christmas ★ drabbles (ii)
Fandoms in Part 2: Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt, Persona 3 Portable, Soul Eater, Pokémon, Pokémon Special
How to Search through fandoms: Ctrl + F, type in the fandom (PSG, P3P, SEater, PKMN, PKSPE)
How to Search for your request: Ctrl + F, type in your username

26. lucifer
Panty/Brief, for zeittari
romance, drama
There is a woman who steals his breath every time she flashes her underwear.
Her hair is a riot of lightning. It falls in all the right ways, cascades over her milky shoulders and down to the small of her back. Her eyes are deadly blue, the kind that make men go weak in the knees with just one flick of an eyelash. Whatever she wears, she flaunts it with her glamour, whether it is a crimson red dress, her uniform, or nothing at all. She’s an angel, but that isn’t the reason why he loves her so.
She’s a portmanteau of immoralities – juggles the sins of lust, greed and sloth with one manicured hand while orally abusing vulgarities with tulip red lips. She slouches with zero finesse, sits with her legs parted, plucks the strap of her elaborate-lace bra to try and wiggle out more comfort. She conducts herself to her own inclinations – doesn’t mind being a real bitch and hurting other people to get to her means. She’s a free-spirit, unhampered by the glory of societal virtues. She brushes off decency and points Backlace at the forehead of obligation.
And good god, that is amazing, to not be governed by anyone but yourself – to fight for your desires. If only he can do the same, if only he can generate the courage that exudes off her skin. She doesn’t need the arc of her wings, doesn’t need the glow of her halo – he’ll see her as an angel no matter what happens.
But now, there is a dull circle lying dead at the foot of the bed, the feathers of crippled wings fading against the sheets – and a look of utter defeat plastered on her face. She has nothing left except a pair of torn panties – and as he is pulled away from her, he searches whatever light that remains in her eyes.
And the wonderful thing is that he can still see she’s an angel.
A fallen angel.
★
[P3P]
27. adieu
Ryoji/FeMC, for heylala
romance, drama
“Stay with us.” It is her only request.
“I can’t. I don’t want to see you die,” Ryoji weeps, wiping the shame with his scarf.
She laces his fingers with his, lets him rest his head against her chest – lets him hear the calm and stable pace of her heartbeat, smiles when his tears soak her jacket.
“I won’t,” she whispers a promise.
When he reaches up and presses his lips softly against hers, she knows he doesn’t quite believe her anymore.
28. living down these expectations
Akihiko+Mitsuru
friendship, humour
[By no means do I think that they aren’t compatible to one another romantically, they were actually the first couple I shipped in P3P, but I’ve found their friendship to be really adorable/interesting during the course of the game]
The two prettiest students in the first-year cohort had to be dating. Mathematical law, scientific study, and cookie cutter magazines fraught with ‘does that boy really, actually, totally like me’ quizzes all pointed towards the unbiased deduction. They were meant for one another – the tough boxer with a cold, blunt shoulder was no doubt head over heels with the prim and proper lady who owned a closet the size of a classroom.
Except it really wasn’t the truth, no matter how much Mitsuru tried to calm the sniffling, heart-broken girls, and Akihiko locked his arms over all the boy’s necks in goodwill.
Just because they stayed in the same quiet dorm and just because some students claimed to see them out in town together near midnight did not mean they were romantically involved. People jumped to conclusions for the cheap thrill of jumping.
“Honestly,” Mitsuru sighed after another day of ducking under the perceptive radars teenage girls possessed and turning a deaf ear to the gossips. Akihiko fell down next to her on the sofa in the lounge.
“How long will we need to deal with this?” He shook off his gloves and folded his arms.
“I’m not sure,” she found it in herself to smile, “perhaps until you are out of my league, or I am out of yours.”
Akihiko raised a confused eyebrow. “Look, Mitsuru, you should know by now that I don’t actually get what girls are talking about half the time,” he explained, “could you simplify things for me?”
The redhead chuckled, patting her friend on the shoulder. “Alright, I say we don’t let them get to us – they’ll figure it out sooner or later.”
***
She collected all she could back to the dorm, and proceeded to have an evening of good laughs with a rather exasperated Akihiko.
29. Blue Hawaii
Junpei/Chidori
romance
[They are so sweet, but sometimes I’m stuck thinking about what part of her made Junpei fall in love.]
It’s a cocktail of chaos and captivation, a hurricane of sweet and sour. If its Chidori, he can’t quite differentiate between love and panic; they are almost synonymous when he’s with her. He knows the maps of her mind like the back of his palm – it no longer unnerves him to see her sprinkling life into flowers and drawing secrets in her sketchbook.
