#pluto writes

[plutofilms]

headcannons on how the dead poets comfort you

pairing: dps boys x gn!reader

genre: comfort, pure fluff tho, could be read as romantic or platonic

word count: 1.2k

content warnings: none, only its lowercase intended and the reader is kind of at welton 25/8 so you could imagine that welton is a co-ed school (depending on your gender) or that you’re just a student at welton.

authors note: this is self indulgent and very fluffy… laptop is still broken so i’m writing this on my cellular device (¬_¬) this may be ooc again yikes, not proofread and contain some tense problems… reblogs are appreciated 💌

neil perry: this boy can practically sense when you’re in need of comfort. he picks up on the smallest of changes from the way you smile, the way you stand or walk, to the tone of your voice. he won’t push you to talk to him about it, as he wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but when you end up going to him with that look on your face, he pulls you to a secluded area, maybe somewhere outside on the field. neil lets you pour your heart out to him, and not once will he look away from you; even if your eyes are looking anywhere but him. his eyes are full with pure love and understanding, but if you’re rambling like crazy, neil will say your name and gently place his hand on your cheek, making you meet his gaze. he offers up his words of inspiration, wanting to uplift you in any way shape of form, and would also go out of his to make sure you know how amazing you are. he may also pull you into a hug if he feels you need it.

todd anderson: todd’s a very shy person, and i think that can sometimes show when he’s comforting you. i know he has a lot of character development and comes out of his shell, but i still feel like his way of comforting you is spending quality time with you. if he can tell you need some kind of comfort (he can sense it like neil) he’s walking you to a quiet area- whether that’s his shared dorm or some spot on a hill under a tree)- sitting himself down and pulling you down next to him. he lets you talk when you want to, so if you want to talk, he’ll listen intently, occasionally asking questions and making comments. if you’d rather not speak, it’s a comfortable silence; i can see todd being someone very big on physical touch (because he’s quite shy), so he probably pulls you close or lets you lay your head on his lap/shoulder while he writes a poem about you in his notebook.

steven meeks: it takes one look from steven for you to break down in front of him. whether you’re just crying waterfalls or just word vomiting your worries to him, he keeps his calm, letting you do what you need to do; steven knows that keeping stuff bottled up is not healthy, and he also knows that not crying when you’re upset just makes things worse. he grabs your shoulders and pulls you close, asking how long you’ve been keeping it in, if you need some water, etc.. i think he’d take your hand, tells you he has and idea, and takes you on a walk, making occasional conversation about your feelings. he’d make a quick stop to his dorm room before walking you to the rooftop. steven would then proceed to pull out his and pitts radio, fiddling with it before placing the headphones on your head. music drowns out your sadness (he knows that music therapy helps with comforting), and it doesn’t take long before steven starts doing a silly little dance, holding your hand and encouraging you to cut loose (footloose reference).

gerard pitts: oh my pittsie, he’s the absolute sweetest. he’s probably with steven when you approach him, and gerard would (lovingly) ditch him in 0.01 seconds to be by your side. he can be a teensy bit awkward at times, but that doesn’t stop him from absolutely pampering you. i think he would give you his sweater to wear or drapes his blazer over your shoulders while you pour your heart out to him, and would 100% bring you some kind of snack that he knows you like. i actually think gerard is good at comforting, and would tell you it’s valid to feel the way you feel, that it’s okay to be upset; but he will never let you talk badly about yourself, shutting you up in an instance the moment you try to say something bad about yourself. i can see you two lying on his bed or sitting on the floor of his dorm while he informs you of the silly boy shenanigans him and meeks have been up to in order to cheer you up.

charlie dalton: it’s 11:14pm, and there’s a knock at charlie’s dorm door. when he opens it in his half- asleep state to find you standing there, visibly upset, he doesn’t have time to ask anything as you immediately step into the dorm and throw yourself onto him. he’d carefully grab the sides of your face, eyes scanning your face to make sure you’re not harmed in any way. “woah—hey hey hey, what’s wrong?”, “it’s okay, you’re okay.” at that point, charlie’s concern is on you and does not care if he wakes up his roommate. i like to think that he knows how to deal with situations like this, so he might take you outside for some fresh cool air (not without giving you his jumper first to make sure you stay warm). even though charlie definitely cracks a couple of jokes and uses his humour to cheer you up, i think he is very insightful with his words and is probably very good at comforting people in general. from that point on, for the next week or so, he is practically glued to you, making sure you’re feeling okay and doing absolutely anything for you.

