#Glimpse Behind the Wall { Drabbles }

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time His Older Brother Gave Him A Tarot Reading”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, reader is not present, Sukuna is pining hard

Word Count: 1.26k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna isn’t one to make time for his family. Although he has an identical twin brother who bothers him far too much for his liking and an older half brother, he almost never talks about them and spends even less time talking too them. But today he was feeling nice… which is strange for him, but regardless, he decided to agree to come by his brothers’ apartment.

And was quickly reminded of why he never comes over.

Sukuna was seated on the antique couch while Choso kneeled in front of the coffee table between them, flickering candles on every surface bathing the living room in a soft warm glow and reflecting on the shiny surfaces of the crystals placed meticulously all over the table. Choso opened up a small black box, pulling intricately designed tarot cards from inside and fanning them between his fingers before spreading them face down across the table.

Sukuna really was trying not to roll his eyes at the whole ordeal, but the man can only take so much before he’s bound to cave, “This is so stupid.”

“Shh…” Choso leans forward and presses his finger over Sukuna’s lips.

“Don’t touch me.” He grumbles.

“Shut up,” Choso loses his calm demeanor for only a second before he’s closing his eyes again, “I’m focusing.”

“On what?”

“I’m tuning in…” He wiggles his fingers over the cards, “to the energies.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Sukuna rubs his temples, “When did you start doing this witchcraft shit again?”

“Not witchcraft,” Choso peeks one eye open to shoot a quick glare at his brother, “And yesterday.”

“Oh you’re a real professional huh?” He smirks down at him.

“Sukuna,” His shoulders slump and he lets out a frustrated huff, “Just, fucking shut up.”

The two of them squint as the lights suddenly flick on, Yuuji not quite getting the memo of what’s going on downstairs as he leans his head over the stair railing to peek into the living room, “Ooh, how’s the satanic ritual going?” He calls out from the stairway.

“Yuuji!” The two of them call out in unison. He lets out a little “Oops” and flicks the light back off, running back to his room upstairs.

Choso rubs his eyes, smudging his eyeliner onto his fingers, “Okay just, pick a card.”

Sukuna huffs out an annoyed breath, reaching forward and tapping his pointer finger on one of the cards in the middle. Choso slides the card down in front of Sukuna and flips it over, revealing an upside down picture of a man sitting upright in a bed with his head in his hands and swords neatly stacked on the wall behind him.

“Oh, interesting.” Choso mumbles.

“The fuck is he crying about?” Sukuna leans down and squints at the card on the table, “It’s upside down.”

“It’s reversed,” Choso clarifies, “The nine of swords reversed.”

“Choso, I don’t know what the hell that means.”

The long haired man sits up a little straighter, pointing at the card with a manicured finger, “This first card is your past. The next will be the present, and the last will be your future.” He picks the card up and scans it carefully, “You were… struggling, alone, not one to talk to others even when you need to-“

“What is this fuckin’ therapy?”

Choso groans and rolls his eyes, “God knows you need it, but no. Anyway,” He clears his throat, “You were in a downward spiral, but this is past tense, clearly you’re more open now considering,” He gestures vaguely around the room, “Well, you’re here for once.”

Sukuna is visibly annoyed, not a fan of being picked and prodded at. Choso places the card back down on the table, gesturing for Sukuna to pick another one, which to Choso’s surprise and for Sukuna’s morbid curiosity, he does; tapping his finger on a card pushed to the side of the table.

Choso flips the card over, and once again, it's upside down. It pictures a man sitting cross crossed in front of a tree, three golden goblets on the grass in front of him and a fourth being given to him from a disembodied hand floating next to him.

He’s really fuckin’ bad at organizing his cards.

Choso’s gaze flickers between Sukuna and the card, his brows furrowed in thought so clearly that you could almost see cogs turning behind his eyes, “Four of cups… reversed.”

“The hell does reversed mean?”

“It’s usually a negative version of the card’s meaning.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Oh fuckin’ lovely.”

Choso props his elbow onto the table, tracing the outline of the card with his finger, “You’re withdrawing-“

“Well yeah. No shit,” Sukuna cuts him off, “You’re telling me I’m cursed. What’s the damn card mean?”

“That is what the card means, idiot. You’re reluctant to open up to someone.”

Sukuna leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugs, “Maybe the future card will clarify.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs. Choso looks up at him with confusion, “I told you this was stupid, I’m not picking another.”

The light flicks on once again, Sukuna groans at the sound of Yuuji’s voice yelling from the stairway, “Sounds like someone’s a fucking pussy!”

“Yuuji, quit eavesdropping or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.”

The light flicks back off.

Choso looks up at Sukuna expectantly, and after glaring down at him for a moment he breaks, rolling his eyes and flipping over a random card, “If it’s upside down I swear to fucking god-“

“Oh shit!”

“What?” Sukuna sounds almost startled, looking down at the card he sees that this one is upright; picturing a naked man and woman standing in front of some kind of angel. But he’s quickly able to gather the most damning part of the card.

The bottom of the card says “The Lovers.”

“Oh fuck off.”

A smile spreads across Choso’s face, “I don’t think I need to explain this one to you. And it’s not upside down.”

“Reversed.” Sukuna mockingly clarifies.

“Shut up,” Choso leans forward, grin still plastered on his lips, “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody, this shit isn’t real.” Sukuna scowls, but deep down he’s glad the room is so dark to hide the tint in his cheeks.

It’s not fucking real idiot. Stop it.

“How about this,” Choso clasps his hands together, looking up towards the ceiling, “If this shit is real, give us a sign.”

Yuuji flickers the lights.

“No! Stop interfering, this is serious!” Choso yells out towards the stairway.

But Sukuna’s blood runs cold as his phone buzzes in his pocket, quiet enough that no one could hear, but he could feel it.

It’s not real.

The room is silent for a moment as Choso scans for any type of sign, but it’s as if the world had completely stopped turning, not even the candles were flickering. Choso plops his head onto the coffee table, mumbling under his breath, “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

“Mhm.” Sukuna hums, putting up a disinterested front as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “Can we watch a movie or something now like a normal family?”

Choso defeatedly blows out the candles, collecting his crystals and placing his tarot cards neatly back into the box, “Fine, fine, but I still think it’s real.”

Sukuna’s heart nearly stops beating when he unlocks his phone and sees a text from you, “If u leave dirty dishes in the sink one more time I’m actually gonna kill u in your sleep.”

God I hope it’s fucking real.

A/N: Family bonding time has never been so awkward, anyway here’s that time Sukuna started to believe in magic, or witchcraft, or anything if it means you like him as much as he likes you. Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[wandasreallover]

ceo!wanda drabble|

Based on this photo ^

Title: Behind Closed Doors

The fluorescent lights of the office flickered like a stuttering heartbeat, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of stress. Today had been one of those days. You let out a heavy sigh as you walked through the doors of your apartment, a wave of exhaustion washing over you. Work had knocked the breath out of you—an impossible project deadline, an avalanche of demands from your boss, and the sharp criticism from a client who seemed to take pleasure in belittling your efforts. It felt as if the weight of the world was resting squarely on your shoulders, and it was a burden too heavy to bear alone.

You dropped your bag at the door, the sound echoing in the quiet space. The pent-up tension knotted in your chest; you were too drained to even think about making dinner. Instead, you decided to check in on Wanda, your partner and the indomitable CEO of Stark Financial. Her office was situated on the far side of the sleek, modern apartment you shared, a space that was usually filled with laughter, love, and warmth. Tonight, however, it was quiet, with only the muffled sound of typing breaking the stillness.

As you approached the door, you briefly hesitated. You didn't want to interrupt her again. The week had already been long, and you could see the stress lines etching deeper into her skin each day. Wanda was a force of nature—a cold, calculated leader in the office, yet behind closed doors, her warmth enveloped you like a comforting blanket. You admired her fiercely; still, a part of you felt like a distraction during her busy hours. So, you turned away.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” came a soft voice from the office.

You froze, caught in her web of concern. Wanda had a knack for sensing your presence, even when you thought you had managed to slip away unnoticed.

“I just thought I’d let you work,” you replied, trying to play it off. “You’re busy.”

“Not as busy as my heart when I’m waiting for you to get home,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Come here. I insist.”

You smiled despite yourself, nudging the door open and stepping inside her office. It was meticulously organized—a testament to Wanda’s precise mind. Papers were stacked neatly, and her laptop screen glowed with a kaleidoscope of spreadsheets and graphs. But as she looked up, her expression turned softer—an unguarded glimpse of the woman you adored.

“You look tired,” she remarked, concern furrowing her brow.

“I had a long day,” you admitted, sinking into the chair opposite her desk. “You know, same old stuff. I thought I would let you focus on your… empire.”

Wanda chuckled lightly. “I love my empire, but you are my home.”

The lump in your throat swelled. It was moments like this—where the walls of her icy exterior melted away with little gestures and word choices—that made you feel like you were the happiest person alive.

“I don’t want to take you away from your work, Wanda. I know how important it is to you,” you murmured, shifting in your seat.

“You could never take me away from what really matters,” she reassured. “And right now, that’s you.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond as you caught the glimmer of sincerity shining in her green eyes. After a moment of hesitation, you slid out of the chair and made your way over to her. You stood beside her, the rich scent of her lavender shampoo wafting toward you, grounding you in the midst of your chaotic thoughts.

Without warning, she reached out and took your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours and abruptly pulled you into her lap. “Stay here with me,” she said softly.

You exhaled sharply, feeling the warmth radiating off her, and leaned down, resting your head against her shoulder. She smelled like home—lavender and the faint, intoxicating hint of citrus from her favorite candle. The tension in your body began to unwind as you inhaled deeply, seeking comfort in her presence.

Time ticked by softly, the rhythmic clicking of her keyboard becoming a lullaby that wrapped around you. Her focus on work was unwavering, but you could sense her awareness of you—the way she shifted ever so slightly toward you, anchoring you in her space.

