#another little drabble

[callofdudes]

The Grim Reaper will often take the form of a former loved one when someone dies to help them cross. Johnny dies...

And the Grim Reaper comes to collect him, bending down, tilting Johnny's chin up to look into familiar brown eyes.

Johnny trusts Simon so so much he'd let Simon lead him through death. Johnny's eyes widen and he tries to hug Simon, feeling the cold, dead bones in its body...

"I don't want to go Simon..."

It's arms wrap around him, petting through his hair. "I'll be with you every step. Let's go Johnny, it's cold out here."

Johnny grabs a corner or the Reaper's cloak to hang onto as he's led through the darkness. Simon would lead him home, would show him where he needed to go, just like he always does. Simon would make sure he was safe, every single step.

[fanaticsnail]

Kiss their cheek

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 220-650 for each character

Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law, Kid

Synopsis: It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?

Notes: I have hit a follower milestone and I am freaking out about it. I don't normally post about the follower count, but this is simply too incredible to not mark the occasion for. To distract myself from the sheer number of you that found my writing good enough to follow, I have a little drabble for you to enjoy for my favorites. To quote the goodest and bestest boy there ever was: “Thank you for loving me.” I love you all too. Art is not done by me, found on Pinterest

Themes: cheek kisses, feelings, monster trio, supernova trio, crewmate!reader, unrequited love, confessions of love, no prior romantic relationship, gn!reader, pure fluff, A little OOC while I'm still learning about a couple of the blorbos.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun

Blackleg Sanji

“Dinner was beautiful as always, Sanji,” you cooed at him, swooping forward and collecting his smooth cheek beneath your lips in a small kiss, “Well done, Chef.” Holding his cheek in contact with your lips for a few moments longer before pulling away with a broad smile. 

“You’re most welcome, love,” he returned your affectionate demonstration, his lips finding your cheek and grazing your flesh with his lips. 

Both of you reacted as if this touch was not uncommon, not something out of the ordinary in the slightest. This was the first time you had given him this small gesture, demonstrating your appreciation for his hard work with something as simple as a small kiss. 

The fact that this kiss was so freely given to him had Sanji’s heart catch in his throat, his pulse rapidly beating and elevating the flow of his adrenaline through his veins. His family of origin comes from a culture that kisses on the cheeks to greet and farewell friends, acquaintances and even enemies. Why did this kiss feel so perfect against his skin? 

He would do anything to feel your lips on him again, often giving you preferential treatment in the hopes your lips would find his skin once more. Should he gather up the courage to turn his head, claiming your lips within his own, would you turn away? He hoped you wouldn’t. 

Roronoa Zoro

His mind could not comprehend the moment that just befell him. 

It was a simple night of comradery and relaxation. The air felt alight with joyful merriment: Brook playing music, Sanji ensuring each of you had an adequate meal. It felt light: nothing plaguing, hunting, seeking, nor fighting. It was simple, and that is what it felt. 

It being a simple and small kiss against his right cheek.

“You are an excellent first-mate, Zoro,” you laughed up at him, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “A noble knight and fearless protector.”

Zoro’s head couldn’t produce a single thought to form a string of a sentence. He had not felt this way, the ignition of a small swell of passion to not involve swordsmanship, ever before. 

In all the realms of intimacy and subtle touches, Zoro was inexperienced in receiving and reciprocating. Zoro was, for lack of a better word, a virgin to such an expression of unbridled affection. 

“Th-Thanks, I guess?” he grunted, his brows arching at you. You giggled, patting him on the shoulder and offering him a warm smile. 

“You’re welcome, soldier,” you cooed up at him before turning on your heel, following the gentle rise in rhythm with your hips, dancing along to Brook’s playing. He followed your movement with a keen eye, more enthusiastic about your gentle sway and soft laughter than he was moments prior. 

Monkey D Luffy

“Oh, Captain!” you smiled at him, hooking your arm over his shoulder and drawing him close to your face, “Your cheeks are so cute. I could just-,” you halted your words, lunging forward and peppering his tanned cheeks with several fluttered kisses, humming throughout each press. 

“Oi, oi, Docinho,” he chuckled, swatting at your hands and writhing within your arms, “Stop that. I am a hardened criminal. I am a captain! You’re not meant to think I’m cute, you’re meant to dote on me and offer me tribute of your loyalty!” You giggled, allowing him to swipe your body away from his. 

His eyes darted away from yours, his lips curved in a soft pout with his brows furrowing in a deep frown. For a moment, you thought you truly offended him by your lips finding his skin. Your eyes widened, your hands shaking defensively to desperately retract your affectionate touch.

“I’m sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean to-,” you were silenced by several inexperienced kisses littering your cheeks, nose and forehead. The cheeky chuckle that followed each of the small pecks only prompted your mind to chase your heart with its rapidity. He placed his hands over your shoulders, laughing whole-heartedly at your frazzlement. 

“If this is the way you’re offering me tribute as a wonderful captain,” he hummed thoughtfully, “Perhaps I’m not so bad at the job after all.” 

Trafalgar D Water-Law

“You work too hard,” you sigh against his cheek, pulling away from his cool flesh and raking your eyes over his face, “You deserve to take a break some time.” You watched the small hue of pink rise to dust over his cheeks, his hair at the nape of his neck standing alert and rigid. 

Unsure what exactly prompted you to seek out your captain’s cheek with your lips, you were regretting the small brush of your lips over his smooth skin the instant you drew yourself away. Watching as Law inhaled a deep breath through his nose, he exhaled a lengthy breath through his lips: following the small gesture with a soft hum. 

“Just know that you’re appreciated, Sir,” you reiterated your stance, ensuring you held your eyes against his to reinforce your seriousness, “I-... We appreciate you, Captain. We love you, and want to help you achieve your goals. Just-... Just know that, okay?” 

Yellow eyes followed your exit, watching every step that you took and hearing the hollow floor ricochet the reverberating tap of your boot heel. His haunted gaze held firm to your retreat, silence growing heavy at the closure of his office door. 

He could not stop thinking about the kiss all day. The way your lips felt against his cheek, the way he felt the small elevation of your smile - the way his heart swelled in his chest, and the way his breath caught in his throat. He wanted to know what it meant. He needed to know if you were being friendly and supportive, or if you wanted more. 

