#fanfic drabble

[melminli]

crush

summery - just gojo being delusional

contains: fem reader, gojo being silly and annoying geto and shoko with his behavior

a dreamy sigh left gojo's lips as he stared into nothing. it was not the first and probably not the last, as he seemed to wait for one of his friends to finally ask him what was on his mind.

"what." geto asked, finally annoyed and couldn't take it anymore.

a light giggle escaped his best friend at his question. "well..." he began to tell, twirling an imaginary strand between his fingers. "...me and a certain someone had a moment today." he finally announced proudly and hid his face with his hands like a high school girl afterward.

his two friends looked a little pained at the scene because that's what this was. embarrassing and painful. "what happened." shoko asked disinterestedly, knowing that if she didn't engage in the conversation a bit, it would only drag on.

you were a third year jujutsu sorcerer, one year above them. because your grade, as well as theirs, had a very limited number of students it was not uncommon for you to be thrown together in different constellations from time to time. whether for lessons or missions.

and for a while now, satoru had a massive crush on you and wouldn't stop talking about it.

"okay, you're not going to believe this." he started telling the story that wasn't really a story since it was just so short. "but she asked me this morning how my weekend was, can you believe that? guys, i think she wants me."

geto and shoko's eyes met at what he said, though they really shouldn't be surprised anymore.

a few weeks ago, you lent him a pen in class because he didn't have one. nothing special if you're not caught in your own delusions. satoru has been talking ever since then about how you'd definitely want to marry him, and he also started to look at houses where you could be living together after that happened.

"sure." shoko said and hoped that was enough to get him to shut up. even if it only fed his delusions.

geto laughed lightly. "i don't know, man, but you really need to stop doing that. this can't be healthy."

[brotheramberland]

Senseis' as fathers with a child!reader that was born blind.

Senseis' include: Kakashi Hatake, Satoru Gojo, Yami Sukehiro, and Levi Ackerman.

Please keep in mind: All character & reader interactions are purely platonic. There is NO romance. The reader is somewhere below the age of twelve and is portrayed as non-binary. These drabbles are meant to be platonic, fluffy and comforting.

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Kakashi Hatake

"Do you have a good sense of your surroundings?" Kakashi asked from where he knelt beside you.

You sported a determined expression that he couldn't help but to find both adorable and admirable. Even blind you still tried your hardest to improve your skills no matter how dangerous it may be. It made him proud and also worried him to death.

"Mhm," You nodded, tilting your head, "There's a tree five meters that way. I think I know where to go."

"Very good," Kakashi patted your back, "Just remember, if you happen to fall, I'll be right there to catch you."

"Ok, daddy," You smiled at him before focusing all your attention on using echolocation to navigate the branch you wanted to jump on. If you were going to be a ninja one day, you had to practice and train with all your might, "Here I go."

Kakashi held his breath while calmly waiting for you to make your jump, his body braced in precaution. A lump grew in his throat and sweat lightly dampened his clothes. Honestly, he might be over-thinking a bit, but he couldn't help it. He loved you so much, and while he respected your desires to train, he still worried about you tremendously.

He had lost so much in his life. Losing the most precious piece of it would cause him to go infinitely insane. Your blindness was an extreme vulnerability, and although you had grown well adapted to it, there was still much you had left to learn. And it didn't help his anxiety any when you decided to do dangerous activities like this.

In a flash, you jumped.

With a stumble, you landed perfectly on the tree branch. Wobbling to regain balance, you blushed in triumph and giggled, "Ah! Did you see that, daddy? I made it!"

Kakashi swiftly jumped onto the same branch, smiling proudly behind his mask, "Yes I did. That was well done, dongo, good job. At this rate, you'll be a ninja in no time."

Delighted by his praise, you grinned and began looking around, getting excited when you sensed yet another nearby branch. "There's another one," You grinned and went to jump.

Kakashi gasped and reached out for you, "Wait, (y/n), not so fast."

This time around, you didn't land where you were supposed to. In fact you didn't come into contact with any trees, and instead fell to the far away ground. "Ahh, daddy!" You cried.

Kakashi caught you in an instant, safely securing you in his arms while landing on a nearby branch, "You okay?"

You whimpered, hugging him tightly and frowning in failure, "Yes, but... I missed."

"That's okay," Kakashi quickly reassured you, running a soothing hand through your messy hair, "We all make mistakes. Why don't you try again, but this time, try not to let your emotions overwhelm you, ok? Often times emotions can be more blinding than blindness itself."

"But... What if I miss again?" You say sadly, "I-if I can't jump like I'm supposed to, then I'll never get to be a ninja, an-and you'll hate me, a-and I w-won't get to be like you-"

"Hey, hey, where's this coming from?" Kakashi grasped your shaking shoulders, looking into your milky, watery eyes, "Dongo, I could never hate you, so don't ever assume that, ok? And this was only your second attempt. You have plenty more to go. Don't be so hard on yourself. One of the most important things about being a ninja is never giving up. You're not giving up, are you?"

Quickly wiping your eyes, you shook your head and say softly, "Do you really think I can do it?"

Kakashi smiled and went to playfully pinch your cheek, kissing you on the forehead through his mask before saying, "I know you can. There's nothing you can't do, (y/n), and I'll always be right here by your side to make sure of that."

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Levi Ackerman

Levi was enjoying one of his rare days off from the ever tiring Survey Corps. He hadn't gotten to see you in over a week- something he chewed Erwin out for sternly. By the time he entered his house, you came rushing towards him, your tiny figure accidentally bumping into things along the way.

"What did I say about running?" He grumbled, unable to resist hugging you whenever you were close enough, "Damn runt, gonna hurt yourself."

"I missed you, daddy," You say in a mixture of sadness and excitement, your cracking voice causing him to frown, "You were gone so long. I-I was scared you wouldn't come back."

"Hmp, so much for faith," Levi ruffled your hair, relief flooding him at finally getting to be at your side again, "Has nanny been good to you?"

You whimpered a bit, your glossy eyes pointing towards the ground, "I like her, but... She doesn't let me draw... or cook... or sew."

At that answer, Levi sighed and palmed his face, cursing nonsense underneath his breath. This was a common problem for you and him; nannies and babysitters not letting you do anything fun all because you were blind. None of them had any patience or consideration and it really got on his nerves.

"Tell me she read to you at least?" He rubbed his temple, not really in the mood to threaten another dumb nanny for mistreating his child, but if he had to he would absolutely give her a piece of his mind.

Your small "yes" was the only thing that saved her.

Seeing the dejection decorating your face, Levi tapped on your nose and said, "Well, you should know it's been a while since I've had some decent food. Get your little butt in there and cook me something already."

Gasping in joy at his given permission to do one of your favorite activities, you nearly leaped into the air, twirling around and giggling excitedly, "Yay! I get to cook for daddy."

Before you could run off, Levi grabbed your hand and grumbled, "No running this time."

You grumbled back at him and marched to the kitchen with a silly pout on your face. Levi shook his head, grinning as he thought about how much he loved you. Honestly, you being blind was kind of a relief to him simply because it meant that you would never be able to fight. And being the protective father he was, he rather preferred it that way.

You were already doing such a good job at basic daily activities like reading braille, learning how to write, cooking small meals, navigating your way through familiar places, and even drawing and sewing. People said you wouldn't develop properly when you were born. Well, Levi would like to see them say that to his face now.

Taking off his jacket, Levi none-too-politely paid the nanny and threw her out of his house. Then he went into the kitchen where you were currently working on mixing eggs in a bowl, your eyes staring mindlessly at the wall. You may be blind, but you made him so unbelievably proud, you had no idea.

"I'm making your favorite, daddy," You say cheerfully when you noticed his presence.

Levi smirked and went to put some fire in the stove, "'Bout time I was spoiled."

You giggled, carefully climbed down from the chair, and walked over to him, reaching out to feel for his hand, "Can I see you?"

After getting the fire started, Levi knelt down in front of you and patiently allowed you to touch his face with your hands. You often did this during moments when he held you, your little hands gently feeling the structure of his face in an attempt to get an idea of what he really looked like.

"I missed you, daddy," You say quietly.

Levi reached forward and pulled you into a firm, loving hug, kissing the side of your cheek, "Missed you too, you little runt."

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Satoru Gojo

Who would have thought that his child would be born with beautiful crystal eyes like he himself had, and yet be cursed never to use them? Even though your disability was not his fault, Gojo still felt guiltily accountable, and always sought protecting you and making you the happiest he possibly could.

Starting a new morning, Gojo carried some fresh, folded clothes into your bedroom, quiet and stealthy. You were sleeping peacefully on your bed, your little snores causing his heart to flood with endearment. Gosh, you were so precious to him.

Setting the clothes down, Gojo knelt beside the bed and reached out to brush a gentle hand through your hair. You whimpered, your head stirring around on the pillow. "Hm? Hello? Rise and shine," He playfully sang.

You groaned softly, your body stretching out as your eyes squinted open. "Mm... Daddy?" You reached out to feel for him as your eyes stayed aimed towards the ceiling.

"Morning, my little angel," Gojo grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently, "Time to get up."

"Are you taking me to work today?" You asked curiously, tilting your head towards him, your hand tensing within his own larger one, "What if they don't like me?"

"Are you kidding me? They're gonna love you," Gojo blew raspberries and laughed, "And if they don't, then guess what? More butts' for me to leave my ultra-famous, Gojo styled foot print on."

Giggling at his joke, you reached out with your free hand and go to feel the blind-fold covering his powerful eyes, "I wish I could be more like you."

That sent a bullet roaring through Gojo's heart. He absolutely hated it when you degraded yourself and/or claimed that you wished you were different. It broke his heart more than you could ever imagine. "Hmm, well I love you just the way you are," He said casually.

