#stylouko

[delinquentdiamond-blog]

❤ mayhaps

Send ❤ for a non-specific kiss…

In the short time he’s been acquainted with this young woman, this self-deprecating girl, Mondo hasn’t known what to do with her. He wishes he did frequently, because there’s a demand to help her underneath his skin, a kneejerk snarl that she deserves better than she allows built into his bones. She isn’t the beast he is, after all, and that argument remains on his tongue even when he remembers Genocider Syo.

He always fumbles his arguments, however, and she always bites back with a smarter, sharper tongue--or so it seems. It doesn’t stop him from trying, though, and it’s impulse that leads him in this particular moment. His hand finds the top of her head, mussing her hair before it slips aside and he leans down to press his lips to the top of her head.

❝Stop tellin’ yourself shit every time you look in a mirror.❞ He needs to squeeze his eyes shut in that moment, so he can concentrate and keep his voice steady. It wouldn’t do if the volume started to rise right now, no matter how flustered his own actions were making him or how hot his face might be burning. ❝An’ stop tellin’ yourself the love story you want is somethin’ shitty an’ abusive with that fuckin’ heir.❞

[einwish]

@stylouko:

A pen drops on the ground, narrowly missing his eye as Kyuubey made his trek beneath the café tables. A stroke of bad luck, or an opportunity?

He knew too intimately of Fate to miss this chance. With a deft kick, the incubator launched the pen into the air and caught it in his mouth. A pair of stockings gave hints to its owner, and it wasn’t long before a casual leap had him prancing on the table.

There was a girl, in braids and spectacles (Madoka, stutters a voice and a memory), and Kyuubey makes a ceremony out of presenting his prize, nudging it forward with his nose.

§ You dropped this, § A simple statement, born out of a casual moment—like all the moments he shared with girls before.

§ ...do you like to write? §

[miraiplayer-blog]

Otome Game

{ @stylouko​ }

Plop. The gamer took a seat at a nearby bus stop. She was exhausted, not used to walking around for this long, especially with an actual physical body. She still had so many questions about how that even happened...

But this train of thought was immediately interrupted as she saw a familiar face enter her line of sight... She shouted out to the writer in surprise as she saw her begin to pass by.

“Fukawa-san...!”