Lips over his cheek, the catching over the words “I appreciate you” with your reassurances that he is loved and worthy of devotion, inhibited him from welcoming slumber for several days. In the hopes of providing him encouragement and loyalty to soothe his rapidly sporadic mind, you aided in him in only finding restlessness. 

Growling at his own racing emotions, he hastily drew up the transponder snail and dialed your personal shell. He awaited the annoying hum, the crackle of the receiver halting as you picked up the call. 

“C-Captain?” your groggy voice called over the snail, “Cap, it’s nearly five in the morning. I clocked off the overnight shift and only just got to sleep-.”

“-Do you love me?” he quickly spurted the words before he could stop them. 

Your mind did not have the capacity to mask your words, given your groggy sleep deprivation. Yawning your answer into the transponder, Law’s heart raced at hearing your words.

“Of course I love you. We all love you,” you confirmed, rolling your neck and taking a moment to collect yourself, “You’re my captain. I pledged my allegiance to follow you, sir. What are you calling me at-?”

“-No,” Law’s voice crackled over the receiver, his tone immediately waking you of your prior tired state, “I need to know what it meant. I need to know what it meant. Why did you kiss me?”

“What?” you began, shaking your head and brows beginning to knit in confusion, “I don’t understand what you’re-.”

“-Why would you kiss me knowing your lips would haunt me? Knowing that that kiss you gave would scorch and mark my heart?” his voice rose as his temper boiled over the edge. “You know I closed myself off to this bullshit. You know what giving me a small amount of your affection would do to me. Why would you-?”

“-Because I love you, Law,” you uttered in a low voice. You flung your legs over the bed, feet finding your sleep shoes beneath your mattress. Your confession hung heavy in the air, your heart and mind fully awake and comprehending your every waking minute. Silence was heavy and swollen with tension, your mind racing over all the possible retorts Law could throw at you. 

Dismissal, execution, exile, abandonment: these were the responses you deduced to be the most appropriate response. In its stead, you were greeted with a small huffed chuckle and a low rumbled retort.

“Come to my office,” he hummed into the receiver, “Show me more. I-I-...” the transponder crackled as Law found his words, “...-I need more.”

Eustass Kid

“In some cultures, it’s seen as a sign of respect,” you nodded your head, bowing your down to him, “It’s an extension of submission and admission to serve beneath a mighty ruler. Hands are the most common to touch, but kissing a cheek is the most intimate expression of-.”

“-Fine, you can kiss me,” the gruff rumble of Eustass Kid’s voice dismissively crackled. He rolled his eyes, turning his cheek away from you to hide the bite of his lip to stifle his rising blush. 

Affectionate touches was not something Kid, nor his crew, were very experienced in receiving. When he offered you the chance of joining his crew to achieve his goals, Eustass Kid did not expect you to dote and coddle each of his crewmen into submission beneath your affectionate touches. As the last member of his crew to be a recipient of your gentle touch, he truly did not comprehend why his heart was beating with anxious rapidity. 

“Only if you’re sure-,” you began, halted by a harsh bark from your captain.

“-I said it was fine, didn’t I?” his gruff voice cut through the air. While his head was still turned from you, he stretched out his right hand to await a small touch from your lips. 

But his cheek was right there. You couldn’t help but spring at the opportunity to rise up to Eustass Kid’s seated position on the wooden bench aboard the deck. He was ripe for doting and peppering a flurry of kisses all over his face, but you held yourself back from such an expression of unbridled affection. You opted to start slow.

Gently touching his shoulders, you stooped down and pressed a sweet and intentional kiss atop the apple of his cheek. You felt his breath catch in his throat, an unintentional whimper halting in his nose at the soft expression of your admiration.

As you pulled away from him, your upper left arm was caught by the wide and firm grasp of the captain of the Victoria-Punk. His face was still turned away from you, but the crimson hue of his pale face gave away the elevation of his heartbeat. 

“I’m sorry, Captain. I should’ve just gone for the hand-,” you began, attempting to tug away from his grip and apologize properly to him. 

“C-Can I-...” he grunted out a gruff cough, continuing to hold his face away from yours, “...Can I have another one?”

[thatrandomlittlegirl]

When you type Gaster's name into the game, the game shuts down and resets.

What would happen when you type his name elsewhere...?

[johnslittlespoon]

john risks an eye (and then some) winning gale his bike... but gale refuses to ride it anywhere. it confuses john to no end when he catches him walking to the mess hall the day after he gifts him the bike; he slows his own down to keep pace with gale and says, "did you forget i risked my life getting you your own set of wheels?"

gale gives him some excuse about wanting to explore the base at a leisurely pace on his first proper morning there, and john just shrugs, maybe teases a bit more, but ultimately lets it go (though he does keep pace with him the whole way to the mess.)

except this isn't a one–time thing. sometimes it takes gale triple the time walking as it takes john to bike somewhere, but no matter what, he insists quite adamantly that he prefers to walk. it stings a bit, because john loves to show his affection through gift–giving, and seeing gale's bike locked in the same spot day after day feels a little like rejection, but he brushes it off, turning it into a challenge to get gale to ride the damn bike.

a bit of extra pressure via teasing one morning, and, weird– john thinks his ever–stoic friend might actually be blushing when he makes a joke about, "you scared of crashing? can fly a plane but can't ride a bike?" and gale gives him a stiff "course not" in return. that piques john's interest, and he does love flustering gale, especially when it's so rare to get a reaction out of him like that.

so when they make it to the mess hall, john riding his bike at a slow crawl and wondering why he even bothers taking it anymore when he takes just as long as gale in his refusal to leave his side, he presses again as they sit down across from each other.

"if you're not scared, just ride a loop with me around base when we get back, and i'll drop it," he proposes. gale doesn't meet his eyes when he gives him a firm "no thanks, john," but he might as well have just waved a red flag in front of a bull. "why not?" john kicks at his ankle under the table, and gale does look up then, if only to glare.

john waits patiently for whatever increasingly ridiculous excuse gale might give him this time, only to see gale's shoulders slump a bit, studying john's face for a beat longer before he lowers his eyes once again and mumbles, "don't know how to ride." john huffs out a breath of laughter, then stops when he realizes gale isn't laughing too.

