#paperweight drabbles

[paperweight91]

A scenario prompt: waking up in a warm embrace, soft lips pressing along your bare shoulder and throat…

But make it soft!dark 😈

Idk why…but lately every time I see soft!dark I see…

Your drawn from your sleep by the feel of fingers trailing along your calf, lips follow the movement. It all feels so nice, so warm. You hum your encouragement, as you lounge for a few more minutes between awake and asleep. The touch drifts higher until finally kissing along your bare shoulder, while a hand wraps around your throat from behind.

It’s then that you stiffen with the dawning horror of what is happening. There is a man in your bed, that you have no memory of bringing there.

His grip on your throat tightens enough to stop your voice as you open your mouth to scream. Your hands scramble to scratch at his hand, but you may as well be encouraging him, for all it does.

“Shhhh doll, no need for that.” You whimper as you recognize the voice. Captain America. The star-spangled-man-with-a-plan. What could he possibly want with you?

You squeaked as you tried to form words, and he loosened his grip slightly to allow them to pass your lips. “I don’t understand…what’s going on?” You tried to turn your face to look at him but the hand on your throat tightened again in warning.

“Honey, I’ve been keeping an eye on you. And you really haven’t been taking care of yourself.” He tsked at you like you were a small child. “I’m here to make your life easier, our life easier.”

He stated it as if you were together. You’d think you’d remember if you were dating Steve Rogers. You’d only met the man once, when he had gone to the charity gala your work was hosting. As an employee you had made sure to greet all of the VIP guests, including Steve, but clearly he’d made more of the brief exchange than you did.

You tried again to turn to face him, this time he didn’t resist your movements, less fearful of you running. It was only as you turned over that you realized you were naked, and so was he. You shook off the fear, and made yourself look him in the eye as you responded, “Why are you in my bed naked?” It came out harsher than you intended. You wanted answers but looking at the man before you, you realized that he was not everything the media portrayed. There was an icy glint in his eye you had never seen before in the press conferences, or the chance encounter at the gala.

He sighed and lovingly stroked your face. In any other circumstance this would have been a moment you had dreamed of. Now all you could hear ringing in your head was “be careful what you wish for.” Steve stroked your cheek one more time before gathering you into his arms, and pulling you close. You could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh. “I told you honey,” he said sweetly, “I’m gonna take care of you. Take all your worries away. Now be good, and let me take care of you.” There was a warning in his tone, that had you stuck.

You always thought, if it came down to it, fight would be your go-to response. But looking at the super soldier staring at you lovingly, you knew now that you could never out fight, or out run this man.

Like someone else was in control of your body, you slowly nodded. There was one thing you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “Why me?”

He chuckled at that, and brought one of his legs up between your own. You felt your body betray you as the wetness formed between your thighs. “You really want to know?” You nodded eager for his reply, as your hips rocked against his thigh without your permission. “Well, when I saw you at the Gala, the way you treated all the guests. I was in awe. You were beautiful, charismatic, and a wonderful host. I couldn’t get you out of my head. I knew you were perfect for me, and the more I watched you, I knew I was perfect for you.”

His hands dropped to your hips and he rolled until he was on his back and you were straddling him. You continued to rock against his thigh, with him now controlling your rhythm.

“So doll, you gonna let me take care of you?” His eyebrow twitched up in question, as a smirk grazed his lips.

You moaned above him, not wholly in control of yourself anymore, having given into the pleasure. “I, I don’t know you.” He laughed at your comment.

“Of course you do, doll. And what you don’t, I’ll show you.” With that he groaned and rolled you both again until you were on your back. He wedged himself between your thighs and kissed his way down your body until he reached your mound. Inhaling deeply, before diving in like a man starved.

You were already so close from riding his thigh that all it took was a few suckles on your clit and a single finger prodding at your pussy before you were moaning out your orgasm.

“There you go don’t you feel better?” He smirked as he gripped his cock and gave a few strokes before crawling back up your body to line himself up. You were so out of it, you didn’t even realize what he was doing, until he was halfway in. He groaned loudly as your walls spasmed around him. You tried to look up at his face, but your vision was swimming, only then did you realize you were crying. “Shh, don’t cry doll, you’re doing so good for me.” He murmured as he bucked his hips sheathing himself in your wet warmth fully.

He wiped the tears from your eyes, and brought his forehead to yours. With anyone else, at any other time you would call this making love. But here, with Steve slowly undulating his hips into yours, the look in his eyes feral, you could only call this possession. You moaned at the thought. Bringing your hips up to meet his thrusts.

At your participation, Steve’s lip twitched and he picked up his pace. His hand dropping to find your clit. The other bracing him over you. You began to thrash as your orgasm approached, fingers biting into his skin. “That’s it doll. I know you’re close. Let go, I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

At Steve’s words electricity shot through your veins and you came with a scream. You clenched around him so hard he rocked into a couple more times before spilling himself in you.

The two of you laid in the afterglow. You cuddled up under his chin and halfway across his chest. He stroked up and down your arm as he held you tightly. In the moments before you fell asleep you thought, it wouldn’t be so bad to let Steve take care of everything.

******

This became a whole thing. And…I love it so much! I hope it’s everything you dreamed of Siri 😏

[rocococoa]

snippet of where hawk and tim going cherry blossom viewing - the two men lounging on a blanket as they watch branches decorated with soft pink colored blossoms sway with the breeze.

tim’s heart skips a beat and he can’t help but laugh at how some of the petals tuck themselves into the curls of hawk’s hair. there’s a slight nip in the air, and from a bag, hawk produces a tumbler of hot coffee, as well as some pastries wrapped in parchment paper. hawk can’t help but take multiple pictures of tim - the young man making goofy poses by the trees (in which a very enamored and sneaky hawk takes an opportunity to pull tim in with his scarf and lay soft kisses onto tim’s flushed cheeks), tim mid-bite into a slice of lemon cake and the crumbs on the side of his lips, tim softly asleep next to him, eyelashes dusting his cheeks as the petals fall around them.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you are jungkook’s religion and he wants to be your passenger princess.

> fluff / wc: 3k

> warnings: there’s like a three second earthworm cameo lol, jk is living his best life in this bicycle date <3

note: i loved writing this + it reminded me of this drabble i suggest reading it too :( pls tell jk to stop being so cute my heart can’t handle it :( oh and imagine the current jungkook with his long hair and pretty bangs btw <3 reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated :]

—

“hmm?” you hum in question when jungkook’s tattooed hand pushes up your elbow. the book you’ve been reading uncovers his head lying on your lap, acting as a paperweight for the pastel yellow summer dress adorning your figure.

“humor me, okay?”

in the midst of his pensive facade, his lips are curved into a lazy smile, almost undetectable if only you aren’t so close that you can vividly see the scar on his cheek and the texture of his honey skin. his face is a little puffy and his eyes are hazy, adorably so, courtesy of the nap he woke up from ten minutes ago.

there are scattered speckles of sunlight painted all over the two of you, in the shape of the gaps between the leaves of the tall tree supporting your back. the wind gently blows through his hair and the edges of the blue gingham picnic blanket spread out beneath you, as if the earth is sighing dreamily at the han riverside scenery.

“would you still love me if i became a worm?”

“what?”

you cover the lower half of your face with the book when a snort bluntly escapes you, and uncontrollable giggles racking your body follow soon after. they prompt the thin strap of your dress to fall off the curve of your right shoulder, and your boyfriend swiftly swoops in, slipping his index finger through it to put it back into position.

“would you still love me if i became a worm?!” he repeats the question louder in faux irritation, but he can’t conceal a toothy grin because your laughter is contagious, a melody that brings him unfathomable joy. an echo that will remind him he was once here, with you, a moment in time locked away in the palace of his most precious memories.

he grasps your wrists to his chest to confront you, and you completely lose your weakened grip on the book. unshed tears gather at the corners of your eyes as your laughter refuses to cease.

“listen- you’re cute, but i need to take the internet away from you.”

his doe eyes grow rounder, whiny voice with a lisp tugging at your heartstrings because you never not find every little thing about him painfully endearing. “baby, stop avoiding the topic. i demand honest answers!”