richard cameron: the moment you approach cameron to find a sense of comfort, he would usher you into his dorm room and immediately start to ask what or who is making you upset, how it is impacting you, how long you’ve felt like that, etc etc… he becomes a mini therapist and practically takes mental notes on everything. he can’t hide his concern for you and might be a teensy bit pushy (lovingly) if you’re struggling to get your words out. even though cameron might not be the best with words, i feel like he would comfort you by taking some of the stress off of your shoulders; basically acts of service, like for instance if you were worried about something like grades, he would want to help you with that: he may do your homework or give you notes. if he found out some of the students at welton were picking on you and giving you trouble, he might give them a piece of his mind or dob them in to mr nolan.

knox overstreet: when knox finds out you’re upset, his first instinct is to pull you into his embrace. if you can’t get any words out, he immediately wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you into him and letting you sob into him. if you two are sitting together and you’re venting about all your personal worries and stresses, knox either (if you’re sitting across from him) holds your hands and rubs his thumbs across them while he listens, or if you’re sitting next to him, gently pushes you to his side so you can lean on him while you ramble. his love language is most definitely physical touch, so expect lots of hugs, playing with your hair, shoulder rubs, and just general touchiness. i can also see him affirming how much he loves/cares for you and how proud he is of you, while also making lighthearted jokes just to see a small smile form on your face. knox seems like the type to cuddle you in his bed until you fall asleep in his arms.

[constantnbpreg]

imagine a pregnant transmasc is at the grocery store. hes obviously close to popping, his belly is so so round on his frame and hes just so gravid. the weight of his belly so clearly burdening him as he sloooowly waddles through the aisles

he runs into an old classmate from school who is SHOCKED to see just how pregnant their former classmate is and they make small talk as he pants through the catch up talk because the baby stuffed in his womb is pushing on his lungs. they make their separate ways

less than a year later, old classmate runs into the guy again but he looks nearly the same, if not even MORE pregnant than the last time they saw him. they thought that they had the baby?? but the transmasc awkwardly laugh and rub their huge belly and explain that no they did have the baby. he’s just pregnant with twins this time and the classmate is amazed that they had two pregnancies nearly back to back

fast forward another year, same classmate again runs into the transmasc. this time he’s got a toddler propped up on his wide fertile hips and two babies in the cart and would you look at that, ANOTHER big heavy pregnant belly. the classmate can’t believe it. how is he pregnant AGAIN? this time, the pregnant guy looks almost flustered when he explains he’s having another set of twins. there should be some shame for the fact he can’t seem to keep his legs closed but it’s not his fault he’s so damn fertile!

[ssspace-cadet]

guys i watched the superman movie and no one can convince me that clark isn’t the sweetest most gentle cg ever. he’s mastered the perfect way to hold you just right so you fall asleep in his arms. he makes sure to talk really soft and gentle, always calling you “bubs” and “bug”. on nights you can’t sleep he’ll fly up above the city while holding you, letting you watch the gleaming lights and the stars. also, for some reason i just know he makes a great mug of hot chocolate.

i can see him as a flip too!! i feel like he would be super clingy, always wanting to be near you and if possible holding your hand or your sleeve. his favorite thing is hugging you and being the big spoon so he knows you’re there with him and he’s not alone. he loves walking with you, saying hi to the dogs at the park, the birds in the sky, and the squirrels in trees.

[the-tomcat-disposable]

In every life, through every door

If you saw this on the discord hi hello. I'm chrisdrew doomed yaoi 3. I'm so Normal and Chris is NOT dead. Also the title is a lyric from At The Beach, In Every Life by Gigi Perez

And yes I listened to malevolent

Summary: body sharing chrisdrew fic where they find out how to interrupt the metempsychosis protocol accidentally by sheer dumb luck.

I forgot to write this on my art blog… whatever. No beta read we die like Chris.

