#How Do Dinosaurs Clean Their Rooms

[artblooger19moon]

Dinosaur books

How Do Dinosaurs Say Good Night

How Do Dinosaurs Say I Love You

How Do Dinosaurs Go To Sleep

How Do Dinosaurs Count to Ten

How Do Dinosaurs Go To School

How Do Dinosaurs Eat Their Food

How Do Dinosaurs Learn To Read

How Do Dinosaurs Learn Their Colors

How Do Dinosaurs Learn Colours and Numbers

How Do Dinosaurs Clean Their Rooms

[sunni-stuff]

I have bad baby fever so take this.

—★! Tags: Established relationship, baby? Afab!!

Ghost never thought about having children before. He didn't understand them; they confused him. Worst of all, he envied them. How could someone willingly bring a child into a world filled with so much chaos that men like him and the task force had to clean it all up? How could a child smile so innocently while his childhood was nothing short of a nightmare?

He didn't want kids.

That was until he met your niece, Lola. She had to stay overnight, interrupting the plans he made with the team. Johnny wanted to sit down and play a game of drunk poker, but upon seeing chubby little Lola sitting on the rug playing with her blocks, his heart practically melted at the sight.

"Lt., you didn't tell us the missus gave birth," Soap teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Ghost snorted, shaking his head. "She's not mine, Johnny. That's my niece, Lola."

The men exchanged amused glances, but their attention quickly turned back to Lola, who looked up from her blocks with a bright, toothy grin. She babbled something unintelligible and held up a block as if showing off her masterpiece.

Ghost found himself smiling beneath his mask, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest. He wasn't used to this feeling—this softness. It was alien to him, yet he couldn't deny the tiny spark of joy Lola brought into the room.

The poker game was postponed as the men took turns entertaining Lola. She giggled at Gaz's funny faces, clapped along with Soap's silly songs, and stared wide-eyed at Price's stories. But it was Ghost who seemed to captivate her the most. She crawled over to him, tugging at his pant leg until he picked her up.

Simon held her awkwardly at first, unsure of what to do. But as Lola nestled into his arms, a sense of calm washed over him. She looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes, and for a moment, all the chaos and darkness in his life faded away.

He still didn't understand children, and they still confused him. But holding Lola, Simon began to see a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a place for a bit of light in his shadowed world.

Needless to say, after that eye-opening experience, Simon quickly became attached to the loveable child. He tells your sibling to call on their work days if they need a babysitter, claiming he's just trying to help lift the burden. Family helps family, after all.

Wrong!!

In reality, that man is completely smitten by Lola. Loves her to death. The moment he gets free time Simon is calling up your sibling, asking if they need any help, maybe needing a break from the child for a while and if Simon gets the okay, he's speeding to pick up Lola and whisking her away to your home.

Simon drops everything for her. In the middle of a workout? Give him 5 minutes. He's a fresh man, ready to play dinosaurs. Hell, he doesn't even know what playing dinosaurs is besides the fact Lola loves t-rex and being chased in her green dinosaur onesie. He went as far as to buy countless toys and books for Lola to play with in his home office, no less! Her favorite story books are tucked away in his desk, burying the paperwork he was supposed to have done for Price.

If Lola throws a tantrum with you, he immediately gives you a side-eye. What did you do to make the princess unhappy?

The man absolutely adores that cute muffin, and you couldn't be more shocked. Simon "Ghost" Riley, your husband, who refused to think about children, was now wrapped around your tiny niece's finger! Heck, she's practically your kid now, especially since Lola sleeps in between the two of you, cuddling up to Simon contently.

Simon treats Lola like she is his own child, so imagine his heartbreak when your sibling gives you two the news that they're going to be visiting home for a while. He's distraught, already missing the tiny ball of life, moping about your shared home putting away Lola's toys when suddenly an idea rings in his head.

His beautiful, hardworking doll can give him a child.

♡! I have a lot of drafts, and this was one. My writing is all funky and all over the place bc it's written between being awake and having no sleep!! I have more stuff I want to post, and I might continue this.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.7 to lose someone you love

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 7/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 8.5k

a/n. sighhh i'm rly sorry for the wait. and thank you sooo much to the love for the last chapter omg :') this chapter is gojo pov and it's a bit different than the rest, but i still hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait. if there are typos, they're not typos they're actually 100% intentional and you are the silly one

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

When Gojo was just four years old, he called for the paramedics for the very first time. 

He had wandered around the house, wide and innocent blue eyes searching the room for the landline in the dim light of the evening, his lip quivering in a pout. His small arm reached up to pet around at the top of his parents’ dresser before his fingers wrapped around the phone. He couldn’t remember what the number was at first, the one his mother always told him to call in case of an emergency, but he remembered he scribbled it down somewhere with red crayon in one of his coloring books. By the time Gojo first realized he needed to call for help, located the landline, looked through all of his little portraits of dinosaurs and spaceships sprawled across the carpet of his room, found those three numbers, and then finally dialed them, his father had already been seizing and shaking on the bathroom floor for longer than twenty-four minutes.  

He was just a child. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know any better.

Gojo spent the remainder of that night hugging his mom in the hospital’s emergency room, his tears soaking through her shirt as she gently rocked him back and forth in her lap while whispering soothing words in his ear. His father lay motionless on the hospital bed before them, eyes shut, and Gojo will never forget the haunting sounds of the machinery that was keeping his father alive. It was a sudden onset seizure, likely stemming from the traumatic brain injury his father had suffered a few years ago, and the prolonged convulsions he experienced on the bathroom floor that night had resulted in severe brain damage. Gojo could still hear the echo of his mother’s silent cry when the doctors informed them that it’s unlikely his father would ever fully recover from this.

No reasonable adult would ever look a four-year-old in the eyes and say if you had called for help sooner or knew what to do, maybe your father would’ve still had the chance to live a long life. Yet, even at his young age, Gojo was aware of the energy in the room, and that explanation was the only truth his mind could grasp onto to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

After two weeks of clinging to life, his father miraculously woke up from his coma and persevered for the sake of his wife and son. Shortly after the incident, he began to have recurring seizures but fought through them each time. Without fail, he made Gojo breakfast in the mornings, even if it meant having to clean up the spilt orange juice on the counter every now and then because of how his hands could not stop trembling. He always walked Gojo to the bus stop, waving him goodbye, despite how troublesome and embarrassing he found it to use his cane. The love he had for his son was so palpable that it eclipsed the bitterness over how his life had ended up because of the blessing it had brought him.

In his prime, Gojo’s father was a renowned soccer player, so incredibly talented at the sport that he left a lasting mark on the way teams strategized, his presence on the field commanding respect, and he was one of the greatest talents the entire college division had ever seen.

He met Gojo’s mother at one of his freshman year games, a pretty lady in the stands that caught his eye from the sight of her laughter among her friends, her radiance drawing him to her from the field, and that’s how their love began. Exactly one year following that day, he stole one of his grandmother’s thrifted rings from her jewelry collection and that was what he used to propose. Gojo’s mother had accepted it with so many tears and so much snot running down her face, and he had never found her more beautiful. They married young and sweet, like most people back then.

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

No one knew that would be the last game of soccer he would ever play.  

It was a freak accident, a distracted driver behind the wheel of a gray Chevy on a dark and rainy night, veered straight towards Gojo’s parents car to avoid a branch on the road. In a moment that could only be described as his instinct to protect, he quickly swerved his vehicle, taking the brunt of the impact on his side. His family surrounded him at his hospital bedside as they grappled with the news that he would be unable to play the sport ever again due to his traumatic brain injury that would lead to lifelong motor function loss. According to the doctors and police, had he not swerved to shield his wife and unborn child, the outcome would have been far more disastrous. After months of rehabilitation, he regained enough ability to walk and just enough function in his extremities to welcome his newborn son in his arms.

When Gojo was just six years old, two years after witnessing his father’s first seizure, he stumbled upon a dusty, forgotten soccer ball tucked away in the corner of the garage. When he eagerly presented it to his father, excitement gleaming in his eyes, he was only met with a scowl and the demand to discard it, to never bring such things like that to him ever again. His mother protested, ensuing in an argument, and as Gojo lowered his gaze to the ball in his hands, he noticed his father’s faded signature adorned with a heart and message of love for his mother. The ink, once vibrant, now faded with time.

It wasn’t until Gojo turned seven that his father finally relented to teach him more about the sport, knowing it was all his son wanted for his birthday. With determination in his heart, Gojo pleaded for his father’s guidance, eager to kick around a nearly deflated, weathered ball. His father watched his son, expression morphing from reserved and stoic, softening to surprise, then hopeful, and he found himself cheering on his son’s clumsy endeavors on the field despite how many times he tumbled and fell. Because that was his son, his pride and joy, reminiscent of him embracing the sport that he himself had cherished so many years ago. 

As Gojo grew older and excelled at the sport, securing victory after victory in every youth league, his father’s health steadily declined. The recurring seizures caused by the brain damage from his prolonged convulsions on that fateful night exacerbated over the years and started to take an increasing toll on his body. Yet still, he never missed even a single one of his son’s games. Whenever Gojo swiftly sent the ball flying through the net, the first person his eyes would search for on the field was his father, the joy in his eyes being all he cared about in the world. Gojo lived to make his father proud, because it was the only thing that made him feel like he could make up for what little he had done to protect his father that night.

You were just a child. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better.

The day following Gojo’s eleventh birthday, his father had his second major seizure, falling into another coma, but this time he never woke up. Two years later, his mother made the tough decision to end his life-support, and then he was gone from their lives. Gojo’s mother was inconsolable, and he knew that his father took a piece of her soul with him to heaven that night. The piece that allowed her to smile. 

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning. 

But why was he remembering all of that now? 

The shrill of Gojo’s alarm clock woke him up from the intrusive memories that were washing through the fore-front of his mind, and he grumbled to himself before whacking at his nightstand haphazardly to shut the thing off. He ran a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the sleepiness away, features instantly settling into an annoyed scowl as he blinked his eyes open and the filtering sunlight through the windows harassed his vision. 

He laid there for a few seconds, mending to the pounding headache at his temples with his fingers rubbing circles, and then he finally sat up in bed. Blinking at his sheets, the images of last night start to flash through his mind. The heavy music, the dim lighting of the bathroom, the dizzying jealousy, and the taste of you on his tongue–

The memory is supposed to arouse him, and would on any normal day, but because you had left him standing there stunned with no release of his own at all, he instead just feels a pulsing, soul-deep throbbing pain at his crotch that could really only be due to the fact he was left high and dry by you last night. He groans at the sensation, palm pushing down on his lower abdomen to try and relax the torture, which barely helped. It’s either he jerks off or takes a cold shower, and given the former was likely not possible for him right now since his god-forsaken brain decided to push the traumatizing experiences of his childhood to the forefront of his headspace first thing in the morning, meaning it’s unlikely he’ll be able to settle into the memory of you bent over that bathroom counter for him, he decides on the cold shower. And it’s safe to say that today already fucking sucked.

The moment the chill water hits the skin of his body, he recollects the look you had on your face right before you walked out on him. Soft, searching, to him almost seraphic, but you also looked wounded. And something from your anger with him since before he even had you in that bathroom, to the agonizing moment you left him in there by himself, told him he’d messed up big time with you somewhere along the lines. 

He knew he had been a jerk last night. He didn’t really have much of a right to be seethingly possessive of you, but the sight of you kissing another guy had him seeing red and his knuckles turning white. He finds himself clenching his jaw at the unwelcome memory even now. He figured he probably ruined what would’ve otherwise been an enjoyable night for you, and so you decided to get revenge by walking out on him. However, he can’t shake the feeling that things are messy and complicated now, primarily because of him, and he felt like he needed to apologize for dragging you into his weird, confusing emotions.

He gets himself dry and dressed, grateful for the barely sufficient relief he had down south, and sighs as he grabs his phone and taps on your name, thinking about what to say to you, and just settles on typing out Hey, can we talk? and then presses send. He turns the ringer of his phone off, tosses the device onto his bed and then heads out the door. 

Geto was sitting on the couch in the loft, rubbing an ice cube across his forehead as he sprawled on the cushions and let out low and consistent groans to himself. Gojo flopped down on the armchair across from him and assumed a similar position, rubbing at his temples to nurse his own headache. Geto opens an eye to look at him.

“Morning,” he grumbles. 

“I take it I’m not the only one that feels like they’ve been hit by a truck?” Gojo asks.

Geto makes a disgruntled noise and throws his head back on the cushion. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. God knows how much I had last night.” He reaches over to the console table in the center for the bottle of Ibuprofen and tosses it to Gojo, who catches it and stares down at the label. “I didn’t really see you drink that much though. Don’t know why you’re hungover.”

Gojo sighs. He wasn’t hungover. His headache was from the fact that had a lot on his mind. Like the feeling of your skin last night. And then the pain of being blue-balled. And also for some reason his father’s death. Very exhausting to juggle those thoughts at once. 

Gojo twists the cap off the bottle of Ibuprofen and pops two pills, drowning them in his mouth with Geto’s glass of water, then runs a frustrated hand through his hair. The man across from him raises an eyebrow.

“You good?” he asks.

“Super peachy,” Gojo replies.

He sighs. “Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t affect your play today,” Geto warns him, sinking further down into the couch. Gojo lets out an exhale through his nose. Geto usually pushed further for answers whenever he was in a mood, so the fact that he didn’t this time meant that hangover was bad.

“I’m more worried about you. You think you’ll be fine in a few hours?” Gojo asks. Geto just waves his hand in the air in response as he grabs the hand towel on his chest and drags it up over his face, shielding himself from the light of the room.

“I have no choice but to be fine. We have to win this game,” is all he says through muffling cloth.

Gojo nods, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the carpet. It was finally the game of the 28th, arguably the second-most important game of the season. If they take home the win, they’re automatically seeded into top sixteen teams, which means they’ll only have to win four more matches after today to take home the championship. But if they lose, they’re seeded to the bottom, and then four turns into a daunting eight. In the history of the league, not a single team has ever lost their pre-seed game and still continued to win the playoff championship. So Geto was right, they have no choice but to win today. Otherwise, they could kiss goodbye to a 12-year UTokyo championship streak.

“Not going for your run?” Geto asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Nah, not feeling up for it,” Gojo replies.

He clicks his tongue. “Never skip the pre-game ritual, man.”

Gojo groans, knowing that he’s right, and so he reluctantly gets up off the chair and heads back into his room. His phone lay there on the bed, facing down, and he felt so tragically taunted by it that he weighed the options of whether or not he should check if you replied back before his run or after his run. And then he’s wondering why you affect him this much in the first place.

He resolves to check after his run, and only gets one arm through his shirt before his hands betray him and he snatches his phone, eagerly tapping the screen to turn it on. 

He sees your name at the top, where you had just replied barely a minute ago. Sure, we can talk. He blinks at his phone when he sees the polite period at the end of your message, and the proper capitalization, not to mention a vocative comma? He was starting to feel really nervous.

He didn’t care that you had only replied a minute ago, he quickly typed out his response and sent it.

|| 10:35am Gojo: Do you know how to get onto the stadium field today?

He sees you typing, and he’s holding his breath.

|| 10:36am you: yes, I do. I’m going in w the newsletter journalists. Was this what you wanted to talk about?

What did he want to talk to you about exactly? Something like I’m sorry about being an ass last night, totally not cool for me to be that territorial over you, although I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again because seeing you kiss someone other than me kind of made me want to die. Also, I’m sorry for acting like you’re just someone I know, I don’t know why I did it. I guess it’s because I didn’t know if you thought of me as any more than just someone you know either, and that thought was frightening. Did I mention I hated seeing you kiss someone that wasn’t me?

He’s never really been good with words. Or feelings. 

10:37am Gojo: No, it’s not, it’s something else. I’ll come find you on the field before the game starts

He stands there, gaze fixed on his phone screen for the minute-long pause you took to respond, that for him felt like tortured eons, just for you to send-

10:39am you: k

Gojo finishes getting dressed for his run, anxiety brewing in his stomach drearily, and when he heads out the door of the house, the fresh morning air doesn’t help calm him down like it usually does. Of course, as he’s running, his thoughts wander to you. He’s thinking about the smell of your hair–or was it the perfume on your skin?–either way, it was intoxicating. The curve of your neck, that spot that made you whimper– fuck. Think of other things. Like the sound of your voice, soft and sometimes needy, but he enjoys it that way–makes his head spin. Or when you’re being sweet and thanking him for something you shouldn’t, because to him everything about you was a privilege and never a task. Even in the hot spring sun of the late morning, he finds himself missing the warmth from your body, and that look. That goddamn look in your eyes when you’re peering into his like you want him to–

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you.”

His legs stop him on their own, like they know something about the feelings in his chest that he doesn’t, and he’s standing still on the sidewalk of the neighborhood now. Short puffs of air escape his lips from his blood pumping fast through his body, and he could physically hear the sound of you in his head. Intimate enough to where he turns to the side slightly facing his surroundings, like there was no way it was just a memory and you weren’t actually near. He finds himself swallowing hard and having to consciously keep moving forward.