“of course i would! love doesn’t go away that easily!” you yield to his stubborn need to pry the answers from you. “but it depends on my mood that day, and maybe how you even became a worm in the first place? uh, i’d build you a garden and a little house. oh! and even crochet some cute little outfits for you according to the seasons, keep you warm and safe so you don’t have to hide in the soil . . .”

it’s true that you’ve been dipping your toes into crocheting nowadays, one of your works in progress being a sweater for bam in early preparation for this year’s winter. however, the stars in his eyes ignited by your sweet rambling transform into a dull glimmer of disappointment when he hears the horrifying continuation of your sentence.

“or if it’s a beauty and the beast situation and you got cursed for being bad, then i’d put you in a bucket and go fishing.”

he abruptly sits up, sending your book tumbling down on his lap and . . . you lose your page number just like that.

“fishing? fishing?! isn’t that too harsh? what happened to for better or for worse?” dumbfounded, he frantically shakes his head. “what are you going to say when bam goes looking for his daddy?!”

you tilt your head to the side, highly amused at the man who turned out to only want a sweet response from you despite spitting out the question in a joking manner.

you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. “that you went fishing?”

he pouts somberly, staring into the far distance, where the blue sky stretches endlessly. “bro, you’d expect to know somebody because you live with them and you raise a dog together.”

he heaves a dramatic sigh as he raises both arms to push his hair back, long fingers smoothly gliding across the dark locks. the sleeves of his oversized black t-shirt bunch around his shoulders to reveal more of the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm, but then his bangs fall back into place like dominoes, and he does it all over again.

“oh, my baby. come on.” you inch closer to hug his waist, planting a kiss on his cheek before leaning your chin on his shoulder. “you’re really just going to ignore the garden and crochet part?”

he overtly ignores your words with a scoff, but he puts a hand over your interlocked ones so he won’t slip out of your embrace as he reaches out for a stick among the lush green grass. your loud gasp beside his ear makes him snicker as he scoops up the earthworm that has crawled dangerously close to his white and washed denim nike air jordans. aside from the cover of ‘the seven husbands of evelyn hugo’ hovering above his face, he was also greeted by this unwordly creature when he woke up from his nap. still sluggish as his body and brain gradually recovered to their full functions, he quietly watched it crawl around the spacious picnic blanket, half out of his mind. well, that was until he got bored.

“go- you need to go. get away from here and travel far where you won’t be found. you’re not safe in this place!” he cries out with his roleplay mode turned on, garnering a weird look from a passerby.

“that’s not far away. at all.” you remark teasingly as he gently sets it down behind the tree, less than two feet away.

“i only showed it a new direction. it can manage on its own. the lessons in life are sprinkled along the treacherous journey.” he scrunches his nose as he chuckles, placing back the stick exactly where he found it. “okay, i’m awake! let’s go ride a bike now!”

“i’m already on chapter 40, though.” you sadly mumble to yourself, having enjoyed the inner peace that enveloped you a while ago, when you finally overcame your month-long reading slump with the meditative aid of nature’s generous spring.

your arms automatically drop down to your sides when he energetically springs up in excitement. he picks up the handwoven picnic basket, opening one of the lids and pushing aside the emptied lunch boxes to safely tuck your book inside.

“baaabe, move.”

“huh?” he makes a noise of confusion when he feels the fabric get tugged underneath his feet. “oh- right, wait.”

he walks backwards at your command, allowing you to remove the rest of the picnic blanket off the grass. he patiently waits as you fold it into half, and half, and half, until it becomes small enough to fit in the basket he’s holding open.

he’s been unable to keep his eyes off you since this morning— glancing, looking, admiring your facial features and the way your eyebrows furrow in the slightest when you’re focused on a task (he doesn’t think you know this at all); down to your neck, and your chest exposed by the low square neckline of your dress. you were pouting in the car because you forgot to wear a necklace, exclaiming ‘i knew i forgot something!’ but he thinks your bare skin under the sunlight is priceless compared to gold. he loves your legs in shorts, dresses, skirts; hell, his boxers— loves how you carry yourself with grace and finesse wherever you go. past the walls he built around his heart, didn’t have to make them crumble because you are the key.

his lips have touched every inch of your body a couple million times that it has become more of a religion, putting mere familiarity into shame.

he puts down the basket on the grass after you slip the blanket inside, whispering a tender “baby, come here,” as he guides you towards the tree, pinning your back on it.

“why?” you gape at him in curiosity, hands grasping at his hips because you unconsciously trust jungkook to keep you steady more than a tree deeply rooted in the earth.

“the straps won’t stop falling off. i’ll fix it.” now that he’s speaking in a hushed tone, you can hear the roughness around the edges of his voice caused by sleep.

he deliberately towers over you to shield you from strangers’ eyes, pulling at the strings wrapped around your right shoulder to undo the ribbon sitting on top of it. he maintains a secure grip, wary of the neckline of your dress sliding further down as he makes a knot, and then another to finish off the ribbon.

you gaze at him lovingly, an affectionate smile lighting up your face. sometimes you forget how attentive your boyfriend is. you confess that you meant to tie the straps a little loosely, but you didn’t intend for them to fall off so often.

“thank you.”

he responds to your lively chirp with a kiss on the lips, your mixed berries flavored lip balm staining his. his tongue instantaneously darts out to give it a taste, the mole under his bottom lip making an appearance as he separates the straps of your tote bag from the second pair of strings.

the wind blows once more, three times stronger than the last, and jungkook tightly twists the strings around his two longest fingers as he waits for it to pass. you squeeze your eyes shut, forehead colliding with his chest to hide from the dust that could potentially blind you.

the wind eases, and he clicks his tongue as he continues fixing your dress, repeating the same steps with thoughtful precision. the back of his hands graze your skin every now and then, soft and smooth from the skincare products he smears on them to apply to his face.

“ah, this is insane. good thing we already had lunch before it got this windy.”

“i kind of love it. the earth feels so alive.”

your breath hitches when he ducks down to press a chaste kiss on where your neck and shoulder meet. the warmth of his lips contrasts the coldness of the ring pierced at the corner of his mouth. the intimate sound chimes in your ear, the sensation sending tingles to your lower abdomen.

“mhmm, know you do. you always see the good in things.” in me, the words he wants to add hang unbalanced on the tip of his tongue.

—

by the time you decide that you want to rent an electric scooter instead of a bicycle, jungkook is already paddling towards you while wheeling one by his side.

he enthusiastically shouts, “let me be the passenger princess today!”

and a wave of flashbacks from two years ago wash over you as he draws nearer— when he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into eight tortorous days of teaching you how to ride a bicycle because you forgot how to. you’d expect him to take that as a very telling sign not to ride one with you, but the man standing infront of you seems enraptured by the idea alone.

“sure, but give me a kiss first.” you bat your eyelashes coyly, and he doesn’t waste time in granting your request. he pulls your face closer by the back of your neck, lips crashing against yours for a kiss that robs the air from your lungs. and what a heavenly way to die.

“happy? or more?” he raises an eyebrow flirtatiously.

“greedy boy.” you scold him, lightly pushing his cheek to the opposite direction, and he dryly chuckles at your choice of words. fuck, you know him too well.

“you carry this, love.” you transfer the basket hanging on your forearm to his tattooed one, and your thumb briefly skims across the indents on your skin left by the pattern of the handles.

“i thought you wanted to ride one yourself, though?”

“changed my mind when i saw there’s a backseat.” he sticks out his tongue playfully, laying hold of your tote bag and putting it in the basket between the handles infront.

you roll your eyes as you climb on the seat, putting one foot on the pedal and anchoring the other on the asphalt road. you release a heavy sigh. “made myself all pretty today not knowing i’ll end up sweaty and gross.”

“aish! my butt! it hurts!” his moans and grunts of pain are accompanied by cackles as he shifts on the metal seat behind you. once he deems himself comfortable enough, he wraps his arms around your waist for . . . hopefully, obvious safety reasons. “damn, okay. there we go. i’m ready. sweep me off my feet, baby.”

you swat his hand lightly. “be careful what you wish for.”

“you’re cute when you try to be mean.” he squeezes your sides as an alternative for your cheeks.

“aren’t you scared that i might drive us off into the river? not even a little bit?!”

instead of pressuring you into not making an uncalculated mistake, he simply says “so what? i can swim.”

—

“shit, shit, shit! i feel like i’m falling! b-babe- are you doing this on purpose now?!” jungkook erupts into another fit of childlike giggles and high-pitched squeals as you glide across a curve and the bicycle tilts slightly to the side. your hips occassionally rises from the seat so you can push down at the pedals with more effort, spurring moments of him loosely clinging to you.

