#i saw the prompt with past lives and couldn't resist

[loviingpedri]

tripling the fun - jude and jobe bellingham

part 2 -> part 1 here

prompt: jude fulfills everyone’s dreams.

jude x fem!reader.

jobe & reader platonic soulmates

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguments (happy ending), jealous jude, all characters are fictional (except jude, jobe, and their parents)

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

salt air, and the rust on your door.

flower in your hair, feet in the sand, salty air entering through your nose.

joining the annual vacation with the bellingham family and your sweet parents, life felt as ease.

at least, for you.

jude was rapidly tapping his feet on the wood bedroom floor. hands in his hair, anxiety filling up his thoughts. jobe was seriously getting concerned.

“mate, you have two days. everything is gonna be okay.” sitting next to him on the bed, jobe put his hand on jude’s shoulder to get his nerves to calm down.

“i’m overthinking it now. what if she says no? what if she only sees me as a brother? am i being delusional?” he could feel his heart racing, and it wasn’t even the day.

jude was planning to ask you out. he felt like no other person who wasn't blood related to him could understand him, deeper and personally better than you. noticing over the past few years, he noticed his rising feelings for you. getting overexcited by the mention of you two hanging out. his cheeks heat up as the thought of you popping into his head. his resistance of trying not to pull you into a deep hug.

jobe, trying to comfort him to the best of his ability, was getting concerned. “jude, you seriously need to calm down. y/n is one of my favorite people in the entire world. have you ever seen her talk to anyone else? i mean seriously, her whole life involves us.”

“you’re not helping,” jude stands up from the bed, heading his way outside for a bit of fresh air. “i need a breather.”

walking across the sand to gather his thoughts, he saw a familiar figure in the distance.

admiring how your hair flowed in the air, perfectly shaped and painted nails coming into contact with the golden sand. your lashes slowly moving up and down as you blinked. he couldn’t grasp the idea of losing you.

“hey jude, what’s going on?” almost standing up, he quickly sat down beside you. “is anyone asking for me?”

shaking his head, “nah, everything is fine. i just needed to take a walk.”

noticing his body language, and how his eyebrows moved when he talked, something was wrong. “you seem tense. is there anything you wanna talk about? what’s on your mind?” you scooted closer to him, touching shoulders.

jude cleared his throat, a lump forming. “there’s nothing wrong. i just wanted to see the sunset. beautiful waves isn’t it?”

“definitely. i wish i could spend all day here.” resting your head on his shoulder, he began to control his breathing and heart rate. struggling to make a next move, he moved his arm to push you closer by your shoulder.

little did you know, your mother and denise were standing from the balcony, watching you two embrace each other’s comfort.

jobe holding his youngest nephew, who was pointing at the future couple, seeing what the future could bring.

----------the next morning--------------

"hey little one." jude picked up his niece and spun around.

"i found your stash of flowers. they look really pretty. are they for me?" catching a small glimpse of the gap of her teeth, jude couldn't help but laugh at the question.

"i would like to say yes, but they're for a really special girl. are you ready to go swim at the beach?"

a frown formed on her lips, "yeah, i guess so. i can't wait to build a giant sand castle that i can live there forever." she threw her arms up high in excitement.

"i don't know about forever, but i'm sure it's gonna be great."

a knock was heard on the door. the air felt colder as tension fell.

"hey jude, we're about to go." you gave him a warm smile, as he stood there in silence. he put the princess down as he went to go sat down on his bed.

he picked up his phone, texting jobe,

i'll be at the beach later, got to get my things together.

he took a deep breath. and for the next 30 minutes, he was trying to form the perfect plan. going out to the balcony to look for a special spot to set up a dinner. noticing splashes that seem far more intense.

getting a better view, he noticed you and jobe. jobe was hugging you from behind and throwing you into the waves. shared laughter echoing throughout the beach. he couldn't lie, the inside of the palm of his hands were sweating and getting white from the grip of the wood. he didn't wanna admit he was getting jealous of his own brother, but the timing was nowhere near perfect for things like this to happen. he has seen moments like this between you two, but it felt different. his head began pounding. he grabbed his towel and ran out to hopefully score a remarkable moment with you

smiles appeared on everyone's faces as he walked through the burning hot sand.

"jude, you're here!" you yelled as sounds of waves crashing and seagulls talking. he waved at you while he gave his mom his belongings for safe keeping.

joining you and jobe in the water, he felt off. in his imagination, jude felt like a mood-killer. the laughter died down, the sun no longer reflected off your skin. he felt like he caused something wrong.

clearing the air, jobe did little small splashes throughout the trio. jude stared at the smile that was on your face after jobe's actions. he felt anger race through his blood. impulsive thinking, he pushed the water right into jobe's face. jobe dodging the salt water in his eyes, he was confused on jude's sudden gesture. you ignored what just happened, because siblings can be siblings.

actions speaking more than words, jude became more aggressive. walking more towards to shore for safety, jude wasn't just playing around. he gave a jude a small but rough push to jobe, making him slip and fall into the water.

"jude, what the fuck." his eyebrows narrowed watching you trying to help jobe to his balance. you weren't sure what was going on, but awkwardness was following all three of you.

jobe cleared his throat, "do you know what we're having for dinner?"

"i think our dads are grilling tonight." jobe nodded as you played with the salt water. without any explanation, jude walked back to get the towel from his mom, and walked back to the house. jobe and you made eye contact in confusion, but just brushed it off.

walking to the shore, the three little children were playing with the sand. classic sand castle with wet sand circling it. picking up the baby boy, giving him a small kiss on his forehead, you could really see jude’s face written all over him.

“y/n, you should sit. the sand is cool under the umbrella.” jobe patted a spot next to him under the shade. sitting the baby down on your lap and hugging his tiny body, he pointed at the sand in jobe’s bucket.

“are you going to help build our castle?” the little princess with her pink hat was desperately trying to scoop a decent amount of sand in her flimsy shovel. jobe nodded his head, but we all know he loses the sand castle contest every year.

“y/n, guess what.” the girl said with a bright smile.

“what?” you smiled back, but more in confusion.

“jude has flowers in his room. i asked if they were for me, he said no. he said it was for someone special though.”

your lips made a small gap. you were shocked at the fact. jobe held in his breath. he was looking back and forth in panic.

“did you know jude was talking to someone, jobe?” he looked at you with slightly wider eyes.

frantically shaking his head, “no, of course not.” he looked at his mom for some help.

“did you know?” you asked denise.

she shrugged it off with a “no darling.” as she was playing it off. you were playing with the baby’s soft curls as your mind wandered off.

—————————

“hey jude, how are you?” walking into his room and sitting down on the desk chair as he sat on the bed, scrolling through social media.

with an unexpected surprise, jude sat up. “i’m doing fine, how are you? you look like you got a nice tan.”

a slight giggle coming out, “yeah, it’s pretty nice. i just wanted to ask you about something.”

“about?”

“our lovely niece told me you bought flowers for someone,” jude instantly looked at you in your eyes. has his secret been busted? “i was just wondering who they were for. usually when you start talking to someone, jobe and i know.”

“oh, it’s nothing really. i bought them just because.”

“just because? you can’t be serious. have you met someone at the beach?” you got up from the chair and sat next to his legs on the edge of the bed.

“seriously y/n. they’re not for anyone. it wouldn’t be any of your business anyway.”

“excuse me?”

“why are you always in my business? i feel like you and jobe are spying on everything i do. and you try to get me to speak about everything. just leave me alone.”

“what the hell are you on about? we’ve never invaded your privacy. if you felt this way, you could’ve said something a long time ago.”

standing up in anger, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. everyone told everyone updates on their life, this wasn’t a secret tradition. surprisingly, jude would be the one sharing most of his life updates.

