#DRABBLES

[simpleeindulge]

“But do you love me?”

Info: readerxcharacter, drabble, cussing, romance, a little ansty.

Note:Just a little something, something that got stuck in my head.

Kid

He shouldn't have to say it!

Don't you get how he thinks?

What do you mean it's not about how he thinks but how he feels?! He doesn't feel anything!

Wait! No! He didn't mean it like that! (And now he sees the tears you're holding back and that dry lump in his throat is back.)

He is fucking this up and he knows it!

“Why do you always get so emotional?!” (Shit! Why does he feel like an asshole!)

“It's just words that anyone can say!” He growls to himself as he sees you walk away from him hurt and mad.

Panic sets in. The one thing he can't stand is when you walk away with that hurt look in your eyes.

“Fuck! Come here!” He shouts and grabs onto your arm. He pulls you close and cups your face.

“I love you, okay!” He says as his face turns red with embarrassment.

Now that he has said it out loud he realizes the truth of those words and grumbles.

“I just don't need to say it all the time.”

He squeezes you as he holds you close and sighs as he relaxes. Fuck, he loves you a whole fucking lot.

Law

She's not talking to him. Why isn't she talking to him?

She can't be that childish.

Usually, the quiet didn't bother him, but knowing that you aren't speaking to him makes the silence uncomfortable.

He looked away from his notes and rubbed his face. Damnit, how can he concentrate when you’re not talking to him?

He looks over at you as you reshelve his books.

“Y/N.” He called out to you.

You don't break your concentration as you keep working.

“Y/N,” He said again. You heard him. He knew you did, but you were stubborn, just like him.

No, not like him. He was worst and he knew it, but you still…loved him. He knew that, and he…

He sighs, then gets up and goes to close the door of the office. When he turns, he catches you, giving him a curious glance before quickly turning back to the bookshelf.

The act made the corner of his lip curve up. You kept working as he walked behind you. He took a breath and placed a hand on your waist.

You paused but did not look at him.

“Y/N,” he said in his deep voice and moved closer against you. He can see and feel the effect he was having on you. “You know I can't stand it when you act childish with me.”

He grins when he sees your jaw tensing. You wanted to say something but you were still staying strong. God, he…

“Love that about you.” He mutters out loud without meaning to.

The smile you give him makes him regret just a little that he hadn’t said it sooner.

[cheeseceli]

Thinking about how...

You were used to doing things by yourself, being by yourself. However, since Sunghoon entered your life, you had absolutely no idea of what being alone meant.

You never had to sleep alone again, he reminded you of that every time he'd throw himself over your laying body. You never had to have dinner alone, as he would accompany you even if he didn't want to eat. Car rides, shopping sprees, breakfast, resting in silence... Whatever it was, you could be sure he wouldn't hesitate on being by your side.

By dating Sunghoon, you gained way more than just a relationship. He gave you a home and a family above all.

Masterlist | important highlight

Thank you for reading<3

Taglist: @yuyubeans

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[acrylicqueen]

My hot take: Nintendo constantly mischaracterized Mario in the early 2000s just so they could tell jokes at Luigi's expense. I've been playing the remake of TTYD recently and this phenomenon is ESPECIALLY noticeable in that game.

Like, I'm sorry Intelligent Systems, but Mario would not fall asleep listening to Luigi recount his own journey in the Waffle Kingdom. That motherfucker would be on the edge of his SEAT listening to his brother talk about the adventure he'd been on. He'd be so proud of him!

Likewise, Mario wouldn't just stand around and purposefully choose to do nothing if Luigi was being yelled at and antagonized by a toad. That's INCREDIBLY ooc for Mario to do, and the bit of poking fun at Luigi to an almost cruel degree was never funny in the first place tbh.

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

I've seen a lot of takes on what would happen if Sonic and Tails returned to West Side Island and confronted the people who were so abusive to Tails, and I had an idea for a somewhat new spin on it.

