and Brass’ bewilderment intensifies.
From his peripherals, Seonghwa sees the rest of the crew of Illusion turning around to hide their laughter into their drinks. Jongho does give Seonghwa a pointed look, a silent plea for the first mate to put an end to this negotiation.
--
When Hongjoong consumes alcohol, the captain becomes sexy... And silly.