“you know what, you always take jobe’s side too. i feel left out every time. when i come around, you and him stop laughing and it gets all silent. i feel like i’m the bad guy.”

“jude, you’ve been acting fucking mental lately. i don’t know why you’re being like this, but you need to fix it. i asked a simple question, not a whole lecture from you.”

tears formed in your eyes as you went to leave the room.

“yeah, go run to jobe like you always do.” was the last thing you heard before slamming the door with a loud bam following it.

jobe was waiting outside the door, hearing everything. breaking down in his arms, you thought this vacation would be different.

----------the next morning--------------

the smell of syrup, eggs, and other breakfast goodies was lurking around the beach house.

not a word from jude after the argument. it wasn’t any surprise that everyone in the place heard what was happening. mark, jude and jobe’s dad, made sure to cook butterfly pancakes to try and cheer you up. something he loved doing for you since you were a child.

sitting down with a plate of eggs and toast, he placed the pancake in front of you with a little whipped cream in the middle. giving you a gentle pat on the back, you thanked him quietly. jobe sat down next to you, not wasting a chance to dig in.

all of a sudden, the hairs on your arms rose due to the coldness. awkwardness cooling down the food as jude walked into the room. jobe cleared his throat as he glanced at you before looking down. you continued to try and eat, even though he made you lose your appetite.

“morning.” jude said to his mom as he gave her a little peck on her forehead.

quick change of events as jude sat on the other side of you. it was normal of course, jude, you, and jobe. it was just unexpected that he pretended nothing happened.

everyone ate in awkward silence. except jude, humming and dancing as he ate. his mom looked at him in concern.

“what?” he questioned her, as she quickly shook her head no. “being awfully quiet this morning, what did i miss?” everyone looked at him in confusion.

“nothing, just eat.”

he threw his arms up, “hey, i’m not making this awkward. you guys are.” he got up and started washing his plate and fork.

he was right, we were the ones being awkward. it didn’t change the fact that you didn’t get an apology though. finishing up your breakfast, you forced yourself to approach him with your dirty dishes. putting it into the sink, you stood behind him, waiting for him to be done.

he slightly whispered to you, “it’s fine, i got it.” you nodded at him while you went to the balcony for a summer breeze. soon, your mother and denise joined you.

after a few hours of talking, you got a text from jude. reading,

hey, can we talk later? meet me at the beach in 2 hours.

you tried not to question it. yet, the thought lingered. jude always apologizes straight away after an argument. what made it different now? giving the message a thumbs up, you continued talking with the ladies.

“hey y/n, did jude text you?” denise asked you.

“yeah, he did. he told me to meet him in 2 hours at the beach, but that was about an hour ago.”

“oh honey, you should probably change then.” your mom chimed in.

“what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?”

“wearing pajama pants in hot sand is not very fabulous.” the two moms laughed as they rushed to put something together in your room.

after playing dress up through your suitcase, it was finally time to go. the sun was starting to set, the orange hitting the water perfectly. walking down the creaking wooden stairs, you weren’t sure to expect.

looking to your right, you hands flew on your mouth. a table surrounded with roses, forming a heart shape, was lit with a candle. standing there at the table was jude, with a bouquet of flowers. he looked very nervous.

walking up to him, you really admired the detail. you both started laughing at the sudden seriousness in the friendship.

“are you kidding me? this is surreal.” you hugged him and kissed him on his cheek.

“do you forgive me? is this too much? i didn’t know if the flowers were too much. i also didn’t know if you wanted sand in between your toes as you ate. i mean, i could literally get on my knees and beg for forgiveness. please, forgive me.” cutting him off, you placed a finger on his lips.

“of course i do. i could never stay mad at my best friend.”

“uh. ouch. i was actually going to ask you something. y/n, would you be my girlfriend.”

your mouth formed an ‘o’ shaped. he started tapping his feet in stress.

“i don’t see why i shouldn’t be.” dropping the flowers quickly on the seat, he hugged you.

in history of hugs throughout your friendship, this one was the best one. it marked a new beginning.

a new beginning of love.

-

to one of my lovely supporters - @judesthighveins

[cera-writes]

Heyo saw you were taking requests for Gambit and I'm deathly starved for content of our favorite cajun could I request something really fluffy maybe Remy taking us to the french quarter and going to cafe du monde for beignets and taking touristy pics in front of the st Louis just light hearted fun 😊 anyway love your writing and hope you keep it up!

I love this idea! I literally went to New Orleans again over the weekend and it's fresh off my memory so this was a fun idea to write <3 Pairing: Remy LeBeau x Reader Prompt: Remy shows reader a fun, cute time in the French Quarter.

A walk Around the Quarter

The air hung thick with the scent of chicory coffee and powdered sugar, drawing Remy LeBeau and you deeper into the bustling heart of the French Quarter. The vibrant hues of Creole cottages and wrought iron balconies blurred past as Remy, ever the charming guide, navigated the labyrinthine streets with practiced ease. Each corner turned revealed a new treasure: a hidden courtyard overflowing with blooming jasmine, a street musician coaxing soulful melodies from a weathered saxophone, the tantalizing aroma of Cajun spices wafting from an open doorway.

"Welcome, cher," Remy announced with a flourish as you both emerged into the sun-drenched plaza fronting the iconic St. Louis Cathedral. "The crown jewel of New Orleans, and the perfect backdrop for our first touristy snapshot."

He winked and produced a camera seemingly from thin air, capturing your smiles against the majestic facade. Then, with a playful tug, he led you towards your ultimate destination.

"Prepare yourself," Remy warned with a grin. "For a taste of pure, unadulterated bliss."

Cafe du Monde, a bastion of beignet-fueled delight, awaited. The air thrummed with the lively chatter of patrons and the rhythmic clatter of trays laden with the irresistible pastries. Remy secured a coveted table, its marble top already dusted with a generous layer of powdered sugar. A street performer, drawn by your laughter, serenaded you both with a jaunty tune on his accordion, adding a touch of whimsy to the already enchanting atmosphere.

"Three beignets, s'il vous plait," Remy requested with a practiced charm that had the waitress returning in record time.

The beignets arrived, a trio of golden-brown pillows, their airy centers promising a symphony of flavor. Remy, a connoisseur of the finer things, demonstrated the proper technique: a delicate pinch, a generous dip in the accompanying mound of powdered sugar, and a bite that elicited a satisfied sigh.

"C'est magnifique, non?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with delight.

The afternoon unfolded in a leisurely haze of powdered sugar and laughter. You strolled through Jackson Square, admiring the vibrant works of local artists, and paused to listen to the soulful melodies of a street musician. Remy, ever the entertainer, even tried his hand at juggling, much to the amusement of onlookers. A horse-drawn carriage clopped past, its passengers waving merrily, and Remy couldn't resist doffing his hat with a flourish.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the Quarter, Remy and you found yourselves back at the St. Louis Cathedral. The plaza was bathed in a soft, ethereal light, creating a scene of undeniable romance. The street lamps flickered to life, casting dancing shadows on the ancient walls, and the distant sound of jazz music drifted on the breeze.

"One last photo, cher?" Remy asked, his voice a low murmur.

He captured the moment, your silhouettes framed against the cathedral's illuminated spires.

"But the night is still young," Remy said with a wink. "Care to hear some real New Orleans music?"

He led you down a dimly lit alley, the sound of a saxophone growing louder with each step. You emerged into a smoky jazz club, the air pulsating with the rhythm of the music. Remy took your hand and led you to the dance floor, where you twirled and swayed to the infectious beat. The music wrapped around you, a tapestry of notes and emotions, and you lost yourself in the moment, in Remy's eyes, in the magic of the night.