"you're serious?" he asks, and gale nods, leaning back in his chair, cheeks a lovely shade of pink. "my dad never taught me to ride, and he never wanted to spend the money to get me a bike growing up, so." john immediately feels terrible for all of his jokes and pressuring, and for being unable to tear his eyes away from his blush.

"well, that's alright," he says easily, not wanting to embarrass gale any more than he already has. "i'll teach you."

that's how they end up in a secluded field after breakfast, and it's john's turn to feel a little flushed as he keeps a firm hand on the small of gale's back to help him stay upright, promising he won't let go until gale tells him to. gale picks up on the skill almost instantly, unsurprisingly, and john beams at the boyish excitement on gale's face when he finally gets going on his own.

mornings are much more exciting when john has someone to race to the mess hall, though he lets gale win sometimes just to see his favourite smile.

'you sound like my dad, john.' well, john hopes he's outdone him now.

[ruershrimo]

i. toge x fem!reader | aftermath of a confession

for a while it’s just the deafening silence between the two of you and the clanging noises of chopsticks on glass bowls. of course, he knows that it isn’t going to last forever even if he wonders if it will, but your lack of words definitely fails to prove that wrong. 

see, the problem is this: toge’s sitting right in front of you— his dream girl, his crush of two years and all that. since the moment you first walked in the classroom and he’d caught sight of you, he’d been hopelessly and utterly smitten. perhaps it was the way you smiled at others, shy as you were; the way you laughed at his antics without fail and tried to lift people up no matter how much you struggled with doing so. it was that kindness; the type that didn’t need gestures and touches, the type that didn’t call for empathy or sympathy. just that plain kindness. 

and soon after it came his love for everything else: your hair, your eyes, your skin— the way they shined in the sunlight. he was sure he wasn’t that obvious. yet he supposes that besides maki, panda and yuuta who’d already known him enough to tell, it could have been relatively easy for all the other students of the school (basically, all the first years) to notice his infatuation with you— well, save for you yourself. 

he didn’t think it’d amount to anything, though. as much as it hurt to think that. not with the way his technique held him back; you needed someone who could speak to you, look after you that way. he needed you to not feel lonely. he had insistence from maki and panda that you were every bit down bad for him as he was for you, yet he still couldn’t believe them in full. despite all his jests and cheeky shenanigans, he would never consider himself bold enough to be able to confess it all to you. so why do it, when you wouldn’t be able to reciprocate in the first place? 

which is why he was shocked when you bowed over, scrunched your face up in embarrassment and handed him a letter in a sealed envelope before lunch on a random tuesday, stammering that you’ve liked him for more than a year, can you please consider going out with me?, and running away before coming back just for lunch. 

at least if maki and panda were here, things would be less awkward. but maki is still out training, and panda’s off to do whatever pandas do before lunch on random tuesdays. 

“takana…” he starts, eyes on your crestfallen face. the only thing your eyes are on is the food you’re eating. 

“…I’m sorry…” you mutter. he barely makes it out from you. 

“ikura!” he says. No! 

an idea strikes him then. 

you cock your head to the side in confusion as he whips out his phone and his thumbs fiddle away across its keyboard. 

toge’s confident now. if the two of you like each other, why not start something new? he’d love to take you out. he hands you the phone. 

“‘I… like… you… too?’” you read out, squinting at the tiny font.

toge sees your heart stop, breaths caught in your throat, your cheeks warm— scratch that, you’re crying. 

wait, why were you crying?!

“takana!” 

“I-I’m so glad,” you sniffle,” I always liked you. I didn’t know how to say it. it was painful seeing you every day knowing how I felt, and- and thinking there wouldn’t ever be a chance you’d like me back!” you sob, burying your face in your hands as if it could hide anything, “and then when I gave the letter to you, I was so nervous, I-I should’ve stayed there or given you something you liked, but I panicked!” 

nervously, he inches his hand closer to yours. your watery eyes widen. “shake sushi,” he reaffirms. the circles he rubs over the back of your hand make you feel like he’s smoothing over creased paper on your skin. yes, he likes you too, so don’t worry. don’t cry. you may be crying, but if he were a dog, his tail would be wagging so wildly regardless. 

both of your hands grab one of his with shaky movements and a slew of hiccups. “I’ll try my best.”

“mentaiko.”

thank goodness.

[r0tting-rat]

DCA PROMPTOBER 2024

I KNOW I'M STILL LATE I'M STRUGGLING TO CATCH UP I'M SORRY

Day 2 - Paper Pals

Pairing: Sun x Gender Neutral Reader, romantic Warnings: None Words: 3000+ Summary: While making paper pals with Sun, you begin a game you quickly regret starting.

-Shit, this thing is so ugly,- you grinned, looking down at the paper pal you were working on. You were sitting at one of the colorful plastic tables in the arts & craft area of the daycare, with your fingers sticky with glue and your arms covered in doodles made by the kids. Some of those looked more like scribbles than actual drawings, but when one of the little boys pointed at his masterpiece and said; “-Cow!-” you had no choice but to laugh and say; “-Oh, I love your cow, David, it’s so cute!-”

The only problem was that the “cow” in question was green, it had three… eyes?—you didn’t even know if those were eyes, since you couldn’t understand which was the face and which was the butt—and more legs than you could count. Could it be that the child actually wanted to draw a centipede but didn’t remember its name? Maybe, but unlike the animatronic sitting right beside you, you weren’t an art critic.

-It’s not ugly!- Sun protested, looking at your paper pal, -I think it’s lovely.-

-You also said David’s “cow” was lovely, but that thing looks more like snot,- you laughed, and Sun gave you a dramatic gasp.

-Are you calling me a liar?!- he said, placing a hand over his chest like an old lady clutching her pearls. Grinning even more, you leaned a little closer to the robot. 

-Hell, yes I am.- Your whisper caused Sun’s rays to spin in fake outrage. Luckily for you all the kids were playing in the jungle gyms in the play area, so Sun was allowing you to swear as much as you wanted with no repercussions. Of course, he still twitched and flinched every now and then.