"In fact I'd give up my own eyes any day to be just like you; free house, free food, the world's most riveting, handsome dad (if I do say so myself), and of course the opportunity to never have to work in a dangerous environment," Gojo smiled and patted your head, "There are plenty of reasons to be like you. Quit being so negative- you'll make the walls cry- and they don't even have eyes."

Letting go of your hand, Gojo grabbed your clothes and unceremoniously tossed them onto your face, "Hurry, hurry, or I'll eat all of the breakfast. Hm? Breakfast... Oh no, the breakfast!"

Sensing your father quickly disappear, you only manage to frown when the fire alarms began going off seconds later. Looks like he burnt breakfast... Again...

After you got dressed, brushed your teeth and headed down the hallway, you grimaced at the stench of burnt eggs. Goodness, what a silly father you had, but you loved him. Coming to a stop at the table where you sensed he was sitting at, you timidly held out a single band of cloth.

"Oh? What's this?" Gojo asked nonchalantly, pretending not to be embarrassed about, yet again, burning breakfast, "A scarf?"

"I... I thought that maybe... S-since I'm blind, maybe I could wear something like what you wear to cover your eyes. Then that way..." You frowned, tilting your nose down at the ground, "That way they won't know I'm blind. They'll think I'm strong, like you."

If your words could be knives, then they would have just sliced right through his chest. Still though, he managed to maintain his optimistic, calm persona, "What? You wanna lie to your new friends? Well that's not very nice. Their hearts would be broken in seconds."

"But..." You whimpered.

"Listen, (y/n)," Gojo reached out to grasp your shoulder, squeezing it gently, "You're not like me. You will never be anything like me. Why- you may ask? Because you're already a million times better."

You sniffled, leaning in to hug him, grateful that he so greatly accepted and loved you no matter how flawed you were, "I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, little angel who is stronger and cooler and- while I hate to admit it- better looking than me," Gojo teased, your laughter his haven that he could live in forever.

He loves you, (y/n), remember that.

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Yami Sukehiro

Yami, in general, was already extremely protective of you, especially after he discovered that you would forever be blind. Now that's not to say that he didn't encourage you to push past your limits. In fact he helped you train all the time. But see, the only problem he had with you training was when you trained by yourself.

And when he found out that you had been flying around on a broom by yourself thus leading to the breaking of your arm, Yami just about tore the rooftops off buildings with his sheer rage alone.

He was in the medical ward giving Magna and Luck a good scolding until you came prattling up, your arm perfectly healed by healing-magic. "Daddy, please stop being mean to Magna and Luck," You whined, tears in your eyes as you lightly shook, "I'm sorry. It's my fault... I went outside without their permission and rode the broom... It's my fault."

The entire ward went dead silent as Yami turned all his attention to you. Considering how bad his temper could get, you were pretty brave for admitting your mistake. And the look on your face; embarrassed, frightened and sad. He knew that you were telling the truth.

"Alright then," Yami relaxed and stepped forward to take your healed hand in his, his voice calm as he said, "Think it's 'bout time you and I had a little chat."

You whimpered but otherwise said nothing the entire time your father lead you just outside the ward. You knew from how he treated others that making him angry resulted in a scary outcome, and you worried what he would do to you now that you've finally done something to upset him. You felt bad too. Sad and regretful.

Once you were outside, Yami let go of your hand and lit a cigarette, "So... Ya just thought ya could do whatever the heck ya wanted to, huh?"

You tensed, your blind eyes staring at the ground, "I did a bad thing. I'm sorry, daddy."

Yami considered you. Unlike other people who annoyed him, he had never really ever gotten mad at you. Seeing how scared you were right now was suffocating enough to make him pout. Was he really making you that uncomfortable? But... He was your father. You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Ya know, if this were me an' my dad, I woulda' already got my head beat in," Yami blew out a cloud of smoke, "Lucky for you though, I ain't him... I do wanna know one thing though- If all ya wanted to do was ride a damn broom, why didn't ya ask for help?"

You swayed back and forth, fiddling with your hands, "'Cause... You don't need help, an'..."

Ah. So you wanted to be like him. Yami closed his eyes in understanding. "Squirt, get over here an' look at me," Yami crouched down and guided your tiny hand to rest against the side of his face.

He in return cupped your face, gazing into your foggy eyes and saying, "I don't need help 'cause I'm all grown an' got full control over my mana. You're still a tiny, little sprout. Now if ya wanna train, that's fine, but 'till then, you train when someone else is around to help, ya hear?"

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling, "Yes, daddy."

"Eh? I go easy on ya an' you're still about'a cry? Talk about sensitive," Yami chuckled a bit, gently whacking your nose with his thumb.

"I-it's not you, daddy, I..." You whimpered, your body buckling up, "When I fell- i-it... It was just so scary a-and it hurt..."

Oh. Yami's face bloomed with realization. Oh... That was your first traumatic experience, huh? No wonder you were so upset. At first he thought about teasing you or making a sarcastic remark, but ultimately decided against it.

Instead he settled for wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his large chest. "It'll be alright, squirt. You're tough. You'll pull through. Everything's gonna be alright, ya hear?"

Soaking up his comforting warmth and attention, you whimpered and nodded, trying your hardest to hide in the safety of his chest. Your father was so strong and comforting. With him around, it was guaranteed that you would always be safe.

[theladyismyshepard]

Stamp of Approval

(The party's most favored memory of your journey)

A little note on Wyll's piece: My original playthrough I invaded the Iron Throne Prison INSTEAD of attending the ceremony that Gorthash invites the party to, so if it doesn't make sense, I'm going off the logic of what I encountered with doing that

Shadowheart –

The growth in relationship between you and Shadowheart was a slow, methodical journey on your part. The curiosity would burn right below your skin, a need to reach out and seek for more. She wasn’t much of an open book, preferring to keep her secrets to heart, and you knew with just the wrong amount of prodding, it would push her further away, an irreparable rift severed between the two of you. It didn’t take much consideration to give her the space she wordlessly demanded, just a lot of willpower.

You ignored Lae’zel’s mocking comments comparing you to a “lovesick pup waiting hand and foot” when you made every effort to appease Shadowheart’s interests. It was always worth it to watch her face light up with inspiration when you took every measure to serve upon the Gods or learn of their works. Shadowheart absorbed the knowledge you ascertained and allowed it to fuel her guidance upon herself and the rest of the party. You try to reason with yourself that you would put in as much effort for everyone as you do for Shadowheart, but you also can’t deny that none of the others can cause a pool of heat to warm your very core with nothing but a polite smile.

She knew how to draw you in, she did so with no effort on her part when you encountered her bound form trapped inside a pod on the nautiloid. You weren’t exactly sure what she found so intriguing in you. You initially considered your unlikely title of “hero”, but you noticed she only had so much patience and approval with your habit of putting literally everyone ahead of yourself (and the cure) before deeming it too self-destructive.

However, it was glaringly obvious she would never disapprove of you taking on the responsibility of caring for the strays that crossed your path. Astarion and Lae’zel had a begrudging resignation for being slowly outnumbered by animal life, whereas Shadowheart and Karlach had an aura of child-like glee about themselves. You would never forget the first morning you had awoken in camp after you had first spotted Scratch circling the dead body of his former master and felt the overwhelming need to accept him as your own. He looked so jolly, as if there was nothing at all wrong in the world so long as you were by his side, and you couldn’t help but to unleash all of your love and affection onto him. Your attention was so absorbed, that you almost missed the small smile gracing Shadowheart’s lips along with the subtle crinkle around her eyes as she watched you. It was a look of raw approval which she smoothed out once she noticed your attention was on her.

As you scouted and looted throughout your travels, you came across a tattered stuffed bear one day. It was an impulsive decision to stop and store it away in your bag, a fleeting thought of Shadowheart was what prompted it. You weren’t aware of every bit of information that she could provide, but you did know that the huge gaps in her memory offered both a blessing and a curse. She wasn’t granted the best of childhoods, and you couldn’t help the thought of a young Shadowheart, alone and without the comfort of even a stuffed companion. The rush of adrenaline that came with the sudden need to give it to her, to watch the happiness brighten every corner of her face had you bouncing on each step back to camp.

You entailed the assistance of a couple members of the party: Karlach and Astarion. The vampire offered a delicate hand that was skilled in the craft of sewing to gently pull the stuffed bear back together. After you carefully handwashed the toy in the river that you camped near, Karlach took her duty very seriously. You couldn’t help the smile as her tongue poked out the side of her mouth in concentration as she balanced her heat accordingly to dry the toy of excess water without setting it ablaze.

That was some time ago, and as you gazed down at the well-used stuffed bear, you felt a bit foolish for the timing. The party’s mounting problems had a snowball effect, and once one situation ended, another began in its place. You stood outside of Shadowheart’s tent, where you had been for the past few minutes contemplating if you should grant her the space she required when processing things. You had just convinced her to let go of her parents, to end the struggle and curse binding the entire family to Shar. It was like poison coating your tongue, knowing how hard the road was getting to the House of Grief and everything that Shadowheart had given up for that exact moment, but it felt so wrong to go against the desperate pleas of her parents, begging you to end Shar’s torment for them all because they knew their daughter had not the strength for it.

“Did you want something? If not, I’m perfectly happy to just gaze upon you a while.” The greeting caught you off-guard and as you looked upon her false bravado, down to the pain swirling just below the surface, you could feel yourself start to break in guilt. You threw your arms around her, the stuffed bear squashed between your bodies, and apologized thickly.

“It was the right thing to do… even if I can’t bring myself to believe it just yet– oh… what is this?”