As the final notes faded, Remy pulled you close. "Merci," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "For sharin' dis perfect day with Remy."

The French Quarter, with its vibrant tapestry of sights, sounds, and flavors, had woven its magic. And at its heart, amidst the beignets, laughter, and the rhythm of the jazz, a connection had blossomed, leaving a trail of unforgettable memories in its wake.

[mattmurdocksscars]

Tuna-Tober Day 1

Hello everyone! As the title suggests, this is Day 1 of Tuna-tober! We're starting the month off with a new character! I hope you all enjoy!

Tuna-tober prompt: Falling asleep in a hospital room

Word count: ~850

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

It all happened so fast. The fight breaking out, Logan unsheathing his claws to scare them, you seeing a man with a gun pointed at Logan. In the moment, you panicked. You forgot about Logan's healing factor and you just moved. You tried wrestling the gun from the man but then it went off and that was really the last thing you remembered. 

Now, you're slowly joining the realm of consciousness. You hear a steady beeping and the sound of someone's soft breathing. Opening your eyes, it takes you a second to recognize where you were. 

The hospital. Being shot. So much blood. A fuzzy face above you. Logan! 

You immediately try to sit up but pain lances through you at the motion. You hiss out in pain and it causes the person beside you to shift. It catches your attention and you turn your head to see who it is. A smile immediately grows on your face as you realize it's Logan asleep in the chair next to your bed. He looks a little rough, his beard grown out and bags under his eyes. He's in sweatpants and a hoodie and his massive form barely seems to fit in the little hospital chair they've given him.

“Oh, Lo.” You whisper, aching to reach out and touch him. But he'd made it clear to you in the past that he wasn't to be touched in his sleep. He didn't want to risk hurting you. So you leaned back in the bed and watched him for several minutes. You knew he would've wanted you to wake him up but you couldn't resist getting to see him so at peace.

But your time watching him was short lived as the door to your hospital room opened, waking Logan and startling you. Charles rolled through the door and he smiled when he saw you awake.

“It's good to see you awake, my dear. You gave us quite the scare.” He told you. You felt your cheeks warm and you looked down at your lap.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make anyone worry. Is everyone else okay?” You asked. You hadn't been out with just Logan, after all. Jean, Scott, and Ororo had been there too.

“Everyone is fine. Don't you worry about them. For now, your concern should lie with yourself.” You nodded slowly. You could feel Logan's stare burning into the side of your skull, but you steadfastly ignored him for the moment. 

“Right. Am I okay? I know I was shot but things get fuzzy after that.” You tell Charles. He nods and moves a little closer.

“You're going to be just fine. The bullet didn't hit anything vital, thankfully. You'll just be spending a few days here in the hospital so you can heal.”

Charles looked between you and Logan and smiled.

“I'll leave you two be. We'll see you soon.” And with that Charles wheeled himself out of the room. Now, you couldn't ignore Logan's angry stare any longer and so you slowly turned your head to face him.

“Lo-”

“What the hell were you thinking? Huh? Have you lost your mind? Is that it?” Oh, he was seething. You looked down at your lap again and tried to ignore the stinging in your eyes.

“Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you. This is important. You don't ever do something like that again. Do you hear me?” 

“I can't promise that.” You tell him. 

“Why the hell not?” He stands, towering over you. It's as if he's trying to intimidate you into doing what he wants and that's what finally pisses you off. You whip your head up to glare at him, tears stinging in your eyes again.

“Because I care about you, Logan! Fuck. You're right, I wasn't thinking. I just saw the gun pointed at you and I panicked, okay?!” 

“Not okay. What if you'd been hit somewhere vital? You don't heal like I do! You could have been seriously hurt. Or killed. You think I want that to happen?” 

“Of course I don't think you want me to die. But Logan, I don't want anything happening to you either. Logically, I know you can take a bullet and be fine, but that doesn't mean I want you too.” You tell him. His face softens a little at that and he sighs, sitting back down and scooting the chair close to your bed. 

“Just don't scare me like that again, okay? I can't take it.” He tells you. You reach for his hand and you're pleasantly surprised when he gives it to you. You lace your fingers together and give him a squeeze. 

“I'll try not to. I didn't exactly enjoy being shot.” You tease and are happy when he smiles. 

“All the more reason not to do it again.” He tells you. You two stay like that for a while, bantering back and forth. Something you were more than happy with. He may not have confessed his feelings to you, but he did admit he cared. And that was enough for you.

[in-my-loki-feels]

🫶 for Don/President Loki 💕

Thank you for the prompt! I just love having fun with these two. 💖

Here's another maybe canonical-to-the-AU/maybe not scene of them in Asgard. (Which is a real fic I'm still working on, not just a fanciful imagining.😆)

CW NSFW

11.🫶 Teasing or sensual touch

“I don't think I've had a bath since I was a kid,” Don said as he lowered himself into the water.  Loki watched with his eyes half closed until Don was submerged up to his chest.  “That's because your bathtub is only suitable for children,” he said, letting his eyes fall closed. 

The bathroom of the presidential suite wasn't as grand as those here in Asgard, but it was far better than the one at Don's house. The more time Loki spent there, the more he noticed how many aspects of the home were in dire need of an upgrade. He didn’t understand how the man was content to live with such shabby surroundings. He heard Don chuckle and then sigh. “It's not like I have a lot of time to be lounging around anyway.” His voice was quiet, as if the heat of the bath was already working its magic. Loki opened his eyes.  Don mirrored Loki, reclining against the far end of the bathtub with his arms resting on the sides. It was deep enough that even though Don bent his knees, they were still fully submerged. Loki had his own legs stretched out, forcing Don to put his feet on either side of Loki’s so that their ankles touched. Don had his eyes closed and his head tipped back. The warmth of the water had brought a pink tinge to his skin that was creeping up from where the water lapped against his chest. Don sighed again, looking completely relaxed, his expression softened like it always was when he'd just woken up.  Loki couldn't resist the temptation. He lifted one foot and dragged the outside of his ankle along the inside of Don's calf. As he slid it back down, he watched Don crack one eye open. Loki held his gaze as he did it again, going up to the inside of Don’s knee.  Loki lowered his foot to the bottom of the bathtub and Don shifted slightly but didn’t draw his legs away.  “I thought you wanted to relax,” he said, looking more amused than surprised.  “I did,” Loki replied and lifted his foot again. He paused there, not touching Don yet, only watching Don’s gaze drop as he swallowed. Then Loki put his foot back down.  Don looked up, saw Loki’s expression, and shook his head with a soft laugh. Loki’s smirk grew. Don had figured out the game.  Don shifted again, sinking a little lower into the water and leaning his head back. When he closed his eyes, he was smiling. “We have different ideas about relaxing,” he said.  Loki let the anticipation build as he watched Don breathe in and out, then trailed his foot up that same path, going a little further past Don’s knee this time.  “I find this very relaxing,” Loki said, repeating the motion. He watched Don grip the sides of the bathtub to hold himself still.  “Of course you do,” Don muttered, but there was humor in his voice.  Loki continued to tease with slow brushes of his foot along Don’s skin, working his way closer and closer to Don’s crotch, his gaze on Don’s face the whole time. He could tell when Don shifted from simply attempting to hold still, to resisting the urge to touch himself. Loki continued until Don’s hands were trembling where they held onto the bathtub.  Only then did Loki pull his foot back completely and sit up, causing the water to slosh against them both. Don opened his eyes, looking confused at first and then relieved when he saw Loki closing in on him. Don reached out as Loki settled in between his legs, tilting his face up for a kiss. “Had enough relaxing?” Don asked against Loki’s lips.  “Simply changing the method,” Loki replied with a grin, and then set about helping Don release all that delicious tension he'd built up.