After a while, you felt your eyelids growing heavy. There was something soothing about being near her, something that made you forget the chaos of the day. As the day's exhaustion settled in your bones, you felt the warm tingle of sleep creeping up. You nestled in closer, finding solace against the soft, familiar curve of her neck, inhaling the warmth of her presence as you surrendered to the comfort.

Somewhere in the distance, the clicking of keys grew louder, faster—pulsing with unspoken pressure. But you were enveloped in Wanda’s warmth, and it was where you most wanted to be, despite the storm of her workload.

In a heartbeat, you fell asleep.

Hours passed like fleeting clouds on a lazy afternoon, and Wanda noticed the shift in your breathing—slow and steady, the tension of the day finally giving way to tranquility. She paused her work, grateful for the moment, yet worried about what had caused you such distress. The protective nature that so often emerged in her professional life flared up again, nudging her to gently brush your hair back and press her lips to your forehead.

“You're okay now,” she whispered, a soft promise meant only for you. She knew how hard it had been for you and felt her heart ache wishing she could take every burden from you.

With a weary sigh, Wanda returned to her work, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. Her thoughts drifted not toward spreadsheets but rather to you: how hard you worked, how tough your days could be, and how all she wanted was to be your rock in the storm.

[jinwoosungs]

6/29/24; 11:14pm

sylus x fem.reader (non mc)

{ drabble }

sylus was in the midst of taking a shower when you decided to (playfully) ambush him.

he was humming in the shower when you sneak into his room, seeing mephisto perched close to the master bathroom. the door remains ajar, and you caught a glimpse of sylus washing himself behind the foggy glass. placing a finger against your lips, you tell the mechanical bird to remain quiet as the crow gives you a quizzical expression with the tilt of its head.

you crept closer to the bathroom’s entrance, keeping your back pressed tightly against the wall as you did your best to remain out of his sights. giggles were felt bubbling against your throat, but you held back the urge, doing your best to remain as quiet as possible.

within just a few minutes, you hear sylus shut off the shower, his hums increasing in volume when you hear the gentle shifting of fabric the moment he steps out of the shower dressed only in a silk robe. his bare feet pads out of the bathroom, and as your footsteps tiptoe across the marble floors, ready to ambush him-

only to feel his hand automatically wrap themselves around your wrist, bringing you closer to him as you land unceremoniously against his chest. a knowing smirk graces his handsome features as you were left pouting at your failed attempt at surprising him.

“no fair; i thought i had you.”

his rich chuckles were all that you could hear when he leans down to whisper, “is that so?” amusement was heard in his tone as you tremble upon feeling his teeth lightly grazing at the shell of your ear, biting down against it before shoving you against one of the seats settled across his luxurious bedroom.

gasping at the sudden impact, sylus keeps both hands pressed against your shoulders, leaning down while showing you an almost wolfish grin before descending upon you. his teeth lightly gnashes against the side of your neck, giving you an almost ticklish sensation as you writhe and gasp beneath him. your laughter echoes throughout the room as sylus’s pleased hums were felt vibrating against your skin.

when the constant laughter caused by sylus and his gentle ministrations against your skin became too much to bear (making your sides hurt in response) he finally stops torturing you and takes you within his embrace, laying on the couch while allowing you to rest against his chest.

slowly, your laughter begins to die down when sylus brushes his lips against your hair, giving it a kiss as you let out a soft purr in response.

“you missed.”

sylus ends up quirking an eyebrow at you. “i beg your pardon?”

your giggling returns when you say once more, “i said, you missed.”

realization dawns within his rufescent eyes, murmuring a low “brat.” to you before leaning down to fully press a kiss against your awaiting lips, kissing you with a passion that conveys just how much you mean to him. with a soft moan escaping from your lips, you delve your fingers into his soft, damp hair, giving it a gentle pull while relishing in his soft groans of your name.

you will always have this man completely and utterly wrapped around your fingers-

and lucky for you, sylus didn’t mind one bit.

end notes: sylus still has a chokehold on me (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[im-just-echo]

Gladiator Orion AU

Megatron Prime and High Lord Protector Orion short drabble.

The Senate floor was in chaos.

Megatron Prime knew that the Senate floor was a battlefield- but one where words were used, not weapons to do battle. Until now.

He barely had time to react when the mech lunged at him, a hidden blade flashing under the cold Senate lights.

He caught a glimpse of the would-be assassin's optics- wild, desperate- before the weight of another body crashed between them. The impact sent megatron stumbling back against the wall. A sharp vent escaped him, but his focus wasn't on himself. It was on Orion.

Megatron had seen Orion fight before. Had watched him break Mechs in the pits with his bare servos, had seen him silence a entire hall with a single speech. But this- this was different.

Orion Pax had moved with terrifying speed, intercepting the attack before it could land. His servo wrapped around the assassin's wrist crushing the limb until the metal groaned and the blade clattered uselessly to the floor.

The would be assassin's snarled, struggling. "Cybertron will never- "

Orion silenced him with a devastating grab, his servos wrapping around the mechs throat, squeezing tight, a metallic crunch echoed the room and energon began to leak into the pristine floor. The Senate erupted into shocked gasps, but Orion wasn't finished.

"You dare?" Orion whispered as he leaned into the assassin's audials, his voice low and dangerous. "YOU DARE to raise your servo against him, to hurt him in my presence?"

The air cracked as he wrenched the mech off the ground, his servos gripping the mechs midsection. For a moment, there was a horrible pause- realization dawning in the assassin's optics.

The mech- some nameless, self-important senator- managed a weak, static-laced plea before Orion tore him in two.

With a wet, sickening metallic screech, the sound of metal giving way under sheer strength, tore through the chamber, as energon and internal fluids splattered across Orion's frame. The sound of the wet splatter of energon against the polished floor echoing loudly as it dripped off Orion's frame. The two halves of the traitor hit the floor with a heavy, final thud.

Silence.

The Senate was frozen in stunned silence. Even the most outspoken politicians, those who had spent cycles rally against Megatron's leadership, stared in wide-opticed horror.

Megatron himself was venting heavily, pressed against the wall behind Orion. Not from fear. Not at all.

Holy Primus.

His spark thrummed at the sight of Orion, energon-slicked and still seething with protective rage. His optics glow a deep intense blue and his stance was one of absolute certainty. Orion turned to him streaked in fresh energon, his frame heaving with exertion. Megatron was stunned by the raw violence and sheer devotion in his act, and it sent something molten right through his Spark.

"I will not tolerate anyone who thinks they can harm you." Orion declared, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Megatron almost fragging collapsed.

From his seat, Senator Ratchet groaned, palming his faceplate. "For frag's sake."

Soundwave, who was sitting next to his adopted sire, had allowed his visor to slide into place at some point during the altercation, simply inclined his helm, in something that could have either been approval- or deep disappointment. It was hard to tell.

Megatron swallowed and vented sharply, staring at his High Lord Protector, his Orion. Attempting to compose himself with a voice thick with something far from regal he managed, "My Orion..."

Link to it on AO3

[joocomics]

1k followers celebration event — ⌞⌗ xdh drabble⌝

𓂃⠀𓈒 jiseok x fem!reader x seungmin

genre: smut ( 18+ ) ── 0.6 words

request: “i want us all to get off at the same time” + spanking

✎… groupie!sub!reader, spanking, orgasm control (f!rec), orgasm denial (f!rec), fingering, oral sex (m!rec), pet names, deepthroating, light degradation, hint of dacryphilia

( event masterlist | xdh masterlist )

The bass from the speakers downstairs vibrates through the walls, muffling distant hum of chatter, but here... in this room, full of tension and cigarette smoke, your cries is the only sound that matters.

“Relax,” Seungmin murmurs behind you; his voice is mellow and smooth, but his hand - demanding and heavy on your skin.

His slim, but firm and confident fingers slip out of you, landing into a quick smack that has you wincing against the desk you’re bent over.

You lost count on how many slaps you’ve taken so far. All you can focus on is the overwhelming warmth spreading on your butt cheeks - they’re burning, just like your throbbing pussy walls which continue to be teased until you’re close.

Only for your orgasm to be stolen away.

“Damn, again?” Jiseok sighs. The condescending smirk is creeping in his deep voice. “Poor slut, I can see her pussy crying all the way from here.”

You swallow thickly, then bite your lip, taking another hit from Seungmin’s palm. The fingers of your one hand grip the edge of the wooden surface tightly - a vast contrast to your halting legs, threatening to give up any moment now.

“What is it?” He speaks up again, his sticky fingertips grazing your wet folds in a way that has your figure squirming. “You sound like you have something to say.”

He’s referring to the broken sounds of desperation that won’t stop escaping your dry throat.

“Can I cum now?” You tilt your head, earning a small glimpse of his naked torso. “I really need it, p-please allow me...”

“Ah, baby,” he exhales softly, leaning into your face, “I want us all to get off at the same time. I told you, didn’t I?”

You lock eyes once you turn into his direction. His gaze is sensual, yet, daring, making him even more unpredictable.

“I know, but,” you mumble, nearly in a whisper. “Please…”

However, he only stretches the direct contact between you some more, without saying anything else. Until both of you hear footsteps approaching.

That’s when he responds through a chuckle:

“But Jiseok doesn't seem nearly close, baby. Don’t be selfish now.”

“Yeah, that's right,” his band mate pretends to frown, shifting your vision by laying a hand on the side of your face. “I thought you liked me.”

You know he’s toying with you, but still, his words send a chill through your body.

“I do.”

“Take it in your mouth then.” He commands, pulling the chair beside the desk to take a seat.

His grin deepens as he watches you drop to your knees.

Your lips stretch obediently, wrapping around his hard length that’s leaking on the side with pre cum.

“Ah, shit—“ he groans, throwing his head back for a moment, “deeper, baby, show me how fucking bad you want it.”

His hands don’t wait for you to intensify the pace on your own - they press onto your skull, forcing you down into his lap.

Gripping on the armchair, you easen up your mouth as best as you can, letting his dick invade the back of your throat.

“Soo good,” Seungmin, entertained, praises your skills as you avoid the urge to gag. “I wonder if you’ve done this a lot or you’re just gifted.”