What if, now that Tails is a world famous hero, the Islanders try to try to basically gaslight him into thinking none of the abuse ever happened? They find out he's coming and they throw a big "Welcome Home" party and give him a medal and stuff, and when confronted about their treatment of him just completely deny or twist it. Like "oh yes I'm so sorry there were a couple kids who were bullies but that happens to everyone you weren't being targeted, and we tried to get them to stop it" or "we didn't know you were alone and homeless, if we knew we would have taken you in" and all sorts of garbage like that

And Tails, who's maybe a tween-young teen now, and no longer has distinct memories from that early in his life, starts to question if maybe he really was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe he really was just bullied by one or two kids, and they weren't really that bad. Maybe people didn't really chase him away and refuse to even let him go through their garbage for food. He knows he has anxiety. Maybe he was just imagining how much everyone hated him. And he almost wants to believe it, to believe that he was never truly hated.

But Sonic remembers. Sonic remembers the gang of older kids beating and violently attacking toddler aged Tails, and only stopping when he physically intervened with his own fists. He remembers questioning the townsfolk about the two-tailed fox he'd seen and being meet with sneers and complete disdain. He remembers how skinny Tails was, how his ribs were visible even through his fur and how he wolfed down the food Sonic offered him so quickly that he nearly threw it up later. He remembers how Tails flinched from any quick movement or attempt at touch. He remembers the long process of gaining the fox's trust, a process that tested his nine-year-old patience as he spent literal weeks urging Tails to come closer, keeping his hands slow and his face friendly, finally getting the fox to join him at the campfire, to walk beside him with dashing away when moved his arm too fast, and then, eventually, to let him touch him. He remembers the first few times Tails let him try to brush out his matted, dirty fur, each knot a testament to neglect, and finding scars and wounds on the skin beneath that spoke of so much abuse. He remembers realizing for the first time that normal, everyday Mobians could be just as cruel as Eggman.

Tails doesn't trust his own memory. But Sonic remembers. And Sonic is not quick to forgive.

[thee-horny-thicky]

YES YANDERE YUTA PLEASE

Yuta didn't mean to start stalking you. Really, it was a complete accident. His crush on you–a kind upperclassmen–had turned into an obsession he couldn't shake. Friendly glances turned into longing stares. A bypassing thought turned into incessant fantasies. Regular concern for your safety turned into worrying when you weren't in his sights. Wondering if you were single turned into murderous jealousy at the thought of someone else having you.

So much so, that discovering your crush on Gojo-Sensei had him annoyed with the strongest sorcerer for weeks.

Yuta couldn't help but want you. Really, it was your fault he'd become so obsessed. You'd been a sweetheart to him when he'd first arrived at Jujutsu Tech, encouraging him every step of the way, offering to train him when you had time. He shouldn't have taken it personally, because you were eager to help all of your underclassmen. You wanted them to reach their fullest potential, and more importantly, stay safe. Your mentorship and fretting sparked pesky feelings in Yuta, feelings he thought would only be reserved for Rika.

Plus, your pretty smiles, soft body, lively eyes…all of it made you into the total package.

You'd proven his notion wrong, making him feel like an elementary student dealing with his first crush. He desperately wanted you, and Yuta would employ any means necessary to have you in his clutches. After all, he was the strongest now, second to none.

And maybe, his new body would make you more partial to his love.

[hurlingdown]

thinking about omega!law who goes into heat unexpectedly after taking a whiff of your clothes.

burning up with fever and need, he surrounds himself with things with your scent on it, building the perfect love nest for him to curl up into.

as he's desperately rutting against the mattress to thoughts of you breeding him, he realises.

tears sting his eyes as his cunt's walls clamp up tight to milk a non-existent knot, body readying itself for a pup that he's never going to give birth to.

[et6rnalsun]

bath shower sex w chris

one of the times he’s sweet during sex. likes the vibes n shit ig

his face in the crook of your neck as he thrusts into you at a reasonable rhythm. small, breathy moans slipping from both your mouths— his lips leaving hot little kisses on your wet skin. the sounds of the water drowned out almost all the sinful ones.

