.⚓️🌊݁ ˖ banner from @/cafekitsune , intimate acts between you and your lover , short drabbles , possible ooc-ness , grammar and spelling warning
Astro Novalite finds his time best well spent draped underneath the softest covers of Gardenview’s most exquisite beds. As a main, the silk sheets and fuzzy blankets are of exceptional quality for the sleepy toon. Wrapped in his usual blanket—worn down from its constant use—the moon is quick to pass out the moment his head hits the cushion. [or any relatively soft material for that matter.]
Except this time, the celestial toon’s not alone, as you’ve come to join him for a nap underneath the glowing white stars painted on the ceiling of his bedroom. The satin pillows and fluffy comforter only aid in your growing exhaustion; and for once, you fall asleep before him, head in his lap as he twists and twirls a piece of your clothing, fur, and so on in his gentle hands, careful to not disturb you.
There’s no attempt at fighting the ache in his body, that he knows. Astro will see you again—when his eyes close once more and he finds himself front ‘n center in your oh so illusive dreams.
There’s something so calming about passing time with pressed flowers and herbal tea, the two of you sitting shoulder to shoulder as Bassie meticulously points out each flower and its own meaning. Some stand for sorrow, others for jealousy. A few meant for the dead, and about a thousand for love, all in different colors too!
You have a sketchbook made and ready for times like this; its meticulously decorated with all kinds of different patterns, pastel colors fit for the spring time, and your name carefully written out on the front cover done by Bassie herself. When the visitors have all gone home for the day—tired, but with content smiles on their faces—the hand-woven basket pulls out yours, and then her own.
The next few hours are calm, relaxing, and uneventful besides the light puttering of rain outside and the snipping coming from you and Bassie’s scissors. Intricate shapes splayed out onto the paper act as a background for the bouquet of flowers you’ve chosen to press today. From red carnations to pink hydrangeas, anyone knowledgeable enough in the flower department can put together what you two are trying to say.
It's become a habit to prepare yourself for random, unmarked presents to land somewhere in the general vicinity of your bedroom. Not that a signature has ever been needed--you've always been able to tell when something has been gifted by her. Bobette's presents have always been decorated in over-the-top sparkly wrapping paper and a pristine bow just begging to be unraveled.
Hidden inside, tucked between the mountain-load of tissue paper and fluffy stuffing Bobette argues resembles the snow, you can find a wide array of items. A few hand crafted pieces of jewelry she stated would look good on you, one or two books you had let slip you'd been wanting to read, and a cheap Polaroid camera you have no idea where she got her hands on. All are always guaranteed to come with a handwritten letter from your lover, detailing the reasoning behind said gift and other little tidbits of information.
This time, your girlfriend has presented you with a festive snow globe. Definitely a bit early for the Christmas decorations, but there's nothing like Christmas in August when it comes to Bobette. Inside displays what's likely two lovers strolling through a winter wonderland, hand in hand. The letter depicts a longing to do this with you someday with maybe a pair of mistletoe to match.
You'll make sure to shower her in kisses the next time you see her, Christmas floral be damned.
Dandy’s touch has always been light; no, not the blinding kind caused by a star meant to outshine all the rest, but the kind that’s gentle to the touch, smooth across your sore and achey hands.
Dandy’s touch is never overbearing, just one full of love and attentiveness. It’s the kind that, on its own, traces words of adoration and praise into your skin without a single word spoken.
Dandy’s touch is a voice of communication when words can’t do himself justice. It’s the kind that radiates exactly what he’s feeling at that very moment, no matter how hard he may try to conceal it. Fraud smiles that never reach his eyes, or a wrinkle in between his eyebrows that barely gives himself away.
It’s a language you have every right to study and absolutely none to truly learn, but for Dandy, you try anyways.
And that’s all that matters.
Shelly always starts off your day with gentle, but reinforcing blurbs of affirmations. Sweet reminders that you're worth more than the oldest fossils on Earth and that she wouldn't give you up even to traverse the most prehistoric lands. Why abandon such a dream when she can just explore it with you instead? You, of course, return such a favor by whispering kind words of adoration into her shell. She'll pretend her cheeks aren't flushed, waving you away with shaky hands and hushed remarks. "dawwww darling! you're too sweet!"
Shelly cheers you on as if her words were always the truth and nothing more--which, in itself, is a bit of a double edged sword. Her own thoughts get to her, and she carries herself too well to allow herself to come to you without feeling shameful and weak. Your relentless comfort is always the medicine she needs though, and she promises to let herself breathe next time.
Truth is, no one's ever there to uplift Shelly the same way you always make sure you do. She hardly receives such praise and comfort from her fellow peers, so to receive it from her one and only? Shelly cherishes your words more than you'll ever realize.
Cosmo loves you, truly. You’ve brought his bestest friend so much love and joy, and who is he to take such a miraculous thing away? But he swears—once more and then never again—that if Sprout forgets to turn off the oven again because that stupid, lovable strawberry is stuck trying to impress you, Cosmo will personally carry you back to your to your bedroom himself. Cosmo can only worry so much over his best friend, over the freaking kitchen, until he snaps.
Sprout is big on quality time with you. Doesn’t matter what the two of you find yourself doing. You can be chatty and conversational while strolling around Gardenviews lobby—debating if Connie is finally going to make a move on Brightney or not—or quiet whilst you lay your head in Sprouts lap, his fingers tracing small shapes into your flesh as if made to hold such carvings. Whatever you do, you do with him, and vice versa.
So that’s how you found your way back in your room, the smell of smoke still clinging to your clothing for the day. You can hear Cosmo mutter something under his breath as he closes the door behind him, most likely heading back to the kitchen to clean up the mess.
You’re gonna have to make it up to him later, and comfort Sprout after Cosmo scolds him to death.
Words and diction never correctly worked together unless relentlessly practiced and perfected off screen. You know this only because you’ve caught the tail end of Vee’s anger in the next room over: something among the lines of “why won’t this come out like how the script has it?!” or in keeping with.
A simple act of service—whether performed out of the kindness of her cold, metallic heart, or just because she thought you needed it—is much simpler than continuous planning; not that she wouldn’t go through the hassle for you, that is. A gentle reminder that you’re not here to deal with everything on your own. A reminder that she’d be more than willing to share a bit of your burden with her.
Need her to trouble shoot something with you? She’s on her way over. Need her to grab something from the dark, scary Staff room, draped in shadows and cobwebs you’d rather not step foot into? She’s already turning on her personal flashlight. You desperately wish to kiss the smooth, silicone oxide of her screen till she’s blowing steam from her ventilators and send her cooling system into over-time? Vee…she can fit that sometime into her plans—oh wait, no, you want it now?!? Well, I’m sure Brightney won’t mind her tardiness, right?
