#mod is tired. i apologize if this makes no sense

[habitual-creatures]

HABIT!!! SCRIMBLO!! SKRUNKLY GUY!! HAVE SOME MUFFINS I MADE FOR YOU :D :3

(Tooootally not a random picture I found on Pinterest)

OOH. MUFFINS.

CHOCOLATE MUFFINS. THOSE LOOK DELICIOUS.

...I want muffins. Those look good...

...

ANYWAYS,

WHAT IS "SCRIMBLO" I KNOW SKRUNKLY... WHAT IS "SCRIMBLO" IT BETTER NOT BE BAD.

[ REGARDS, HABIT ]

[ticklishshenanigansau]

LaughterLand - Chapter 23: Playtime

(story by Mod Secret, art by Mod Yosh)

They ran and ran for what must have been miles. By this point, the burning cottage was so far out of sight, they couldn't even make out the glow of the flames. Dark clouds covered the jungle around them in shadows, though the vibrant colors were still very visible.

Being tucked in Papyrus's battle body, Sans could feel his brother's Soul thumping hard with every step the younger skeleton took. Papyrus very purposefully ignored the tired ache in his legs, as well as the burning in his chest from practically hyperventilating with heavy panting. He was more determined than ever to get his brother as far away from danger as physically possible. But despite not being able to turn his head, Sans could tell that they had to be well out of harm's way by now. The last thing he wanted was for Papyrus to overexert himself, especially when he had already been through so much.

"Pap?" Sans quietly spoke up.

Papyrus kept running, seeming to not have heard him.

"Papyrus?"

Sans spoke a little louder, but still, Papyrus kept running. The younger skeleton was completely stuck in his own mindset, his anxiety screaming at him to keep running, as if he was still within sight of the burning cottage. His sole purpose of protecting his older brother completely overpowering his need to rest and recover.

"Papyrus!!"

Sans finally shouted, snapping his brother out of his trance. Suddenly unaware of how his feet were positioned, Papyrus let out a startled cry as he tripped over himself and fell to the ground with a loud THUD!

Sans flew out of his battle body and skidded over the dirt, landing just a few feet away from him.

"Sans!"

Papyrus gasped, pulling himself up from the ground and scrambling to pick up his brother again. He carefully examined the doll in his hands, trying to be mindful of any possible tears he might have caused.

"Sans, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to throw you," Papyrus fretted, looking over Sans intensely.

"Pap, it's okay, I'm fine," Sans reassured him.

It was so strange being picked up and handled like this. Even if it did make him uncomfortable, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"Really!" Sans insisted as he was turned over a second time. "Compared to those freaks back there trying to tear me limb from limb, that was pretty much nothing."

A crestfallen look washed over Papyrus's face recalling everything that led up to this moment. He felt a sincere sense of guilt rising up within him remembering how helpless he was in trying to rescue Sans from Dropwart's merciless tickling, and again when he lured the Ghost Children to the impromptu tug-of-war. Sans noticed the sudden change in his brother's expression, if he could have raised an eyebrow, he would have.

"Hey, what's that look for?" he asked.

Papyrus couldn't help but sniffle as he stared down at the doll that used to be his brother. Another guilty thought crossed his mind, remembering that it was almost him that was turned into a doll first. If Sans hadn't stepped in to swallow the potion on his behalf, maybe his big brother wouldn't have gone through all of that trouble and pain.

"Oh, Sans, I … I'm so sorry, brother…." Tears began filling his sockets as he gently spoke. "It should have been me that was turned into this doll, not you. And maybe … maybe if you had been spared, you could have gotten us out of there faster, I just…." He faltered as two little tears trickled down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry…."

"Aww, Papyrus...."

Touched by his brother's apology, Sans wished more than anything that he could wrap his arms around him in a tight hug. Instead, he could only lay there, watching his brother's tears hit the ground as they fell.

“Hey,” Sans responded gently, waiting for Papyrus to look at him again. “You did just fine, Papyrus. You got us out of there, and that’s what counts the most.”

“B-But…,” Papyrus whimpered. “What if we can’t find our way home … or worse! What if you’re stuck like that forever? And…. And it’s all my fault.…”

“Hey, this is not your fault Papyrus,” Sans replied.

He wanted so badly to take his brother’s face in his hands and look at him with that same reassuring soft expression that always helped to calm him down. It was so infuriating not being able to move even a facial feature. But he didn’t want Papyrus to take the blame for this, not for a single second.

“This didn’t happen because of you,” Sans reiterated. “It’s this place, and the insane nutjobs who live here.” Papyrus hung his head shamefully, fearful tears still trickling down his cheekbones.

“Hey, Pap, look at me.”

Papyrus obeyed, although it was still hard for him to see Sans in this helpless doll form. Still, Sans hoped against hope that he could somehow still convey a message of comfort and understanding through the lifeless doll eyes.

“One way or another, you and I are gonna get out of here,” Sans said firmly. “It might take awhile, we might run into who-even-knows what … but we WILL find our way back home.”

“You … you promise?” Papyrus sniffled, wiping away the last of his bright orange tears.

“I promise, buddy,” Sans replied. He felt himself trying to shift into a grin as a funny thought crossed his mind. “Hey, it’s not all bad being a ragdoll, you know.”

Sans snickered as he noticed Papyrus’s eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I mean, now I actually have an excuse for laying around and being lazy.”

“Oh my gosh, Sans!” Papyrus rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but suppress an amused snicker. “As if you didn’t have enough excuses already!”

Sans let out a loud chuckle, a sense of pride growing in his chest from finally getting his brother to cheer up.

“Yep, I can see it now….” His tone shifted to suddenly imitate Papyrus. “Sorry Undyne, Sans can’t come to sentry duty right now, he’s a doll.”

“Sans,” Papyrus’s tone shifted to a playful warning tone.

“No, I don’t mean his charming personality,” Sans continued to imitate his brother. “I mean he’s actually a doll, I sure hope dolls like spaghetti!”

“Shut up, you!” Papyrus teasingly scolded, though Sans couldn’t mistake the playful grin growing on the younger skeleton’s face.

“Come on, even with these eyes I know you’re smiling!” Sans teased after another hearty chuckle.

“I am nahahat!” Papyrus insisted, his burst of laughter betraying his words. He shook off the hilarity, attempting to compose himself. But the grin snuck up on him again as he stood there holding his brother. “Jeez, how are you still this annoying when you’re in this form?” he giggled.

“Aw come on bro,” Sans smirked, though his face wouldn’t show it. “I’m just … TOYING with you! Heheheheheheh!”

“Oh, that is SO IT! You come here!”

Papyrus gripped onto Sans with one hand and began skittering across his ribs with his other hand. Sans erupted with laughter, still temporarily forgetting that he was powerless to defend himself against the brotherly attack.

“AGH! Nohohohohohoho!! Ahahaha! Pahahap! Stahahahap!! Ahahahaha!! C-Come ahahahn!! I cahahan’t mohohohohove!! Aaahahahaha!!”

“Oh! Whoops!” Papyrus immediately pulled his hand away, an orange blush forming across his cheekbones. “S-Sorry about that, Sans. I guess I just … forgot?”

Sans lay there in his brother’s open palm taking in grateful breaths. The playful energy leaving his bones buzzing with excitement rather than the harsh exhaustion that the other tickle attackers had left him with. Sans stifled an amused snort, partially letting his brother know that there were no hard feelings.

“You…. You forgot that I was a motionless doll?” he teased.

Papyrus in turn held back a small giggle. He had to admit, even he found the concept to be rather hilarious. Getting after Sans for his ridiculous jokes just came so naturally to the younger skeleton, even going so far as to forget that Sans was in a totally helpless state of being. Though he was grateful to know that his brother wasn’t upset with him for essentially taking advantage of his weakened form.

“Well … it’s not my fault you were asking for it!” Papyrus retorted with a chuckle.

“Oh, if I could move my arms, I’d show you ‘asking for it’!” Sans shot back.

He once again tried to will his body to move, even letting out a couple of straining noises. But his doll body remained unresponsive and limp. Papyrus snickered again at Sans’s helpless noises.

“Well, for right now you can’t,” he replied. “So I’d tone down the jokes if I were you, brother.”

“Or what?” Sans challenged.

A knowing sense of anticipation engulfed his Soul as he just realized what he had set up for himself. Papyrus grinned mischievously down at the doll before positioning a single finger at the bottom of Sans’s right foot.

“You really wanna find out, brother?” Papyrus shot Sans a knowing smirk, threatening to wiggle his finger along his brother’s sole.

Sans let out a small whine as he felt Papyrus’s finger tap along his foot. He didn’t understand it himself, why he seemed to be asking for this kind of trouble with his teasing. Was playing with Papyrus really this therapeutic to him? He thought he hated being tickled. But … he did love to laugh, and he loved making Papyrus happy as an ultimate bonus. But wouldn’t being tickled like this send him into another blind panic? It was all rather conflicting.

“N-No,” Sans finally stammered. Agreeing that it was better to just leave well enough alone.

“So you’re done making stupid puns then?” Papyrus asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Toe-tally.”

Sans gasped, panic zapped through his system as if he had just shocked himself. It slipped out so easily, it barely even counted as a pun, he didn’t even mean to! But the look on Papyrus’s face was enough to tell him that it was far too late to backpedal.

“Oh no. Nononononononoo—AHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHOHO STAHAHAP!! STAHAHAP IT!! I’M SORRY—HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!”

Papyrus scribbled along Sans’s foot, it was fascinating to him how just one finger could cover the entirety of Sans’s sole.

“Oh yeah, I bet you’re sorry, brother!” Papyrus teased. “You just HAD to keep pushing it, didn’t you? Now take this!”

Papyrus used two fingers to pinch along Sans’s defenseless toes, causing the older skeleton to shriek and panic.

“AAAAGHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO NAHAHAT THEHEHERE!! PAP!! AHAHAHAHA!! C-C-COME AHAHAHAN, STAHAHAP!! AHAHAHAHA!! I-I-I SAHAHAHAID—I SAID AHEE WAHAHAS SORRY-HEEHEEHEEHEE!!”

As Sans lay there helplessly laughing, even he had to admit, there was something oddly soothing about letting it all go in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Sure, it tickled a lot, and the breaching of his toes was hovering just on the cusp of being overwhelming. But at the same time, Sans could feel the stress and fear melting away with every unbridled chuckle that was unleashed from him. Despite the panic that Papyrus had full control to tickle anywhere that he wanted, Sans was in a state of comfort knowing that, unlike every other creature they had encountered, he was never in danger of his brother going too far with him.

“Nyeheheh! Alright, alright, I’d say that’s punishment enough.” Papyrus finally released Sans’s foot, not wanting his brother to feel like he was being tortured in their odd little game. “Are you alright, Sans?”