“chris”

& when you say his name so sweetly, your face totally fucked up as you looked at him with those eyes that looked like you were seeing stars, he felt weak in the knees.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Maybe Pina Colada with Viktor? Pretty Please? 🥺

A/n: Viktor! My favorite 😩.

Prompt used.

[ piña colada ] - one muse is forced to soften up as they take care of the other after they had too much to drink

*ೃ༄ cocktail-inspired otp prompts ˚◞♡ ⃗

He should have watching you, the man was a bartender after all but you were also someone he cared about so he should be taken care of you and right now you needed to be cut off.

"You are done...no more." Viktor lifted you up and over his shoulders. It was an easy thing to do, you were half his size. So tiny and you weighed nothing to him.

"Stoooop! I'm not...." Struggling on his shoulder's you let out another whine. "I'm not drink...drik...drunk."

Snorting, Viktor placed you in the back seat of the car. "You can not even speak...you are drunk."

Slumping into the seat, you sloppily cupped the mans cheeks. "Look at you, taken care of little." Pausing to think you then gave him a grin. "Me! You're so sweet! A big old teddy bear but don't you worry! I won't tell a soul!"

Rolling his eyes, Viktor pried your hand off of his cheeks then moved to the drivers end. "Wonderful, just do not vomit in the car. Lay your head agains't the window."

"Hhmp."

"Viikkttoooor! My head hurts! "

"You should not have drank so much." Viktor muttered as he tucked you into the bed, scratching his cheek he went to grab you a glass of water only to feel you pulling him back.

"No! Stay! Pleaseeee! I don't wanna be alone" you whined, head spinning as you latched onto his arm tugging him into the bed.

Dropping his shoulders, Viktor glanced at you then sighed as a small smile formed his lips for a moment though it quickly vanished as he laid down next to you. Your body quickly burying its self into his side, your eyes closing.

"Try not go drink so much next time."

"Yes Viktor"

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Thinking Affections again, and idk if this counts as a prompt or not, but in itwall you mentioned how cPhil constantly touches cDreams hair to calm him down and is just sth he likes so just that being a their thing they do when cuddling or sth is just phil petting and massaging his head

anything can be a prompt if i brainrot hard enough

/dsmp /rp

Dream wasn't sleeping well.

Sleep was always a fickle, delicate thing with him. There were plenty of nights where his exhaustion would take over and he would sleep soundly, especially early on during his time at the cottage, but there were also long periods where he'd barely sleep at all. He would wake from nightmares and seizures, or he'd simply tremble on his mattress for hours and hours, unable to slow his heartrate from its anxious pace. Em helped him to feel safe those nights, but even she couldn't keep his fears at bay completely. For as loving as the dog was, she couldn't stop someone from coming in the night to drag him back into the hell he escaped from. The hell he planned to return to someday. He laughed, sometimes, at the odd predicament he created for himself.

He procrastinated sleep by reading in the living room.

Techno gave him some shitty novel about an underground culture of elves. It was entertaining enough. He sat on the floor with a dog on his lap, leaning against the couch, and pulled his hair from his face. He had to tilt the book forward so the dim light of the fireplace could illuminate the page.

He heard Philza sit on the couch behind him.

The old man hummed thoughtfully before threading his fingers through Dream's long hair, pushing it behind his ears. "Might be less annoying if I braid it," he offered.

"I'm gonna take it out before bed," Dream replied, "but go ahead."

"It's my pleasure, mate." Phil's voice edged close to a whisper. He began carefully selecting some strands of hair from Dream's hairline and drawing them back, letting his fingertips trail along the boy's scalp. Dream shivered at the touch, feeling his skin erupt into goosebumps. "You should be sleeping," Phil continued.

The offer to braid his hair was a trick from the start; Phil wasn't doing anything that seemed close to a hairstyle. Instead, he rubbed and massaged along Dream's head, sometimes scratching with his fingertips. The book slowly dropped to his lap as he couldn't focus on the words anymore. His eyes fluttered closed.

"In... In the prison," Dream started, "Quackity liked to grab my hair. He'd grab it, like, in the front, and slam my head on the ground."