Gojo makes it back to the house, freshens up for the second time today, and gets dressed into his UTokyo soccer uniform with his signature #10 jersey. He leaves with Geto to campus, where all his teammates gather before eventually boarding the bus to the UTokyo stadium field ten minutes away. Coach Yaga yells their ears off in the locker rooms in an attempt to get their plays for today through their brains, and the exhilarating noises from the stands as they make their formal entrance through to the field fills Gojo’s senses, along with the obnoxiously loud music playing as pre-game rituals settle in. Gojo sets his bag down on the bench and joins the others in warm-ups for about fifteen minutes, before catching a chance to sneak away and look for you across the expansive pristine grass.

After lightly jogging around the perimeter of the field for a couple of minutes, he finally spots you, his raised eyebrows now flattening under the fringe of his hair as he relaxes. He didn’t realize he was tensing his shoulders until now. You were just beyond the sidelines near a hydration station, fidgeting with something in your camera case, lips pressed together in a frustrated expression, and he saw your body sulk with the sigh you let out as you must’ve realized you had forgotten something. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a slight smile, an unconscious reaction to seeing you look so damn cute from your troubled face decorated with a pout. And then he remembered he had been looking for you, and he had found you, and the only thing to do next was to be near you. 

He ambles up to you, and you only catch sight of him when he’s just a few feet away and finally standing in front of you. He sees your eyes widen slightly, lashes blinking once, twice, and then there’s a blush of color to your cheeks as you fidget with the stadium access badge hung around your neck. He noticed there were grass stains on your jeans over your knees when he looked down.

“Hey,” Gojo greets you over the loud music playing on the field.

“Hi,” he sees you say, and he realizes he can barely hear you.

“Let’s go over there,” Gojo yells, jerking his head over to the side.

He leads you over to an area tucked near the east side entrance, a corner slightly underneath one of the sectioned stands where the loud cheers of the stadium somehow reflected off less. It was about as private or silent of a place that the two of you could manage to have a conversation on a soccer field before a match, if you could just ignore the dressed up school mascots rehearsing their walk-ins and walk-outs through the entryway.

You take a few steps backwards until your back hits the concrete slab wall, and he’s in front of you as he watches you study him for a second, taking in the sight of his uniform, before your eyes finally meet his.

“Are you ready to take your photos today?” he asks you, poorly attempting to make small talk despite the images of you with him in that bathroom last night flashing through his memory. Now was seriously not the time to be turned on.

You nod, and respond “I am”, giving him absolutely nothing to work with.

He sighs. “Listen, about last night, I just wanted to apologize. For dragging you into that bathroom with me, although you did ask me to-” He sees you narrow your eyes and cross your arms across your chest. “Sorry,” he sighs, “Seriously, I just…I don’t know what got over me then.”

“You don’t know? Or you just don’t want to tell me?” you prod at him. He briefly considers pretending he doesn’t hear your question over the sound of the stadium, but he knows he wouldn't get away with that, not with the way you’re looking at him like he’s just one more fuck-up away from making you storm off.

He looks at your lips. “I guess the only thing I know is that I didn’t like seeing you kiss someone else.”

You shake your head and close your eyes. “I know you didn’t, Satoru. Otherwise last night wouldn’t have happened. What I’m asking is why.”

He’s struggling now, searching his head for answers, like he’s fighting for his life on a test that he didn’t study for. When he looks down, he notices your foot has been tapping impatiently. And when he looks back up, there’s that wounded expression from last night again. “I don’t know,” is all he can offer.

You uncross your arms from your chest, lips parting slightly as your eyebrows pinch upwards with a disheartened look. He sees your gaze shift slowly across the features of his face, searching, and he wonders if you can see something within him that he can’t. The thought terrifies him. “Fine. It’s my turn to speak.”

He nods slowly. He wasn’t sure what you wanted to say to him. He imagined you would just cuss him out with a few choice words for being a raging asshole last night and then you’d be on your merry way. But he senses sincerity in your voice. Not that he was phenomenal at reading people, though.

He watches as you clench and unclench your fists at your sides nervously, then twiddle with the strap of your camera, then tuck your hair behind your ears, then blink rapidly as you look up at him, then worry your bottom lip between your teeth, then open your mouth to speak just to close it again.

“Do you need me here for any of this?” he says in an attempt at a joke to ease you, but when all you give him is a glare, he’s fearful enough to be serious again.

“I like you.”

He blinks. “Thanks? I like you, too.”

“No, no. I like you as in I have feelings for you,” you clarify. Gojo’s eyes widen at the confession, and he stands up straighter. 

“Oh,” he finally replies when he realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, “I…I wouldn’t have guessed that.” Holy shit, if that was how you felt, then he really has been a raging asshole this entire time. 

You roll your eyes. “I know. You’re a hopelessly dense, menacingly flirty, sleazy frat dude college athlete,” you sigh, “But I still like you. Unfortunately, tragically, annoyingly, much to my dismay, against my better judgment,”

“Okay, I get it-”

“I think it started that night you stayed with me when I was stranded with my flat,” you confess suddenly, your chest rising a little bit faster, and his expression softened. “I just really appreciated you being there for me.”

His voice is gentle when he speaks next. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I would’ve been there if it happened ten times over,” he pauses, “although I’d seriously question your ability to drive if it happened that many times.”

“And I think it started when you walked me out to the practice field for the first time, and you told me you cared about my dreams,” you say with a slight step forwards to him, unable to acknowledge his words at all, as if there was a script you needed to stick to that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart in front of him. 

He finds himself instinctively leaning towards you, close enough to where he notices you’re wearing a different perfume today. “But that was before the night of your car incident,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you nod, and there’s that look in your eyes that he loves, “and I also think it started that first night we met and you looked sad when I said we weren’t friends.”

Gojo’s eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, and he finds himself breathing shallowly as he listens to your words. “y/n…I think you’re working backwards here.”

“I’m trying to say I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you say to him, “they were tiny at first, I didn’t really see them, but now they’re too big for me to hold all by myself.”

Gojo nods slowly, and he already knows what you’re going to ask of him next.

“I like you in a way that makes me want more from you,” you admit, eyes steadily on his with resolve, “I don’t want to be just someone you know, or someone only for sex-”

“y/n-” he tries to interrupt you.

“And I certainly won’t be someone that sits around to wait for a guy if he doesn’t want me back,” you say, but there’s an apprehensive look in your eyes when you speak next, “so, I need you to answer to my feelings.”

Gojo blinks at you, his heart beating fast in his chest from your confession, and he feels like with every testing second that he fails to answer you back, you slip further and further away from him.

He knew he had affection for you. He always wanted to be close to you, even when he already was, as if he couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to take care of you, and see that softness in your expression when he knew you felt safe and happy. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, and it took him this damn long to realize as he stood in front of you that he had no interest in being with anyone else either. So then why did his chest feel so tight? And why was he struggling so much to give you an answer?

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning. 

Gojo’s eyes widened as the memories of his life flashed through his mind, a chill running down his spine as they knock the wind from his lungs and he feels that same sense of dread that has been following him like a ghost since that day when he was just four years old, standing in the hallway, wondering why his father was having a nightmare on the bathroom floor when he should’ve known it was something far worse than that.

Gojo blames himself for so much that had gone wrong in his life. And he should know that it’s not his fault, but all of his grief was greedy to breathe and live, desperate to find a reason for why he had to lose someone he loved, and his grief found a home in all of his guilt.

And he was terrified to lose someone close to him again. Even if he decided to see what could become with you, even if he thought for a moment that he was allowed to feel any sort of happiness with you, the thought of falling short and failing frightened him. He was so tired of adding to a long list of regrets in his life. And he knew he wasn’t what you needed— what you deserved.

“I…” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way about you.” He knows he sounds convincing enough from the way the light in your eyes dimmed, anticipation faltering and replaced with a sad expression over your features. He needs to take a shaky breath to continue speaking. “It seems I’ve led you on in a lot of ways, and I apologize for that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen anymore.”

You’re silent for a long moment, twiddling with your fingers as you look up at him. “I see…” you say, and when he sees your lower lip quiver slightly, he feels sick. His instinct is to reach out for you, pull you closer to him, but he knows that’s not a luxury you would allow for him, and he knew it wasn’t one he deserved either. 

Your voice is trembling when you speak next. “I appreciate you letting me know. And you don’t have to worry about not leading me on anymore, because this will be the last time you see me.”

His entire body runs rigid. 

“Why?” It’s a stupid question, but he asks it anyway.

“So I can get over you.”

All he can do is stand with the feeling of a chill in his bones.

“And I ask that you’ll respect my space while I do,” you add on at the end.

He’s silent for a long moment, then lets out the breath he was holding in. “I will,” he says, the promise leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

There’s a moment where you both just look at each other, as though the two of you were trying to hold onto the moment, but you’re the one to break out of it first, and he’s the one to wish it would’ve lasted a little longer.

“I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” The words already sounded like goodbye. “I’ll make sure you look nice in your photos,” you say with a small smile, holding your camera up slightly, “and good luck today.” 

He wonders if he’ll regret this moment.

“Thanks.”

He steps aside so that you can walk past him and back out to the field. Gojo takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and relaxes his shoulders. Well, that was intense. Definitely not the direction he thought that conversation was going to go in at all, but that’s fine. He handled it fine. Totally fine. Things were going to be totally fine. He just has to play the match now.

The first step he takes back towards the field, he feels his uneasiness return, with the second step the feeling of his heart beating becomes violent in his head, with the third step he swears he can’t feel the tips of his fingers, with the fourth he feels severely nauseous, and with his fifth- was he seriously about to throw up?

He barely makes it back onto the grassy field cutting across the obstacles of people at the sidelines, using all his strength to not double over before he reaches a table and grabs one of the water bottles. He sees a group of men, all dressed in suits and loitering near the team manager’s station, perk their heads up at the sight of him and he’s groaning internally. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to any damn recruiters, but he sees one of them bold enough to approach him in his periphery. He sighs, taking one last gulp of water, and tries to stand up straight and look like he wasn’t going insane.

“Hi, I’m Jousuke Tsuda, recruiter for Tokyo Metropolitan’s national league team,” he says and stretches his hand out for Gojo to shake. The man looked aged, with thick creases to his forehead that could only mean he’s witnessed a hell of a lot of life and he has the soul to prove it.

Gojo’s eyes widen at the mention of Tokyo-Met’s team, and he grabs onto the man’s hand in as firm of a handshake he could manage. “Gojo Satoru.”

The man laughs. It’s deep with a slight crackle. “I know your name, son. Every recruiter in the country does. You’ve got a lot of eyes on you right now.”

“I’m flattered.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him. “Surely you feel pressured.”

Gojo only hums to himself.

The man glances at his watch. “I know the match starts in a few, but if I could have a moment of your time. Take a walk with me?”

“Sure.”

The two trail down the line of the field. “I’ll get straight to the point, kid. Tokyo-Met’s really keen on scouting you for the national league following your graduation,” he says.

Gojo feels like he should be excited about that news, actually, he should be ecstatic and groveling at this man’s feet, but instead he just feels empty and hollow inside. 

“Forget the fact that you’ll be playing in the nation’s most revered team,” the man continues, “but compensation is high, too.” He pulls his phone out from his front suit pocket, tapping away at his calculator app, then turns the screen towards Gojo. Holy shit. “I’m talking about a 350 million yen per year contract here. I could advocate for higher based on how well you perform the rest of the season.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Gojo responds.

The man is silent for a second then sighs. When the two of them reach a somewhat secluded bench near the corner of the field, he sits down on it and expects Gojo to do the same, to which he complies.

“You know, I’m used to much more enthusiastic reactions from players that hear this kind of news, although they’re usually ecstatic for barely a hundred million a year compared to what I’ve just offered you,” the man says.

“I guess it’s the pressure,” Gojo says to him, “it’s got my emotional response circuit all fried up, y’know?” He was pulling excuses out of his ass. 

A small hmph noise is heard beside him before he sees the man pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his slacks. “I know your father has left big shoes to fill, kid. I can’t imagine the fear of feeling like you’ll fail, or the anxiety of an injury taking you out any time you’re on the field, not wanting history to repeat itself.”

Gojo’s eye twitches and he narrows his eyes at the man seated beside him. “My dad got injured in a car accident, not while playing the sport.”

“I know,” he responds, finally pulling a cigarette out of the pack, holding it between his two fingers as he rests his wrist on his knee. “The story touched the hearts of everyone in Tokyo, and the entire soccer community in general. I remember reading about it in the school newspaper. Back in the day when they still printed those things out.” Gojo’s surprised, and he’s only given a sideways smile before the man continues. “I knew your father, went to the same college as him.”

“I don’t think he ever mentioned you,” Gojo says.

He lets out a hearty laugh. “He despised me. I was a money-hungry finance major that saw a huge opportunity in mediator sports recruitment agencies. Figured if I could sign a player like your father to my start-up, I’d be set for life. He was a smart man not to sign, regardless of how things turned out.” He shakes his head musingly. “I gave up after that and got a real job. You’ll find a lot of your hopes and dreams die in college.”

“I see,” Gojo says.

The man leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and looks over with a serious expression on his face. “Tell me, son, what does this sport mean to you? Why have you dedicated your entire life to playing it?”

Gojo only gives him a cursory glance.

“Is it the fame and attention? The pride? The thrill? The prospect of earning millions and then retiring at thirty, and you get to watch your wife and kids playing in your grand estate’s pool on a sunny summer Sunday while you’re swirling around a glass of ‘90s scotch in your hand?” he asks, tone derisive but luring. “Or does it mean something more to you?”

Gojo looks down at his hands that were clenched tightly into fists. He relaxes them so that his fingers fall open weakly and his palms face the sky. He remembers the feeling of being a kid, the smell of freshly cut grass consuming his senses, the sight of bruises on his knees from how many times he fell on the field chasing after the ball, and the admiration in his father’s eyes every single time he stood back up. “It’s a chance to prove myself,” he finally says.

“Prove yourself of what?” the man pushes.

“That I’m capable of greatness,” Gojo admits, “like my father.”

The man nods slowly in acknowledgment. “Yes, your father was a great man. But not because of how he played the game. He was a great man because he knew which sacrifices were truly important.”

Gojo looks at him wearily. “Are you trying to tell a player you’re attempting to recruit that the sport isn’t important?”

He shakes his head, looking straight ahead. “No, it’s important. But it’s the meaning you give to your life outside of it that gives it importance.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow at him, not really sure what to make of the cryptic sentiment.

The man claps his hands together and stands up. “Alright, I’m sure that’s all the time you’ve got for me. Think about my offer, and if any other recruiters approach you with better ones, just know I’ll push for higher.” He hands Gojo his business card and brings his cigarette to mouth, balancing it between his lips. “Reach out if you have any questions.”

Gojo looks down at the card, his finger tracing the edge of it as he studies the shimmering gold lettering. “Why not just hit me with your best offer and leave? Why bother having this kind of conversation with me?”

The man pulls his cigarette from his mouth, pinching it between his two fingers once again. “We’ve all got regrets we want to make right, kid,” he says. And with his hands in his pockets, he walks away. 

Gojo watches the man as he makes his way down the sidelines back to the cluster of men in suits. When he hears the referee whistle, he shoves the business card in the pocket of his uniform shorts, and makes his way towards the center of the sidelines.

His teammates instantly come up to him with optimistic smiles and encouraging pats on his chest and back, trying to keep the energy high to manifest a win for today, but Gojo just feels exhausted and like he’s drowning. He has so many thoughts swimming around in his head, he can’t even begin to explain, and he just wants someone to see through him at this moment. 

The teams stand on the field for the national anthem, and then Osaka Uni’s team disperses while UTokyo’s alma mater plays. Coach Yaga yells for all the players to huddle before the coin toss and reminds them of their plays for the afternoon.

Nanami pulls his sweatbands onto his wrists, Geto pulls his hair back up into a bun, Chosou pulls tightly on the straps of his goalie gloves, and Gojo pushes his hair up off his forehead to snap his headband onto his face. He looks around to his other teammates and that sense of pride he feels to be a part of this team swells dully despite his emotions.

UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kick, and Gojo finds his place in the center of the field. The crowd is already cheering preemptively, their pride in their home team evident in the passion of the filled stands, and Gojo peers across the large expanse of the field as he rests his foot on top of the soccer ball. It’s a scene he’s seen a hundred times in his life, but the sight is daunting today. He takes his foot off the ball when he hears the referee signal the start of the match with a short piercing shrill of his whistle, and the second Gojo draws his leg back and his foot makes contact with the ball, sending it flying forward, he can already feel that something feels very off.