Sans was in a strange state of euphoria feeling the tingles steadily leaving his foot. Instinctively, he wanted to reach down and rub them off by force. But seeing how that wasn’t an option, he just lay there, a few stray giggles spilling out of him as the sensation of his foot returned to normal.

“N-No … no fair…,” Sans breathed out in response. “G-Getting me … when … I’m like … this … heh.”

Papyrus giggled in response, he, too, was filled with a sense of fun. Despite knowing that he could easily overwhelm his brother and possibly cause the same amount of panic and distress that their previous adversaries had caused them, he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed teasing him like this.

“You know what that little Ghost Girl called you back at the cottage?” he said, tucking Sans back into his battle body in an effort to keep walking.

“What’s that?” Sans sighed, his breath finally caught up with him.

“Nyeheh! She called you a Tickle-Me-Skelly!” Papyrus chuckled. “Maybe we should sell you as a prototype for such a toy!”

“Oh jeez!” Sans laughed. “That’s all I need, the whole Underground knowing about my tickle spots.”

“What? I think you would be a wonderful children’s toy, Sans!”

Papyrus reached two fingers up to poke along the opposite sides of Sans’s neck. Sans giggled, still forgetting that his new body wouldn’t allow him to squirm.

“Eeeeheeheeheehee!! Hehehey!” he chortled. He could feel a soft blush starting to form across his cheekbones, though he was unsure if it was showing or not. “Brohohoho! Cut it ohohohout! Hahaha!”

“Nyeheheheh! Sans, you’re so cute!” Papyrus laughed, pulling his hands away and trekking along.

“Wh-What? Cute?!” Sans abruptly stopped himself from laughing. “Come on, bro! I’m not cute!”

He was grateful for the moment that Papyrus wasn’t looking directly at him, just in case a blush was fully visible on his doll face. If there was anything that truly got under his nonexistent skin, it was whenever his brother would call him cute.

“Oh, Sans! You’re adorable!” Papyrus teased, knowing his brother’s disdain for such name-calling. “Even before you were turned into a doll you were adorable!”

“I am not!” Sans argued. “Don’t call me that Papyrus, or you’ll be sorry!”

He knew that he was in no position to make such threats, but he was so used to dishing out some much-needed vengeance every time his little brother dared to refer to him as cute or adorable.

“Oh, I’ll be sorry, huh?” Papyrus stopped and reached into his battle body to pull Sans out. “What are you gonna do about it … LITTLE brother?” he teased.

“Ohoho, you are SO in for it when I get back to my regular body!” Sans playfully vowed.

“Maybe,” Papyrus giggled. “But in the meantime, now that I’M the big brother, I think it’s time I taught you a lesson.” He hovered his empty hand over Sans’s body, wriggling his fingers in a threatening manner.

Sans gasped, all of his senses immediately on high alert. Again, he tried so hard to force his body to move, to defend himself, anything! But he laid there exposed and totally vulnerable.

“Bro…,” Sans weakly muttered, eyes fixated on Papyrus’s fingers. “Don’t…. Don’t you dare! I mean it!”

He was genuinely panicking, but at the same time excitement bubbled up inside, and he couldn’t contain the subtle laughter that was caught in his throat. He would never admit it, but he missed these play fights that he would share with Papyrus, and he wished that he could at least move enough to get him back.

“Then admit it, Sans!” Papyrus grinned impishly. “Admit that you’re cute, then maybe Big Brother Papyrus will go easy on you.”

“No way!” Sans immediately blurted out without a thought. “You know how much I hate that, it’s not gonna happen!”

Sans felt his Soul thumping somewhere deep within his doll body. He knew this meant a merciless tickle attack, but somehow, the thought of that didn’t irk him nearly as bad as what Papyrus had wanted him to admit. If it meant holding onto at least a small part of his dignity, he would take it.

“Alright! You asked for it!”

Papyrus wriggled his fingers along Sans’s ribcage, gently scraping along each bone eliciting sharp giggles from the older skeleton.

“Eeeeheeheeheeheehee!! Nohohohoho!! No, Papyruhuhuhus!! Dohohohohon’t!”

“Nyeh heh heh! Oh my gosh Sans, you’re just the cutest little Tickle-Me-Skelly!” Papyrus teased as he started skittering along Sans’s sides.

“Ahahahahaha!! Nohoho I’m nahahahahat!! Hahahahahaha!! Stahahahap—Stop cahahahalling me thahahahat!! Ahahahahahaha!!”

Sans could tell that Papyrus was being gentle with him on purpose. While he appreciated that his brother was doing his best to take care of him in this predicament, the light feathery tickles were worse than he had anticipated. It drove him absolutely crazy that he couldn’t so much as bang a fist on the ground. Nothing alleviated the effect his brother’s soft fingers had on his upper body.

“Aaaaagghahahaha!! PAPYRUS!! Ahahahaha!! Stahahahap!! Stahahahap it!! It-It reheheheheally really tihihihihickles!!”

“Nyeh heh heh heh! Better admit it, Sans!” Papyrus giggled mischievously. “It’s not gonna stop until you say how cute you are!”

“Nohohohohohoho!!” Sans guffawed harshly. “N-N-Nehehehehehever!!”

As embarrassing as it was to be giggling like an idiot from such gentle teasing, Sans refused to give in to his brother’s request. He knew deep down that his stubbornness was ultimately getting the better of him, and there was no telling how much more he could truly take.

“Oh, ‘never’, huh?” Papyrus teased, letting up on Sans’s torso and giving him a chance to breathe. “Well I doubt you’ll be able to say no to this!”

The younger skeleton lifted up Sans’s arms until they rested lifelessly over his head, completely exposing his underarms.

At first Sans breathed in, grateful for the break. But once he realized where his arms were positioned, a new wave of panic overtook him in an instant. He frantically gazed up at Papyrus, though his look of desperation was lost in the doll’s still face. Papyrus giggled playfully as he held up two wriggling fingers, both aimed directly at Sans’s helpless hollows.

“No…,” Sans practically whispered, his voice fraught with quiet terror. “Oh no. Nononononono! Papyrus, you wouldn’t dare!”

“Ohohoho, wouldn’t I?” Papyrus playfully taunted, threatening to jab his fingers into his underarms right then and there.

“Agh!! Ahahaha! No!” Sans shrieked with giggles as the anticipation got to him. Papyrus nearly burst with laughter himself at his brother’s hilarious reaction.

“You gonna admit it, Sans?” he teased.

“Plehehehehease!!” Sans couldn’t stop himself from giggling. Even if Papyrus hadn’t yet touched him, he could almost feel it happening subconsciously.

“Papyruhuhuhus, noooo!!” he whined, though his tone told Papyrus that underneath it all, he was giddy. “Please! Please! You knohohohohow how sensitive my underahahaharms are! Ahahaha!!”

“Oh, I’ll be gentle, brother.” Papyrus’s fingers inched closer, nearly causing Sans to squeal.

“Ahahaha! Nohoho! That’s what I’m afraid of! Plehehease!!”

He tried to hold back his urge to squeal, but his mind reeled with playful panic as he was already denied the reflex to squirm. It was almost too much to handle, and he loved it. Despite everything that they had gone through, he couldn’t deny how much he adored this teasing game his brother was playing with him. Though he would have preferred being able to fight back and attack Papyrus on equal terms, it was therapeutic being able to laugh and have fun with his best friend again. Especially after going through so much horror.

“Last chance, Sans. Admit how cute you are … or pay the price!” Papyrus made a show of wriggling his fingers a mere inch above Sans’s underarms, causing the older skeleton to finally unleash that pent-up squeal.

“EEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!! Noooo!! I wohohohon’t do it!!” Sans shrieked.

He held onto his dignity for an eighth of a second before Papyrus finally scraped his two slender fingers along his underarms.

“WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!! PAP-PAPYRUHUHUHUHUHUS!! NAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Nyeh heh heh heh! This is what you get for being so cute, brother!” Papyrus laughed victoriously as he scribbled and swirled around Sans’s helpless tickle spot.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEASE!! HAHAHA!! I-I-I CAHAHAHAN’T!! I CAN’T!! AHAHAHAHAHA!! PL-PLEHEHEASE BROHOHO!! IT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAD!!”

Despite his pleas, Sans secretly knew he was having a blast, especially once he heard Papyrus practically laughing alongside him.

“Nyeh heh heh! Tickle tickle tickle tiiiiiickle, Sans!” he teased, switching up between scribbling, swirling and poking around to keep Sans on his toes.

Sans squealed again, with a squeak that surprised even him. He felt mirthful tears starting to gather in his little doll eyes. But knowing that he could do nothing to wipe them away, he let them fall freely. Startled by this, Papyrus immediately pulled his fingers back.

“Oh no…!” he gasped. “Oh … oh, Sans, I’m so sorry!” His face immediately became crestfallen once more as he stared at the tears that fell from Sans’s face onto his hand.

Unaware of Papyrus’s emotional shift, Sans just laid there taking in giggling breaths as the tingles in his underarms steadily faded away. Once he was able to shake away the euphoric giddiness, he looked up to see Papyrus’s worried expression, finally realizing that Papyrus was afraid that he had overstepped his boundaries.

Although Sans had been tickled to the point of tears, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that Papyrus had stopped the game. He felt even worse knowing that he caused his brother to think that he had gone too far in his fun. As much as Sans was realizing that he was probably a little overdue for a break, he wanted their one-sided tickle fight to end on a high note.

“H…. Hey…,” he steadily breathed out, causing Papyrus to look up in interest. “Y-You’ll … never … get me to … say it!” he teased breathily.

“What?” Papyrus’s face shifted to one of intrigue; was Sans really saying what he thought he was saying?

“I’ll…. I’ll never … admit it! No matter … what!”  

Papyrus's eyes began to soften, a wide grin spread across his face as he was now fully aware of Sans's open invitation.

"Oh we'll see about that, brother! Nyeheheheh!!"

Sans let out an excited whimper before he felt all of Papyrus's soft fingertips dancing and scribbling across his entire upper body. Not just his underarms but also his ribs and spine, with Papyrus even taking little breaks to scribble across his neck.

"WAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!! AHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO!! NOHOHOHOHO!! STAHAHAHAP!! STAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!! OHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAHAD!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!"

The free-flowing tears returned to trickle down Sans's soft cheeks, this time the brothers happily ignored them. Papyrus wore an elated grin as he brushed his fingers along Sans's torso. Now knowing that he was doing what no other cursed tickle monster in this whole land could do … making his brother happy.

"Nyeh heh heh! Come on Sans, who's a cute little doll? Better tell me!" he teased, letting his fingers scribble their way under Sans's shirt to poke against his bare ribs.