Prompts are here. Other ficlets here.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Heyy I love your writing for pretty much all your characters. I saw your dialogue prompt request was open sooo here I am 😭.

Maybe “Stop grumbling and just tell me where your medicine cabinet is.” With Charlie (no one writes for him hardly). The man has to have a good amount of scars since he works with dragons.

Have a wonderful day.

omg yes! I love this so much! thank you for liking my writing, love! 🥰 I also agree that Charlie doesn't get the love he deserves so thank you for requesting him! have a wonderful day too! I hope you like this (since I usually have Charlie being the one hurt, I switched it here, hope you don't mind 😊)

"Hi" you smiled innocently at your boyfriend who looked like he could kill someone.

"Hi?" he glared at you. "Hi? That's all you have to say to me? You show up on my door burned, bruised, and with cuts all over your skin and all you have to say is... hi?"

"Um... yes?" you tried, looking up at him sweetly but his glare stayed. “Stop grumbling and just tell me where your medicine cabinet is” you said, walking inside and past him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he asked as you moved through Charlie's hut, looking for the medicine kit you had used many times on him.

"Charlie-"

"No, I'll answer that. You weren't thinking! Do you have any idea how dangerous what you did was?"

"Really, Charlie? Enlighten me, and tell me why what I did was any different than what you always do?" you asked, getting upset.

"This is not the same and you know it!" he snapped. "You don't have the same training that I have-"

"I have the same training as you, Charles!"

"No! Your job is to take care of our baby dragons-!"

"Yes! And one of your dragons was getting to my baby dragons! So, what was I supposed to do?"

"YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO STAY THERE TO TAKE CARE OF IT BY YOURSELF!" he yelled.

You felt upset that he had raised his voice and he could see it in your eyes as you just stood there with the first aid kit in your hand.

"You done? Got your whole man thing out of the way and you're ready to talk to me and help me now? Or should I just do this myself?"

You sat down on Charlie's table and he begrudgingly followed after a few seconds, sighing frustrated. He grabbed the kit from your hand and grabbed your arm, starting to fix you up in complete silence.

"I'm sorry I yelled" he said after he was done.

"I know" you said with a small smile. "It's okay" you told him.

"What you did was not okay, love" he said in a soft tone, grabbing your hands in his. "I need you to understand that" he insisted. "I can't- I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you" he said as you noticed his eyes watering a little.

"I'm okay, love" you said, cupping his cheek with your hand. "I'm sorry I worried you. I know how that feels" you said with a small smirk.

"I'm sorry I ever worried you like this" he admitted, pulling you to sit on his lap and burying his head on your neck. "I'm so glad you're okay" he sighed, feeling like a weight being lifted off his shoulders now that you were safe here in his arms.

"I love you" you smiled, looking at him to give him a peck on the lips but he pulled away and you pouted. He let out a small chuckle, unable to resist and giving you a kiss on the lips.

"I love you too!"

[thehollowwriter]

🎞️ for a glimpse into my ocs past

For Silas!

(So you can send asks to yourself...)

*wheeze* I could've just made this a whole fic but I think it worked better for the prompt. Thanks for the anon, me!/j. Anyways *ahem* here take this quick fic of Silas being put through the ringer after Finn was born

🎞️ for a glimpse into my ocs past

Silas was in a lot of pain. Well, he was always in a lot of pain because of that damn harpoon, but this was a new pain. A different one.

There was a horrid cramping at the pit of his stomach, a stabbing pan that gave him the urge to curl into a ball and die. It hurt so much.

He was told it the pain would stop once everything was over, but doctors loved to spout nonsense, so he was unsurprised to find that it was just word fluff to get him to stay still.

Silas was sitting in the NICU, staring at an incubator. He was told he needed to lie down and rest to recover, but he ignored the nagging annoyances trying to tell him what to do. He would heal in his own time. For now, his focus was on something much more important.

The only piece of his life that he had left, his only reason for staying alive right now, lay hooked up to a ventilator and a feeding tube, so very still.

Finn. His son. His baby.

Through his translucent skin, Silas could see his heart beating steadily. The heart monitor was there too, but it didn't comfort him as much as seeing the real thing.

Silas couldn't stop thinking about what happened mere hours ago, the terror that filled his heart when he realised that Finn wasn't breathing.

"No," He had rasped out, trying to grab him from a doctor. "No no no no, he can't die, he can't die, please, please, give him to me, that's my-"

Finn didn't die. But all those tubes and the way he lay so quiet and still made Silas feel sick and guilty.

"This is your fault." Said a voice in the back of his head. "He's suffering because of you."

Silas tried to ignore it just as he tried to ignore the all too familiar feeling of grief causing pains in his chest. He tried not to think about everything that had happened barely a week before. His life had been torn to shreds. The proof of his failures had been permanently etched onto his skin. There was nothing left but his only living child that couldn't even breathe on his own.

The nurses would check on Finn and make sure the palm-sized, wrinkly little shark pup was doing alright. Every time Silas had to take in a slow breath through his gills and dig his claws into his skin to resist the urge to chase them off, kill them maybe, for getting so close.

"Don't worry, everything's going to be fine." He was told. "We're keeping a close eye on him."

All Silas could think about was his grandfather and his death in this same hospital.

"Liar," He wanted to scream at them, just as he had all those years ago. "Liar liar liar-"

But he stayed quiet and stared at the nurses, his eyes burning with distrust and hatred.

The anger and grief and guilt were all-consuming, swirling together to form a pit Silas felt he couldn't escape from. All he could do was stew in it all and obsessively watch over his son.

His tail and lower back were aching from sitting in the same position for so long, but he didn't care. As long as he could ensure Finn's safety, all was well.

Silas was finally allowed to touch Finn through the openings in the incubator.

He gently traced Finn's skin and murmured softly, letting out a gasp of amazement and relief when he saw Finn curl his hand around his claw. Finn cooed softly, and Silas repeated the noise back at him, clicking his teeth.

Something warm broke through the anguish. For the first time in days, Silas smiled.

"Hello, little one."

-End

Man I make this poor man suffer too much

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps @quartztwst

[mcflymemes]

MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS *  collection #12

i'm just trying to figure out stuff.

oh. this is bad news.

don't bother.

you don't know that!

food and sex. those are my two passions.

you don't know my name, do you.

that must have been very hard, losing someone you love like that.

i'm beginning to be very fond of you.

that crap will kill you.

that's a shame.

this is quite a coincidence.

would you care to join me?

you are not a complete idiot.

that's an important part of any relationship.

i never go to funerals. i prefer to remember my friends as i saw them last.

thank you for that.

i sometimes have a silly effect on people.

that's very impressive.

you mustn't take me literally.

why can't people mind their own business?

do you see something wrong?

today was rough.

can i sit in this?

is this about me?

i like spending time with you.

i would love some help.

i really don't care for you much.

don't count on that.

why don't you get settled on the couch, and i'll bring you whatever you need.

i'll tell you how they did that later.

my car's right here.

i always get like this.

does he always wear a suit?

i've been living a lie.

i always liked the circus.

we don't hang out.

i could use some good news.

i can't tell you what a big help you've been.

is there anything that doesn't bore you?

i wouldn't put it past you.

i do a little cooking.

when did you first suspect me?

that can't be possible.

did they love you?

can all of this be true?

now wait a minute.

i was an idiot for giving in.

you and i think the same way. it's amazing.

forgive me for wandering off.

it's almost two o'clock in the morning! what are you doing here?

i do wish people would stop asking me that.

you must never underestimate me.

do you have a picture?

tell me you didn't predict that.

i can't let you get away with it.

i've got my eyes on you.

we're behind you. all of us.

it was a trivial matter.

there's no one i trust more with my life or my death than you.

please give me a hug.

are you sure you want to do that?

i just wanted to ask you a few questions.

i really love my work.

most people want to die in their sleep.

i like the way you wear your hair.

i don't know what you're talking about.

do you understand what i am telling you?

i happen to dress based on my mood.

just remember - it's not a lie if you believe it.

i advise you to do the same.

i couldn't resist trying your pinball machine.

there's just one more thing.

i'm not ready to say goodbye.

whatever it is, make it quick.

just tell me what's going on.

would you dance with me?

when you look annoyed all the time, people think you're busy.