Every single time he had the ball in his possession, his footwork felt heavy and delayed. His teammates had set up more than three chances for him to score, and he shot wide every single time. The crowd’s cheers started to diminish, and he could feel the growing discontent and exasperation from all eyes on the field. Ten minutes before halftime, they were down 1-0, and stakes were starting to feel high. 

One of his teammates passes a ball right to Gojo’s favored foot, the crowd instantly erupting with noise and stands to their feet as Gojo shuffles the ball past the penalty line, through Osaka’s defenders, eyes locked with the perfect opportunity to strike. This was good, he had his rhythm back, even if just for a moment, and he can see it, clear as day–the trajectory to the goal. With the feeling of slick sweat on his face and determination in his veins, he withdraws his leg back to kick the ball. The world went silent in his head, the only sound being the beating of his heart, and-

“this will be the last time you see me.”

When he recalls your voice, everything moves in slow-motion as his ankle slips slightly on the grass from his moment of hesitation, and then the ball is swiftly stolen by an opposing team player and maneuvered past him. 

“Fuck!” he hisses, immediately turning his head around as he helplessly watches the opponents players move with fervor in pursuit of another goal. The crowd hushed in horror as Osaka passed the ball through UTokyo’s defense, swiftly steadying down the side and sending the ball flying through Chosou’s outstretched arms. 2-0, and the lead ref calls for halftime. 

“Dude,” one of his teammates comes up to him as they walk back towards the benches and throws his arms up in the air, “what the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Seriously, man, not a single goal in the first half? You know how many times I’ve set up a shot for you?" another one of his teammates chimes in, nudging Gojo’s shoulder way harder than he’d usually warrant, and shortly after, a blaming fest begins among the players.

“Enough!” Coach Yaga yells out. All of the players quiet down and look at him, some grudgingly gulping down water while others just try to regain their breath. Gojo’s arms just hang at his sides in defeat. “We’re pushing everything on offense now, we can’t afford to miss any more shots,” Coach Yaga says, his fear of losing the match evident too despite his rough tone, “Satoru, I’m switching you out. Dai, take his place.”

“What?” Gojo asks incredulously, charging forward so he’s in front of the older man. “I’m not getting benched.”

“You will, because I say so,” Coach Yaga says sternly, “you’re distracted, boy. I can see it all over your face.”

“I’m n-”

“Just sit down,” Coach Yaga lets out a disgruntled noise. “When players are distracted, they get injured. Have faith in your teammates.”

“Coach,” Gojo asks again, this time almost pleading. He hardly ever questioned Coach Yaga’s calls, he had a great deal of respect for the man. But something within him just absolutely refused to get benched today.

Coach Yaga stares at him for a long moment, and it’s only when one of the refs chirps their whistle that he finally exhales and gives him a reluctant jerk of his head towards the field.

Geto sets up the perfect shot for Nanami to sweep for a kick that barely lands through the goalie’s lunge for the ball, and then on the next play, secures another goal himself. The score is tied, 2-2, with eight minutes left on the clock. Gojo manages to steal the ball on a defensive play, and it’s only really a stroke of luck that he manages in one solid pass the entire game, straight to Geto’s foot, crowd roaring, and he watches his best friend shoot and sink within the last minute and a half of the game. 

3-2. UTokyo’s win. 

Gojo sighs, exhausted as he makes his way to the bench, crouching down and zipping open his duffle bag. Spirits are low among the team despite the excitement from the crowd over their win because of how hauntingly close the loss felt during the last moments of the match, disinterested in celebrating at all as they meekly dispersed across the field. Gojo knew he was going to get a massive yelling-to from Coach Yaga and he could feel the searing disappointment from his teammates for not carrying the game more. This was just a bare win, could’ve gone either way, and his performance today wasn’t a good look for any recruiters either. He felt so emotionally and physically drained from this entire day, and he wasn’t sure how the hell he could feel any better.

Shuffling through his bag for a water bottle, his knuckles hit something cold and metallic-sounding tucked away inside. He hums to himself curiously before grabbing it and pulling it out.

strawberry vanilla soda.

Hm. This wasn’t the one you gave him a couple of days ago. He already drank that one. Did you sneak this into his bag? His brow furrows, and he stares at the sparkling smiling sloth on the label. When he turns the can in his hand, he sees a little note messily scribbled in black ink. 

good luck today! u got this :) ur a star

His eyes widened.

And putting his heart through a shredder would’ve hurt less than when he realizes what an idiot he’s been this entire time.

He’s instantly searching the field, peering through crowds of people, mascots, banners, flags, for any sight of you. He’s not sure how or why he goes in the direction that he does, but deep down it’s because he knows you like taking millions of pictures of flowers, and the west side exit has endless blooms of them. And so when he runs out that way, cleats tapping against the concrete pavement that leads out into the courtyard in the front of the stadium, and spots you standing there, he finally lets out the breath of air he feels like he’s been holding in his chest all day.

You’re aiming your camera at teal and orange petals scattered across the decorative florals lining the raised concrete planters, then pull it down from your face and twiddle with the settings, tilting your head to the side. You then pluck at one of the blooms that was spilling over the edges, bringing it to the tip of your nose curiously. And he just watches, chest heaving from the urgency that he rushed to get to you, heart aching from the desperation of wanting to be near you. He wanted to ask you how you were feeling, he wanted to know how your pictures came along, he wanted to know what you were doing after this, and he wanted you to be with him. But most importantly, he wanted to make sure that this wasn’t the last time he ever saw you again. 

It isn’t until a minute after that you seem keen on his presence too, and you swiftly turn your head in his direction, surprised. “Satoru?” you say. He wonders if he’ll melt. He wonders if those ice-cold barriers he’s built over the years could thaw just from the way you say his name.

But when he takes a step forward, you take a step back. And he halts. The expression on your face was unfamiliar to him. Once soft, curious, trusting. Now you looked at him like you were guarding something, keeping it safe from him, and he no longer had the right to intrude. And then he realizes the hell he’s put you through all this time.

He regrets pushing you away.

“I know I said I’d respect the fact that you want space,” he says through bated breath, “but I…I just can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

You’re solemn when you look at him, reading the plea in his eyes, and then slowly shake your head. He feels like he can’t breathe. 

“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

And then you walk out of his life.

a/n. thank you for reading! i have a few more author notes that explain a few things that i couldn't really find a way to fit into the chapter organically, but wanted to address before moving on, if you're curious you can find them here. hope to see you in the next one! pls lemme know if i missed any tags i'm sorry if i did :')

➸ take me to chapter eight!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle @purplehallow11 @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @erencvlt @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @hojoslutoru @drthymby @ninitoru @btszn @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @fvsm4x @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @cierocanteat (thank you to everyone <3)

[lymtw]

Hi ! This is my first time requesting something on Tumblr and I don't know if your requests are open, but if they are could you please write something about Toji where f!reader is his girlfriend (long term) and she gets in a small argument with young megumi in which he says she's not his mom (which she isn't, but she still kinda raised him with Toji). She gets sad and Toji comforts her and maybe scolds megumi and it's fluffy at the end ?

I hope it's not too confusing 😅 and if you don't want to do it it's completely okay ! I really like the way you write Toji and your works are so good !

A/N: Ngl I actually kinda teared up a little when I was thinking out the scenario for this. Don't judge me, it was like 2am-ish lol. This prompt is so good 😭🫶🏼

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji could hear bickering coming from outside your shared bedroom, familiar voices going back and forth over who knows what in the room next door. He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, because he trusted that it would be over soon. You're an adult talking to a kid. Your logic is sharper than Megumi's, so things should be resolved quickly. His eyes shut again, but the arguing wouldn't cease. Who knows how long this has gone on for.

He sighs and blinks his tired eyes open, before getting out of bed to see what all the commotion is about at eight in the morning. He grabs his shirt from the end of the bed and slips it on, over his head, as he walks over Megumi's room. Your voices are much clearer to Toji, now, as he nears the door. He stands by to listen in on what's going on.

"I just organized your room, Megumi. All i'm asking you to do is to put your toys back where they belong when you're not playing with them."

"I am playing with them," the boy says, holding two dinosaur figures. "I'm playing with all of them. I'm gonna go back to the ones over there, right now."

You sigh. The argument has been looping this way for too long. It feels pointless to argue with a child, yet you're still doing it because deep down, it irks you to have put in so much effort to keep his space clean, just for him to trash it the second he occupies the room, again.

"Let's see." You start looking around the floor for toys you know for certain he hasn't been playing with. "You're not playing with this plushie or this car. This slinky isn't being used either and it's gonna get tangled if you don't put it somewhere safe."

The boy groans, tired of hearing you list off things you see out of place on the floor. He goes back to playing with the dinosaurs in his hands, blocking out your voice.

"Megumi, are you even listening to me?" You ask, setting some of the smaller toys you collected off the floor onto the top of his dresser.

"I don't want to and I don't have to," he utters, carelessly, not even sparing you a glance. "You're not my mom, so I don't have to listen to you. Just my dad."

You're stunned by this sudden revelation of his feelings towards you. The argument is over. Megumi was the winner because he got you to back off, but at what cost? Your heart weighed a ton after what he said. You had nothing else to say to him in that moment, so you let go of your end of the tug of war rope.

Toji hears your footsteps nearing the door and makes himself known by appearing as you're heading out.

"Hey." He attempts to grab your attention, but you don't even look at him. You pat his chest twice and leave the room. He takes a step out of the room, calling for you once more as you get farther away from him. "Ma." All he gets is a thumbs up from you as you keep walking, an indication of how you're not emotionally stable enough to respond verbally.

Toji sighs, briefly watching Megumi, who still hasn't stopped playing with his toys. He's completely unaware of what just went down.

He steps further into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, next to his mini.

"Megs, that wasn't cool." He receives a hum in response. "Why would you say something like that?"

Megumi's hands still. He briefly looks at his dad before resuming what he was doing. "Like what? I was just in here, playing with my toys," he says, feigning innocence, not knowing that Toji had been listening.

"I heard what you said and it wasn't nice at all. She's always been good to you."

"But what I said is true," he exclaims, his expressive, green eyes widening, defensively.

"Okay, let's calm down. I'm not raising my voice, am I?"

Megumi slowly shakes his head. He puts down the dinosaur toys and crosses his legs, folding his hands in his lap.

"I want you to look at it this way," Toji starts, looking around at the room you were once so proud of for returning to a pristine state, now cluttered with various toys and clothes. "She's always been here for you. She takes care of you when I have to go to work, she reads to you before bed, she wakes up to make you breakfast. You like when she makes breakfast, right?"

The boy nods. "I like when she makes dog shaped pancakes."

"Yeah, me too. You think she's gonna wanna be around and make dog shaped pancakes for us if you talk to her like that?"

Megumi shakes his head. "No, but she wouldn't stop telling me to clean up my toys when I told her that i'm still playing with them."

"Well, I only see you playing with this little pool of toys, here on the bed. Everything else is just scattered all over the place. You know she worked hard to clean this place up, right?"

"Mm... yeah," he responds, coyly.

"You're like a tornado, Megs," he says, causing the fluffy-haired boy to laugh. "Yeah, it's pretty funny, huh?" Megumi keeps laughing while nodding which makes Toji crack a grin.

"I'm sorry," Megumi mumbles, once he settles down. He looks down at the palm of his hand, tracing the lines on it with his thumb.

"That's not for me to hear, kid," Toji says, setting a hand on his head.

"But, i'm scared to tell her. What if she's mad at me?" He turns his head to look at his dad, eyes darting between matching green eyes and the scar that mars his lips.

"Nah, she loves you too much to ever get mad at you. How 'bout I go see what she's doing, and you draw something to give to her? When you're ready to give her your drawing, you can come out, yeah?"

"Okay." Megumi nods. "I'll go out there when i'm ready."

"Alright. See you in a bit. Love you."

"Love you, too, dad," he responds, a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

Toji leaves him to it, leaving the door slightly ajar when he exits the room. He immediately directs himself towards you. You didn't hide or hole up in the room, instead you went to the couch. Toji sits next to you, watching you scroll through your phone.

"Hey, you good?" He asks, watching your face as you turn your screen off and shift your attention to him.

You sigh. "Yeah, it's fine. It's not like he lied."

"Don't say that. You know he's wrong." He puts a hand on your knee, squeezing comfortingly. "He's still a brat that doesn't know the weight of his words. Thinks he can just fire out things like that and move on like it's nothing. As long as i'm here, he won't get away with saying ridiculous things like that to you."

"Yeah," you say, still sounding disheartened.

"I talked to him about it. The kid was just pissed that you called him out for the mess he made. He just wanted to be right, with zero logical thoughts in that head."

You nod, not wanting to say anything more about it. Everything Toji said was correct, but you still felt like you were tossed aside, in that moment. Like you were a puzzle piece that didn't fit into their family.

"Don't be bummed about it, baby. You know he loves you, and remember, he has called you 'mom' before."

That brings a smile to your face. You remember how shy he got after realizing what he said. The word slipped out so naturally. You treated him like you normally do, but on the inside you were all giddy and proud to be considered a maternal figure by him.

"There you go. There's that pretty smile," Toji says, grinning as he pulls you close.

"Stop," you say, blushing when he starts peppering your face with kisses. You giggle when he starts chasing your lips, eventually giving you the warm, comforting kisses he wanted to give you.

You push his face away when you hear the door to Megumi's room creak, followed by Megumi himself. He takes slow steps out of the hallway and when he sees you and Toji staring at him, he gets nervous. All the attention is on him so he diverts his gaze and looks down at the floor until he's standing in front of you two. His face is red and his hands are behind his back. Toji knows what he's hiding and he smiles.

"What's up, Megs?" You ask, when he just stands there, silently.

He shifts on his feet, looking at you and then at his dad, before looking at you once more. His arms come forward and his hands shakily extend a folded piece of paper towards you.

"For me?" You ask, enthusiastically, to which he nods before looking down at his feet, again. You unfold the paper and take in the whole page of bright colors. Toji looks at it over your shoulder, a soft smile resting on his face when he sees the genuine effort that was put into the page. The first thing you notice is the big 'I'm sorry' written in his jagged and uneven handwriting, followed by a heart that you can tell he redrew multiple times based on the faded outlines behind it. There's a drawing of two simplistic dogs and what looks like the flowers you put on the dinner table. There are three stick figures that resemble you, Toji, and Megumi. You smile when you see that he didn't miss Toji's scar. He used the top corner of the page to draw the sun and there are different colored stars all over the place.

"Aw, I love it! Can I keep it forever?" You ask, smiling when you look at his adorable blush-y expression.

"Yeah, I made it for you," he mumbles, shiny eyes looking back at you.

You fold the paper, carefully, making sure to follow along the crease he already made, and set it down beside you.

"Can I have a hug?" You ask, reaching your arms out. He nods and makes his way over to you, his small arms coming up short as they wrap around you. Your embrace envelops him entirely. He's nonexistent in your hold because of how small he is. You squeeze him a little tighter, causing him to giggle at the gesture. "Love you soooo much, Megs." Before you release him, you give him a small peck on the cheek. "How about some pancakes for breakfast?"

"Can you make them in the shapes of dogs, again?" He asks, tapping his foot, excitedly.

"Of course, I can," you respond, and he gets even more excited.

"Dad! D-Dad! Dad! She's gonna make dog shaped pancakes, dad!"

"Yeah, I heard," Toji responds, a dumb grin on his face. "You should help her out, today."

"Okay," Megumi says, before sprinting to the kitchen.

"I should go help him before he gets the kitchen messy, too," you say, rising from the couch when the boy quickly vanishes.

"Hey, come here," Toji says, pulling you back by your wrist. You're pulled down for some quick kisses, a continuation of the session that was interrupted earlier.

"Love you, doll," he says, his eyes flitting between your starry ones and that smile that makes him weak.

"Love you." He doesn't let go of your hand until the link breaks, once you're out of his reach.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Damian’s Pets | Damian Wayne/Robin & Reader!Magician [Fluff]

Synopsis: every time Damian comes home with a pet he must face a panel that proves how he’ll take care of the animal without making Alfred or anyone else do it. Everything seems to go well until he comes home with a demon.

There was a cow in the Batcave. 

Normally Vivian would be used to the many things that Bruce would bring home to the cave from his previous cases, such as the giant penny or the dinosaur. An orphan he picked up in the alley.

A cow was the last thing on her list.

“This is probably some sort of hallucination caused by my three-day-straight all-nighters,” Vivian massaged the bridge of her nose.

“It's not,” said Batman.

“Can I ask how did you even get the cow in the Batmobile — I don't recall the tank having that much space capacity.”

“Don't,” Batman told her. “You know the drill.”

Vivian sighed and walked up to Damian with her husband at her side. When Damian saw the shadow of his parents, he stood his ground with his chest out and a determined look on his face. It made Tim and Dick snicker to see little Damian standing up to Vivian and Bruce as if he were to face a criminal. 

“I named her Bat-Cow,” stated Damian.