"OH NOHOHO!!" Sans shrieked. "OH NO!! NONONONONONONOOOOO!! AAAHAHAHAHAHA!! PAPYRUHUHUHUS!!"

Sans's voice became shrill as he felt his brother's nimble fingers play with his now soft and fuzzy rib bones. He let out a silent breathy cackle followed by an abrupt snort once the tip of his index finger slipped between two bones.

"Oh yeah!" Papyrus laughed. "I nearly forgot about your little snorting spot!"

He purposefully dipped his fingers between multiple bones at once causing a symphony of squeaky giggles and snorts to erupt from the older skeleton.

"PLEHEHEHEHEA...!" He trailed off into another snorting fit. "PLEHEA...!! N-NOHOHO!! NO MOHOHOHORE...!! IT TIHIHI...!! IT TI—HAHAHAHAA!! T-TIHIHIHICKLES...! AHAHAHAHA!!"

Slightly fearful that Sans would lose his breath, Papyrus pulled his fingers out of his shirt and instead resumed soft, ginger tickling on his left side. Sans kept giggling, but the snorting and silent laughter had finally ceased.

"Well, brother?" Papyrus intrigued. "Care to say something?"

As much fun as Sans was having, even he knew that he was reaching his limit with this. He was thoroughly satisfied with how cheered up the both of them were, now it was time to end the game.

"Okahahahay!!" he giggled frantically. "I-I-I-heeheeheehee! I'm c-cuhuhuhuhute!! Hahaha!! I'm cute!! Haha!! I'm cuhuhuhuhuhute!! Th-There!! Thehehehere I said ihihit!! Hahahahaha!!"

He hated the fact that he had to say it, and hearing Papyrus's cheer of victory just felt like more salt in the wound.

"Yes!! The Great Papyrus wins again!!"

As Sans lay there greedily taking in breaths of air, the warm euphoria washed over him again. He never knew that being thoroughly tickled by someone he cared about could make him feel this peaceful afterwards. It was the most welcomed change of pace the older skeleton had felt since being here, he didn't really want it to end. Almost feeling the urge to provoke Papyrus further just to get to this moment again. But after another deep inhalation, he decided to give his poor body the break it needed.

"Yeah yeah … whatever…," he breathed out. "Just… Just don't think … I'm gonna … start calling you … my big brother now. You … got that? That's … my job."

Papyrus hummed a little giggle through his nasal cavity and nodded.

"It is," he replied softly, before giving the doll a gentle squeezing hug.

Sans took in the embrace silently, both brothers enjoying the stillness of each other's company. A sudden clap of thunder echoed across the sky, momentarily startling both brothers with a jump.

After a moment of eerie silence, the brothers could hear the pitter patter of light raindrops all around them. It didn't take long before the drizzling drops reached them, lightly sprinkling them with an odd-colored rain. The water was murky and dark, but it seemed to have fragments of fine glitter sprinkled into each individual drop. As if they were getting rained on by a child's leftover watercolor paint.

As the rain danced all around them, they couldn't help but feel the sudden urge to start giggling. The droplets left a light tingling sensation that flared against their bones.

"Heeheeheehee! H-Hehey, what gihives?" Sans giggled, feeling the tingling sensation sprinkling across his body. "Whahahat—Whahahat's t … tickling?"

The sensation was so light, it could only draw out little titters from the skeletons, but it was enough to get Papyrus squirming as the raindrops began trickling down the bare spots of his body.

"I-I-heeheeheehee I thihink it mihihihight be the rahahahain!" he snickered, getting a better look at the glittering navy blue that collected in his empty hand.

"Heheheheheh! Oh you … g-gohohohotta be kidding! Hahahahaha! We're—We're beheheing tickled by rahahahain now? Heheheheheheh!"

Sans so craved the ability to squirm and dance away from the falling raindrops. He was grateful that Papyrus had at least moved his body to face downwards so that no loose drops could get into his sockets. He couldn't imagine the senseless irritation if the tickling sensation had gotten into his eyes.

Papyrus quickly looked around for any means of shelter. Even for a jungle, there wasn't much to go on, they had found themselves in a very open area, where the now growing raindrops easily slid between the overgrown leaves placed high above them.

A few yards into the distance, Papyrus had noticed a large tree trunk, and growing all along it were large red banana leaves, almost twice as big as his head. Holding Sans closely, Papyrus dashed for the odd tree, ducking under one of the larger banana leaves and using it as a makeshift umbrella.

The brothers giggled as the remaining raindrops shook and trickled off of their bodies, but for the moment, they were perfectly sheltered, albeit a little cramped under the single leaf.

"Oh man … and I thought rain … got on my nerves before," Sans joked.

Papyrus let out a playful groan in response.

"Sans, really? Now?"

"Yeah really!" Sans chuckled. "Water you expecting me to do in this situation?"

"You'd better watch it, Sans," Papyrus warned.

Though the way Sans was positioned, he couldn't clearly see his brother's fingers wiggling in a threatening manner.

"Okay, okay," Sans replied with the tone of a big smile. "I'll save those jokes for a rainy day … oh, wait…."

"Oh, that is it!"

Papyrus gently scritched along his brother's ribs again, drawing out another series of semi-panicked laughter from the doll.

"Ahahahahahahaha! Ohoho no! No! Stahahahap it!!"

"You did this to yourself, brother! Nyeh heh heh heh!" Papyrus teased as he fluttered along Sans's sides once more.

Unbeknownst to the pair of laughing skeletons, a small amount of the glittering rainwater was collecting in the banana leaf that had been sheltering them. As it gathered into a small puddle, the texture of the leaf bled into the murky gray liquid, changing its chemistry. The sparkles had all but vanished, and the color changed to a bright red, same as the banana leaf itself.

It was dripping directly onto Sans's left shoulder, but the tingling effects were no longer felt by the older skeleton. In fact, if he wasn't so distracted by Papyrus's ongoing tickle attack, it would have felt like the splash of any ordinary raindrop.

But then something changed.

As Papyrus continued to tickle at Sans's ribs, Sans was still trying to wiggle free out of habit. In an instant, Sans suddenly reached his left arm up and batted at Papyrus's hand with a single small blow before coming back down to rest at his side. Papyrus stopped tickling immediately, staring at Sans's left hand as it rested lifelessly again. Did that just happen … or was he seeing things?

"Sans...?” he quietly muttered. "Did you just … move your arm?"

For a moment Sans just laid there catching his breath in his brother's palm. But upon hearing Papyrus's question, he tried again to move his arm. It wouldn't respond … except for his fingers, his middle and index fingers began to wiggle on command. Sans gasped at the discovery, trying to move other parts of his body experimentally. He could get nothing else to move, however, and even his two fingers were starting to grow lifeless again.

What was happening? Was the magic starting to wear off?

That's when another bright red drop hit his shoulder again. His left elbow lightly twitched in response. The brothers looked up to see the red rainwater collecting in the leaf above them. As the rain came to an end and the clouds parted revealing the sun, their minds, too, became clear and aware.

"Sans, that's it!" Papyrus gasped. "We will find a cure for you right here in this jungle!"

[steaming-system-takes]

what exactly is fear mongering in a plural/system context? if you don't mind answering, or posting if people in the comments could explain?

Fear mongering in this context is the demonization of certain aspects of plurality with the intent of making others (whether it's singlets or younger systems) fear them. One example of this is the "evil alter" stereotype. Another example is fusion. While these things do exist (though persecutors shouldn't be watered down to "evil" in any context) and many systems have experiences with them, they are often used to spark fear in those both within and outside the community.

If anyone would like to elaborate on this in the comments, feel free! It's currently almost 11 pm for us and we're a bit tired, so I apologize if this doesn't make the most sense and/or is difficult to follow. Regardless, I'm happy to help!

Your truly, Mod Green

[ohmyronpa-imagines]

Hi I was the person who requested the Gundham x reader killing game AU awhile ago and I loved what you wrote.

Would I be able to request a Ryoma x reader one shot where the reader stops Kirumi from killing him…. if this is too specific I don’t mind if you do something else, I’m sure I’ll like whatever you write.😸

Here you go, anon! I'm glad you enjoy my work! Also, do y'all like my new icon? Made it myself! (Apologies for it being a little blurry haha!) -Mod Hajime

Reader Saves Ryoma From Kirumi's Murder Attempt (x Reader)

It had all happened so quickly.

You had been having a hard time sleeping since Kaede’s execution and were aimlessly wandering around the academy.

Sure, it was dangerous, but you sincerely doubted that anyone was actively scouting for a random victim.

Unless you had become someone’s target.

A pit formed in your stomach at this idea and you immediately stepped away from the doors that led to a random classroom. Maybe going to your room was safer than being active at night. You rushed back to the dorms but paused when you heard a loud crack coming from a hallway. 

You turned the corner against your better instincts and froze. Kirumi was standing above Ryoma with some long pole, or was it a stick? What you did know was that Ryoma was unconscious and Kirumi was holding a possible murder weapon.

For some reason you didn’t run away to call for help. That’s what a smart person would have done.

But no, you ran straight into danger, nothing but adrenaline and an odd sense of justice fueling your once tired body. Kirumi barely had time to register what was happening by the time you slammed her into the ground.

She struggled against you, both of her eyes visible to you. The maid looked crazed and with an impossible surge of strength, she threw you into the wall. Your head bounced off the drywall and you grunted in pain.

However, when you saw Kirumi going near Ryoma’s unconscious (you hoped) self, the pain dulled and you staggered to your feet. You reached your hands out and shoved her to the ground. With a speed you didn’t remember possessing, you picked up Ryoma and hauled him over your shoulder before running away.

Your heart thrummed in your chest as you ran, leaping up flights of stairs to reach a destination that felt too far away. Was Kirumi following you? Did that even matter right now?

Eventually, after what felt like hours, you reached your dorm, flung the door open, and rushed Ryoma to your bed. You pulled his hat off, which was damp. When you removed your hand, you saw a messy smudge of pink on your fingers and palm alongside the disturbing scent of iron.

Stifling your gag, you checked his hair and saw what looked like a gash in his scalp. Luckily, you had gone into the nurse’s office, stolen a bunch of supplies, and stuffed them into your bathroom before this had happened.

You were hesitant to leave him, but after you finally checked if he was breathing, you rushed to your bathroom and grabbed supplies. Returning with a damp rag, gauze, and some kind of ointment, you got to work.

You really hoped that this wouldn’t make his wound worse.

By the time you finished, your hands were shaking and you were near passing out. You put your first aid things aside and crawled onto your bed, wrapping Ryoma in a layer of blankets and setting his hat on your nightstand.

In your sleep, you were hugging his cushioned body.

When you woke up, you realized that Ryoma was also awake, but he was as still as a statue. You looked down to see him red in the face but with his eyes wide open. Quickly, you asked if he was okay.