[gerardway-is-my-babygirl]

Renfield Anniversary Week, day 3: Favourite Scene

I struggled a bit with deciding what to do for this prompt, since I love the glowup montage so much and what It represents, but I also have so many thoughts and feelings about the apartment scene and the gym scene.

Heres a little drabble about the last 2, since I can't pick between them.

Renfield had walked out of the apartment -- his apartment -- that morning with a new purpose, a new reason to live. He had repainted and redecorated It, repairing and undoing the damage done to himself In the process, finally freeing himself from the filth and darkness that Dracula had buried him In, finally living again. The bright walls and ugly furniture are the complete opposite of what Dracula likes, and so Renfield likes them. His apartment defies everything Dracula Is and opposes everything he had tried to surround Renfield with, a sensory overload to the vampire, while a home to Renfield. He finally had a home.

Then he walked back Into his apartment that evening with everything he had worked for ripped away from him In an Instant. His hopes and dreams, his purpose, his life, they were all torn to shreds right In front of him by the same creature who had done the same all those decades ago, back when he was In the asylum. The world around him was drained of colour, tarnished by the vampire Invading the only space he finally felt happy, destroying everything Renfield had put together with his own hands. He should have known better, he should have known not to bother trying to live again, but the Idea of It sounded so wonderful that he couldn't resist the apple handed to him, never considering the consequences and only savouring the taste.

That taste of freedom was the best thing he had felt In decades, and It had rotted In his mouth the second he saw the monster In his home. He had tried so hard to defuse the situation and calm Dracula, but he was only burned when he got too close, berated for his acts of heroism, punished for his betrayal and disobedience, mocked for his weakness to Dracula's temptation. The blame was thrown onto him as always, draining every ounce of confidence he had built up over the past day In an attempt to stand up to the vampire, leaving him weak and silent. He tried so hard to follow the advice Mark gave him, tried to fight back, tried to look to the book for guidance, but In the end he was shoved Into the corner once more and forced to cower before his God.

The apartment Isn't his anymore. It's crowded with cruel laughter and yelling that fills the air. The shadows hide the monster who he had tried to escape. Every single area Dracula touched Is ruined, forever marked with Invisible bootprints that force him back Into the corner. The Imaginary stains can't be scrubbed away, no matter how many times Renfield will try to claw at the rug with as many cleaning sprays as he can find. His life Is always going to be haunted by Dracula. His home Is Dracula's now, everything Is.

He raced to the gym to try and save the others from his destruction, to somehow protect them from being ripped from their lives by a monster who was never supposed to be there In the first place. None of them listened. None of them let him save them. Did he even try to save them at all?

He begged for Dracula to spare them, but all he did was watch when the Inevitable happened. He watched.

They all fell Into Dracula's trap, unable to move or run further than a few feet as Renfield was tossed to the side like a broken toy. At that moment he knew he was no longer necessary, and how nothing he can do will stop the vampire from Inflicting pain on anyone Renfield tries to seek help from. Dracula can't let him have anything but him, knowing that even when he destroys whatever Renfield tried to put his effort Into, that he'll still come crawling back to him.

Dracula's display of power and his unnecessary slaughtering of everyone Is nothing but a game to him, amusing him temporarily In his Immortal life as he mercilessly rips at the people Renfield finally opened up to. He thought he was a hero, but he's a monster just like Dracula, a part of his twisted game, fighting on his side no matter what he does. He can't look away from the destruction, with everyone screaming as claws and fangs tear them to bloody pieces, but he couldn't prevent It even If he tried.

He couldn't prevent Mark from bleeding out, staining his useless hands with his blood but doing nothing to stop It. He was made to destroy lives, not save them.

Mark stared Into his eyes In his final agonising moments of life, and Renfield could see his realisation that he was a murderer. It doesn't matter how hard he tries to be a hero, he can't stop killing people. It's In his nature.

He started that day truly believing that he would never spill a drop of blood again, but ended It with his hands stained red.

Even his jumper, the thing that he had worn with pride as he began to rediscover himself, was ruined. Dracula had complimented It when he entered the apartment, praising Renfield for his pathetic attempt at defying him. He had even touched It, marking the fabric with bloody hands and destroying the last shred of hope Renfield had left as Mark died In his arms.

The jumper was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance for him to redeem himself and live again, to be a person and be free. He's literally letting colour and light back Into his life again after being trapped In the darkness for so long and Dracula Is just dragging him down Into the shadows again. Whatever Renfield does, he always ends up back In the darkness, caged In by Dracula's claws and held on an Invisible leash by his rare moments of kindness.

Everything Is ruined.

[searchingforgravity]

Wonderful Christmas Time - Day 7 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Elvis has made it very clear that he's interested in you over the past few months, but you are in denial, thinking he's just being nice. But when you have Christmas dinner with him and your family, he makes it known how much he wants you.

TW: Smut, Sex, oral (male receiving), public fingering (female receiving)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 3084

A/N: Here's day 7, I hope you guys enjoy it! Happy reading!

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," You say, blushing furiously as you accidentally walk in on Elvis changing, stripped down to his boxers, his hands in the waistband as he was just about to pull them down as well. "Jesus!" he exclaims, not expecting you to be so close to his room. He looks over at you as you are glued to your spot, gawking at him. He raises an eyebrow and a soft smirk forms on his lips. "Uh...(y/n)," he says questioningly. Your face turns beet red with embarrassment as you quickly cover your eyes, turning to go out the door. "Sorry-," you say as you start walking towards the door before smacking straight into the side of the door frame. "Ow! Damn it!" you yell at your stupidity. "Sweet heart, you alright?" he questions, concern filling his voice as you hear him approaching. You wave your hand at him to stop him. "Yes! I'm fine, I-I'll see you out there," you say, mortification flooding your voice. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed," he mumbles to himself, but you don't hear him as you quickly shut the door to his bedroom. You sigh as you sit on the couch of his house, covering your face again as you cringe at the embarrassment you'd caused yourself. You had gone to Elvis' room to ask him if he could give you his opinion on a few outfits you had for the family Christmas party tonight. It would be a Christmas dinner with both of your families, so you wanted to look your best. Your family has been friends of his family since before the two of you were born and, although you two hadn't been super close growing up, as you got older, a friendship has bloomed between you. One that Elvis desperately wants to be romantic, but you just aren't picking up on the hints he's given you. The soft touches on your knee as you two sat together for dinner. The hugs he gave you that would last a little too long. He wants you so bad he could scream, but it seems you don't feel the same way.