“I wasn’t sure if you had anything of comfort when you really needed it back then, so I wanted to make sure you had something now… It was cute, so naturally it reminded me of you,”

There was a newfound softness to her eyes as they darted all across your face, taking in the embarrassed red flare on your cheeks to the subtle sheen of sweat collecting atop your brow. As you attempted to joke and smile off the sentiment, her hands cupped the back of your neck as easily as if she had done so all her life, and pulled you down into a passionate kiss marred only by her building grin.

“I love it… I love you,” You were filled to the brim with warmth every time you looked over during your many months of traveling when it was all said and done and would spot the stuffed bear tucked into her own travel bag, refusing to leave it behind anywhere.

Karlach –

Your romance with Karlach roared to life fairly quickly, but that was to be expected with someone like her. When you’re living on borrowed time, and death was always a step away to collect it back, everything burned brighter, as did the relationship between you two. You could hardly remember a time when you had been led to believe her to be this devil reigning chaos everywhere she went. For she was the most adorable woman you had ever met, and her bubbly personality had you instantly head over heels.

You found Karlach easily inspired as you traveled and explored new areas of Faerun. The look of awe on her face made the whole situation feel as though it were nothing more than an adventure, a quest to ensure Karlach had seen it all and done it all. There was always a bittersweet ache lodged in your chest when you were granted the sight of sparkles in her eyes. Even more so when she thanked you for it… as if you shouldn’t be on your knees thanking her for her very existence.

After Dammon had informed the two of you of the severity of Karlach’s condition, you didn’t even dare approach the topic of her returning to Avernus. It was unthinkable to push her back into her worst nightmare that she fought tooth and nail to crawl her way out of. You pull yourself together because no matter how much it broke your own heart, no one was more cheated here than Karlach herself, and you had to be strong enough to soothe her pain, not the other way around (even though you knew her to be so selfless that she would). You keep her close when you all travel, making sure some part of you is always touching some part of her at all times, and you know she greatly approves of the physical contact when she randomly grins down at you from time to time.

Weeks worth of whispered words and frantic touches had your personal goals shifting. When you had first awoken on the nautiloid, you cared for little else aside from curing yourself of the tadpole taking shelter behind your eye, but as you heard more of Karlach’s life, you grew scornful of Zariel and Gortash. The purest of souls was the grandest treasure to the devil indeed, but Karlach was a Goddess that rose above while you yourself were falling. She didn’t even need to ask if you would help avenge her– that was a given. Your journey had taken you this way and that, pitting you against foe of every kind… You could handle descending into the Hells and waging wars on devils.

Because you already did… summoning the portal in the House of Hope led you directly to Raphael’s home in the Hells, and it revealed so much to you– the Orphic Hammer that aided in your quest to free Orpheus, the poor, demented soul of Hope, who guided you the whole way, and the glaring fact that Karlach felt the most at ease that you’ve ever seen her to be. Her breathing was easier, her movements weren’t jerky or rigid with pain so she wasn’t bouncing around to loosen herself up as she constantly did in the mortal realm. You could almost get used to the sight… almost. You also tried to ignore the fluidity of her being, seeing as you knew it to be short-lived, but as you noticed Karlach’s immediate attachment to Hope, you couldn’t stop the onslaught of design.

You bit your tongue after Raphael fell and after Hope thanked you tremendously with the promise of bringing sanctuary to her former prison. Once the party returned to Baldurs Gate, Karlach’s grunt of pain was immediate as were the flames dancing along her flesh. There was a single bead of sweat dripping down her temple that your eyes followed along with until they snapped to her pained smile. She tried so hard to comfort you despite her own agony, and you were starting to think it was because she didn’t know how to accept comfort enough to let you try and do the same. As you lean forward and carefully kiss the ragged breath from her lungs, you continue to bite your tongue.

You could not bite your tongue when she (in Karlach fashion) offered to take on the Astral Tadpole to gain the full Mind Flayer potential. She reasoned it would be an edge on the battlefield that they couldn’t pass up and went even further as to say that her time was running out anyway… She had not a selfish bone in her body, and that was why you found a selfish backbone for her. Karlach was made up entirely of soul and willpower, and you refused to allow her to give up what absolute little she had left. You would sooner die than let that happen, and while you would agree with anyone claiming your soul was to be damned to the Hells, you happily pushed the weight of the Astral Tadpole in Orpheus’ direction. Karlach was quiet on and off the battlefield following your call, and it was gnawing at you, knowing that it was bothering her.

“Copper for your thoughts, darling?” She can’t help but smile at her own words played back to her, and didn’t protest when you sat down next to her outside her tent.

“I just… It doesn’t make sense to me. My life is pretty much moot at this point, it’s just a matter of when. I could’ve had one last hurrah, yeah? A fighter till the end,”

“At the cost of your soul, Karlach? It was my decision in the end, if anyone is to be plagued with guilt it should be me, but I think you should know that I don’t regret it,”

“But why!” exclaimed Karlach in exasperation, her eyes misting over in a mixture of irritation and sorrow, “I’m dying anyway, soldier, there was no other option than-”

“Than changing your whole being?” You challenge, moving to where you were practically in her lap. “We’ve already sacrificed and fought for so much, Karlach, it’s time you get to rest, baby, and call me selfish, but all I want to do is rid ourselves of this parasite, and find a way to live a happy life with you.”

You could see the calm look on her face and immediately knew she was about to dive into a spiel about her impending death with as little condescension as possible, and you beat her to it, deciding that you no longer would bite your tongue, “Let’s both go back to the House of Hope… return to the sanctuary that Hope was creating out of Raphael’s old mansion, and until a more permanent solution for your engine is found, we’ll be happy because we have each other… right?”

Karlach blinked as her mouth opened and closed a few times, a perfect imitation of a goldfish as she processed what you just proposed. Her brow furrowed before relaxing before furrowing again. She held her pointer finger at the ready for an announcement that died on her lips, her finger drooping. You took mercy on her before looping your arms around her neck and bringing your lips together in a kiss to seal it. Karlach was beginning to lose hope as the days dwindled, you had seen the weight of resignation set heavily upon her shoulders as they began to sag. Now… you felt a newfound strength in resolve building within the muscles twitching beneath your hands, and it excited you. You knew your words had inspired her to live more than the bluest of oceans, the greenest of grasses, the freshest of airs. She wanted a life, no matter where it was, so long as you were at her side.

Minthara –

Your initial response to Minthara was that she was incredibly deluded by the will of this “Absolute”. She seemed so dedicated to this cause, and ready to dominate and bend the will of those who didn’t, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t send a shiver down your spine. She regarded you carefully, eyes trailing up and down your body and you could see your resulting quiver was passed through the connection of the True Soul if the darkening of her eyes were anything to go by. You felt as though you were trekking on ice and you could never properly find your footing when you were around her.

Her eyes followed your movements anytime you wandered around camp, whether it be to make small talk with your other companions or to put your mind at ease. Minthara was bold with her calculations and made no move to hide her intrigue. Any time you would look over and meet her eyes, it was always you who looked away first, your body rigid underneath the weight of her lingering gaze and mind scattered as you attempted to find your place in conversation once more. Astarion merely arches a brow in response, and you didn’t like this… this spell she had cast on you. You liked to think that you were tactful with your solution– by insisting she stay in camp while you and a few of the others scouted the area, covering as much ground as it took for nightfall to cast a dark blanket that you hoped Minthara would be nestled in, falling fast asleep by the time the party arrived back. After a while, you aren’t really surprised anymore when you see her lounged comfortably by the campfire, wine goblet in hand as if awaiting your arrival.

“Ah, the mighty hero returns from yet another quest… I have been awaiting your arrival,” You held a deep-seeded exhaustion, one that seeped down into your very bones, and you found yourself in no mood to either entertain her devious scheming or withstand the glowering disapproval if you found yourselves at a disagreement. “Come, sit before me,” It wasn’t a request so much as it was a demand, and despite yourself, you approached Minthara, standing before her and arching your brow in question. She rolled her eyes so hard you were almost afraid they would fall free from her head before her hand reached out and pulled you down to your knees. Despite your squawking and huffing, she twisted your form until you were sitting facing the fire with her body dangerously close to your back. Your eyes repeatedly glanced down at her legs that were resting on either side of you, surrounding you, and you were so absorbed in your staring that you flinched when you felt her strong fingers begin working at the knots twisting the muscles of your shoulders.

“What’re-”

“Relax…” her voice was sultry in your ear before you felt her hot breath against the back of your neck, “You harbor a lot of weight here… Your back must be incredibly sore from carrying the fate of this world.”

Your eyes flutter closed on their own accord and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, and when you felt her smirk hiding in your hair, you knew you were falling right into a trap of some sort. Her purposeful hands wandered lower as she massaged little circles into her back, forcing you to straighten up, and once you did, her arms surrounded you before pulling you flush against her front. Your head fell back against her shoulder, and your obscured vision robbed you the sight of Minthara’s wicked smile as her eyes hungrily grazed down your body. Her hands recommenced their movements on your hips, and she smiled genuinely when she felt your muscles quivering at her slight touch.

Her hands found purchase in both of your pockets and as your brow furrowed, her teeth were latching onto your shoulder, leaving indentations that were shallow enough to disappear within the next few hours, and she soothed it by flattening her tongue and licking over the bite mark. Her skillful hands worked at the muscles of your thighs through your trousers, and you were soon melting, becoming putty in her palms. Minthara occasionally pressed kisses into your hair and it wasn’t long before your breathing was shallowing out.

“Some of us care little for this display,” drawled Shadowheart from her tent, her face scrunched in a grimace before she returned to her prayer.

“And some of us are enjoying it,” countered Astarion, his eyes flashing wickedly before a glare from Minthara had him raising his hands in a conceding gesture.

