#drabble dump

[magicicephoenix]

Have you ever thought of the dca's stimming? Or walking on tiptoes, or standing with the trex arms ?? (Cuz i stand with trex arms alot and thinking of my comfort characters doing it is so silly !! :]])

Also, could I give each of them a hug? If touch is okay, of course. ^^

(I like the color orange, sorry if it's harder to read)

i think about them stimming all the time… and Moon absolutely walks on tiptoes. constantly. it would be very bad if he was human but thankfully he is a silly little robot. quick compilation of Moon tiptoes i’ve drawn (plus bonus Sun stimming!):

Sun does trex arms! but Moon doesn’t, he is an arms-hanging-limp type bot :P

and of course you can hug them! here’s their reactions :)

Sun brightens at your request. “I’m always happy to hug, friend!” he chirps. He stoops down and pulls you tight to his chest, then lifts you off the floor. He spins you around, giggling and squeezing you with a happy hum. His grip is just about to dip into too-tight territory when he finally releases you, plopping you down on the floor with a wide smile.

Moon regards you, then nods and opens his arms. He waits for you to approach. When you’re within his reach, his arms close quickly like a Venus flytrap. He gently bundles you to his chest, his touch featherlight and feeling a lot like being enveloped by a comfortable blanket. He holds the position for as long as you wish, only retracting when you shift away.

[dross-the-fish]

more drabbles have been moved!

[mm-nani-fics]

[ZNN Drabble Dump; G]

Shooting Star:

New never really knows what to wish upon a shooting star, feels foolish almost when his mother points one out enthusiastically, closing her eyes and outlining her wish with her lips. He always ends up asking for something generic like, ‘I hope everyone stays healthy’ or ‘I wish to be happy,’ and feels content at the wonderful life he lives. And even though New might not know exactly what to wish upon a shooting star – sometimes when he looks at Zee making silly faces next to him, he thinks he knows what it’s like for his wishes to come true.

Home:

Zee has always had a very strong sense of home. The place he grew up in and the people he grew up with. He knows its home because facetiming his mom and watching her bicker with his sister feels something akin to putting a mirror up to his heart. Home is within when it’s another night long drive cramped in a van to a location shoot and he thinks of his dad tucking him into bed with a bedtime story. Cooking and board games, arguments over the TV remote, the soft feeling of New’s hair against his jaw when he tucks his face into Zee’s chest.

Hug:

New is often asked how they encourage each other. The answer is easy, he feels it every time his body rests against Zee, and every worry he has ever had melts away from the dark crevices of his body, how he feels that light as warmth that relaxes his muscles, how the sound of Zee’s heartbeat steady against him is the rhythm to which he calibrates racing heart. The answer is simple: ‘We hug each other.’

[hqfanaticism]

The Northern court had first come to know Shang Qinghua as a weak, pathetic human who lurked in their prince’s shadow.

They watched him cower and stutter and fall all over himself to appease the prince and anyone else who approached him.

They all assumed he would be dead within a few weeks, either by the prince’s hand or an opportunistic demon taking advantage of an easy meal.

But he survived even as the weeks turned into months.

And, slowly, the most observant among the Northern court noticed that anyone who threatened the human found themselves disgraced or banished. And anyone who spoke poorly of the prince while the human was around (most of the court entirely disregarded his presence) ended up dead.

They noticed how he would sometimes whisper in the prince’s ear and how the prince would listen.

Those who noticed quickly changed their understanding of their prince’s companion. The human was sneaky, clever, and not to be crossed.

As the months turned into years, the rest of the Northern court learned that lesson.

And then the human disappeared. Left the North and their new king.

The Northern court watched their king rage at the loss of the human, nearly tear his own realm apart to find him, and their understanding of the human changed again.

Was he even human? To have enraptured their king so fully, he must have been something more. Not just a succubus to have caught the king’s desires, but some heavenly creature that could capture the heart and soul of a demon king.

When he returned, the Northern court saw how their king catered to him, how he no longer walked behind their king but at his side, how he longer whispered in the king’s ear but spoke his opinion with the clear knowledge that the king would listen.

They might never understand what manner of creature he was. But they knew that he was their king’s equal in standing and began to treat him accordingly.

When their king announced that the human, the beguiling creature, would be his consort, no one in the Northern court was surprised.

He had already captured their king’s desire, love, trust. Now he would simply share his throne.

(AN: This was born from a curiosity of what the Northern court thought of SQH. I like to think that, in this version of events, if the Northern court found out that SQH created their world, they would immediately believe it. It would make complete sense to them, seeing as how a weak “human” managed to wrap their king around his finger. They would build temples to him and SQH wouldn’t notice until SQQ asked him why a bunch of demons are worshipping him lol)

[lilactwilights]

can’t stop thinking about frat gojo finally catching feelings…

it seems the world turns upside down when infamous frat bro, rich heir and resident fuckboy satoru gojo ends up settling down. 

there’s collective bewilderment that eventually lands into a generalized sense of skepticism because there’s no way him, of all damn people, chooses to waltz around campus with an all caps BOYFRIEND label slapped into his forehead, and so proudly at that.

it seems to come out of nowhere, too.

well, almost.

