POP! (2022) NAYEON

Luffy. If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman… you'll be disappointed. Right? From now… until I beat him. To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!

Mackenyu as Roronoa Zoro "Pirate Hunter" ONE PIECE (2023) ☠ 1.05 "Eat at Baratie!"

wooyoung ♡ hyunjin ~ mama 2021 ©

scored! : l.c

word count | 12.4k (SORRY idk why i do this to myself either)

pairing | lee chan (svt) x female reader

warning(s) / includes | swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, food mentions (lmk if i missed anything!!)

genre | fluff, humour, university au, enemies-to-lovers au

notes | uh i don’t really know how game season works bc it’s not really a thing in unis here (?) so ;-; please forgive me for any (inevitable) inaccuracies hghhghe also this is my first time making a moving banner so shhh just ignore how bad it is gwhsha

summary: lee chan should really stop winning so many games for your university, because as the resident writer for the sports column of the student newsletter, you’re starting to get really sick of having to cross paths with him all the time.

a/n: happy birthday to my boyfriend (/j) chan who’s also a rat (derogatory) bc he never pays rent for living in my head 🙄💗 also just thought everyone should see this clip that kinda inspired this whole fic okay bye—

WEEK NINE.

You love writing for your university’s student newsletter, you really do; you just hate the person you have to write about.

“Stupid Lee Chan and his stupid wins,” you grumble, stomping across the football field with your notebook grasped tightly in your hold. Seungkwan kindly got you one with a hard cover for the new school year, because he will never forget that particular afternoon last year when you stormed into Wonwoo’s office and slammed down a crumpled sheet of recycled paper onto his hardwood desk, with LEE CHAN’S STUPID INTERVIEW #4 messily scrawled across the top of the page.

Something about the look on your face that day told Seungkwan you didn’t particularly care if Chan saw the title, written in all caps with a black marker. Hell, you probably wanted him to see.

Thus entered the hard-cover notebook so no other innocent sheet of paper would have to meet its unfortunate demise at the hands of your never-ending feud with the star player.

“Well,” Mingyu begins, easily catching up to you thanks to his long legs, “they don’t call him the ace of the team for no reason, you gotta admit that those goals he scored at the game were pretty awesome. Redstone U stood no chance.”

You hate everything about the soccer field; the dirt that gets trapped between the grooves of your soles, the occasional rogue ball that comes whipping at your head at light speed, the jock who’s currently waiting for you at the bleachers…

“Yeah, he’s a good player, I guess. But I think he let all the attention get to his head.” You lift your free hand to shield your face from the late afternoon sun, beads of sweat already forming along your hairline. Damn you for always forgetting to apply sunscreen before heading to the field, Minghao will have your head when he finds out. “Every time he poses for you while you take his photos, I just want to throw up.”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Mingyu singsongs, “people don’t throw themselves at him for no reason either. Plus, I think that blonde hair he has going on right now suits him really well.”

Your lips purse together as you swallow down a bitter remark about how you absolutely do not find Lee Chan attractive, especially not with the new hair colour he got done over the summer. Who cares that a compliment from Kim Mingyu, most-eligible-bachelor-on-campus extraordinaire, means you’re undeniably hot with a capital ‘H’ and the trademark symbol? Certainly not you.

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CHANCE

pairing: lee felix x gn!reader

genre: fluff, f2l, highschool!au but not properly established

cw: they share a bed, not proof read and written in one sitting at 10:30pm °-°

wc: 1.7K

a/n: i can’t lie i do genuinely love this fic a lot, it’s silly and small but i think it’s sweet and he is too! please like and rb if you enjoy, feedback is very welcome and all is appreciated <3

Fatigue is a fatal thing. Clouding thoughts and forcing you into decisions you really should’ve thought more about—it seems so normal yet the danger that comes with it is sometimes inevitable. Like waking up with last night’s makeup on, or missing your stop on the bus because you just happened to rest your eyes.

Fatigue takes over your body on the night everyone is cuddled up in Felix’s living room. Friday night brings a buzzing atmosphere and the sky is an almost vibrant navy colour; the moon shines particularly brightly and it’s hard to resist sneaking a glance at it every five seconds. The boys are all focused on his game console (apparently it’s the newest one, you and Minho seem to be the only ones not that interested) and the sight is pleasant to see. Wrapped together in blankets, bowls of food both hot and cold scattered around for you to share. The sight of Jeongin’s face lighting up when he finally scores a point. The host looks around his living room with a smile on his face—everything is perfect, and he doesn’t even care that he has a test on Monday morning he needs to revise for.

In fact, he’s so totally enarmed in happiness that the only thing that brings him out of his trance is the feeling of a weight dropping on his shoulder. It wouldn’t have been a big deal hadn’t it been you, but of course, it is your hair that brushes softly against the skin of his neck before you quickly spring back up.