“Shall we take this to my tent? Lay you out in a way you might be more comfortable?” The request was hushed, though you two left little to no doubt of your intentions when you scrambled (she strode gracefully) to reach her one bedroll.

Throughout the hours of the night leading to first daylight, the scene shifted from her on top of you to you on top of her and it continued until you found yourself falling fast asleep with her still inside of you. Minthara managed to lull you into a sleep so deep that you didn’t even wake to her digging through the pockets of your discarded trousers before clutching at the jar containing the collection of illithid tadpoles you had discovered along your journey. She considered accepting them all for herself without even a thought spared to you. The unimaginable power, an unrivaled throne atop a whole world ready to serve her.

You mumbled something in your sleep, your eyes never opening yet your arms were out searching and you captured Minthara around her waist before pulling her in and curling around her unbalanced form. One arm was propping her up and the other grasped at your hand around her. She stared unblinkingly at your face for an entire minute as something shifted within her. You had the opportunity to expunge her existence from this plane just as you did with Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin, but you spared her. A foolish notion that Minthara herself would never have made if roles were reversed, but as she stared down at your peaceful face, the opportunity to strike glaringly obvious, she found that she wasn’t looking forward to the impending loneliness that was sure to follow your death.

Her goal of power and blood was still at the forefront, but she was picturing enough room that included you as well. And if you had any qualms about taking the Netherbrain’s influence for you two’s personal gain? Well… she had ways of persuading you.

Wyll –

Wyll was a knight in shining armor from your very first impression of him outside of the Grove, ready to lay down his life to defend the innocents trapped within. It didn’t take you long to deduce that he would die happily so long as he played the part of the folk hero. You acted hypocritical anytime you found yourself questioning his heroics and if it all was really worth it. You had your own role in saving the world that was forced upon you, and you understood the call to help when the lost and the damned begged you so brokenly.

Consider yourself surprised when you learned of this angelic man’s pact with a devil named Mizora. There was shame shrouding him after he broke his word to track down Karlach and drive a battle ax straight through the fire she called a heart once he learned that Karlach was a victim herself. His horns were forever a reminder of his dealings with a devil, and while he appeared to hate no one but himself, you felt no traces of regret through your connection. It was a choice he would make every time for Baldurs Gate and his father’s people. Even if that caused the very rift between him and his father.

Wyll was so considerate of a man that he understood the disapproval completely and accepted the banishment with no argument. He took on the persona of the Blade of the Frontiers in hopes of righting his hellish deed tenfold. If he were to die honorably in battle protecting those who couldn’t fight for themselves, then so be it. It wasn’t likely to save his soul in the end, not when it was tethered to a pact in the Hells. Wyll would tell you this to be his biggest fear after you had accepted his beautiful request to dance and you two spun all night long. It was a hollow fact to him, and you swore to yourself in the heat of that night that you would do whatever it took to free Wyll of his pact with Mizora.

As your relationship blossomed, you couldn’t help but to wonder if he dabbled in the ways of the Bard. His words held a melodic tune that sometimes left you entranced by the vibration of it rather than the actual words he was speaking. You would always remember the bashful look he wore one night when he approached you with a piece of parchment trembling the slightest in his hand, his eyes both seeking yours and then averting when he found them. Wyll cleared his throat and after rambling a bit until your fond laughter had him shaking his head, he began to recite poetry that you weren’t familiar with. Your smile softened as he pressed on, but then it slipped away as your mouth parted slightly with a heavy exhale once you realized it was about you.

His words spoke of your devotion, of your wits, of your beauty, and you found yourself melting at the fact that no one had ever written you a poem before, and yet this warlock, who used to be more eloquent when he was crafting spells than he was when he was flirting had found inspiration from you. You inspired a man who inspired so many people with his endless supply of positivity, and you wondered what exactly made you so lucky as to find yourself in an epic romance with Wyll Ravenguard, the man who could hardly be shaken, even while looking into the face of evil and terror.

You felt his jittery need to rush the underwater prison that Gortash had set to blow in search of his imprisoned and infected father. You nodded to Karlach and she was soon dropping from the opening rather than using the grimy ladder. With her warhammer cocked over her shoulder and at the ready, she went to work on clearing out the sahuagin that stood guard. Once she was out of sight, leaving behind a bloody trail, you handed Lae’zel every Arrow of Transposition you purchased and hoped her Misty Step would carry her the rest of the way after ordering her down the east corridor in search of prisoners. Wyll was nearly seething by the time you turned to him and before the command could even leave your mouth, he was already charging, the Dimension Door spell already crackling to life at his fingertips.

Time was ticking and for each enemy that was cut down, about five more appeared from the murky depths. You could hear the slapping of shoes against wet stone as everyone who was released made a frantic dash towards the exit. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back when you heard a woman who was intercepted by one of the monsters. Try as you might, the following ripping sound and resulting gurgle would haunt your dreams to come. It was an incredible gamble to invade the Iron Throne Prison, and once Gortash gave the final call, you knew that it was damn near impossible to save everyone. The sinking reality set in as you passed body after body while retracing your steps back to the exit hatch. Wyll frowned so deeply that it was bringing lines to his forehead. It was going against everything the Blade of the Frontiers stood for, this act of selfish grandeur to ensure his father’s life over all else.

The rotten taste of unfairness bit like acid on the back of Wyll’s tongue, and at this point, he shouldn’t be as shocked as he was to find out that his father wasn’t being held in the prison like he was led to believe by Mizora… Whatever possessed you to take her for her word was beyond you, and you had just about enough with that devil and her trickery. As the submarine filled with what Gondian survivors were remaining departed from the explosion, you couldn’t help but to ponder the comparisons between Mizora and Raphael to determine if you could handle a battle against her.

It seemed fitting that you found the Duke at Gortash’s side in Wyrm’s Rock Fortress during the final showdown with Bane’s Chosen. It was a ruthless fight, and while you tried several tactics to break the influence controlling the Duke, his curse proved unshakable and his strength was consuming you. It was only a matter of time before his sword was destined to cut you down, and as you craned your neck to give Wyll one last exhausted, resigned smile as you made the decision to put the Duke’s life before your own, Wyll found himself charging with a roar that sounded an awful lot like “NO!”

His own blade pierced the final blow that brought the Duke to his knees, blinking away the influence that muddled his mind. He sputtered as he looked from the hilt protruding from his chest to his son, who stood over him with a look of horrific realization. As he began swaying dangerously close to the point of toppling over, Wyll dropped to his side to cradle his father close, mindful of the blade. He sobbed and hiccuped past his rushed apologies, but his father blinked past the pain to acknowledge his son.

“There is more to this world than just gods and devils, my boy, and you are neither. I’m…”

The gargled whisper would remain unfinished forever, and it broke Wyll to pieces as he clutched at his father’s lifeless body. He sobbed even as Karlach delivered the final smiting blow to Gortash’s feeble body, and wasn’t even paying attention when she chopped off his hand for the tribunal to Bhaal. You awkwardly hovered above Wyll, unsure if he would even accept your presence after he killed his own father to save you, but you had a secret trick up your sleeve, one that you had been saving for just the right time, and one that you could only call upon once in your lifetime. Wyll was willing to make a great sacrifice for your life, it was only fair you did the same for his happiness.

“My love,” You whisper gently and only continue when his tear-streaked face looked up at you, “If you’d allow me, I would like to call upon Selune’s Opulent Revival and save your father.”

Wyll’s eyes widened as he felt a surge of hope warm his veins. He glanced between both of your eyes, searching for something that you weren’t entirely sure of before he was rearranging his father’s body. He couldn’t help his whimpered gag as he tore the blade free from his father’s chest to prevent complications. With the Duke lying flat against the ground, you got to your own knees, ready to summon your prayer that would call upon Selune’s power to revive and restore health. Wyll grabbed ahold of your hand before you could rest it against the Duke’s chest. He raised your wrist and pressed the most reverent of kisses to your palm before dropping another to the inside of your wrist. When you caught his eyes again, there was no hiding the adoration he had for you in this very moment.

Once the moment passed, you placed your hand over the still heart within the Duke’s chest, and dared not remove it until your lips paused at the end of your prayer, and there was a fluttering against the same palm that could still feel the press of Wyll’s lips.

[waxflowerexe]

Olderbf!Todo x Reader

LOOK AT HIM!!

I want older Todo who showers his girlfriend in gifts regardless of her protests. You want it, you get it. Extravagant gestures of love are his forte. One time he took you on vacation as ’a little I love you’, or when you said you were sad so he got you a puppy. You’re his princess and his princess ‘cannot go without what she wants’. Your shared bedroom is full of clothes and shoes and all the cute little gifts he buys you, sometimes you feel bad. But he shuts down any inkling of guilt you could ever feel.

“Baby come here please, I got you something”

“Todo, I can’t accept another gift” you pout

“It’s a surprise, come baby, indulge me. Think of it as an exchange, you’re my girl in exchange for gifts”

“But doesn’t that make me a sugar ba-”

He places his finger on your lips, pressing a kiss over it

“Shhhh, let me spoil you”

I wanna write this up properly when u get the energy but I’m lazyyy

~Love Flo 🌸🌸

[ink-through-her-veins]

Merlin stands, a little too carefully and gingerly for a man who has repeatedly tripped on his own feet and nothing at all. He limps a few steps.

“What have you done?” Arthur asks with a dramatic put upon sigh.

“Nothing!” Merlin says, far too quickly and not at all innocently.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Do you care to explain how nothing has left you walking like a crippled old man?”

“I do not.”

“I am not asking Merlin.”

“Technically, you did ask.”

“Merlin!”

“It wasn’t my fault. I was in the market buying herbs for Gaius and there were these thugs trying to shake down one of the shopkeepers. What was I supposed to do?”