Jiseok moves his hands away, letting you catch your breath.

Your teary eyes meet his own, gleaming with a mixture of lust and amusement.

“C’mon,” he snaps you out of your daze, “turn around.”

Seungmin stares down at you as you spin slowly, levelling your salivating lips with the head of his cock.

He’s longer, and you quickly feel the pressure in your throat.

“Yeah, just like that,” he mutters under his breath. Jiseok leans forward, placing a hand on your head to keep you still. “You’re gonna earn it soon, baby.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[maria-chwan]

Ice Trap - Sanji x Fem!Reader Drabble

Tw: side character death, injuries, hurt/comfort

"Don't kill him, Zoro. He buried a treasure somewhere. He has to tell us where it is", Nami interrupted Zoro.

The enemy scoffed. He swayed on his feet, bleeding heavily on his white cloak and fur boots.

"HAHA! I dug up that treasure years ago! It's all gone now! I used it to eat the finest food and drink the best wine! Take that, you losers!" the enemy taunted them.

"I changed my mind. Go ahead and kill him", Nami said and walked away.

"HEY! YOU CAN'T JUST- WAIT A MINUTE!"

Zoro slashed the enemy across the chest, cutting him in half. The man was instantly dead.

Sanji started to take a head-count to make sure that everyone had managed. The enemy had fought against them with ice powers, sprouting walls of ice from the ground. Some of the ice had been in form of blocks or spikes.

Sanji spotted Nami and Zoro taking care of the enemy. Chopper and Usopp were nearby. Sanji saw a glimpse of Luffy in the corner of his eye. When he went to take a closer look, he saw one of the captain's legs had been trapped inside a wall of ice. Luffy was currently trying to pull his leg out of the ice, muttering to himself in an annoyed manner.

So everyone had not managed to escape the ice traps. The ice powers had shocked them all, Sanji admitted to himself. The thought of getting stuck inside of block of ice... Sanji shivered from sudden anxiety.

That's when he saw (Y/N). She was a little farther away and looked like she was trapped.

NO! No no no no no!

Sanji sprinted to (Y/N), repeating a few words in his head.

I'm gonna help you, I'm gonna help you, I'm gonna help you-

When he got to (Y/N), he saw that her eyes were open. She looked at him and let out a relieved laugh, biting her lip to stop herself from crying. She looked like she was shivering and uncomfortable.

"(Y/N)-chan! It's okay, angel, I am here! What the hell did that bastard do to you?! You look so cold!"

"Sanji, I want out of this block of ice... Please get me out..."

(Y/N) didn't sound okay. She was begging earnestly. Her smile was wobbly and close to crying.

Sanji reached for her quickly, holding her head between his hands very gently to not irritate her skin that had been already damaged by the coldness of the ice.

(Y/N) was partly trapped inside a block of ice, which meant that her torso and one leg were trapped inside the ice but her other leg, arms and head were out.

She was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of colorful pants. Sanji wished that she had been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, because he could see that the ice was biting into her exposed skin painfully.

(Y/N) sniffled, a few tears rolling down her face.

"(Y/N)", Sanji said, looking at her with emphatetic eyes, inviting her to lean on him emotionally. He needed to comfort (Y/N) before they could start the process of getting her out of the ice. Sanji wasn't even sure how they would free her from this trap safely. His head was empty. His own helplessness made him hold (Y/N)'s head like it was the most important thing in the world to do, because he felt desperate to do something useful.

(Y/N) let out a contained sob. More followed. She cried pathetically, like a scared child. Each sob was slow and heavy, followed with deep breath in. Sanji welcomed each sob with understanding and warm gentle hands, focusing desperately on paying attention to her feelings and making her feel cared for.

(Y/N) looked at his face in the middle of her crying. She made eye contact with Sanji. Sanji radiated comfort and understanding. (Y/N) closed her eyes with relief and let out a tired worn out breath before she continued sobbing.

Sanji could see it in her reaction. The relief, the decision to trust and relax. He praised her for trusting him, stroked her hair softly and continued to stay with her.

He could hear people gather behind him. He turned to look at the crew who had arrived to the scene.

"Help her", Sanji begged, managing to keep his voice stable.

Franky took out a flame thrower. The others seemed to agree that it was the best option.

"Don't worry. You are going to be free soon", Sanji told (Y/N) quietly.

[hederasgarden]

I wonder if Lucius and reader ever shared stories of their lives before Rome. They’ve obvi talked about it before, but of course the longer the spend together the closer they get

I’m imagining a warm summer night, both of them curled on the cot swapping tales of chickens and fishing nets and quiet moments of loves lost 🥺

They certainly have! Your ask inspired a little drabble that I will post soon but for now, here's a little glimpse. This story takes place between Ab Initio and Post tenebras lux.

As you begin to drift off, Lucius's breath stirs the back of your head, soft and uneven. Then, a groan escapes him, a low sound of pain from the brutal toll the arena has taken on his body. You reach back instinctively, your fingers grazing his hip in a silent question.

"I am well," he reassures you, his voice rough but steady.

You fall silent again, blinking sleepily at the wall, but after a moment, his voice breaks the stillness. "You have been quiet today," he observes.

You don’t answer him at first, weighing whether to share your thoughts. You know that if you brush him off, he won’t push. He’ll leave you alone, but tonight, you find, you don’t want that.

"The memories are...close today," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucius shifts behind you, moving to wrap his thick fingers around your forearm where it rests against the bed. The gentle pressure of his touch brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly blink them away,

"Tell me about them," he says, his tone gentle. “If you wish.”

“I do not know where to start,” you admit. 

"Something happy, perhaps?"

You exhale slowly, his suggestion tugging an unexpected memory to the surface.

"I was not always a fisherman’s wife," you begin, your gaze fixed on the uneven stone wall. "I was a merchant's daughter, destined for a different life. But then...I met him."

The thought of your husband is both painful and beautiful. He seems so young in your memories, even though you only lost him a short time ago. 

“I was never supposed to marry someone like him,” you continue. “But I loved him. Gods…” You let out a soft, watery laugh, a mix of sorrow and affection. “And his family took me in like I was theirs all along.”

Lucius’s fingers trace the soft skin of your wrist in a comforting, quiet gesture that urges you to continue.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Blaster - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day Twenty-Three of Pedrotober: Din Djarin Pedrotober Hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Rating: The fluffiest fluff that ever did fluff.

Word Count: 1261

a/n: I actually really want a Loth-cat now, despite the fact that I already have three very real cats. I need more, obviously. Also writing this was wild for me because I got my start in writing by writing Star Wars fanfic, and...have since forgotten all proper terminology. Oh well. Also breaking some mando rules here but we don't care because we just want to see our man's face!

You heard it before you saw it, lurking somewhere in the house and waking you from slumber with the loud clang of something crashing in the kitchen. Din was out of bed in an instant, blaster already in hand as he rushed from your bed in the direction of the noise. Your first instinct is to check on Grogu, but you breathe a sigh of relief when you find him still peacefully sleeping in his hammock.

Another crash echoes down the hall, causing you to wince, but Grogu thankfully doesn't stir. When you make your way to the kitchen, you find your partner standing in the middle of the room, a grumpy expression written all over his face. There's a spattering of pans littering the floor around him, the obvious cause of the noise.

"I think it's a Loth-cat," Din explains, eyes still darting around the room trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. "Pretty sure it went behind the table."

You move toward the table in question, crouching down to look beneath the surface, to find what can only be described as the planet's most adorable Loth-cat. "Found it," you inform him with a hushed tone, trying your best not to scare the creature further. Bright beady eyes stare at you fearfully, but you coo at it, reaching out a cautious hand for it to sniff.

At first, the cat begins to inch toward you, but the second Din stops at your side, it backs closer to the wall. "It's gotta go," he reminds you, already aware of the thought lingering in the back of your mind. "It cannot stay here."

"Din," you look at him with indignation. "She's so cute though."

"I don't care if she's cute," he insists, already heading toward the storage room around the corner. You know he's gone to grab one of the many traps he has stored there, remnants of a life he no longer lives. "It's got to go."

You sigh, turning back to the cowering creature. She slowly works her way toward you again, less hesitant now that Din has left the room, sniffing at your outstretched hand. There's a flinch that runs through her body when you reach further to scratch along her massive ears, but then she relaxes at your careful touch.

When Din reappears with a cage in hand, you've already got the Loth-cat in your arms, more than content to accept the cuddles you willingly provide. "See, she's nice," you assert, a pleading tone to your voice that instantly makes him frown.

"We are not keeping the Loth-cat," he repeats, setting the cage on the table and opening the top. "Put her in."

Your eyes narrow, "and where do you think you're going to take her?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Away. Just far enough that she won't come back." You refuse to move for a moment, waiting for him to agree to the remainder of your silent request. He sighs, "and I'll make sure it's a nice area where she'll have plenty of food and water."

"And shelter," you add.

"And shelter."

"Dank farrik," Din mutters are you make your way around the side of the house. His voice is muffled by his helmet, worn whenever he's outside in an abundance of caution, even if he's already broken the creed for you, but it only takes a second for you to determine the cause of his frustration.

The Loth-cat is back.

While you and your partner worked on the exterior of your small home, Grogu had taken to playing in the yard, doing his best to stack rocks into towers using the force, which he'd then promptly knock over before beginning again. Now, however, he was strictly focused on moving the small rocks around while the familiar creature chased them across the dirt.

"She's back!" you exclaim, setting down the equipment box you'd been carrying. "How far did you take her last night?"

"Not far enough, obviously," Din mutters, heading toward the speeder where the crate still sits. You move closer to Grogu, quickly scooping up the cat in your arms. She wrestles with you until she realizes who has captured her, promptly settling into your embrace with a soft purring noise.

Grogu watches with curiosity, reaching one of his tiny hands out toward her. You drop to the ground next to him, crossing your legs underneath you as you teach him how to gently pet her fluffy, spotted ears the way you've already determined she loves. "Careful, Grogu. We want to be gentle."