Junpei’s ideal romance does not play out like this, he had drawn out elaborate plans of his dream girl – he would confess to her on the school rooftop, exuberating with manliness and undying love. If they were in the same class, she’d pass love notes to him and he’d squiggle tiny hearts in reply. He would be the bane of his friends, who would envy his lovable girlfriend as they held hands and marched home together in the afternoon sun.
Instead, it is Chidori with her gothic white lace. It is her, with her crimson hair and blank, soul-searching eyes and nursing hands. There is only a hospital bed in a room suffocated with air too clean, too sanitized. Her, with the days where she sits like a quiet doll, rolling dice in the sanctuary of her mind – and the days where she cracks a smiles as he slides the door open. When she tickles the daises until they bloom out of their deaths.
Ken and Akihiko don’t bother him about Chidori – the Guy code is sacred. But Junpei can feel their concern when he stands up from the couch and tells Fuuka he will be visiting the hospital again.
“She’s special,” he explains to the twelve-year old and the seasoned upperclassman.
And he thinks he won’t be able to love that dream girlfriend as much as Chidori.
★
[SEater]
30. raissonable
Crona, for xxsystemxx
angst
The world is supposed to be beautiful, isn’t it? The kind of beautiful associated to girls with emerald eyes and authentic smiles and charming pigtails. You know – the sort of girl with legs that don’t give up and unbreakable arms – the kind of breathtaking wonder a girl who dances with a scythe will emanate. It’s been a long time since that kind of beautiful was ever a part of my world.
My world is a desert, a dungeon, a cage, a room lined with bars and chains. I don’t think I can tell the difference anymore. My life is not this and that, neither here nor there, I live only to fulfill Mother’s orders. I live only as a tool, someone not meant to understand the concept of beauty. Rather, someone who can only write caustic poems and dream nightmares and swing a cursed sword in my hand.
My world isn’t beautiful at all. My world is nothing apart from Ragnarock’s claws and Mother’s instructions. This is how it’s supposed to be. This way, I won’t get hurt. I’ll be the one hurting others instead, and there’s something beautiful and tragic about that.
Right? Maka?
31. It’s In the Cards
Soul/Maka, for akumugan
romance, humour
[You know how weapons and meisters have a bond? My headcanon thinks that if a pair is close enough, they should be able to exploit said bond and pick up feelings/snippets of what the partner is thinking.]
“Soul?” Maka called from her room.
“What?” the weapon shouted in reply. He didn’t quite have the capability to part with the sofa and the explosions dazzling across the television screen.
“You’re dressing up for Kid’s birthday?” Soul sniffed, scratching his stomach. Maka performed a series of short nods, shedding some embarrassment.
If Soul wanted to be completely honest with his trusted partner, he would have told her that the three selections she picked out were identical to one another. They all had sleeves, they all had skirts, and they were all black, practically triplets. He knew better though, only after many trials of watching her play dress-up, speaking the truth, and subsequently receiving a book to the head.
“The one on the left,” he gambled, returning his eyes to the TV when he heard another car smash against a wall and combust with manly testosterone.
“You said that without thinking,” Maka frowned.
This just became one of the times Soul had to curse the Soul Resonance they nurtured – it made it too easy for her to throw out a correct guess on what went on in his head. But two could play the game. The boy focused all his attention (well, most of it – the motorcycle was doing a crazyass flip off the ramp there) on his meister. He locked eyes with her and prodded at the bond they shared. He netted a handful of her thoughts, about oh-god-buying-more-pads (ouch, awkward), about remembering how to waltz, about wearing a dress Soul liked so that he’d look at her more–
His face was red the next second, and wait – just why did Maka want to wear the dress he liked? Soul jumped onto his feet and took the one hanging in the middle of the girl’s arms, stared blankly at it, before thrusting it back at her. “T-that one, now go and get changed, we have to leave soon,” he pieced his words together in a way that was horribly uncool.
The female gave him a contented smile. “I like it best too,” she admitted, before hurrying back to her room and locking the door.
Soul dashed to the sink and splashed water onto his face, combed his hair down and slipped on his favourite headband. And no, it wasn’t because he wanted to become more presentable for Maka, of course not.
He just wanted to impress… Kid?
32. The Boyfriend Theorem
Harvar/Jackie, Ox/Kim
Humour, Romance
Jackie snapped her eyes away from the couple, turning behind her to find a boy wearing his signature visor. Her fingers scrapped against the chipping paint of the metal. It wasn’t the most promising position to be in, stooping behind a fire hydrant while spying on your meister and her boyfriend on their date. Now that Harvar had caught her in the act, the humiliation ricocheted off the scales.
“Well, what are you doing then? Following me?” she snapped, avoiding the conclusion the boy had in his eyes.