“What did you do?”

“Well I couldn’t just let them get away with it.”

The tension behind Arthur’s eyes grows steadily with each word Merlin says. An image of an entirely destroyed marketplace comes to mind. He can only imagine the damage that Merlin has done and that would no doubt be traced back to Arthur somehow.

“How much damage did you cause?”

“There was one broken pot, one broken nose, and a black eye. And I will have you know that I paid for the pot.”

Arthur shrugs. After all he’s broken his own share of pots.

[batty-writes-fanfic]

♡ Riding Ethan Winters NSFW Drabble ♡ 

NSFW MDNI!!

Character: Ethan Winters

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: AFAB reader, reader can be read as gender-neutral kinda???, Dom-ish!reader, Sub!Ethan, we call him "Ethan Whimpers" for a reason around here, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v smut, no use of y/n, use of pet names (baby, pretty boy, good boy), reader takes place of Mia as Ethan's partner

(probably OOC forgive me)

Author's Note: Wrote this as a request for a good friend of mine, and kinda ran with it! Also this is my second time ever writing any type of smut so forgive me if it sucks man.

He looked so pretty underneath you, his face a painting of pure bliss as you rocked your hips against his. He had one hand on your hip and the other grasping at the sheets as he whimpered out praises. “Fuck baby…..’ts so good.” His words were falling out like a waterfall due to the amount of pleasure you were bringing him with each drag of your hips. 

It was honestly funny how this whole scenario played out, he had gotten home from a long and grueling day at work, feeling like nothing had gone right. It started as an innocent cuddle session, with you petting his hair and kissing all over his cheeks and nose, tracing every small imperfection on them with your lips. Then those kisses traveled lower and lower until before you knew it you were slowly pulling down his boxers and licking up his pretty cock. He had a couple prominent but sensitive veins that when touched by your fingers and tongue made him unravel quicker than anything else.

Back to the moment at hand however, your body on top of Ethan’s, his face was so beautiful as his brows were knitted together and his eyes closed shut tightly. You dipped your head down to capture his lips in a soft and tender kiss, his hands letting go of your hip and the sheets to gently grab at the back of your neck and cheek. The kiss was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each roll of your hips. He moaned into your mouth with every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, every so often clenching around it deliberately which forced out a long string of whimpers as he felt himself be brought closer and closer to the edge.

His hands left your face and neck to grasp at the sheets below as you picked up your pace in riding his aching cock. “F-fuuuck….” A small stuttered out moan coming from his puffy kissed out lips as you lean back to take in the sight below you. “Fuck, fuck fuck-“ Quick whimpers coming from his lips as the tip of his cock kept kissing your cervix due to the position.

 Every lift and drop of your hips hitting the perfect spot inside your body. “S-so good Ethan -fuck- you feel so good, my good boy.” The praises slipping out of your mouth brought him to release as his hands twisted the sheets below. You could see the prominent veins on his hands almost bulging as his knuckles turned white from the strength of his grip. 

You could feel the waves of white hot cum paint the walls of your tight pussy as you kept going to bring yourself to completion. The overstimulation causing him to moan and whimper even more:

“Too much -fuck- baby- too much-“

His pleas going unheard as you brought your own fingers down to rub at your puffy clit as you kept rocking your hips on top of his. He couldn’t deny how pretty you looked as you moaned out every single praise in the book towards him and his cock. “You’re such a Pretty Boy, such a Good Boy, god-“ He let go of the sheets and brought up his toned arms and hands to cup your tits, squeezing them softly as your hips began to stutter.

After a few more squeezes and a few more drags of your hips he felt your pussy tighten around him causing him to moan and whimper even more than before. Within a few moments your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, you swore you could see stars flash behind your eyes in the midst of the storm. You sat on top of him panting for a moment with his now partially hard dick still inside, his hands slightly shaking as they still kept their grip on your tits; after a few moments his hands left and pulled you down so he could kiss your soft lips, mumbling praises in between. 

“So good to me baby, so pretty and sweet all for me.” He murmured softly between kisses as he slipped out of you with a lift of your hips, the feeling of his cum dribbling out reminding you of the pleasure both of you just experienced together. You moved to get up and grab a washcloth to clean up but were quickly pulled down by the tightening of his arms on your waist. “Stay.” He mumbled as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck as you sighed and smiled softly. “Yes baby, I’ll stay for you, my good boy….” And with that, you fell asleep in each other's embrace.

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Noisy Typhoon (Trigun) fic

content: Vash the Stampede X reader fanfiction. Romance, established relationship, mature subject of sexual intimacy and making love.

Soft snoring. That was what filled the little room. Vash was out like a light. Snoring from his position in the bed you two shared. Yet you had no real way of getting upset over the noise. Watching as the very naked blonde lay next to your own bare frame. Completely vulnerable and at peace as he dozed. A stark contrast from how the two of you started out in the bed.

Vash was a very vocal person. You've known that for a while. From his little nervous noises to him shouting and freaking out like an idiot. So it wasn't a surprise at how vocal he was when the two of you made love. His gasps of surprise when you touched him. Deep whimpers when you removed his shirt. A shiver and keening sob when you traced your fingertips over his bare skin and scars as he held himself in place for you. A sorrowful mewl when you kissed his lips with gentle love. Vash always made his emotions heard. A unique and beautiful language you learned to translate over time.

The blonde gave a hard snort to turn and move closer to you. Tears pricking at his eyes as he snuggled as close as he could get to you. Reminding you of how he had tried to flinch away from your touch hours earlier. His fear of rejection etched into his entire body and reflected in those beautiful eyes. So you had assured him of your acceptance. With kisses and touches and sweet words of warm affection. Offering your own body, heart, and soul into his keeping. Vash had followed your lead to soon sweep you into his eager arms. His aching desire and tender want to belong to you melting and mixing as the both of you stripped off your clothes. The bed taking your combined weight as Vash nipped and kissed your now barren skin. Panting and whining in his eagerness to make the two of you into one. He had been so desperate. So afraid that at any moment you would no longer be his to love and treasure with his body and heart.

So Vash had spent several hours giving you and receiving pleasure out of love. Teasing and tasting to let you do so back. The sacred dance of worship on two becoming one out of unconditional love. Vash had cried often during the moments of euphoria. Only for you to wipe those tears away and begin anew. Until the both of you had made love in the bed to then move to the claw foot bathtub and back to the bed once more. The two of you a sated tangled mess to then fall into a restful slumber. Yet you awoke to that familiar sound of snoring. making you smile to watch Vash sleep. Tracing your gaze over his naked and scarred body with blissful joy. But soon Vash gave a sigh to open those gorgeous eyes and look up at you. A blush dusting over his skin as he smiled a sweet and nervous smile at you. His giggle one of mirth and love. "So... I guess we're an official couple now? Does this mean we might do more of that later?"

[idungoofed]

Wrapped In His Arms

Here’s a little touch starved Din drabble I came up with while trying to sleep last night, enjoy!

Warnings: none really just fluff, soft!Din, some swearing, helmet comes off, no use of Y/N, no reader description.

Word count: 490

———

You startle awake to the mattress dipping at your hip, and the weight of a body pressed into your lower back.

Your eyes are still bleary with sleep as you open them facing the metal wall of your bunk on the Crest. The small room is dark with only a faint green glow coming from the door control panel.

Groggily, you fling an arm out and behind you in a feeble attempt to fight off whatever it is that’s still pressed against you. As your hand flies through the air it’s caught by another clad in soft leather, causing you to yelp and at the sudden contact.

Your hear you’re name called from above you. “It’s me, Din.” Came his soothing deep voice.

“Mmm, Din? Your back.” You say, still half asleep.

He sweeps his thumb over your hand and gives it a squeeze to confirm that he is.

Your legs are still facing away from him, but you turn your body around to gaze sleepily at his dark silhouette. You reach your hand out to skim it over the metal contours of Din’s helmet, but when your hand makes contact it’s not cold metal it meets, but soft warm skin and the beginnings of a scratchy beard.

You gasp, pulling your hand away and suddenly feeling wide awake.

“Shit- Din, your helmet!”

Although you couldn’t see the man’s face you didn’t know how he felt about you touching it, and you bite your lower lip, worried you may have just compromised his creed.

“It’s okay, you can’t see me and… I need… this.” Din said.

You could hear now his voice wasn’t modulated, and the sound of his unfiltered gravely tone makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

You reach your hand back up, slowly as to give him a chance to change his mind.

He doesn’t, and as your fingers make contact again, the tips of them weaving through soft curls and your thumb brushing along his cheek, you feel the breath of his sigh skitter down your arm, and feel him lean in to your touch.

You turn fully towards him now, and with your other hand you take his own and gently tug on it, pulling him down and closer to you.

Din obliges and nudges you over so there’s enough room for him to lie down next to you, and once he’s settled you snuggle into his side. His arms wrap around you, and your cheek rests against his chest, your arm stretched over his broad chest as your hand finds its way back to his jawline.

You feel Din relax, listening to his heart beat in his chest, and his breaths evening out. The rhythmic sound begins to lull you back to sleep, but before you can completely drift off you feel the stubble of Din’s chin against your forehead, and his plush lips as he brushes a soft kiss to it.

“Goodnight, mesh’la.”

Edit: read Din’s side of the story here!

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

drabble idea: Loki coming in when you’re completely booked & busy & stressed, and placing your coffee order on your desk. Only thing is you don’t remember ever telling him your order 🥹🫠

“Coffee, Black” 

Summary: In the midst of the busiest time of the year for work, a little kindness goes a long way, even when coming from unexpected places.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader Content Warning: none, just some fluff Word Count: 1.5k

“Yes, dammit, I said the GOLD napkins! Stark says silver is tacky! No, I don’t know what tacky means! Do I look like Karamo Brown??”