He shies back when the Loth-cat makes a grumbling noise, directed not at Grogu, but at Din, who has reappeared with the cage in hand. "Come on, put her back in."

"Din, she obviously found her way back to us for a reason," you point out, determination beginning to set into your shoulders. "Plus, I think it would be good for Grogu."

You can't see his expression, hidden by his helmet, but you know his eyes are rolling. "In the crate, now," he instructs again.

"You're really going to make me put her in there?"

His nod is almost imperceptible, but another moment of silent understanding passes between you, and you let Grogu pet the cat once more before carefully placing her behind the wire of the cage. "Food and water," you insist once more, closing the gate as you stare at the man you love.

"And shelter," he repeats back, loading the cat into the speeder as you hoist Grogu into your arms, the two of you waving goodbye until the dust settles around you.

"No."

"Oh come on. This is the third time she's shown up here, Din. And just look at them." You point at the way Grogu is curled up with the Loth-cat in his hammock. How they both managed to fit in there, you're unsure, but stranger things have certainly happened in your lives. "I think she's meant to be here, with us."

Your partner retreats from Grogu's room and moves to sit on the edge of your bed. "That or she just wants our food."

You tilt your head in agreement as you sway closer to him, standing between his spread legs to rest your arms across his shoulders. "Perhaps. But she obviously makes Grogu happy. And she makes me happy, and I think she'd make you happy too if you just let her."

"It's a Loth-cat." He's unimpressed by your reasoning. "One that clearly doesn't know how to stay away."

"Can you blame her? I couldn't stay away either," you point out, cupping his face in your hands to ensure he's listening.

Din shakes his head. "That's different. You're not a cat."

"I think I can be a lot more cat-like than you think," you challenge before climbing onto his lap, curling around him, and kneading your fingers into his back. He's laughing before you know it, and as he falls back against the bed, taking you with him, it's already obvious that you've won the argument.

"I'm not going to be the one feeding her or brushing her or cleaning up her fur, got it?"

You nod, kissing him on the cheek as he rolls you onto your back. "Got it. Only ask you to feed her and brush her and clean up her fur."

He rolls his eyes for you to see this time, but kisses you anyway, and if you happen to find little Blaster curled up in his lap more often than not, you don't say anything about it.

[noirsdoll]

I‘m so sorry for asking but holy fuck, would you consider making a part 2 to the prison!jimmy drabble? Tugged at my heartstrings aahhhgh…

I wouldn‘t be surprised if their relationship was strained afterwards…,., but I‘d love to read more.. ur writing is exquisite ♥️♥️

thank you for enjoying!! here’s a part two 😋 cw for referenced abuse and mentions of drugs and gangs. read the first part here.

You’re standing on your front porch, watching the kids play soccer on the street. The ball’s tattered at the seams, the thread dragging behind it like a bridal train. One kid goes to kick the ball and his sole goes with it, hitting his friend square in the chest.

They all laugh about it and hound the kid, but you frown, drumming your nails on the mug of your morning coffee and turning to head back inside. You come face to face with Jimmy standing in the doorway in a tank top, scratching his stomach and blinking wearily at the sun.

“Can you come in? I need to… talk with you.” It’s mumbled into his shoulder, but you catch the drift.

Nodding, you head inside, closing the screen mesh and door behind you. You follow him into the living room, past the fist-sized holes in the wall, the cracks spider-webbing up to the ceiling. The ones that have narrowly missed your face.

He sits on the coffee table rather than the couch, right across from you. With his arms revealed, you have a better glimpse of his new tattoos, crude drawings and cursive words you haven’t gotten close enough to make sense of.

Jimmy slides a ring off his finger, messing around with it in his hand. “So… I can’t find work, ‘cause I’m a… y’know.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Sex offenders aren’t exactly top of the list to get hired. 

“But I talked to a couple of guys down the block and they wanted to, uh, add me to their circuit.”

Putting together the pieces about the sort of people in your neighbourhood, you swallow the budding lump in your throat. ”You wanna deal, Jim? You just got out of jail, God. I can’t do this again—,” Your voice raises in pitch. You just got him back and now he’s going to leave you here alone, again.

“Calm the fuck down, alright? I didn’t say I was taking it.”

“But you have to, right?” You had a feeling something like this would happen when he got back, that he wouldn’t be able to escape the hand he was dealt. 

Jimmy shakes his head. “There’s other work. But it just doesn’t pay nearly as much as this.”

“Yeah, that’s how they rake you in.” You put your hands on your knees, getting to your feet. “I’m not listening to this. You’re just throwing your life away a second time.”

He makes a sound of frustration, calling out to the back of your head. “You’re a fucking headache sometimes, you know that? I'm trying, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I wanted you to get clean, be good.” You wrap your arms around yourself, itching for a cigarette. “Where’s that guy you used to talk to? The captain, Graham, Glint—”

“Grant,” he corrects, annoyed, “and no, we’re not talking anymore.”

“What did you do?”

He grimaces. “It wasn’t my fault. He took that bitch’s side. Wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Sounds like a smart guy,” you mumble. 

Jimmy’s eyes flare. “The fuck did you say?”

“Nothing.” You bite your tongue, searching for your cigarettes in your pockets, only turning up with nicotine gum. “Did you take my cigarettes?”

Jimmy clears his throat. “There you go, always fucking accusing me of shit.” He gets to his feet, rolling his eyes. “No, I didn’t steal your stupid cigarettes, babe.”

“Sorry,” you say half-heartedly. You search the room for your keys. “I’m gonna go get some more then. We’re out of milk and eggs anyways.” Snatching your car keys off the counter, you take for the door.

“Hey.”

You turn to him, lost in your own train of thought.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He looks at you pointedly. 

“Oh, yeah. Do you want anything from the store?”

Jimmy just sighs, walking closer. “I don’t want you leaving this house mad at me.” He stops in front of you, leaning till you’re face to face. “Give me a kiss.”

You give him a peck, but Jimmy grabs a hold of your waist and deepens it. His tongue pushes into your mouth as he presses you tight against his chest. It’s reminiscent of the old Jimmy you loved so much, making heat coil deep in your stomach, enough to have your head spinning when he pulls back. 

You wipe your mouth in partial shock. “I’ll get you some breath mints,” you say, fighting a smile.

Jimmy scoffs and smacks your ass on the way out of the door. “Bitch,” he mumbles.

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time We Went To The County Fair”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: pure fluff, frenemies dynamic, emetophobics be cautious (no one actually gets sick it’s just mentioned), Sukuna is trying so hard to be nice

Word Count: 2.89k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna always tries to give off the vibe that he’s too big and bad for anything. Everything is beneath him, everyone is merely a nuisance, and this Ferris wheel in particular is just too bland and boring for his tastes.

He acts like you held a gun to his head and forced him to come with you to the fair, but you really didn’t; if anything he forced you to let him tag along. You just happened to see a flyer in the mailbox and brought up that you were planning to go and he could tag along if he wanted to, the last thing you expected was for him to immediately start lacing up his boots and stuff his wallet into the pocket of his ripped black jeans, asking you a nonchalant “You ready?” not even a minute after you suggested it.

And now here you are, a decent train ride later and you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel sitting across from each other, looking down at the colorful lights of food stalls and amusement rides below you. You wanted to go on the Ferris wheel first since the sun is beginning to set, the sky turning shades of pink and orange as a gentle breeze chills the evening air.

Sukuna’s gruff and uninterested voice breaks the peaceful silence, “You could’ve looked out the window at home for free.”

You’re scooted to the edge of your little cart, elbows perched on the rusty metal railing and your cheek rested on your palm, looking longingly between the colorful lights of the roller coasters down below and the changing hues of the sky, “The view’s not this pretty at home.”

All he can respond with is a hum, his arms stretched out across the railing behind him as he leans his back against the hard metal wall of the gently swinging cart. From the corner of your eye you’d swear you could see him watching you, but when you shift your gaze towards him his head has already turned to look down towards the carnival beneath you.

He outstretches his arm and points toward one of the rides, colorful lights spotted around the outside of its spaceship style design begin to transform into streams of light as the ride starts to spin and twirl around, “We’re doing that one next, too fuckin’ boring just sitting around.”

You turn your body towards him and give him a sarcastic grin, “What if all the spinning makes me sick?”

He scoffs, gently kicking your leg across from him with his combat boot, “If you throw up I’m pretending that I don’t know you.”

“Boo.” You roll your eyes at him and look back towards the fair as the Ferris wheel begins to spin. You reach your arm out of the cart and point at a ride in the distance, a large boat shaped contraption swinging back and forth before turning completely upside down, the passengers' screams echoing through the open air, “Would you go on that one?”

He gives you a sly grin, “Only if you go on it too, you didn't drag me along just to watch, did you?”

“I didn’t drag you here, you might as well have begged to come with me.”

“Oh fuckin’ please,” He leans towards you, propping his elbows on his knees and looking up at you, “You gave me those ‘lil puppy dog eyes when you showed me the flyer.” He mimics a dramatic pout, making you groan and press your sneaker onto his chest to push him away.

“You’re unbearable.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The metal steps creak below both of your feet as you and Sukuna step into the spaceship ride; the walls are round and covered in separate metal panels for each person to stand with their back against, and in the middle of the ride there’s a booth for the operator with large buttons and levers. You and Sukuna find two open panels on the wall and stand in front of them as the doors to the ride slide shut, leaving you both and everyone else blocked off from the festivities going on outside.

The operator looks bored as they flip a switch above their head, the lights dying off before you hear the clicking sound of buttons being pushed, rainbow lights streaming along the ceiling in swirling patterns above your head. Blaring loud techno music starts to blast from massive speakers in the operator’s booth as you feel your balance start to waver. Within seconds everyone’s backs are slammed into the wall, fits of giggles and startled screams surrounding you in the ride.