“Oh, did you know?” Vivian crossed her arms over her chest. Turning to the cow she saw the black patch on the cow's eyes that resembled the domino masks of the Robins and the Bat symbol. “I gotta admit that's witty.”

Bruce cleared his throat to get her back on track.

“And where are you planning on keeping Bat-Cow?” Vivian asked Damian.

The boy smirked. “I thought you would ask that. If you recall in our many walks around the estate, there is a plot of land that has a barn.”

“Had a barn,” Bruce corrected him.

“I'll rebuild it. Fix it for Bat-Cow, besides Alfred the cat likes exploring that barn as well. They will be comfortable there. I think Titus will also like the barn,” said Damian. “You both have been mentioning how the manor has been getting more fur around — mind you, you too have a pet dog and cat. Ace and Echo can stay there as well if they wish.”

Before Bruce could have a say on that, Vivian said, “Echo and Ace are staying in our room. But a cow is not like a dog or a cat, Damian. It — you need to milk it.”

Tim and Dick burst out laughing. Both were already tearing up now and were holding onto each other for support. Damian only looked at them with confusion. Why are they laughing when a cow really needs to be milked or else its utters will swell?

“Grow up!” Vivian told them. “But looking past the innuendo that those two picked up… and I'm glad that you didn't. Who's going to milk — ” Tim and Dick laughed loudly. “ — you two, stop it or get out. Harvest, does that make sense?” She asked Bruce.

“For now,” said Bruce.

“Fine, who's going to do all of that, the harvesting, the cleaning up, the feed — and don't you dare say Alfred.”

“I will,” said Damian.

“Do you even know how?”

Dick, still laughing, said, “I'm sure he's got some practice, Viv.”

“He's ten!” 

Dick shrugged.

“I'll ask Jon for help!”

Dick and Tim burst out laughing again and were forced to march up stairs by Bruce as he saw Damian turning red from embarrassment, his rising anger, and confusion. Why were they laughing so much?!

“Man, Jason is missing out!” Tim said as he and Dick went up stairs.

“We'll tell him when he gets home with Roy,” said Dick.

Silence came to the cave with the two gone, it gave Damian the courage on his defense and continued, “As I said. I'll ask Jon to teach me how to take care of Bat-Cow. For feeding, I'll work more chores to earn more money for Bat-Cow's necessities. I'll work harder. Just… please, let me keep her.”

How can she say no to that? Damian actually said please, and he was adamant in keeping the cow as his pet. Sighing, Vivian said, “Fine. We'll start working on the barn tomorrow.”

“What?” Bruce said.

“Yes! Thank you, Mom!” Damian wrapped his arms around Vivian.

“I thought we were on the same page,” Bruce whispered to her.

“Give him a break. Dick and Tim were pissing him off. Besides, I think it would be nice to get milk from the source directly. Don't you think?”

“You're not making any sense, right now.”

“I'll take Bat-Cow to my room for now,” Damian led the cow to the elevator.

Before the elevator could open, Vivian and Batman called out: “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

~*~

“This is your fault,” Bruce told Tim and Dick who were muttering under their breath as they cleaned up the mess that Bat-Cow made in the Batcave. When they got up that morning, Alfred immediately gave them a brush and told them to head to the cave. There they were met by the stench of the cow's stool and a couple of large lumps for them to clean up.

“How is this our fault?” Dick asked Bruce.

“If you weren't laughing at Damian then you wouldn't be cleaning up cow shit in the cave before breakfast,” Bruce stated.

“He should be the one cleaning it,” Tim muttered.

“Vivian's orders. You were teasing your brother.”

Tim and Dick groaned and went back to work.

~*~

The next pet Damian brought home was a turkey. Actually, it wasn't even at home that he presented the turkey to her, it was at her place of work. Damian was coming home from school then, and he somehow found a turkey in need of a home. He, Bruce, and Alfred walked up to Gotham University with the turkey in a cage, and surprised Vivian at the courtyard of the campus with it.

“Here, seriously?” Vivian said to them.

“He was insistent,” said Bruce.

“Well?” Vivian asked Damian.

Beside her, Justin and Catherin looked at the odd scene of the family and watched, curious to what this was about.

“He was going to the slaughter house!” said Damian.

“You can't just take a turkey who is on its way to the slaughterhouse, Damian,” Vivian turned to Bruce. “Seriously, you can't deal with this on your own?”

“He said that you were the one he needed to convince,” Bruce shrugged.

“Oh, so Via's the strict parent, huh?” Justin teased her. 

“Okay, let's hear it,” said Vivian. “Make it quick, I got a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Barn. I'll work more hours for chores and pay for the feed if I have to.”

“You won't be sleeping then.”

“I don't care. I've done all-nighters.”

“That's not okay, Damian,” Vivian sighed. “Why can't you just bring home a fish or something… Fine, but you have to promise that this is the last.”

Damian smiled. “Really?”

“Yes. Besides, fatten it up and we'll have the turkey for Thanksgiving covered.”

“Jerry is not going to be a Thanksgiving turkey!” Damian cried out.

“You already named him Jerry…” Vivian looked at her watch. “I need to go or I'll be late. You both,” she pointed at Bruce and Alfred. “Grow a pair.” She messed with Damian's hair as a goodbye and walked straight to her meeting.

~*~

“What the fuck — why is there a turkey in that place?” Jason slammed the door of the kitchen entrance. 

“Master Jason, language!” Alfred chastised him.

Vivian, who was having her evening tea with Alfred, answered, “Damian's new pet.”

“It chased me across the estate! I was going to shoot it if I hadn't run out of bullets,” Jason slumped on the seat beside Vivian and stole her grilled cheese sandwich. “We going to cook that for Thanksgiving?”

“Jerry’s not food,” Vivian told him.

“What sick fuck names a turkey Jerry?”

“That sick fuck,” Vivian nodded at Damian's direction who entered the kitchen with Alfred the cat and Echo on his head. “Jerry chased Jason across the estate.”

Damian smirked. “I guess his training is working then.”

“You little shit!” Jason pointed at him.

~*~

There was a dragon-bat in the Batcave. But compared to the cow and the turkey, this one was a small one, so small that Damian held it in his hands. Still, it was a dragon-bat. Who knows how big it could get. 

“You know what,” Vivian turned to Bruce. “You deal with this. I’ve had a long day, I’ve been feeling a little sick since this morning and I don’t want to deal with this dragon-bat. You two figure it out!”

Batman hummed and watched as his wife returned to the manor with the elevator, leaving him with Damian and the dragon-bat.

“No,” said Batman.

“That’s now how it works,” said Damian.

“No.”

“He’s all alone!”

“No.”

“Mom has a realm  that we can put him in if ever Goliath gets big!”

“That’s not her realm. That’s her uncle’s!”

“Destruction wouldn’t mind!”

“I think he would, especially when there’s dragon-bat droppings there.”

Damian stood his ground and glared at his father.

~*~

Vivian was having a nice and peaceful morning when Destruction appeared before her in his flannel and jeans, and sword. The sudden appearance of the Endless surprised everyone at the table, especially the Robins who were just seeing him for the first time. But when Vivian didn’t seem fazed they didn’t engage at the intruder.

“Vivian, there’s a dragon-bat in my realm,” said Destruction.

“I know,” Vivian continued with her breakfast.

“That doesn’t explain why.”

“Ask them,” Vivian nodded at Bruce and Damian’s direction. “We can’t have airplanes and helicopters finding a dragon-bat in the estate. And he’ll outgrow his pen in the barn, and he might eat Bat-Cow and Jerry.”

“Vivian.”

“Goliath is trained, don’t worry about it.”

Destruction sighed and left, knowing it was a losing battle. 

Damian smiled and said, “Thanks, Mom!”

“Goliath is the last.”

Damian huffed and returned to his meal.

Vivian turned to Bruce and said, “You can’t just say no, huh?”

“You never did,” Bruce muttered.

“I said no to the pig, the panther, and the lion, Bruce.”

Bruce sighed and went back to his meal. “I’ll work on it.”

[simpsdept]

Lucifer x GN adopted child reader

A/n: still have writers block. Trying to move and do school! Sorry it’s taking long! But I’m also going through some stress and emotions too and couldn’t write- but to heal me, I have made some Lucifer parent headcannons because he is the father I never had😔😔

-Platonic

-He adopted you out of depression, and being lonely. Not seeing his daughter for so long, and his wife(wives) really broke his heart. And since he can’t have children due to his lack of woman, he decided to adopt! Where you come in!

-When he saw your adorable little face in one of the foster home rooms, he knew you were perfect. You were young, not old enough to know who he was since Lucifer/Satan wasn’t out in public all the time, or at all. So while the other kids that were older cowered in fear, you were curious and un afraid, something that Lucifer loved about you.

-He can cook. Good. Expect him to make you home cooked meals all the time, so homemade dinosaur nuggets, aren’t you lucky? He’ll also help you learn how to cook, family bonding time! He has so many pictures of you two cooking together. He doesn’t mind the mess, he’s literally Satan, just a snap of his fingers and everything is clean!

-He definitely gives you rubber ducks as gifts almost everyday. He’ll make you personal ducks for you, a character, friend, yourself, anything! Of course, he’d never test any of the rubber ducks with abilities on you. He’ll give you those once he’s 100% sure they’re safe. Expect him to get or make you duck costumes or clothes. He’ll order some matching duck pajamas for the two of you to wear on movie nights, both of you watched DreamWorks “migration” so many times, but it’s your favorite movie, you both watch it together at least once a week.

-he’s not big on punishments. The farthest he’ll go is put you in time out. He has a stool for you in the corner of his office(with duck prints of course) and makes you sit there until you learned your lesson. He’s never hit you, or punish you physically, nor would he hurt you mentally, he loves you to much to do that.

-He would help you accomplish your dreams. He wasn’t able to accomplish his, but he can help you. He wants you to be free, to be as curious as you want, to let you learn. He wants you to be happy. He’ll give you everything he didn’t get. and, he’ll make sure you are on the right path to your life, and that you have everything you need to accomplish your goals and dreams. He’ll do make sure every obstacle is solved for you, but will also let you try to get through it on your own.

-He will never let heaven know you exist. He doesn’t want you to be targeted but them, especially exorcists. If your a sinner child, he’ll protect you with his life in his castles he’ll put you in a hidden room with him, and to keep you entertained he’ll play with toys with you, watch tv, sing to you, or just talk and tell you his past dreams. If your hellborn, then he’ll be less panicked about the extermination. But he wouldn’t let you outside, or near any of the doors and windows during that time.

-Lucifer would be very nervous to tell Charlie about you. He doesn’t want her to think he replaced her l, he just needs someone to take care of and protect that wouldn’t leave him. The day you met Charlie was the day Charlie had called him over to talk to him about getting them into heaven. And he thought it would be a “great” time to meet your older sister.

-You were Nervous, but more excited than your father. When Charlie saw you, she was overjoyed and knelt down on say hi, she was so kind and sweet to you. You were a little kid! She couldn’t be mean (if she was). She asked her father who you were and when she found out you were her adopted sister, she was both excited and heartbroken. She was upset. Not at you, her father. He was just starting another family being her back…? She would have loved to help raise you, play with you. But she can’t change the past, so she might as well make the most of your appearance now.

-After meeting Charlie, Lucifer brought you to her hotel more often after they felt with all the extermination stuff and rebuilt it. He’d leave you with Charlie for a weekend every now and then so you two could bond. You two have sleep overs all the time. Plus Vaggie. Vaggie likes getting involved, she wants to get to know you more and have someone from Charlie’s family like her more. You three have little “girls days” together, even jf alastor joins from time to time

-Speaking of Alastor, neither Charlie and Lucifer let you go near him alone. He’s too dangerous. Charlie will let you go near him, speak to him and play with him only if she is with you. Lucifer will not let you go near him at all. He tried to talk Charlie out of letting you see him, but Charlie doesn’t want to start any tension. Lucifer fears you may be taken away from him or hurt by Alastor. Charlie clearly likes Alastor more than him, and Lucifer doesn’t want it to happen again, so your interactions around Alastor are very limited here Lucifer is around.

-But he is a pretty great father otherwise. He wants to treat you right, and be there for you even if he couldn’t be there for Charlie.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Claire De Lune || Alexia Putellas

reader and alexia have a child together. angst. inspired by one of my favorite songs.

warnings : death, mentions of pregnancy. do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

It all happened so fast.

“Ellie, stop running please!” Alexia begged, laughing as her daughter giggled loudly. You sat at the top of the hill smiling, plating up the sandwiches you had made at home. The picnic table was full of all your girls’ favorite snacks, and Ellie’s toys were scattered on the plaid blanket right next to you. She had her little football to kick around with her mother, her pretty sequin shoes abandoned next to your purse in favor of her custom bright pink cleats.

You hear your wife’s huffing and puffing as she treks back up the slightly steep hill. In her arms was a squirming toddler who had her giggle and cheeky smile. You stand and pretend to look mad, hands already on your hips with a slight smirk on your face.

“Did you run away from Mama again, sweetie?” you tease, taking Ellie from your wife’s arms. She nods and buries her face in your neck, skin hot and flushed from all her running.

“Did she outrun you, my love?” you ask Alexia with a smile, holding Ellie in one arm and popping a strawberry in your mouth with the other.

“Like a bat out of hell, she’s gotten that speed from you.”

Before you could clap back at your wife, Ellie tugs at your shirt and whines that she’s hungry. You sit with her under the warm Barcelona sky as the sun begins to set, handing her a little ham and cheese sandwich which is her favorite at the moment. She happily munches on her food and you look at Alexia who was looking at you. She reaches out her arm for you and you hold it across the table. It was a perfect little family day and you would trade it for nothing but a chance to do it again.

There was no time to think.

You wake up in the middle of the night to Ellie screaming for you. Alexia sits up at the same time and scrambles out of bed with you. You rush into her bedroom and see that she’s crying and sitting on the edge since she wet the bed. She rushes into your arms and you scoop her up, cradling her close. Alexia rubs her back and holds you close, soothing your daughter so she can tell you what was wrong.

“Bad dream Mommy,” she sobs into your neck, her clothes starting to dry and her body beginning to shiver. You take her into the bathroom and get her cleaned up as Alexia changes the sheets. You walk out of the bathroom 15 minutes later to Ellie’s bed made and her clean pajamas warmed up a little in the dryer.

Alexia dresses her and you find her nightlight to bring back to your room. Alexia walks into your room with a dead-asleep toddler and her favorite blankie clutched tight to her face. You plugged the little dinosaur nightlight into the wall next to your bed as Alexia gently climbed into bed with your daughter. You pulled Spotify up and turned on Clair De Lune which helped Ellie sleep. She nestled herself right into Alexia’s chest exactly how you did, leaving a soft smile on your wife’s face. You climbed in beside her and fell asleep immediately, Alexia’s heart feeling full as her girls fell asleep safe in her arms.

You never thought you’d come face to face with your worst nightmare.

“Ellie collapsed while playing football today. We’ve sent her to the nurse’s office but I think it’s best if you take her to the hospital just in case.”

Alexia ran. Faster than she ever has on the pitch. The sound of her cleats rang through the hallways of the Johan Cruyff stadium the moment she got off the phone with you. The look of panic on her face said all she needed to Jonatan and the rest of the girls.

The number of traffic laws she broke would guarantee fines that could amount to her entire week’s salary but she didn’t care. The fear in your voice and the sound of you being close to tears was all the more reason for her to have her foot on the pedal right to the floor. Her Cupra roared as she sped down the highway, tears threatening to fall.

She had one cleat and a slipper on as she rushed into the emergency room, eyes searching for you. You were sat alone at the end of the hallway, head in your hands. She called out your name and you looked up at her, unable to hold it together any longer. You broke just as she grabbed and pulled you into her arms. Alexia couldn’t hold it together the moment you cried in her chest and she broke down too.

“Where is she?” Alexia asked after your crying subsided and she managed to pull herself together.

“She fainted again when I picked her up and they took her…the nurses haven’t said anything either, I’ve asked.”

Alexia stood and kissed your hair, walking over to the nurses’ station just as she heard her last name being called.

“Mrs. Putellas?” the doctor asked, walking out of the trauma room with a look of concern.

“What’s wrong with my daughter?” you jump out of your seat and hurry over, Alexia’s arm immediately around you.

“I need you to come with me,” she said cryptically. You and Alexia follow her into a little discussion room and your heart sinks.

You sit and reach for Alexia whose hand finds yours immediately. She holds it tight in her lap and you listen to the doctor break the news no parent should ever hear.

“She’s dying.”

“No!” you wail, falling into Alexia’s arms. You sob and feel your heart break into a billion pieces, pain just excruciating at the thought of losing your daughter.

Alexia held you tight and listened to the doctor as she explained your daughter’s next steps on how to care for her and how to keep her comfortable. When the doctor left, Alexia held your face in her hands, her tears of pain and anguish mirrored yours.