(you were discreet, just not enough)

you are no strangers. you have some friends in common and turns out people have seen you around him before, orbiting around each other at parties or academic endeavors at uni. you have been caught getting handsy in some dark corner of a party at least a handful of times or shamelessly exchanging spit in the least crowded places on campus in broad daylight.

a little more than a few people have seen you leave with him to god knows where, gingerly climbing up into his car as the party rages on or after you clock off at your part-time job on campus. they have caught you skipping up the stairs of whatever place together or inconspicuously walk towards the least visible bookshelves at an almost empty library, hand in hand.

more than one have noticed you disappear for a while, together, his arm snaked around your waist like it belongs in there and have witnessed you come back with a slight yet telling stagger in your step and gojo’s lazy yet smug million-dollar smile clueing anyone with two brain-cells on what your impromptu absence entailed.

(allegedly, there have been some sightings of both of you in casual strolls at the park, having dinner at a 24/7 place and sharing ice-cream down the riverside, but there’s no enough proof of all that, so to speak)

it doesn’t mean anything. 

because this is nothing more than routine for him, a fleeting adventure for the casual partner in turn and rich entertainment for the eager public consuming tabloids or spreading school gossip. 

you aren’t supposed to stay. you aren’t supposed to last more than a few weeks. if they do get a bit flexible and accept the possibility of whatever you share lasting months –as long as it is on and off, because there’s a past record of that— and even if there are considerably less reports of you two sneaking or hiding around dark in favor of casual sightings in less obscure places, you only become a full-fledged anomaly the moment talks about him referring to you as “his girl” to his team, his fellow frat bros —or whoever, really— start spreading about.

It seems the balance of the universe is a bit off when people notice his following list has decreased considerably and click on it only to find an inconceivable absence of all the usernames linked to whoever he had fucked previously. worse, he creates a whole ass story highlight with your initials and a damn stupid heart and daily spams his stories with every picture of you he seems to have on his gallery, which turn out to be many, for some reason.

or when, during a game, he happens to blow a kiss towards the section you are casually sitting at and seems to look for something after the winning score and practically disregards the trophy and the hands reaching for him in favor of holding you and spin you around, still sweaty and flushed and laughing in a picture-perfect shot that does make it to the school papers and the official university sports account.  

you quickly become the talk of campus. there’s a sentiment that seems to permeate every conversation beyond the usual mix of doubt, jealousy or surprise when you pass by with your hands entwined.

you are surprised when you finally understand it’s pity. 

because the truth is no one believes in satoru. no one believes ‘whatever you have’ will ever work out. why would he willingly tie himself down with anyone that’s not a supermodel or super-rich and throw away all the potential wildness associated with senior year is beyond everyone around you. 

he is not boyfriend material. his track record doesn’t help his case and men like him can never successfully commit at such a young age, less with someone that seems to be so different from him and move around circles he has never stepped foot into. 

within a few days, most people have decided this is an experimenting phase or a half-assed effort to appease the family that’s rumored to be on his ass for all his unsavory rendezvous. the public consensus seems to be that he will get bored and break up with you soon enough after whatever feeling or result he is after is finally on his grasp again. most are already feeling sorry for you, mocking your naivety or criticizing his heartless proceedings. sometimes all three at the same time.

it seems to affect you, somehow. you hate it, but there are days when all of it makes doubt rear its ugly head and the bitter taste of self-consciousness settles in your tongue. no matter how hard you try, you end up closing in yourself, avoiding the avid eyes eating you both up whenever you go out. 

but it’s hard to dwell on all of it when you see who the most fervent believer of your relationship is.

satoru doesn’t seem to be affected by anything. he doesn’t seem to listen to nasty words or ill-intentioned comments, only ever addressing them or shutting them down with a cold fury that only stems from whatever discomfort this provokes on you.

he has always been confident and self-assured and it’s so used to accomplish every single thing his mind has set into. success is on his nature. beyond the privileges and advantages life has gifted him with, satoru is a stubborn, passionate man. his pride is a driving force most of the time and he’ll be damned if the thing he is most proud about doesn’t work out.

because people out there aren’t privy to the late night conversations, the shared jokes and the cosmic compatibility the university blessed you both with. your paths were made to intertwine, he is sure of that. even if all of it started with a stolen kiss and sex that was supposed to be as casual and inconsequential as he was used to, there was no stopping the unexpected evolution of your shared time together. he can list all the things he liked and then loved about you and recount and pinpoint every single moment that lead him to realize that, as cheesy and mortifying as it sounds —or it sounded back then, for him—, you are meant to be.

he wrestled with that notion for months, agonized over the incipient feelings he was not familiar with and avoided even thinking about the implications of a reality he wanted so so hard to run from. but he has never been a coward. he was so close to give up something he hadn’t even tried to reach so he ultimately took a leap of faith. 