You and Sun had decided to stay there, sitting at the tables, to finish the project of the day which you didn’t have time to work on during the arts & craft hour. Paper Pals! Loyal, cheerful, flat and… horribly ugly little guys which Sun adored with his whole mechanic heart. Well, not all paper pals were ugly, yours surely was, maybe because you couldn’t decide on the theme. You had drawn blue stars on the face, like they were freckles, but changed your mind half-way and tried to fix it by making the entire face blue. The only problem? The blue you were first using had run out, so you had to choose another blue to finish the face, which was of a lighter shade than the previous. 

To add to the list, the silver glitter glue had been spilled the day before and the next batch was not going to come until Monday, so you had no silver glitter glue to make your pal prettier. 

-If you don’t like your paper pal, how about you make another?- asked Sun, looking at you curiously. You shook your head, beginning to draw a brown button-up on your little pal, like those shades of brown and blue didn’t look absolutely hideous together. 

-Nah, he’s ugly, but I like him.- You were so focused on your little guy that you didn’t even look up as you spoke, -He’s like, my ugly son.-

Next to you, Sun wheezed.

-Y-Your ugly son?- he asked, half between a laugh and a question. 

-Yeah! His name is Robert, I love him and I will treasure him forever, even if he’s ugly,- you nodded, -I don’t mind ugly things.-

Something you could pride yourself upon was, in fact, that look didn’t matter to you. Be it animals, people, drawings or paper pals, you didn’t care if they were “ugly”. In fact, you had decided you were going to make your paper pal the ugliest one in the existence of the Mega Pizzaplex, and you were going to love him to death. David’s cow was also coming with you. Was it ugly? Damn right it was. Were you about to do anything you could to let it stay on your skin as long as possible? Fuck yes. 

You grabbed a mouth for your paper pal, one of those with full and soft lips, then colored it so it had bright green lipstick. You glued it on Robert, satisfied, before noticing you had glued it on wrong and that it was slightly tilted to the side. Okay, that… you hadn’t done that on purpose, but oh well. 

-Is that why you like us so much?- Sun asked, and your ears immediately picked on the slight nervousness in his voice. You turned around just to see him working on his own paper pal. 

-What do you mean?- you asked, unsure. 

-You said you don’t mind ugly things,- Sun explained, gluing a leg to his pal, -So I’m wondering if that's why you don’t mind us.-

You stopped working on your project just to turn completely around on the little chair, until you were directly facing the animatronic. Noticing your stance, Sun also stopped working, looking at you with a surprised expression.

-Has something happened?- he asked, like he didn’t just call himself ugly.

-No, just…- you looked at him, like, looked at Sun, up close. You even stood up so you could have a better angle. -Just checking something.-

Wide-eyed, Sun stared at you as you inspected his skin, his features and clothes. He followed your movements as you hummed to yourself, mumbled as you touched the silicone of his hands and clicked your tongue, deep in thought. 

-Mhm, yes, I’m afraid it’s exactly what I suspected,- you spoke out loud after a few seconds. Sun smiled, perplexed. 

-What’s your verdict, doc?- he asked, amused. Satisfied, you sat back down. 

-You’re stunning.- Was your reply. As soon as those words left your mouth, Sun’s eyes widened even more and his fans turned on, working to keep his internals cool. The robot looked at you for a few seconds, mouth wide open, baffled by your response. He had expected so many things, but not… not this one! 

-Y-You don’t mean that…- he whined, but immediately regretted saying those words, because they betrayed how flustered he truly was. Sun suddenly felt the urge to hide his face behind his paper pal. 

-Are you calling me a liar?!- you gasped, echoing the same words he had spoken just a few minutes before. You even copied the way he had clutched his chest.

-Yes!- Sun replied with another whine, -Look at me, I’m…-

-Beautiful? Pretty? Perfectly detailed, amazingly shaped?- you suggested, looking at the jester with a grin and an amused look in your eyes. Sun’s fans whirred louder, reminding you of the sound of your old pc when you tried to run The Sims 4 on it, along with all the mods you had downloaded. Sun was overheating, and if the circumstances had been different you would have suggested he take off his blouse to let his fans do their job, but you were afraid that would have actually caused him to implode before anything could be done. 

Sun’s fingers were twitching and he was keeping his eyes closed, like not seeing your smug expression would have helped with cooling off. 

-I’m… f-full of those craters, and… and my pain is chipping off,- he tried to argue, like you weren’t ready to prove him wrong. 

-Those craters are absolutely adorable,- you pointed at the little dots on his face, which reminded you of freckles, -They make your smile stand out. But you’re right on the last part, we should get you re-painted, so you can glow even more than you do now!-

Your smile widened when Sun grabbed his rays and hid his face on his knees, groaning.

-S-S-Stop!- his voicebox was glitching, adding a static-y layer to his voice which made him sound even more desperate than he actually was. 

-You’re like the actual sun, Sunny,- you leaned closer, grinning viciously.

-Impossible to look at?- he sniffled, still refusing to look up.

-No, a true hottie.-

☆

You immediately had to call maintenance to get them to bring Sun down to Parts & Service. After all, you had to look after the kids at the daycare, so you couldn’t leave, as much as you wished to. Apparently you had gone too far with your teasing, causing Sun to enter a reboot and drop unconscious on the table where you and him had been doing arts & craft. You had worried a lot when it first happened, but as soon as you checked that everything was alright you breathed a sigh of relief and began to laugh. Shit, you didn’t know that could happen. Oh well. 

The security guard on duty explained to you how to open up Sun’s chest cavity from the outside, giving his internal components the opportunity to cool off, then told you what to do in case Sun woke back up without a mechanic nearby. You listened carefully, just in case something like that happened again, but when the guard asked you the reason why Sun had overheated you struggled to stifle a laugh. 

-I, uhm… I complimented his… paper pal.- Yeah, sure, that could do. 

Not gonna lie, guilt was beginning to creep up on you. Maybe you should have been more careful, and not just because overheating could cause problems to Sun’s internal wiring, but also because there was a possibility you were overstepping his boundaries. Just the thought of making your friend uncomfortable was painful to you, so you decided you were going to apologize as soon as you saw him. 