Phil's fingers trailed softly along the back of his skull. "Dream..."

"Sam hated when he did that. My skull would crack, and it would bleed a lot."

Phil could surely feel the bumps and valleys along his skin. They were hard to miss. He would feel rough scars and some patches of flaky, dry skin. Maybe some sharp lines where a crack healed. Dream's hair has been a source of frustration and humiliation for a long time; he hated that Quackity could feel the thick mats, the tangles, the spots of blood he couldn't wash out.

He felt Phil plant a kiss on the top of his head.

"Join me on the couch?"

Dream would spend the night there, on the couch, lying on top of Philza with his head on the old man's chest, sighing at the sensation of his head being massaged until he fell asleep.

[ikinremu]

what about neil catches you stealing from his store and he decides to punish you?!?

Hi anon, thank you sm for requesting! So sorry about how long this took, i’m working through a lot of requests atm! I really like how this one turned out.. hope you enjoy :)

Lesson Learnt

Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: Light Spanking, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Punishment, Praise, Hair Pulling

You celebrated quietly under your breath as your curious gaze finally landed upon the tape you'd been scouring the shelves for, eyes flitting around the entire store, stood solemn in your chosen aisle. Judging by the vacancy of your surroundings, you gathered it safe to make your move. Casually, you seized the tape from the shelf, falsely examining it as though debating the blurb. Sporting a sly, narrow glance you slipped the possession into your bag among other belongings.

You browsed the racks a few moments longer, presenting as though considering other options, sweeping past other rows, examining the titles briefly as you did.

Typically, you would've purchased the video, however you'd found yourself rather skint at the present and - as a result - unopposed to the idea of swiping a few tapes for entertainment.

You snatched a second title from atop another shelf, popping it beside the other in your bag, loitering around the store for minutes further, as to avoid suspicion.

You made your way to the exit, reaching simply for the handle.

"Excuse me, miss." An unfamiliar, male voice spoke from behind you, and immediately you felt the plump of your cheeks begin to burn - Shit.

With a deep intake of breath, you turned on your heel, facing the voice.

Immediately, his eyes pierced a path to your own, arms folded firmly over his chest, and he nudged his head back, gesturing for you to accompany, "Follow me."

Your heart pounded mercilessly in your chest as you trailed after him toward the counter, then on past it, through to what appeared to be an office - his office.

He stuck his large, rather callous hand out, "Your bag, please."

Attempting miserably to calm your shallow breaths, you presented a torturously innocent smile, handing the bag over without any other choice.

Snagging it from your offer, he rummaged through your belongings, met with the clinking and shuffling sounds they created.

His plump, pinkish lips broke out into a victorious grin as he peered down, pulling a single tape between the clutch of his fingers.

"Listen.." It occurred to you only in the moment that you hadn't a clue of his name.

"Neil." He informed you, clearly picking up on your fumbling.

"Neil, I'm sorry," You began, face burning shamefully hot. Terrible, truly, the first time you attempted to shoplift, it went as wrong as it could possibly go.

"Save it." Neil sighed, "I mean really, you could steal from anywhere, and you chose a shitty video store, admirable really."

It certainly wasn't the conversation you'd anticipated, though none of the situation was.

"You haven't got any.. on you, have you?" He stepped so slightly closer, arms folded tightly across his broad chest, a brow raised as he ran his eyes over your form.

"Uh- Sorry?" You spluttered out after a quiet moment, "No.. No there's nothing on me."

He paused, eyes narrowing ever so little, "Not the most convincing." He chuckled, "I think I'll just have to run a check myself, that alright?"

You nodded, tossing only a mere moment's thought to the matter, and you felt the unfamiliar, somewhat intriguing, sensation of Neil's hands perching atop your shoulders. He stood, contented, behind you, hands roaming gently down your sides.

“I really am sorry, I..” A staple of breath hitched in your throat as his palms patted softly down your hips, cautious not to be overly handsy - though still curious, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“You know that’s not really how this works, right?” Neil spoke, and you could feel the amusement of his smile by the skin of your neck, “If someone shoplifts, I don’t tend to go with the ‘nice job, see you round!’ approach.”