he jumped right into an abyss he had never been to but he decided you are worth the fall and whatever landing he is met with.

he knows damn well it was hard for you to trust his spiel and his promises about feelings and about trying and he swore himself that if there ever was the tiniest possibility of this ending in heartbreak it wouldn’t be because of him. 

so he learns and tries and fails sometimes and it’s so damn frustrating for him because he is not used to make mistakes but he has never been in a real relationship before so everything is new to him and so he is forced to take baby steps when all he wants to do is sprint.

he has stars in his eyes when he talks about all the plans he has for you both. he kisses you with hunger and reverence and whispers in your ear all the reassurances you never told him you needed to hear.  he gets overwhelmed when you fuck because, until the sweet heat and warmth of your body, he never knew how it was to mix the fire of primal lust and desperate hunger with the fuel of emotions and vulnerability of so many shared feelings. and god, it’s scary. but he has never felt more satisfied and happy in his life than when you are wrapped in each other during the afterglow. 

he gets a taste of insecurity and experiences scorching jealousy for the first time, because he never had the fear of losing anything or anyone at the hands of someone more understanding or compatible or soft or experienced with feelings than him. until you.

he soon finds out that you can push his buttons and pull at his most sensitive strings like no one has ever done. you hold a power over him and that is as infuriating and terrifying as it is exhilarating. he is forced to walk down a line with careful and measured steps, down a path that is as unknown as it is gratifying. he doesn’t know where it will lead or when it will end –if it even does– or if it will become steep or sinuous or keep being as calm as walk in the park you usually stroll at. 

people tell him he is not mature enough and that this is not meant to last or even be.

but satoru gojo, the infamous frat boy, rich heir and former fuckboy couldn’t give less of a fuck.

everything feels right when he is with you so he will cling to you as long as you will have him, which is hopefully forever.

(actually, he thinks he might be in love with you. but that’s a whole other thing. it might be too soon to address that one.) 

a/n: i LOVE frat gojo. i love when he is a manwhore but i also love to think of him after getting rehabilitated. he would be so WHIPPED because it’s the first time he experiences real feelings. he would be obsessed with his partner, actually. might kinda border on pathological for some and he might scare a few people with how intense he is but, hey, as long as they are both happy. we need more men devastatingly and pathetically whipped.

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 19 prompt : zombie

rated: T | cw: none | tags: post s4, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, Steve is giving

📼📼📼📼

Eddie knocks on Steve’s door at exactly 7pm, precisely when he said he would.

Partly because he’s been looking forward to watching his favourite film again all week. And, well, mostly because he’s been looking forward to watching his favourite film alone with Steve all week. He set enough reminders and planned his day ahead so he’d be right on time.

Steve opens the door a few seconds later, soft and glowing in his glasses and yellow sweater.

Time alone with Steve is still something Eddie can’t really believe is real. Let alone when the guy listening to his rants and actually, genuinely seems interested in what he has to say.

‘Hey Ed’s.’ He says and Eddie bows slightly, presenting his prized VHS of ‘Night of the Living Dead’, the one he found in Indi months ago and hasn’t stopped being obsessed with since.

‘Come on in then.’ Steve smiles at Eddie’s seriousness, walks him towards the low cozy light of the den with a hand on his lower back. ‘I’ll just get us a soda.’ He says softly, leaving Eddie to put the movie in and sit with the tingles that are travelling up his spine.

‘So this movie is, like, a big deal then?’ Steve asks as he comes back in and sits down. Handing Eddie a coke.

‘It is a big deal! He reimagined and reinvented a whole genre of horror. It’s like, it’s actually culturally significant yeah?’ Eddie says, swinging his coke around and darting his eyes around the room.

He looks to his side. Steve staring at him with his head resting in his palm, little smile on his face. ‘Go on.’ He says.

‘So yeah.’ Eddie swallows and shifts, tugging at his shirt. ‘It was released in the 70’s along with some other movies like Pink Flamingos by John Waters and fuckin Eraserhead and Rocky Horror Picture Show dude. Seriously weird shit. And they travelled around and screened late at night. So basically only freaks and weirdos went to see them. But that was perfect because these movies were made by and for freaks and weirdos, you know?’ Eddie finishes, buzzing with excitement.

‘I know now.’ Steve says softly, still looking at Eddie with his little please smile.

Eddie blinks, feeling too hot under Steve’s gaze. ‘Yeah so, anyway, it’s super important that you watch this, I mean you work at Family Video and Halloween is next week. You gotta know the fundamentals Stevie.’

Steve nods and Eddie watches his hand as he presses play. They both relax back against the sofa, Steve scooting a little closer and putting his arm across the back cushions. Eddie tries not to act weird. Tries to focus on the movie, he loves this movie.

But he can feel the heat radiating off of Steve’s chest. Can hear his breathing and smell his cologne.

He can feel his horrendously huge crush for the guy banging at his rib cage, begging to be let free.