“We’re doing to do everything we can for her, mi amor. I promise we will get through this.”

But she was a miracle.

Alexia stood in the bathroom with you, nervously biting her cuticles. You sat on the counter and swung your legs, eyes locked on the timer on your phone in your lap.

“How much longer?” Alexia asked, standing right in front of you between your legs.

“2 minutes,” you whisper, hesitantly looking up at her.

“Okay, don’t look so worried amor.”

“What if it’s negative again?” you say, watching the numbers on the timer go lower and lower. She takes your hands in her big ones and you feel their warmth. She kisses them both and caresses her hands up your arms. They gently move down your back and pull your hips closer to the edge. Your hands rest on her chest and she smiles up at you when there’s a minute left on the timer.

“We’re going to have the most beautiful baby, amor. He or she will be perfect in every shape and form. She will have your gorgeous hair and your silly laugh. She will have your mother’s eyes and your father’s smile. She will play football for Blaugrana because I said so.”

You smack her chest and roll your eyes, yelling in shock when the timer goes off. You physically feel your blood pressure skyrocket and your anxiety tingles in your chest. You gently jump off the counter and reach for Alexia’s hand. She takes the test in her hand and slowly turns it over. You’ve got your hands over your eyes and you can barely breathe before she gasps. You’re about to start crying when she whispers the words you’ve been waiting to hear for three years.

“It’s positive.”

She drops the test on the counter and picks you up, hugging you tight. She puts you down and your lips smash together, excited for your miracle baby to enter your lives.

Nine months and the easiest labor all the nurses told you, you held Ellie in your arms. She was the most beautiful thing you ever laid your eyes on. She was gorgeous, a perfect blend of you and Alexia.

She grew up in the blink of an eye, taking her first steps in the gym of Johan Cruyff, saying Mommy as her first word much to Alexia’s chagrin, her first birthday in Eli’s backyard with all the Barça girls, the girls doting on her every time she followed Alexia to training, playdates with Mateo and being pampered by Alexia when you were away for work.

Now at 6 years old, how do you explain to a child that she’s going to die?

I’ll hold your hand till the very end.

No parent should ever bury their child. Everyone knows there is no pain like losing a child. Ellie was in no pain as she deteriorated. She lost all of her beautiful brown hair in three weeks since you found out her diagnosis. She couldn’t go to school and could barely kick a football with Mama. It broke Alexia’s heart when Ellie could no longer pass balls to her in the backyard. You put Ellie to bed for the night and cradled an inconsolable Alexia in your arms for an hour till she stopped crying.

To everyone’s surprise, Alexia was the one whose face was not without a tear even for a second. You held it together well, making all the necessary arrangements to make Ellie as comfortable as possible. After everything was done, you drove home together, hand in hand in your lap. No words were exchanged but all the words that needed to be said were said.

The moment the front door locked, it was like a dam was broken. The wail you let out was a sound that even Alexia had never heard you make before. The pain in your chest was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest at the thought of having to wake up without Ellie jumping on your bed begging for Alexia to make her breakfast.

Alexia could only hope that time would put you back together and that the loss of a child wasn’t something that would ruin you both past the point of no return.  

[depresssant]

title : 'santa maria' aquamarine

yan!gojo x painter!reader

synopsis : he had never spared you a single glance before, but now here he was talking about getting you an aquamarine necklace to match his eyes

—————

“oh, [name]? yeah, that loser always holes herself up in her room."

your older sister's voice could be heard from a mile away with how obnoxious she sounded. 

well, she wasn't wrong.

sighing, you tossed your paintbrush into its cup and took a step back to look at your half-finished work. you spent an entirety of a week on it, not bothering to step out of your room unless it was to change the water in your cup, get food, or clean your paintbrushes. the painting was of a faceless woman in black walking in the opposite direction of all the colorful people as rain stormed from the clouds. she was the only one that didn't have an umbrella.

it reminded you a little of you...

who were you kidding?

the woman in the painting was you.

in the world of jujutsu, you were just a non-sorcerer that could only see curses. your family was a famous and potent clan who's pride was their cursed technique, so to have been born without one was a bad omen in itself. you were to be discarded, ignored, and shunned from what was considered a 'normal society.'

even your own family participated in such a trend, and you had soon found yourself turning into a hermit of sorts. what good did it do to even show your face to the world if the world didn't want to see you? it was a lost cause⏤one that you refused to believe in any longer. living like this until you turned eighteen was really the only option left for you.

you nodded in satisfaction⏤it was a rare occasion for you to be satisfied with one of your pieces⏤and moved to begin cleaning, but all of a sudden, your door swung open as if it was kicked down.

the sight that greeted you made any wisp of happiness you had crumbled away.

"[NAME]!"

when were the two of you on first name basis?

gojo satoru, in all his glowing glory, stormed into your room like a hurricane with a grin that reflected heaven's light itself and a bag of sweets from a bakery you knew all too well. he shut the door with his foot⏤why did he close the door⏤and avoided all the stuff you had laying across the floor before placing the bag on a clear part of your desk and tossing himself onto your bed.

"i've missed you so much, you know!" he whined and grabbed the dinosaur plushie situated in the crack between the wall and the edge of your bed. "you kept it!"

Only because he forced you to.

you sighed in disappointment and grabbed all your cups and paintbrushes to place them in a plastic container headed for the bathroom. "what are you doing here?"

"geez, is that any way to talk to your fiancé?"

"burn in hell."

"whateveeeeerrr! i got you your favorite. the chocolate chip cookie croissant!" the white-haired man rolled his eyes like this was simply playful banter and not literal words from the depths of your heart. he grabbed the bag and after rummaging through, pulled up some packaged good. 

how did he know that was your favorite pastry?

"thank you," you murmured back in reply. "if that's all, please leave. i'm sure sister wants to see you."

you grabbed a paintbrush with a smaller tip to begin adding the little details to the painting, but gojo didn't get the hint. he sat on your chair and looked up at you to watch you paint. there was a smirk on his face that told you he knew something you didn't, and it got under your skin like a parasite.

"stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"i said stop looking at me like that!"

"ugh, fine! you're no fun! how are we supposed to spend the rest of our lives together if you act so cold? you know... i know tomorrow is your birthday."

... shit.

your hold tightened on your paintbrush, but you sighed and shrugged. "okay? and?"

"I just wanted to ask because i know emerald is your favorite. we should've went shopping for it before the wedding, but i figured that since you didn't like going out, i'd just get them myself. what type of ring do you want? emerald? diamond? ruby? oh! i should get you one of those, uh, santa maria aquamarine gems! it matches my eyes, aaaannnndddd we can make it into a necklace for you!"

emerald? diamond? a wedding ring...

not a ring. a curse trapping you with him forever.

you remembered not too long ago when he had asked you if you wanted to wear a western styled gown or a traditional kimono picked out by his mother, and you thought he was joking. he had hated you for so long⏤going as far as to making your life physically hell, but then he strangely flipped a switch? you were supposed to believe that the man who scarred you as a means to rebel against your future marriage with him suddenly jumped in excitement at the sight of you? a man who didn't bother to glance your way for seven and a half straight years before finally talking to you willingly just magically knew all your likes and dislikes, the future dates on your calendar, and every contact on your phone?

damn it.

why did your parents pick you to get engaged with him instead of your sister?

"[name]? are you ignoring me again?"

huh?

"no! no, i'm not!" you lightly shook your head, but the damage had been done.

gojo rose and took off his glasses as a menacing look in his eyes was pinned on you. he grabbed a hold of your waist, hugging you from behind so tightly you felt like your ribs would shatter. his cheek rested on your shoulder, and the words that he whispered in your ear felt like your doom being set in stone.

he tightened his hold on you as a hand came to wrap around your throat.

"i don't think you know you're mine."

and he squeezed.

"forever."

[holdmytesseract]

A Stroke Of Fate

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N

Summary: Life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. You and Loki learn that in a very hard way. A path you are forced to walk on, which puts your love, relationship and even marriage to the test.

Warnings: 18+! MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING! PROCEED WITH CAUTION! Angst, grief, sadness, loss, fights, mentions of injuries, pregnancy/pregnancy loss! trauma, misunderstandings, inappropriate touching - no rape, but it goes in that direction, violence? fluff! tiny bit of suggestive smut - blink and you'll miss it. Tell me if I missed something!

Word Count: 6k

a/n: This is most likely the saddest thing I have ever written - and it hurt me to the very core to do this to Y/N and Loki, but I had to. The idea was in my head for a long time. I fully blame 'Stay' by Rihanna and Mikky Echo.

Also, this isn't just another Baby Fever fic... This takes their story into a new direction - kind of...

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Loki’s eyes widened in realisation; jaw slacking. He wasn't able to move a single muscle. All he could do was stare. Stare at the tiny, seemingly plain object laying inside his big palms.

Millions of thoughts ran through his head at lightning speed. The god's heart pounded violently against his ribcage. He tried to focus, but he couldn't. Too overwhelmed by the various emotions coursing through his veins.

But at last, he felt how the happiness finally took the upper hand and overweighed everything.

Tears started to pool in his oceanic blues; clouding his vision. And with the first tears falling from the corner of his eyes, Loki sunk to his knees on the bathroom floor; clutching the small object tightly against his chest; crying.

All he wanted was to get a towel from the little cabinet underneath the sink to clean up the mess two-year-old baby Narfi had made with his sippy cup - and now he was holding the future in his hands. Literally.

Loki had anticipated a lot... But certainly not to find a positive pregnancy test. Obviously, your pregnancy test; hidden in between the towels.

"Rogers!" Loki called after Cap, before he could step inside the elevator. The blond man's eyes lifted and landed on the god, who was literally jogging down the long hallway, with little Narfi on his arm.

"Have... Have you seen my wife?" He asked; tears still pricking his eyes. Steve raised an eyebrow and thoroughly scanned the prince's features. "Is everything alright, Laufeyson?" Loki nodded quickly; causing his raven locks to gently bounce against his shoulders. "More than alright, Rogers. Now have you seen my wife?" "Um, yes, I- I think she's in the training room, testing her new combat suit. At least that's what Y/N said earlier when we-" Loki slapped Steve's shoulder; interrupted him. "Thank you, Rogers." The god smiled at Steve and rushed past him; quickly pressing the button on the elevator.

Before the soldier could react, the metallic doors shut close in front of him.

Loki could barely contain his excitement. Something the little man on his arm noticed as well...

Narfi looked at his father with big ruby eyes. Sure, he didn't understand the situation, but the boy also didn't have to yet. He was still so young. Lifting a little blue hand, Narfi touched his father's cheek; feeling a tear against his tiny fingers. "Daddy?"

Loki smiled at his son. He adjusted the two-year-old on his arm and turned his head; kissing his palm and blew a raspberry against the skin - which caused Narfi to giggle and Loki to smile even wider. "Let's go, see mommy, yes?" He run his free hand through Narfi's short black curls; still fighting the tears. "See mama?" The god nodded; chuckling. "Yes, little man."

With a ding arrived the elevator on the 5th floor and the doors slid open. Loki stepped out and let Narfi stand on his own small two feet. Then the god squatted down and quickly fixed the boy's jumper. Today he wore the beige one with the dinosaurs on it - gifted to him by his uncle Scott. Narfi's forest green sweatpants needed adjustment, too, since they were still a little too big. After that was done, he stood up again and took Narfi by his hand. "Come one, buddy."

Together, they rounded the corner and entered the training room - well, rather small hall. It had everything an Avenger needed to prepare and train for missions.

Loki’s eyes immediately searched for you - and they found you quickly. You were standing on a mat; doing some stretches, launches and small jumps. Testing your new combat suit - like Steve said. If it weren't for all the Serotonin and Oxytocin coursing through his veins, he'd probably ravish you right then and there. Anyways, he was happy that no one was around...

Narfi was the one to announce your men's arrival. As soon as he saw you, he squealed out and ran as fast as his little legs carried him towards you.

"Mama!"

You immediately turned at the call of your child; seeing Narfi and Loki. You smiled and squatted down; ready to catch the boy. "Mama!" "Hey, sweetie!" You hugged him close and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Are you and daddy visiting me?" Your son nodded. "Uh.Huh." "Ohh, that's great." You ruffled his hair and stood up again to greet Loki.

"Hey, babe." You smiled and wrapped your arms around your husband's neck. "Hello, love." He placed his hands on your hips; pulling you closer. That was the moment you saw tears glistening in his eyes. He cried... You were of course immediately worried; your brows slanting. "Loki, why are you crying? What is-" He interrupted you with his lips on yours; kissing you with all the love he possessed for you.

Only Narfi's little tuck on his sweatpants was able to break the kiss. "Daddy! Narfi pway ball?" Both, yours and Loki's gaze followed Narfi's pointing. Loki chuckled; realising that the blue softball the boy always played with when he was with you or Loki laid only a few meters away from him. "Sure, buddy, go play."

Narfi ran away; giggling and started to kick the ball across the floor.

"Loki, what is it? You are crying, what's the matter?" Your husband smiled; thumbs tracing over your clothed hips. "I love your new suit." You couldn't help but smile as well, but still quite a bit confused. "Thank you, I... I thought it was time for a new one." "It fits you, my love. You look absolutely ravishing, if I might say so." You bit your lip; noticing the naughty, mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "Ahh, I see..." You giggled and pulled him into another kiss; not forgetting to cast an eye on your son now and then.

With a soft pop ended Loki the kiss - still smiling like a Cheshire cat. "But... You won't need this suit very much longer, right?" He whispered, and you could see how another tear rolled down his cheek.

And suddenly it fell like scales from your eyes. Your brain had quickly connected the dots.

You swallowed. "You... You found the-" "Pregnancy test, yes." Loki finished your sentence with a small sob. "B-But how? I thought I hid it so well..." The god chuckled; shaking his head. A tear dropped from his chin on his sweater. "Not good enough, my love. Narfi spilled water over the table with his sippy cup a-and I needed a towel, so..." You face-palmed yourself. "So you looked in the cupboard underneath the sink, of course. Silly me..." You giggled along Loki, who pulled you closer again.

"I assume you planned to surprise me. I apologise for ruining it." You shook your head; playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. "Indeed yes, but it's okay. It's been a surprise for you nevertheless..." Your husband shook his head - still in disbelief and with silent tears running down his cheeks. "I can't believe that this little joke of ours turned into reality so quick." "Well... I have been asking for it and challenged you, so..." A deep chuckle rumbled through Loki's chest. "Never challenge a half Frost Giant in spring to such things." "Yup, lesson learned," you giggled.

Your husband wrapped you up in a big hug then; holding you close, while you kissed his tears away. "No, honestly, darling... This is great," he whispered; gazing deeply into his eyes. Loki was positively radiating happiness - you could feel it. You nodded. "It is."

He kissed you once again; soft lips melting against yours.

You and Loki sat down on one of the benches then, which lined the wall beside the entrance; watching Narfi play and burn off energy. You had placed a hand on his thigh - which Loki had now wrapped up in his bigger hand.

"When did you take the test, love? And do you know how far along you are? I tried to figure it out myself, but we do way too much love making to do so." A snort, followed by a laugh slipped past your lips and you slapped his thigh. "Loki!" "What?" He asked; smiling mischievously and shrugged his shoulders. "It's the truth, is it not?" You just giggled, but nodded.

He wasn't wrong, after all.

"I took the test three days ago, but I have absolute no idea how far along I am. I'm gonna call my gynaecologist tomorrow and make an appointment." You smiled and squeezed his hand. "You could accompany me..." Loki gazed into your eyes and tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "I'd love to."

Just a few days later, you had your appointment at your gynaecologist's. Loki accompanied you. Ella was at school and Narfi with his auntie Nat. A white lie needed to be told to your best friend, since you didn't want to shout the good news from the rooftops yet.

The pregnancy test you took didn't lie to you. You were, in fact, pregnant again. Five weeks, said your gynaecologist, so it was new, fresh and vulnerable. You and Loki decided to tell it nobody yet. Not a single soul. Not even Frigga. And it turned out to be the right decision, because what happened only three weeks later was something you never thought would happen. At least to you...

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" You asked Loki, while you stood in front of the mirror. The god was leaning against the wall of the bathroom behind you. He had his hair tied up into a bun and his hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants. "No, thank you, darling. I'd rather stay here with the kids." You giggled and caught his gaze in the mirror. "Does that mean you prefer Ella's tea party over a night out?"

Loki couldn't help but smirk, "Oh, definitely." and join your laughter.

"Alright..." You started; lastly applying some perfume to complete your look. "I'll be going now." You turned to face your husband. Placing both hands on his chest, you leaned in to kiss him.

Loki nodded; pulling you closer by the belt around your waist. "Take care, alright? Please, by the love of the Norns, look after yourself and the little bean, yes?" You rubbed your palms across his pecs. "Of course, my love. I promise." You kissed him again and then left the bathroom. "And no alcohol!" You heard Loki calling after you. "I know, babe!" You giggled.