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

Hand in dark, wet hand, they walked up to the glitched door together. They agreed on two things currently; the first being that they had to stop Smile from winning, even if they had absolutely no clue if this would even work. The second being that they both, despite their recent arguments, needed to stay together.

Chris allowed Andrew to take the first step towards the blinding light behind the door, following quickly to keep pace with his friend while he squeezed said boy's hand. The poor guy was trembling… Chris should’ve tried harder to be there for him sooner. It’s his fault, all of this. He should’ve—

“Chris,” Andrew spoke in an uncharacteristically stern tone that snapped the damp creature back to reality, “we need to do this now. I feel my… connection to myself getting narrower every second. Count to three?”

Chris nodded. He truly admired Andrew. If he had Andrew’s determination to continue despite everything… would any of this had happened? He wasn’t sure.

Andrew nodded in return, voice breaking as he spoke, “okay, we go at the same time then, alright? I’m- I’m not losing you again if this ends up being a stupid decision.”

Chris's heart (or lack thereof) churned with regret at the sadness in his voice. “Andrew…”

“One,” said man spoke over him with an unmistakable tone of urgency as they stepped closer to the light. It chilled Chris, the reality of this situation, and he spoke along with him.

“Two,” another step.

“Three,” they practically shouted at the same time as they squeezed through the one-block wide door frame. The proximity was… nice. More than nice, it was euphoric to be this close to Andrew. Well… for Chris it was, at least. The other scrunched up his nose in disgust. Ah… must be the unmistakable wet and earthy odor.

“Damn. You smell like shit.”

“Well, you’re not much be-”

The blind light had burned them bright enough to cut them off from their conversation and Andrew woke in his own with a gasp. God, he felt disgusting… but overjoyed! They won! They- wait…

“Chris?!” Andrew shouted as the fear that Chris didn’t make it out with him had settled in his chest. His… chest. Right, it had been a while since he tried to breathe regularly. He should try that again, maybe I’ll slow his heart rate down.

As he attempted to exhale, his right lung felt… numb? That was the best way he could explain it. It felt like it wasn’t there anymore, which couldn’t possibly be true.

“A-Andrew?!” Chris wheezed out, as though just learning how to breathe again. I was followed immediately afterwards by relentless coughing, to which Andrew himself began coughing and… ground water managed to escape him. How?! He hadn’t been in any in real life.

“Chris?! Wh-where are you, buddy?!” Andrew’s tone lightened tenfold as he unconsciously wiped up the water with some of the unused napkins from last night’s dinner on his desk. Wait… no, he didn’t do that… did he? Andrew usually just soaked up spilled liquid with a hoodie sleeve or something of the sort. Oh well, maybe he did do it. Best not to worry about that for now.

“Sorry for the m- wait… huh?!” Chris apologized.

“What?”

“Th-this… this desk, this room, this setup, everything…”

“Get to the point?”

“Andrew, I… think there might have been an error,” Chris spoke wearily, “and I do not know how to say this without it sounding really weird, but… I might be inside you.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two.

“A-as a passenger! Not… you know-” Chris stammered to elaborate on his statement, Andrew’s face turning red and hot due to Chris’s apparent partial control of his body as Andrew chuckled. ‘He's cute when he stutters.’

“Yeah yeah, I know… well, it’s nice to finally be face to face, technically.”

“You’re… okay with it?” Chris asked, tone soft and encompassing, like a warm blanket during winter. Soft, just like his tone years ago when he’d comforted Andrew over the phone. Soft like velvet, almost. God, he missed that sweet, raspy voice. Would it be selfish to admit that he dreamed of a day like this for years, where he could hear it in real life and keep him to himself?

“I can find a solution to-”

“No, don’t,” Andrew muttered.

“Hm?”

Fuck. Okay, how was he going to tell Chris that this was an even better option than meeting in person? That sounds… well, it’d be best to call it what it is, right? “Chris, I- uh- okay, this’ll sound gay but maybe I am gay, so… worth a shot.”

“Cool! Cool! Yeah that’s- that’s great, man!” Chris responded with what Andrew could only imagine was barely concealed glee. Okay, good, they’re in the same boat! Thank god. “That’s- that’s alright by me. Go on, then?”

Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but no sound left him. Pathetic. He groaned and grabbed at his hair with his hand, his left foot tapping against the carpeted floor of his room as if that would quell his increasing heartbeat or the butterflies that threatened to suffocate him from the inside out. “Chris, I- fuck. Goddamnit. Ugh... I'm- I'm sorry.”

“Hey,” Chris whispered shakily as he (or was it Andrew?) exhaled sharply.

Andrew had noticed something new about his friend’s (though the term didn’t seem fitting enough to describe how he felt about Chris anymore) voice, now that it had caught his attention; it sounded just slightly as if the sound of it were traveling through water. It reminded him of summer trips with his family long before he’d met Chris. It was nice to have a memory of water that wasn’t infested with fear of drowning. Or maybe he had always been afraid of it, and nostalgia had just saturated those memories again.

Or maybe—just maybe—his feelings for Chris overrode the fear response in the limbic system of his brain. Maybe he wasn't scared because it was Chris. That would make better sense, considering how said boy acted seconds after the unconscious thought had formed.

Chris raised a hand slowly and purposefully to caress Andrew’s face with their (assumed) shared arm, as if testing for his reaction. Chris would’ve then followed up that action by cradling the man’s face and telling him he’s okay now, just like he wished he could years before everything with the wells began, and even during the time in between then and now.

The computer screen had interrupted both of their thoughts. Minecraft had apparently crashed, and now someone had been throwing a tantrum. Files began opening, error sounds played at maximum volume, and text files containing highly personal information opened and closed.

“What the fuck?!” Andrew shouted. Chris panicked, and, for no apparent reason other than pure primal instinct to protect, yanked his hand away from Andrew’s face and punched a dent into the screen deep enough to break the computer internally.

“Fuck! Andrew, shit… Andrew I’m so sorry, I do not know why I-” Andrew felt his heartbeat racing once more, though he didn’t exactly feel scared. He was more relieved, if anything. ‘Must be Chris feeling it then, I’m guessing? If… that’s how this works.’

Andrew winced at the pain of the impact in their arm and held their hand carefully. “Y’know, not the smartest decision you’ve made,” Andrew began, his heart dropping and throat drying up on Chris’s behalf, “but good reaction speed. Is he dead? For good? And I’ll get a new computer. No worries, okay?”

Chris had gone silent for what felt like forever, the only evidence of him still living somewhere within Andrew’s mind being the trembling hand and whimpering. “Chris, bud? You alright?” Andrew asked as he flexed the knuckles on their shaking hand. He heard (and felt) Chris swallow back his nerves before speaking again.

“You- y-you’re- you’re not mad? I broke your computer, though-”

“And you saved me from being possessed by some angry ghost. Plus, I have you back, better than before- better than ever!”

Andrew forced himself to breathe, to remind Chris to calm down just how Chris would do for him in the past. Chris chuckled nervously, “good-that’s good- thank you for forgiving me, Andrew.”

Chris cleared his throat, “first of all, yes. Yes, I think he is gone for good. Hopefully he is at peace now... secondly, ‘better than ever’? Care to elaborate?”

Oh. The same frog that got stuck in his throat earlier had returned, as he stammered and tripped over his own words again. “You do not have to if you don’t want to-”

“No, just… give me a sec, okay?”

“Alright, take your time, I have nowhere else to be,” Chris hummed. It was that sort of hum that Andrew had known him to use when he realized something during a call. Maybe it was the fact that Chris already apparently knew his answer which quieted his racing thoughts enough for him to speak coherently, or maybe it was courage.

“I’ve- I’ve wanted you to be with me again for so long,” Andrew began, “this- this whole time, I wanted you back, just like old times. I sort of… only recently figured out that I- that I wanted you only recently. I- Chris, you’re everything I wish I was but couldn’t be. You’re a saint, and I’ve wanted to treat you like one. It’s what you deserve, for always being there for me when I needed it most, and…”

Chris inhaled sharply, as though bracing for impact. He and Andrew had both unconsciously intertwined their hands together, though neither seemed to notice it yet.

“Fuck it, you’ve just gotta rip the bandaid off sometimes,” Andrew muttered to no one, “I’m trying to say that I love you. I have since some time after we began playing Minecraft together, I think.”