But, it really is his favourite movie, so it engrossed Eddie in the end, the thrill of the story unfolding in that little wooden house never gets old.

But then the soft flannel of Steve’s pyjama pants is pressing against Eddie’s jeans. And Steve’s warmth is getting closer, the arm on the sofa shifting to around Eddie’s shoulders. ‘I know you said it was a horror but, it’s kinda spookier than I expected.’ Steve whispers to Eddie in the near darkness. So close now he’s sure Steve must be able to feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Eddie almost pulls away. Too afraid by the potential, by the what if of it going all wrong, of everything he has with Steve falling apart in his fingers. But he’s seen Steve on a battlefield, he’s seen Steve by his bedside in hospital. He’s seen steve in so many ways, and each one is the bravest thing he’s ever known.

So, Eddie decides to be brave too, he leans in close and wraps a protective arm around Steve’s waist. ‘I got you.’ He says, serious. ‘Won’t let the zombies hurt you.’ And he watches Steve’s smile grow, teeth glinting in the light of the television.

Eddie’s cheeks are on fire. But there’s no place he’d rather be, as Steve settles with his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie holds on for dear life.

‘Night of the living dead’ is definitely the best movie ever made.

📼📼📼📼

Tag list : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair

[itostea]

love and hate

tw: teenage gojo is unhinged & doesn't understand his own feelings, honestly unintentional but yandere(?) gojo

Gojo Satoru hated you. 

He loathed you. How prudish you were when it came to missions. How you'd look when you were scolding him about his “disregard” for the weak--and how your eyes would narrow at him in disdain, your lips curling up into an ugly snarl.

He detested your very being itself, your little habits--what essentially made you, you. Like the way your self-righteousness would near the edge of stubbornness. The way you tilted your head in intrigue whenever something caught your attention. The way your expression would morph into hideous concern whenever you listened to somebody’s problems. The way your eyes lit up whenever you were overjoyed. The way you’d fold your hands over your lap. The way you sat. The way you talked. The way you styled your hair. The way you smelled--addicting to the point it made him recoil yet lurch for more.

The way you just existed. Silently. Unbothered. 

He despised you to the point of wanting to cut you open so he could see if there was anything more to hate. He wanted selfishly to see your eyes tear up in anger and hear you curse at him, just so he can see the many other faces you’d make for him. He wanted desperately to make you feel, understand, this intense hatred he felt for you. 

And most of all, he cursed you for what you did to him--ravaging his mind night and day. As much as he wanted to see your face swell up as you cried he wanted to see your eyes crinkle once you smiled. He needed you to say his name over and over again--until your vocal cords would turn red with exhaustion. He wished for the feeling of your palm touching his--or maybe he’d even feel the warmth of your body against his. He yearned to sink his teeth into your neck so he could feel you writhe in his arms. He craved your lips as much as Tantalus craved water--out of reach but at the tip of his fingers. 

Gojo Satoru hated you. He hated you because you were just too easy to love. 

[magicicephoenix]

DOCTOR WHO AU???

IM LISTENING

PLEASE

HERE YOU GO. i am just rambling

it ended up being super long, so. under the cut :)

okay so i'm still not sure if it'd be better for y/n to be the doctor or the dca. because on the one hand y/n being the doctor makes them a very very lonely last time lord who outlives all the companions they've tried to keep over the years, who saw two robots (bc i think it'd be better if they were separate in this instance) and went "oh my god. companions who will never die.", thus getting immediately attached. and sun and moon are fascinated by this otherworldly being who looks completely human to every single one of their sensors EXCEPT the fact that they have two hearts. one for each of them WHO SAID THAT anyway since obviously the doctor needs an accompanying master if y/n is the doctor i think maybe vanessa as the master would work. something something vanessa was an old friend who turned to the dark side (afton, somehow??? maybe afton WIAIT MAYBE AFTON WAS THat one super important time lord in the time lord council or whatever they're called from the end of season four and he's DETERMINED to have the time lords come back and that's why vanessa does all that oh my god it all makes sense). and y/n is always hoping she'll leave old ghosts behind but she can't and it's devastating every time aughh... and meanwhile y'know the dca are childcare animatronics but they know and can see troubles in any age and they're seeing a worrying amount of unhealthy coping mechanisms in this mysterious "doctor," so much so that they wonder if this doctor needs a doctor of their own. because even if the doctor is a different species they still need all the basic necessities of life that a human does and the dca are very specifically programmed to help humans. so they're just about perfect to help y/n!!!! and umm i think being able to see the universe is a super big deal to a couple of animatronics who were confined to a daycare their whole lives. maybe the inciting incident to their initial meeting had something to do with aliens trying to take down the human race through the children. and the dca notice the children acting strange and start going for help but no one's listening to them because they're "just robots" and it's frustrating and awful and they keep trying until by some coincidence they manage to inform y/n about it and y/n LISTENS to them doesn't ignore them and that's literally the ONLY THING they were asking for and y/n is the only one to give it to them. and then they work together (and isn't that wild for the dca, working with a perceived human instead of working under them, being able to make suggestions and offer ideas and not being brushed off!!!) and solve the mystery and defeat the terrible aliens who were using children for their master plan but due to all of it the dca's daycare is destroyed. and the dca has nowhere to go but stupid fazbear entertainment. and they've almost resigned themselves to returning to the hell of being nothing but an object for a giant corporation... until y/n says "come with me." and the dca say "yes."