You turn your head to look at Sukuna and he’s already grinning at you, he tries to yell something to you but the music is far too loud to hear him. You open your mouth to yell “What?!” but instead a yelp is ripped from your chest as your entire body slides up the wall. He points up towards you and laughs, you try to kick him in the shoulder but the pressure of the ride spinning is keeping you effectively plastered to the wall, hardly able to move at all.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is somehow barely affected by it; deciding that it’s time to show off as he plants his palms onto the wall behind him and bends his knees to be completely off the ground. He stumbles back slightly on his first attempt to push himself up, but by the second try he’s crouching completely upright on the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream out to him, but he can hardly hear you over the loud music and playful screams of everyone on the ride.

He’s got a massive grin plastered on his face as he stands to his full height so casually, as if the pressure of gravity just doesn’t affect him, taking a broad step over your stiff body to stand with his large combat boots on either side of your hips. He takes a knee over you, wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck and the other behind the small of your back, leaning forward and yelling into your ear.

“You’re coming with me.”

It feels like you’re going to fly back into the wall as he pulls you into his arms, his strong grip keeping your body flush against his as you try to raise your arms enough to wrap them around his neck.

“You’re insane! Put me down!”

You can feel his breathy laughter on the crook of your neck as he lifts you up to stand with him on the wall, his hands never loosening their protective grip on you even as your feet plant themselves on the wall. He’s holding you so close, you’re not sure if your head is spinning more from him or the carnival ride. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, your head pressed flush against his broad chest and tilted up towards the flickering lights adorning the ceiling.

“Not so bad, see?” You can hear the grin in his voice, his lips brushing against your ear while he speaks to you, “Not gonna drop you, calm down.”

Can he feel how fast my heart is beating?

The pressure in your head starts to feel relieved, but at the cost of your balance as you stumble forward. Sukuna completely wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you off your feet, taking long strides backwards off the wall and back onto the floor as the ride slows to a gradual stop.

“Hey!” The operator is screaming over the music as the large doors slide back open, “You two! Off!”

Sukuna chuckles into your ear as he drops you onto your feet, “Oops.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I can’t take you anywhere-“

“Ugh, how was I supposed to know that guy would be such a pussy?”

“Sukuna!” You slap his arm, “You’re gonna get us kicked out!”

He just huffs and rolls his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as you both walk side by side through the fair. You knew he was nothing but trouble, and you feel a little stupid for assuming he wouldn’t drag you down into his bullshit with him, but you’re stuck with him now; at least until your lease is up. Maybe you shouldn’t invite him out with you anywhere after this, but when you glance up at his stupid grumpy expression you get butterflies.

With a face like that it’s no wonder he gets away with anything.

He’s so… annoying. That’s what you like to tell yourself; it’s annoying that you can’t stay mad at him, that he gives you that smirk that makes your heart race, that he held you like that on the carnival ride. He drives you insane in all the best and worst ways, either waking you up in the middle of the night by being loud and obnoxious coming home drunk from a concert, or making you go crazy wishing he was home with you while he was out with his friends.

“Are you even fuckin’ listening?” He snaps you out of your trance.

“No.” You huff, breaking your gaze from his. Did you doze off while staring at him?

“Brat,” He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you towards a pop up stall, the stall walls lined with balloons and stuffed animals, “You beat me in this and I’ll… behave for the next one.”

You scoff at him, “No you won’t.”

A small smile creeps onto the corners of his lips, “… Yeah you’re right.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, but he sidesteps in front of you, leaning down to match your height, “Tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

He smirks, “Winner picks out a tattoo for the loser.”

You laugh right in his face, “Absolutely fucking not!”

“What?” He gives you an exaggerated pout, “You don’t trust me?”

You cross your arms and glare up at him, “You would make me get some kind of gang tattoo.” You say sarcastically.

He mutters under his breath, “Shit, am I that predictable?”

“Sukuna!” You kick him in the shin.

���Fine, fine. Piercing.”

You look over at the plastic machine guns mounted onto the edge of the stall, noting a toppled over “out of order” sign next to the red gun. Maybe it’s a bad idea to humor him, but you know damn well he’d pick that red gun over the baby pink ones surrounding it, you might be able to play dirty if he hasn’t noticed the sign that fell over.

A grin paints your lips as you look back at him, “You’re on.”

His head cocks to the side slightly, “Really?” He looks genuinely surprised, but definitely not disappointed, “Shit, that was easy.”

He strides over to the stall, planting himself right in front of the red gun, exactly where you want him. You suppress your smile as much as you can as you walk up beside him, wrapping your finger around the trigger of the pink gun next to him. He’s looking down at you so cocky as the game attendant counts down for you both to start.

“Three!”

“You know…” He leans down towards you to speak into your ear.

“Two!”

“I know a guy who does eyelid piercings.” He states smugly.

“One!”

Like clockwork, you start peppering through the balloons while his gun immediately jams.

His brows furrow in frustration and you look towards him, giving him a mischievous smirk, “You’ll have to give me his number.”

As the game comes to a fast end, you learn that Sukuna is such a sore loser, grumbling about how that was “fucking rigged” and that you’re “a dirty little cheater,” but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You doubt he’ll hold up his end of the bet, and you’re not really that concerned about it to be honest, that frustrated look on his face is more than enough of a prize.

“Yeah yeah,” You giggle, “I’m just the worst huh? I’m gonna run to the bathroom, how about you win me something while I’m gone?”

He shoots a glare down at you, “No promises.”

“Oh yeah, because you fucking suck at these games, right?” Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to keep a straight face, you just can’t help but smile, it’s a nice change of pace for you to be the one getting on his nerves for once.

“Such a fuckin’ brat.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Something about Sukuna is suspicious when you meet him back at the games. His grin has returned once again and he’s holding one of his hands behind his back. His eyes light up when they catch yours, taking long strides to meet with you.

He leans down to be eye level with you, keeping his hand tucked away behind him, “Close your eyes.”

“You didn’t…” You look up to his eyes but his gaze flickers away from you.

“Shut up. Close your eyes and give me your hand.”

You let out a sigh, shutting your eyes and holding your hand out in front of you. Your brows furrow in confusion as something cold and squishy lands in your palm, “What the fuck…?”

“You know how you said you wanted a pet?”

You open your eyes and are greeted with… a goldfish. A little tied off plastic baggie dripping condensation onto your skin as the tiny fish swims in panicked circles, “Sukuna!”

“What?” He stands up straight, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I thought you’d like it.”

“When I said I wanted a pet I meant, like, a dog!”

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, “Well you won’t let me get a cane corso, so-“

“Because they’re a hundred and fifty pounds.” You mutter over him.

“Say hello to Brat Junior.”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He’s definitely not kidding if the grin on his face is saying anything, he takes a step forward and pokes the bag, watching the fish squirm inside, “He’s got your attitude.”

“Oh my god,” You rub your temple with your free hand, “We need to go get a fish tank.”

“We’ve got bowls at the house.”

“No! We are not mistreating this fish, asshole.”

“Don’t call him fish, he has a name.” He declares sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

You mutter curses under your breath, “Brat Junior needs a tank. A real tank, with a filter.” You pull Sukuna by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him along behind you, “There’s a pet store around the corner, let’s go before they close. And you’re paying.”

“Hey, why am I paying for this shit? It’s your pet.”

“It was your stupid idea!”

You both leave the loud chaos of the fair, walking along the quiet sidewalks to the pet store. The skies have gone dark now, the moon making itself at home above you as you cradle your beloved Brat Junior in both of your palms, trying to keep the water in his bag from swaying too much.

You and Sukuna bicker the whole walk there until you make it to the sliding glass doors of the pet store, quiet music playing through the speakers as you walk across the shiny white floors to the fish section. You both split up so he can pick up a tank while you sort through food, but shortly after he walked away he’s already making his way back to you.

“We’re gonna have to flush Brat Junior.” He says plainly.

You defensively clutch the fish close to your chest, “Absolutely not!”

He rests his elbow on one of the shelves lining the wall, leaning his side against it, “Then you’re paying for half of the fish tank.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “You broke now?”

“Lady at the counter said he’ll get,” He straightens his fingers on each hand, placing them together like a prayer before parting them about a foot away from each other, “This big.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I wish I was joking, the tank is $600.”

You blow a raspberry, slumping your back against the wall and looking down at the goldfish in your palms. You’re silent for a moment, but then you let out a reluctant sigh, “I’ll pay half, but you’re carrying it on the train ride home.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You hold your apartment door open, watching Sukuna maneuver the giant 40 gallon fish tank through the small doorway, “Got it?”

He grunts in annoyance, “A little help would be nice.”

“Ooh, about that,” You hold the little plastic baggie up in your palm, “My hands are full with the baby.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, carrying the fish tank into the tiny apartment, “Should’ve fuckin’ flushed him.”

You let out a mock gasp, cupping the goldfish in both of your hands and holding it up to your face, cooing at it, “Did you hear that? Your father doesn’t love you.”

Sukuna placed the tank onto a long empty table against the wall before flopping on his back onto the couch. His eyes flicker between you and the fish for a moment, a faint smile creeping onto his lips.

“I knew you’d like that little fucker.”

A/N: Fun fact did u know that those fair fish grow to be 12 inches long? Unfortunately this fic is based on true events of when my boyfriend and I won TWO OF THEM at the fair and had to spend $600 on a fish tank for them (rip my wallet). Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[merbear25]

Reaching out

There have been little things he's been doing to make you wonder if everything is alright with him. You want to let him know you're there for him in a way he'll understand.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons (love languages) + drabbles,

Mihawk, Corazon, Law

Mihawk: Love languages: quality time and acts of service. He knows that actions speak louder than words ever could. Showing him that you care by taking notice in subtlety and finding ways to lighten the load which is weighing on him goes a long way. He'd enjoy doing certain activities together, but sometimes prefers just being near you and quietly doing something seperately.

The wind was still, leaving a sense of discomfort as the muggy air thickened across the grounds. Creeping across the lake and through the trees, you could hardly bear to stand outside in the sweltering heat for much longer. Waiting on him wasn't the issue; it was his unsual tardiness. You wouldn't have thought anything of it if it had been a half hour to an hour over the time you were expecting him, but it'd already been three.