“Yes,” Harvar admitted with such an easy air, the girl wanted to clobber his vapid nonchalance. “You seemed suspicious after class today, looking at Ox with what I perceived as a killing intent,” the weapon gave his systematic inference, hands tucked in his pockets.
“You didn’t stop me until now?” Jackie arched an eyebrow – she had been tailing Kim and Ox for at least thirty minutes as they held hands and explored the bevy of cryptic stores around Death City. Harvar could have chosen a more advantageous time to burst her bubble, because Jackie was almost sure that Ox had tried to sneak a kiss on Kim’s cheek back there near the basketball court.
Maybe they had already smooched, and Harvar distracted her in the pivotal moment – Jackie cursed inwardly.
Harvar had not replied to her earlier question, which made the girl curious – she rose to her full height and approached the boy, eyeing him with wariness. “Were just as concerned about your Ox?” she teased, perching her hand on her chin as a smile spread across her face.
“Maybe,” the boy considered, “but mostly because you looked busy, I didn’t think it right to interrupt you.”
Jackie was conquered by Harvar’s answer. And just when she thought he could not get any stiffer – the lantern stifled a chuckle, but she did not have to capability to control the outburst of laughter that overcame her the next moment.
“What?” the boy asked mechanically.
“And Jackie! Don’t tell me you were spying on us again?” Kim clicked her tongue with disapproval, the tone of her voice frosting the lantern’s heart.
“I was not following you,” Harvar started to correct. Jackie dived for the chance, it was all-or-nothing, a desperate stake to salvage her image in Kim’s eyes. She grabbed onto Harvar’s lingering hand, and posed in triumph.
“He was with me, and we… we were spending time together!” she struggled to say.
Kim and Ox quickly apologized for their intrusion, Ox sneaking his weapon a firm thumbs up and Kim winking good-luck.
And if she hadn’t known better, Jackie thought Harvar was hiding a smile at her expense.
★
[PKSPE]

33. a somewhat-home
Oak family+Bill, for snoaz
family, humour
[Sorry they aren’t having dinner together! They are going to though! I just couldn’t think of any nice banter to write ;;]
It was his first Christmas spent outside of his cabin in Cerulean cove and the blinding city lights of Goldenrod. Daisy assured him that it would be enjoyable and worth his time, and the moment he saw her coming out of the kitchen in an apron to place the silverware, Bill had to agree wholeheartedly. The yellow apron had a miniature wigglytuff sewn on the front, and her name stitched out in cursive.
Bill decided that he would be safer out of the kitchen, so Daisy led him to the living room with a gentle hand. Bill was so caught up in staring at her beauty that he hadn’t realized he now sat next to the most respected pokémon professor in the world. He swallowed a scream of delight as Professor Oak sifted through the day’s newspaper, legs crossed. The number of questions begging to be asked multiplied in his head as the older man folded the news and turned to make light conversation with him.
Bill didn’t know where to start – The latest findings about new pokémon? Flaws in the system? The type of coffee he drank? – there were too many to list.
“So, Bill, let’s get straight to the point here,” Oak cleared his throat. The researcher nodded his head, eager to listen.
“How far have you gone with my granddaughter?”
34. Head over Heels
Silver/Crystal, for akumugan
romance
Silver tries not to over-think it.
It’s hard though, with her so close to him, breathing the air he gulps, strands of sea-dyed hair framing her face. She bends closer to him, her pigtail teasing his rigid shoulder and sending improper signals to his panicking brain. He can’t function like this – with her lips one turn away from his, with her thighs pressed together and knees touching the sides of his legs. Her touch is more potent than anything he’s ever felt – and he’s the unlucky guy that has been frozen in ice and trapped in stone.
“I told you not to over work yourself,” she says with a hushed voice, one hand moving to check the swollen bruise throbbing on his left foot. Silver flinches when she does this, and she only shakes her head with the type of worry she usually reserves for Gold’s idiocy. “Rely on your pokémon more, it won’t hurt them,” she advises with habit.
He remembered trying to scale down a ledge by himself. Her xatu flew her down easily, while he half-rolled, half-skidded (fifth-screamed) into some bushes and knocked his foot against a stubborn boulder. And, no, he hadn’t tried to do it himself to appear cool, he… he wasn’t as immature as Gold.
“Let’s go,” he finds his voice and struggles onto his feet, pushing off the trunk of the tree.
It’s the worst decision he’s ever made in his life – the next moment he loses his balance, and Crystal has to slot herself next to him. She locks an arm over his shoulders and pushes her weight against his body to steady him on his one good foot. His face flushes to an immediate shade of rogue, because she can’t be that ignorant about the curves she’s got equipped, can she?
“I told you not to move so fast!” she cries, nags, lectures – in the end, it makes no difference to Silver. All he can discern is her care, like a bullet to the heart, really. “I’m alright, we have to meet up with Gold,” he reminds her, effectively calming her down. “Get your hitmonchan to support me instead,” he tells her without making it too obvious that he likes how her chest feels.