ah right um on the other hand. time lord dca. two ideas i had: one, the master could be eclipse. then there'd be secondary idea one-A where the dca are in one body and one-B where they're separate. dunno about that one because a big thing with the doctor is that they're the SINGLE last time lord other than the master and they're desperate for companionship because of that. idea two: one half of the dca is the doctor and the other half is the master. prolly sun being doctor and moon being master but i could absolute see the other way around as well! then it hurts even more because they're two halves of the same whole, literally The Sun and The Moon as maybe they've chosen as titles instead of doctor and master actually. but the thing about the sun is that everything else orbits around it while the moon only revolves about the earth. wait oh my god that's fantastic actually. Sun taking the Master role because everything must be circling him, he must be at the center of everything, without him everything would flicker out and die, HE'S the most important thing and he needs EVERYONE to KNOW. and the most frustrating thing is that the moon is so so so enamored by the stupid earth and its stupid humans to pay enough attention to him. only one half of that moon is ever facing him but he needs all of its attention, he needs to see it all, and if he needs to rip the moon out of its orbit to do that then he WILL. meanwhile Moon is the little saving grace of the earth, so far away and unnoticeable that the humans don't notice his aid (like how the moon causes the tides). if the earth stopped spinning he'd be there to start them it again (anyone seen that one comic from the "what if?" book? yeah). no matter what he is there to keep earth and the humans safe, even if it's from the bright burning star that they rely on for life. and he's so so lonely, doing his best in the shadows, alone without his counterpart that has long been lost to time (or so he thinks) until he stumbles upon y/n and can't bear to let go. so when Sun returns, hoping his grand motions will capture Moon's heart, he is devastated to see Moon instead clinging tight to this small, insignificant life form. what about him? what about all the time they'd spent together? what happened to the sun and the moon? why is he not enough? and from devastation comes rage. from rage turns destruction. and, unfortunately for Sun, Moon despises destruction.

...or something like that.

[batsvnte]

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 — Blade was one who you never expected to be with. Being part of the Stellaron Hunters has its ups and downs. The first months were light for you since you were sticking with Kafka. Occasionally Sam or Silverwolf would tag along if they were needed, rarely it was Blade. You didn’t push immediately to form some sort of relationship with him. You’d rather kept at a safe distance from the swordsman till the time was ready. Which was sooner than expected.

The inner turmoil sparked within him at the beginning. His goal was directly towards death. Taking every opportunity to throw himself into battle without any repercussions. During the few days he was developing feelings, he took precautions onto what he chose to battle whenever you were near. Protecting you was one of his priorities as it was for everyone else he was around. Kafka would often point out how he seemed to be showing off at rare times.

You on the other hand had an entirely different goal than what Blade had. Only Elio knows what it was since he was the one you came to. Often you would refuse to speak on your lifelong wishes, but as far as anyone knows it’s one of the more tamer goals you had. Fighting wasn’t the main concern, but it was something else that was more off the field.

The habits with Blade started out subtle but it was beginning to become noticeable. There was a day where nobody had seen him. Not even Silverwolf. When you entered your shared room during the night, he was there. Standing there with an blank look on his face. You could’ve sworn he was there the entire day since he wasn’t part of the script. He acknowledged your presence when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes. And yet he stayed, wanting to be with you after being gone for so long.

Anywhere you would go, he was there somewhere within your presence. It only took a few seconds (actually three according to Kafka) before he was there by your side. He’s grown comfortable after some time to finally trust himself to be physically affectionate with you without the fear of harming you. Sometimes he would have his arm around your waist, his hand holding yours or just standing close to you to where you might lightly bump shoulders. He wasn’t the type to admit things out loud. Rather let actions speak louder for his words.

But another thing was he was silent as hell. You lost count of the amount of times he had scared you since he was silently follow you and wouldn’t warn you about anything. It’s just seems like he appears out of nowhere when he’s there the entire time. Just going out for some fresh air, he was leaning against the wall with his eyes fixated on you. Going to the kitchen for a snack, he’s already grabbing it for you when you were just looking for it a second ago.

At times you would back up and accidentally bump into him out of nowhere when you thought you were by yourself. You would ask him to at least give you some sort of sign that he was there. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t.

It rarely ends well when he comes back from mission in the middle of the night covered in blood.

[thinkabtmar]

your eyes tell

Numb. That's all you felt watching him slowly slip through your fingers. Your words, 'okays' and 'get home safes,' flowed from your lips like a well rehearsed script, a routine you unwillingly embraced.

You were convinced every forced smile was enough to mask your true feelings, but you should've known Sae would always see right through you.