After you bid your goodbye to Ella and Narfi; giving them both a big smooch on the cheek, you met up with Nat and Jane to go out for a, well... small girl's night out.

The actual plan was to do a 'couple night's out' - but none of the boys wanted to join in and Pepper and Jane didn't have time in the end as well. Therefore it was just you, Nat and Wanda.

"No Loki?" asked Jane as you walked out of the building. "Nope... He preferred Ella's tea party." That had the three of you giggling. "Understandable," threw Nat in. "Ella's tea parties are the best."

You and the girls headed for your favourite bar; talked, danced and definitely had fun. It seemed like a perfect night. At that point, you not waisted one thought that it could turn some way somehow sour...

But it did. In the worst way possible. A harmless night, which turned into a nightmare.

Shaky hands reached for your mobile. It was almost midnight. You had danced around this for minutes now; not conjuring enough bravery to call him. By now you've tried about a million times - failing.

So, once more you took a deep breath, squeezed your red and teary eyes shut and swallowed the lump in your throat. Your finger hovered above the green button beside your husband's contact.

I have to, I have to, I need to, I want to, you repeated within your head like a mantra, now or never - and finally tapped on the button.

His phone rang. One, two, three, four, a fifth time. You already were on the verge of hanging up when a sleep filled voice croaked out: "Darling?"

On every other day you'd have found Loki's sleepy voice drop-dead sexy... Not today.

"L-Loki?" You heard a bit of a rustling on the other end. "M here, my love, 'm here," he said huskily; "Wha' is it?" audibly trying to wake up. You swallowed hard. "I-I..." You had to cut off your own sentence, in order to hold back the tears - unsuccessfully. A small sob slipped past your quivering lips. Something the god on the other end picked up. It didn't slip his notice.

He immediately sat up and switched on the lamp above his bedside table; wide awake all of a sudden. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I... I am at t-the h-hospital."

Loki's eyes widened instantly in shock and fear; his heartbeat skyrocketing. "I beg your pardon; you are where?" You swallowed again; feeling the tears run down your cheeks. "The h-hospital."

Loki was already jumping out of bed.

"What?! Why?! By the Norns, what happened?! Are you hurt?!"

You wanted to scream.

"T-There was... was an incident at the b-bar and-" Loki was already slipping inside a white shirt; hastily buttoning it up and totally forgetting about his magical abilities at that moment. All he could think about was you... And his unborn child.

"I'm coming, love! I'm on my way, I-" "No," you interrupted your husband; causing him to stop dead in his movements - frowning.

"Stay w-with the kids, okay? You..." Fresh tears ran down your cheeks. "You can't leave them a-alone." "But..." Loki threw immediately in; blinded by his fear and worry about the woman he loved; about to just act headless. "Please, Loki, please," you pleaded. "Natasha is going t-to take me home. I-I just wanted to... To tell you."

Your words confused Loki. She can leave the hospital already? "B-But, love, what-" You couldn't take this anymore. You didn't have the strength to talk to him further - and you'd need all your remaining power to keep up the façade later in front of your best friend. "I'll tell you later, I p-promise," you managed to somehow choke out...

...and hung up.

Natasha and you had returned to the Avengers compound about an hour later. Now you were standing in front of the door to your family's apartment. You were exhausted. So utterly exhausted. All your power spent on crying and pretending everything was alright. All you wanted was to break down and cry yourself to sleep - but you had to talk to your husband first...

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside the dark apartment. Mostly dark apartment. The only light source came from the living room. He was waiting for you. Of course he was waiting for you.

You could already picture it in your head. He'd walk up and down in the room; worried and afraid - like a caged and hurt animal.

You took a deep breath; gathered all your leftover strength and made your way into the living room.

Loki was indeed walking up and down the room, but currently had his back to you and a hand in his messy curls. You swallowed.

"Loki..."

The soft, almost inaudible call of his name attracted his attention. He swiftly turned around; facing you. Worry was written all over his face. Your husband's eyes widened, "Y/N!" before he literally ran over to you. His big palms landed on the sides of your upper arms and his oceanic, tear stained blues wandered up and down your body; searching for injuries. "What happened?! What is wrong?! How are you feeling?!" The god's mind was racing - already. And you'd make it worse.

Tears pooled in your eyes again, just at the mere thought of what you were going to tell him.

"At... At the bar, there was an... an incident and-" While you spoke, his palms had wandered down your arms and to your hands. He lifted them gently and wanted to kiss your knuckles, as a frown formed on his forehead. "Y/N, what..." Loki interrupted you; thumbs brushing over the bruises on your wrists. "What is this? Tell me what happened, please. Right now."

You swallowed again, nodding. "There was a-a man. He... He had his eyes on me the whole evening. I could feel it. He was watching me. Just me. Not N-Nat or Wanda. Me." You could already see how Loki's jaw tightened. Anger was taking over his system already. "At s-some point I had to go to the ladies. He... He followed me. He said that he had cast an... an eye on me and that he would like to..." You cut off your own sentence. Not that you needed to finish it. Loki knew what you were going to say. "I refused, of course. T-Tried to stay polite and leave, but... He didn't let me. He... He trapped me inside the ladies, caged me against the wall." That's where the bruises come from, Loki thought. "I fought against it - against him. He was so strong."

Loki felt like he could burst because of the anger and fear running through his veins. "Please tell me he didn't..."

You knew what he wanted to say and quickly shook your head. "N-No, I headbutted him, t-then kicked him in the balls a-and perhaps even broke his nose." A relieved breath left your husbands lips. "That's my girl."

"He fled then, but..." Loki’s face hardened again. "But what?" Deep down the god knew there must have happened something else. Unless Natasha and Wanda wouldn't have taken you to the hospital.

"He... He had slammed my head against the wall, which resulted in a small cut and-" "There's more?!" You could already hear in his voice that he was furious once more. You knew that he'd love to find that guy right now and do terrible, awful things to him.

You nodded once more. "When he grabbed me, I... I tried to fight against him a-and escape. I almost made it, but then he..." You had to swallow down the lump in your throat and suppress the tears. "He kneed me in the s-stomach to prevent me from e-escaping."

Your husband's mind was way too clouded with anger and fear. He couldn't think clearly, and therefore was unable to connect the dots. Norse curse words spluttered from his lips and his eyes darkened. Threat his family and you'll bring out the darkest side of him - you knew that.

"I'll find him, my love." "Loki." You spoke in a weak voice, trying to get through to him. "I'll find him and then I'll kill him." "Loki." "Slowly and intimately." "Loki, please." "I'll make him pay for what he did to you and-" You couldn't take it any longer. You had to tell him.

"Loki, I lost the baby."

Your sentence cut through the air like his daggers through skin. Loki's mouth clapped shut and a very unpleasant silence spread in the living room. He needed a second to process your words. You just stared at him; silent tears running down your cheeks and dripping on your blouse, as you watched Loki fall apart in front of you.

"W-What?" He croaked out; seemingly still unable to grasp this.

"I... I lost our baby."

He started to shake his head. "No, that's... It can't be. Everything was alright!" "I know," you sobbed. "But I was at the hospital... They checked. The incident caused the m-miscarriage." You stepped closer and reached for his hands. Loki blinked; tears escaping the corner of his eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry."

You wanted to hug your husband; catch him mid-falling and preferably crash on the hard ground of reality together with him - but he took a step back. "No, no, no, no..." His hands suddenly dropped yours. Without his touch, you had never felt more cold and lonely.

"Loki, what-" "This is your fault." He suddenly exclaimed; driving an invisible dagger straight through your heart. "It's your fault, Y/N and you know it. I told you! I told you to stay and not go in the first place! I told you to take it easy this early in the pregnancy!" He ran both his hands over his face and tugged frustratingly at his raven curls, while you just stood there; frozen. You didn't know what was happening.

"We almost lost Narfi, because you explicitly wanted to accompany me to that stupid charity event and now?! Now exactly that happened, of what I've always been afraid of! Of what I've always warned you! But no... You just didn't want to listen!"

You were still staring at him, mouth agape. This wasn't real, you thought. I must be dreaming.

"M-My... My fault?" You croaked out; feeling like you were going to fall apart. "Yes!" Loki hissed. "You heard what I said, did you not?!" Sure, you understood that this was equally as hard and sad as it was for you. You understood the cocktail of emotions which must be brewing inside of him, but that... That was unacceptable. You hoped he'd catch you, be there for you, grieve together with you... But certainly not that he'd blame you.

"How can you blame me for this? I didn't kick myself in the gut, did I? Besides, you could've just accompanied me! Perhaps all of this would've never happened, but no, Mr. Laufeyson didn't want to!" You felt how anger rose within you as well. It was just too much.

"Me?!" Loki hissed; pressing his pointer finger in the muscle on his chest. "Oh, I'm the one to blame now?! Sure... It's easy to blame me - for everyone! Just blame the former war criminal. Just blame the untrustworthy god. Just blame the monster from another realm - and all your problems are solved!" He laughed bitterly; shaking his head.

"That's... That's not what I meant - and you know it!" Your husband cocked his head. "Oh no? It's not? Enlighten me then, Y/N!"

You sighed. "Look... I understand your worries. I really do, but I can't just sit on the sofa 24/7 and not move a muscle, just because I'm pregnant! That's not how it works!"

Loki snorted. "Well, it should! As you can see, everything else is apparently not working!" You shook your head; stepped closer to Loki. "We... We just lost our baby... Shouldn't we... Shouldn't we grieve toge-" The god interrupted you, tears streaming down his face. "Yes, and I'm not the one to blame." With those words he brushed past you, "I will be sleeping on the sofa tonight." and left you behind; feeling more cold and lonely than you ever did in your whole life before...

The loss of the new life growing within you and the fight you and Loki had that night caused a wide rift to appear between the two of you. It split your relationship apart. Everything else would be a lie.

You felt how he grew cold and distant. Just like you did. The once perfectly harmonic, loving and desiring bond cracked.

Sure, there had always been fights, misunderstandings and disagreements - totally normal things. But this... This was different.

...and you just didn't know how to stop your marriage from falling apart...

Whenever you tried to speak with him about the topic, he'd immediately steered the conversation into a different direction. Hence, he talked less to you in general. No deep conversations anymore, no love declarations - nothing.

The communication lacked, just like the physical touch. You'd get a kiss from time to time, yes, but nothing more. Barely cuddles, no long, intimate kisses and certainly no sex.

It hurt you. To the core - but the sad thing about it all was, that you actually hadn't a single reason to complain, because you weren't better. You gave him just as little as he gave you. It was a mutual thing - and at some point didn't go unnoticed anymore...

"Y/N."

"Y/N, hey."

Natasha's voice urged to your ears, but didn’t reach your brain. All you did was staring ahead; totally lost in thoughts. Only when you felt her touch on your shoulder was your best friend able to get through to you.

"Babes, your glass in flowing over." You snapped your head down at her words; eyes widening. "Shit, shit, shit." You hastily turned off the tap, while Nat helped you to dry the outside of the glass, so you could wipe your hands on a kitchen towel.

"Thanks, Nat." You took the glass, "I-I've been a bit lost in thoughts." and gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I saw that," the Widow pointed out and crossed her arms over her chest, before she leaned against the bar counter across from you.

"Okay, babes... We definitely need to talk." You swallowed; frowning. "Talk? W-Why?"

Nat scoffed. "Oh, please stop that, Y/N... You can't fool me. Perhaps the others around us, but not me. Something's off. I can tell. You've been so absent-minded lately. Always in thoughts and very quiet. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes either - and..." She gave you an intense look. "... the most worrying thing... You behave differently around Loki. More distant. Colder. Less touchy." Her eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong between you two? And no, don't tell me it has just been a small fight, because this goes already on for at least two weeks. I saw it. So, don't even try to shit me, girl."

You swallowed again. That was clearly an order. You already knew that you weren’t going to lie yourself out of this situation, but... Did you even want that? Perhaps it was good to finally get this off your chest...

So, you nodded; nervously fumbling with your hands. "You... You are right. But, please can we talk about this in private?" Her eyes widened. "It is that bad?" You took a deep breath; nodding again."I'm afraid, yes."

Natasha nodded; rubbing your upper arm in a reassuring manner. "Let's head over to mine. Bruce is in the lab."

You followed your best friend to her apartment and only five minutes later sat down on her sofa; Nat following. "He didn't cheat on you, did he? Because if this fucker did, I'm going to cut off his ba-" "He didn't," you immediately interrupted her. "Loki never would. I know that. You know that." The red-haired beauty looked you straight in the eyes. "What did he do then?"

You swallowed. Memories of that night four weeks back started to flood your brain and causing you to hold back the tears.

"Remember that night where... Where we were at that bar? You, Wanda and I? And that incident with that strange man? You, taking me to the hospital afterwards?" The spy nodded; "Of course, yes." listening to you patiently. "I told you it was about the cut on the back of my head - and that was the truth, but... There was also something else..." You had to take a deep breath.

No one besides Loki had known about the pregnancy... Until now.

"He kneed me in the stomach - which wouldn't have been that much of a problem, but in my case it was, because I..." Your best friend's eyes widened. She was smart and therefore seemingly already had connected the dots. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Nat's eyes dropped to your stomach, before they lifted to face you again. "Are you...? Again?"

You nodded. "Pregnant, yes. I-I was pregnant again." Those words still hurt you more than you thought. You lowered your head; feeling a few silent tears running down your cheek.

"No... You... Oh my gosh..." Natasha gasped; immediately reached for your hand. "You're telling me that this wanker caused you to have a... miscarriage?" "Yes."

"Shit, I'm so sorry, babes. Gods, that's horrible. Come here." Your best friend hugged you tightly against her chest; just letting you cry for a while.

"And... Loki?" You snivelled. "Well, that's the point... I told him afterwards. We kinda had a fight and... He blamed me, I blamed him and ever since we didn't properly talk. We are drifting more and more apart. What had happened, split our relationship. We are losing each other - and it kills me." "Why didn't you talk with him then?" You swallowed; shaking your head.

"Because I feel like the rift between us is already too big. I won't make the jump." Nat squeezed your hand. "But you gotta try, babes. You love that man, right? He's your soulmate. The love of your life. Your baby daddy." You nodded. "Yes, I... I do. With all my heart." "See? You gotta try. But remember... It takes two to tango."

Her last words roamed through your head even several hours after the conversation. Perhaps it was really both your faults... You took a deep breath. You and Loki had to save this ship from sinking - at all costs. You didn't want to lose him. Never.

"Daddy?" Loki looked up at Ella. She was seated on the sofa backrest above him; legs dangling over his shoulders, as she was braiding several plaits into his long raven locks.

"Yes, princess?"

"You love mommy, right?"

The god's eyebrows slanted. "Of course, princess. Why are you asking?" The little girl shrugged her shoulders. "Because you and mommy don't have private time anymore."

Loki swallowed; realisation hitting him like a truck – completely out of the blue. "Well..." He cleared his throat. "Sometimes, we have little time for this, you know?" "Oh... Okay." Ella paused and Loki hoped that she'd just drop that topic know.

She did. Almost.

"Is mommy happy?" Ella dropped the next question, while small hands worked through another strand of her father's hair.

Again, Loki had to swallow - hard. "Y-Yes, I think so, why?" Yes, it was a lie. But he couldn't tell his eight-year-old daughter that you just lost her baby sibling, could he?

"But why is mommy crying so often then?"

Ella's next words hit Loki even harder. It felt like his heart was jumping over the edge of a cliff; free falling and shattering into a million pieces.

"W-What?" He croaked out; mouth falling agape.

"I see and hear mommy cry a lot."

Loki wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. You had shut him out - of course you did. After all he said why wouldn't you? You had every reason to banish him.

He blamed you; acted headless and stupid. He pushed you away when you needed him most. He fucked it up - real bad this time.

"I'm a fool..." Loki mumbled underneath his breath to himself. "I'm such a fool..."

"What did you say, daddy?" His daughter's innocent voice cut through the air once again. "Nothing, princess..." Loki answered; shaking his head. "I'm going to talk to mommy, okay?" Blue eyes looked up to meet his identical ones. "Will you make her feel better?" A breathless laugh escaped the gods lips; tears dripping down his chin. "Yes, princess... By the Norns, yes."

Loki watched you move through the kitchen from the hallway. He had just tucked the kids in and was finally able to talk with you. The conversation was long due.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer; feeling his heart hammering against his chest. He was so nervous. So afraid. What if you couldn't forgive him? What if he was going to lose you?

"Y/N?" The god called out your name softly. "Yes?" Your voice was cold. Distant.

A shiver ran down his spine.

"Darling, we... We need to talk... Please."

You froze in your movement; back towards your husband.