Crystal shakes her head.
It is no more than the size of her earring.
35. Triggering Flags
Oak/Agatha, for xxsystemxx
humour, general
[sorry system ;; I could think of nothing less but fail!banter.]
“You were checking her out.” Agatha accused while scrutinizing her nail polish.
“What does she have that I don’t?” the ghost-specialist pursued, tapping her right hand against her left elbow. She eyed the young researcher with expectations – was that jealously he glimpsed in her eyes? –, and Oak swore he saw a ghostly smile unravel above her shoulder. He had to think on his feet – come up with an answer that did not sound insulting – he couldn’t lie, Agatha had stuck around him long enough to know when he twisted the truth. And he was very well aware of the things she could do with her ghost pokémon.
“Maybe I mistook her for you?” he proposed. Of course, her sister seemed a great deal kinder than her (from what little he knew about her, seeing as Agatha had taken it upon herself to shove her younger twin out of the room), it was easy to differentiate between them, but that wasn’t the point.
“Which means I was checking you – oh forget it.” He had to improve his social skills, switch off the computer for once.
“Oh.” The female trainer processed his words, and he exhaled. Girls were easy to deal with, flatter them and they were tamed. Simple as that.
“Sorry, but I don’t love you.” Agatha spoke, her tone far from an apology.
“Wait, what?” the man cried at her (he begged) jest, “I never said that I liked you! And you can’t reject someone before they confess, it’s impossible.”
“You were planning to confess, were you?” the woman laughed, placing her hands on her hips.
“No, I wasn’t.” The man held up a hand, because – honestly.
36. Lotus
Giovanni/Koga, for xxsystemxx
general, romance (slight?)
“Shape up, Koga. You won’t be in the triad if you don’t improve yourself,” Giovanni cautioned. Only after he said these words, did Muk melt from Koga’s shoulders and curl around the threatened sleeve of the larger man’s suit. The ground-type specialist grinned at the act, visibly pleased. “Ah, I see you still have some tricks up your sleeve,” he commended.
Koga retained his silence as he snapped his fingers - Muk retreated from Giovanni’s limb and collected itself on the floor, before being withdrawn into its pokéball.
The ninja was a little concerned that Giovanni still had his arm draped around him, but the man just drew him closer and whispered into his ear. “Alright, I’ve decided to tell you the plan.” He squeezed Koga’s shoulder, and it didn’t seem like he was about to let go anytime soon.
Koga never spoke out against it.
37. Second Star to the Right
Silver/Blue, for karudoll
romance
She rocks on the balls of her feet, trying to shove the golden star onto the pinnacle of the Christmas tree.
He smiles – a quiet, reserved curve of the lips – and takes the ornament from her and proceeds to affix in on the tree. Blue stands back in momentary awe, wondering how and when Silver had grown taller than her. She strikes her left hand out to measure the distance between the top of their heads – at least half a head. She chews her thumbnail with consideration, as he tilts his head to the side and waits for her to come to a revelation.
“Ah well, I suppose something good comes out of this,” the young lady finally says, slumping onto the sofa located opposite the warm fireplace and ornamented tree.
“What?” Silver asks, voice plain and curious.
“I’ll look younger standing next to you,” she grins as he sits himself down a polite distance away from her.
The boy offers her a stiff nod, unsure of what else to do. He becomes more uncertain when she bridges the gap between them and uses her hand to comb the hair out of his eyes.
“And now I won’t have to bend down anymore when we k– !” The incomplete statement earns the girl a very flustered Silver, who seizes the liberty to clamp his hand over her mouth.
38. Kosher
Dia/Platina, for cherinbo
romance
She has a catalogue of pokémon to choose from, though she is happy with just a loyal piplup and an elegant ponyta. A flick of her wrist could land them the most luxurious suite of the ritziest hotel in a generic city, though recently she has been less insulted about the idea of camping outdoors. A whisper of her last name is enough to send everyone to her feet, displaying their fanciest goods and most useless trinkets – though all she holds value in are books and encyclopedias and dictionaries of the knowledge she has yet to master.
She could probably afford to bring in professionals to improve her training regime – but she’s contented enough with him and Pearl and her, three budding trainers sorting through strategies and bickering a little in the process. Paper masks and poorly drawn faces, headbands that shout ‘fight!’ and the limited ability of two comedians, she treats all these like the most wondrous things in the world.
And it is these very things, coupled with the way the air around her seems to sigh and glisten with her nobility, that make her a Lady. Dia knows he shouldn’t judge her by material means, and settles on what he hopes is a gift she will like.