Chris audibly gasped from within Andrew’s mind, as though nobody had ever spoken such utterly divine, warm words to him in his life. Something about the thought of Chris having never been told this truth tugged at Andrew’s heartstrings, threatening to snap them.

“I-I love you, too. More than you could possibly know,” Chris sighed warmly, voice dripping with such sincerity that Andrew had whined as Chris let go of his hand to move their shared one towards his face. Chris had felt his unkempt stubble on his chin, to which Andrew leaned into the touch like he had been starved of this—like he needed this much more than he wanted it.

Chris’s steady and focused breath was followed by his fingers tracing over corners of the other’s lips, but pulled were away hesitantly.

“Aw, come on!”

“Sorry, I- I wasn’t sure if… or how to- you know…- never mind. I-it is probably too soon to… um-”

Sometimes, Andrew surprised himself. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been so exhausted that he wasn’t quite thinking logically or coherently, but he found himself pulling their right hand back up to where it had been. The surprised ‘eep’ Chris made at the sudden action caused Andrew to smirk and breathe out a silent laugh.

“Like hell it’s ’too soon’, I’ve just been too big of a coward the whole time.”

“If anything, you’ve been far from a coward,” Chris uttered, as though simply stating fact, “I’ve watched you fight for your life, for our lives. Even though I’ve been dead months before you started recording your adventures, you still kept trying to find your way to me since you…”

Chris’s actions stopped dead in their tracks, and Andrew felt his right hand (which had been held against his lips) go ghostly cold, along with most of his body. “Let’s just… not talk about it, okay? I’d like to keep you here with me.”

“Right- yeah,” Chris halfheartedly chuckled, “you are right. I do mean what I said, Andrew.”

Andrew hummed, heart fluttering at each comment. God damnit, did the boy know the right words to say in any situation to make him feel loved. He allowed his hand to release the wrist of his right arm, and Chris’s next object of curiosity happened to be Andrew’s hair. Oh no.

“Ew…” Chris yanked his hand away, wiping it excessively on the boy’s pants, “your hair is disgusting.”

“Wow, what a way to kill the mood,” Andrew scoffed, though he knew Chris was right.

“You need a shower, or to at least wash your hair, if nothing else.”

“I- wait! The water-”

“Will not harm us anymore,” Chris interrupted.

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

END

I am not writing more. I'm goin to sleep or mourning Chris. One of those 2

[plutowrites]

Of Magic

note: whew dusted off the ole keyboard for this one. if i'm rusty, you gotta allow it. i love this one sm. because i love nanami kento. that is all.

pairings: dad!nanami x (fem) reader

contains: fluff. nanami being the best duh wbk. modern au.

You hear a faint scraping noise from the kitchen as you quietly enter your home, holding your breath while gently closing the door behind you. It's 9:53 PM, and although wishful thinking has you hoping the girls are fast asleep in their beds, you know they're probably waiting for you to come and kiss them goodnight. In your opinion, Kento outshines you in almost every aspect of parenting, but bedtime belongs to you. He just can't do stories like you can—nothing beats the silly voices you give to each character. Your voice range is impeccable.

However, it is late, and you've had multiple conversations with your children about not waiting up for you tonight; one when they had just woken up, another during breakfast, and the last reminder during the car ride to school before dropping them off. They know very well that you had a company event to attend outside of work hours and wouldn't be home until late at night. But still, a small (horrible) part of you wanted them to still be awake, just to hear their cute giggles and feel their tiny, warm hands wrapped around your neck in a tight hug. 

"How'd it go?" Kento asks, closing the lid over the Tupperware filled with tonight's dinner, which looks (and smells) like beef and broccoli stir-fry. You stand in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face.

Instead of answering his question, you point to the food in his hands. "They ate the broccoli?"

Nanami turns to face you and frowns. "Of course they ate the broccoli."

"What?! They never eat broccoli when I'm around."

"That's only because you don't eat broccoli, honey. You're their hero; they wouldn't even touch chocolate cake if dearest mommy turned up her nose at it."

"Dearest mommy, huh," you repeat after him, a grin slowly spreading across your face. Kento wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily, pulling you into him and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"They should be asleep—"

"Nice."

"But they're probably not," Nanami finishes. You lean your head back to look at him. The beginnings of a smile dance on the corners of his lips.