The suddenness of the movement catches his attention, and his head and body spin around to focus completely on you. Baby hairs messily frame your face and your eyes are slightly puffy and desperate to close there and then, but he can tell you’re forcing them open as you try and keep yourself awake. His heart pounds in his chest when you flash him a grin, and it’s irresistible not to send one back. He looks like an angel—the sun reincarnated—but he thinks you’re the prettiest person to walk the earth.

In fact, he’s so sure of his thoughts that it makes him sick. Sick in the way that he knows you are best friends, in fact, you were friends with Chan before you were ever friends with Felix, and sick in the way that he knows trying to change that dynamic could ruin everything.

Love is so delicate, and so cruel that he questions whether such a thing can exist, because surely if it did, it’d be much easier for him to wrap your exhausted form in his arms and lull you to sleep himself. Of course, it’s not as hard as it seems, but he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know anything, and that’s what makes it such a scary thing.

Felix quickly snaps out of his thoughts and realises he was lost in his mind once again. Your body is slumped facing his, the right side of your face squished against the pillow of the sofa while you watch his face. Really, you’re not doing too much else, but the feeling of just being able to look at someone and feel immense comfort is an unexplainably lovely feeling in itself. You’d be quite happy to sit and exist with him like that for many moments longer, but as the blond pulls the blanket up to cover your shoulders, he leans in closer.

He doesn’t catch the way your breath hitches, but he certainly notices the way his own gut churns as he leans in.

“Do you need to go to bed? I’ll take you up to go early so you can get some rest.” He asks, whispering the offer in a way so kindly that you’re more focused on how dreamy he is than the fact he’s said the words you’ve been waiting on all night—you can finally rest, after what feels like a lifetime of trying to keep yourself awake. When a look of relief washes over your face and you gently nod at him, Felix decides it was worth the uncomfortable and intrusive butterflies. He’s never seen you look so pleased to accept an offer, but when you clumsily get up and stumble over your own feet, he knows how much you want to just sleep. He giggles, too: you look like a newborn puppy.

Telling the boys he’s taking you up, the blond wastes no time in jumping to your side. He doesn’t realise how he’s looking at you as though you’re his entire world, nor does he realise how his hand naturally snakes to the small of your back to give you soft comfort and support as you groggily drag your feet up the stairs.

He laughs when you cry about how you’re still wearing makeup, a little guilt creeping up his spine when you complain he’s “too mean” and that it’s a “serious thing”, but he knows he’ll take it off for you anyway. He doesn’t think he’d be able to sleep knowing he let you go to bed sad with stained eyes.

Every touch on your face is the most careful and light touch Felix has ever done. He’s so incredibly caring with the way he wipes at your eyes, one hand swiping the cotton pad while the other holds your jaw. The thoughts of how easy it would be to kiss you and how amazing it would feel to finally have your lips against are being brought to the front of his mind, and every time he shoves them back with pink ears and hot cheeks. However he doesn’t stop looking after you. His hands still wipe and caress your skin attentively and he still reaches for his moisturiser which he knows you adore the smell of (you let him know once, and now he puts it on every time he knows you’ll be somewhere).

Soon he’s practically carrying you into his bedroom. It shouldn’t make him as flustered as he is, but it’s weird to think that his arms are wrapped around you and pulling you close to his body as you walk into his bedroom. His parents aren’t even home—just his two sisters keeping the friend group company—but it still feels like he’s doing something he shouldn’t.

Those thoughts are easy to dismiss when you fall onto his mattress with a pleased sigh, the noise falling from your lips unconsciously and sending his mind reeling. You look so cute, quickly snuggling your way under the thick sheets and nuzzling your head into the pillows. Although you look comfortable enough, Felix feels almost inclined to tuck you in, his hands automatically reaching for the edges of the sheets that don’t quite cover your body and to the pillow that could be a little fluffier.

But he freezes. Your warm hand wraps around his wrist and his body goes still. “Stay with me.” You mumble, words hardly coherent but he hears them clear as day. You want him to stay with you and that could mean so many things but he’s only thinking of one, and soon he also thinks you can read his mind because you’re pulling the corner of the midnight quilt up and tapping the off-white sheets next to you.

Climbing under the covers is a natural response, he thinks. Felix thinks it’s even more natural for his arms to cradle your limp body after your own find his waist, cuddling into his body before going still. Along with the stillness of your body comes the shallow and steady breaths, and you’re asleep within minutes.

Perfect. He thinks everything is perfect and doesn’t care that someone will definitely come searching for him in an hour or so when they realise how long he’s been gone. Right now, all he can do is admire you, the curve of your nose and the dip of your cupid’s bow and every single detail that makes your face so loveable. He imagines the way you look when you first wake up in the morning, but gets shy when he imagines you waking up in his arms.