You rationalized why he'd be held up, yet that didn't ease your troubled thoughts. Pacing along the entryway, you see him approaching in the distance. Despite having faith that the world's greatest swordsman would return unscathed, the relief you felt at that moment was immeasurable.

Stood by the door, you were itching to ask him what had happened. However, when his eyes fell on you, apathy was brewing behind them, signalling to you not to impose your burning questions on him.

There had been quite a few times you received that look from him. The two of you had come to an understanding about how to maneuver through any outside stress―letting each other process and coming back to it when you were ready.

Respecting this, you watched him march out to the ruins behind the castle. In spite of the climbing heat index, he pushed through it to drill new techniques.

The sweat was trickling down his temples; the shine appearing on his skin was noticeable even from where you were standing within the kitchen. Gathering a bottle of water and a book, you went out to join him―simply holding a desire to be near him.

He remained focused while you approached the area, as well as when you sat yourself down on a turned over pillar cracking open your book. Putting a pin in his practice, he turned to you still refraining from speaking. You returned his gaze and offered him the water you'd brought.

"It's blistering hot out. Thought you might be thirsty."

Accepting your thoughtful gesture, he took a seat next to you. After a few more moments in silence, he felt ready to talk about what happened earlier. Telling you calmly about what was on his mind, you held on to each word―being sure to listen attentively.

Corazon: Love languages: physical touch and words of affirmation. He'd adore hugging and cuddling with those closest to him; He'd want them to feel comforted and safe when they're with him, letting them pour their hearts out if that was what they needed. Compliments and kind words: he'd love to see your face light up from them, knowing that he'd made you smile would make his day.

Dawn was just beginning to peek through the curtains, allowing rays of sun to dance upon the floorboards and walls. With your room being illuminated by them, they acted as a natural alarm clock, giving you no choice but to get an early start to your day.

Stummbling out of your room, you stretched your arms as you yawned away the remnants of last night's dreams. You caught a glimpse of Rosinante down the hall followed by some commotion from his study.

Knocking first, you were permitted entry. He was rummaging through the papers on his desk and in the drawers. Upon asking what he was looking for, he gave a simple, "Don't worry about it," as an answer.

Despite his nonchalance, you were quick to assume that he was lying―trying to keep something from you to protect you perhaps. "Is it the same thing you were looking for the other day?"

With a huff, he confirmed, "But it isn't here either."

"Let me help you then," you offered, stepping further into the room.

"That won't be necessary," his abruptness took you aback.

The absence of warmth in his voice was troubling, though you didn't want to pry. He'll come around when he's ready, you thought to yourself as you inched your way out of the room, hoping that time would come rather quickly.

Those glistening trails of light were now fading with the day, allowing the shadows of night to replace them. Rosinante maintained his secrecy, which kept you at a distance. To prevent overstepping, you gave him the space he needed to complete whatever task he'd set out to accomplish.

Your encounter in his study had long since passed and you still hadn't heard so much as a peep from him. By now, he would've at least come over to chit chat, even if it wasn't about anything pressing. Him being uncharacteristically somber for this long was causing you to worry.

Searching for him through out the premises, you found him at the desk in his room. He was slumped over his journal, which was still open to the entry he'd been writing. Tenderly looking down at the wearied man, you fetched a blanket to drape over him.

His breaths grew shallower at its added weight, and while seeing how much he'd worn himself out due to the stress of his mystery assignment, you bent down to hug him being mindful not to wake the gentle giant.

When releasing the gesture of companionship, he caught your hand, holding it firmly. Caressing it with his other one, he made a gentle request, "Could you stay with me a bit longer?"

Wholeheartedly agreeing to this, you add, "I'll always be here for you."

Law: Love languages: acts of service (gift giving to an extent) and words of affirmation. He understands he's not the greatest at expressing his feelings, which is why he'd rather show you that he cares. That being said, if you do a good job at something he won't ignore your hard work. Even though giving him compliments or praise in any way would make him flustered, he wouldn't hate it―he'd probably like it.

The Polar Tang felt colder than usual. Thinking back, you noticed that Law hadn't been around much: not coming to eat with the others at mealtimes, choosing to spend more time alone, withdrawing into his study. Long days and nights at sea were making his absence more apparent.

You didn't want to push him, though you couldn't help feeling worried about his current behaviors―spending this much time alone wouldn't be healthy for anyone, especially one whose mind tended to wander to darker depths.

After fetching a serving of that night's supper, you knocked on his door. Law grumbled a, "Come in."

Upon seeing the captain in his sleep deprived state, your heart sank. You didn't know the reason, and you refrained from prying, but wanting to help him was something you couldn't just ignore.

Looking at the state of his desk, it could be deduced that he hadn't been taking care of his basic needs; the devotion he had to what he'd been working on was consuming him.

Placing the food on a cleared space, you informed him that the meal was nice and hot for him. You went out quickly to grab a glass of water for him, as well. "In case you're thirsty," you added, smiling at him.

He kept his thanks short, making you shift your weight. Only wanting to let him know how much he meant to you, and to everyone else, you told him, "We're so lucky to have such a dedicated captain. Others could only dream of being on a crew like this."

Placing his pen down, he still had yet to look up at you. Feeling like you were overstaying your welcome, you told him you hoped he enjoyed his meal, gently closing the door behind you.

You figured if he ever wanted to reach out to any of you, he'd do it when he was ready, but you still wished to help him understand that he had people who adored him.

Later that night, he came to find you. With him, he brought something small. Stopping in front of you, he handed it to you, "I forgot to give this to you sooner."

Accepting it, you saw that it was one of types of chocolate you'd been raving about. Asking what the occasion was, he simply responded, "You said it was something you liked."

[bludbaff]

Just to be seen by my eyes | Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

900 wc | no cws | drabble |

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s easy to look up and wonder. To ponder everything up until now, think about how things could have been so different to how they are now.

But, what’s the point, right?

Why wonder what could have been?

Something thick you can’t swallow down, feeling as it crawls up and up and up- a bittersweet lump of regret and guilt that simply won’t go away.

It’ll choke you one day. Soon enough, you’ll have to realise that the past can’t be changed and that whatever action you take from now on won’t change the things you’ve said and done. Set in stone, unmoving.

It’s easier to pretend not to care, to detach yourself from those feelings entirely, rip them from your chest and shove them in a deep - dark corner far out of reach. If you pretend they’re not there, then they’re not, right?

Out of sight - out of mind.

It would be hypocritical to chastise Riley for the way he speaks, or more specifically, the way he doesn’t. Of course he talks, but it’s never really more than what he has to say, he’s courteous enough but- it’s not what you want.

Really, you don’t know what you want, it’s not at all easy to try and form a coherent sentence telling him what exactly it is that you want from him. So it’s never mentioned, another thing thrown away - forgotten.

He comes and goes. Drifts somewhere between the dusk and dawn, never staying for more than a few hours before he’s gone again. A phantom- a Ghost, of course. Here one minute and then gone the next, you don’t blame him, not really.

Riley is moved by his guilt. That much is clear as day, he tries to look you in the eye, but he can’t; but you appreciate the gesture.

It stings all the same, but again, you can’t blame him, perhaps if the roles were reversed - you would do the exact same.

There’s a silver lining, isn’t there always?

Riley won’t look at you, so you can look at him, make up for all those years he hid behind that mask, he’d left that behind after the accident. You’d figured he thought it out of place here, unfair if you will, to come here and hide his face after what happened.

So you look, and you don’t feel at all guilty like you used to, even if you should.

Those odd instances of unintentionally catching a glimpse of your captains face, a slither of jawline or the back of his head, it’s nothing really - a crumb. Back then it seemed so huge, slapping yourself on the wrist, feeling as though it’s a violation of his privacy. Still the curiosity always lingered.

Look at you now, huh, ironic.

Irony is a cruel mistress it seems, a cruel twist of fate, led entirely by your selfish attempt to be bigger and better, ultimately it’s you who had paid for it.

Time passes slowly, for you, anyway. Maybe not for everyone else; seeing the same four walls day in and day out, eating the same things in a constant rotation because it’s easier on you, sleeping through the same re-runs of old shows because it’s one of the things you can vividly remember before everything happened.

You remember the trashy shows that you pretended to hate and that one movie that was always a favourite that you can still recite all the lines to; you remember vividly your first time shooting a rifle and the feelings that came along with it - the sickening anxiety mingling with the adrenaline that soon bloomed into a mean talent for sharpshooting and a record of headshots that bled whispers through the camp at night.

Whispers that fed your ego, made you believe you were invincible, a young naïveté that ultimately led to your downfall.

A self inflicted case of circumstance.

You startle from your place on the armchair when the front door swings open, a fierce gust of wind bringing with it leaves and rain droplets that scatter across the hardwood floor. Riley winces when the noise bounces through the emptiness of the flat, you see as his shoulders bunch and his face pinches together, a flash of clenched-white teeth blinding you for a split second.

He’s quick to shake the rain from his coat as he stands beyond the threshold of the door, quickly stepping inside and quietly placing all of the plastic bags his arms were laden with onto the floor.

“Sorry for all the noise” he grumbles. Gravel and smoke. Tone as dead as usual, but his face gives him away, always does.

You’ve noticed that a lot, that through the years of having his face hidden behind a mask, Riley hasn’t yet learned to hide his emotions. He’s never had to, he’s simply trained his voice to always sound so impassive - so uncaring. Yet his face will tell a thousand words, all the while he clings to this nonchalant facade.

He’s worried he’s frightened you, it’s clear in his eyes, the way his brows are pinched together, he’ll never say it - and you’ll never point it out.

Your lips quirk at one side, “it’s okay” it’s odd to hear your own voice half of the time. You don’t speak much these days, no need to unless Riley’s here, and the time spent between visits gradually grows longer and longer. One day you’re sure he’ll stop coming all together, leave you to wither away, destined to become one with the dust around you - forgotten.