Fortunately, not too much time passed before Sun was brought back up from Parts & Service, maybe just an hour. The mechanic told you that he was in tip-top shape and that there was nothing to worry about, but as soon as he left Sun turned his back to you and began to pout like a child. 

-Sunnyyy,- you called, prolonging the y as much as you could. The kids were playing Simon Says and by your prediction you still had a few minutes before any of them decided to randomly bite someone else or take off their pants, so you were fine. -Sunny boy?-

-Don’t call me that!- replied Sun with a huff, -You don’t want to make me overheat again, do you?!-

You smiled, but then apologized, gently asking your friend to turn around. 

-Sorry for what i said,- you began once he was finally looking your way, -It won’t happen again. I hope I didn’t say anything inappropriate and made you uncomfortable, that was not my intention.-

Sun was still pouting, and his eyes switched constantly between you, the floor and the ceiling, like he didn’t know where to look. 

-You won’t do it again?- he asked, and you nodded. 

-I won’t.-

-Ever, ever, ever again?- Sun repeated, like he wanted to make sure. 

-I promise I will never tease you again,- you swore, holding one of your hands over your heart and the other in the air. 

-...Oh.- 

Your brows furrowed. Sun seemed… disappointed? Wait, did he…? A grin opened on your face.

-...Unless,- you began to say, and the animatronic looked at you with hopeful eyes, -Unless you wanted me to tease you.-

Your smile was as large as your face, opening from ear to ear in an unsettling manner.

-Is this what you’re after? Praises? If that’s so, I don’t mind, I’ll tell you how adorable you are all day long.- Your voice ran smooth, dripping with honey, and it had the desired effect when you noticed Sun shuddering. He stared at you in disbelief, like he just realized that you meant every word you said, and his rays spun around his head. Something told you that, if he could have blushed, his entire face would have been red.

-T-This is a game we both can play, Friend!- Sun replied, sounding like he was reprimanding you. The stern expression on his face made you feel like that, at least.

-Then play with me, Sunny boy.-

You and Sun spent the following days teasing each other, fake-bantering like a couple of idiots, but quickly you realized that your robotic friend didn't lie to you when he claimed to be way better at this new game than you had first predicted.

You spent your free time at home thinking about more ways to get him to fluster, and he did the same after he was done cleaning the daycare after a long day. You whispered praises when there were no kids nearby, you dropped random compliments during normal conversations, but more often than not you and Sun ended up actually flirting with each other, and hard.

-You look absolutely splendid today, Sun. Have you polished your rays?-

-Friend, today you smell absolutely delicious, is it a new shampoo?-

-What a flatterer! You truly have a way with words, Sunny.-

-Oh, shame I can’t eat, you would have made a great snack, Friend.-

That particular last sentence made you choke on your water when you first heard it. Shit, you couldn’t let Sun see how flustered he could get you! It was almost like, the more you complimented him, the bolder he got, and it was beginning to have quite the effect on you. Multiple times during the day you had to slip in the bathrooms just to splash cold water on your face, but each time you did Sun teased you to no end. Your little game had long turned into a war which you had no intention to lose, but unfortunately for you, one day the worst thing happened.

-Friend?- Sun called you after finishing a game of tag with the kids, -We ran out of glitter glue, will you come with me to grab some?- 

His tone was completely innocent, but still you refused to let yourself be fooled. The last time you went with him in the supplies closet he had locked the door with you inside until you agreed with him that you were terribly handsome.

-I don’t know,- you said, looking at him suspiciously, -Can I trust you?-

Sun nodded, eagerly. 

-Of course you can! I’m not in the mood for playing today, I will leave you alone,- he promised, looking like a happy dog with that cheerful expression. You looked at the robot up and down, unsure, but eventually you decided he looked honest enough. You sighed and nodded, following the jester in his cheerful steps across the daycare, but not before asking the security guard on duty to keep an eye on the kids while you were away.

You and him headed for the supplies closet then went past it, much to your surprise. All the while, Sun didn’t stop skipping and humming the daycare tune.

-Wait, shouldn’t we…?- you began to ask, turning to look at the closet door.

-No, no, Friend! The glitter glue is up in my room,- Sun explained, -Follow me.-

Doubtful, you still tagged along, following the animatronic past a secret passage, a set of stairs and eventually the door to his room. You stopped before entering, hesitating. You had never seen Sun’s room, and even if it only made sense for them to have a private space all for themselves you had never really thought about it. You didn’t know what to expect, but even if you did expect something, what met your eyes was completely different from anything you could have come up with. The little space was messy, covered in kids drawings, old plushies and other stuff you were sure the animatronic wasn’t supposed to have up there. Random boxes were stacked around and used as tables or something of the sort, although many of them had a thin layer of dust covering them, like Sun never bothered to move them around or even just tidy the place a little. The robot held a hand on your shoulders and turned you the other way when you tried to look at a mass of metallic arms and… staff bot heads? Did you see that right? When you asked more about it, he avoided the question.

The jester asked you to grab a specific box on the side of the door, then went to grab two more himself. You cracked it open, seeing many packages of glitter glue stacked inside, while your friend began to tell you about something that happened with one of the kids that morning. Apparently Jimmy had tried to eat a red crayon, but after just a few seconds something caught your eye and you stopped listening. Hanging from one of the walls were some paper pals, all grouped together like they were friends holding hands, and between them you recognized some of the pals made by the kids a few days prior. They were messy, the colors had no harmony and many kids had glued eyes and mouths upside down, but they were the loveliest paper pals you had ever seen. What caught your eye however was your paper pal, in all of his blue, brown and green glory, kept on the wall next to something that looked like a makeshift bed made with various pillows and blankets. You were left speechless, unable to form a word, wondering how your paper pal had managed to grow legs and crawl all the way into Sun’s room.

-Ah, you saw Robert,- Sun chimed in. He was exactly behind you, -I hope you don’t mind I took him, I just thought he could… be friends with my paper pal.-

Next to Robert, in fact, was another paper pal. Its blouse was the same color of your uniform, the eyes were the same shade of yours and the expression drawn on it—a mischievous smirk—felt oddly familiar.

-Is that… me?- you asked, pointing at Sun’s paper pal. The animatronic laughed.