“maybe? you enjoy stuff like this!” you grin mischievously to yourself.

his long legs are starting to feel sore from having to keep them lifted off the ground, but this is infinitely better than putting them on either side of the bicycle and risking the possibility of getting his balls smushed. besides, he is enamored by the fact that he is face-to-face with the perfect view of the dancing trees, the babbling river, and the bustling city life on the opposite side.

he taps the circle button on his phone screen to end the panorama, swiping to the left to switch to a video. he allows the camera to capture the rest of the beautiful scenery before flipping it to the front.

“i’m having so much fun! i’m never sitting at the front of the bike again- never!” he yells at the reflection of himself, hair covering almost his entire face. the sight makes him laugh heartily. “ay, i look ridiculous with the wind slapping my face. fuck, what is this? my hair- it’s driving me crazy-”

he aggressively shakes his head to get them out of the way, regretting not tying up his hair before you took off.

“then what about me?! i’m fighting against it!” you yell back, squinted eyes persevering the ruthless gusts of wind. the only difference is that you can feel it sweeping through your hair, through your dress, as if you’re soaring and you’re free, not running away but heading somewhere.

“but you’re going to enjoy it when we go back and it’s behind you! trust me!”

this is the first time jungkook is the bicycle passenger since god knows when. he doesn’t remember it being this marvelous, thrilling in its most wholesome form. meanwhile, this is the first time you’re riding a bicycle with a passenger. perhaps you made the same mistake you kept on making two years ago: kicking your feet as if you’re in a race, thinking speed equals to balance. he had to remind you to calm down, slow down, stop looking down all over again. that was at the first minute. your anxieties have been long gone, quelled by your boyfriend’s sheer delight radiating for miles and miles. his happiness is a bubble expanding in size as the wind blows relentlessly.

his phone is returned to the confines of his deep pocket after he deems himself satisfied with the memories he recorded in the device. he properly hugs your waist again, resting his head on the expanse of your back, thin cotton against the apple of his cheek. his heavy eyelids flutter shut. he breathes in, chest rising and pushing against the tough handles of the basket hanging pretty on his forearm, and he breathes out. with his sense of sight idle, it almost feels like you’re flying him to outer space.

“jungkook, you better not fall asleep there. i’m serious.” you sternly remind him, panic meter going up when you notice more of his weight gradually limping against yours.

“yah! you- i love you; i won’t do that to you. don’t be scared.” he chuckles, heart swelling with fondness for the concern lacing your voice.

you melt at his charming reassurance. “i love you too.”

“nyam.”

“did you just bite me?” you whip your head to the back in suspicion when you feel a faint sting blossoming on your shoulder.

he innocently looks at the bite mark he left on your skin, and when he tilts up his chin to catch a glimpse of your face, your eyes have already refocused on the bicycle path. ”i did . . . you taste like what i imagine the sunshine would taste.”

“is that a good thing?”

“yeah, good. like honey.”

“thank my body wash for that.” you giggle, and jungkook yearns to see your face, but he shall marvel at the rows of pink and white flowers approaching ahead in the meantime.

“no, that’s not it.” a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he corrects you in a voice so soft it almost breaks. “it’s you. just you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added or removed :D

—

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

"Everyone Loves Sylvie" A Sylvie/Loki Drabble

Oh no, Sylvie can't find the perfect place to have her perfect wedding! Just another wacky day in the life of the MCU's Strongest Woman...or is it?

Pairing: Sylki Content Warning: Sylvie may not be awesome enough in this, I tried! Word Count: a number

Optional Reader Participation: Every time an asterisk (*) appears, play THIS SOUND BITE

Mrs. Anita Aycock was doing everything she could to keep her calm around the irritable woman throwing brochures and paperweights, but my god was she putting a new definition on the term 'Bridezilla.'

"I don't understand it!" Sylvie said, flailing and pacing about the small, white office. "Why can't we have it at the park? Is it because they're afraid I'll do something incredibly strong and amazing in front of their oppressed human faces?" *

Mrs. Aycock shook her head. "Because your marriage is illegal in all fifty states." *

Sylvie's jaw dropped. "I resent that! How so?"

Mrs. Aycock began awkwardly fiddling with the long string of pearls about her neck. "Genetically you are...kind of the same and also not? Like, you're somehow both cousins and twins? We're pretty sure any offspring you have will need an exorcism at birth." *

Sylvie drew her sword and pointed it at Mrs. Aycock's skinny, wrinkly, not-powerful human throat. "I will turn you into a shish kabob if you don't schedule my wedding for the park!"

The woman had dealt with more evil, entitled, barking she-devils in her career than a Hollywood publicist. "Jesus, this is getting convoluted! The President said NO and that is FINAL!" *

Sylvie smirked. She'd managed to waste five minutes of the President's life while insisting that he burn the city down for refusing to allow two of the same person to marry one another. He responded by putting her name on an FBI Top Priority Threat list and telling her to get a dildo.

She was so awesome.

"Loki!" Sylvie huffed. "Have you NOTHING to say?"

"Well--"

"--shut up, Loki!"

Loki shrugged. "Yes, dear. I love you."

She smiled blandly, pretending to have an emotion. "Thanks. I love me too." *

The wedding planner needed a drink, or ten. "How about Alabama? They let anything get married down there!" *

Loki knitted his eyebrow.

"Shut up, Loki!" said Sylvie.

"I didn't even say anything this time!" *

Sylvie put her sword back into the sheath at her hip. "Call him for me," she demanded.

The wedding planner looked as confused as she was frightened for her life. "Who?"

"Al! This Bama Man, call him at once, if he is the only one with the sense to allow me to take ownership--"

"--marry--"

"--do you not know who I am?" asked Sylvie incredulously. "I am a modern woman-hero written by the Disney Corporation! We have NO feelings, NO flaws, and NO need for men! We don't need to train, or understand, or think we could ever be wrong! We' all emerge from the forehead of Zeus full-armored and ready to bust all the balls!" She stood on the table in exaggerated pose, while Ms. Aycock kneeled and kowtowed, her heart instantly changed.

"Truly you are the Son of God!" *

Out on the street, Sylvie walked tall and alert, while Loki minded the mandated seven-and-five-eighths-paces behind and kept his head down. Everything was going her way...but it wasn't going her way enough.

"LOKI!" She called suddenly, causing Loki to accidentally take an extra step forward.

"Yes, Sylvie?" he asked hesitantly.

"I want to stab something." She called, briskly walking ahead and not looking in the direction she was going.

"But my leg still hasn't healed--"

"Not you!" she said angrily, shoving a homeless toddler standing nearby. The lightweight lad careened across the sidewalk and landed in a garbage bin full of medical waste.

"Wow, that Sylvie is such a brave woman!" said the child's mother. *

The three-year-old's head popped up from the dumpster, a used cannula draped over his head. "I wanna be her when I grow up...if I live that long!" *

Sylvie was still stomping angrily into the street, sword out again, when a large black van nearly hit her, daring to go two miles over the speed limit, and running through a green light.

A young man of about 25 leaned out the driver's side window. "I'm so sorry, ma'am! I hope you're okay! The walk light wasn't triggered, and--"

She in her infinite heroic courage did not scream or weep. While the driver was asking for the state of her wellbeing, if he did, in fact, graze her, she drew the sword and impaled the front tire with it. It popped with a loud sound, and the air leaking from it made a high-pitched whistle. *

"LADY! What the hell?! I was going to the hospital!"

A woman leaned out the passenger window. "I'm in labor! I can feel his head crowning..."

Sylvie came around the other side and slapped the pregnant woman in the face. A loud baby's cry suddenly filled the car. *

"Oh! Honey!" the mother's mood suddenly changed as she held her beautiful newborn six-month-old. "Look what Sylvie gave us! Sylvie gave birth to our son!" *

The man looked straight ahead and questioned the validity of his existence.

Everyone on the street began laughing and clapping as Sylvie stood there, silent and proud, having saved the day again...somehow. Loki came up behind her with a lovesick grin, putting a leather dog collar around his neck and holding the leash out to his lady-half. "You're so amazing, saving the day again without doing anything introspective or civilized! Oh, look! Everyone loves you, Sylvie!"

Sylvie looked directly into the camera and smiled. "I know, I love me too!" *

Happy nothing-special-about-the-date-today!