“Yeah. What happened? Wasn’t Kiru-” He cut himself off. You got out of bed and changed his bandages, happy to see his wound was minor and had scabbed during the night.

Even though you stayed silent, Ryoma could tell what you were thinking. “Don’t… Don’t blame Kirumi. What she did was out of love for the country.” You raised an eyebrow at this and asked him what he was talking about.

He explained as well as he could, but the obvious concussion was causing him to blank on some parts of information. He also mentioned random names and places that he didn’t recall. You brushed it off as a delusion from getting his head whacked.

But when he said why Kirumi picked him, you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. What did he mean his life meant nothing? And why did his life mean everything to you?

“I’m only a shell of who I used to be. For a cause as noble as hers, it’d be pretty damn shameful to deny her request. So-” You pulled him into a gentle hug, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

It was quiet except for your occasional sniffling as the two of you sat on your bed. After a minute, Ryoma decided to hug you as well, patting your back. He didn’t understand why you were crying. The killing game must’ve finally hit you after days of living in shock.

You parted from your hug and handed him his hat, apologizing for the blood. He shook his head, giving you the faintest hint of a smile. He put it back on his head and sighed.

Ryoma patted his pockets, rubbing his hat when he realized he was missing his candy cigarettes. You sat with him, keeping a close eye on him.

The sound of the Monokuma announcement blared through your ears and you both grumbled about that “damn bear”. 

You stood up and reached your hand out for him. He hesitantly took it and you left your dorm holding hands. He looked away from you and huffed, smiling to himself.

“I guess I’ve still got a ways to go.”

[iexistforidkwhatreason]

Intro Post

My name is Alberto. Most people call me Al, you can call me whatever you want as long as it's not a really fuckin' bad nickname, both in the sense that it's offensive and in the sense that it's just not a nickname I'm comfortable with.

I'm an adult man with He/Him pronouns, I'm multifandom, and if you for some reason want to know my sexuality, I'm still in questioning.

Special interests

Mario, Paper Mario, Miis, Splatoon, Sonic (Although I'm more interested in the antagonists of the series than Sonic himself, to be completely honest with you), Punch-Out, Skylanders, Kirby, and IDFR what else.

Other stuff

- I'm Puerto Rican. English in not my first language. If you see me speaking spanish, that's why.

- I have a short temper, so if something bad happens and I start getting mad, that's why. I apologize.

- My Wii U ID is "LiterallyMiyu" and my main Mii is a redesigned Miyu. It would've been me with my name or similar to it, but the Wii U I got was japanese, and I was trying so hard to make it play games that weren't from the japanese region.

I kept resetting it so many times, it got to the point where I got tired of making my Mii again and again, so I said "screw it" and made my main Wii U Mii this goofball.

The end result was me modding my Wii U 'cuz I couldn't get anything to work. Thanks, region lock.

- I'm not active all the time. If you DM me and I don't respond in a long while, I'm either busy with something and don't want to be interrupted, sleeping, or just taking a moment off the internet.

- I draw.

- If I draw or post something that makes you uncomfy, just tell me about it or simply ignore it. Simple as that.

- We do not speak of most of the art I have drawn and the shit I have said in my teenage years. I was a massive dumbass and edgelord back then, OK?

- We can be friends, yeah, but for the love of God, do not obsess over me. I have had two people do that, and it has not been good, nor was it close to good.

- You can use my art as inspiration, but FFS, do not steal my art.

- "Can I draw something for you?" Yes, unless what you want to draw falls under the category of stuff that makes me uncomfortable, makes me mad, or makes me remember something from the past that I would prefer not to remember. If so, then no, you cannot.

- Do not ask me about HoneyStarlightz/Lumii. I don't want anything to do with them as much as they don't want anything to do with me.

With that, I leave you with an image of my Mii.

[pathfinderswiftpen]

Rejection sensitive dysphoria is a bitch

I posted a meme in a literary discussion server that I'm a part of, relating to the themes of the book in our book club, and I misread the audience, or part of it, forgetting that not everyone can handle farcical dark humor, and one of the mods reached out saying that several people messaged them about being disturbed and horrified, and said mod asked me to not post stuff like that again. Fortunately the mod acknowledged the irony that the passage we discussed had even more horrifying content than the thing I posted. I asked if I needed to apologize or take it down and was told it wasn't necessary. But now I feel like the Worst Person Ever (of course false) and that everyone there hates me (untrue; we had a book club meeting tonight and my messages were engaged with, positively, as normal)

Ohhh I get it now

It goes back to breaking social rules that you didn't know were there and the thought/fear that other people will be mad at you and only talk about it behind your back and never actually approach you about it. I have lost several friends this way so it makes sense to feel this way, but it feels goddamn awful. I do wish the people bothered would have just said something in the chat or to me? I'm SO TIRED of, when I do something out of line or bothersome to someone, the bothered parties approach a person in an administrative role about it instead of just talking to me? It feels like "YOU'RE IN TROUBLE" when no? Not really? Set it right and move on? It feels like a big thing when it doesn't have to be. UGH. Fucking fuck. Blegh.

OK now have a good cry, ground myself, and go to bed.

POST SCRIPT EDIT

BUT ALSO YOU KNOW WHAT? This book we're discussing is in part about fucking censorship! The Name of the Rose discusses authorities who control what content people are allowed to see based on whether or not that authority thinks they can handle it or would be led astray by it. I just. The irony. You can handle reading the horrifying things in the book but not a single line of an obviously farcical meme? 🧐🧐🧐 *Giant Sigh* fortunately it wasn't taken down because it does very much relate to and even rephrase one of the major themes of the book. But good grief, people, we are adults and should be able to handle ourselves when something upsets us. UGH.

I realized this when I went back to see if I could spoiler it, or re post it with the offending part cropped out. I could spoiler it but thinking about cropping it out really got me on the irony of censoring it. Sigh. Can't win 'em all

[olderthannetfic]

I need help deciding something, im not sure whether this is the right place for it but here it goes.

I'm in a fandom that is about 10ish years old, went through a decline and then saw a huge surge at the beginning of 2021 because it got a (very good) show based on the books. While the canon endgame is good ol' friends-to-lovers, the most popular ship is an enemies and lovers with a bunch of 'problematic' elements. It's so popular that it has more fics on ao3 than any other ship in the entire universe in which the story is set.

Now, most of the fans of the ship hang out in a discord server, and I, being obsessed with the ship, joined it in early June. Tumblr doesn't have much content for the ship because of the harassment faced by the fans by antis when the show was released and I detest using twitter so the server is my only contact with that series.

And, everything is cool. The members are super chill, extremely helpful, the mods are great and have excellent events every month for the members, and I've had an overall good experience. I'm not very active, I only talk about once ever 2 or 3 days, but I read all the messages because they tend to be quite interesting.

Now here is where the problems begin: on different platforms, on three separate occasions, I have heard negativity about the server. Once on ao3, an author complained about the server in her notes, and when some fandom newbie asked her to explain she said the mods were power hungry jerks who silenced anyone they didn't like and there was a lot of negativity, and they looked down on everyone who wrote dead dove. On tumblr, a person claimed that they were the founder of the server and they got bullied by the members and made fun of by the mods because they wanted a channel for darker topics (dead dove, underage etc) while this founder did not, and the overall experience left them traumatized. One of my friends from the server left because she said that she had issues with mods and didn't like who she had to be in order to stay in the server.

Which... sounds bad, except the ao3 and tumblr person's reasons seem to directly contradict each other with respect to dead dove? And the server does have a dead dove channel (you have to take a role for it, so you can leave the role and it will be hidden any time) although they restrict underage but that's because of discord's TOS. The server is very much proship so I don't see them looking down on dead dove doesn't make sense. And the tumblr person claims to be the founder, but the server has two people marked as founders and there is absolutely no trace of this third person. None. Not even a mention of x. Neither is there any trace of an argument regarding these topics. As for the person who left the server... she was a good person, but a little insensitive and very likely to jump to extremes, which was why the mods had warned her a couple of times not to do so (some of her statements could come across as ableist even if she didn't mean anything like that). I'd ask her if there was more but I don't really know her that well. The mods are very hands off, only occasionally asking to shift to appropriate channels if required, that too not often. They've been great, and they put tons of effort into creating events and stuff, more than I have seen in any fandom.

I won't say that there had never been issues. I found that sometime last year, there was a pretty big ruckus. There was a BNF, whose works became so popular that it was all anyone would talk about so some people got tired (there were like 200 members back then). So discussions of the BNF's work got relegated to a thread. Later on tumblr some other authors criticized the bnf's work (all her fics reeked of internalized misogyny even if her writing was good, so it's not surprising) thinking she'd never see it (she was on twitter not tumblr), but somehow she came to know and brought it up in the server. The other authors apologized, but then some others got into the discussion and it got into a whole ass free for all where some were siding with the bnf saying how unfair it was that her work had to go into threads instead of the normal channels, and how others mocked her and how she'd been patient. Another group sided with the other authors and said that they had a right to criticism, they hadn't done it on a platform where the bnf would see it anyways, and the bnf had created unnecessary drama by dragging the issues into the server. Long story short, bnf quit the fandom, a number of people got kicked, and 'leave your issues at the door' got added to the server rules, and it was suggested that criticism be done on private groups and stuff where others wouldnt see it (not a rule because the mods made it clear they would not handle any drama outside of the server). There was a little disagreement between two members when one of the actors got accused of being racist (unfairly, imo, based on a couple of paparazzi pics, and the accusations have since been blown away). But that was all. I could find no other records of controversies or bullying, and I spent quite a bit of time searching.

Overall my personal experience has been positive in the server. The closest you get to a disagreement is just people crackshipping the craziest ships and making up increasingly ridiculous scenarios for crack while others go 'MY EYEEEES' or 'BRAIN BLEACH BRAIN BLEACH' but it's all in fun and those members are very close friends who know there's no ill will. And yet every time I see criticism of the server I feel hesitant and wonder whether I'm deluding myself, whether I'm so desperate to have contact with this fandom that I'm turning a blind eye to stuff (even though I don't think I am). But not one, not two, but three different people have said these issues exist on the server, and while one or two could be clowns, ALL of them can't be, right? Not to mention the drama last year.

I don't know, I love being on the server, but whenever I see things like this it makes me uneasy. I'm not sure what to do, I don't want to be a part of it if all these accusations are true.

--

Wait and see, I guess. A bunch of people complaining about a space could mean anything from a literal conspiracy to smear its name to the natural disagreements that arise wherever people congregate to secret nastiness you haven't noticed.

[imagines-from-the-pit]

Could you do a character analysis on Green Viking? Thank you!