-Oh, no, silly. They are my new friend,- he replied, smug, -Aren’t they just lovely?-

You swallowed, then nodded.

-What’s their name?- you asked after a few seconds of silence. As you expected, your own name fell from Sun’s silicone lips. -I see.-

The hands of the two paper pals, yours and Sunny’s, were glued together, and they stood very close to one another, like they were the best of friends. You suddenly felt Sun’s presence a lot more than before, you could hear the little mechanisms moving inside his metallic body, you could hear the soft whirring of his cooling system, you could feel his eyes on the back of your head and his huge frame looming over you. 

-I’m happy to see Robert has made a friend,- you commented with a smile. 

-Agree. They are the best friend one could ask for.- 

As soon as those words left Sun, you immediately covered your reddening face with your hands, and in that exact moment you knew that you had lost the game. Shit, shit, shit. You had lost, and the blush covering your face, ears and neck was so deep you could feel your skin burning under your hands. All because of some paper pals.

[siyelius]

I think it’d be funny with in terms of physical dichotomy across the different planets — penacony having the power of harmony, the xianzhou with mara/differing species such as foxians and borisin— Belobog just has their human native-borns just superhuman in terms of endurance. Like those mfs are DURABLE.

Centuries of being considered a “dead planet” to everyone, isolationist and cut off from the star rail just mutated every single belobogian’s genetics across generations to catch up with the numerous calamities they have every weekend and casually turned them into actual BEASTS in terms of trying to knock them down. The ‘weak’ dying off either by the fragmentum or the eternal freeze, whereas the strong have had inherited cold resistance, upped strength and adamantine bones, etc.

For example, when gepard tells the kids in his voicelines that to become a captain (presumably as strong as him) he just says to keep training and eat well, I genuinely believe that’s what he did and he’s just ABLE to smash robots with his bare fist. Like belobogians are just Them.

[suguwu]

the bathwater has gone lukewarm.

you swish a hand through the fading bubbles and sink lower into the water. it ripples, soft waves lapping at the edge of the opulent tub. you close your eyes.

the door whirs open, a soft mechanical hiss. clothing rustles; someone settles on the edge of the bathtub.

"you've been in here a long time," aventurine says.

you crack an eye open. the bubbles sting. "it's been a long day."

he beckons to you; you slide closer, the water sloshing around you. you hook your arms over the edge of the tub, pillowing your chin on them. your skin glimmers, a few crystalline beads of water rolling across the plane of it.

he runs a gloved hand over your wet hair. then he tugs you closer, until your head is pressed against his thigh. he's warm, like sun-baked stone. you turn into him, ignoring the rasp of his clothing against your skin. he stiffens, then relaxes, the tension melting away like candlewax.

you've never been so close to someone so far away.

aventurine sweeps his thumb over the apple of your cheek, tracing up to your temple. he lingers there for a moment. you wait for him to decide.

he nudges you away from him gently. you go without a fight, settling back down into the water. you gaze up at him.

he's smiling, a smug, pretty curve of his lips. it reminds you of the fabric flowers in the cheap markets, eternally in bloom. an echo of the real thing. it's hard to look at.

you flap a hand at him. "let me finish up my bath. go away."

"what if i don't want to?"

"go away anyway."

"you're always so sweet to me."

you snort. "get out, aventurine."

"alright, alright," he says, standing with a graceful flourish. the door hisses open again. "i know when to call it quits."

your smile drops, but he's already out the door.

you sink back down into the water.

"no," you murmur. "you don't."

[roronoacherries]

being unable to stand each other when you’re sober but fucking like rabbits when you’re drunk, so he goes out a little more than he did before, alcohol almost coming to taste sweet to him 'cause his psyche knows the taste of you will come after it.

and you'll make excuses next time you see him. it was the herradura, don't let it get to your head; it's not something you would do if you were in your right mind, you tell yourself.

he'll roll his eyes, call you arrogant and nowhere near pretty enough to be acting so conceited; it's no wonder i need a few rounds in my system to be delusional enough to fuck you.

but he'll ask you if you're going out again tonight. and he'll wear that cologne that gets you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, biting, sucking, licking until he grips your face and kisses you, all tongue and teeth.

and you'll whisper i love you's, forgotten once you leave in the morning. except he doesn't forget them.

he doesn't know how long he can take this cycle, but he's willing to bear it, holding onto the hope that one day he'll wake up and you'll still be there.

[rodolfoparras]

Life sucks balls and ass but at least if you were ever upset price would let you straddle his lap while he sits in bed and rock the two of you side to side with his hand hand caressing your back, maybe even humming a tune in your ear doesn’t matter your size or if you’re older or younger than him he’ll absolutely do it, and if you feel shy about doing so he’ll do it in the dark, he won’t try to comfort with words because he knows they won’t do much so he’ll kiss the top of your head or squeeze your waist or caress whatever part of your body is closest to him

He’ll sit there til you fall asleep on him or til his leg starts falling asleep, won’t move an inch until he feels that you’re good again

[golden-afternoon]

Hi this sucks but idc rn. My entire brain is owned by beloved Kaedehara Kazuha at the moment and I wrote this in a fugue state of oh my god he's coming soon everyone stay calm the banner is coming!! Anyway, enjoy my nonsense and may all you Kazuha wanters be Kazuha havers!!

Warnings - completely unedited brainrot to paper, blood, bloody kisses, what the fuck why are they making out he could die

Knock knock knock.

The soft sound jolts you from your current reading. What? Last you checked you hadn't been expecting any visitors and especially not so late in the evening. Either way, you carefully place the bookmark in the place you had been and set aside the book on the table in favor of heading towards the door.

“One moment!” You call out to whoever was on the other side, undoing the lock before opening the door. “Hello…?”

In the fading purple light of dusk, you freeze in place at the sight of the man at your door. He looks beyond worse for wear with his cherry red eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and his snow white hair loose around his shoulders, looking messy and with more streaks of red than you are used to. His clothes are disheveled and worst of all, the blood on his face running in rivulets down from his nose, mouth and past his hairline. How much of it was his own and how much was from whatever unfortunate soul dared to cross him was unclear, but no matter what it sent alarm bells ringing in your head.

