the poll already ended, but here are the snippets anyway:
Luffy and Zoro meeting in college au
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“Did you know that ‘bugs’ is a common classification of a couple of different phyla and associated orders?” Luffy shoved a second burger in his mouth. “I weawy wihe da coweoptewa orer.”
Zoro moved on to the burger.
“Now that I have a friend in class, we can study together!” Luffy stood up, and Zoro realized that he’d already managed to finish his food. “What’s your number?”
Zoro gave him an odd look. “I’m not your friend– you don’t even know my name!”
Luffy shrugged. “What’s your name?”
“Roronoa Zoro.” Zoro answered automatically, then immediately cursed himself. “Sitting next to each other in class once doesn’t make us friends.”
“We sat next to each other twice!” Luffy argued. “We’re friends now!”
Zoro scowled. “We’re not friends.”
A phone was shoved in front of his face. “Put your number in!”
Abruptly, Zoro stood up. He wasn’t done eating yet, but he was certainly done with the conversation. Besides, he could just come back to the dining hall later.
Hopefully, Luffy would be gone by dinnertime.
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5+1 Zolu wedding fic
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He stood awkwardly at the altar, looking around at the guests that had been assembled. It was an odd combination of royalty, pirates, and a couple of marines, but he supposed that it was to be expected–
Suddenly, his gaze narrowed in on one empty seat, right at the front.
Where the hell is Luffy’s grandpa?
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Whitebeard kidnapping au
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“I’m going to sleep.” Zoro walked to the other side of the boat and jumped down into the dinghy, moving the barrel of apples before he lay down.
“You really don’t care that the Whitebeard Pirates are chasing him?!” Nami asked Zoro, hands crossed over her chest. “Come on, Whitebeard is one of the most infamous pirates ever! If I were you, I’d be rethinking my decision to join his crew!”
Zoro shrugged and closed his eyes.
Nami rolled her eyes. “Don’t blame me when you get killed.”
“I won’t.” Zoro shifted slightly where he was laying down, then began snoring lightly.
“Seriously?! The Whitebeard Pirates are still looking for you guys and you’re sleeping?!”
Zoro continued snoring.
“Unbelievable.” Nami looked into the horizon, straining her eyes. “I don’t see any ships following us.”
“Pops?” Nami asked. “Luffy, do you know Whitebeard? Like, the actual Whitebeard?!”
“Yeah.” Luffy shrugged. “Nami, can you take watch? I’m tired.”
“How do you know Whitebeard?!”
“I told you, he says he’s my dad.” Luffy climbed back down into the dinghy he and Zoro shared, dropping down right on top of the swordsman. “Night!”
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Zolu getting together in college au
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Zoro stood up and put his swords away, knowing that Luffy would eventually walk over and drop himself in Zoro’s lap, swords be damned. As he walked back from his room, he grabbed a glass of water and went to sit down next to Luffy.
The TV was playing something-or-another but Zoro didn’t pay attention. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, willing his heart to slow down as he felt Luffy’s gaze on him.
“Zo-ro!” Luffy whined again, and Zoro finally obliged him, looking at him as the TV played in the background. “I want to kiss you!”
The cutest boy I ever TOUCHED.was sitting on the grass inhaling a Phillies BLUNT. He was so cool .that boy was so DOPE. Watching his movements,I just couldn't COPE. The sun shone down as I blink my EYES. Will do anything to prove my player status existence.Throw down all TIES. Simultaneously he began acoustically strumming ' Lucy In The SKY.. With Diamonds.. being labeled a girl's best FRIEND..The boy proved that theory wrong when He promised me I would forever be his all. Till the END
this is my piece for #32! the prompt was sharing umbrellas/winter/picnics/weddings and i chose the theme of picnic. i hope they’ll enjoy it! here’s a link on ao3, if you’d prefer reading it there.
One of the few good things that Shuichi had noticed over the course of his (involuntary) stay here at the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles was the fact that the weather had been consistently fair and good, with no hint of overcast skies.
It was never too hot or too cold, and the temperature had always been at a level where you could comfortably be outside for long periods of time without bundling up. Of course, he’d only been here for less than a week so it wasn’t actually for certain that the weather never became poor in whatever region this school was at.