You knew that was true, obviously, however you figured there must be some value in trying.

“Just,” You breathed, his inspecting hands dancing down your thighs, patting softly around the washed jeans for anything he could deem abnormal, “Please don’t get the police involved.”

Finally, his tedious search drew to a close, and he stepped back opposite yourself.

"Please." You whispered.

As if examining an x-ray, you saw his mind further whirr, then he ran his slick tongue over his lips quickly.

“I have other ways of dealing with this, don’t worry.” Neil chuckled, the low sound reverberating through the air, his eyes burning against yours - it felt far more intense than you’d have liked.

His eyes wandered slowly over your face, as if your unbeknownst squirming only brought him amusement. Your heart thumped fast against the wall of your chest, unrelenting. Your stomach fluttered - nerves? Yes, excitement? Perhaps.

"Well, thieves can't go unpunished, right?"

The air felt thick, heavy as his gaze traced every inch of your face, now his turn to observe the way your mind began to whirr behind your eyes.

“Over my desk.” He spoke so suddenly, tone laced with an unmissable sense of cockiness.

You couldn’t quite bring yourself to grasp the situation, whatever it was. Somehow, you

managed to babble out the word, “Sorry?”

“You heard me, c’mon.” He furthered, “Don’t go and make things worse for yourself, sweetheart.”

He swung a lazy gesture toward his desk, and you felt your stomach burn with.. anticipation? Still washed with disbelief, you stumbled bashfully over.

His warm, establishing breath rumbled against the skin of your neck, pricking your attention as his fingers swept any loose hair from your ear, ensuring he was as close as possible. Neil’s hand cradled the small of your back, and he pushed your body slowly down, allowing you to ease along with him.

Your breath caught once more in your throat, his grasp venturing to the thick of your hips. Your clothed breasts met the sleek, wooden surface of the desk, pressing firmly against it as his fingertips crept to the fastening of your jeans.

A spark of arousal shot between your legs as he made light work of tugging the thick, crumpling material down your thighs, fabric ruffling around your knees as he bared them.

“Now, you gonna try and steal from my shop again?”

He landed a solemn, punishing slap to your ass upon his words, impatiently awaiting your answer. You slipped a deep, sharp gasp in response to the hit, offering a frantic, though small, shake of your head.

“Words, c’mon.” He demanded, callous palm crashing down on your behind once more.

You indulged another deep, unsteady breath, unable to discard the warmth tingling between your thighs, “I- Fuck- I won’t try and steal again..”

Neil let out another rich, low chuckle, hooking his fingertips beneath the band of your dampened underwear, “Better.”

He slid the thin, sodden silk down eagerly, baring your soaked cunt to his touch. He trailed one fingertip softly against your folds, eliciting a shaky gasp from your mouth, and you sunk your teeth into your lips in a desperate attempt to silence yourself.

The unmistakable sound of a belt buckle clinked out, jean material crumpling close by your naked, flushed skin.

“Spread those legs for me.” He instructed, lustful words fizzling through your stomach, only heightening your arousal as you obeyed his command.

His exhale was heavy, rather shaky.

“Fuck, look at that..” He cooed, fist wrapped loosely around his bare, hard length.

You felt the thick of his tip brush against your sopping folds, unable to prevent the breathy moan rolling from your tongue as he slid inside, slowly stretching you, the feeling leaving you sucking in a sharp breath as your fingers arched against the table.

“C’mon baby, take it..” He encouraged, groaning hoarsely as you took him within, “This is what happens when you act out.”

Arousal further slickened your thighs, butterflies swarming your stomach.

"F-Fuck.." You mumbled, the word helplessly overpowered by your exhale.

Somewhat abruptly, his hips jolted against yours, sending your body rocking against his, soon to be less, well-kept desk as his first thrust drove his skilful hips against your sensitised behind.

His pelvis smacked yours once more, finding a suitable pace, one he could deem both fulfilling and punishing.