“Kazuha?! What-” You began to speak in worry, hands outstretched to gently reach for him to bring the wounded man inside, but he cuts your words short without a single word of his own.

One step forward and his arms were around you faster than you could process; one hand around your waist to draw you near to him and the other tangled in your hair, cradling the back of your head to keep you in place. Before you knew it, you were tasting iron, the unfamiliar flavor sending a shiver down your spine. Soft lips press to yours in a gentle, yet fervent manner, his whole body seeming to sink against you as he does, leaving you reeling and trying to stabilize you both as his fingers curl tighter into you, clinging to you like you would disappear. You had half a mind to protest, both from his clearly injured state taking priority and from the unfamiliar taste of blood seeping into your mouth, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. With a sigh, you gave in, kissing back in equal measure, your arms wrapping more gently around him than his hold on you was as you were unsure where and how severely hurt he was. The last thing you'd want would be to make it worse.

As he felt your arms wrap around him, his lips curled up into a smile against your own mouth, the simple action seeming to spur him on. He took another step forward, the action forcing you to stumble back a little. He kept going, silently goading you further into your home without ever once letting up on the intensity of the kiss, even managing to close the door behind you before bringing his hand right back to your waist in an instant.

Your head is spinning, heart racing, struggling to process it all when he deepens the kiss further, sliding his tongue along yours with practiced ease that makes your heart ache with want. Iron spreads across your tongue and for a moment it scares you, but the soft groan he makes as your taste floods his senses is enough to silence any such feelings. And if you were honest with yourself, something about his blood in your mouth was unlocking something deep within you to be dealt with later.

Ever so slowly, and far too soon, Kazuha began to pull away, his tired eyes opening to gaze at you with a small smile, his lips now smeared red as though it were merely red lipstick smudging from the heated kiss. Even in his messy state he looked absolutely ethereal, leaving you unable to tear your eyes away.

His one hand slides from your hair to gently cradle your face in his palm, his gaze slowly lowering to your own lips. In silence, he brushes his thumb along your bottom lip, gently pulling at the soft flesh with interest. You can feel your cheeks burn more as you realize after all that, you were likely covered in it too. As he always does, he notices your unspoken realization and he laughs softly, the sound coming out even more quietly than usual as he lifts his gaze to meet yours once more.

“Come now, don't be shy,” He murmurs, and you can hear the slight rasp in his voice. The wandering samurai pauses to lean close to press a quick, tender little kiss to your stained lips once more, pulling away with the softest of smiles. “I hope you don't mind my sudden appearance like this. It's just that… after storms and trials, I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather come home to.”

[good-beanswrites]

john x fuuta ?👉👈 or 090309

I love the dynamic between them all, thank you for the request! I went with an earlier meeting for them (well, one of the first times Fuuta's aware of speaking with John, at least). As much as I joke about Fuuta being starstruck by his strength in the attack, I tried to take a more serious route for the "something to rely on" vibe.

John’s eyes flicked over Fuuta, sprawled out on his bedding and looking up expectantly.

“Man, you look like shit.”

Fuuta scowled deeper. “I asked for the reason you’re here in the middle of the fucking night, not your opinion.”

“That is the reason I came.”

Somehow, amid all the other things he had to worry about given the horror of the past few days and exile that followed, Mikoto had still found the time to lose sleep over Fuuta’s condition. John had always liked the guy, but he wasn’t in the business of watching over people he didn’t truly care about. He didn’t know what Mikoto saw in him to cause such an overreaction.

Though, with the futon dragged to the bars of the cell, and bathing him in the dim light of the guard’s tower, it was becoming clear that Mikoto’s concern was indeed warranted. Fuuta appeared deathly. The fresh injuries had been bandaged, but there were stains where blood was beginning to seep through. His eye – the one that had survived the ordeal – was bloodshot and rimmed with dark bags. His hair was as tangled as the rumpled hoodie it poked out of.

Fuuta was still staring in anticipation. It took John a moment to understand why. 

“You recognize me.”

“No shit. Mikoto came in here like a fumbling idiot earlier today. He wanted to make sure I was okay or whatever. Like I’d be okay after what happened!” He paused, a clanging from someone else’s cell briefly distracting him. “But you… the way you carry yourself… it’s different.”

“Not that different. I’m here for the same reason.”

The plan was simple. Once Fuuta slept, Mikoto would relax, and everyone would be happy. If it turned out to be his injuries keeping him awake, John didn’t mind crushing Fuuta’s pride and explaining his weakness to the doctor to get more painkillers. If it was noisy neighbors, he’d teach one of those girls a lesson the following day. If the problem was just plain insomnia, well, John’s swinging arm was still completely functional...

“I just want to make sure you’re sleeping.”

“Don’t tell me you’re as disgustingly sentimental as him.”

John’s expression twitched. He didn’t appreciate the condescension. That was Mikoto’s most admirable trait, after all – offering help to others even when he was falling apart himself. He was so selfless, so self-sacrificial. It was no wonder John felt compelled to do the same for him. But Fuuta…

“Ugh, he’s always trying to be buddy-buddy with everyone around here, it makes me sick. Nice words don’t do shit. Look where his friendship with Kotoko got him, eh? That’s what these fools still don’t understand – you need to face these things head-on.”

“Oi, don’t be hard on me just for caring.” He didn’t say it as any sort of gentle encouragement; it was a command, and Fuuta understood. He snapped his attention away from where he’d been peering around the bars. “The world needs more people with that kindness. That optimistic view of life, of others, no matter what – it’s why I’ll do everything I can to save me.”

Silence stretched after the intense comment. Fuuta was looking away again, and John couldn’t read him. When he did speak, his voice came out more defeated than expected.

“Tch. Well. Not all of us have that luxury.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

His eyebrows raised.

Cheeks reddening, Fuuta hurried to add, “I mean someone to have your back like that. I wish I could be half as relaxed as that, but I can’t afford to let my guard down. I need to be strong myself, I don’t have anyone else to take care of my problems for me.”

It hit him suddenly, that everything came down to that. Relief washed over him, now that a clear, easy, (and nonviolent) solution had presented itself.

“What if you did? I could take over your little sentry duty for the night.”

“W-what do you –?”

