Oct 16, 2020
you tightened your grip on his arm as he continuously laps your—
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you tightened your grip on his arm as he continuously laps your—
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Hi! Did u take down the ushijima x reader fic «needy»? Bc its says post not found when i use the link in the masterlist❤️
i diiiiiiiid 🙊 with the intention of uploading to AO3, but i haven’t gotten around to it yet 🤪 soon! i promise!! 💖💖💖💖
Beetje vuile spiegel 🤭
i have a hard time listening to music and writing cuz then I get so into the music im singing and dancing and what reply was I supposed to do again ??
OH SHIT RIGHT ITS CRITROLE NIGHT
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“You look really pale. Sit down. I don’t need you fainting before I get this stitched-up.” | uwu
there’s a whole-ass robot under there y’know | accepting
“C-Cora… I– I look p-pale… ALL THE TIME.”
Maybe that was his way of trying to LIGHTEN THE MOOD. He’d ended up with a LARGE GASH in upper arm while he’d been attempting to fix Foxy; the animatronic’s limbs liked to THRASH uncontrollably (nothing that Ryan could help, it was just the state of the poor old robot,) and Colton had just so happened to have been in the way of the pirate’s hook. You just weren’t FAST ENOUGH THIS TIME, Colton–
Thankfully, though, Cora had come to work with him that night, the two of them now sitting in the Parts & Service room, where one of the few first aid kits on site was stored. Despite his JOKE, he didn’t fight her request, sitting down on one of the tables in the middle of the room, taking off his shirt so that she could better get at his arm. (He knew the DRILL–)
“I-Is… is it really that BAD?”
Little did Colton know that if Cora were to suddenly feel the need to POKE AND PROD at his injury, she would begin to find WIRES AND METAL buried just underneath that pale, fleshy exterior. OOPSIE–
this grilled cheese is 90% cheese.
ohohoh three sentence fic thing. You & me (platonic pairings ftw) and, uh... fuck. bounty hunters. LET'S BE BOUNTY HUNTERS, BUGGY DARLING.
(YEEEEEEE-okay but I’ve literally never played it before so um expect the unexpected ///////hides)
“Wait, what’s Bounty Hunters?” the insectoid said, eyeing the ghost with inquisitive beady eyes.
“Well, it’s about a bounty-”
A mysterious force cut off the female phantom, not wanting the narrator to butcher the prompt more than she already had been.