You fake gasp. "How naughty."

"Soooo naughty."

"I'll go check on them when I go up there to change my clothes." Kento lets go of you and runs a hand through his hair. Noting the exhaustion on his face, you add, "You should rest now that I'm home. I can pack the girls' lunches for tomorrow too."

He shakes his head. "They're already done, but did you know they're really into star shapes now? It was just hearts last week. I can do hearts. I did hearts like a pro, actually."

"Are stars really that hard to do?" You ask, tongue in cheek.

He shoots you a look. In your husband’s defense, he really did cut hearts into foods like a pro. Every single item that went into the girls’ lunch boxes that could be carved into the shape of a heart, was in the shape of a heart. You always watched Kento from the couch in the living room as he meticulously sliced and diced away to make his girls happy.

You pat your hand across one of his cheeks and coo, "You're the best dad ever, literally." You draw out the word literally, eliciting a snort from Nanami.

"I had to ban that word today."

Now it’s your turn to laugh—your oldest daughter learned the word 'literally' in school this week and hasn't stopped using it since. It's sort of hilarious how she sneaks it into every other sentence. You tilt your head to the side and reply in the most serious tone you can muster, "Thank you because it was literally driving me, literally, insane, literally."

A chorus of giggles erupts from the top of the stairs, followed by a thundering rumble of footsteps descending. The moment in the kitchen, interrupted.

Nanami shakes his head gently and sighs, "Hmm, I wonder if they’re awake."

You grab the back of his neck, yank him closer, and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. "My babies are spoiled like little princesses. They need entertainment to go to sleep, and I am their jester. I bid you farewell."

"You’re going to read them a bedtime story?"

"Yes, I am going to read them a bedtime story..."

"Now? At 10:00 PM? And you call me soft..."

“You are, don’t even start.”

After a beat, Kento says softly, “You're so good to them, you know? They’re so lucky to have you.”

Hearing those words from him stops you in your tracks. They wouldn't mean nearly as much coming from anyone else as they do coming from Kento, simply because he is the best father. 

He’s so patient, and kind, and understanding. He lets the girls wear whatever madness they want, and is completely fluent in their ramblings and mumbles— far better than you. He knows exactly how they like their oatmeal, and memorized the milk to cereal ratio they must have in their bowls or else the world stops for them; he knows exactly what to say when they're feeling upset to calm them down.

He learned how to bake white chocolate raspberry muffins because it’s their favourite. He learned how to do funky hairstyles just because a crazy hair day at their school was on the horizon. He even learned how to patch holes in their clothes instead of telling them not to lay and roll around in the wood chips at the park because he couldn't bear to cut into their fun.

If Kento didn’t know how to do something, he learned. He was always trying. 

To you, your husband is a hard-working, dedicated, outrageously beautiful force of a man.

To your children, he’s nothing short of magic.

[youvereachedpluto]