Her cheeks glow as she hangs each ornament on the branch of the tree, a picture of joy and excitement. She had been raised in a household where all the servants oriented everything, from hanging decorations to baking gingerbread men – it is not a surprise that she has no experience with the crux of Christmas traditions. She insists on propping the star on the apex on the little tree, Pearl fetches the stool. The second boy takes her hand, the one with the diamond ring, and helps her on it, and watches a smile blossom on her face.
She doesn’t let go of his hand when she says “Merry Christmas”.
39. Minefield
Dia+Pearl+Platina, for chamo_chan
friendship, humour
Pearl is the risk-taker, he crafts his ammo on the spot and propels it around the war grounds at a rapid pace – most of his snowballs miss their targets due to the absence of accuracy. Platina is calculative, ensuring her projectiles are of the right shape and size, she flings the mishappen ones at the two boys, and saves the perfectly oval snowballs for admiration later – it is her first ever snowball fight, she has to preserve some mementos.
And Dia’s strategy is worlds apart from the raging boy and the organized girl.
He hides behind his fort, and tries to eat as much as he can until Pearl catches him. This doesn’t happen until after said blond fires a snowball right into Platina’s stunned face, and receives a barrage of snow and ice (courtesy of Empoleon) in offended revenge. The only escape route is Dia’s home base, which turns out to be devoid of snowballs, but chock full of riceballs.
40. Igloo Crisis
Ruby/Sapphire, for chamo_chan
romance
Thankfully, yesterday’s snowfall had not managed to invade the Secret Base – he had rushed over before his mother had even finished preparing breakfast, just to see if she had survived the night.
Ruby produces a ‘tsk’ when he realizes that Sapphire had decided her cape of leaves to be a sufficient blanket. He starts to search for her sweater, and finds it folded neatly in the little red tent he’d set up over a couple of years ago. The boy hurries back to her side and prods her shivering arm, but Sapphire only swats his hand away, growling a low and cryptic message. Ruby has to ask himself why he is such a saint as he grabs her shoulders and hoists her so that she’s sitting on her legs. The girl is half-awake now, though still mumbling gibberish and mostly content with keeping her eyes closed.
The boy fumes at her lack of cooperation, but after much effort, he takes off the leaves – gawks at what little she wears underneath – and pulls the sweater over her head. This is when she finds the shoulder of his black jacket to be an appropriate pillow, and proceeds to rest her forehead there, much to Ruby’s mortification.
He’s technically a male, after all the fashion magazines and premium sewing sets – so it’s not like he hates this dilemma. But it’s not his hormones he’s worried about – Sapphire herself, is a much greater force to deal with. He can only imagine what will happen when she wakes up coherently and finds herself in such close proximity with the enemy – it’s either the cliff or the rapids from then on, and both would damage his clothes pretty badly.
“Warm,” she murmurs against him, and Ruby stops attempting to pry her off.
He supposes he could lose a jacket or two, as he wraps his arms around her. He sighs at how hopeless she is without him – and how it will take Sapphire an excruciatingly long time to come to terms with this truth.
41. Heuristics
Thorton/Platina, for zeittari
romance
[ahhh sorry, it became romance!]
But one day, she asks a question that has scarcely very little to do with pokémon and battle tactics – it makes his cheeks hot and his voice trip over in his throat. He thinks maybe a practical session will be the best way to teach her, but she is already ahead of him, shutting her eyes and breaching the distance between them.

42. Cocaine Hurricane
Cynthia+Sabrina, for crazypackersfan
drama, horror
“Sabrina, is it? You listen to me, you look at me, and no one else,” a smile.
She did not know Lucian had a girlfriend.
43. Killing it with Kisses
Green+Gold+Kris, for fugthimble
friendship, angst
It’s not hard to do; they are the only people who feel this way, that much they can promise, hearts crossed by frozen blue fingers. No one else is brave enough to challenge the Champion, and it is true what the stories say – that no one is stronger than Him.
Green takes in the perpetual whiteness around him with arcane eyes, unsaid questions spiking his lips. Gold doesn’t say a word, his eyes find home on the snowflakes when they melt against on the ground. Kris sings opaque songs, of the never-ending cold, of heroes and death. It will always be like this, an eternity of silver, until one of them knocks the king off his throne.
(And what a feat it will be, it will remind them what it feels like to be worth something.)
Green recites all the tactics he’s seen the Champion play – he’s been coming back to the mountain for five years, he knows many things – but it’s never enough. He doesn’t understand why he keeps returning to the same heartbreak, and his voice breaks when he counts all the times he’s lost to the boy with the red cap. Kris takes his hand along with Gold’s, and reminds them about feeling on the top of the world – the honey of applause and the warmth of recognition. Her face is as blue as her hair, so Gold enfolds his hands around her to lend her heat.