"How's that head a' yours?" He asks, a slight chuckle on his voice as he walks into the living room, now fully dressed for the party. As you look at him, you can't help the thoughts that run through your head. He is the most attractive boy you'd ever laid eyes on, but of course you couldn't tell him that, he only views you as a friend. If he saw you as anything else, he surely would've made a move on you, you think. "Haha, very funny. It's fine," you say removing your hand from your head, shrugging it off. "Here, let me take a look," he breathes, sitting down next to you on the sofa. You look in his eyes and he holds your gaze for a few agonizing moments, his face unreadable, before he brings his gaze to your temple. You don't realize you've been holding your breath until you release a hiss at him gently examining the forming bruise on your temple. "Dang, mama, you hit your head pretty hard. I wasn't that repulsive to look at, was I?" he whispers boldly, his breath warm on your face. You roll your eyes. "No, Elvis. You were practically naked," you respond and he quirks his eyebrow. "No? So you liked lookin' at me undressin'?" he whispers, leaning closer and gently kisses your temple where you hit your head. A sudden surge runs through you, both at his words and his lips. You rationalize his words as him just messing around with you, just being his silly self. "Oh so you're a funny guy now aren't you?" you whisper back, resisting the sudden urge to pull him back to you as he pulls away.

"Ain't nothing funny 'bout it, darlin'" he breathes, although you can see the smirk playing on his lips. You resist the urge to roll your eyes again as you scoot over slightly, putting some room between the two of you. The room is suddenly becoming way too warm. "Anyway...I was coming to ask if you can help me pick out an outfit for tonight. I can't decide on what to wear," you ask, making sure to give him your best puppy dog look. You had no way of knowing that the look you're giving him would make him do absolutely anything you asked him to. He would get on his knees and beg for anything you wanted to give him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat before pushing his feelings away. "Of course I will."

"Okay, this is one of the last ones," you call from the bathroom connected to one of the guest rooms he lets you stay in. You adjust the top portion, the breast part being halter top style, making your boobs look breathtaking but not too exposed. But it definitely is the most revealing one so far. "Let's see it, sweet heart," Elvis calls. You fix your hair one last time, suddenly nervous for him to look as you open the door into the bedroom. You find Elvis lying on his stomach playing with the rings on his fingers absentmindedly. It forms a knot in your stomach at the sight. When he brings his eyes up to look at your dress, you nearly melt, suddenly petrified.

"Oh...," he breathes, his eyes wandering up the length of your body, suddenly stopping at your breasts. He tries not to look too long, but he can't help it. His eyes are glued to your chest, and he feels a sudden tent form in his pants. He quickly looks away, slightly embarrassed that just looking at you can get him so worked up. "That one looks really good," he manages to get out, averting his eyes. You notice him looking a little too long at your chest, and suddenly wonder if it's too much. For someone who only sees you as a friend, he was looking for quite some time. "You don't think it's too...exposing?" you mumble the last part, suddenly bashful. "I think it's prefect, you look beautiful," he says unexpectedly. This makes you blush harshly.

As your family starts to arrive, you greet your mother and father, hugging them tightly. Then Elvis comes to greet them, kissing your mother's cheek and shaking your father's hand. Then suddenly, your father pulls Elvis to him, whispering something in his ear. You can tell by the way Elvis stiffens that what your father said made him nervous. Elvis responds with a cordial "Yes sir," making you quirk your eyebrow at your dad, but deciding to let it go as other family members arrive.

You and Elvis sit beside each other as you usually do, and he seems a little more on edge since speaking with your dad. As everyone starts eating, you lean over to him. "What's wrong? What did my dad say to you?" you whisper in his ear, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Oh, don't worry about it sweet heart. It was nothin'." You aren't convinced but you don't push as you turn your attention back to your meal.

The conversation naturally goes to Elvis and his big achievements recently and you move your hand to his thigh before giving it a squeeze, an informal way of telling him you're proud of him. He smiles over at you and does the same thing, bringing his hand to your exposed thigh. You suck in a breath at feeling of his hand on your bare thigh, and he glances over at you. Without warning, he slowing starts bringing his hand up your dress, his control faltering. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you rush to grab his hand. "What are you doing?" you hiss, leaning over to his ear. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks genuinely, looking in your eyes to gauge any uncomfortability. Your mind is suddenly in overdrive. Of course you don't want him to stop, but, one, you two are just friends and two, you guy's are surrounded by your families.

You blush as you shake your head, despite yourself. He then leans forward towards you again. "You're just gonna have to keep quiet, honey," he whispers, making you blush furiously. He then inches his fingers forward, slipping them underneath your already wet panties as he takes a drink of his wine. He chokes slightly as he feels how wet you already are, wasting no time rubbing your clit in soft circles.

You have to bite your lip to stop from whimpering as you adjust in your sitting position, giving him more access. He groans slightly at your actions, disguising it with a cough. "Elvis, boobie, why don't you tell (y/n)'s father about that Hollywood movie you're gonna be in," Gladys chimes, ever the proud mother. Elvis smiles as he turns his attention to your father, telling him about the recent movie he's been cast in. Again without warning, he quickly swipes over your hole to see if you're wet enough before plunging his index finger inside of you. You gasp out at this, playing it off as something Elvis said about the new movie, and a knowing smirk forms on his lips at your sound.

You see your mom's eyes land on you, a questioning look on her face, your reaction a little too loud to be formal. Your face suddenly flushes as you shove his hand off of you. He smirks at you again before suddenly bringing his finger to his mouth, sucking your juices off of it. Your mouth nearly hangs open at the sight, becoming more flustered than ever. He leans toward you once more. "Taste's so good."

After everyone starts leaving, exchanging Merry Christmas' to each other, you practically run to the guest bedroom after grabbing Elvis by the arm. He bites his lip at how rough you're being with him. Once inside the room, you practically slam the door turning to face him, that stupid grin returned to his face. "What the hell was that?" you yell out, exhasperated by your current sexual frustration. He shrugs his shoulders, giving you puppy dog eyes. "Don't you look at me like that, Elvis! We're friends, we- you don't like me like that! Why would you play with my feelings that way?" you yell, trying to catch your breath. He suddenly backtracks at seeing how upset you are. "Hey sweet heart, I-I didn't mean to upset ya'. I just- damn it, how do you not know how much I want you?!" You stop in your tracks. "What?" you breathe, stunned. "A-And I'm sorry I touched ya' like that, I don't know what the hell I was thinkin'. B-but, you liked it, didn't you?" You suddenly become angry at his words. "So you only want to get in my pants?" "W-What? No! I just- you were touchin' on me and I- I don't know, I got ahead of myself," he groans, now suddenly embarrassed. "I-I didn't mean to play with your feelins' none. I just,- god damn it, I like you (y/n)...a lot."

It takes you a moment to process what he's telling you. He likes you? You look back at him and his cheeks are beet red with embarrassment. His eyes glued to the ground. You suddenly bite the inside of your cheek, turned on despite yourself. And also embarrassed that it took you so long to realize he had feelings for you. Not knowing what to say, you close the gap between you two as you bring your lips to his. He groans at the welcome intrusion, pulling you close to him. "Sit on the bed. Take your pants off," you mumble and his eyes widen in surprise. That damn smirk comes back to his face. "I really got you worked up, didn't I?" he mutters, coming close, his voice laced with lust at your sudden change in tone. He's about to cup your face in his hands when you push him away. "Elvis, sit on the damn bed."

After discarding his pants he sits on the bed, anticipation coursing through him. You move to kneel down in front of him, spreading his legs for easier access. "Honey, you don't hafta do this. Let me take care a' you," he whines, trying to pull you up to him. You push his hands away hastily. "Elvis, just be a good boy and let me do what I want," you breathe, stunned by your own words. He seems to be too as he's left speechless, a small whine escaping his throat.