Shamefully desperate, you whined out, feeling him snake one hand from its greedy grip of your hips and to your scalp, seizing a powerful grasp by your hair, raising your head ever so slightly, back arching as your eyes channelled upwards.

“Shame you can’t be well behaved, huh sweetheart?” Neil groaned, landing another punishing slap to the round of your ass, desk trembling beneath your bodies as his hips bucked relentlessly.

You simply whimpered, finding yourself only capable of that response; his bitter treatment thrilling you more and more.

His chuckle blended with yet another deep, rough grunt, “Not a shame for me, fuck, you feel so good.."

Shamelessly greedy, Neil snaked his hand from your hips and over the main focus of your stomach. He rested his flawless, eager touch on your lower-stomach, roaming over the rather prominent bulge he was responsible for with a prideful chuckle, “You feel that?”

He knew you did.

Your lids flickered, his digits looped tightly throughout your hair as your breasts repeatedly grazed the desktop in time with each thrust, “Yes..”

“So deep, hm?” He taunted, picking up the pace.

Unable to relent, your abdomen fluttered yet again, flushed skin smacking together in the cluster of humid air. The thick, twitching head of his cock hit your g-spot, snatching a keen, passionate gasp from your throat.

“Oh, right there, huh?” Neil mock-pouted, his tamed brows furrowed together as he hit the spot in the most torturous rhythm.

Feebly, you nodded, head still almost entirely supported by his controlled grip of your scalp.

“F-fuck, please..” You mumbled, his pace both rhythmic and taunting toward your most sensitive area.

Suddenly, he withdrew the tension, pulling out and leaving you nothing but confused. Immediately, both hands seized your bare, tired hips, making light work of pulling your body from the desk. Instead, he assisted in perching you atop the now disgruntled surface, quickly spreading your legs again.

“What? This is a punishment, I can’t let you enjoy it too much, now can I?” He teased, smirking infuriatingly as he angled himself back between your thighs, sliding back inside your warmth with a broken moan.

“And look,” He placed a rough, flushed hand to your jaw, squeezing your cheeks, channelling your eyeline directly with his own, “I can see that pretty face better now.”

Neil’s praise slithered down your spine, burning your face from beneath. His spare hand clutched hungrily at your ass, utilising the grasp in pulling you against his thrusts as he filled your cunt so perfectly.

Loose, dark strands of his hair cast themselves astray over his forehead, jaw tight and gritted as his cock twitched between your clenches.

Removing his selfishly angled hold upon your jaw, Neil inflicted the touch somewhere far different; between the part of your soaked thighs.

He moved almost desperately, pent-up groans fleeing his throat. Louder than any previous, you moaned against the sensation of his fingertips toying with the drastic, slick swell of your clit.

His damp, pinkish lips curved up, “You wanna cum?”

“Please.. Fuck, yes..” You mewled, pleading hopelessly, shamelessly as his digits worked unbelievably on your drenched, sensitive cunt, simultaneously filling it as a euphorically familiar sensation built in your stomach.

He mocked pondering, “I dunno, sweetheart, don’t think you deserve it.”

You let out exasperated breaths, watching the smugness contort his features.

“Please..” You begged, “I.. Fuck, I won’t do it again..” You scrambled for some form of convincing plea, endlessly tortured by the speed at which his fingertips developed, his cock thrusting deep.

"Oh, you won't?" Neil grunted, faulting hips slamming against yours, lips painted in a smug smile, "That desperate to cum on my cock?"

He applied the sweetest, most gratifying pressure where you needed it most of all, working in a stimulating unison with his length to bring you closer and closer.

"Fuck, that pussy's squeezing me so good.." He panted out, "I'm so close."

Suddenly, a familiar, tightly-wound knot snapped within your stomach, and your orgasm hit with the ferocity of a tidal wave, your legs trembling as the long-awaited force overpowered your body.

“Gonna make such a pretty little mess of you, teach you a fuckin’ lesson, hm?” Neil grunted, his tone gruff and quivering as he slipped out once more, breathing heavily as a burst of warmth coated your upper-thighs.