Today, it is her turn again. She hoists her up her pack and tries to smile at the two boys as they dust the snow off her legs and hair.
“… Today, I’ll show you,” she prays, voice taunt and eyes blinking away the frost.
Then, she steps out of the cavern and into the core of the blizzard.
44. Romantic Fever Pitch
Buck/Marley, for Anon
romance
“I thought you said you were taking me to a place with a strong pokémon?” he asked.
Marley spared him an apologetic glance, not bothering to reply as she turned to return to Victory Road. The boy stuck to her heels, breath misting the air. “So it’s not here now?” he asked. His ability to speak the words she did not still amazed her even after having spent so long with him. But it was a welcome talent – most of the time, she did not feel like talking. Marley nodded her head, tightening the white scarf that coiled around her neck.
“We’d better come back when it’s spring then! I’m not going to take ‘no’ for an answer,” he informed her as they travelled down the rocky steps that lined the interior of the mountain. She wanted to agree, but ended up sneezing instead.
“You cold?” Buck asked, concern seeding in his eyes.
She did not like the look he gave her, it was too close, too friendly – too familiar – it made her lose sense over her heart and her thoughts. (But she did not dislike it either, and this uncontrollable feeling writhed in her chest.) And when the boy reached out to touch her fingers, her hand latched itself to her elbow.
“My fingers are cold, you don’t need to check,” she told him quietly.
“I-I wasn’t checking! And I don’t care if they are cold!” he retorted, struggling to maintain the level in his voice.
Marley loosened the fingers cupping her elbow when she heard him, lowering her eyes as she placed her hand in his waiting palm. “What are you doing, then?” she questioned him, voice barely audible. For some implicit reason, Buck was unable to look at her as he said: “You’re cold, right? And I’m a man, so I have to keep you warm until we get back to the Pokécentre, got that?”
The girl didn’t think his hand helped her that much – if anything, it was as cold as hers.
But she thought she could see the outline of his good intentions, plastered on the anxious look on his face. She thanked him for being admirable, and he grew quite red despite the low temperature.
45. Rocks on the Windowpanes
Falkner/Janine, for Anon
romance
She is surprised to see him walking towards her, instead of swooping down upon the wings of his aviators. He likes that she’s wearing more than the usual fishnets and skirts with distracting slits. It’s a period of awkward gasps and little ‘hello’s that spout from the bottom of their throats once they make contact – it’s different now, without the birds on his belt and the toxic darts tucked inside her shirt. They do not carry the title of gym leader now, and a father’s wise proverb does not hang overhead; it is only him, her, and a landscape of silence.
When she had whispered to him, telling them that the routes fringing Fuchsia would be perfect for an evening walk, she had not been lying.
They waltz down the winter paths – no, no, not with her hand on his shoulder and his fingers light on her waist – moving in perfect timing with one another, swaying to the breeze. The moon is enough of a street lamp, she can see his mouth move when he talks to her, and she hopes he can’t see how big her smile gets, it’s embarrassing. When she tucks her hands under her arms, she realizes she’s forgotten to wear gloves. The young lady doesn’t voice it though, it is not terribly cold, she has been trained in conditions harsher than this. But when he catches her rubbing her fists together, he holds out his hand.
He’s polite – cultured to be proper and patient, that it is almost a dream. She doesn’t speak as she rests her hand in his, and he slots both their hands into the pocket of his jacket. He takes the liberty to lace their fingers, and while the blood rushes to her cheeks, she can't find it in herself to mind
46. Happy Synthesizer
Morty/Whitney, for heylala
romance
Morty gave her a present for Christmas.
It was a scarf knitted from the finest shade of magenta. It sank like silk in her hands and could wrap warmth with one simple fold – but Whitney was far from happy when she received it.
The girl scrambled on the spot, the value of the pink scarf weighing her hands down. The fact that Morty had braved the cold weather and travelled all the way to the doorstep of her gym did not make her feel any better. The taller male regarded her with an odd expression as all her gym trainers clustered behind the corner and alternated between gossip and giggle.
“Thank you so much,” she chirped, her voice squeezing itself out of her throat.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled. No playfully serious jab of ‘now, where’s my present’ or humiliating questions like ‘you forgot to get me something, didn’t you’, not even a flicker of disappointment on his kind face. He was genuine and earnest in simply delivering the gift.
Whitney’s heart grew ten times that moment – maybe it was the colour of his misty eyes, or the snow in his hair – whatever the effect was, she threw her arms around him and pecked his cheek.
Morty’s testimony to Eusine stated that it was the best Christmas present ever.
47. Margarita
Will/Karen, for crazypackersfan
horror
Karen was an acquired taste.