He gestured to where Fuuta was laying. “No need to play dumb. You’ve been keeping an eye on everything, even the other side of the guard’s tower. The sounds from around cell eight have caught your attention. You’re positioned so you can see cell six, but haven’t moved all the way over, because cell ten has easiest access from the right.”

“The others would say it’s pointless, or that they’re handling it. I’m not buying it, though. I don’t care if they say it’s crazy of me to do.”

“I think…” John’s posture softened. “I think it’s very selfless of you.”

He was constantly amazed at Fuuta’s tendency to react to everything as if it were some world-shattering statement just told to him.

“So?” He prodded before Fuuta’s expression could grow any more wide-eyed. “How about it?”

 “I mean… they told me about the attacks… what you did…”

John set his jaw. No matter how many times it had happened in the past few days, it still stung to see how quickly people turned against him because of the fight. He thought they all had come to terms with each other’s capabilities for violence, but as usual, the moment he showed his true face, the world turned against him.

Of course Fuuta could never relax knowing such a violent and unpredictable person was sitting right beside him through the night. It was a miracle he hadn’t panicked immediately at the sight of yet another cold, towering figure appearing at his door in the middle of the night.

John stretched his right arm across his chest. It looked like his original solution still stood. Fuuta said problems should be faced head-on. Surely he’d understand this was for his own good.

“…Yeah, okay.” Fuuta gave a decisive nod. He beckoned with a jerk of his head. “I trust you.”

“I –” John blinked. “What?”

“You understand me. You understand what it takes to be in a place like this.” His gaze flit away momentarily. “You’re incredibly strong. You’re prepared, and have good instincts, and your confidence is –" Noticing how intently John was listening, he interrupted himself to bark, “but don’t think I couldn’t handle this on my own! It’s only because you offered, and it’s a smart move. I’ll just sleep for a bit, we can take shifts. Wake me in three hours, okay?”

“Fine by me.” A little lying was definitely better than what else he’d had in mind.

Fuuta moved his futon over a few feet so John could settle into his carefully chosen spot on the ground. Everything was all set to begin keeping watch, until a new sound rose up to drown out the other noises in the panopticon – soft snoring from beside him.

He glanced over in disbelief at the instantaneous security Fuuta had sunk into. All the tension had melted away from his face and shoulders. He lay completely at peace.

John had achieved his goal. He should be celebrating. Instead, he couldn’t help heaving a heavy sigh.

How did he end up with two self-destructive idiots to watch over?

[518062]

izuku taking care of little kacchan for the first time, who is nervous because he doesn’t want izuku to hate him or look at him weird. but he’s also struggling to hide this secret.

“do you trust me?” izuku asks. kacchan’s hiding his face with his favourite plushie. the silence helps kacchan regulate his feelings, as does izuku’s warm hand in his hair.

of course he trusts izuku, but isn’t this weird? he’s acting like a five year old. it only feels logical for izuku to leave him alone. kacchan’s always so alone. he’s used to it, but now izuku’s seen him, and he aches for someone to care, wants izuku to be that someone.

“i understand if this is difficult for you, baby,” izuku says, and the pet name makes kacchan’s heart go wild. he’s never had a caregiver before, and izuku’s so kind, never judging him, not even when he’s big and mean. “i can leave if you’re uncomfortable—”

“no,” kacchan moves the plushie away, interrupting izuku and wrapping his arms around his chest. they’re sitting on the couch, and kacchan needs izuku’s lap. he feels shame, but cannot hide this want. “don’t go,” he commands, but his voice is timid, eyes brimming with tears.

“i’m not going anywhere, my love. i wouldn’t do that to you.” izuku’s voice is so sweet. it caresses kacchan’s ears and makes him feel fuzzy. izuku puts his hands on kacchan’s back, rubbing it slowly, smelling like their shared bodywash—he smells like home.

so they sit together, holding each other, listening to steady breaths. kacchan can’t believe he could’ve had this if he wasn’t so scared. izuku makes him feel cared for, big or small.

[saetoru]

the first night al-haitham spends with you, he’s unsure what to do with his arms.

“just wrap this one around me here,” you giggle, maneuvering his arm to curl under you. he does so stiffly, laying on his side like a log as you press close against his body. “now lay the other one over me.”

he does—and by that, he simply plops his other arm to lay flat over your torso.

“this is a rather awkward arrangement, don’t you think?” he raises a brow.

“it’s because you’re laying like a robot. loosen your limbs,” you huff, “you might as well eat nuts and bolts for breakfast.”

he’s not good at these kinds of things. he wants to tell you that—that if you’re looking for a boyfriend to hold hands and cuddle with, he’s probably not the best candidate. or the second best. or even the twentieth. he’s probably the last person on the list that you could get intimate with.

yet here you are, curling his arm around you like there’s any hope of him getting this right.

“are you sure this is—”

“here, i have a better idea,” you interrupt. suddenly, you’re hands are shoving him away, making him blink as you roll him around to turn and face away from you.

“what are you—” your arms wrap around him, and your chin rests on his shoulder as you press a gentle kiss to his skin. it’s warm, feeling you pressed against him like this. it’s nice and comforting and it feels like home.

and sure, maybe he lays a little stiff, maybe he’s unsure what do with his arms as he awkwardly lays there on his side, but you wrap yourself around him tightly, pressing a few kisses to the side of his head as you smile against his hair. he can feel you—he can count the beats of your heart and if he tries hard enough, he can feel the way the rhythmic pounding is just as quick as his.

“there,” you murmur, satisfied with yourself. a part of him feels he should turn back around and get it right—that he should be holding you and not the other way around.

but then you pull him closer against your chest, and he can’t help but melt into you. “this will get uncomfortable for your arms rather quickly,” he points out.

“shh. just sleep,” you click your teeth.

he thinks it’ll be harder to sleep with someone here, someone breathing and moving against him and keeping him locked in place. but oddly enough, he falls asleep quicker than usual that night—and every night after too.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

will have to cook up a drabble for a very special birthday boy . goken angst postponed

[obsessedwhyyes]

Call me debauched or depraved, but I really fancy writing something about Astarion and, dare I say it...

Hand-holding. Ugh.

I've just got a bad case of the warm fuzzies today.