"You're clearly not okay." He says, worry evident in his eyes.

He lets out a sigh, gently lifting your chin to meet his ever so piercing gaze. "What's going on with you? Talk to me." He continues, voice stern.

You say nothing but your eyes tell him everything he needs to know. "Y/n... You know I love you right?"

"Do you? Or is football the only thing on your mind right now?" You scoff, driven by a swarm of insecurities that scream I'm not good enough for him.

...

His hand falls from your chin. He definitely hates me now. He's gonna break up with me and never speak to me ag- your train of thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the familiar warmth of his lips against yours.

You stand there, momentarily stunned before gently responding to his kiss. The storm of emotions that swirled within you moments ago melts away along with you at the feeling of Sae's hand pulling you closer by the waist, leaving only the sweetness of the moment.

You bury your face into his neck, clearly embarrassed.

"I'm freeing my schedule for the month. No more football. Just me and you," he whispers, lips curling into a soft smile at the way your eyes lit up at his words.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

A bit more of a fluffy ask than anything

Sanegiyuu discussing wedding stuff, and Sanemi goes "I think you should give me your last name" bcs he hates his last name despite the respect that came with it.

i say yes

Typically, for opposite sex relationships, the husband’s last name is taken. But, whilst discussing their futures, Sanemi points out that both of them are men. Giyuu’s quick to add that they could technically both keep their own last names, but Sanemi intervenes, poking Giyuu’s cheek to quiet him.

“I think you should give me your last name,” he says, resting his elbow on the table and leaning his head on his hand.

Tengen, who was visiting for the main purpose to be an annoyance, pipes up. “So you’re admitting that Tomioka’s the man, between the two of you?” He smirks. Sanemi throws the nearest thing close to him—an empty tea cup. Tengen, the fucking bastard, dodged it easily.

Ignoring their unnecessary banter, Giyuu hums. “You don’t like your last name? I thought you’d keep it…” He trails off, unsure how he was going to finish his sentence.

“Thought you might like the idea of me not being able to call you by your last name anymore,” Sanemi teases, rolling his eyes. Occasionally, when he was annoyed (or just for fun), he’d refer to Giyuu as ‘Tomioka,’ how he’d done in the past. Giyuu was never quite happy about it.

“That’s not-” Giyuu pauses. “Oh. It’s more than that, Sanemi. It’s just, like, Genya- And… I dunno. There’s a lot more to your name.”

Sanemi grows quiet for a moment. Tengen has the mind to not say anything.

“There is a lot,” Sanemi agrees. His tone is distant, and it’s clear his thoughts are elsewhere.

A flicker of understanding passes Tengen and he adds, “well, Tomioka, you could easily have a lot to your name if you let this guy take it as his own, too.”

Giyuu nods slowly, feeling that there was something more to why Tengen was the one who butted in. But he doesn’t question it, instead scooting closer to Sanemi. “So you’d be Tomioka, too?”

Sanemi flashes him a grin. “Sanemi Tomioka, right?” he confirms. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have thought I’d take the same name as the one I used to curse at.”

“Like, to my face, or alone in your room?” Giyuu pesters.

“Both,” Sanemi concedes.

“He was so damn in love,” Tengen grins. “Even when he thought he hated you, he was actually just fighting off the feelings.”

Sanemi shoots him a look. “I’ll just say that my hatred for you runs quite steadily, Uzui.”

“Okay, so, we’re settling on mine?” Giyuu asks, interrupting their arguing.

“Definitely,” Sanemi agrees. “Wouldn’t mind ditching ‘Shinazugawa’. I’ve had it for long enough.”

“Are you just marrying me so you can change your last name?” Giyuu deadpans.

Sanemi snorts. “Oh, yeah, my entire purpose of our relationship was to take your last name. I’ve never cared a moment about you, I just thought ‘Tomioka’ would be a nice replacement,” he huffs, affectionately nudging Giyuu’s shoulder with his own.

“You could say goodbye to me, too, if that was true,” Giyuu says flatly, though a smile plays on his face.

“I just realized how hard it’ll be to get used to this,” Tengen grumbles. “Alright, Shinazugawa, you’ll just be Tomioka. And Tomioka, you can be the pretty Tomioka. Or something. The original, better Tomioka.”

“You are so good at playing favoritism, there is no way you don’t have a favorite wife,” Sanemi grits out.

“I just like Tomioka better than you,” Tengen says, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t get so bitter about being a boring person. Can’t believe Tomioka’s actually agreeing to marry you.”

Giyuu smiles. “He has his pros and cons.”

“Wouldn’t take a genius to know which column has more,” Tengen mutters. Sanemi stands.

“You little shit—”

[letters-unsending]

60.

Hero and Villain get caught in a time warp. They return, but have discovered that the public has seemed to misconstrue their relationship in their absence.

////

Hero stood, hands on his hips, before the painting. The placard below the piece titled the work: A Final Embrace.

“Quite captivating, isn’t it?”

“We didn’t look like that, did we?”