Still, for all of the days that he had been here, the sun had continued to shine brightly without fail. If you just could ignore the giant cage surrounding the school that trapped them all in, along with the fact that all of the sixteen high-schoolers currently on the school grounds at the moment were victims of abduction brought here against their will, their stay could have almost been somewhat nice.
Then again, considering that they had been kidnapped with the initial intention to force them into a killing game before Monokuma changed its mind, Shuichi supposed that he probably should’ve consider their stay here much better than expected. Instead of murdering each other, all they needed to do was romance each other.
He stared up at the sky from his spot on the grass in the courtyard, idly watching a white wisp of cloud slowly crawl its way across the heavens, and wondered just when his life became so goddamn weird.
Shuichi blamed the bears.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of movement and struggled to curb an instinctive flinch. A head plopped down in his lap, putting a stop to his thoughts and drawing his attention.
“Saihara-chan, you’re so mean!” Ouma whined with a pout, tears brimming in his eyes. “You invite me out on a date but then spend all your time staring up at the sky and brooding instead! You certainly know how to make a guy feel bad about himself. Am I really that boring?”
After spending the past few days trying to learn more about Ouma, Shuichi knew for certain that the tears in Ouma’s weren’t genuine. Ouma was dramatic and flippant, but he wasn’t the type that would show any sign if he was actually feeling distressed.
Shuichi still felt a heavy sense of guilt in the pits of his stomach at the sight of them, fake or not, anyway though.
“Sorry, Ouma-kun,” he said as he resisted the urge to squirm. He didn’t want to deal with Ouma’s fake sobbing if Shuichi accidentally pushed him off. “I was just lost in thought for a moment. But, um, you were the one to invite me out, you know?”
“Details, details!” Ouma shrugged and rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re totally ignoring me and the nice lunch that Toujou-chan picked for our little picnic date, you know? How could you snub her like that? She put so much effort into it too...”
“T-that wasn’t my intention at all, Ouma-kun! You know that! I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
Ouma, as he usually did, completely ignored any of his protests, and only shook his head with a disappointed sigh instead. “I can’t believe you, Saihara-chan. You aren’t the man I thought you were when we first met. You’re far from the man I fell for!”
Shuichi choked at that last line, accidentally triggering a loud, violent coughing fit. Ouma watched him with mournful eyes, still continuing on with his ridiculous act and raising his voice so he could speak over Shuichi’s hacking.
“I even had her make your favorites, you know. Even though I didn’t actually know any of them and told her to pack whatever. It’s the effort that counts, right? And here you are, not even bothering to even accept her kindness…”
“Ouma-kun,” Shuichi said as soon as the coughing had stopped, rubbing at his throat with a grimace. “Please just hand me a sandwich.”
Ouma smiled brightly and reached into the picnic basket at his side to pull out a ham and cheese sandwich. “Sure, sure. Here you go, Saihara-chan. Open wide!”
He raised the sandwich to Shuichi’s mouth. Shuichi gave him a strange look and attempted to take it himself, but Ouma refused to release his grip. He continued to smile.
“...I can feed myself, Ouma-kun,” he began, somewhat uneasily. “You can let go now. I really don’t need to be fed.” Especially by you, he intentionally kept to himself.
“But, Saihara-chan! You just choked on air. Are you sure you can handle eating by yourself? I’m CPR-certified and all, but still...” Ouma made a worried face, worrying his lip between his teeth.
Shuichi kind of wanted to punch him. He was probably spending too much time with Momota.
“Yes, I am completely sure that I can eat by myself,” he said instead. Ouma continued to keep that expression as he carefully watched Shuichi take a bite, a little more aggressively than needed, of the sandwich.
Then, after Shuichi finished chewing and swallowing, he opened his mouth wide and said, “My turn!”
Shuichi stared at him blankly. “Um. I’m sorry, what?”
Ouma didn’t verbally respond at first, still keeping his mouth open, and only gestured towards Shuichi’s sandwich. “You took a bite already so it’s my turn now,” he repeated, sounding annoyed. “I’m still injured, remember?”
Shucihi rose an eyebrow. “You’ve got two hands, Ouma-kun,” he pointed out. “Didn’t you just try to feed me?”