She laughed at the most gruesome scenes in a horror movie, smiled when blood splattered across the screen and shed sentimental tears when the slasher was killed. In her closet, she hanged a multitude of black dresses and spiked boots, save for the golden shirt and white pants Lance ordered her to wear on the job.
She derived immeasurable joy from killing insects and peeling scabs off her skin – and once, she showed him her arsenal of voodoo dolls. He cringed when he found the one with a purple mop of hair and a mask.
“Ah, I don’t use him much,” Karen calmed him, before positioning a hand on his arm and pinching the skin just there.
48. French 75
Green/Leaf, for 30tells
romance
“I don’t blame you, I’m hard to forget,” he laughs for an extended amount of time, proving that he’s probably insane too. “You are too, just – not as much as me.” He sways from left to right, hands on his hips.
“Stop kissing up to yourself and just kiss me,” the girl sighs.
He listens to her, for once.
49. Paperback Promises
Jun/Hikari, for 30tells
AU, humour, romance (slight)
He cycles down the uneven pavements, through the narrow walkways of the streethouses – ringing the bell of his bike in synchrony with the sun’s rising, waking everyone from their sleep. He hollers ‘good morning’ as he throws the Times, waves to the people who are out for a morning jog and stops to help the fruit stall owner set up shop.
He’s known to race down the addresses with at an astounding speed, locomotive feet pedaling nonstop. Hikari only glimpses him when she wakes up five minutes earlier than usual – and when she says ‘glimpse’, she says it in the most literal sense of the word. He flies by below her bedroom window, a blur of blond hair and grassy green scarf. If she sleeps in, and he cycles by to find her window closed – he yells out and tosses rocks until she’s risen from her bed.
Half the time, she’s happy she has a childhood friend as reliable as that. The other half has her throwing a pillow out the window in a vague attempt to silence him.
Jun doesn’t seem to mind it either way – he always returns her morning groan with a bright smile.

50. untitled / anjo
general
She perches on the branch of the tree, staring down at the rushing water. Her dark ink hair is tangled with twigs and leaves, her peach lips parted. It’s autumn, but all she has on is a translucent white sundress. It gathers at her hips when she bends on the branch and surveys the river with increasing consideration.
Her eyes are clear black, striking against the paleness of her skin. She isn’t beautiful or anything, not with that button nose – he’s got relatively high standards – so she’s about a six, maybe seven.
He can’t help but be worried; it isn’t safe so near the river.
“What’re you doing?” he shouts over.
“Crossing the river,” she says, though her eyes don’t meet with his.
“The bridge is just down the road,” he tells her.The girl finally raises her gaze; she looks at him and smiles wistfully.
“Not this river.”
Then, she jumps.★ Due to the multitude of fandoms and drabbles, I don't think I will be crossing posting most of these drabbles. As such, if anyone is keen, they can use this banner to link their flists to this post, so that I can share my drabbles with more people. This is completely optional, of course!
★big thank you
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★thank you + love to all the writers I know, who really help me along and give me inspiration
★and thank you + immense love & appreciation, reader, for the time you were willing to spend with these short stories
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I find the horror ones to be rather amusing, hee. They have an interesting charm to them.
The Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt one is freaking gorgeous, and I love how you describe Panty's characteristics and how Brief sees her.
And the genre doesn't matter, really - you still pulled off their interaction in a lovely way. Thank you!
I love the humour you put in them. Last line of the Soul/Maka one is genius.
Crona's thoughts are laid out in a way that is intriguing to read.
The last SE one is so derp and cute <- idk what is a more fitting way to describe it
they all make one feel really nice and warm inside. That sort of feeling, when a smile just makes its way on a face.
The final piece is elegant - message is put across in a simple manner.
much love to you too, for being so kind as to give some others gifts in the form of writing. it's really sweet.
pretty banners.
you have really nice friends! everyone is happy and helpful - happiness for everyone involved.
no idea what else to say that would make this look like repetitive babbling, so yep - merry belated Christmas and a happy new year!
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Oh, and also the Panty/Brief one because it's one of my favourites out of the whole batch too (: Also, Harvar and Jacqueline are absolutely adorable together, Ox and Kim too. And it's great to hear positive feedback about an original piece, thanks a lot!
I really appreciate you leaving such a sweet comment! A Happy New Year to you too :D
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have i told you how much i love you?
i loveeeeeeeee you.
your writing is just so damn beautiful. i love your description, your choice of words, your - hdjdsfggdaahkdsk.
i'm gonna read all of these when i have more time.
but for now - thank you so much for writing that - that - that drabble about ryoji/mshe. .////. i'm so, so happy to read it, especially if it was written by you. you just know how to make a story looks so beautiful with just a few words. &hearts
again, thank you so much! and happy new year! \o/
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Thanks so much and Happy New Year :D
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Princesses story - I've always considered Cinderella to be the most beautiful, which makes it kind of funny that you consider her the most plain. Very funny story!