"Why? When I tried to talk to you a few weeks ago, you blocked me." Loki swallowed hard; Adam's apple bobbing within his throat. "I-I know, but... I see clearly now." He cautiously approached you. "I am so sorry, my love. I know now that I really fucked it up. I was- am such a fool. Norns, I don't know what has gotten into me. I... I just... saw red. Blaming you for the loss of our baby is the worst thing I ever did in my whole life." Tears pooled in his eyes, as you turned to face him.

"I pushed you away when you needed me the most. I should've been there for you. I should've supported you and help you through this, but no... I did the exact opposite." Loki paused for a moment; trying desperately to control his tears.

"I know what I did is unacceptable and I can't expect you to forgive me, but..." The god felt how his knees started to buckle. The weight of the possibility that you weren’t going to forgive him or even worse... Leave him, was hitting him full force. All his strength left his body and he fell down on his knees in front of you. "I-I'm begging you for forgiveness. Please, my love, please... I beg of you. Please don't leave me. I couldn't take it, I-" The lump in his throat cut off his sentence. All he could do was cry.

You witnessed the scenes in front of you; heart shattering.

"Loki..." Your soft, almost angelic voice urged to his ears. "Loki, I... I would never, ever - not in my wildest dreams leave you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I never could, I... I love you."

Blue eyes looked up at you in disbelief. "W-What? You... You forgive m-me?" You nodded; feeling tears build up in your eyes as well. You couldn't help but lower your hands and cup your husband's tear stained cheeks; feeling his soft skin underneath your palm. "Of course, my love."

Loki blinked. "Why? I treated you so bad. Something I swore I'd never do and yet I did... I blamed you for... For something which was entirely my fault."

You frowned. "Your fault? Why would this be your fault?" You wiped away another tear with your thumb. "It isn't, Loki. When it's somebody's fault, it's mine. You were right. It is my fault. I should've been more careful." "No..." Loki shook his head quickly. "No, Y/N, stop that right now, please... Don't blame yourself. I should've protected you better... And the baby, I... I failed."

You feared that your heart was going to stop beating right then and there. It hurt. Seeing Loki like that destroyed you. "No, Loki..." You sobbed and sunk to the floor as well; immediately embracing him. "We both failed, but... It happened. We can't change the past. We have to live with it." You felt Loki nod against your shoulder. "I-I know."

You squeezed him tightly against your body, just like Loki frantically tried to hold on to you. Finally, you felt better again. Since weeks. You had missed the comforting touch of your husband. It was all you ever wanted and needed. Just like he did.

You almost physically felt how the rift between you got smaller and smaller with each passing minute.

You had found each other again.

Neither of you knew how much time had passed. An hour? Two? More? But it also didn't matter. Not right now, not here. You were still embracing each other; your hand gently running through his long curls. "We're going to make this, okay? Together. Like everything before." Another nod from Loki. He was overwhelmed by all the emotions running through his veins. "Yes."

And you did.

Sure, what had happened didn't fail to leave marks on both you and Loki; a deep scar carved into your heart and soul - but it also didn't fail to make your bond stronger. Even if it did not seem like it at first.

Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @simping-for-marvel @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake @anukulee @lady-rose-moon @ainsley30 @lovingchoices14 @lokischambermaid @irishhappiness @mandywholock1980 @totsnotlynn

[chibigo-ma]

Preview of ❝The Little Human Experiment❞ [Legoshi]

Summary: Misaki was just your typical teenage girl living in Japan, but not in the eyes of her society. She's a human in a life where animals live and think like "humans" in our society. She is now brought in as an experiment for her new life outside her facility to see if humans can co-exist with different other species. A certain wolf gets quite attached to our human friend as he is tasked to protect her.

Edit (13.07.2024): Man... after two months of being inactive... AhhCHOO 🫴 WATTPAD STORY LINK | AO3 STORY LINK I can't believe I didn't share a link..............

"Going already?" Mei asked as Misaki grabbed her bag. "Yeah, I have to go over there now to facilitate the choreography for the Light Ceremony," Misaki said as she patted Haru's head. "Get back soon!" Haru waved at her human friend before she left.

Misaki opened her phone to text Shiela that she would go to the clubroom as soon as she walked down the stairs. As she made her way to the clubroom though, she witnessed Juno carrying a sloth to the restroom. "Misaki-senpai!" Juno greeted with a smile as she placed the sloth down. "Ah, hello, Juno. Late for rehearsal?" Misaki asked as they walked to the clubroom together. 

"Yeah, I am. I apologize. Are you late too, Misaki-senpai?" Juno asked as Misaki texted Shiela once again that Juno was with her. "Not really. I come in and out of the clubroom as I have two clubs to deal with," she shared. "Woah, really? You must be very busy then. It's still remarkable as you're still the assistant head," Juno had great admiration for the human as she clung to her.

"Assistant director, but still the same," Misaki corrected as she opened the door. "Sorry, I'm late!" Juno announces her arrival while still holding onto Misaki. Misaki raised an eyebrow as she noticed how tense the room was until they came in the room. The majority of the members went up to the two.

"Come on, Juno! You're supposed to text Sheila-senpai when you're late," Els informed the first-year. "She was carrying a sloth to the restroom, so her hands were occupied. It was very kind of you, Juno," Misaki acknowledges Juno's willingness. "Why, thank you, Misaki-senpai!" Juno was happy with Misaki's compliment. 

"I've also made sure that Shiela got the memo and to not get you in trouble, so no need to worry," Misaki shared as everyone was wow-ed by Misaki's consideration. "But it doesn't excuse me for being late, so I want to clean the training hall after school. Sorry, Louis-senpai," Juno apologized as she bowed. 

"Oh, Legoshi-senpai!" Juno called out to the gray wolf. "I saw the dinosaur in the plaza. It was really pretty. The stage crew is doing their best, so we actors are going to do our best with our dancing practice. We're very inspired!" Juno smiled widely and only had her eyes on him. "...Mm, good, good," Legoshi doesn't seem affected by Juno's comment. 

"Yeah, you guys did great. Seeing as it's also my first time seeing it, I'm proud of each one of you. I'll be sure to take pictures of all of them when they're finished," Misaki smirked and showed that her lock screen was now the T-Rex Statue they painted, making sure she looked everyone in the eye. 

"Aww, Misaki!" Dom looked flattered. "I'm happy it exceeded your expectations!" Kibi smiled as everyone in the creatives team was appreciative of Misaki's honest remark. "Ah, speaking of, Misaki," Shiela walked up to the human and dragged her towards Louis. "We have some sudden news to share with you," she shared as Louis glared at the cheetah due to her comment before. 

"Yes, Sanu suggested that you'll be our main dancer," Louis mentioned and Misaki was shocked. "What!? What do you mean? I'll be at the front?" Misaki covered her mouth with her hand. "One of our dancers won't be available for the festival and you know the dances well. So, they made Juno be back up and you in the center since you know the dance very well," he shared.

"There's only two days left though," she looked worried. "You'll do fine, you the entire dance anyway," Louis was confident. "Did... did Tarok tell you that I'll be revealed too? Is that why you weren't opposed to it?" Misaki asked. 

"Yes, he did tell me. I asked his permission for the dance and he's fine with it. You won't be wearing that get-up anymore," Louis smirked and Misaki sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll do it. I'll text Haru that I have a big role here so they won't have to worry about my whereabouts," Misaki shared as she went to grab her phone to text her. 

"We'll do a quick fitting with you. I'm sure they'll just readjust one of the existing outfits," Louis told her as Misaki was ready to walk away. "I'll let Legoshi know," Louis smirked upon seeing Misaki frozen in place. He chuckled and patted her back and walked away from her to talk to Legoshi. She quickly ran to the changing room and walked out wearing her PE Uniform. 

"Woah, you do have fur in your legs," Juno wondered as she gave a close inspection of Misaki's legs. "They're called Hair for humans. Despite it being short and thin, they make sure they regulate our body temperature and keep dirt away such as my lashes here," Misaki pointed her eyes to let Juno get a closer look. 

"Woah, they're so tiny," Juno giggled. As everyone was talking to Misaki and was excited to see her fully perform on stage, Legoshi kept his eyes only on her. He looked up and down her figure as he felt aroused by her appearance. 

"Stop eye fucking, my sister." Legoshi snapped out of it and shrank away as Louis glared at him. Louis was most annoyed upon seeing Legoshi's wagging tail when Misaki came into the room. "Sister?" Legoshi questioned. "She's like a sister to me, so don't go hurting her," Louis crossed his arms as it would seem that he was finally open for Misaki to be together with Legoshi. 

"So whatever happened before they came in was a misunderstanding on your part," Louis pointed out. "You got the tape measure ready?" Louis asked. 

"Oh, yeah, I do," Legoshi went to pull it out, "Fix your problem first," Louis interrupted and he walked away. "Problem?" Legoshi questioned. He looked down to see a tent in his pants. He panics and quickly runs to the restroom. He could not believe he just had a hard-on. It embarrassed him more to notice his tail wagging faster than ever. He really wants to disappear.

"Where's Legoshi?" Misaki asked after she got away from the questioning members. "He went to the restroom real quick. Dom will be measuring you instead," Louis informed her as he tried hiding his laughter, which Misaki noticed but she didn't question it. She would truly have a heart attack if she knew that she had such an effect on Legoshi.

[snuggerudsz]

NOWHERE ELSE l QH43

SUMMARY: It didn't matter how tired Quinn was, coming home to his family was all he needed.

PAIRING: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hello!!! I wanted to get something out when Quinn's captaincy was announced but I didn't have a lot of time. So, this is only coming out today. Genuinely love this, but I am biased for anything domestic with Quinn Hughes. There will be some more dad!Quinn coming in the future, 100%. Likes and reblogs are always welcomed. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!!! <3333

If Quinn Hughes had to verbalize how he was feeling, the only word he could use was drained. Truthfully, the man was convinced the English language was incapable of coming up with a word that could summon how exhausted he was. 

He had been away for a few days, and while the first few games had gone really well, the Canucks got themselves in a string of hard losses, with the media and the public watching and criticizing his every move. 

The defenseman sighed in relief, unlocking the door and silently walking into the house. Surprisingly, he wasn’t the only one up at this ungodly hour of the morning. Quinn could hear your humming from the kitchen, soon following the sound. You were cleaning up the kitchen, finishing up with the dishes when he made himself known, hugging you from behind, head low, kissing your neck softly.

“Hi, baby,” You greet your husband, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

“Hello, my love” He answers, muffled by your skin. “Kinda late to be doing the dishes, though, honey.”

You sighed as she turned around to face Quinn, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“The kids were so excited to stay up and see you, so I let them wait up a bit,” You stated, voice full of affection, “but they ended up falling asleep.” Quinn smiled, his hands resting lightly on your hips.

“I'm sorry they missed out,” he replied, his voice gentle, “but I'm glad I get to have you all to myself.” 

“Me too,” You agree, speaking softly, and smiling back at him.

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, he lets a yawn escape. You look at him, noticing his eyes droopy with sleep, and pull his hand into yours, taking him into your bedroom. Both of you do your nightly routine, and while you’re busy with your skincare, Quinn goes to see the kids. Oliver is holding onto his green octopus plushie, in a deep slumber, so he kisses the boy’s forehead and whispers good night, quickly leaving the room. Aurora has a lighter sleep than her older brother, so Quinn is extra careful in her bedroom. The two-year-old is sleeping peacefully in a little Canucks jersey, holding onto the purple dinosaur plushie, blond locks covering her face. After doing the same little ritual he’d done with Oliver, he walks out of the bedroom as silently as possible. 

When Quinn is finally back in your bedroom, you’re already lying down, waiting for him. As soon as he steps into the room, you urge him to get into bed as soon as possible, which he does without a second thought. You both cuddle close, your head in his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Quinn finally felt happy and at peace. He felt at home. And there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons part 4!

satan and diavolo ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part two (asmodeus, levi and barbatos)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor and solomon)

small note: last part is here wooh! i apologize i wasn't able to add the others. i just didn't know what to put for theirs bc im big idiot. i might make some of them soon tho! i'll probably make aot headcanons next but there will be delays bc exams are next week 😔 i'll also plan on putting more characters in one post next time so stay tuned!

☆ satan:

- likes friv.com, y8 games and papa games.

- picked up the habit of meowing out of nowhere when he's bored or enters his room. only does it when he's alone ofcourse because no way he'll let others see him like this. (everyone knows he does it they just don't say anything)

- he really liked enola holmes and other movies where it has detectives. it just riles him up more and more and wishes a hard ass case will just appear in the devildom already so he'll be first in the scene.

- don't get me started on how many times this man has tripped on his pile of books. he never really learned his lesson and just kept the books on the floor because he enjoys watching cats step on each one

- watches mat pat theories with you and levi. that's when he genuinely started gaining interest in games and sometimes fear he'll end up like levi one day.

- before he was able to manage his anger, he used to pull on his hair really hard. he'd have bald spots for years. thankfully he takes care of it now and it's perfectly luscious and soft.

- gets pissed when he sees people leaving pens uncapped like this is a waste of ink

- also gets pissed when his brothers leave the bathroom door open. he'll use his sleeve to cover his hand and close the door like a clean freak (i do the same thing)

- snores really loud when he sleeps on the couch. yes, the couch not his own bed. the couch.

☆ diavolo:

- he finds pleasure in buying a lot of unnecessary stuff. never learns from his lesson and just kept buying little trinkets and giving silly excuses for it.

- "but barbatos! doesn't this pig just look so cute on my office table? look! i even bought 300 packs of those tea leaves you ordered last time! isn't that great :D?"

- "my lord those tea leaves cost 100k grimm each-"

- he loves to spoil people so much it's so insane. you mentioned you like tanghulus? he ordered barbatos to make 20 of them. oh you really liked that furry coat made by a famous designer? he just bought you 5 pairs of it in different colors. your welcome.

- he likes onesies

- takes really long showers as well. he recently caught up to this thing called an "everything shower" and got invested. now he can't go on with his day without using body washes, oils and cleansers. a demon prince always has to be fresh and well maintained.

- he's always very excited to see you so when he rushes for a hug it's required to pick you up. who cares if he gets scolded by barbatos or receives a glare from belphie? you enjoy it and so does he!

- beautiful thick thighs and ass cheeks it makes me go what the fuck papi chulo

- enjoys the idea of cosplaying. doesn't care what he wears as long as gets to go out and dress up as a character. a dinosaur? sure! princess diavolo?! say less!

another note: we just reached 30 fucking followers hello??1!1(1?@? thank you so much !!! (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

[stuckysbaby1938]

Thunderstorms

Summary: thunderstorms in the middle of the night are scary.

Warnings: fluff, reader cries, very very brief mention of punishment, reader being scared, bucky being the most comforting daddy ever

Word count: 1232

Notes: Bucky=daddy Steve=dada

written on my phone

********************

"Why can't I sleep with you and daddy?" You stare up at Steve as he tucks you in. "Because daddy and I don't want to wake you up early when we get up." Steve kissed your forehead. "Do you want a story?" You nodded. "Wan daddy to read." You point to where Steve isn't sitting. "I'll go get him then." Steve chucked before getting up to go find Bucky. Bucky had just gotten out of the shower when she found him. "The princess wants you to read her a story before she goes to bed." Bucky smiled as he grabs his boxers. "Tell her I'll be there in a minute." Steve nodded and went back to you.

When he got to your room, you weren't in bed. Steve sighed and went to your usual hiding spot in your closet to find it empty. "Sweetheart, it's bedtime. Not play time." Steve heard a rustle from your play tent and smirked. "I guess my baby left and now I have no one to cuddle." You instantly got out and ran to Steve. "No! No! I right here!" You didn't want your dada cuddling anybody else but you or daddy. Steve picked you up and took you back to your bed. "Dada?" You spoke quietly. "Yes, angel?" Steve looked down at you. "Will you lay with me." Steve smiled and laid beside you, pulling you close. "Cuddling without me?" Bucky came in with a bottle and sat beside you on the bed.

You quickly curled into his arms so he could feed you the bottle. "There ya go, sweet girl. Just needed daddy." You look up into his eyes to find him staring down at you. "You still want that story, pretty baby?" You nodded as best as you could with the bottle in your mouth. "Alright, what are we doing tonight?" He sat the empty bottle on your nightstand. "Wuv you to moon n back!" Bucky chuckled and grabbed the book while Steve snuggled into your other side.

He sat your between the two of them with your stuffed dinosaur, Franklin, as Bucky started to read. "I love our time together as we start each happy day. I love our bath time silliness, the way we splash and play," You felt your eyes grow heavy as you cuddle into Bucky's side. Steve noticed you started to suck the tip of your thumb so he reached over and grabbed your paci, slipping it between your lips. "We'll climb the highest mountaintops, hold tight and you won't fall." You didn't hear much after that.