[hisui-dreamer]

ode to the heir of the underworld

Pairing: Idia Shroud x gn!reader

Synopsis: you would always be willing to stay by his side, no matter how gloomy he might be

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for idia, bot proofread

Word count: 618

Notes: happy birthday idia!! fr he was the only character i hated when I started twst, but he's grown a lot of me ever since and seeing his dialogue is always so refreshing hahaha

Masterlist

Your lover is always nervous when he's talking to other people. And though it's a formidable shadow in his life, the rare moments of tranquillity that come with your presence hold a gentle beauty. The subtle relaxation, the easing of tense shoulders, and the softening of his guarded expressions—it warms your heart that he can breathe freely around you. In those fleeting instances, when his guard lowers, you see the true essence of his being, and it's in those vulnerable, unfiltered moments that your affection for him grows even deeper.

Your lover harbours a tempest within, a brewing storm that can be triggered by the smallest of things, though it's rarely aimed in your direction. It’s an anger that flares, but it's also a blaze that swiftly extinguishes itself, dissipating at the slightest touch of understanding or reassurance. You're slightly ashamed to admit it, but watching him burst into smoldering, golden flames is ever so slightly amusing.

Your lover holds his younger brother in the highest regard, showering him with unconditional adoration and protectiveness. He takes crafting custom upgrades, playing video games together, and doting on him with an earnestness that knows no bounds. It's incredibly heartwarming just how he's willing to go the distance just for his little brother.

Your lover has no boundaries in scientific creation when he is sparked by motivation. The dormant genius ignites within him, birthing ideas that defy the confines of convention. From the meticulous coding of new programs to the intricate design of futuristic gadgets, his creativity dances on the edge of brilliance. It's in these rare moments that you can see him fully as the technology genius he always was.

Your lover's excitement about the various games and anime that interest him truly rival a child. His eyes alight with a fervour that's infectious, and his words spill forth in a torrent, carrying with them a depth of knowledge and excitement that's utterly captivating. It's a large contrast between the gloomy man who always thinks the worst of every situation. In these moments where he allows himself to hope, you find yourself enchanted by the sheer intensity of his spirit, revelling in the privilege of glimpsing the vibrant core of his being.

Your love how, behind closed doors, he reveals a side that contrasts starkly with his reserved demeanour. He becomes the definition of affection and clinginess, seeking closeness and reassurance in your presence. His walls crumble, allowing vulnerability to emerge as he leans into cuddles, lingering embraces, and moments where he simply revels in your warmth. In these private spaces, he's unafraid to express his longing for connection, finding solace in the intimacy shared between you both, relishing every opportunity to be close and cherished.

Your love how he holds you as something delicate, a precious treasure he fears losing in the whirlwind of his own fears. In the quiet moments, he showers you with a tenderness that speaks volumes, his touch gentle as if afraid to break the fragile connection you share. He navigates your relationship with cautious steps, always nervously watching for signs of distance, a silent fear etched in his eyes that you might one day decide to leave. His actions, though at times hesitant, speak volumes of the depth of his affection, a love that seeks to protect and cherish every moment spent by your side.

Your lover is an enigmatic cosmos of emotions and complexities, a constellation of fears and passions, each shining with its unique brilliance. You share a love that dances amidst the stars, navigating the nebulae of his complexities, finding beauty in the intricate patterns of his soul.

Your lover, is none other than Idia Shroud.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

5k is so deserved! I constantly go back and reread your works and am always looking forward to what’s next ❤️❤️❤️

I’ve been having thoughts about a Hesh x femreader reunion request thats similar to your latest Keegan piece. Except reader was childhood friends with the Walker boys, but despite there being feelings between Hesh and reader they’re scared of confessing because of their friendship. they get separated when Odin happens, and both join the military and reunite during a joint Op with the Ghosts and readers team, and even after 10 years their feelings resurface and finally get together.

Can’t wait to see what you’ll write for all the requests!!

—To The Boy of My Childhood

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞

You remembered his kindness, above all. His big, pure, heart. Hesh wasn’t just someone you grew to know and then threw out like a pair of old socks, no, he was too good for that—a mix of playful boyishness and the makes of a fine man. You wished you could have told him how much he meant to you before it all just fell apart. 

Growing up near the Walker boys was a treat and a curse, not for yourselves, but for the adults—no one got in the way of you three. Late nights in the backyard, laughter keeping everyone up into the small hours. The fights and the near-instantaneous make-ups. 

The older years of deep-rooted attraction to the green-eyed boy of your youth.

David Hesh Walker had been everything you had ever wanted, and even when the ground shook and the word split, you still couldn’t tell him how you felt. But fate had plans for the two of you—it was only a matter of time. 

Ten years, to be exact.

You jump down from the helo, your knees taking the brunt of the weight from your gear as your team follows. Fort Santa Monica was a bustling stronghold right on the door of Federation occupation—enemies stalking like animals beyond the wall for a glimpse of weakness. The men and women here were anything but.

“On me!” You call out behind you, and the resounding rush of booted feet follows as you all move out along the helicopter pad swiftly. The unit you were assigned was given a simple task—assist the commanding Captain here and his men with wall defense to reduce the amount of casualties. 

Over the ten years of war, you’d honed yourself into something akin to a walking weapon. Found deliriously surviving in the remnants of the USA, your rage and anger gave you the skills you needed to still be alive when the soldiers found you; brought you back to civilization. It hadn’t taken much for you to sign up after that, thinking Hesh and his brother were dead. 

Hesh. God, you had loved him so much that the feeling hadn’t dimmed in the slightest even now. Being so close to home once more made you feel…strange. 

“Lieutenant!” One of the soldiers comes up to greet you all, shouting above the whir of blades—he was an older man with a shaved head and a large beard. “Welcome to Santa Monica!”

“Good to be here!” You call, a rifle hanging heavy on your chest. “Where do you need us, Sir?”

“Fall in, I’m bringin’ you to Scarecrow!” So you follow, leaving the sandy beach of the port and heading into the dense streets. There were civilians in this Fort, you knew, just beyond the checkpoint of fences. You have to wonder how they felt about this—trapped in a rat cage with the water and the war clamping to them tightly. 

“Heard your unit was well-known.” You’d learned the man’s name was Thomas Merrick—a Captain here. You blink at him, head tilting. “Scarecrow was eager to get you here, can’t say why.” 

“I was told you needed support at the wall, Captain,” you explain, brows furrowing. “Were my superiors mistaken?”

Merrick's brown eyes stare at you as you walk beside him, your men all speaking to one another from behind. 

“No,” is all you’re told. 

This ‘Scarecrow’ was known as only that, and your lips thin at the comment leveled at you. Strange. 

Your other men are shown their barracks, and you send them off to get rid of their packs and belongings while you continue on with Merrick to the control room—eager to meet this Captain and get real answers. 

When you get there, the second you push open the door and Merrick takes his leave, you’re greeted by one of the old faces that you could recognize anywhere. 

You freeze just three feet into the room, locking eyes with this mythical ‘Scarecrow’ but it wasn’t some great war strategist, at least, not as you know him.

“Mr. Walker?” You pause, blinking in confusion. Elias Walker—Hesh and Logan’s dad. Your heart constricts in your chest. 

He looks at you, a small smile on his stern face as his arms crossed, nodding his head. 

“Thought I recognized that name in my request for transfers.” 

“Holy shit,” you breathe, a grin breaking out over your face for the first time in ages. Part of you wanted to race and hug him—bathe in the comfort that his rare soft looks would bring you when you were younger…but you weren’t that kid anymore. Being alive was enough, and with the things you’d seen, it meant far more than anything else. Elias seemed to share that sentiment, as he walked over and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it. 

“How did…how are…” Your head shakes quickly, memories flooding back along with the pain. But there, in your chest, a flicker of hope—something more blooming back to life. “Logan?” Your voice is tiny, pleading as you pause, gazing into Elias’s eyes. “...Hesh?”

“I already called ‘em back in. They’ll be here soon.” He gives you a proud nod. “I’m glad you’re still here, Sweetheart.” 

You laugh, smile wobbling. 

Alive. Hesh was alive. 

Every wall you’d built falls the second boyish laughter echoes out from the halls. You turn, hearing feet move down the floor, closer and closer as your body stills like a statue. 

Alive. 

When a shoulder pushes open the door, you stop breathing as a far older David enters the room, Logan, as always, not far behind. 

He’s mature now, with a beanie over his short brown hair and the presence of a grown man holding down responsibilities—he was smirking back and his brother, saying in a voice that haunts your dreams, “Think we should tell him what Riley found today, Logan?” 

The younger brother stops short, locks eyes with you, and his body goes as tight as a fishing line. 

Hesh’s brows furrow. “Logan?” He turns to you and those green eyes go confused for a moment, lips going thin. It’s a flash of recognition that re-ignites them—a flicker of something long past before they snap wide with fierce realization.

Blinking quickly, the man watches you, hands at his sides jerking forward by a millimeter as if to grab for you at even a single glance. No one speaks for a long, long time, and maybe you don’t want them to. Hesh and you are locked in a look of pure pain and elation—a dance of life and death. 

There aren’t any words for it beyond the sudden mad scramble for the other’s hold. 

You collide in a sharp breath and a hand to the back of your head—keeping you to him as you both grasp for purchase; for a glimpse of your childhood back.

“Jesus Christ,” Hesh breathes, anchoring you to him as his chest sputters. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Hesh,” you whimper through a sobbing laugh. “You son of a bitch, I should throttle you.”

He scoffs wetly into your ear, hands quivering and voice cracking. 

“Me? If I remember, Doll, you were the one to take that tumble down the hill—I…I tried to find you, y’know that? I swear, I didn’t want to leave but I—”

You pull back and slam your lips to his. 

It was far better than an ‘I love you’ when he melted and grappled you closer.

[itchytitss]

Thinking about mural artist Ellie

(Accidentally went overboard and made this way longer than my usual drabbles. oopsies)

After the most recent town council meeting, the residents of Jackson have come to the conclusion that their community isn’t as vibrant and friendly as they want. The walls around the town are seriously lacking in some colour and the walls of the newly renovated kindergarten needs some decoration.

So naturally Ellie was chosen for the job. She’s shown a few big walls for murals, and little spots for smaller accent paintings. Dumpsters, old fire hydrants, electricity poles and such.