You go to pull down his boxers and he helps you, kicking them off, letting them rest by his feet. You gasp at how hard he already is, and secretly hope this isn't the only time you get to see him like this. You bring your mouth to his erection, trailing your tongue along his slit as you bring his tip into your mouth. He hisses at this as his hands come to your head. You smack them away, causing a whine to escape his mouth. "Baby," he groans, suddenly frustrated. "Let me touch you." You suddenly pull off of him, causing a sigh to fall from his lips. "You only touch me when I say you can. Got it? Now relax, honey. Let me make you feel good," you order, causing him to roll his eyes as he obeys.

You bring your attention back to his dick as you slowly take him in your mouth, inch by inch. He groans loudly as he leans on his elbows on the mattress, looking down at you. "sweet heart," he drawls, gripping onto the bed sheets as you take as much of him as you can, bringing your hand to stroke what you couldn't fit in you mouth. He quickly becomes a moaning mess underneath you as you swirl your tongue around the tip of him, his head thrown back against the bed. "Shit, (y/n), stop, I'm not gonna last, baby," he groans, pulling you off him. You allow him to as you trail kisses up his chest and to his face.

You two just look at each other for what seems like hours before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "My pretty girl," he whispers, looking in your eyes. This is enough for you to connect your lips to his, making him sigh at the contact. He pulls you to straddle his waist as he rests his hands on your hips. You are quick to remove your panties as he gently pulls your dress off, tossing it on the floor. You lean up into him, wanting to feel his body on yours and he responds, bringing his lips to your body. Your neck, your collarbone. He makes his way to your chest and cups your exposed breasts in his hands. "You're so beautiful. So fuckin' pretty," his groans as he suddenly grinds his hips up to you. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips as you imitate the action, bringing your pelvis down on his. "Shit," he breathes out, gripping your hips tightly. "Do you have a condom?" you question, breathless. "Yeah," he gasps out, reaching over to his bedside table, grabbing one hastily out of the drawer. He rips it open with his teeth and rolls it on his erection. You bit your lip as you watch him, now dripping with want. "(y/n), you know we don't have t-" he starts but you interrupt him. "I want to, E. I really want to." he swallows harshly at this. "Fuck, me too."

You waist no time lining him up at your entrance before slowly sinking down on him, causing him to gasp out as his grip on your waist tightens even more. "Goddamn," he grunts as he enters you fully, leaning his head back against the pillows. You press your hands on his chest for leverage as you suddenly start taking him at a fast pace, needing as much of him as he can give you. A low moan escapes your lips as you set a steady pace, his hands coming to cup your breasts. "Fuck, mama," he grunts. You look down at him and he is completely blissed out, his mouth hanging open and his eyes drooping as he focuses on massaging your sensitive nubs. "Shit, E," you whine, quickening your pace. Suddenly, he brings his hands to your hips, fucking up into you, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

After a few minutes of you both giving your all into each other, you can feel a familiar knot form in your stomach. Your hips falter slightly and Elvis notices, picking up the pace so he can get there with you. "It's okay, go on and cum for me," he breathes, bringing his hand to your clit, rubbing harshly. With one final call of his name, you are clenching around him, your orgasm coming at you full force. He's right behind you as he shouts softly, emptying himself into the condom.

"Are you alright?" he gasps up at you, smoothing your hair out of your face. You just nod at this, not knowing how to respond. "Are you?" you asks in return. He chuckles as he gives your hips a squeeze. "Yeah, honey, I'm fantastic". You roll your eyes at this as you pull yourself off of him, turning away from him. He discards the condom, pulling a blanket on top of the both of you as he wraps his arm around your waist. You both just lay there for a moment before he suddenly says "You wanna know what your dad said to me?" Do you want to know? You decide it's best if you did as you tell him yes and wait for his response. "He told me to not fool around with you if I wasn't plannin' on makin' you my girl. So I figure I would fool around with you and then ask you if you would...be my girl?" At this you are speechless. He's asking you to be his girlfriend? "Honey, did ya' hear me?" he questions after a few moments of you not responding. Suddenly, you turn to face him, cupping his face in your hand. "Of course I'll be your girl," you whisper, bringing his lips down to meet yours.

Masterlist

Tag List: @looloolily @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @flowersofcement @goldobsessionsworld @father-of-2cats @horrorgirl4life @dark-raven031

[saiyanmazen]

Someone has to take initiative

I want to thank everyone who took the time to read Sneak Attack yesterday. The response was overwhelming and I loved it. So thank you.

Today's ficlet for the D&D event by @vegebulocracy is quite different. The prompts used for this ficlet are initiative and spellcasting (sort of), and the whole thing is pretty cracky.

It can also be found here on AO3.

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

Panchy had tried to let them figure it out for themselves, she really had. She'd been called meddlesome in the past and was now proving to others that she wasn't. Her involvement in her daughters' lives was perfectly normal for that of a loving mother.

When she arranged a seemingly accidental meeting between Tights and a gorgeous young man which led to a long-lasting relationship, it had merely been in her oldest daughter's best interest. After all, it had worked so well the first time she'd done it until Tights had broken up with him. Who could blame Panchy for wanting to try it again?

It was also for Bulma’s beneficence that her mother talked to Yamcha about his relationship with Bulma going nowhere and urged him to propose, or the time she showed him baby pictures of Bulma to encourage that natural protective instinct in him and his hidden longing to have children.

But neither of her daughters were happy when they learned of these small incidents. Perhaps it even contributed a little to Tights’ decision to move out. And it might have made Bulma more opposed to marriage and children than she had already been.

Therefore, when Panchy saw the undeniable mutual attraction between Bulma and Vegeta, she did nothing to interfere. She would not meddle again. Not even when her youngest daughter broke up with Yamcha for good, leaving nothing to stop her from pursuing the handsome alien who walked around shirtless all hours of the day.

It didn't escape Panchy's notice that he and Bulma would make exceptionally beautiful grandchildren. If they got together, she would surely soon become a grandmother. A strong man like Vegeta had to be very virile. She might have switched out Bulma’s birth control and removed all condoms in the house to speed things along, just in case.

But other than that, she decided to let Bulma and Vegeta work things out for themselves. Panchy knew her daughter well enough; she couldn't resist a muscular bad boy for long. And there was no denying Vegeta’s interest in Bulma’s beautiful body the way his gaze followed her when she left a room.

Yet, no matter how thick the sexual tension was between them when they fought day in and day out, none of them actually took the initiative to do something to release the tension.

Bulma wasn't getting younger; nor was Panchy. If she wanted to have a lot of time with her grandchildren, she needed to have some soon. It was really quite selfish of her daughters to make her wait so long.

There really wasn't any harm in hurrying things along. It was inevitable, after all. And no one would know her involvement; she'd make sure of that.

The worst was having to wait nearly a whole year to gather the Dragon Balls. But finding and gathering them turned out to be easy. On the pretense of wanting to fix one of her older husband's many ailments, she convinced the sweet boy, Gohan, to find them for her. She swore him to secrecy, telling him that the dear Dr. Briefs didn't want to use the balls for such things and that no one but Gohan could be trusted to keep the secret.

The boy, so fond of the old scientist, eagerly took the dragon radar that Panchy had found in one of Bulma’s drawers and came back with all the magical balls. His eyes shimmered with pure joy when she rewarded him with her famous chocolate chip cookies.

Oh, she hoped her future grandchild would appreciate her cooking just as much. With Vegeta as the father, there would be a good chance of that.

She went to a spa resort near North City to perform the ritual. It wouldn't do if anyone saw the Dragon appear, so she rented a large gym hall with enough room for the giant entity. While she hadn't done it before, she had seen the ritual performed quite a few times and it didn't take long before the Great Dragon soared in the air in front of her and asked her to state her wish.

“I wish for Bulma and Vegeta to conceive a child, so I will finally have a grandchild,” she said with a gentle smile, then added as an afterthought, “one without a widow's peak. And taller than its parents too.”