TAGGIES: @acidcasualties @foxherder @fandxmslxt69 @fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @maple-seed @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @smolvenger @holdmytesseract

[lewmagoo]

lewmagoo’s masterlist

✩ outer range ✩

✩ series ✩

the wolf [werewolf au]

✩ standalone fics ✩

tonight you belong to me [smut]

little lambs and big, bad cowboys [smut]

dona nobis pacem [angst]

the bunny and the bull rider [fluff]

million dollar man [smut]

the ferris wheel [angst]

try a little tenderness [smut]

diamond cowboy [smut]

✩ holiday edition ✩

silent falls the winter snow [angst, fluff]

✩ drabbles:

blue jeans [smut]

touch [smut]

✩ top gun: maverick ✩

✩ series ✩

before the devil comes for you

six summers

✩ standalone fics ✩

loving him [smut]

of angels and darlings (ft. rooster) [smut]

return to me [angst]

of admirals and paperweights [smut]

someone to watch over me [angst, smut]

swathed in the purple glow [smut]

the ties that bind [smut]

to my heart, he carries the key [smut, angst]

✩ drabbles ✩

mine [smut]

close to you [smut]

✩ miscellaneous ✩

masterlist of lewis pullman’s filmography

the snoopy chronicles™️

moodboards

playlists

my favorite fics

up to date as of 3 • 25 • 24

[anika-ann]

Love on the Brain - masterlist

MCU x Criminal Minds crossover

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, (slight allusions to past Spencer Reid x reader)

Summary: You found menacing pictures of you friend, colleague and neighbour Steve in your mailbox.  

Someone might play it off as a bad joke, but you were an agent for the Avengers Initiative and a former FBI agent. You’ve seen cases like this and you were taking no chances. Not with Steve of all people.

But you were going to need help; enter the BAU.

Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia...

Setting: slight AU, before Avengers: Age of Ultron and Criminal Minds season 7

MAIN STORYLINE:

Prologue 

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3  

Part 4 

Part 5 

Part 6.1 

Part 6.2

Part 7

Part 8 

Part 9

Epilogue

There shall be more - one-shots, two-shots... maaaaaaby a sequel, we’ll see

Taglist open🥰 divider by firefly-graphics 😍

A/N: If you have trouble seeing some of chapters, it might be because of your community labels settings - some chapters are given a MATURE label because of violence or other mature content. 

ONE/TWO SHOTS (post Love on the Brain storyline; in chronologic order, not in order of posting):

Cookies and Spark(le)s ...you earn your nickname (PREQUEL)

Paperweight...Sparkles is helpful during drool-worthy work out (PREQUEL)

(Love)Sick ...Sparkles gets sick

Missing Home ...Steve goes on a mission while Spakles is stuck recovering

No pressure part 1 // part 2* - ...the teams celebrate, you and Steve need to talk... and f*ck at last

Look Out *(ish) ...training goes awry

Hot Boy Summer *(ish) ...Steve it is pretty hot by the private Tower’s pool

Cracks in Foundation ...Steve’s PTSD sends him spiralling into a flashback

DIRTY HEADCANONS* (and a drabble) with no precise timeline

A/N: You don’t need any particular knowledge of Criminal Minds to read this (though you’ll understand better if you watched, of course). 

Just know that the BAU is a specialized FBI unit: profilers. They deal with nasty crimes commited by ‘unsubs’ – unknown subjects – whom they track based on their victims and crimes.

I’m working under assumption that more people aren’t familiar with Criminal Minds rather than with the MCU, so I made little something for you to put face to the name. I tried to make them fun, because despite the darkness in the show, there are big ‘team as family’ vibes and their quips are the highlight of the show for me 🥰

Pics and descriptions under the cut:

(to the CM fans - yes, these are simplified... I could gush around each of the characters and the ones from other seasons for hours)

[warpedlegacywrites]

Chapter 16: The Crimson Council

After long months of planning, the delegation to address the growing problem of red lyrium finally takes place. But for all her meticulous planning, there's one thing Theresa hasn't accounted for.

Several voices rise at once, some concurring and some dissenting, and already Theresa sees things getting horribly sidetracked. She raps loudly on the table with one of her paperweights, waiting for enough of the din to quiet down before shooting Varric a pleading glance.  He quickly clears his throat and raises both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Let’s keep this on task, shall we? Our first and biggest problem is that we’ve all found ways to deal with it on a smaller scale, but those methods are either temporary, ineffective, or impractical on the scale we’re talking about. And to stop this, we’ve got to think big. Continent-big.”  Feynriel crosses his arms and gives a thoughtful frown. “For the sake of argument, what happens if we do nothing? Nature is incredibly adaptable – isn’t there any chance that things will work themselves out?”  Everyone grows still, looking to Theresa and Varric, who share another grave look.  “No,” Theresa says flatly. “There’s no chance. I’ve seen firsthand the damage it will do if left unchecked. It will eat the world.”  Feynriel eyes her warily. “Figuratively?”  “Literally.”  The note of silence that follows is chilling. But at least now, everyone understands the stakes. 

DAFF tag list: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe, @agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance

[kovacs-of-courage]

A Time eclipse AU drabble

-----December 5th, 12,000 B.C.E-----

-----------Late Ice Age-------------

Time rasped, putting his weight against the trunk of a birch tree; it’s ash bark as white as the snow piled to his knees.

He put two leather-clad fingers to his bruised temple, a thunderous ringing slamming between his ears. It was an earthquake within his mind, the reminder of all he’d failed, and all that he now had to overcome.

Hyrule, his home, was gone--and by all rights so should he.

But he’s alive, by the goddesses he was alive.

Time fought back the cascading emotions of his hours-new remembrance, gritting his teeth as the scars of his first body etched themselves anew on his earthy form. He’d been struggling with the symptoms of his revived consciousness for as long as he’d regained it; barely making the miles walk back to his tribe’s encampments.

How would they view him now? Their leader returning from a foraging trip half-blind and scarred, a shadow of his former strength?

If he’d taught them anything--hopefully nothing at all.

Time winced; abject darkness overtaking his whitening eye, the emblazoned touch of the deity scaring onto his soul once again. He tried to avoid the thought of if he too made the breach; ignorance was bliss.

He grunted, straightening his shoulders despite the pain. He was more then his scars, more then his memories, his tribe nee-

“Watch out!”

Time swiveled to his rearward, reacting on instinct, too preoccupied to digest who was speaking to him. It was a futile effort though, as seven hundred fifty pounds of arctic feline crashed into him like a freight train from hell. They tumbled through the alaskan detritus, a snarling roar rumbling the frozen tundra.

He was on his back now, his hands in an iron grip around both of the saber tooth’s arms, a mask of stoic determination overtaking his adrenalined shock. The tiger struggled and squirmed in his grasp, unused to it’s mauling victims surviving the first gouging, or gouging attempt in this case.

Time’s move, however bold, was temporary at best. It was a miracle he wasn’t stricken immobile by the sheer force of the charging tackle. He wasn’t surprised, it’s not like he hadn’t survived worst.

“Hey, listen! It’s fangs are more brittle then they look, try attacking them with your gauntlets.”

*Navi?*

The gauntlets were a point of confusion too, given that he was stripped of his gear; answered justly when sheets of hammered metal and gold began manifesting around his forearms; emerging like crying tears from rippling air. They wrapped him in ribbons of molten light, their fiery embers coming right off the forges of their creation.

Okay then.

Uncapped strength surged within the forsaken hero, the thrashing predator atop him feeling lighter then a paperweight. He grabbed the Saber’s right fang, the ruby at the center of his gauntlets aglow--

He flicked his wrist right, snapping off eight inches of prehistoric bone from it’s source with unprecedented ease. 

Howling in pain, the saber thrashed it’s unhooked claw at Time--It tried to at least. A rising uppercut hit from below, fracturing it’s bottom jaw in a spiderwebbing cracks. 

The saber, now whimpering, scampered off Time; fleeing into the wilderness.

Time sighed, putting a hand to his chest.

“Stow the yawn, hero. You’re still on the clock.”

A flicker of blue light swam into his vision, impatiently hovering in place; their presence unabashed. A few thoughts struck Time’s mind, all in rapid succession--

Was this real? Was he having a stroke? Had he died again?

Normal things to consider, given he hadn’t seen his friend in over two and a half decades.

“I-..I-” Time stuttered, unable to find the words.