You could barely understand English anymore. Tony Stark had set you on the warpath when his usual head event planner went into early labor and had to extend her maternity leave, leaving you, the underling, suddenly in charge of the Stark annual fundraiser’s gala. For days upon days now, you were rushing to finalize details for the big event, only thirty-six hours away now. 

You were normally a decent party planner, at least for small events like parties and showers. This was the Stark Gala. Celebrities would be there. Steve Rogers had made himself nearly sick, practicing for weeks what to say when he met Chris Evans. Rumor was that Tom Holland was planning to propose to Zendaya on the balcony and then announce it to the ballroom. The Stark Gala was THE place to be in the US every year, which meant that every year, Tony had to outdo himself somehow. 

And now it’s complete success or failure was contingent on you, whose biggest achievement only your resume was how you’d planned the Greater Scranton Area Dog Show in a week. You couldn’t even get the napkin colors right.

“Well, I’m sure the richest man on the fucking continent could afford a five-hundred-dollar upcharge for the gold ones! I mean, please!” 

The person on the other end of the line was beginning to sound like the teacher from Peanuts. Meanwhile, you were vaguely conscious of the hapless assistant Tony gave you as an aid, although he was hardly ‘aiding’ you, so much as asking you how to do even the simplest things, only adding to the chaos swimming around you. His name was Rolf Schmedike, but you’d quickly shortened his name to ‘Schmeds” to save time, even if he did protest, saying it sounded like an STD. 

“Um, Y/N?”

“Yeah, Schmeds?” 

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to do about the coffee bar?”

“No. Damn. Coffee. Bar.” you repeated for the third time that day. “Tony wants full table service throughout the night. He says open bars are classless. No bars. No buffets. No problems, okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” He said dimly before leaving you alone in the office. You growled after him, annoyed.

Back on the phone, the napkin people had put you on hold. You put your phone back on the hook, a loud, metallic, vaguely-annoying big band tune coming over the speakers now, making you cringe. 

Maybe I can find those wine invoices before Schmeds bothers me again about which knife goes where on the table settings…

Too late, you thought as you heard the soft steps re-enter the room. You didn’t bother turning around, this time just yelling over your shoulder, “Chrissake, Schmeds, do I have to speak in tongues to you? NO COFFEE BARS!”

Hearing no replies from him, you sighed in relief as you thumbed through a drawer, finding several bills and invoices, extracting them, and then putting them on the desk to roll around in later, when the inevitable mental breakdown hit in approximately two minutes. You reached over to where your large, black coffee sat by the phone, fresh and piping hot, quickly picking it up and taking a precious sip of the hot liquid, letting its warmth revitalize you before putting it down and turning back to the file cabinet. 

Wait a  damn minute…

You hadn’t gotten coffee this morning. You’d been too busy. 

You paused, gaslighting yourself and trying to pinpoint the moment your mind obviously blocked out: when you’d ordered something, because you’d just absentmindedly taken a sip of your usual, perfectly brewed the specific way you liked it. Oh my god, I’m going insane already…

“I do hope I was correct in recalling that you liked it that way. Flavored salted caramel, nothing else in it, specifically from that little bodega on fifty-ninth street.”

You finally noticed that it wasn’t Schmeds in the doorway, but Loki. Your cheeks immediately went hot as you looked down submissively, a little flustered at the grinning god leaning in your doorway, looking proud of himself. For the most part, the administrators in Stark Tower who’d trained you had insisted that fraternizing with the Avengers was off-limits. They were superheroes! Why would they have any time for “the little people”? 

“It…you were,” was all you managed to say softly. 

Loki smiled, taking that as his signal to come inside. “I apologize for startling you. I assure you, I meant no harm.”

“No harm? This is exactly how I like it,” you said, picking up the cup and taking another sip, being sure to savor the hot, life-sustaining drink this time. “But…I always get my own. How did you--?”

Your new friend grinned wider, mischievously, and you took a reflexive step back. “You read my mind? Without asking?”

Loki pursed his lips playfully, observing how you looked half-apprehensive, half-turned on. “Oh, I get the feeling that if I were to do such a thing, it wouldn’t exactly be visions of hot coffee in your mind right now.”

Woooooord.

You were never able to observe the Avengers close-up, other than Tony, your boss, and occasionally Bruce Banner, who preferred handing you different documents to be filed himself. Loki was the first one of the team who’d given you the pleasure of his direct attention, and it was already becoming a pleasure. You were already drinking in how tight his suit was, how his hair was beautifully tousled about his face, how his teeth were a work of supernatural art. 

And he’d brought you coffee. 

“I…well…uh…”

“Perhaps we could start with a ‘thank you’?” he suggested. “You seem to be slightly at a loss for words, dear.”

You nodded quickly, taking another sip. “Thank you, Mr. Lau--Laufeys--”

He shook his head and put a hand up. “Loki is all I require.” 

You finally mustered a smile and grateful nod. “Thank you, Loki.”

“And for your information, as much as I would love to penetrate your mind and fill it with tempting thoughts of myself, I did not read your mind without your permission,” he explained. “Your underling out there…the little man…he let it slip in conversation.” 

You wanted to know why your drink preferences were the topic of discussion around the water cooler without your knowledge, but it was so easy to be distracted again as Loki closed the gap between you, eventually leaving a few mere inches between you. 

“Why would you care about me and my coffee?” you asked. “We’ve never met.”

Loki shrugged. “Sometimes even I can’t explain my madness,” he mused with a wink. “Or perhaps I had a motive in mind that only you could satisfy.”

You felt your cheeks go hot as you looked into his eyes. “Um…uh…and that is…?”

“My brother is going to this gala event with that scientist he is so fond of, Jane,” Loki explained. “The others all have escorts, and Stark doesn’t want me to be the only one unspoken for at the event. He said something about rich bastards liking symmetry.” 

You giggled. “That sounds like him.” 

“Therefore, consider the drink an offering,” he continued. “Out of all of the eligible people in these offices, you’re the only one who is worthy of my arm, so would you give me the privilege of being my companion to the soiree tomorrow?” 

You smiled warmly. “Well, while I still have no idea why you;ve set your sights on me, I suppose I could indulge you for one evening.” 

Loki smiled, this time bringing up a hand, as if to place it on your cheek, but he stopped himself, stepping back instead, leaving you slightly disappointed. “Perhaps I should save the best for later,” he said, turning to go. “I’ll leave you to your work now, but I will be here at 6 tomorrow evening if you can be ready then.” 

You nodded. “Yes, Mr….Loki.”

Loki purred. “Mr. Loki,” he chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll let you call me that in bed one day…” he said before smoothly making his exit. 

Taking another sip of coffee, your mind immediately switched gears. Work? Work?! What was this ‘work’??

The hold music cut off, and the static dregs of a woman’s voice replaced it. “Hello? Hello?” You mindlessly picked up the receiver and hung up, ending the call. 

Who had time for napkins? You had a dress to find!

@lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @holdmytesseract @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @joyful-enchantress @silverfire475 @trickster-maiden

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

In the Afton’d Reader AU, there’s a buncha small context things that make everyone’s descent, especially Sun and Moon’s, a lot sadder and maybe help it make more sense?

Example, Sun and Moon had to wait for MONTHS to see you again after the accident.

Their last image of you was you on a stretcher, surrounded by medics, covered in tears and so much blood, and the last they heard from you was your sobbing pleas of “wait, wait, I can’t go yet, don’t let them take my hands” as you were dragged away.

First you’re in the hospital, getting treatments and surgeries and spending days drifting in and out of a painful daze and then more surgeries and struggling to recover. Then you have to spend weeks upon weeks struggling through agonizing physical therapy, frustrated and scared and desperate. Then there’s more time where the doctors won’t clear you fit to be out in the world, ‘what if this, there could still be a chance of that, maybe x y z could still happen’ and on and on and on...

And this whole time Sun and Moon are completely in the dark about EVERYTHING. They ask the temporary daycare shift workers about you nearly every day, desperate for some kind of news about you, how you’re doing, when will you be back, ANY kind of update about you and your condition and if you miss them as much as they miss you. All of the answers they get are vague, at first just ‘what? Oh, yeah, I heard they’re in the hospital’ and little else, then eventually it devolves into ‘who? The old mechanic? I don’t know, I never heard about ‘em.’

And they keep waiting. They just know you’ll come back, you HAVE to, you were their wonderful darling starlight, their precious sunshine, and they were your charming nightlight, your sweet buttercup, you can’t have just abandoned them, you can’t have, you loved them too much.

There’s no way you were staying away on purpose. Maybe you just needed so much time to get all healed up and good as new! Maybe you HAD lost your hands and had to learn how to use prosthetics (they could’ve helped, if only they were there, they could help you learn and practice and they could have soothed the pain and wiped away your tears...). Maybe, as the days and weeks and months dragged on, maybe FazCo was keeping you away for some stupid, irrational, absolutely cruel reason.

And then you come back! They’ve never been so happy to see anyone and their processors fill with static and all of their wires feel tangled and messy and they know that if they could cry they would be sobbing with relief, with heartache, with love, and they hold onto you for hours, as tightly as they can without causing any discomfort, and whenever you need to step away or get up or leave they hold tighter, they don’t want to let you go, not ever ever ever again.

And they know that they would do anything to make sure they never had to lose you like that again. At first they know that that’s an irrational thought, that there will be things out of their control that may keep you away from them... but that only strengths the fear of losing you, the paranoia and the desperation to keep you closer, closer, closer.

They know they love you, and that you love them, and love means being together, indefinitely and infinitely.

[vldsideblog]

Today I offer you my kinda shitty first attempt at writing Klance. Take it I guess.