He groaned louder, more dishevelled as he came undone over your skin, features reddened and proud as he watched you peer down at his mark.

His chest rose and fell dramatically, a rather possessive feel to the manner in which he cupped your jaw, guiding your face to his, "Learnt your lesson?"

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!

[magnoliasforyourmedic]

OMG WAIT building on this post I made about Gene knowing how to sew a bit—what if there’s a “scary” old elderly lady who only speaks French in one of the towns they’re temporarily stationed at or whatever. And the boys are all lowkey afraid of her because she’s always criticizing them and yelling at them in French so they really have no idea what she’s saying. But she has a soft spot for a certain quiet little medic who shyly approached her asking in French if she could maybe possibly show him how to sew something a bit more complex than he’s used to

[omamorens]

divination wizard adaine & conjuration wizard oisin… oracle & storm summoner… the eye of the storm…. is this something?

definitely. :)

mostly headcanons here but something about the indiscriminate destruction of a storm, and the calm at its center being called “the eye” draws parallel to how oisin has always been a level-headed individual, even during his shatter-star state.

(do you ever wonder where his head space is at? do you think he imagines the divination wizard often, just to stay grounded, to stay in that calm even with so much anger inside him?)

and yet, all around him, the storm still rages on. unyielding and vicious. it threatens to ruin. it wants for blood.

(but there is a safety— in the midst of it. in his thoughts where she rests. he comes back to the thought of her as often as it takes.)

so how would it be even possible for him to disregard his childish infatuation with her when even in his most corrupted state, his vulnerability is wherever she is?

either way. i absolutely adore this characterization of them. i will never tire of writing about it so have these drabbles.

(excerpts from: shipwreck / unpublished works / private musings )

[good-beanswrites]

A second drabble of "Fuuta goes to get a 3am snack and Es is being Weird" LOL. I love @waivyjellyfish 's hcs of inhuman Es, and they would 100% use this to torture Fuuta. Nothing overtly supernatural happens, which just adds to his pain that it's all technically possible, but still creeping him the fuck out 😂

Fuuta blinked the grogginess from his eyes, the fridge light nearly blinding him. He shifted around some leftovers, picking out something that looked appetizing. He peered over his shoulder. It was the dead of night, and he’d hate to wake any of the others. Unfortunately, he had no such luxury himself. His grumbling stomach didn’t care about his need for rest. 

He placed a bite of cold food in his mouth. 

He closed the fridge door, revealing Es standing behind it. 

His coughing masked the sound of horror that would have come out otherwise. He’d leapt backwards about five feet, narrowly avoiding throwing the food directly at the warden’s darkened figure.

“You didn’t choose my cooking?” was all Es said in response to the mortifying reaction.

“The fuck are you doing!? I didn’t even hear you come in…” 

One would think that those clicking heels and collar of jangling keys would make Es into a walking noisemaker, but they were surprisingly silent everywhere they went. The prisoners had often joked about Es’ catlike steps. Fuuta in no laughing mood, now.

“Don’t you have a lot to do tomorrow?” He tried to shake the uneasy feeling swirling in his gut. “You’ve been talking about it all day, I thought you’d want as much sleep as you could get.” 

“I don’t sleep.”

“Does it look like I care that you’re drowned with work? That’s your own fault for trying to handle ten prisoners all by yourself. You’re not getting any pity from me.”

“Eh? No, I mean, I don’t sleep.”

Fuuta paused. “Stop fucking with me. I’m too tired for this crap.”

“I mean it. I was already awake when I heard someone up, I just wanted to investigate.”

“Bullshit. There’s no way you heard me from all the way down the hall, through that heavy door of yours. You’re probably hungry, too – but don’t get any ideas, these are mine.” He moved to the counter, transferring the food to another dish to heat. 

Es followed, their icy eyes flicking between him and the food. 

“You really prefer Mahiru’s cooking that much more?”

“Of course. Yours sucks. Don’t think I’ll give you any fake flattery just because you’re the warden.”