“Save it. We’ll talk whys and hows later, I’m just as confused as you are--but I do know that your tribe is in a heap of trouble, and they need your help.”

Time shook his head, trying to shake his bafflement.

“Our help, you mean. We’re a team, remember?”

Navi paused, a dozen regrets chasing her hurried mind.

“Of course..my mistake. We fight together, Link, ere the end,” Navi said, wistful melancholy infecting her tone.

Time nodded. “Then lead the way, the stage is yours,” Time said.

“Good. We don’t have a moment to lose.”

[sizzleissues]

Hello I wrote this in ten tired minutes. Content warning. I think I’m going to write an Adrien is traumatised fic one day.

Adrien bends back, his knees skidding along the dais, stopping in a heap at the other end. Pain shoots up his legs like firecrackers, bursting through the cacophony of noise in his head. In glimpses he catches sparks of red, purple and scarlet, before the noise swallows it up. Deafening quiet, mollifying screams. Voices screech in his ears but silence tears through his brain. It contradicts itself. 

It is all. So it becomes nothing.

Adrien takes a sliver of a breath, twisting his clunky body to face the battle. Ladybug misses again with her yo-yo, a piece of the wall coming off in a spiked chunk. Monarch laughs, marching forward and grabbing the child by her neck. He throws Ladybug away like she weighs less than a paperweight. Pink bubbles envelop her as she falls and Adrien looks away. He would not learn her identity through seeing her rag dolled body.

Instead he watches Monarch, his father, stride toward his mothers cocoon. His staff clicks along the ground, trailing his son's blood. He’s his son. His blood. Monarch caresses his mother’s cheek whispering something he cannot hear. Then he holds out his hand and reforms the ladybug miraculous into a set of twin rings. Ones he thinks destroyed but instead rest in his son’s breast pocket.

He’s his son. His pocket.

Monarch slips then on and wastes no time in transforming. No time to check behind his back. No time to turn. No time to look. 

Ladybug appears with a spiked chunk of the wall in her hands and spears it through Monarch’s body. His father’s body. His father doesn’t scream, a simple sigh leaving his throat before blood spills out after it. His transformation fails. Ladybug drops the spike and picks the rings off his body.

Adrien avoids her face. She doesn’t look at him. She tosses him the ring and through sheer dumb luck it lands within reach. They transform in silence.

She ties the body’s hands together, barely shaking. The body won’t remain dead but the impact of watching it die will stick with him nonetheless. Adrien waits for her to cast the cure before attempting to move. His wounds fade to nothing as pink magic flies out from the disintegrating baseball bat.

His father stirs.

All is not well

This is directly under another warm up Drabble where Adrienette is cute and move into a shitty apartment, so huge juxtaposition there. Basically this is a, we just found out who’s Monarch and immediately confront him type situation. So I tried to show Adrien having a disconnect from the idea its his father and who his father is, and who he is. Presumably just before the opening line, Monarch stole his miraculous without even looking at who it was.

[echo-of-sounds]

comfort

Small drabbles of you comforting Toshi, Fatgum, and Gang Orca.

Sorry about the late upload. I wanted to get something out today, so I took a little extra time to finish this. Also, I hope you guys have a Happy New Year! Be safe if you’re doing anything tonight!

Yagi Toshinori

“Can we not watch this right now?”

“Uh, sure. Do you suddenly not enjoy The Evening Hero Gossip?” you asked. Toshi usually caught up on the city’s news and gossip as he wound down from his day. Right now, he was grimacing, subtly rubbing his side under the blanket. The small action caused regret over your taunting tone.

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything, sweetheart,” he falsely assured. His hand moved from his side to your thigh, giving it a loving pat. The weight still haunted his shoulders. It was identical to the weight he carried during his self-blaming, heavyhearted periods. “I’d rather watch a movie or something less bleak with dinner.”

You put the remote down, set aside your stir-fry, and faced him. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Toshi, I can tell something’s wrong. Did something happen today?” You nodded to his covered injury.

The fingers on your thigh clenched. He looked around the room, seemingly to find a way to move on. You cradled his hand and brought it to your lips. The kiss softened his stifling. Another one slumped his shoulders. A silent minute later, he sighed, “They said… One woman made a comment. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, and I know she wouldn’t intentionally insult me, but it was still discouraging.”

“What did she say?”

“They were talking about which Heroes are the most handsome, who’d be the best boyfriend, things like that.” He kneaded his eyes. You kissed his knuckles, knowing where this was heading. “One woman said I wasn’t much anymore since I lost my powers. She said I wasn’t attractive.”

“What?”

“Please, don’t get angry. She didn’t mean it. I’m sure… It was just one of those comets that blurt out before you realize how it could come across.”

“Did she at least apologize on Tv or social media or something?” The answer came as his hand retracting from yours and him sinking into the couch. You gently crawled onto his lap, letting him tuck into your neck. While you spoke, you brushed his hair, “Then it doesn’t matter her intentions. She needs to apologize. And I am angry at her.”

A faint laugh tickled your skin. Arms snaked around you, clasping behind to cling close. “You’re handsome, Toshi. You really are. I’m not just saying that cause we’re dating-” You kissed his forehead. “-Your jawline and eyelashes are worth killing for.” 

His head lifted. “I thought you said my eyes were the best.”

“I did. They’re beautiful. But your jawline is just amazing,” you mumbled against the divine bone, sucking and nipping him. “Besides, you’re my boyfriend. That woman doesn’t get to see how sweet you are to me.”

His nose nudged yours. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I just love you. You’re caring and loving and attentive and thoughtful and empathetic-”

Toshi’s lips on yours silenced your complementing, breathing words of love back.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

“Hey!” you greeted Tai’s back. 

He didn’t move when he responded with a lame ‘hey.’ No cheer or thrill heightened in his voice. It was incredibly odd, but gravely concerning too. Even after the hardest fights and longest days, he always acknowledged you with a love-filled smile.

You sat your bag on the counter. “Tai, are you okay?”

“I’m great.”

You plopped down beside him, stroking his arm, asking in a mellow tone to avoid being too pushy, “Are you sure?”

A brief film of water coated his eyes. Immediately, he blunk it away and nodded.

“Oh, baby.” Your fingers swept through his hair, running your nails along his scalp. He leaned into it. “Was it just a bad day?”

He nodded again.

You hopped up, offering your hands. “Come on.”

He grabbed them and stood, allowing you to lead him into the bedroom. You unzipped his sweatshirt. It flopped. The crinkly t-shirt was next, but you couldn’t reach high enough. With a small smile, he lifted it the rest of the way, revealing his belly and stretch marks. Hands shielded them as he laid on the bed. It gave you an inkling about his down mood.

You crawled up and smooched his cheek. He tried to return the kiss, but your lips drifted down his chin, landing on his sternum. You moved downward, seized his screening hands, and pleased them on his chest. Dark purple stria lined up his tummy from his pants, curving past his belly button.

“You’re so handsome, Tai.” You slowly kissed them. His stomach sucked in with a sharp inhale. He didn’t say anything while you praised the marks with your mouth. You took your time on each one. Softened, stretched skin lightly fluttered. Breaths gradually evened out, becoming accustomed to you. 

In the silent room, you made your way up to his blushing smile, whispering again, “You’re so handsome.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled.

“Hmmm, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, come here.” He bundled you within his arms and blankets, reciprocating the many kisses.

Gang Orca

The apartment door opened to a dark, freezing living room. Not even candles or technology lights blinked. “Hey, Kugo, you home?”

No reply came. Certain he had beaten you home, you called his name a few times. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and walked through the rooms, failing to see him anywhere. You almost gave in and called his phone when a flash of his elbow poked out from the balcony window.

Quietly sliding the door ajar, Kugo came into sight, hunched over on the bench, holding his head in his hands. Piles of soggy paperwork stacked on the table. A bundle of pens acted as a paperweight. Though street lights poorly lit the deck, you could make out shaking shoulders from the billow and wet clothing from the clumping snowflakes.

“Kugo, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

“Did something happen?”

The nod of his head was barely perceptible.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer.

Hiding your sigh, you brushed the snow from him, removed the blanket from your shoulders, and draped it over his. Once he was covered, you softly spoke, “I’ll make you some tea, honey. I’ll be right back.” You kissed the top of his head, whispering before heading back inside, “I love you.”

While the water heated, you prepared two cups: green with milk for you and chamomile with honey for him. Then you bundled up in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and another blanket. 