worship / a drabble / diluven

"what do you mean, 'no god,' I'm right here, pray to me, I'll be your salvat—" he breaks off to puke into the nearest trashcan. diluc groans, a headache already forming at the corners of his mind as he turns to grab a rag from behind the counter. he's already filling a glass full of water when venti re-emerges from the trashcan, face paler than before but a certain steadiness in his eyes that diluc never associated with drunken bards. "master diluc, it is quite rude of you to state so boldly, in the presence of one of the oldest archons that you fail to see a need to worship," venti stables himself on the stool. hair unbraided and ribbons of it flowing over his shoulder, under the dim light, they glowed blue and green, highlighting the sharp features of the god that diluc never saw before, features venti did well to hide away in his mortal form. "I never said I failed to see a reason to worship, I said it seems like a waste on you." with the way venti flinches, diluc knows he's gone too far, he's about to take it back, apologize to his god, when venti pushes the stool back, the wooden chair falling to the floor with a crash, his beret held firm between his fists, venti twists and turns the fabric in his hand, his knuckles growing white with the pressure, "you know diluc, there are days when these kinds of thoughts do nothing more but plague my mind, repeating the same horrid words over and over again till I can do little but pay attention to them." "venti---" "it's a scary thing really, to realize such a dreadful fact about yourself; to look in the mirror and see not a god, not an archon, not a being capable of divinity and power, but someone who doesn't deserve a speck of respect. what you say is true master diluc, I truly am not deserving of any of the praise mondstat likes to sing of, the church, the statue, all the festivals held in my name, none of it." diluc feels his heart sting, the thing beating hard and fast against his chest as he feels the wind pick up outside, heavy and thundering where it beats against the windows of the tavern, and venti--venti is a sight to behold. his hair, entirely undone now, falls long and fair over his shoulders, its ends glowing bright and blue, there are faint tattoos peaking through the fabric of his clothes, they glow the same bright teal as his hair and, oh archons his eyes, diluc can't look away from the anger raging behind them. the fear he feels in the presence of barbatos is nothing tantamount to the absolute awe he feels, so this is what it means to be in the presence of a god. "you are right master diluc. I really am unworthy. and the one who truly deserves the praise," he laughs, it's dry and forced, nothing like the airy laugh that usually filled the tavern, "well, he's not here right now, he hasn't been by my side for a while." the winds have grown stronger, and diluc knows a storm has begun to brew outside but he doesn't care. "do you know what the worst part is? though he's gone, I can never forget him, which, centuries ago, seemed like the worst of sins I could commit, how could I ever forget him? but now... now, I wish I could wake up each day and not remember, not remember how he looked like, what his smile looked like, what the sound of his laugh felt like against the wind. but I can't, and every time I am faced with my reflection he looks back at me and I--I--" rain beats down hard and strong, the tavern door rattles against its hinges and momentarily diluc wonders if it would break off. "why can't I forget? the more I drink, the louder his voice, the more I drink, the clearer the color of his eyes, but to remain sober would be to--diluc?" he doesn't know when nor does he remember moving past the counter, but he walks forward, arms wrapping around the slim figure of his god, his god. this close, he can feel the thrum of power that flows through venti, the divinity of the god that diluc was oh so foolish to doubt, "I don't know what you've been through, I doubt I could live through what you've lived through, it is lonely being immortal yes? but for

the time I have with you, for the rest of my days, I will give you all the comfort and warmth I can, and while I may not be who you so dearly remember, I hope I can be someone you dearly know." venti doesn't respond, the softest sobs are the only response diluc gets as he wraps his own arms around the taller man, his head pushing against the crook of dilucs neck, "would you like that barbatos?" diluc feels soft hair tickle his ear as venti shakes his head, "venti," he murmurs, "call me venti please, master diluc?" diluc laughs, and it is a soft thing, "all right, venti," he holds him tighter, "for the rest of my days, I will worship you, and I will love you." "and then? what about after?" "after? ah," diluc lets his heart swell as he thinks of after, "after, I hope you write a few songs about me."

[morceid]

sway in the snow

12 Days of Moreid 2021

read on ao3

Summary: Derek takes Spencer dancing for their first date.

Word Count: 864

Category: fluff

Content Warnings: none, maybe alcohol

A/N: we’re getting closer and closer to christmas arent we

“Hey pretty boy,” Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s side of the break room table. They were working on a case in Philadelphia.

“What is it?”

“You ever been out dancing?” He asked.

“No, why?” Spencer replied.

“Well, I’ve got an extra ticket to this place my buddy works at, they’ve got a Christmas ball coming up and I was wondering-”

“Oh my god! I got it!” Spencer interrupted Derek and jumped up from his seat, holding the notepad he was writing on.

That night they ended up catching their unsub, and Derek didn’t get an answer to his question. He had only been working with Spencer for a year but he felt so connected to him in every way. He wanted to hug him, to date him, to kiss him, to do everything he felt he couldn’t do with him. He was so enamored, he almost forgot he even attempted to ask Spencer on a date.

When they all got off the jet, Spencer asked for a ride home, and thinking nothing of it, Derek agreed.

“It’s right up here,” Spencer said as they pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.

“Alight, goodnight then Spence.”

“Actually, Derek, I have a question.”

“Yeah? What is it Spence?”

“W-Well, uh, before I solved the case yesterday you were asking me something, what was it?”

“Oh, uh, it’s stupid,” Derek said, turning away.

“Oh come on, there’s no such thing as a stupid question. Just say it!”