Green Viking Character Analysis

Type: Character Analysis

Requested By: Anonymous

TW: N/A

Author's Note: Good golly! This took way too long to put out! I apologize for the extreme delay! I’m gonna try and pump as many of these out as I can!

-Mod Sam

Personality

Green is a bit of an airhead. He tends to misplace is items pretty often, forgets certain events, and tends to have two left feet. However, that isn't to say he is a complete idiot. He is very smart in social situations and is pretty good at subjects like science and math, he just tends to have his head in the clouds too often. He is kind, sensible, and has a rather good sense of humor and fashion, but don't ask him to man the kitchen. He is known to set at least one thing on fire.

Hobbies

Green likes to watch horse races a lot! He has likes to imagine himself as one of the racers feeling like a knight on his noble steed! Sometimes, attends the gambling horse races and typically wins whenever he places a bet!!! He is known for having great luck after all! He also enjoys painting Celtic Knots. He always finds them to be so beautiful and intricate. When he moved into his home, he managed to decorate all of his furniture with them as a way of acclimating himself to the new house.

Fears

Although not technically a fear, it brings him great anxiety to be too far away from home for long periods of time. Specifically this entails traveling to places greater than 100 miles from his home. He just generally fears that someone is going to break into his home while he’s away or that he’s going to lose something valuable on his trip and never see it again.

Things He Likes:

-Herbal scents

-Long Baths

-Outfits with a flowing detail (such as a cape)

-Creme Brûlée (it’s the one thing he can make)

-Coniferous trees

Things He Dislikes:

-Neutral Tones (he prefers colorful attire)

-The beach (It’s the one place he actually lost something valuable. It’s where the fear started)

-Coconut flavored things

-The sound of tires squealing

-Immaturity in discussions of Science

[fictionkinfessions]

TW: Mention of a horribly abusive parent and an equally horrid town

Dear You,

I am a coward who is ot brave enough to write a proper apology or to address it to you directly as I doubt you scour social media or blogs looking for an arsehole you once knew. Still, I want you to know that I failed you more than I ever failed anything or anyone. I was a mess and a total prat who loved tending to the jaded bitterness growing in him. You never did anything wrong and my rage, pettiness and misery were my own t deal with. Yet, I blamed you for shattering the illusion of the happy life we led. I should have listened to you and supported you but I chose to attack you instead.

I spent my life trying to prove that I can be worthy of stability so being presented with the truth wrecked that. It was easier to pretend it was your fault. It was easier to run away. It was easier never to deal with the abominable crimes committed by my father. It was easier to remain silent and not to question the system and status quo while patting myself on the back for being subversive in ways that never mattered. The truth is - I was jealous of you - you were always likeable and people always surrounded you, hell, our friends chose to be on your side and they were right.

I am old, sick and tired. Karma got to me eventually. I hope it reached you and you live a marvellous and happy life surrounded by your loved ones while you can fulfil your dreams. It could be that you do not exist yet or never will in this timeline. But, in case you do and you ever need to hear it - never let anyone like me ever get you down. You matter. You are awesome for just existing. You deserve a fabulous life. Don't ever regret anything as we can only judge our actions at the moment of doing them as we are not seers able to predict the future. We all try our best and we sometimes fail but we learn from it and try again tomorrow.

P.S. In case you ever doubt it is me and you get to read my amazing attempt at writing a letter one day - I will add the idiocy I am known for and you probably never wished to see it again. I was the petty one but maybe me telling you that my hair is all broken, brittle and a bird's nest will make you smile as you always complained that you wanted my hair. And I flaunted it in your face. I bet yours is great now and it was fine in the first place but your fashion sense was something else altogether. I should be banned from writing.

Me. The Annoying and Sad Ginger.

Note to Mods: Sorry for being vague and I am a fictive for tagging purposes and evasive to my source as my memories are very far from canon and rather upsetting.

🍃

[righteousness-and-tea]

Hello, can Byakuya Togami and Celestia (separately) with a silent and observant reader in such a scene. At the third trial, Celes invites the reader to play chess, and the reader turns away and plays chess in spite of the board with pieces and wins. It's probably more how they reacted, but still very interesting.

I can do my best! In this case I wasn't sure if you wanted the same scenario with both, but that's what I went with. If that's incorrect I can always fix it though! Also, I know nothing about chess so take my interpretation with a grain of salt, haha. Please enjoy!

-Mod Celeste

"You Never Cease to Surprise Me"- Byakuya Togami and Celestia Ludenberg x reader (separate):

Celeste:

Two trials and five deaths had occurred since your time in Hope's Peak Academy began. It was rather bleak, but things weren't all bad. Your classmates were colorful, and one in particular caught your eye.

"Excuse me, y/n? Might you be here?" A knock at the door and a familiar voice caught your attention. 'Speak of the devil," you thought as you opened the door to your room. Celestia Ludenberg, Ultimate Gambler of Class 78 stood there, looking rather bored.

You opened the door, looking puzzled. She continued promptly.

"Well you see, I have felt so restless lately-- with no one to play games with, that is. I was simply wondering if you might humor me and play a round?" A hopeful expression appeared on her face, and you couldn't say no to those eyes.

You nodded. Before you knew it, she had taken your hand and led you to the newly-discovered rec room.

"We will be playing chess. I assume you know the rules?" Celeste's haughty nature was already proudly on display. You agreed, already accepting that you'd likely (99% likely, at that) lose. It was just you and her in the room, fully concentrated on the game. Well, you were at least. Celeste was leagues ahead, so she moved quickly and without concern.

The game went on, but not exactly as you expected. It seemed like you were close to defeat, and yet something was amiss: if you made a specific play, victory would be yours. 'Maybe she did it on purpose?' You thought. Regardless, it was your turn and the only clear move to make. So, you did-- and won.

Celeste clapped politely. "Nicely done, y/n. I knew you'd figure it out."

You had an expression that begged for am answer.

"You see, I left an opportunity open for you on the board. Most players wouldn't even realize it was there, let alone a winning move. I had a sneaking suspicion there was more to you than meets the eye, and now I know I was right." She got up from her chair, and fixed her skirt.

Now it made sense. You knew better than anyone that the Ultimate Gambler would never truly lose.

Celeste walked over to your seat before finishing her line of thought. "That's exactly why you're the one I chose. Y/n, you really are an A-rank!" She laughed lightly, and offered her hand in a sportsmans' shake. "Please, continue to be my partner."

It was an offer you couldn't refuse.

Byakuya:

It was another day in your living hell: the once-honorable Hope's Peak Academy. To pass the time, you were reading in the library. It was quiet, but you weren't ever alone.

"Y/n. Hey, pay attention when I'm speaking to you." Byakuya Togami, in the flesh. Whether you liked it or not, he also frequented the library.

You looked up from your book to show you were now attentive. He took this as an apology.

"I'm sure you're tired of this monotony, clearly I am. So, I will be going to the rec room in 20 minutes to pass some time. Meet me there, will you?"

It was best not to refuse him, or else you'd get an earful later-- so you nodded and met him in the room shortly after.

"Today we'll be playing chess. The obvious choice would have been Celestia, but even I will concede I'd be no match. Plus, you'd be a much more interesting opponent anyway," He stated plainly, as he set up the board. You figured this must be a game he's good at--why else would he choose it? And knowing his intellect, he'd have a substantial advantage. It would be hard to win this.

Your hypothesis stood true, initially. Then something truly amazing happened-- you began to take control. It wasn't long before you actually began winning, and then victory was yours!

"Hm, I see. Good game, y/n. I didn't expect anything less from you." You had no idea Togami thought highly of you, but it was flattering for sure. He could tell you were shocked, so he continued. "You didn't think I'd choose a simpleton to spend my time with, did you? You aren't like the others." He smirked, hinting there was something about you he liked.

You stood there, aghast and proud at the same time.

"We'll have to do this again."

[k0kichiimagines]

hey🖤

i have a kokichi x reader idea.

Kokichi with a sensitive reader who overthinks his teasing, but hides their emotions by laughing or teasing him back, but one time the reader can't hide their emotions anymore and they start crying, apologizing that they are too boring for him.

thanks🖤🖤

hihi! hope u enjoy <3

- mod kokichi

Kokichi x Reader

-> Reader is secretly upset by his words

CWs: You get distressed at his teasing, not sure how best to word it djcbfn

"Wow you totally suck!" He commented, staring down at the now collapsed tower of cards. You only gave him a half hearted laugh in reply - it sounded ridiculous to you, to get upset over an obvious lighthearted tease about you knocking over some cards, but nevertheless you felt your heart clench slightly.

"I'd like to see you do any better."

"Actually, I won a trophy in card-stacking! So I could do better! But I'm suuuper tired now, so I'll show you my skills later." You only responded with a sarcastic agreement, turning to tidy the scattered cards. He was clearly bored, having spent all day hanging around you and dropping sly comments and being borderline rude at times.

He stared at you as cleaned, noting down your flat expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar y'know?"

You took a sharp breath. "At least it matches with my skill level in everything else, huh?" You snapped quickly to hide your damp eyes at the comment.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Sorry, I'm just tired."

"I know you're upset about something, I want to help you."

"Drop it, please, Oma."

He winced at that, you never used his last name unless you were upset at him. "Is this because I said you sucked?" You paused. "It is, isn't it?"

He didn't expect your shoulders to tremble slightly, and he quickly scrambled up to gently hug you. "I'm sorry, I know you don't mean it, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

"You don't mean what you say, or not beyond a joke, but it hurts. I don't know why, I try to pretend it doesn't, you must think I'm so sensitive or boring for being upset as well, and I'm sorry." You rambled slightly, hoping you made sense to wide eyed boy.

"I thought you might be a bit hurt, but I wasn't sure... I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, I'll try do better...!" He ended his declaration with a nickname he had for you, pleased at your soft smile between tears. "But I'm probably gonna mess up, so you have full permission to lightly hit me when I do, like right now!"

"I'm not gonna hit you, Kichi."

"Then hit me... with your love."

"That was terrible, nevermind keep the insults instead."

"Nope! I'll focus on making my sweet prince/ss happier, I don't want to see them cry." He softly stroked your cheek, brushing off tears with his fingers. "Also, I don't think you're boring or anything, I think you're my favourite."

"Favourite?"

"Yeah. You'll always be my favourite."

[writing-ideas-inc]

Epilogue Prompt

A turned on the water in the sink, trying to be as quiet as possible as to not wake B up. She puttered around the kitchen, and she did her best to ignore her dizziness as she made tea. These days, it was incredibly hard to hide this from him, but she knew the risks of not doing so.

The lights were still dim in the apartment, the mellowed aura giving her a sense of relaxation and peace. Something she hadn’t felt in a while.

A sighed softly, taking a moment to just breathe before two arms snaked around her waist, surprising her with a little kiss on her neck. “You weren’t in bed.”