Kugo didn’t react when you returned or when you joined him on the bench. He stiffened at your presence. You didn’t comment, only extended the tea. “Here.”

A trembling hand accepted the steaming mug. A ‘thanks’ mumbled out.

“It’s no problem.”

The urge to scoot closer rose, but you weren’t sure if he’d want that. And he certainly wasn’t in the mood for conversing. A gust blew your blanket around. Both of you shivered. He shifted so your legs were touching. His hand laid out. Very, very slowly, you wrapped your fingers around two of his, tenderly, reassuringly squeezing them. 

Once they curled, you snuggled close and said, “I love you, Kugo. I’m here for you.”

Kugo rumbled quietly amidst the wind, “Thank you.”

[paperweight91]

Welp @drabblewithfrannybarnes let me know what you think…

Based on this post. A hoe spiral that I am delighted about!

Summary: what happens in the copy room after Ransom pulls you onto his lap at the Christmas Party.

Warnings: Smut! 18+, Linda Drysdale

W/C: 812

Ransom smirked as he pulled you behind him. Still in the ridiculous outfit. But the way you were looking at him, he wasn't ready to take it off quite yet.

“C’mon Kitten, let’s go.” You giggled behind him as he opened the door to the copy room, and pushed you inside.

You could feel his heated gaze taking in every inch of your body. When his eyes returned to your face, his pupils were blown wide. He licked his lips and tore the fake beard off his face, discarding it on the ground.

He stalked towards you like a predator circling its prey. For every step he took forward you took one back, until you finally hit the supply shelf behind you.

He smirked and let his fingers slowly graze up your thigh. Causing you to shiver and whimper quietly. He slowly brought his hand up underneath the skirt of your dress, rubbing the soaked material of your panties against you.

He tsked, “It seems like you should be on the naughty list Kitten. Getting all worked up for Santa.” You squirmed and bit your lip to suppress the moan trying to break free.

Ransom then did something you never thought you’d see. He dropped to his knees in front of you, dragging your ruined panties with him. Once you were free he propped your leg over his shoulder and flipped your skirt up.

Looking up at you through his lashes, he searched your face before finding the confirmation he was looking for. He dove in sucking on your clit, while two of his fingers jammed into your entrance. Your shock was only overpowered by the intense pleasure he gave you. You threw your head back and started to grind down onto his face. You ripped the Santa hat off of his head so you could lock your fingers in his hair pushing him closer.

He pulled back to watch you as his fingers rammed into relentlessly. “Look at you, just perfect.” He murmured, before diving back in to trade licks and suckles to your clit. At the pace he was going you knew it wouldn’t be long before you were going to cum.

“Ransom, please I’m so close.” You moaned and thrashed as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm.

“I know Kitten,” he murmured against your mound. “You can do it, cum for me.”

At his command your body stiffened and you felt the electricity zip through your entire body. Your head feeling light, your limbs like jelly.

Luckily Ransom caught you before you could fall, bringing you to straddle his waist as he sat back on his heels.

“I think I’ve changed my mind, cause good girls follow direction, and you listen so well.” He smirked as he brought you in for a kiss.

As quickly as your orgasm swept through you, you knew you wanted more. You ground yourself down against him.

“Get up.” He motioned towards the copier. You stood and walked towards it, bending at the hips.

“Such a good girl, now let’s see how good you really are.” You heard him pull his pants down, he trailed the head of his cock up and down your leaky folds before pushing just the tip in. He groaned, his forehead resting against the back of your neck. He took a moment before slamming his hips against yours.

You squealed at the intrusion, unable to control your volume. Forgetting that you were at work. Ransom reared up behind you, placing one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck. He started slowly fucking you, teasing you both. Soon you were squirming and mewling, begging him to go harder, faster, anything.

He chuckled before saying, “How can I say no when you beg so pretty.” With that he thrust in hard and fast. You soon were chanting a beat of “yes, yes, yes” meeting him thrust for thrust.

His hand slipped from the back of your neck down to your other hip. You could tell he was getting close, with the way his rhythm was faltering. He reached his hand around your hip and flicked your clit twice before you were shouting your release.

He groaned into your neck as his own release followed immediately after. You both stood there panting to catch your breaths when the door burst open. You jumped and turned in Ransom's arms.

“Ransom! Are you serious?! Did you just? Get out and take your little tramp with you.” Linda Drysdale, Ransom’s mother had caught you both. You buried your face in his neck, and Ransom scooped up.

“Wonderful idea Mother. Maybe you can tell the old man so I never have to wear this ridiculous costume again.”

Ransom strutted out of the building, with you in his arms, and many plans to ruin you over the coming days.

****

So what do we think?!?!

[ripdruck]

spiderwitz, 9:04, cooking breakfast 🍳

hi! sooo, cereal perhaps doesn't constitute 'cooking' but i hope you enjoy this nonetheless? thank you for the prompt, i had never written spiderwitz before so this was fun! 💌 🕊 SONNTAG 09:04 The first time they let themselves into the apartment without the realtor, Nora feels like a burglar. It takes Josh a few moments to get the key in place and she clutches at his jacket, waiting for a neighbour to join them in the stairwell and ask them what the fuck they think they’re doing? 

They’re still kids, aren’t they?

That first afternoon they move Nora’s mattress from the WG and an odd number of boxes to get them through a night. The things we can’t live without. Josh’s dad is going to help them pick up the bits of furniture they’ve assembled from Facebook Marketplace throughout the week, and they spend the first night together curled around a laptop, watching cartoons in the dark.

The first morning Nora lingers in a cocoon of blankets while Josh takes himself out for a walk. Sometimes she goes with him, but today she can’t match his bouncing energy and he seems to sense that when he kisses her forehead and tucks the blankets tighter around her shoulders.

She’s standing in the middle of their living room - their cardboard box room - in the dim morning light when he returns.

Josh clears the floor around a central cardboard box, gives the top a pat to make sure it’s sturdy, and then drapes one of his T-shirts over the surface as a makeshift tablecloth. He places the box of cereal on top and grins, “Breakfast is served.”

Nora laughs and starts rummaging in another box for a bowl. Her search offers up two novelty mugs of Josh’s that she’s never seen before, and she smiles down at their punny designs and marvels at that idea –  that there are pieces of Josh that she’s never seen before. 

“Perfect,” Josh grins when she sets them down. He pours them each a mug full of dry cereal and they pick at it quietly with their fingers, looking around at the potential of a space that is entirely their own. 

Josh leans over a box to his right and pulls out a soft toy of Nora’s, and though he’s seen it before, she finds herself blushing. Something about this childhood crutch in her Big Girl home. The things we can’t live without. Josh doesn’t notice this, focused on setting Mimi upright on another one of their boxes. 

“What are you doing?” Nora laughs, watching as Josh carefully arranges Mimi’s limbs.

“Decorating,” Josh replies, turning back to Nora with one last pat on Mimi’s head. “Your turn. Pick something out of one of my boxes.” 

Nora reaches into a box and picks out an object at random. It’s a heavy, metal object, with scraps of copper wire wrapped around it in places.

“What is this? A paperweight?”

“Ah, my Super Magnet,” Josh says very seriously, reaching for the strange hunk of metal. He poses with it, holding it outstretched like a weapon, sound effects and all. 

“Of course, of course,” Nora giggles. “Magnetoman Josh. Bored of Spider-man?  

“Spider-man confiscated it from the evil Magnetron,” Josh corrects seriously. “I found it. It’s cool, no?” He turns it over in his hands and then places it beside Mimi, shifting it back and forth until he’s happy with the arrangement. “Voila, perfect.”

Nora looks from his handiwork to his easy smile and can’t help but agree with that assessment. She reaches for his hand and her fingers dance idly over his.

 “Perfect.”

taking prompts! send me a druck ship, a time of day (e.g. 08:32) and a one word prompt (optional) and i’ll write a drabble.

[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Can you do Marcy's sister reacting to Marcy's disappearance?

The workshop reeked of motor oil. The smell could've burnt her nostrils clean, sickeningly harsh with the hollowed sound of workshop space and the tink of tools against metal.

Ally loved the wildness of it. She did, with all her heart, but right now she would've dumped all the gas cans out onto the street if she had the gall to.

And she could've. She'd done impulsive shit before.

The only reason her body — restricted in place, hands clenched above the telephone receiver — didn't was because her sweetheart grabbed the handle before she dropped it. And quickly told Mom to stay on hold.