The painting highlighted Hero’s hand, laced through Villain’s bloody hair as he drew their foreheads together. He vaguely remembered that part. Adrenaline and time travel had surely jostled his memories, but even then, had Hero really clutched Villain’s shirt like that?

Had his gaze been that focused?

“Well, the artist likely took liberties to make the piece more evocative.”

Hero looked to Villain as he spoke. His profile was serene, his lips slightly upturned. He took pleasure in knowing more than Hero due to his earlier return to the timeline:

“Who’s the artist?”

“A bystander, most likely.” Villain shrugged.

Purposely vague, Hero noted. Villain appreciated details above all else. He’d likely found the artist’s name, job history, and wiki page immediately after seeing the piece.

He turned back to the painting. The background was a chaotic swirl of purple and black, which enfolded a glowing ring—the portal. The brilliant light of the portal cast their joined silhouettes in stark relief and lit the blood and sweat crowning their temples.

“It’s beautiful.” He mumbled, taking it in. It hadn’t felt beautiful at the time.

The painting placed Villain hand near Hero’s cheek, sweeping a tender smear of blood over his skin. Hero reached out and ghosted his hand over his face, trying to recall the touch, or the exact depth of Villain’s eyes.

Lost, Hero looked toward Villain, whose gaze was already upon him. Villain’s brows creased softly.

“Does it alarm you?”

“The portal? It’s in the past now.” Hero smiled. “I don’t mind seeing it.”

Villain hummed, fingers thrumming at his sides. He stepped closer and carefully stretched his hand over the side of Hero’s face.

“I meant this,” Villain adjusted their thumb so that it mimicked the painting’s placement, “does this alarm you?”

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about all the ways you can comfort Price | 18+, MINORS DNI

Content tags: boot worship, oral fixation, cock warming, Top!Male Reader,

Something goes terribly wrong on a mission leaves Gaz injured, has Soap almost captured- could’ve almost ended with Ghost getting killed in action.

He’s usually good at staying composed- that is his job but not this time around. He crumbles so easily under the weight of everything and prays and hopes you catch him

And of course you do.

You do so when he comes knocking on your office door while you’re writing reports, his eyes glassy and lips wobbly.

You want to say something- anything but you also know what he needs right now so you gesture for him to come over, as you roll back your chair from your desk to make more space for the burly man.

He falls to his knees and eagerly crawls over to where you’re sitting.

There’s still a teary eyed look in his eyes, cheeks just as flushed and lips tilted into a wobbly frown as he kneels in front of you.

But just as your hand curls in his hair, you see a small shift in his face. Wobbly lips parting in expectation and the flush on his cheeks bleeds out into his ears as if feeling flustered about something.

He already knows what’s coming and so do you as you pull him face first onto your crotch. A “thank you sir” escapes his lips before eager hands unbuckle your belt, fingers expertly unzipping your pants, pulling them down along with your boxers before taking your cock down his throat.

His glassy eyes shut close and something akin to a sigh escapes his nose as his wobbly lips suckle on your cock.

He’s in no hurry to get you off- matter of fact you don’t expect to cum at all- not that you mind as you roll back your chair in place making sure not to disturb him too much.

Every once in a while you’ll stroke his hair, praise falling from your lips as you work your way through your reports. He’ll respond with a hum or a nod, or not say anything at all, lost in his own world but at least his mind is silent in this very moment and that’s what he needs the most

He’ll even come to you late at night, and crawl under your sheets while you’re sleeping, expecting even then for you do catch him. The sudden action startles you from your sleep but you don’t panic, body and mind already knowing it’s Price. You can hear his heavy sigh and smell the cigar smoke on his clothes, and as you turn around to face him your suspicions are confirmed.

He’s sporting a wobbly smile, eyes watery and cheeks flushed. You can already taste the familiar words of comfort dangling at the tip of your tongue but you know those are not the ones he wants to hear so instead you sigh before you tell him turn around, palms cupping and spreading his behind.

He’s already prepared himself, all you have to do is slide into him. You roll your hips ever so gently and hold him oh so steadily. The goal isn’t even to finish its to have his body close to yours. He wants to feel your arms around his waist, your breath washing over his neck, wants the weight of your body to anchor him to the world. Once you’re all done he’ll beg you not to pull out, at least not now, says he needs to feel you close, needs to feel you inside. So you do as he says, pulling the sheets over your bodies while staying inside of him, kissing him gently on the cheek and drifting off to sleep.

It’s not just the sex that brings him comfort. It’s the intimacy of it all and that’s something you learned early on in your relationship. He just wants to know that you’ll be there to catch him when he falls- wants to know that you’ll be there to catch him before he’s even got a foot over the ledge. And you will. You always will.

And sometimes catching him means letting him clean your boots.

“Kneel” You say and just as the words leave your lips he falls to his knees, already grabbing the supplies and propping your boot clad foot on his thighs.