Will/Karen story - Perfect description of Karen. That's the way I like to think of her.
Cynthia/Sabrina story - This one leaves so much mystery to me. My guess at what happened: Sabrina kissed Lucian, but Cynthia found out and decided to torture Sabrina? Awesome description of Sabrina's torture. I would have liked to see more of Cynthia's demands of Sabrina, but excellent nonetheless.
Thanks again!
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Actually, I like Cinderella a lot too, but I couldn't find an obvious flaw about her, so she got dubbed the 'plainest'. Yeah, apart from that, it was a good challenge to write your prompts, thank you!
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The Panty and Brief one was wonderful, and the end was so heartbreaking. ;---; You wrote those characters so well. dbasfdhf ♥
And the Soul/Maka one was adorable! It must be painful sometimes living under the same roof with that sort of connection. Haha. I'm definitely going to mem these drabbles!
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Panty and Brief, I ship them so hard I don't even.
Thank you *A*
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Excuse me while I fangirl ;_;
Tsuna/Enma: ohmygoddddddddd. this one is so <3 everythings so crazy in the manga now, i miss the awkward sort-of-friendship moments with tsuna and enma. the last few lines sdpgjsdg, GDI AMANO.
Sora/Naminé: Ow, last line. Sora why you do this. And that's an interesting headcanon. I'm way more pessimistic in my view for some reason since Axel hinted that Roxas would eventually 'go to sleep' inside Sora and he's not actually in there consciously being happily ever after with Namine somehow rofl. Regardless, Roxas and Namine are such tragic characters and I want them back out :'C
Harry/Draco: Ehehehee. For some reason, this is my favourite one omg LOL. Oh Hermione, I FEEL YOU. You certainly delivered 'boys being boys' HAHA. Ron is a bamf here, I like it. It wasn't that OOC to me, he has his moments in canon XD Harry and Draco are adorbs, DRACO JUST WANTED TO BE YOUR FRIEND HARRY but you rejected him so that's what you get. Mhm.
Silver/Blue: /dying from cuteness. seriously, so cute. i love blue, she's such a troll. give in, silver~~ and yay for silver growing taller than blue HAHA. /still flailing from cuteness
I also read a lot of the others one and fangirled them too ;_; Like the RiKai ♥ The JunHika one was so adorable too. And just- omg stop being so amazing. skgodpg. ♥
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You overwhelm me, you really do :D And I have to agree with you about TsunaEnma, it was so beautiful and plausibly gay ;___; And your KH headcanon is so depressing, but very cool *A*
Glad I could pull off boys being boys, eh it was really fun to write as well, thanks for the cool prompt (: AND GOODNESS, I AM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE THE SILVER/BLUE DRABBLE FFFF I've never written them in a romantic way before so I was feeling awkward and unsure, lol.
RIKUKAIRI - not totally soulmates - but pretty damn wonderful together haha.
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And I tried to illustrate that terrible Pokespe fanfic, but it got kind of weird and unfunny for me, which is sad because I know you wanted a comic of it. Waaaaah. I really wanted to draw something for you and my flist.
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Ah well, you can always show us when you're more comfortable with it! I can be patient :D
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*brb, dying from joy overdose*
Favorites:D [this is the part where I spam you]
33. - Bill being a total nerd is win. SO IS GREEN IN AN APRON LOL.
35. - AgathaxSamuel is like guriburu from a different life time or something, is Agatha's supposed twin Bertha? if it is,(headcanon:) I totally see prof.Oak trying to kiss Agatha but got Bertha instead haha
37. - I like how you wrote this scene, this mental picture in my head is heart warming(how do you do that?)though I accidentally just see it as a brother-sister thing(i think it's just me though)
41. - Frontier fics are always a treat
42. - I...I think I ship this sabrina/lucian/cynthia now. Just the two of them clashing is like WHOAH
44. - Characterization is spot on! and gentlemen are always a plus
48. French 75 - hgsdrkjgfsk! I love it! Green still being an arrogant ass while drunk is hilarious and much love for compacting their relationship in just a few paragraphs :)
49. Paperback Promises - AHHH! <3 adorable.I just...adorable. You make them so dynamic, they're impossible to not love. Pillow out the window was a nice detail
THANKYOUSOMUCH FOR THE READ!! Happy New year!
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Happy New Year, and thank you again for the wonderful drawings (:
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I really loved the Oak!drabble it was perfect and exactly what I wanted, even if they weren't having dinner.
Green wearing a Charmander-apron ♥♥ and that last question aaah.
Looking forward to reading all drabbles, I'm sure they'll be fantastic too!
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Green in an apron is wonderful haha.
Oh you!
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