The phone call could've been the kicker. Having to hear her mom after all the distance placed between them was high in her list of unpredictable circumstances. But the news had to be worse than her deepest fears, and man.

She wanted to throw up.

Enough so that when her love hung up, Al started toward the exit. With each step she took, the world honed in like tunnel vision. Hard to hear. Hard to deviate. All she could think about were the passing doors, the groan of the AC, the fact her steps clunked against containers on her way out.

And somehow Jess’s voice remained consistent, thorough. Jarring.

"Al, sit down."

"It's fine, babe.” The hallway seemed so long, stretched out. “It's fine, I'm just having another stupid moment again."

"Ally, listen to me!"

Ally barged into the office. Her desk had all the clutter and papers and documentation she needed to work on, and she pushed them off to make way for her briefcase — her little paperweights crashing onto the floor.

She needed pencils. She rammed socks, shoes, her car keys, and a driver's license all into the case's corners until the leather grew worn. Whatever was essential Al dumped them in, until blocky hands turned her around.

And what faced her was the tight-lipped expression of her partner. She was angry, and somehow that didn't matter.

"Babe, you're not going out there until you've calmed down."

"I'm calm.” Her voice sounded so distant, muffled up like cotton in her ears. Ally did wonder what a robot sounded like; this was the first time she pondered the possibility that she'd been one all this time. “I'm preparing everything I need for the airport."

Her hand shot out to the desk's wrench only for her girlfriend to pull it away. Days before, the exchange of the wrench was their love language; now, her girlfriend clenched the metal until Ally stared at her, stared at her as if she were crazy.

"Babe, didn't you hear me? You gotta help—"

"You don't need to go to the airport." Ally could hear the resolve — the amount of grit from years and years of studying in her family's basement. "You're an hour away from your parents' place, you just need to drive."

Her shoulders tightened. "I know this. I'm not stupid."

"Breathe, hun."

"Mom needs me. And I know what night traffic's like. The airport's better. If I can get onto a plane in the next ten minutes then I should be able to join the search, then we can find..."

Arms wrapped around her before she could finish.

She expected heat, warmth, the ease into love, but all Ally could think about came flooding back:

Prayers, Amber Alerts, the news.

"Al, I need you to breathe right now."

And if she breathed then she'd lose time. She'd take up space. One breath equaled one second of chances, chances that whoever hurt Marcy brought her farther and farther away until all Ally could think about were their True Crime binges.

How Marcy once peered into the faces of alive people who should've been alive, and asked Al if she'd ever witness something like that.

And Ally didn't want to say yes.

Not before. Not now. Not ever.

"Ally, count with me."

The numbers had begun. From one percent to two percent to three percent to four.

The world seemed flimsy, one-dimensional, hard to understand, and Ally couldn't remember what she said when Jess pulled her face into the warmth of her collar.

And Al breathed. She breathed, all slow, ragged as if the air broke through her throat.

It didn't seem over. Almost as if someone punched her in the gut and left her here just to take it.

Then the next few minutes came. Ice water occupied her hands in a glass. She sipped, let the water coax itself through her system, and nausea came back, left her head spinning with each step she took.

"I still need to go," she croaked. Her vocal cords had sounded nothing like before. Had she been crying?

Was that why she was shaking so much?

Before she could think any further, the warmth had come back.

Her girlfriend. Oh, it had to be her. She wrapped around her like a blanket, all weighted and comfy — almost as if the past transgressions weren't there — and Ally didn't fight back.

She didn't have the energy to do so.

"I'll drive you," was what she said. Her girlfriend said that with the grandest conviction, and Ally could only listen. "I'll drive you and I'll be there when they tell you everything, and you're not getting rid of me even when the search is done. I'll get that schedule going. I'll make your favorite dishes even if it kills me." Fingers wrapped themselves around her hair. All gentle. Caring. "When I said that I'm gonna be there, I meant it. You're never getting rid of me."

She squeezed Ally's form.

"I promise."

The fan whirred above their heads. The desk remained scattered, a sign of a war that continued to rage on from outside the household to some search party deep in the East LA junctions.

But Ally only closed her eyes. And took a deep breath.

"I don't deserve you, Jess." She laughed slightly, groaning into the fabric. "I really don't."

The embrace tightened more.

"Then get used to me being here. I'm not just that same rival all those years ago, it's different now. We've got each other's backs. Remember that."

Is that what it feels like? To have someone love you no matter how messed up you are?

It feels so nice.

"I will," she said finally. She groaned in relief, trying her best to wipe the snot from her nose. "Babe, you're so smart, I hate this."

Her girlfriend's chest rumbled, almost as if she was holding back laughter. "I'm a luxury few can afford," she whispered.

And with that, Ally snorted into her sobs.

[alex-nicole42]

for you, my beloved

a small Mobius Drabble, because brain rot is real

He was tired. Exhausted even.

He didn’t know how long he’d been assigned to this case, how long he’d poured over the monotonous files and stared at the face of a child who couldn’t have been older than eight. How long had he fought the doubts? The sinking feeling that a cause rooted in “righteousness” was hunting a child, that he was hunting a child.

His suit was wrinkled, sleeves rolled past the elbow, jacket abandoned on the back of the rolling chair he perched on. His back was aching and stiff, his eyes were blurry from the odd combination of sleep deprivation and too many watered-down coffees. He groaned and laid his face in his hands trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. He never knew how to feel about Miss Minutes. He stood from his desk, the paperweight Ravonna got him fell to the floor with a dull thud. He’d never felt more out of place, the odd consolation prize was settled back on his desk as he shut the lamp off. He didn’t even bother putting away the files and notebook on the table before trotting to the elevator. (The one that didn’t house a robot that disintegrated your clothing).

The walk to his apartment building was usually his favorite way to unwind after a long day at the office. Instead, he found himself thinking about those moments before the newest Loki variant stepped through the portal in the roxxcart. He had never felt such anger before in his life. He put his neck on the line, his career, his own feelings. Ravonna had warned him about his personal feelings getting in the way of his job.

He had a bitter taste in his mouth. Whether from the stale coffee or his interaction with her. He’d never seen her so unhinged, even with her cold face staring at him he could see it in her eyes. She was becoming unglued and he wasn’t a fan of this new character trait coming into the light.

As he came to his door he stopped and stared at the dead wood. His chest deflated with a sigh that rattled his ribs, a feeling of emptiness swaddled his heart. He remembered vividly the feeling of his spine leaving his asshole as he watched Loki step through that portal. The way his words cracked under the weight of the sudden emotion that bubbled up from his gut, the raw anger, and the sting of betrayal that weighed on his chest. He thought, perhaps foolishly that Loki had grown in the short (or long) amount of time they’d spent together. He really thought he’d seen growth, it almost made him question the preordained fate Loki had been sentenced with. Almost. It was obvious now that he hadn’t and Mobius had physically and metaphorically supplied Loki with the knife that now sat lodged between his shoulder blades.

He finally brought himself to open the door and deposited his jacket and shoes in their normal place by the door. He put a tea kettle (one he’d snatched in a previous case because the timeline was going to be pruned and he’d be damned if he missed an opportunity to own the sparkly, red kettle) on the gas stove to make a herbal tea his partner had insisted he drink when he was stuck in mental loops like this. He swore she’d found a way to infuse sleepy time magic into the sweet, spicy brew. He knew she was already in bed by this time of “night”, curled up on her side of the bed, probably wearing a ratty old t-shirt of his. A small smile broke out on his lips at the thought, it was something that helped ground him when he felt the weight of the universe on his shoulders. She was the reminder that he was alive, he was breathing and that was what mattered. She reminded him that the sun would rise and fall and that regardless of the mission, regardless of the TVA, regardless of the timekeepers, he was flesh and blood. He could make his own choices, forge his own path, believe what he wanted. She reminded him that personal feelings didn’t impede his ability to do his job, that mercy and grace were important, that empathy wasn’t a weakness. She made him human.

The kettle beeped and he filled a mug with a cartoon lightning bolt decal to the brim with the steaming water. The loose leaf tea filled the infuser, turning the water a lovely rose pink, the aroma already softened the crease in his eyebrows and lessened the frown lines that marred his face. The mug was cupped in his calloused hands, warmth traveled from his stiff fingers through his veins and loosened his joints. He sighed contentedly before blowing on the mug lightly, watching the steam travel through the air. His lungs expanded with the humid air, the clinical air of the office being cleansed by the smell and feeling of home.

