#setsunaid

PROMPTS FOR PLAYFUL AFFECTION

Bonk.

When the Hashira suddenly collapsed against his side, Inosuke remained frozen in stupor. He even dropped the onigiri he was about to devour, eyes glancing to the side as best as he could through the boar mask.

Was she... dead?

Panic pumped in his veins as he reached up to check her neck for a pulse, only to watch her collapse some more across his lap instead, face turned towards the skies. This time, for sure, she had to be dead! Or she wouldn't so suddenly fall limp like that!

"O-oi!! Stay with me, watermelon head! You can't die now! There's still food!" He knew how much she loved her food. Surely, the prospect of a good meal would bring her back!

"I'll even give you my onigiri! So don't die!! We still got so many demons to kill together!"

He gathered his courage and gave her cheek a little tap, just in case. How odd... she was still so warm. And why were her lips trembling...?

Strong hands cupped each side of her face, his back arching until his snout was inches from her visage.

"Hey! You're always working out here, right?" Natsuo stops after exiting the front door of the complex, carrying a tray with bottles of water, a few cans of soda, and some individually wrapped snacks.

TRANSMISSION FROM @setsunaid : “are you.. sure this is okay?” //from eri !! ahhhh omg hi imy !!!!! TRANSMISSION ENDED / ANGST PROMPTS III , ACCEPTING .

katsuki glances down to eri as he ushers her downstairs in the u.a. dorm, from his room all the way to the kitchen. he's tired - of course he is, his sleep was poor and he didn't have enough of it - but she came by his room and asked for him specifically. so, like any decent person does at an odd hour of the morning with an aching arm, he's brought her down to make her something to eat.

she worries, though. she expresses it when she asks her question, and katsuki only hesitates briefly while he digs out ingredients for a pancake batter. kids liked sweet shit, right ? [ and nobody was around to tell her no. ] his brows furrow as he paces back over, slower. ❛ 'course it's fine, unicorn. ❜

it's odd, the list of exceptions he'll make for her but not for others / he'll make breakfast for her but leave his friends to make their own, lest they grow dependent on his skill. he'll let her wake him up at whatever hour of the day but blow up his friends for trying the same thing. he'll begrudgingly accept whatever task from aizawa he gets that involves her, mostly because that sad kicked puppy stare pisses him off and he doesn't like having to deal with the aftermath.

he's come to accept it. it doesn't bother him so much as it did at first, evident in the way katsuki puts together the pancake batter, rations out exact amounts.

Visions of hot, savory oden flood your mind from the moment you woke up. So, naturally, you stumble into your pink parka—the one with white hearts on the pockets—and crawl out the door with sleep tugging at the corners of your tired eyes. It's not terribly noticeable; after all, you've become proficient at painting your face to bury the exhaustion.

It's not long before you're at the intersection between your dusty blue apartment and the ever-familiar 7-Eleven. It's a withering, dull winter morning that creeps ever so close to your bones. It's funny how the bite is so much worse when you know relief is coming any minute.

Had it not been for the chime of a bell, you'd probably already be filling your belly full of umami broth and buttery fishcakes. There's no doubt that Duck is sitting back home on the couch, loving nothing more than to nap to the singing of birds on the TV. She's becoming more and more like a grandmother these days. You didn't have the heart to deny her, even when she woke you up with nibbles and sandpaper kisses.

Instead, a bundle of satiny black fur bolts for your ankles. Your eyes widen, the twinkle in them like pin pricks, in a momentarily lapse of surprise. But you remember you'd stuffed your pockets full of catnip last week for that perfect picture of duck all bundled atop your parka. The realization coaxes that lopsided grin out of you because how adorable is that.

Then, finally, you notice the tumbling figure coming your way.

“kotoha,” he speaks with an oddly serious tone — he’d been shut away for a long time, talking to someone. had she worried for him? he hoped not — it would make things more complicated.

“someone found their bodies,” he lies to her, “your husband’s, and your in-laws.”

a pause.

It's rare, to see such a pretty garden in this part of town. Toga was trying to lay low, really, she was - that's why she was in such a run-down area in the first place, heroes were less likely to be on patrol here, and she knew she shouldn't just be wandering into every interesting place she sees... But hiding all the time was so boring! She could enjoy the flowers for just a little bit, right?

She crouches down to look closer at some of the blooms, before reaching out and plucking a flower from the leaves. One by one, pale fingers tear the petals, letting them fall to the concrete - "Loves me, loves me not... Loves me, loves me not..." She used to do this all the time as a child, until her parents scolded her for destroying such pretty flowers. She didn't get it, really - the petals looked just as nice when they were scattered on the ground.

@setsunaid

It's hard to hold back when the night becomes so sweet and so tantalizing. Ray is a diligent one, he learns fast and he's so eager to please that it makes him partially intimidating if others would know just how far he's willing to go. The way he looks at her is akin to worship, eyes gleaming with such devotion she's feeling the air get stuck in her lungs but it's such a gaze she cannot erase from her mind. Saeran, Su-Jin, Ray... They look at her with love, with loyalty, with adoration. He should be treasured, gently handled and that's why she tries her best to hold back the urges that beg to ride that pretty mouth of his. He won't handle it, not yet, there is still reason in the back of her mind that calls for her carefulness, her caution.