There’s no sign of tears as he undoes the lace, no frown on his lips as he grabs ahold of a brush to clean the grim off of the leather. The only exchange of words is the tidbits of praise you’ll give to him, to which he’ll only respond with a hum or a nod, feeling too content to even talk, mind finally silent and focused on something other than his fuck ups. By the end of it, your boot is glistening and he’s ever so gentle as he puts your foot down onto the ground.

Eventually he does speak, the words “thank you” falling from his lips as he buries his head in your stomach or thighs, breathing getting heavier as his hands ball up. For one second you think that you’ll finally feel the wet sensation of tears hitting the fabric of your jeans but when nothing comes you cup his cheeks, and look him in the eyes as you tell

“It’s alright” you know he’s listening but you also know he isn’t registering what you’re saying, head clouded with fear and worry.

“Not your fault” you say to him as you bury your fingers into his hair as if hoping to detangle the fears and worries from his head.

“Did all you could, John “ you say, hand ever so gentle as it caresses his hair.

Eventually his breathing will even out, eyes closing shut and for a moment his worries fizzle out.

At some point those same fears and worries will start bubbling to the surface again but you’ll be there when it happens, you’ll always be there

[writersmorgue]

BNHA does TikTok trends: candy salad trauma dump 🍬

inspired by @weewoow-20706030's post

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

-------

@.minatheealienhero posted a new video!

Transcription:

"Hi! I'm Midoriya, and when I was 14 I was told to kill myself, suffocated and almost killed by a slime villain, and told I would never be a hero in the same day."

...

"Midoriya, the candy."

"Oh, right, and I brought Twizzlers!"

-

"I'm Bakugo Katsuki, when I was 17 my heart exploded and I died. I didn't bring anything and I'm leaving now."

"Thanks for participating!"

"Fuck you."

-

"Hey! I'm Red Riot, and I watched one of my teachers die in front of me. I brought Crimson Riot gummies!"

-

"I'm Denki! I once fried my brain during battle and was legally dead for seven minutes. The video of it went viral and my uncensored corpse was on the cover of a magazine. I brought skittles!"

"He has it framed in his office."

"Well, it's funny now."

-

"Hey everyone! I'm Uravity, and when I was 16 a girl sacrificed her life for me and I watched her die while her quirk kept me alive. I brought gummy bears!"

-

"I'm Shouto. My father's family bought my mother for her quirk-

-I was burned with boiling water-

-he died, or we thought he did. I'll get back to that later-

-severely isolated, at least according to my therapist-

-he tried to kill me, which was unfortunate-

-but then I had to fight him even though he's my brother-

-I mean and he was basically just a skeleton at that point but somehow still lived-

-and he said 'soba' which was heartbreaking,-

-but I don't really remember a lot of it. So there's not much else I can tell you. Oh, and I brought these strawberry candies. They're my favorite."

"Great, thanks."

"Why are you crying?"

"Why aren't you?!"

-

"-the red button, yeah like that! Okay so I'm Mina, and when my quirk manifested I gave my mother an acid burn that permanently disfigured her, and I can count on one hand the amount of words she's spoken to me since. And I brought whoppers!"

-

"My name is Shinsou, I brought... I don't know what these are but Denki said they're good. Anyway, when I was little my biological parents muzzled me and kept me locked in the basement for two years."

-

"Hi! I'm Jirou, and I had part of my ear ripped off mid-battle and still had to fight while in excruciating pain. I brought nerds."

"...I also had to listen to Denki do karaoke the other night. That was really traumatizing"

"Kyoka, shut up!"

"Learn how to sing!"

[chibinasuu]

Sanji Week 2025 - Day 5: Sea

Sanji never knew a life away from the sea. From a seafaring kingdom to a passenger vessel, to a floating restaurant, and finally a pirate ship. The sea is all he has ever known. And oh, how he loves the sea. He loves the spray of the salty mist upon his face and the gentle breeze—or savage winds—that tickles his hair. He's always grateful for the bountiful catch the sea provides him, allowing him to cook delicious meals for his crewmates every day. He finds himself craving that distinct briny scent of the ocean whenever his adventures take him inland for too long, and sometimes, he even has trouble falling asleep without the gentle sway of the waves beneath him. Sanji believes his path will always be linked to the sea. And on the sea he will be, at the end of his dream—and he knows it will be the most wondrous sea of all.

[wwwvrly]

fwb cate who’s maybe had a hard day and she’s come over just to disassociate at your place. she’s very much like a lost puppy following you around, needing you to just take care of her.

if you’re working and too busy to pay attention to her, she’s very much just leaning heavily onto you with her big glassy eyes peeking up at you every once and awhile.

there’s one thing she loves when she gets like that and it’s when you set up a warm bath with candles for her. she likes to empty her mind as you sit and hum quietly while washing her with a wash cloth or your gentle hands. and she especially likes the aftermath of letting you guide her to your bedroom in just a towel whilst you press gentle kiss after gentle kiss to her lips and all over her face.

it’s probably the only time she’ll whine and pull you closer, whispering how much she loves you. and maybe it feels like you’re more than just fwb for a short while.