“My apologies, love.” She chuckled softly, turning her head so she could look at her fiancé. “I just woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d get a head start on the day.”

The young man hummed, eyes closing as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek, whispering into her ear. “I already know what you’re trying to hide, my dear.”

A froze, body going still at his words. “H-how-?”

“You tried to hide it, love, but you forget that I have loved you since we were infants. I know you better than that,” B murmured, chuckling softly as he looked down. “And I know that my baby knows better than to constantly make you sick and tired all the time.”

-Mod Krystal @krystalanh16 on instagram

With all of the angst I figured y’all deserved some fluff

As always you can change pronouns to fit whatever works best

[slow-burn-sally]

Happy Birthday @alittletoosmarttobestraight !

Thank you again for creating the Crozier/Jopson discord and being a conscientious server mod and host. I hope you like this Jopzier Birthday drabble. <3

It’s late. The end of a long, dark, cold day in November, when Jopson heads to his captain’s chambers to see to Crozier’s nightly routine. He’s bone tired, having spent the day on the ice, helping prepare the sledges to send men out looking for leads. This on top of re-organizing Crozier’s menu after discovering that he loathes spinach, having his shirt mended where he’d torn it on a nail while trying to dress himself two days ago (he should never be allowed to dress himself), and  keeping the captain’s great cabin in order as Crozier stomped about, pulling out maps, knocking over stacks of daily reports and being generally grumpy. 

Jopson always enjoys being in his captain’s company. Enjoys it more than anything else on this godforsaken trip. But today, his patience has been tested. Crozier had been extra demanding and unusually fussy. 

He knocks, receives a grumbled, muffled “enter!” 

He does so, slides the door open and steps through into a soft, golden glow. The glow is coming from a lantern that sits on the captain’s table, and the captain himself sits at it, in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves. His stays are open, shirt unbuttoned at the top. He sits with arms crossed, glaring at Jopson with a look that can only be called irritated disappointment. 

On the table is what looks like a small, round cake, covered in some shining, sugary glaze. 

“Captain?” Jopson asks, unsure what is happening. He himself didn’t bring that cake to Crozier’s room. Was it Little? A gift from Fitzjames? That seems unlikely.  And why does it make Crozier’s face look like a bank of dark clouds before a storm.

“You’ve been neglectful, Thomas,” Crozier says, and though the use of his first name by his captain usually sends happy shivers down Jopson’s spine, this evening, he feels only a vague sense of apprehension. He swiftly goes back over all his actions from the day, combing through them for mistakes he might have made. He’d instructed Diggle to leave off the canned spinach at supper time. He’d carried multiple boxes of supplies out to the sledge boats in the freezing wind. He’d had Crozier’s shirt mended swiftly and efficiently. He cannot for the life of him think of anything he’s forgotten.

“Me, sir?” he asks in bewilderment. “What have I neglected, sir?” 

Crozier sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It gleams dully in the lantern light like spun gold. “You neglected to remind me that it’s your birthday today,” he says, the roughness of his voice lightening at the end to a softer, more solicitous tone. 

“Oh!” Jopson feels all the tension in his body melt away, to be replaced by a warm glow in his face and chest. “Oh sir, it’s nothing. I didn’t tell you because I’d forgotten about it myself.” He eyes the cake sideways with interest though, because it smells of vanilla, and he does very much love vanilla. 

“Well, so had I,”Crozier says gruffly, “until several of the crewmen reminded me. I was relying on you to remind me though Thomas, and you didn’t. I find this grossly negligent of you.” 

Jopson is smiling now, though he’s trying his best to hide it. “In that case sir, I must give you my deepest apologies. It’s been quite a busy day and I-”

“I barely had time to wrap your gift,” Crozier cuts in, placing a small box on the table, wrapped in brown paper, and tied with a bit of ragged twine. 

Jopson’s heart begins to hammer inside his chest. “Oh sir, you needn’t have done that. It’s only a birthday, nothing special.”

“Just open it, Thomas. You’ve been neglectful enough in your duty to remind me of your birthday. The least you can do is open the bloody present and have a piece of cake.” 

Smiling to cover his nervousness, Jopson reaches down and picks up the gift. Something small and hard inside the box rattles a little as he pries apart the loose knot in the twine and peels off the paper. He folds it in a neat square and puts it into his waistcoat pocket. It’s perfectly serviceable paper, he’ll find a use for it. Underneath the wrapping, there’s a small wooden box, which in and of itself is a gift. Thomas has a few keepsakes that need a safe home, and the box is just the perfect thing for it. He pries the box open slowly, and then stares down at its contents with his mouth hanging softly open in shock.

“I certainly hope you don’t have one already,” he hears Crozier speak as if from a distance. “If you have, you’ve hidden it well, and I’ll expect you to toss it and replace it with this one, of course.”

Jopson lets out an obliging, breathless little chuckle, but inside, his heart is galloping against his rib cage, and his face and throat are hotter than the heating pipes above their heads. Inside the box, resting on a dark fold of material, is a golden pocket watch. It’s surface is adorned with a simple engraved pattern, and it glows softly in the light from the lantern on the table, in much the same fashion as Crozier’s hair. 

“Oh, sir... I can’t accept this,” he says, knowing of course that he can and will accept it. Of course he will. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Nonsense,” Crozier says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If you don’t take it, I’ll be forced to find another Thomas Jopson to give it to, and that’ll be no small feat, out here in this godforsaken place.” 

Jopson’s eyes flick up urgently to Crozier’s face, searching his features for any sign that he’s having one on. That he’s playing with Jopson for a lark. He swiftly turns the pocket watch over, marveling at how smooth and soft it feels in his hand. Like a small mechanical heart. On the back, in a very fancy filligree sort of script it says Thomas Jopson. He looks back up into Crozier’s face and sees a warm sort of affection there, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Captain,” he says, the word escaping his mouth on a soft breath. “I.. I don’t know what to say.”

“You need’t say anything,” Crozier replies, his smile only growing warmer. “I had that made after Antarctica. I wanted to show you that I appreciated the thoroughness and professionalism of your role as captain’s steward. You performed your duties so extremely well for a man so young. And, then, I’m sorry to say, I simply forgot to give it to you. I’m like that sometimes. Forgetful.” Neither of them look at the decanter of whiskey on the table. “Hearing that today was your birthday reminded me that I’d brought this along to give to you on a special occasion, and I’d be hard pressed to think of an occasion more special than being trapped in this miserable place, on a cold, dark day. 

“Captain, I-” 

“come on, none of that now. Lets have some cake. You’ll join me in a spot of drink? Here, have a seat.” Crozier rises and presses a dazed Jopson into a chair at the table. He pushes the cake in Jopson’s direction, hands him a fork and reaches to unstopper the decanter of whiskey. 

Thomas can’t seem to stop grinning. He gazes down at the pocket watch, sitting in its box, his eyes drawn over and over again to the delicate sworls and curls that spell out his name. His name. It’s his very own pocket watch. He can barely believe it. He picks up the fork, takes a generous hunk out of the cake and shoves it into his mouth, having to suppress a moan at the flavors of cinnamon, cardamon and vanilla as he chews. It’s delicious. 

“Happy Birthday, Thomas,” Crozier says, passing Jopson a crystal decanter with a modest amount of whiskey in the bottom. Jopson tips a small amount into his mouth. It mixes delightfully with the flavors of the cake, and with his glowing joy over the gift. 

“Thank you sir,” he replies. “I shall cherish it, always.”

“I should hope so,” Crozier says with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I paid enough for it.” 

Jopson knows this is meant to be flattering, and it is. Deeply so. The fact that his captain spent money on a special gift for him. It makes his heart swell with pride. 

“Don’t go showing it off to anyone,” Crozier adds, tipping his own glass back and draining it in one swallow. “I’ll never hear the end of it, and neither will you.”

“I won’t sir,” Jopson says around a smile and another mouthful of cake. “I’ll keep it hidden in my bunk.” He wants to say so many more things. That he’s deeply touched. That he’ll show it off to his family and friends upon his return to England, and tell them that his captain is the best captain in the entire Royal Navy. 

The pocket watch means so much. That Thomas is appreciated. Respected. Loved. 

He banishes that last thought with a small shake of his head and raises his glass to his captain. “To you, sir. For making my day brighter.”

“And to you, Thomas, for keeping me right.” 

Jopson swallows thickly and covers his blush with his glass as he takes another sip. “We need to get you ready for bed, sir,” he says, hoping the thickness in his voice doesn’t betray his inner feelings. 

Crozier though sighs in a belabored fashion and pulls himself to his feet, groaning a bit at his low back pain that always acts up in the colder months. 

Jopson stands too, picks up the box with the pocket watch and puts it in his trouser pocket before stepping to Crozier to begin undoing his waistcoat buttons. 

Later that night, when he’s alone in his bunk, he takes the box out from where he’d hidden it under one of his shirts on the small shelf by his bed, and turns it over and over in his hands. Admiring it’s gleam in the light of the one small candle on his bedside table. He runs a reverent fingertip over the letters that spell out his name, and then, feeling only a small amount of embarrassment over the sentiment of his act, he presses the watch to his lips and kisses it.

[morimallow]

If your still doing nsfw omegaverse request can I request this. Ushijima alpha x omega reader. So before his runts he gets overly protective like not letting you out of the door protective and because of the reader avoids him so that they can leave the dorm. But then ushijima gets into rut early so he goes looking for reader finds her and then he grabs her and takes them to the dorm ending with rough sex of you want this is all up to you

Alpha!Ushijima x Omega!Reader

You always start to wake up earlier than usual two weeks before his rut so you could escape from your alpha's strong arms. It's not that you don't hate it but he gets a little over-the-line possessive whenever he's near having his rut.

By the time you walk towards the school library, Ushijima starts to wake up in your dorm. He tried to reach you using his stretched arms so he could pull you close to him but you're not there. Disappointment, anger, aggressiveness, emptiness. He felt cold and hot at the same time and your absence triggered his rut to start early.

Tons of unmated and unmarked omegas turn their heads to a topless Ushijima, with an overwhelming scent of pine cones and cinnamon barks basking in morning dew, walking hastily to you. He pushed himself forward through, all of his senses were focused on your sweet lavender smell with a tinge of lemon squeeze.

He was chanting your name under his breath over and over again until he saw you studying in the library. He ran to where you are, picked you up, and immediately sucked on your neck as he indulged himself with your scent.

You held his head in your hands, making his eyes look at yours, “Toshi..”

“Why did you leave me, my luna?” he asked almost painfully as he rested his head against your warm palms.

“I need you.”

He pinned you against the dorm room as soon as you both got inside. His big and rough hands were all over the curves of your body, leaving a trail of red and purple marks. You reached for the condom in his back pocket and placed it on his member.