Ouma gave him a serious look. “I don’t have any recollection of that,” he said, before he rose his injured hand, the one that Shuichi had clumsily bandaged the other day. “Come on, Saihara-chan. I’m hungry.”
At that moment, Shuichi began to consider his options.
He could tell Ouma no, that he didn’t want to feed him, and then deal with Ouma’s pouting and whining. He could take out another sandwich from the basket for Ouma with his free hand and feed him with that. He could push Ouma off of his lap and walk away.
Or, they could just share the sandwich Shuichi had just taken a bite out of like Ouma was currently requesting they do. It was a little weird to be sharing food with someone else like that, especially with someone he wasn’t actually involved with, but...
I stole your heart, so I’m satisfied now, Ouma had said then. This is a date, Ouma had somewhat jokingly insisted later on. It really made a guy wonder about his intentions, didn’t it.
They definitely needed to actually discuss it later on, after they finished eating. Shuichi sighed before he brought his sandwich down to Ouma’s lips. For a split second, Ouma actually looked legitimately surprised.
“Chew carefully. It’s easier to choke when you’re eating while lying down.”
“Is that really something you should be saying to me, Saihara-chan?” Ouma said and laughed loudly. It was a happy one for once. No harsh mockery or derision in it or any intention to annoy. “I’m not the person who choked less than ten minutes ago on my own spit!”
“I don’t have any recollection of that,” Shuichi parroted, in the same exact tone that Ouma had used on him earlier, and turned his head to hide his smile when Ouma let out another genuine laugh.
As Ouma took a large bite out of the sandwich and made disgustingly loud chewing noises, Shuichi came to the conclusion that maybe everything would be fine. Finding out that he had been kidnapped was frightening and nerve-wracking, and learning that they wanted him to take part in a reality dating show was just plain ridiculous but…
He had met the others here. He had met Ouma here. That was good enough.
I love so much more than I'll ever EVER get back. My heart is set on default as it beats for the beautiful eyes looking back at me. Beautiful but complicated and glosses over because behind them are visions and a future without me in it. A visual scenario plays out behind those eyes...as I am pleading for reciprocated love. A scenic view where the grass is so much greener than the weed drenched thirsty lawn I currently strive to call our home.
I was a summer drought and he looked like rain,
I was a cold winter morning
and he stole the sun just to warm me up,
“I can feel the whole universe just by touching you,”
he used to always tell me,
it was his way of reminding me that I matter
and that he sees everything in me,
sleeping with him was like laying in the field,
at midnight, with smiling stars and curious leaves,
he could make my heart dance and my mind sing,
“You’re my moon and I’m your Saturn,”
he whispered me on that day of May,
“But Saturn has like 62 moons,’‘ my brain shouted,
his big brown eyes were looking at me,
surprised by my silence,
’'There are moons in your mind, gales in your chest,
sunsets in your eyes, meteor shower in your voice
and I take everything with me, I could never say goodbye to you.”
i finally posted something on ao3!!!! i post my fics rarely but this one brings me joy so i'm spreading that joy to everyone else now. it's zolu, it's something-like-pining-something-like-fluff, its got fireworks, what more could you want from a fic?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
title: been together since 2009
series: new danganronpa v3
summary: A conversation spent in bed between Shuichi and Kokichi.
notes: the first half is could be considered rated m but nothing actually happens. this can be read on ao3.
The lights in the room are off and the only source of illumination comes from the bright glow of the moon casting dark shadows that hang on the walls. Shuichi squints through the darkness, looking up at Kokichi’s face.
“Hey,” Kokichi says and smiles.
It’s a soft and tender thing that makes Shuichi think about warm honey sliding down his throat, bodies pressed together and hands interlocked in front of crackling fires inside fireplaces, and the mellow heat of early morning sun beams filtering in through the blinds of the window.
His heart clenches, overwhelmed with this warmth.
Kokichi’s kneeling above him, pinning him down on top of the mattress, and his hands slip under the hem of Shuichi’s shirt. They wrap around the curve of his hip and rub circles into the bone of his pelvis, gentle and slow.
This isn’t the first time that they’ve been together like this, but there’s something about the darkness enveloping them that makes it feel even more intimate than usual. In the utter silence of the room, the sound of the rustling sheets feels much too loud.