Now, you wouldn’t say that Ellie is your friend, exactly. But she’s… something.

She shares snacks with you at movie nights. She brings back little trinkets she finds form her patrols and gifts them to you. She checks up on you and compliments your hair and outfits. You’ve even caught her sketching you as you read to the kids at the library.

Something about her lingering voice and soft eyes sets off a warmth in you that you can’t quite describe. It doesn’t help that she seems to be everywhere now when you go on errands across Jackson.

You see the way her eyes wander as she watches you pass. Her paintbrush slipping from her grip slightly as she looks down at you from her place on the ladder. You wave to her every day, taking note of her eventual progress on the murals.

You stop to talk to her some times, to check on her on the particularly hot days. You can’t help but stare as she climbs down from her ladder, her bare arms glisten in the warm sun, her tattoo covered in stray swatches of paint.

You force yourself to not look down as she stretches, her tank top riding up her stomach, showing off her toned abdomen.

“Thanks.” She mumbles wearily as she takes the bottle of cold water from you. Your eyes follow the drops of water that roll down her chin onto her neck as she chugs the water. Before she can even hand back the bottle, you’re gone. Having swiftly walked away in (not so) mild panic.

When the day comes for Ellie to show off her finished work around town, the townspeople gather around and congratulate her for a job well done. You stand at the back of the group, hoping to catch a glimpse of the small details everyone keeps raving about.

You notice Ellie watching you. Why you? In the crowd of a dozen people praising and looking at her work, she watches you. Eager to see your reaction the most.

Later that day, you come back to the paintings to get a better look, thanks to the lack of crowds. You tour all of Ellie’s work, smiling at the small monkeys playing with lab equipment on the side of the pharmacy, looking up at the giraffes in the alleyway behind the bar, and admiring the floral mandalas that travel up the street lights. But what really catches your eyes is the details on her murals.

You visit the kindergarten mural. A colourful painting with bees and butterflies. You crouch down to look at the fine details of the woman planting flowers in a garden not unlike your own. Her garden boots, bright red. Just like yours.

You smile at the whimsical and colourful mural of the children’s section in the library. A landscape of a forest home to a unicorn, fairies, gnomes and even a dragon flying in the distance overhead. In the corner where the forest meets the sea, is a mermaid, brushing her hair on the rocks. Her hair similar to yours. The necklace around her neck much like your own.

Finally, you look in awe at the town hall mural. A large zoomed out painting of all of Jackson. There by the park, you spy the fine brushstrokes of woman reading on a bench. The bench you visit quite regularly. Around her neck is a scarf identical to the one you wear almost every day.

You’d almost be creeped out if you didn’t admire her so much.

“Do you like them?” A familiar voice makes you jump in surprise.

Ellie stands there behind you, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Oh, Jesus, Ellie!” You gasp, quickly standing up in shock. “God, yes they’re all wonderful. You’re very talented.” You smile. Ellie just stands there. You can feel her awkward aura as she fidgets with her hands.

You turn back to the painting, hoping to fill the silence. “Um, the woman reading on the bench… and the gardener and the mermaid.” You list off hesitantly. “They’re… they’re all me, aren’t they?” You ask, turning your head to look at her.

Ellie’s eyes widen slightly. “I uh- I didn’t think you’d notice that fast.” She laughs.

Silence.

“Why?” You whisper, turning back to the painting. “Why me?”

You hear the crunching of gravel under Ellie’s feet as she steps closer to you.

“…I paint what inspires me.” She says, her low voice next to your ear raises goosebumps along your arms.

Your eyes widen slightly as you turn to look at her. This is the closest you’ve ever been. All of Ellie’s nerves seem to have vanished as she looks you up and down, her eyes lingering on your lips.

“Are you free tonight?” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve got your… look down quite yet, so I could use some practice.” She gestures vaguely to the small woman in the mural.

“All you have to do is sit there and look pretty. I’ll make it worth your time. I promise.” She smiles, tilting her head in anticipation of an answer.

“Yes.” You say breathlessly. Ellie’s sly grin grows bigger and you feel yourself turning red in embarrassment. Shit, you didn’t mean to sound so eager.

“I mean, yeah. Sure.” You chuckle, hoping to ease the tension.

Ellie looks you up and down one more time before putting her hands in her pockets and stepping back. “Great. You know where I am.” She winks, turning around to walk away.

“Wait! What do I wear?” You yell out to her.

Ellie turns around, hands still in her pockets as she walks backwards. She shrugs.

“Doesn’t matter.”

[ihearnocomplaints]

It’s almost 1am and I decided to write a little DCA drabble just for fun. (Not canon to my AU)

You look around the seemingly empty daycare. It’s dark. Unusual, you think. Shrugging off the unease, you step in.

Why were you here again? Had you forgotten something? You stand there, next to the slide nearest to the exit. Staring at the floor, brows furrowed, you try to retrace your steps.

You had said goodbye to Sun and left. Halfway to the main entrance, you remembered something. What was it? What was it you remembered? Had you remembered that you’d forgotten something? Were you intending to give the Daycare Attendant something? Why can’t you remember?

You groan and drag a hand down your face.

Well, you can’t leave yet, since you clearly came back for a reason.

“Sun?” You call out, glancing around the darkness. No answer. You strain your ears to see if you can hear the soft whirring of his mechanisms or the jingle of his bells. Again, nothing.

Frustrated, you step deeper into the daycare, beyond the light the doorway casts. You walk past the tall jungle gyms, desaturated and cast in an eerie light now that the daycare is dark and empty. And quiet. Too quiet.

It suddenly becomes very apparent that the never ending daycare song is no linger playing in the overhead speakers. Its absence makes you miss it all the more.

“Sun?” You call out again, now standing near the ball pit. You walk the perimeter slowly, dragging your hand across the plastic brick wall that borders it. Where could he be?

You sigh and idly walk to the rainbow bridge, standing at its peak. Maybe that would give you a better vantage point of the daycare.

You strain your eyes, slowly surveying the area before you feel a sudden tap on your left shoulder. You snap your head in that direction but find nothing there. Then there’s a tap to your opposite shoulder. Looking has the same effect as last time. You huff and turn to face the ball pit.

“Sun, this isn’t funny,” You say before turning back to face the daycare. As you turn, you’re met face to face with the Daycare Attendant, hanging upside down from a wire connected to the ceiling. Except this isn’t the Sun you know. This one is darker and night themed. Much more moon-like than Sun.

Before you can even get a word out, they’ve got their hands on your shoulders. They rotate their head 90° and give you a shove as their whispery, raspy voice says, “boo.” Followed by a mischievous giggle.

You find yourself falling backward into the ball pit. It isn’t very deep but it���s certainly overstimulating as you try to flounder your way out. It’s a struggle to even figure out which way is up and right yourself accordingly.

Once you’ve managed to stand, the balls up to your waist, you wade through them and make your way to the little island in the middle of the ball pit. “That wasn’t very nice,” You huff, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling.

There’s a brief glimpse of red that disappears behind a cloud and a familiar giggle that just barely reaches your ears. You frown and look around, trying to decide your best route to the exit.

You really should have waded over to the rainbow bridge instead of the island. It’s going to be a pain going through the ball pit again. But this was the path you chose and you must walk it.

Letting out a frustrated breath, you waddle your way through the balls once more and end up just fine on the other end, if not mildly annoyed at this point. You look to the ceiling once more but find nothing.

“I’m leaving now!” You shout up to the ceiling then mumble to yourself, “I don’t know why I even came back in the first place but, frankly, I don’t care anymore.”

As you walk past the plastic house that’s way too small to fit you, you feel something hit your back. You spin around, frantically looking around for the Daycare Attendant only to see one of the ball pit balls rolling away from you on the floor. You glare at it and then the ball pit.

“Why?” You ask, picking up the ball. You can see the animatronic’s head poke out of the ball pit, that once sweet, now eerie smile tilting as the click, click, click of their head’s mechanism rotate it. You toss the ball back into the ball pit.

“Cuz. Funny.” Is all the Daycare Attendant responds.

You’re still not sure who this is. It’s clearly a moon-themed version of Sun. But if this one is here, then where is Sun? Is this just Sun messing with you? Surely he wouldn’t do such a thing.

You huff and promptly turn away, continuing your trek to the exit. “It’s not funny. It’s mean. I don’t even know who you are and you’re already bullying me,” You say as you walk away. Another ball hits you.

“Rude.” You freeze at that and turn around, about ready to give this animatronic a piece of your mind. Except they’re no longer in the ball pit.

You glance around in all directions, thoroughly confused at how they could possibly move this fast. “I’m not rude!” You say, sounding a lot more like a petulant child than you meant to.

“You are.” The bot says, coming from your left. But when you look, there’s no one there. “Won’t even let me introduce myself.” This time the voice is directly behind you.

You stumble forward and spin around to face the tall animatronic looming behind you. Even when they’re slouched they’re taller than you. You frown and stare at them expectantly. “Well?” You gesture for them to continue.

They tilt their head as they seem to have a habit of doing. “Moon,” They say, placing a hand to their chest. They point to you and say your name. Logically, they’d know your name from the employee database but somehow it’s still a shock to you when they actually say it. Not even Sun has called you your name yet. And you know he knows it. It’s always pet names or nicknames with him.

“Moon,” You repeat with a nod, looking them up and down. “Fitting.”

Moon’s optics seem to brighten with glee and he lets out a little giggle. “Sun and Moon.” He responds with a nod.

“Can I leave now?” You ask, taking a step backward toward the exit. Moon’s gaze drifts to the door behind you before they wordlessly fly up and disappear in the rafters.

You stare up at the ceiling for a while, unsure of whether to leave or not, but when you see no further signs of Moon, you take that as your go-ahead for making a swift exit. And exit you do, practically sprinting to the exit.

You’re not sure why, but something about that whole interaction made your alarm bells ring. There was an odd sense of danger, despite Moon’s overall playfulness. There was danger in those glowing red eyes of his, you think. You can’t be certain, though. Perhaps the dark was clouding your judgement.