Warnings for: non graphic vomit, let me know if there’s anything else

Stupid space virus, stupid alien genetics, stupid stupid stupid.

Keith held back a violent sneeze as he hacked at the gladiator bot in front of him. Each clang of metal on metal embedding itself into his already throbbing skull.

Two days ago Voltron had been called on for some planetary relief, it was supposed to be an easy, low stakes mission. And for the most part it had been. Lots of passing out supplies and treating various injuries and illnesses. Keith’s first aid skills had been greatly appreciated and he was grateful for a quieter day. But of course he couldn’t have one good thing in his damned life. Cause apparently he’d somehow been passed some random galran virus.

When the team had gotten back to the castle Keith had immediately crashed. Passing out in his bed before even taking off his jacket. And the next morning when he woke up with a raging headache and almost immediately threw up he knew something was wrong.

He tried to suck it up, but after a violent coughing fit during the breakfast that he had been reluctantly dragged to by Shiro, the beans were spilled and he would have to deal with the lectures about self care and health from his brother.

Much to his surprise though the others also seemed to be on the ‘give a shit about Keith’ train, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet. So instead of being restless and miserable in bed stewing in his thoughts, Keith decided to do something familiar, fight.

But unfortunately the restless thoughts and misery followed him onto the training deck, and he was now at the mercy of his malfunctioning body.

The teen was unsure of how long he’d been training, each level was taking longer than usual with his exhausted limbs and foggy mind, and he was now fully on the defensive instead of the offensive. Pathetic.

Worry’s and questions clogged his ears, and rumbled in his stomach. Why is everyone concerned? Are they faking it? Do they think I’m some weak kid to pity? How long will this last? If I’m not on top of things people could get hurt, it’ll be my fault if something happens. I’m the fighter, I’m supposed to be the last to break. But here I am, worthless again.

Then the gladiator landed an unfortunate hit to his already upset stomach, shocking him out of his spiral. Bile ripped up his burning throat. Keith managed to strike down the bot just before he fell to his knees and began dry heaving. Spit clung to his cracked lips as he curled into himself on the cold floor.

He rolled onto his side clutching at his stomach, the movement causing the drum in his head to crescendo in an agonizing throbbing. Maybe I should just lay here for a while, then I can get back to practice. Yeah, just a little breather. This is nothing.

-

Lance had just been trying to enjoy the quiet afternoon, last battle he’d ended up in a tricky situation with close combat, and he was planning to get some practice in with the gladiator. But as he entered through the sliding doors his heart rate immediately spiked at the sight of the red paladin curled up on the floor.

His black shirt was damp with sweat, and from the entrance Lance could see a tear in the fabric. As he rushed forward and slid on his knees he was able to take in his teammates' face. Dark raven hair stuck to his forehead, eyes pinched shut, and mouth pulled back into a grimace.

The blue tinted lights washing out Keith’s skin, leaving him pale and ashy.

“Ummmm, buddy, you good?” Lance asked hesitantly, honestly he wasn’t sure what he should say. He’d never seen Keith beat down, and it scared him. Of course he knew the guy had some weird space cold or something, but they all thought he was getting some rest. Guess we should’ve known better, this is Keith afterall. Not exactly the best at following orders.

Bringing him back into the moment Keith huffed quietly, and peeked open his eyes only to squeeze them back shut immediately.

“I will take that as a no,” Lance answered his own question in a low voice. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

Keith grunted from his place in the floor, “Don’t like sit’n ‘round.” His accent strengthened by the end of his statement.

Lance shook his head, of fucking course Keith wouldn’t actually do what was best for him. He’s a stubborn bastard like that.

“How about we get you out of here, you should probably lay down.”

“Mmnn” grumbled Keith, obviously not happy about this entire situation.

“What if we went to the lounge, and I turned down the lights and we watched one of those weird Altean nature documentaries?”

“Fine, if you keep the noise down.”

“Deal.”

-

After a ridiculously long walk to the lounge (that was more of a slow shuffle because Keith was too stubborn to let Lance help him walk) Keith dropped down onto the circular couch and crossed his arms in a very Keith-like fashion.

“Lights to twenty percent” Lance called out, and the blue glow dimmed immediately, shifting the mood of the room drastically. The living area now felt like a calming cave, a safety blanket from the chaos of war.

Lance sat himself down a few feet from Keith and started scrolling through the various videos downloaded to the castle’s memory. Eventually settling on one that seemed to be about some weird lizard-like creature with orange scales and a curved beak. When he turned his attention back to his teammate, Keith’s eyes were closed, head tilted to the side. The exhaustion from that training must have gotten to him. He never falls asleep in front of people.

As the documentary played silently Lance couldn’t help but admire Keith’s face. The curve of his jaw, his feathery hair still plastered against his forehead, the dark scattering of moles, a small scar going up his jaw. He was beautiful. It wasn’t the first time Lance had been in awe of the red paladin, but he’d never seen Keith so soft. His brow wasn’t furrowed in frustration, his dark eyes weren’t piercing into his soul.

Lance let him rest, deciding to ping Shiro about the situation knowing Keith’s brother figure would be glad to know where he was and that he was getting some much needed sleep.

The reply didn’t take long.

S- Do you need me to come watch him? Is he okay?

L- He’s fine right now, just getting some shuteye. I don’t mind sitting with him for a while.

S- Okay if you’re sure.

L- I’m sure.

S- Thanks Lance, I appreciate it. I’ll come by in an hour or two with some food.

L- Thanks Shiro.

S- No problem.

Lance set down his tablet and reached for the throw blanket that was bunched up on the floor. Pidge must’ve been working in here earlier.

Lance tossed the blanket over a sleeping Keith and focused his attention once more on the documentary.

Turns out Keith was kinda cute when he wasn’t trying to fight someone every five seconds.

[melminli]

phone time

summery - you and satoru have been together for a long time now, like really long. next week marks your nine year anniversary, actually, and your friends think that it's a bit weird that you two are not doing anything special on that day.

contains: fem reader, fluff/crack, utahime being in your business, gossip, meimei hate, suggestive joke at the end

"we were thinking about going shopping with mei mei this weekend, you want to come with us?" utahime asked you as you stepped into the living room after leaving the kitchen. it took you a second to answer her, as your attention was focused on the tray in your hands. you really didn't want to risk one of the three cups of hot coffee spilling over and doing a mess. as well as getting a third-degree burn.

when the tray finally touched the small table, you got around to answering. "i don't know. i've been spending too much money lately." you admitted, making yourself comfortable on the soft carpet. sitting across from the sofa also helped the conversation flow more smoothly. "i would still come just to hang out with you guys, but you know i don't like meimei that much..."

shoko was about to add something when gojo interrupted her. "you can just take my card, you know. and meimei isn't much of a talker anyway. you should go if you feel like it." he suggested from his position on the pastel pink armchair. "you can also go to starbucks together. they should have pumpkin space latte on the menu again now that it's fall."

you thought about the proposal once more at his argument while holding your cup in your hands. the girls on the other side sent disgusted looks to the man. even though he spoke in their favor, they weren't really interested in hearing his input. "and why are you still here? i thought you told your crusty boyfriend to leave for a few hours." utahime complained to you.

"and i did." you replied and sensed the mean looks he gave you when you didn't correct her after she described him as crusty. you just shook your head to signal him that she didn't know what she was talking about. "weren't you gonna meet up with suguru?" you asked him, looking in his direction.

i can't believe i'm getting kicked out of my own place. he leaned a little deeper in his seat at that thought, but didn't really mind since it was you who asked him to. he wasn't really authorized to participate in girl talk and was, to be honest, a bit butt hurt about it. he would do anything to participate in a session. "we are. that asshole is running late, so i would be very grateful if you ladies could show me some mercy and let me wait inside since it's like two degrees outside."

you raised an eyebrow at his wording and spoke up with a grin after taking a sip. "what's the matter, elsa? can't handle the cold?"

satoru just rolled his eyes. "i can't wait until it starts snowing. doesn't it ever get boring? making the same jokes over and over again."

you pretended to give his question serious thought until you finally answered. "no, not really."

utahime watched the interaction between you with a furrowed brow. "i can't believe you two are a couple." she finally said, abruptly changing the subject. "you just don't act coupley at all."

shoko disagreed. "what does that even mean? they've been together for like forever."

it felt a little strange to gojo that she was kind of supportive of your relationship right now. she wasn't really, but it felt that way to him, and he was happy about it and agreed with her. "exactly. that is a heavy accusations you're throwing in the room, that i'm not going to tolerate. i would literally die for my girlfriend, which is like the bare minimum, i know. but still." he spoke in a completely serious voice.

you hummed in support of him. "yeah, i mean men are meant to die in war anyway, so it's good that you know."

there. you guys were doing it again. "that's what i'm talking about. nothing about how you behave with each other is romantic in the slightest way." she said, a little disappointed. "i've also never seen you kiss or heard that you're going on dates. i mean, do you even have anything planned for your anniversary?" she continued to enumerate, getting seriously worried.

you didn't take her worry serious since you did all these things in private. you just preferred it that way. "we live together, and we spend a lot of quality time together. just because we don't call everything a date doesn't mean we never do anything as a couple." you retorted, and satoru supported what you said with adding period. "i've been a little lazy lately due to it getting so cold again, and i don't feel like doing anything extravagant because it just mentally exhausts me on top with work. so we'll probably just chill and have some phone time in the evening." you answered her question about your anniversary. maybe you would get satoru a little gift like flowers. yeah, he liked getting flowers. you mentally made a note to look on the internet for some with a nice meaning.

shoko repeated questioningly. "phone time?" somehow, she imagined it to be something very strange.