“I figured you would want me in charge of the kitchen instead of Jackalope. I’m just trying to help.”

“Tch. I’m pretty sure you’re trying to kill us.”

“With my cooking?” A smirk stretched across their lips. “There are easier ways to kill a person.”

Es stared at him, that odd smile on their face.

Fuuta tried to smother the shiver creeping up his spine. 

They had to have been messing with him. This is just how a bored warden gets their kicks, he figured. They sneak up on unsuspecting prisoners in the middle of the night and say ominous things. They just liked bringing up murder to get under his skin. And of course they slept. They slept, ate, and – he looked down at the dish of food. He had seen them eat, right? He wracked his brain for any memory of it. It would explain the poor-tasting cooking…

“Ah!” Es’ voice made him jump for the second time that night. He followed their gaze over to the doorway, where Jackalope was hopping into the dim kitchen. 

Es began to speak into the silence. This type of craziness, at least, was a familiar one: their insistence that they could speak to the little animal.

“I know, I know. … Yes, of course. I’ll be finished here in a moment.”

Fuuta’s gaze flicked between the pair. Tiny, black, beady eyes. Large, pale, round ones. Jacklope’s twitchy little nose. The way Es seemed entirely motionless.

“Whatever. I’m going to bed.” Fuuta grabbed the dish and stormed out of the room. He avoided meeting either set of eyes. Let them have their crazy, creepy conversations in the dark by themselves. He was out. 

Es’ voice echoed into the hallway as he hurried back to his cell. 

“Goodnight, Fuuta…” 

Fuuta tried not to look like a little kid running back through the darkened corridors, but he certainly didn’t take his time.

The sheets rustled around him as he got into. His back pressed against the cell wall, so he could keep an eye on the entrance. He strained his ears to listen for any unnaturally quiet steps.

Then he looked down at his food.

He had completely lost his appetite.

[bagerfluff]

Allergies

An: a short drabble because fuck allergies.

Casper sneezed for the fifth time.

“You okay? This is the fifth time you’ve sneezed in the past ten minutes”, you asked. Casper opened his mouth but he sneezed. Casper then rubbed his nose with his sleeve.

“It’s just allergies”, Casper said, though he missed pronounced allergies but you didn’t point it out. You stopped walking and turned to face Casper.

Casper sounded like shit, his nose sounds stuffy and he was red. His nose and eyes were red with tears brimming Casper’s eyes.

“Allergies? Everything's dead!”

You said while pointing at stuff with your hand. You and Casper were wearing jackets. It was the beginning of winter. Trees were leafless, grass was limp, air was cold.

There was nothing that caused allergies. “Then I’m allergic to death”, Casper said nonchalantly. You blinked a few times before smirking.

“You are death!”

You yelled with a smirk. Casper turned his head at you and glared at you while you just smirked. Casper smiled eventually, “I’m not death anymore”, Casper said softly.

You smiled and held Casper’s hand tighter. “Yeah, and I love you for that but”, you walked closer to Casper.

“How are you having an allergic reaction to nothing?” You asked truthfully. Casper rolled his eyes and let go of your hand, walking away.

“Hey, get back here!”

“Casper!”

“Don’t leave!”

“Just answer my question!”

“Wait for me!” You yelled while catching up to Casper.

Not knowing that he had a smile on his face.

[truetogaia]

just thinking and crying over the way simon would continue to refer to you as “his girl” even after your sudden passing.

he would talk about you as if you were still alive whenever relationships came up in conversation. and he’d be so reluctant to allow anyone, even his respected comrades, to try and comfort him.

“yeah, me n my girl have been together for years now. she’s everything. all i’ve got, ya know?”

he would make sure to always keep your resting place full of life. Whether that was by planting your favorite plant, and naming it after you, or always keeping it filled with bouquets of your favorite flowers. and he’d always take your beloved pet that you left behind to go see you.

“did you miss mommy, p/n? i bet our girl missed you so much.” and he’d smile sadly when your baby showed signs of recognizing your grave. his heavy hand petting it comfortingly “so excited to see her today, yeah?”

cod masterlist