They’re all the scenarios from daydreams he has when he should be focusing on whatever the teacher is saying, but suddenly he realises they could become realities. He could wake up tomorrow and still have your arms wrapped weakly around his torso, feel your breath against his exposed chest and admire you as the golden sun leaks through the window. Still, he wouldn’t be able to kiss your lips and laugh when you ask him not to because you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. He can’t tickle you until you’re out of breath to wake you up and then end it with his head resting on top of your stomach, head tilted towards your face so he can watch the smile that paints it prettily.

There’s so much he wants to do and so much he can’t do and it’s driving him insane. Almost as though his hands are mere centimetres away from the thing he’s trying to grab, he’s never felt closer to having you than now. In fact, the situation you’re in would’ve been almost completely unreal to him just the day before, but now he’s got it and he doesn’t want to let go.

You manage to make him want to stay up until he physically cannot just so he can savour the feeling of being here with you. But fatigue has its ways, and spreads onto him like a contagious disease. He can feel his heart slow as his breathing matches yours, and his eyes start to shut before he even wants them to. Tomorrow, maybe he’ll make you breakfast and cook in the kitchen with you before anyone else is awake. Perhaps you’ll get up before him but stay still in his arms because you like it just as much as he does. There’s still a chance, and Felix decides to bet on it.

After all, he can’t confess to you in your sleep and expect you to reciprocate the feelings. Instead he settles for a kiss on the crown of your head, and one over your messy hair that he doesn’t care feels uncomfortable against his lips.

Having you here, right now, is better than having you never, he decides. The chance of getting you in the morning is better than the reality he’d face if he backs out of it all now and leaves you alone, empty in his bed. You’re worth taking the chance for, Felix thinks, and he’d happily bet on it again and again if it meant eventually, he could have you just like he wanted.

“kei, do you ever think about how strange it is that we've never fought?” you ask, limbs tangled with his as you cuddle on his bed.

it’s 10:03 PM and you’re doing your best to fight against the chilling, icy atmosphere of tsukishima’s room. for some reason, he likes to sleep like a vampire.

“do you want to?” he offers with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. tsukki doesn’t even open his eyes when he responds, too sleepy to entertain another one of your late night overthinking sessions.

“no,” you say calmly, “but we’ve been together for 7 months. we must either be like, the greatest couple of all time or the exact opposite.”

you feel his chest rise and deflate against your head as he lets an overly dramatic sigh.

you knew tsukishima kei wasn’t one for pda. hell, it was one of the things you loved about him. he knew how to make you feel loved without having to scream it to the world.

like that one time on one of your first dates, when you had accidentally fallen asleep on the soft grass of the park while waiting for his weekend practice to end. you woke up with a hand massaging your scalp.

“how long have you been waiting there?” you giggle, rising from your slumber as you rub your eyes awake. he pulls away, casually avoiding your gaze. “why didn’t you wake me?”

kei only shrugs, “you looked peaceful.”

or that other time you got sick for a week and couldn’t make it to school, so he immediately visited you as soon as you got better and brought his backpack with him.

“i got two copies of all the homeworks due next week, so you don’t have to ask the teachers for them.” he unpacks his notes and fishes out two pens from his bag before turning to you. “come, i’ll teach you everything you missed.”

your teachers praised you for how responsible you were, and told you how much they appreciated that you took the initiative to study.

yeah, you totally did that.

or like right now, and all the other nights you’ve spent at his place. because unbeknownst to you, tsukishima kei sets up his bedroom every single time you visit. he tidies up, cleaning even spots that you would never think to look at. but most importantly, and tsukishima knows this routine by heart, he turns the a/c to the highest setting so you’d be forced to cuddle against him underneath his sheets.

“the former,” is all replies with, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“but seriously though. how lucky are we to never have fought even after seven months.”

tsukki sighs again, before reluctantly revealing, “we don’t fight because i make it a point to always agree with you.”

you’re taken aback by his words, sitting up slightly as you look him in the eyes, though his are still closed as he tries to focus on sleeping.

“...huh?”

“idiot,” he teases. maybe he thinks calling you names will cover up for how unbelievably sweet he’s being right now, “why would i want to argue with you?” he shifts, trying to subtly move his face away so you don’t see him fully.

“but i can’t always have my way, you know. a relationship should be 50/50, right?”

“not ours.” he presses your head back against his chest, and you hear his heartbeat fasten a little. “you’re the boss.”

BONUS: “and you’ve never paid in your life anyway. you don’t believe in that 50/50 bullshit.” “hey!” “i don’t even know what your wallet looks like.”

@kokokoula this one’s for u <3

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(@littleprimadonna via)

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