"yeah, you know." satoru began, although the two had no idea what you two were talking about. "lying in bed. scrolling on social media - mostly tiktok. showing funny or stupid videos to each other and laughing about it."

you raised an index finger to add. "or cat videos." you reminisced about some silly trends in the past. "i kind of miss dabloon cat..."

so the two are just some sort of ipad kids.

"that's pretty weird, actually. you two are weird." said utahime in conclusion, not knowing what else to say.

you just rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your coffee. "last time i checked, you were single."

a sigh escaped her at the remark. "well, i can't argue against that. my dating life has been drier than a desert lately..."

at that, a slight giggle escaped satoru's lips, reminding you all that he was indeed still present in the room. "you know what's not dry after i - "

"satoru."

"what? just because she doesn't see us kiss doesn't mean that we don't do it."

[wisteriagoesvroom]

my first foray into galex - thank you for the prompt from the f1 wild side discord!

a galex drabble written from the following prompts: morning, window and cat. with the tone: content

--------------------------

Alex wakes to a terrible screech. It sounds like someone’s dying, or losing a tooth, or both. Bleary eyed, he drags himself out of the bed, kicking off half the covers off as he goes. When he makes his way to the hallway, George stands there, shoulders hunched. His morose expression is a jarring contrast to his fluffy bathrobe.

“What happened?” 

“Gucci.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Alright. Gucci, as in resident menace, knocked the plates over.” 

Alex surveys the damage. It doesn’t look too bad, though whatever was on the plates - pancakes, from the looks of things, seem to be splashed halfway across the floor. 

His partner seems worse for wear.

“Typical ginger cat behaviour. Are you fine, though?” Alex asks. 

George nods, eyes all watery. Mouth pinched in a straight line, perfectly English of him, barely held together by his own tightly wound composure. He’s always been this way, since the days they’d been karting. Heart on his sleeve, feelings like rainclouds at the end of races.

Alex has seen him at his best and his worst, been there to hug him close or listen to him babble on about mechanical failures that were perfectly avoidable. Even let George drone for two hours with a PowerPoint on ways he could reform the GPDA for better driver solidarity until Alex had cut him off with a “you’re kind of sexy when you’re mansplaining to me. Even if I’m a man, and all”. Which had stopped George so short that he didn’t have anything to say for almost an entire minute.  

What happened after that was just natural, really. They'd clambred into each other's drivers rooms, held hands furtively at afterparties, kissed in the shadows of locations as exotic as Monaco and mundane as Milton Keynes. This was to none of the grid’s surprise, having seen their friendship blossom over the years, now into something else. Friends, however distant, who helped to guard their secret until they were ready.

“Today was supposed to be perfect.” George says, tugging Alex back to the present. It’s been two years since. Two good ones. 

George pinches his nose . “Christ, this is a disaster."

“We talked about this. No self-flagellating in the new year.”

“Right. Yeah. It’s just–”

Alex takes the other man’s hands. They’re large, and warm. Slender fingers roughened with callouses from gripping the wheel, capable hands for a capable man.

This close, George smells faintly like berries. Affection flutters in Alex’s stomach.

“We'll just start it over. It'll be fine, Georgie."

"I just wanted it to be perfect."

"Hey. This is my perfect. This is it, mate. You know that, right?”

George nods, softening under Alex’s touch. 

“Besides.” Alex continues. “It’s a little hard to take you seriously when your apron says do I look delicious. Which for the record, you do.”

George wipes his nose with the back of his hand, eyes darting down and up again. “You bought this, mind you.”

“I did.”

“And you love it. And me.”

“Yeah. I do.”

Alex pokes George in the side playfully, and George rolls his eyes. Attention diverted for the moment, smile finally back and starting to warm his eyes.

"Such an arsehole." George says, glancing at Gucci, who is walking calmy across the kitchen counter. Happily acting as if nothing has happened.

"I know. But he's our arsehole."

"Never say those words in that combination again."

"Our arsehole." Alex adds, emphatically.

To that, George only emits a long sigh.

And there is cleanup to come. Breakfast to be made again. But just for a moment, it’s the two of them. Spilled pancakes. Patience. tender love.

A miscreant tabby that happily suns itself under the window. 

Two of their hands perfectly intertwined. Room perfectly incandescent.

[issacballsac]

GET IT, QUICKLY!

2:23 A.M.

Leo would RARELY awake you at such an early time, as they would never want to disturb your peaceful rest.

Yet there they stood stalking your sleeping form with shaken eyes.

“There’s a bug.” Leo spilled as your eyes adjusted to their stiff form.

Despite Leo’s great strength the one thing that rivaled them was bugs. In reality anything with ‘abnormal’ features had terrified them.

Planting your feet on the icy cold tiles of the bathroom floor you pursued onwards. Armored with dual sandals and Leo following close behind with a small can of RAID.

Their anxious voice shooting out. “IT’S ON THE CEILING!” Bringing your sights to the roof of the room you saw it.

An average sized insect, brown in colour with two sets of wings. “What the fuck is that, Leo?”

“I don’t know! Just kill it, please!” The shaking of the spray can in their hands did little as Leo had been too afraid to use it.

After a moment of planning you shifted to them. “Okay, so, you’re going to spray it and when it falls I’ll whack it.” Hesitantly nodding their head, Leo gained the courage and aimed the can towards the invader.

Kshhh

With the newly present gas floating about the air the bug fell from the ceiling.

“GET IT, QUICKLY!” Leo shrieked jumping to your side instinctively.

With a swift swing, the o’ so terrifying insect became no more. It’s twitching legs signifying your triumph.

A sigh of relief escaped Leo’s lips as the bug spray fell to the floor with a ping.

“Thank you.” They curtly let out as you stumbled back to sleep.

[bunni-writing-desk]

Can I request a Patrick Stump x Reader where the reader wants to learn how to play drums? Patrick notices them struggling and wants to help. Make it fluffy and flirty? THANK YOU!

ooooo thank you so much for this request I love it! (also sorry is Patrick is a little off I couldn't figure out how to write him as flirty for the life of me)

Learning Drums

Patrick Stump x gn!reader

tags: no major warnings, fluffy silly, established relationship, light flirting from Patrick kinda, could be any era, reminded me of that one time Patrick played the drums for MCR

The dusty basement in your house held so much stuff, things from Patrick and things from you, so it was no wonder you had found one of your boyfriend's old drum kits. A pair of drumsticks sat atop the seat, obviously left there for a while since a layer of dust covered them. A thought crossed your mind, questioning why this one was in the basement when Patrick had another perfectly fine kit upstairs in his practice room. You shrugged it off though, it might be something sentimental or there just in case his current one breaks.

The more you stared at it the more you thought about it, when you were younger you had always wanted to learn the drums but the kits were always far too expensive for you. The want to learn the instrument had died after the years, and you had been satisfied listening to Patrick play them instead, but now you had a moment to learn on your own.

So you brushed the dust off the seat and grabbed the drumsticks, holding them above one of the drums. Suddenly and quickly you hit the drum, nearly letting go of the drumstick because of the force. You gasped and looked at the thin plastic on the top to make sure you hadn't dented it, luckily it looked completely fine.

Something you hadn't expected was for Patrick to hear you all the way upstairs in the living room. The sound of the basement door creaking open startled you, making you jump in your seat slightly. "Y/n? What are you doing?" You could see that your boyfriend was squinting, trying to see where you were in the dim basement.

"Just... trying to play the drums?" You posed your sentence as more of a question, now second guessing yourself as to why you did this. Patrick stared into the darkness for a few seconds before audible sighing and chuckling. He flipped on the light and made his way down the stairs, walking over to the front of the dusty drum kit that you were sitting at.

"Did you want help?" The grin on his face compared to the Cheshire cat, smug and self-assured. Just that by itself made you flustered, stumbling over your words as you tried to respond.

"Uhm- Yeah, I- I was gonna figure it out by my - uh- by myself but yknow- I could always use the uhm help?" Your face went warm as Patrick giggled at your reaction. He motioned for you to get up and stand to the side, instead of taking your place on the seat.

"Come're" He pulled one of the drumsticks from your grip and held your hand. He quickly pulled you down onto his lap, almost startling you. "You were just using too much downward force with too light a grip, makes it sound strange." Patrick put the drumsticks back in you hand but continued to hold your wrists.

He lead your hand down to the mid tom drum and hit it once, making a much better sound than the first time you tried. "See? You just needed a little help huh, babe" You could feel the heat on your cheeks from the embarrassment flare up again.

"Shut it, 'Trick" You mumbled through your teeth, trying to prevent him from hearing just how flustered you were. You slammed your foot down on the pedal, hitting the bass drum loudly.

Patrick only laughed and wrapped his arms around your torso. "Woah there tiger, don't get ahead of yourself!"

"Teach me then!" You managed out through laughter.

"I am!"

[dannidorina]

I have to cut another bit from fic bc I'm taking an entirely different angle, so take a soft Miguel x MJ (PBM&Ms) scene that I cannot use anymore! Bc I DONT JUST WANT TO DELETE ITTTT

--

“I think you brought him back, too.” There are no more tears in her eyes, but her words still ache with sadness even through a smile. “The optimist in Peter—the one that’s full of love to share—is back. I can’t thank you enough for that. And I can’t thank you enough for being there for me and for my daughter. You really are kind, Miguel.”

Miguel’s nose twitches. He can feel the familiar itch and sting of tears threatening to escape behind his eyes, but they won’t come. They never do, anymore. But he can still show her in other ways how much her words have touched him, Miguel leans forward and kisses her once again. This time, less passioned, but deeper and lovingly. He moves his hand from her cheek and guides her neck closer to him until he’s hugging her so tightly. She’s so small in his arms, he can fully encompass her. At that moment, Miguel feels so powerful—like he’s hugging the sun itself.