He sat on the brown couch, well worn and loved by them both. Mysterious stains covered it, along with frayed quilts and pillows cross-stitched with inside jokes. He tucked his legs underneath him, looking at the pictures that hung on the wall, the small piles of tidbits that reminded him he had a love, he wasn’t alone, no matter how trapped he felt in his mind. He allowed his mind to slow as he sipped his tea, he allowed himself to feel the tension roll off his back, allowed himself to simply be after the days (weeks?) that had run him so ragged.

He deposited the empty mug in the sink, watered the houseplants, and padded to his room. He opened his bedroom door and leaned in the doorway, letting the hall light shine on his girl. Her eyebrows scrunched under the scrutiny of the light and she rolled over, abandoning the pillow she’d been violently spooning. He chuckled, warm and low at the sight of the ratty t-shirt of his she wore and his boxers that she’d claimed. She always wore his clothes when he spent particularly long days at work. Something that was becoming a much more frequent occurance.

“Mobius?” She questioned, eyes still screwed shut.

“Yeah, it’s me darlin’,” He replied, low and soft. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and stripped off his work clothes before sliding into bed and wrapping his strong arms around her form and nuzzling his nose into her neck. He felt her sigh of content befor he heard it and relished at her warmth. His eyes fell shut and he fell asleep to the sound of her snores and the feeling of safety.

~~~~~~~

She woke up to the awful sound of metal scraping metal. As she slowly came to she registered the sound of humming and an album she’d nabbed from the early 2020s, it was a breakup album that had been popular at the time and her music collection was lacking in that genre. He’d immediately loved the teenage melodrama and listened to it whenever he had the time. She smiled to herself as she got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, wincing at the cold floor beneath her. She laughed at seeing her partner, whisking eggs violently and singing into a spatula with gusto. The song was blasting in their kitchen, something about betrayal, she knew he’d been struggling with his current case and it made her beam to see Mobius coping healthier than she’d expected. There were certainly worse things than her second half comparing the end of a work relationship to a seventeen year old’s breakup anthem.

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

“There’s nobody there”

A drabble for the Anon requesting number 23 with Sherloque.

Warnings for slight angst and paranoia

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick.

Your finger ached with how fast you clicked the mouse button, changing from screen to screen to screen rapidly, scanning each feed the security cameras surrounding your home sent back to you, eyes darting over every single detail desperate to find what was amiss.

Because something had to be amiss. You’d heard the noise outside. You were sure you had. There’d been a noise. Someone was there. Watching. Waiting. Looking for their opportunity...you could feel it….

“Ma fleur?” The voice behind you nearly made you jump out of your skin. You turned sharply in your chair, hand already closed around the paperweight sitting next to the computer. Sherloque stood there, dressed in his pyjamas, hands raised with his palms forward. “It is just me, ma fleur, I will not hurt you.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, you slumped back in the seat. “I’m sorry...I thought…”

“I know, but you are safe.”

You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I’m not. I heard...I heard something.” You turned back to the screen, resuming your constant patrol through the different feeds. “But I can’t see them. I don’t know...I don’t know where they are! Where are they?!”

“Shhh, breathe for me, ma fleur.” Sherloque was kneeling next to you, hands resting on your cheeks as he coaxed you to look at him. “Bien, ma chérie,” he whispered when you slowly began to calm down. 

“Sherloque, I’m sure-”

“I will look. If anyone has been here I will spot it, non?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Sherloque smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning his attention to the computer. He pulled up the live feeds along with the recordings from the rest of the evening. You watched him carefully compare it all, wiping away the tears that remained staining your face. 

“Ma fleur, there is nobody there,” he said eventually, “and no one has been there all night.”

“I...I was sure…I’m sorry.”

“Our demons can be convincing. After all you have been through it is understandable.”

You sobbed, sinking into Sherloque’s arms when he wrapped them around you. “I don’t mean to be like this. You deserve better.”

“Non. You are the only one I want, mon amour, always, through good and bad.”

“I love you,” you whispered through a sniffle.

“Je t'aime aussi. We will get through this together.”

“Promise?”

“Oui. You have my word, ma fleur.” Sherloque smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. “Will you come back to bed?”

Managing to return the smile, you nodded. “Okay,” you said, letting him take your hand and lead you back to the bedroom.

Pressing his chest to your back, Sherloque tucked you securely against him. "Bonne nuit, mon coeur. I will watch over you.”

Closing your eyes, as you slowly drifted off back to sleep, you knew he would.

[wonwooslibrary]

🌹𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 🌹

♡ = series ☆ = drabbles (<5k) ❀ = fics (>5k)

All My Love ♡

Boyfriend!Seungcheol, Fluff, cwc valentines gram

Ah! Love is You ♡

Boyfriend!Seungcheol, Fluff, sequel to All My Love

Seungcheol in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts au

svt as boyfriends ♡ seungcheol edition

bullet points, fluff, 23-24 birthday project

Jeonghan in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts AU

🥐☁️ ☆

angst?, ex best friend!jeonghan, CWC’s 2nd Anniversary Project 

paperweight ☆

Coworkers AU, enemies to lovers, CWC’s Secret Santa 2022

svt as boyfriends ♡ jeonghan edition

bullet points, fluff, 23-24 birthday project

high school sweethearts  ☆

Non-idol AU, High School AU, Fluff

Joshua in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts AU

[2:12]  ☆

Timestamp, fluff

svt as boyfriends ♡ joshua edition

fluff, bullet points, 23-24 birthday project

Strawberries & Cigarettes ☆

Non-idol AU, Fluff

Junhui in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts AU

svt as boyfriends ♡ junhui edition

bullet points, fluff, 23-24 birthday project

Soonyoung in Hogwarts 

Bulleted list, Hogwarts AU

svt as boyfriends ♡ soonyoung edition

bullet points, fluff, 23-24 birthday project

in other words, i love you ☆

fluff, super light angst, 4+1 things, roommate!au

our love is true.  ☆

Fluff, ficscafe dialogue event

Wonwoo in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts AU

svt as boyfriends ♡ wonwoo edition

fluff, bullet points, 23-24 birthday project

Jihoon in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts AU

Baby, I’ll Be Right There ❀

Fluff, angst, 1950s AU, Soulmate AU

svt as boyfriends ♡ jihoon edition

fluff, bullet points, 23-24 birthday project

Seokmin in Hogwarts

Bulleted List, Hogwarts AU

Stay Forever ☆

Royalty AU, Ficscafe royalty event drabble

Mingyu in Hogwarts

Bulleted List, Hogwarts AU

[22:48] ☆

Timestamp, Fluff, College AU

Minghao in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts au

🌈⚡️🐸 ☆

CWC's 2nd Anniversary Project, fluff, light angst, percy jackson / greek mythology au

svt as boyfriends ♡ minghao edition

fluff, bullet points, 23-24 birthday project

Seungkwan in Hogwarts

Bulleted List, Hogwarts AU

Potions and Broken Rules ☆

Hogwarts AU, Enemies to Lovers

svt as boyfriends ♡ seungkwan edition

Fluff, bullet points, 23-24 birthday project

Hansol in Hogwarts

Bulleted list, Hogwarts AU

Delivery! ☆

Pizza delivery AU, past classmates to lovers, college AU, fluff!!!

❤️ 🌺 🔥 ☆

CWC’s 2nd Anniversary Project, fluff

Chan in Hogwarts

Bulleted List, Hogwarts AU

Bowling Lanes & Broken Toes ☆

First Date AU, Fluff

svt as boyfriends ♡ chan edition

fluff, bullet points, established relationship, 23-24 birthday project

Seventeen as Hogwarts Students

mingyu ; seungkwan ; chan ; seokmin ; hansol ; seungcheol ; minghao ; junhui ; joshua ; wonwoo ; soonyoung ; jeonghan ; jihoon

petnames Seventeen would call you based on songs/lyrics/albums: a thread

fluff, bullet points, a joke lmao

Happy Ending

A series of seventeen fairytale retellings.

svt as boyfriends ♡ 2023 - 2024 birthday project

junhui ; soonyoung ; wonwoo ; seungcheol ; jeonghan ; minghao ; jihoon ; joshua ; seungkwan ; chan ; seokmin ; vernon ; mingyu