He groaned in pleasure as the warmth engulfed his whole length, making you moan his name.

You bounced on his thick cock, pushing your chest against him as you produce whines and whimpers because of how he fills you up. It's like you're the one in heat.

He hugged you tightly and moved his hips faster and harder. Several more pumps inside you were more than enough to make him cum. He was breathing heavily, intensely hot as he whispered, “One more time.”

He just went on and on, thinking of how many more times does he has to ravish your sweet little cunt before his rut ends.

He did it in missionary, doggy style, your knees to your chest as he pounded hard, side fuck, everything.

He came for the nth time, crawling and reaching for another box of condom in the drawer.

“Alpha.. I'm tired. I feel so used. When will your rut end?” you asked, still catching your breath.

“One more time,” he replied, rummaging through the drawer, “but we're out of condoms.”

Guiding him back to sit against the headboard, you straddled him with the blanket over you and started to rub soothing circles on his biceps, “Then let's go to sleep, Toshi—”

Ushijima then grabbed your bum and said, “No, we're doing it raw. This will be the last, I promise.”

“T-Toshi, no more..! Too big, a-ahh..” you say in between moans as you clawed his arms that were wrapped around your body.

Using one hand to lift your leg, he fucked you senseless. His hot breath and the sound produced by your wet slapping sex just made you more wet than before. “Y/N, I'm close. Don't let a single drop go to waste, alright?” You could only mod followed by a slight whimper.

He then slowed down his pace, pulling out just to plunge it back in then turns to a fucking sex machine.

You reached out for his head behind you so you could kiss him and said in moans, “I love you.. a-ahh, Wakatoshi. Ahh! Impregnate me..”

He was shocked but beyond that, he was so turned on he came on the spot and knotted inside you. He groaned at how good it felt and you screamed his name at both pain and pleasure. In fact, it was so good you passed out even before Ushijima could say it back and apologize.

The next morning, even though you're sore, you picked up all the condoms your alpha used last night. Slowly sitting down to pick up the condom under the bed, warm and strong arms effortlessly picked you up and placed you on the bed, “Rest. I'll do all the cleaning.”

You blushed and admired his back muscles and of course, his firm ass. He turned around and said, “And I love you, too, my luna.”

I hope you like this! I should go back to studying. Have a good day and thank you for requesting! ٩(๛ ˘ ³˘)۶♥

[kangaroo-sniper-imagine]

Unintimidating reader who’s a killa killa

-snipers is longer solely because ive had that idea in my head LONG before i got this request-

-also, little gorey so beware-

Medic

Ludwig is almost instantly enamoured with you once he got comfortable with you on base. He finds you sweet and calls you “kleine krankenschwester” (little nurse) whenever you insist on helping him in any way with his workload. You apologize when you bump into inanimate objects and try copying Archimedes’ cooing. You’re a cupcake!

And finally he gets a good eyeful of you on the field. You’re brutal and vicious and smiling the whole time as you bash in an enemy Heavy’s head with a sledgehammer. You take out an enemy Scout’s leg with your weapon and let him try and crawl away from you before you finish him off with a laugh. Ludwig is now convinced you’re his soulmate

Our dear doctor loves tenderness that hides ruthlessness. Loves that you are sweet as a bumble bee to your team but a beast to your opposers. He’s excited at the new possibilities between the two of you know that he knows that he no longer has to hide his own ferocity with his experiments in front of you

Sniper

Hell, Mick isn’t even convinced you should be on the field. You wore brightly colored clothes and skirts and for fuck’s sake you bake, all. The. time. You're like Holly Homemaker, why the hell are you hanging with a bunch of mercenaries? How were you even picked for this job? At your first match, he debated on whether he should watch you from his perch to protect you or do his job. He chose his job, duh. But only for a few matches. When he finally decides to track you,and oooooh boy.

An enemy Spy has his knife in your shoulder, pining you to a wall. Mick doesn’t have a clear shot to take out the spook without getting you too. It’s not fun watching a teammate die, even if they do come back. But right as he was about to shift his attention to the main battle he sees it. You. Pissed the fuck off.

Mick watches with interest as you grab the hand that’s stabbing you with one of your delicate hands as the other grabs the spook’s lapel and drag in the enemy, mouths crushing together. A shot of betrayal and shock freezes the hitman before he sees it. The red running down your chin; the struggle of the enemy Spy trying to thrash himself away from you; the look of manic rage in your eye. When you let the Spy go, Mick can see teeth but no lip and it hits him. You bit off the man’s mouth.

After you swiftly wretch the knife out of your shoulder and into the neck of your opponent, you wipe your mouth, you call for a medic and return to fighting. Mick is now a little scared of you, but now will no longer ever think again that you can’t handle yourself on the field. Never brings up what he saw but will sometimes watch you work now

Heavy

Mikhail already finds hardly anyone intimidating, you are no exception; especially with your short stature and demure demeanor. He worries about you honestly, watching you to make sure none of the other mercs try to take advantage of you because you give off the energy of a doormat. It’s his big brother senses in part, he thinks, also in part of because he has a leetle crush on tiny woman who will listen to him drone on about Sasha and Russian literature well into the night.

You do more protecting than defending during the fighting. You watch the case and keep people away from it as Misha mows down the enemies to keep them away from the intel (and you), so he hasn't had the pleasure of watching you work. But buddy, when he gets it. A chance of happenstance allows Heavy to finally see you operate, lets him see you sit pretty as the enemy steps on your hidden bombs and walk into the line of your automatic tracking weaponry and get mowed down in a hail of bullets as all you do is smile and hold the briefcase. So well covered by your own inventions you don’t even need to be worried as the blood of your enemy splashes up onto your clothes

Misha finds you even MORE endearing now. Man loves intelligent women and if you made all of those killing machines holy fuck, could you mod Sasha?? You’re in your element as you effortlessly kill the opponent, and Misha loves watching your inventions do what they do best (he feels a kinship with your weapons as he too, preforms extreme violence to protect you) (He’s still gonna watch your back at the base tho for sure)

Scout

You were like another Spy, except without all the European flair that Spy had. You were kinda bland, tired looking. Jeremy’s never seen you train or fight; you spent most of all your free time being “tutored” by Spy to become a better Infiltrator, and frankly, Jeremy is more afraid of bread than he is of you (and not just the tumor filled bread). Spy hasd insinuated that you were ready to finally be put on the field with the rest of the mercs for the next match, and now Jeremy is more excited to have another person to show off to rather than to see you in action

But of course, Jeremy fucks up. He’s hiding in an empty building, bleeding from a shot from an enemy Sniper, and staring at the wrong end of a Heavy’s gun, hating the feeling of defeat. The Heavy was rambling on about something but the wound in his side had more of Scout’s attention; that is, until, a figure slowly, silently descended from the rafters. It was you, dressed head to toe in black save for a sliver of your team’s color on your armband. You look at the monologuing Heavy before giving Jeremy a look that said “Man, he’s a wind bag, huh?” you gestured to the enemy, then drew your finger across your throat with a questioning look in your eye. Scout manages a weak nod, losing focus quickly.

Another long cord, similar to the one holding you to the ceiling, unraveled itself from around your arm, and very quickly you whipped it around the enemy’s neck, jumped onto his back, and wretched your arms back, almost instantly decapitating the Heavy. Even as the lumbering body fell down, you remained upright, hopping off the body gracefully. With swift efficiency, you kicked the head out of the way, grabbed the comically large gun, and aimed it at the door. Before Scour could even ask what the fuck was going on, an enemy Medic came in through the door. Before the German had a chance to yelp, you shot him dead.

“Yo, what the-!” You hastily toss a med-pack at him before melting into the shadow, Scout almost missing the darkening blush on your mostly covered face. After that little save, Jeremy now goes out of his way to be nice to you, and learns a lesson that looks are hella deceiving. It would pay to have someone watching his back on the field without all the unwanted french commentary (and you’re nicer to look at than Spy, let's be real)

Demo

You’re cheerful, but not in the sadistic, almost taunting way many of the other mercs are like. Not like the Doc or Spook. Nope, you were just happy. Not ditzy or stupid or anything, just a smiley little thing that had as much bite as a toothless alligator. The thought that someone could take you as a serious threat, some wee thing that eats rainbow colored cereal and wears bunny slippers throughout the base, was so hilarious that Tavish starts chuckling whenever it crosses his mind. The two of you don’t typically fight together, you sticking to high ground to pick off enemies as Demo gleefully stays in the thick of it all to implode the other team

Due to unfortunate circumstances, you're both pinned down together, shoulder to shoulder under a makeshift barrier as the enemy gets closer and closer; your bow at the ready with an arrow and his bombs prepared to go off at his command, but no opening to go up and take a shot/throw a bomb. You huff, looking around wildly before nodding decisively, looking to Tavish. “Gimme one of your sticky bombs.” He complies, half thinking that you’re gonna take the both of you out in a blaze of gory glory.

With a look of determination, you aim in front of you, not even at the enemy. Tavish prepares to die for the third time that day, but this time by his own creation, and you release your arrow. The projectile bounces off a scrap bit of metal on the ground, ricocheting the arrow up into hitting the lamppost, and then flying over their heads into the enemy’s ranks. Once the bomb went off, you instantaneously bounce out of the hiding place and opened fire on the stragglers who didn't get offed by the bomb. Tavish can only stare as you mow down the other team as a random stream of sunlight illuminates your figure. Demo catches feels in that moment

Pyro

Pryo liked that you were lowkey and sweet. The fact that you weren’t especially harsh or violent while relaxing initially made them flock to you just to hang out in their down time. Pyro loves to give you cute little toys and stuffies and see you smile! The only time Pyro really sees you on the battlefield is when they’re looking for you. They’re worried about you! You’re their favorite!

They catch you, mid-battle, covered head to toe in the blood of an enemy Scout, laying only a few feet away. They think you look so pretty! Like sparkles and rainbows are all around you and flower petals are floating in the air and surrounding you (it’s ash; pyro started a blaze not that far away and it was finally beginning to get to the two of you)

Pyro just sees this as more couple binding time, now that they know that you also tend to get a little too into the battle. It’s an excuse to spend even more time together

Engineer

This boy was so dang in love with you and he’s never even seen you fight. On the base, you were as sweet as a peach and harmless as a mouse. You spent most of your time in Dell’s workshop helping him with menial tasks like refilling his coffee mug or reorganizing his tools or alike. You got along well with all the other mercs and were quick to help others. Dell never really saw you while fighting because he had to stick near his machines while your job took you all over the battle field

He hears about you fighting from the others. Scout was retelling the group about you “friggin’ awesome fight” between you and an enemy Medic. You had, according to Scout (and Heavy, who nodded along in agreement) got into a fist fight with the enemy, physically beating them into submission. Dell wouldn’t believe it if you hadn’t walked right at the end of the tale with a black eye, bloodied knuckles, and a lopsided grin. Dell almost has a fucking heart attack seeing you in such a state. The Doctor heals you up back to normal like nothing ever happened but the fact that you relied on physical violence to fight made him anxious

He doesn't talk to you about fighting differently, he wants to know if there's anything he can do to help you fight, like making special gloves or armor of some type. Homeboy just wants to protect you, he gets hella worried.