Shuichi takes in a quiet breath, resisting the urge to squirm. Those fingers drift lower, nudging at the waistband of his pants. He shifts and tries to get comfortable.
“Kokichi, your hands are cold .”
It’s not exactly a no though. Just a slight complaint. Kokichi kicks the blanket off of the bed and laughs loudly. It fills the room, bouncing off the walls.
“But you’ll warm me up, won’t you, Shuichi?” he coos, batting his eyelashes. “Since, you know. You love me and all, even with my cold hands.”
“You’re going to make me sincerely reconsider being in love with you,” Shuichi says, very dryly. Still, his hands reach for Kokichi’s anyway, curling over them. He wonders if they should turn the heating on.
His words draws out another fit of cackles from Kokichi, who ducks his head to bury it into the curve of Shuichi’s neck and shakes with repressed laughter.
“You’re much too late for that to save you, Shuichi. You should know by now that I’m never going to let you go no matter what.”
Shuichi shivers. Kokichi’s lips are pressed up against the spots where he knows Shuichi is the most sensitive. He tightens his grip on Kokichi’s hands.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not letting you go either.”
Kokichi’s lips twitch against his skin as a smile spreads across his face. “Good,” he says then. “We’re in consent. We’ll be together until the very bitter end, Shuichi. You’re stuck with me for good.”
“Well,” Shuichi mutters quietly, half to himself, “Ouma Shuichi doesn’t sound too bad.”
They’re both still young enough that moving into marriage now would probably be considered rushing things, but it’s something that Shuichi considers more often than he’d like to admit.
He thinks about it during the mornings where they wake up with tangled limbs and Kokichi has to drag him out of bed to force something more than a cup of coffee down his throat, and during the evenings where they go to bed curled up like a pair of parentheses, inching closer and closer during the night like they can’t bare to be apart.
Shuichi’s not sure about how Kokichi feels because it’s something they haven’t truly discussed in detail, but he knows himself and knows how he feels. He’s been fully committed to this relationship since the moment Kokichi set aside his lies and his masks to look him in the eye and tell Shuichi that he loved him.
This, right here, is what he wants. Despite everything, Kokichi is the one that he’s chosen.
Kokichi laughs again. It’s softer, genuine. “Maybe we could hyphenate. Ouma-Saihara Kokichi and Shuichi? Actually, nevermind. We’re not Americans, and that just sounds plain bad.”
“Ouma Shuichi it is then?”
Fingers slide into Shuichi’s pants and Kokichi presses a gentle kiss to his neck. His toes curl in anticipation, and Shuichi lets out a quiet breath.
“Yeah, Ouma Kokichi and Shuichi it is. God, I can’t wait to see the look on Momota-chan’s face when he yells out ‘Ouma,’ and you answer him.”
Shuichi’s face scrunches up. “Please don’t bring up Momota-kun while we’re in bed,” he grumbles. “I really don’t want to think about him right now while you have your hand down my pants.”
“But, Shuichi, what if I was into cuckolding?”
There’s a moment of complete silence in the room as those words sink in. Above him, Kokichi goes very, very still before he bursts into a fit of laughter, suddenly dropping down right on top of Shuichi.
It knocks the wind out of him. With this last piece, all remaining hints of a previous romantic atmosphere was finally all gone.
“Oh my God,” Kokichi wheezes into his chest, tears coming out of his eyes. “Just. Ouma Cuckichi. Oh my God.”
Shuichi takes in a deep breath and pushes him away. In one quick moment, he rolled off of the bed and stood up to make his way towards the doorway.
“Wait, wait. Where, where are you g-going, Shuichi?”
“I changed my mind. I’m packing my bags and leaving you. Goodbye, Kokichi.”
“Are you, fuck, are you leaving me for Momota-chan?” Kokichi asks, barely understandable through his newest fit of giggles.
“No. I’m leaving you for Amami-kun,” Shuichi says, one foot already out into the hallway. “I’m becoming Amami-Saihara Shuichi now.”
The sound of Kokichi’s laughter follows him as he pads over to the living room, heading over towards the thermostat and turning on the heating. Sometimes, he really hated his boyfriend.