“Alright! Alright, Spencer, would you like to go out dancing with me? Like be all fancy and stuff, not just out to a bar?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” Spencer beamed before thanking Derek for the ride and going to his apartment, unable to conceal his happy stims.

The night of the dance Derek sent Spencer all of the event information and prepared himself for the date. He laid out all of his suits and asked Penelope which would be the best, he wore his best socks, and he even put on the cologne his father used to wear.

He got to the place around fifteen minutes early, scared that Spencer might get there first and not know where to sit, and he waited for him. To his surprise, Spencer arrived right on time.

When he walked in, it was like time stopped. Derek looked up to see him. Spencer’s usually messy bob had been thoroughly cleaned and curled, his brows seemed to have just been waxed, and for a moment Derek caught the glow of his lipgloss in the light. Looking down, Derek saw that Spencer was wearing a sparkly gold dress with a poofy skirt, along with a small black jacket around his shoulders. Derek broke his focus when Spencer waved to him.

Spencer walked over to the table and sat with Derek.

“I hope this isn’t too much of a surprise, I asked Penelope what looked best and she really liked this,” Spencer said.

“Oh, you look absolutely amazing Spence, you really live up to your nickname.”

“Well thank you, Derek.”

Derek explained that the first part of the night would be dinner, and the dancing would be afterwards. They both ordered their food and began talking. Eventually, the conversation got to their exes.

“Wow, I cannot believe how many people in this world can be insane to date! What about you Spence? You have any ex stories?” Derek asked, taking a sip of wine.

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever even kissed anyone.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was never old enough to date anyone in highschool or college, plus I was always too busy studying or emailing professors to even think about it.”

“Well then, pretty boy, tonight is gonna be a wonderful night for you,” Derek said, winking.

They continued with light conversation for the rest of their meal, drinking wine along with it.

They went up to the rooftop of the building for the dancing portion of the night. Spencer stared in awe at the beauty of the soft lights scattered around the railings, and Derek stared in awe at the beauty of Spencer. 

Slow jazz music started to play and soon Derek and Spencer were holding onto each other as they moved in rhythm to the sound. Derek held Spencer’s waist gently and Spencer wrapped his arms around his neck and brought them closer together.

“So, why here for a first date?” Spencer asked.

“Why not? It’s a perfect night. The sky is clear, the moon is bright, and you are as beautiful as ever. I’m glad I’m here with you, Spence.”

“I’m glad too. But really, you couldn’t possibly have known that all of these things would fall into place so perfectly, so still, why?”

“Because I wanted to do this,” Derek said, pulling them closer than they had ever been before, and pressing a soft kiss to Spencer’s lips.

Spencer blushed and grinned softly when they pulled away. 

“Wow, that felt perfect,” Spencer giggled.

The couple continued to sway with each other, and soon it started to snow around them. As they danced, Derek pulled Spencer back in for another perfect kiss, and many more after.

TAGLIST: @garceids @moss0ntherocks @scaryisa @tarajareau @4x24 @izzyl13 @leomo0n @tiedyedrose1705 @harpersequoia @wifeyprentiss @moreidsdaughter @sapphicalexblake @soap-allergy

[sukunna]

sukuna with a black s/o

the day the brat lays his eyes on you, sukuna thinks you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen in his long years of living.  

and he tells you straight up

in his own way of course

forms a mouth on yuujis cheek and hes like😏

probably says something smart like, “oh? and what’s your name?”

first thing that draws him to you was your skin color

he’s never seen somebody quite glow like the way you do in the sunlight

second, was your hair. every curl/coil, every frizz, every strand he would analyze. through yuujis eyes, he’d stare and stare every time you were in the room.

it’s been a while since he’s seen somebody who has piqued his interest on solely looks, and when he discovers you’re a powerful jujutsu sorcerer?  INSTANT BONER== he’s pleased.

flirts with you shamelessly on the daily. any chance he gets, there he goes, running his mouth. pretty black people just do that to him, he can’t help it

when he takes control of yuujis body, he makes sure to pat your head, you know, for experiment…

honestly, he just wanted to piss you off because he know you hates it whenever people touch your hair,,, but he ended up really liking it. soft human hair…

the sadist side of him beckons him to pull one of your curls just to piss you off, but he’ll be a good boy

for now :-)