"I love you to the moon and stars, my precious little one." Bucky smiled down at you. He gently pulled the duvet over you before kissing your forehead. "Good night, doll. I love you." Bucky stepped back so Steve could say good night as well. "Good night, babygirl. I love you. Sleep tight." Steve kissed your cheek. They turned on your nightlight and gently closed your door. They stayed up for a little while, mostly cleaning up before they went to bed themselves. "Night, punk." "Night, jerk." They shared a small kiss before falling asleep.

********************

You jolted awake after hearing a loud bang come from outside. You ran over to your window to see what it was. You couldn't see much from how hard it was raining but you did see a bright flash before hearing another bang.

You yelp and run back to your bed and hide under the covers. You have always hated thunderstorms. They are too loud. You peek out to look at the clock.

2:56 AM in big red letters

The red means you can't leave your room because it's to early. You clutch Franklin to your chest and try to calm down. You glance at the clock again, still seeing the red numbers. Should you risk punishment to go get your daddies? A loud clap of thunder made you sum up your decision. You got out of bed, grabbed Franklin and your paci, and carefully opened your door. The hallway was dark, which only scared you more. You hurry to your daddies bedroom, quietly twisting the door knob. You saw them both fast asleep. You tiptoe to the edge of their bed, only to be stopped by Bucky's voice. "What are you doing up, princess?"

"Got scared daddy." You walk around to his side of the bed. "C'mon, back to bed." He picks you up and starts walking you back to your room. He lays you down in your bed and kissed your forehead. "Get some sleep, sweets." He whispers. "But daddy I-" He shushes you. "Go back to sleep, honey. It's to early." He tucks you in and leaves. You close your eyes and try to sleep but the thunder just gets louder. You start to cry. You get up again and go to get Bucky. "Honey, I told you to go back to bed."

"But daddy-" he cuts you off again. "No, baby, it's to early. Go back to bed, now." You were about to argue more when the thunder started again, making you cry more. Bucky stood up and walked over to you. He gently picked you up and walked out of his room. "Shhh, it's okay. It's just thunder, princess. It's okay." He started walk you around the hall, trying to let Steve sleep. "How about a bottle?" You nodded.

He walked downstairs and started to fix your bottle. The thunder sounded closer this time, making you start to shake. "You're okay, honey. Daddy's right here." Bucky started to rock you while your milk was heating up. "'S scary, daddy." You whimper. "I know it is, doll, but its just thunder. It can't hurt you." Bucky placed the lid on your bottle and went to sit on the couch. "Like Thor?" Bucky nodded. "Exactly like Thor. He's just making sure you know he's watch over you from Asgard." You gasped.

You had never thought of that before. Thor was one of your favorite of your daddies' friends. He was the most fun. One time he took you to the water park and you got to skip all the lines!

"'S just Thor?" Bucky nodded while slipping the tip of the bottle between your lips. "It's just Thor. There's nothing to be scared of." Your eyes started to feel heavy again. The sounds of thunder now somewhat comforting. The rain against the roof singing a pleasant lullaby, lulling you into a peaceful sleep. Bucky took the bottle away and replaced it with a paci that they kept on the side table, just in case. He stood up and carried you upstairs. He was going to put you in your bed, but you looked so comfortable against his chest that he just took you back to his room. He laid you in the center of the bed and got in beside you.

He got settle by your side and reached over to hold onto Steve's hand. "Everything okay?" Steve whispered. Bucky looked at the two of you with a bright smile. "Everything is perfect." Steve nodded and went back to sleep.

"Perfect."

[theflowerrooms]

dad spencer headcannons PLEASE

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVED DOING THIS SO MUCH

Lowkey wanna write more dad!spencer

Spencer was always loving and caring, always doting on you. But since you’d gotten pregnant, he’s done nothing but take excellent care of you, doing everything in his power to make sure you’re not overexerting yourself, and making sure you’re comfortable and healthy.

Spencer started off having pre-parental panic for the first three months of your pregnancy. He read countless amounts of books on parenting and pregnancy, he knew everything from what you should eat to what what you should watch on tv in order to have the happiest, healthiest pregnancy.

Picking the name was a hassle, you would constantly blank, not thinking of a single name you liked, and Spencer would suggest names like Mildred, Earl, or something from a different language that, while it would have a beautiful meaning, you struggled to pronounce.

When you found out you were having a boy, you both eventually decided to name the baby after people you cared about, and when he was born, he was given the name Jason David Reid. It was beyond important to Spencer that you’d named him after Gideon.

Your birth wasn’t nearly as hard as your pregnancy, and all of it was worth it when your baby was cleaned up and in your arms.

It felt even more worth it when they placed him in Spencer’s, seeing a father hold his son for the first time. You’d seen Spencer cry, a few times. But you’d never seen him cry like this, tears of love and enchantment, tears for you, tears for your baby, and tears for your family.

Spencer was the only one in the room during your birth, at your request. It wasn’t until afterward that they let people in, and of course, the team who’d been waiting at the hospital for six hours crowded into the room, washing their hands at Spencer’s request.

You both cried again, watching your baby be passed around between these people that you loved like family. Penelope had been crying since a nurse informed her that your baby boy had been born healthy and happy. Jj cried the first time she saw him, Emily cried the second he was in her arms. Rossi sobbed when he heard his name for the first time.

Your first night home from the hospital was hard. The baby slept so good, he hardly cried, he was such a happy baby. But you and Spencer were so nervous. He’d read every book and website he could get his hands on, spoken to so many seasoned parents and paediatricians. But still you both were nervous.

That quickly faded, and you got used to having a new baby. You’d gotten used to waking up to change or feed him, gotten used to the weight of a baby in your arms.

He wasn’t a big baby, still very healthy and happy, just a little guy. And he already looked like Spencer, button nose and a full head of hair, just a shade darker than his father’s.

The baby went through a series of nicknames. Because Jason’s a lovely name, just not a baby name, and David felt worse. You went from calling him Jay, to JJ, which was confusing, to JD, which is what stuck. Baby JD, JD Reid.

JD was happy and content almost all the time, but what calmed him down fastest was the sound of Spencer’s voice. So Spencer would spend hours talking to JD, explaining the history of Hallows Eve, or telling him about different types of plants.

When JD was around 10 months, he said his first word which was bird. He loved birds, his mobile had handmade birds sewn by Penelope, his wallpaper had little blue birds just below the trim, He saw them a lot outside in the yard. Spencer cried the first time he said it, from how cute it was, from the fact that Gideon loved birds before he passed.

As JD grew, he proved himself to be very intelligent, which Spencer took great pride in. He was speaking full sentences before he turned two, he could identify many different types of dinosaurs, which became his new obsession after birds.

Spencer would read to him often, the first book being ‘Goodnight Moon’, the second being ‘The Narrative of John Smith.” JD was able to remember nearly all of the words to the books that Spencer would read to him, but he struggled to read and he was diagnosed with Dyslexia when he was almost 5.

Being a dad and husband is the most important thing to Spencer. He happily spends less time working and more time with JD and you.

Neither you nor Spencer had cried so much until you became parents, he’d cry over how cute you looked holding JD in your arms as he slept, he’d cry over how sweet JD’s voice was as he told him he loved him, He’d cry watching JD and Hank play pirates together. And he broke down in tears of love when JD ran to hug him when he got home, wearing a shirt that read “big brother”

[ashwhowrites]

From the prompt list for fluff can I request 21 and 22?

Did you just call me sweetheart?”

“I can keep you company till you fall asleep”

Of course! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Bedtime Angel

Eddie didn't like to admit to anyone he struggled to sleep after the events he faced in the upside down. His body was covered in scars, along with his brain. He couldn't sleep in the dark, he felt embarrassed when he bought a night light. The cashier eyed him weirdly as she scanned the small dinosaur light.

But that small light brought him so much relief. He had it right next to his bed, the bright white light lit up his room. He removed the doors in his closet, he needed to see exactly what was on the inside. He kept all corners of his room clean, he made sure nothing was able to hide in his room.

Wayne wasn't sure where his nephew disappeared too, but he understood he went through some type of trauma. Wayne supplied more night lights throughout their new trailer. He kept the bathroom light on always, he didn't care how expensive the electricity bill was. He'd do anything to make Eddie feel safe again.

After the events, Eddie found himself needing one person only. Y/N, someone he had no idea existed until the gang brought her as a backup in the upside down. She was gorgeous and fearless. She was supposed to bike with Dustin back to the trailer for safety, but once Eddie went down she froze. She screamed at Dustin to get the group while she raced back to Eddie.

Eddie was prepared to die, and he accepted that. He didn't have anything to live for. And dying a hero sounded comforting enough to let go. As he bled out, and scrunched his eyes shut he felt hands on his body. Someone cradled his head as a piece of fabric was pushed against his cuts. The bats left, it was just him and her.

"Go." He mumbled, his eyes peered up. Her worried eyes were focused on keeping him alive.

"Shh, it's okay. Dustin is getting help. I'm not leaving you. I'm Y/N." She said she wanted to get his mind off the pain, she knew introducing herself sounded dumb but she didn't want to be a stranger to him. She wasn't sure if he'd survive and she wanted him to die with a friend.

Eddie remembered her voice trialing in and out as he tried to stay awake. She talked about herself, her likes and dislikes. In a way, it was comforting for Eddie. He felt like he was meeting someone and getting to know them. He didn't feel like he was lying on the ground, seconds away from death. In a way, he felt alive.

"It was nice to meet you Y/N." He said, her smile faded as the blackness took over his vision.

~~~

Ever since then, he called her all the time. She was his angel. He truly felt like she saved him that night. Even though the events happened two months ago, she answered every time. She came over and talked to him throughout the day. They gained a friendship, and along the way, he felt a crush forming on her.

She always left at bedtime, believing all this time Eddie was getting the rest he needed. No idea he tossed and turned, his eyes afraid to close.

But too many restless nights showed. His face was pale, and his eyes were sunken in. Big purple bags underneath his red eyes.

"Eddie, have you been sleeping?" She asked, dropping her coat on the floor as she walked back over to him. She was prepared to leave, at the same time as always. But she couldn't help but feel like Eddie needed her.

"No." He said honestly, too exhausted to lie.

"Are you scared?" She asked. She wasn't teasing or mocking him. Her voice was soft and worried. She generally was asking and Eddie felt like a little kid with their mom. What a way to impress a girl he liked.

She could sense Eddie didn't want to answer. His embarrassed face and eyes faced down to his bed.

"Oh, sweetheart!" She cooed, she crawled into the bed, sitting up against his headboard. She patted her lap, and he silently followed her direction. He moved his body to rest against her, his head on her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I can keep you company till you fall asleep," she said, Eddie was too tired to answer. He allowed his body to melt into his bed. His brain shut off as her hands rubbed his head. Her nails scratched through his curls in the most calming way he'd ever felt.

"Did you just call me sweetheart?” he mumbled, a tired yawn leaving his lips.

"Yes." She said, and she had no shame about it.

His stomach fluttered and a tiny smile stretched across his lips.

For once, he wasn't afraid to go to sleep.

The bright dinosaur nightlight shined throughout his room. He was surrounded by light and his angel.

Tags!

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[pastel-peach-writes]

Caitvi x reader who's basically a dumb blonde (and very clumsy) at points but is smart in a few specific things you wouldn't expect (you choose what they are^^) they're kinda like Elle woods from legally blonde if yknow what I mean,! Thanks for doing caitvi requests they hardly exist!^^

Hi! This request is no problem and of course! I started making these caitvi posts because they barely exist and i was DYING for content. love to hear that you're enjoying them!

"How Do You Know That?" | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of Caitlyn and Vi with a clumsy, ditzy, yet smart in unique ways partner <3

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Cursing, Clumsy Ass Reader, A Lot Of F-Bombs(Vi), Cute Ass Reader, Sleepy Vi, Hard-Worker Caitlyn, Not Proofread, No Y/N

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

– okay, caitvi would never call you dumb. never.

– they like to think of you as, maybe a bit ditzy and a klutz. most definitely a klutz.

– you can't even make a pot of coffee without spilling the coffee ground everywhere.

– and don't get them started on how many times they found a sticky counter and had to clean it after you poured juice into a cup.

– they didn't mind your clumsiness though.

– it was cute and endearing and you were their klutz. (and the audience awhs.)

– anyways

– the only time they may get upset at your clumsiness is when you three are on stealth missions.

– for vi, it was like working with powder again.

– she had to make sure you were okay and preferred to walk behind you. however, she hated when you walked too far.

– "hey, be careful. you never know who or what's out there." "I'll literally be fine. you worry too much--" and there you go almost falling into a manhole.

– thank god for vi's fast ass reflexes.

– while it reminds vi of simpler times, (working with you on stealth missions), it reminds caitlyn of the painful days when she had to train trainees.

– most were incompetent, clumsy, and downright scaredy cats.

– no judgment to you if you're any of those things.

– it was different with you of course. but the slip-ups often reminded her of a trainee who made the same slip-up you did and suddenly she turned away trying to maintain her composure.

– anyways, your ditziness

– i personally believe everyone has their dumb blonde moments. some just have more than others.

– you have yours over the most basic things

– like almost taking a hot pan out of the oven or letting a plastic utensil sit dangerously close to an open flame.

– if caitlyn wasn't in the kitchen working, she was sure you'd burn the house down.

– another ditzy moment would be drinking a water bottle upside down, going to eat a random piece of pie because a man gave it to you, and running headfirst into a room full of mirrors.

– yeah. that shit hurt.

– adding onto your clumsiness, you'd trip and fall on your own two feet

– though your ditziness often shows in your actions and not your words, caitlyn and vi found themselves shocked on a random tuesday night at three am when you're asking them questions only a 7-year-old would think of.

-

"do you think dinosaurs poop? what color would it be?" you asked. you were in the middle of the bed with vi on your right and caitlyn on your left.

vi was resting on her side, seemingly knocked out cold. caitlyn was reading a book with her personal book lamp on. she made sure it was on dim so she wouldn't disrupt your sleep. you can imagine her startle when you spoke out of the blue.

"wh-what?" caitlyn stammered. she glanced over to you. maybe you were sleep-talking. sure, that's a weird ass phrase to say while asleep, but every sleep talker says dumb shit sometimes.

you glanced back at her, eyes wide open and dazzling with curiosity. "i mean, each dino species had a different diet and habitat. do you think based off their diets and habitats, their poop would smell different and have different colors?"

caitlyn couldn't even fathom an answer. her mind literally went blank. luckily for her, vi chipped in on the opposite side of the bed. her voice raspy and low. she was obviously asleep, but the quiet chatter woke her up. "babe, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"dinos!" you exclaimed. vi shushed you as she turned over to face you.

"why the fuck are we talking about dinos?" she squinted in your direction. even though caitlyn's light wasn't bright in the slightest, it was like the fucking sun compared to the darkness that was previously behind vi's eyes.

"and why do you know so much about their habitats and diets?" caitlyn chimed. she closed her book, but kept a hold of her light. she loved seeing how your eyes sparkled with wonder and how the corner of your lips upturned as you spoke about your random dinosaur inquiry.

"um, because it's common knowledge."

"no, the fuck it's not." "who said that?"

you blinked. all your life you knew just about everything about dinosaurs. you knew their DNA buildup, and bone structure, which dinos had more genetic tissue than the other. you were asking them a simple question and they didn't know?

sat up, your eyes shift between them. Vi is on the urge of falling back asleep and caitlyn is patiently waiting on the answer to her question. with a giggle, you shook your head. "you guys are so funny. anyways, i think the herbivores' poop is more green than the others because of their plant-based diet-"

"ugh, just go to sleep!" vi wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled down. with your back now on the mattress and giggles escaping from you once again, violet puts her head on your chest. "you talk too much. it's sleepy time and caitlyn, turn off that light for the love of god."

not phased by her sleepy crankiness because she's in love with her, caitlyn turned off the light with a slight chuckle. she's finally snuggled under the covers and joined the cuddle pile.

-

– since then, caitlyn and vi discovered you know a lot about some random shit

– (and that your interesting factoids were attractive as hell)

– the random shit includes space (most specifically black holes and speed of light), color theory, engineering but with the most unethical supplies, and murder mysteries (real and fake).

– you always surprise them with your random thoughts.

– sometimes you're trying to share knowledge and other times you're asking questions to see if they have the answer.

– no matter the question, no matter the topic, they're amazed you know all of this crap.

– this person who falls up the stairs, chokes on mouthwash, and literally wore their pants backward for a full day is asking their partners if they know about the space-time continuum.

– in vi's words, "um, what the fuck?"

– that being said, they love that big clumsy, ditzy brain of yours with random facts.

– vi call your their "fun fact calendar" because every day, you have a new fact about your selected topics.

– i've said this before and i'll say it again, they absolutely adore you and your wackiness

– it even helps when finding jinx.

– "yeah, it was easy because she used these colors, and while this means one thing in color theory, in color psychology it actually means--"

– "-- wait, wait. when did you pick up color psychology?"

– "last week! :D"

– both, in perfect unison: "you never fail to amaze me."

WC: 1,126