Soldier

Jane, seemingly perpetually stuck in the 40’s and 50’s, believes most women shouldn't be on the battlefield at all. And even though you were there working with a bunch of other mercenaries, a lady is a lady and he, the old fashioned man he is, prioritizes keeping you “safe” (taking your kills before you get the chance to land the finishing blows). In his mind, he’s doing you a service. After all, you are far too soft spoken at the base to have any form of bite in you on the field.

Across the field though, one fight, Jane was just too far away to swoop in and “save” you like he normally would; not even his rocket launcher would get to you in time to stop the Spy from doing you in! The instant the enemy’s knife was about to pierce your back, though, Jane saw you turn around whip fast, your own machete thrusting forward to impale the enemy.

The soldier now thinks that your “womanly intuition” is far more superior and more finely tuned than his own, and will now generally leave you alone to fight and stops hovering over you. Will shout out encouragements from across the field whenever he sees that you hack someone apart and loudly brags that you have the “natural advantage” to sniffing out enemies.

Spy

-This is gonna be a drabble cus i dunno how to bullet point this-

Jacque didn’t think particularly much of you. You were a teammate, an asset to be used. On the base you were reserved, spending most of your time in the Doctor’s infirmary or discussing something with Mikhail about books or whatever. You stayed out of his way, not like it was hard for you, seeing as you were just some wisp of a thing, someone who if they sat still long enough would blend into the background like air. Spy never assumed that you would ever be of any use to him in a fight; you just didn’t have the look of a fighter in you.

So right now, his life being in your hands, made him uncomfortable in ways he couldn’t care to count.

The enemy Spy, who was almost as tricky as him, cleverly disguised himself as Jacque, and right as they were about to confront each other, you burst through the door, looking surprised at the two of them. Almost immediately, they started to accuse the other.

“He’s the enemy!”

“No, HE is!”

“The intruder is HIM!”

Jacque will give you some props, seeing as you drew your gun as soon as you saw the pair, but rather than aim it usefully at at least ONE of them, YOU aim it uselessly to the floor! Jacque would’ve scolded you for your unprofessionalism if the imminent threat of death wasn’t less than six feet away from him.

You looked wildly in between the two of them, your normally pleasant face now stricken with panic. Your eyes land solidly on the enemy Spy, and with a sharp intake of breath, you run to him, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into the falsely colored lapel.

Jacque felt disappointment bloom in his chest, along with dread when he watched your mistake.

The spy looked so damn smug as he wrapped his arms around you, throwing Jacque a satisfied look. The gun still was gripped in your hand, still aiming at the ground.

“Ma pauvre petite fille,” he crooned, “est-ce que le grand méchant espion t'a fait peur?”

You sniffle, and bring the gun up to the imposter’s head. “Je n'ai pas facilement peur.” Jacque didn’t think you could ever say something so coldly, and say it in french to boot. One shot rang out and the man in your arms fell to the floor, suit changing back to what it was meant to be, stained with red from the blood of his fatal wound.

After some deliberation with yourself, you shot him again, in the chest. You looked to Jacque, your face now once again passive.

With a sigh and a dramatic flourish, the living Spy fetched a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it quickly, taking a deep huff before addressing you.

“How did you know that he was not me?”

You holster your weapon back, mulling over your answer. “Few things, uh… you never speak French to me,” you stuck out one finger, “you wouldn’t ever hug me,” another finger, “you don’t stand with your feet that far apart,” one more, “and you smell completely different.” with all but your thumb sticking out, you nodded to yourself before jamming both hands into your pants pockets, tucking in your chin and turning heel back to the door, seemingly finished with your explanation and conversation.

Amused, Jacque took another slow drag of his cigarette, planning on paying more attention to you in the future, being sure never to underestimate you again.

-this, uuuuuhhh, took on a life of its own-

[moved-danganronpamess]

Nagito reacting to his motherly fem!s/o calling him their "hope" and giving him all the love she's been craving to give him after a long day of school? headcanons please! Thank youu

Anon, are we spiritually connected?? Motherly/affectionate s/o’s are my favorite kind of readers... and Nagito is my favorite character... anon ily

(DANG IT, i’ve realized the texting thing looks fine on website tumblr but is screwed on mobile tumblr,, guys forgive me pls)

Dearie, thank you for requesting! Remember to prioritize yourself, health, and wellbeing lovely!! 💗 - Mod Mikan who is a HUGE Nagito simp

Nagito With a Motherly! S/O Who Pampers Him After a Long Day

You had always had a motherly personality - fussing and checking up with your loved ones, always offering to help others and give advice. When you met Nagito at Hope’s Peak Academy and heard how much he despised himself, your instincts immediately kicked in. You worried about how quick he was to praise others but quicker to insult himself. Even before the two of you began dating, you constantly reminded him about how great he was and shot down any attempts of self deprecation. When you two were finally official, the affection just tripled. Good morning and night texts, hugs, kisses, you name it! You even had to start making homemade lunches for the boy because he had a bad habit of skipping meals.

Normally the two of you would take the bus and walk to school together, but today was different. He wasn’t there at the bus stop this morning and when you texted him, he didn’t respond. So now you were panicking at school, worried that something happened to your boyfriend. You had even made his favorite food today… 

Eventually class began, but you could hardly focus. How could you, you had no idea where your lover was?! You kept making sneaky glances at your phone in hopes of seeing it light up with a notification from Nagito, but to no avail. You sighed and crossed your fingers that he was ok. You really wanted to give him his good morning kiss and hug!!

Your first period class had ended and you began walking to your next one, clutching your phone sadly when you felt it vibrate in your hand. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Nagito had finally responded! Quickly you scrolled down from the multitude of texts you’d spammed him with.

you

nagito where r u???                                                                                                bb pls respond im worried 🥺                                                                                  istg ur getting bombarded with love as soon as i see u again

💗my hope💗

Hello there (Name!)                                                                                                  It’s pathetic trash like me made you worry..                                                            But I’m just fine! Just some bad luck today!

Your heart squeezed as you frowned. That made sense, his luck usually caused stuff like this to happen unfortunately. There was one time he got hit by a car on his way to school and you never cried so much before. Just thinking about it gave you a heart attack. Quickly you typed back a response, eyes glued to your phone, muttering apologies to whoever you bumped into. 

you                                                                                                                       no its ok bby i was just wanted to make sure u were alright 💗                          also ur not trash!!! i made ur fav food today too love <3

💗my hope💗

Haha, to think someone like me would hear such words…                                    Truly, I’m lucky! I’ll see you at lunch, my hope!

You grinned as you made your way to your next class, eagerly waiting for lunch to come. When the bell rang, you quickly grabbed your stuff and made a mad dash for the rooftop. (The mutual choice of place to spend your lunch period, sometimes people would give you weird looks for spending time with Nagito, which made him apologize and try to leave, much to your dismay.) You began to wait, and wait, but there was no sign of your partner. You frowned again and sent a quick text to him. Maybe if you roamed the school you could find him? You skipped around the halls, glancing at your phone every now and then for any new texts. Soon you were in front of the principal’s office when you heard a lecturing voice inside.

“Komaeda, I can’t even count the number of times you’ve come in late because of some unthinkable scenario…”

“Haha… it's just my luck has been acting up lately sir.”

You frowned for probably the hundredth time that day, it felt impolite to eavesdrop but your heart hurt for your boyfriend. You wished that people would take the time to understand him, he can’t control his luck! You huffed as you walked away, a new mission developing in your head - Operation Give Nagito a Bunch of Love After School.

After school, you patiently stood at the entrance of the academy when you finally saw your boyfriend exit. Your heart began pounding as you bounced excitedly, your boyfriend on the other hand, seemed pleased to see you as well but also tired.

“Nagito, baby!” You called as you rushed over to him and immediately cradled him into your chest, not caring who saw or heard. He was very tall, so would normally be a bit hard, but he was used to your affectionate nature. You began petting his hair and placing soft kisses on his head.

“Ah, to be held by you after today… the bad luck was worth it,” he melted into your embrace.

“Love, let’s go home, ok? Then you can tell me all about your day.” With a bit of encouragement from you, Nagito reluctantly released you from his grasp. You grabbed his cold hand and squeezed it as to not make him feel lonely, and the two of you ventured to the bus stop. On the bus, you didn’t stop giving him love, he deserved it 24/7! You let him place his head on your shoulder and cuddle your side. You spoke in a soothing voice as you told him about your day, which was quite uneventful without Nagito.

As soon as the two of you reached your house, you forced him onto the couch with some warm blankets and began drying his hair. For some reason it was wet, something must have splashed him this morning you assumed. Nagito naturally leaned his head back, your fingers felt so good in his hair.

“Darling, do you want to talk about today?”

Nagito’s content expression twitched as he sighed. “It’s nothing too important… just woke up late, missed the bus and got splashed by some water when it drove past…” he continued to list off the things that happened to him with his usual casual voice, as if it was no big deal. “But I’m sure I made you wait, morning time and lunch time I left you by yourself. You should stop paying attention to trash like me and find some more reliable company-”

“Nagito, you’re not trash, ok?” You paused drying his hair and came around to sit next to him. “You’re not just anyone to me - you’re my boyfriend. I will wait for you however long it takes, I will care and love you for the rest of my life. You are my hope, Nagito.”

Nagito looked shocked. “I’m… your hope?”

“Of course you are! You always call me your hope, why wouldn’t you be mine?” you teased, peppering his face with kisses.

“I-I… thank you.”

“Come here, baby. Lie down.” You braced your back on the edge of the couch and motioned to Nagito to lay down on you. Nagito eagerly took the opportunity, burying his face in your soft chest. His cold skin was a nice contrast to your warmth. You eased him out of his school jacket so both of you would have as much skin to skin contact as possible. Your legs intertwined with his, as you began to place kisses from his jawline to his neck, making him whine in pleasure.

“I’m the one whose supposed to taking care of you-”

“Shh… it’s my job too. You’ve had a long day… just relax in my arms and forget about it, my love.”

He didn’t put up much of a protest as he continued to nuzzle into your chest. “My hope, thank you for loving someone li-,” he paused and changed his line of thought, “for loving me. I… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I love you so much-”

“I’m not going away, Nagi… I’m staying right by your side forever, no matter what happens. Now… take a nap, babe. I’ll be right here when you wake up…”