The Dragon looked back and forth as though he wasn't sure about what she was asking him. Surely, this simple request was within his capabilities!

“Vegeta? Prince Vegeta?” The Dragon questioned incredulously. “Are you certain?”

“Of course I am,” her pearly whites twinkled as she beamed at him, “It's not too much trouble for a big, powerful being such as yourself, is it?”

It sounded like the Dragon mumbled something about it not being him that was in trouble, but he cleared his throat and said what she wanted to hear: “Your wish has been granted.”

The Dragon disappeared and the balls turned to stone. She hurried to the doors to the outside and opened them to allow the stones to scatter.

She then got the full spa treatment, making sure to look her best for her return. After all, she didn't want to wake any suspension by coming back without looking splendid.

But it didn't matter because no one was there when she returned to her home. Her darling hubby was tinkering in his lab as usual, having barely noticed that she'd been gone, that silly man. However, Bulma was nowhere to be found and the gravity thingy Vegeta spent all his time in was silent.

Then Panchy noticed the broken counter in the kitchen and the discarded clothes on the stairs leading to Bulma’s room. It told her all she needed to know.

That sweet Dragon sure worked fast.

[practically-an-x-man]

Whatever Keeps You Around (Rick Flag x Eris)

Summary: Based on this prompt, Eris runs into an immortal surprise in a very mundane place. (Title from First Time by Hozier)

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Mild jealousy, mild possessive themes, some mentions of violence.

____

"Go see if they have any bread you like, hon."

Eris nodded, ducking past him and half-jogging up to the shelf of artisanal bread in the corner of the store. This was why he'd picked this store, even though it was small and pricey and overly-organic: Eris claimed it was the only place in New Orleans that made bread the right way, whatever they in their mind deemed the right way.

All Rick knew was that it cost about eight dollars a pop and was loaded with spices he couldn't identify, and that Eris could go through three loaves a week if he let them. Usually he did. The one perk to working for Amanda Waller was the paycheck, and that allowed him at least enough wiggle room to buy the right kind of bread.

She jogged back up to him, two loaves wrapped in paper in her arms, just as Rick had finished thanking the deli clerk for his cold cuts and cheeses. Eris tucked the bread into the shopping cart almost delicately and promptly plucked the deli bags from his hands to inspect his selections.

"Oven-roasted turkey? Not the herb kind?"

"Outta stock. I've got thyme and stuff back at the house if it really bothers you," Rick replied, "What kind of bread did you pick out?"

"Honey-rosemary and something they call rustic medley," Eris muttered, "I'll be the judge of that."

"Sounds pretty good," he agreed, "Maybe we can make butter to go with it."

Eris tilted his head, something Rick stupidly misinterpreted as a lack of understanding.

"I saw it online, you just put heavy cream and a little salt in a mason jar, shake it u-"

"I'd be willing to bet I'm more familiar with making butter than you are, Flag." Eris cut him off, sharp as always, "But why?"

"I dunno. Seems like fun."

"You have a real strange idea of fun. And this is coming from someone who lived through tapestry being the popular hobby." they jeered, but tossed a carton of heavy cream into the cart as they passed the dairy case. Rick tried to hide his smile. If anyone was the definition of 'actions speak louder than words', it was Eris.

He stayed close to Rick's side as they wandered the store, occasionally tossing things into the cart on what looked like pure whim. Cans of tomato soup, the ones Rick remembered mentioning were his favorite because they reminded him of his childhood, made their way in alongside pretzels and peanut butter and bars of high-cacao baking chocolate. It was far too bitter for his tastes, at least in anything other than baked goods, but Eris could snack on it like a Hershey bar. She liked it for the same reason she liked the artisanal bread, he thought. Nostalgia, or the closest thing to nostalgia they could find.

"Lasagna tonight? Or should we just find something to stick in the oven?" Rick asked, frowning at the prices of the pasta boxes on the shelves. Eris was back at his side in a moment, moving so quickly and silently that he would have jumped if he wasn't used to it.

"Hm. Neither. Make your pot pie." he decided, and Rick felt him lean in against his side, "I have a taste for it."

His mother's recipe, the one he'd tried so hard to get right after her death, now lived on as a favorite in the mind of a centuries-old metahuman.

That one made him feel good.

He knew Eris wasn't one for public affection, but he still couldn't resist wrapping his arm around their shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of their head. He pulled back quickly, before Eris could wriggle away or complain about looking soft, and waved a hand at the produce aisle they'd left in their wake.

"Go grab me a bag of baby carrots and some green beans, then," he said, then paused and corrected, "In a bag. Not just loose green beans."

"I know that, smartass." Eris huffed, rolling her eyes at him as she walked away. Rick suppressed a chuckle.

There was someone else in the produce aisle, apparently trying to decide between a starfruit and a cherimoya. They were half a head taller than Eris, with wavy brown hair halfway down their back and a flowing blue sundress swishing around their knees.

Rick didn't pay them much mind, and was about to turn and grab a can of biscuits when Eris froze in his tracks.

"Julius?"

The taller figure whipped around so fast it must have given them whiplash, and their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Rick could see, even from afar, that their features had the same strangely archaic look as Eris' own, though perhaps a continent and a few centuries apart.

"Oh my- Eris?" they stammered, then gestured vaguely at themself, "And it's- er, Wisteria now. Wisty."

"Wisty." Eris repeated, as if testing out the name, "You're... very not dead, for someone three hundred years old."

"Made a deal with a witch a while back. And you're... very tame for how I remember you."

That made a grin flash across Eris' face, quick and sharp and promising only dark things.

"Try me."

But Wisty didn't flinch. She just smiled right back, though this one was nostalgic, almost soft.

The thought struck Rick like a bolt of lightning.

Eris had a type.

Underneath the flowing fabric of her dress, Wisty had to be at least as tall as Rick himself was, and just as stacked with muscle. Old scars littered what bare skin was visible around her clothing, like she'd been a fighter in a past life- or perhaps still was. And she knew not to flinch at those shark-smiles Eris threw at her. Just like Rick did.

The thought made something strange bubble up inside him. He wasn't sure he liked it. As strange and twisted as Eris' affections could be, he'd never before had competition for those affections. It was actually one of the best things about being with them, knowing they'd always drift back to him at the end of all the chaos.

It wasn't Wisteria's arrival alone that had him so tense. What really got him was the set of Eris' posture as he spoke to her: leaned back slightly on his heels, shoulders loose, head tilted ever-so-slightly in curiosity. Casual. Relaxed. The only time he'd ever seen Eris truly relaxed was when they were alone with him.

"We should catch back up." Wisty decided, a smile slowly growing on her face, "Go... spar like the old times or something. I'm a lot tougher than I used to be."

"I don't doubt it." Eris said, their spine automatically straightening at the promise of a good challenge.

He deserved this, Rick thought. This was some sort of cosmic payback for those two years he spent pushing her aside in favor of June, for snapping at all the times they suggested making him into a metahuman like them - it was all to keep him safe, to keep him around.

Well, here was someone who'd stuck around. Who'd played the long game, the centuries-long game, the way Rick was always so afraid to commit to. Who could hold their own against Eris, when she still had to pull her punches against him.

"What do you think? My lance and your spear, or hand-to-hand?" Wisty asked, playfully throwing up her fists with a broad grin. Eris returned the gesture, bouncing on his toes a little.

It was like he'd forgotten Rick was there, just ten feet back. And even as much as he wanted to call out, to remind them... he couldn't move. All he could do was watch it all unravel before him, the can of biscuits still held tight in one hand. Suddenly his mom's old recipe didn't seem to matter much.

"It'll be like before. You and me," Wisty said, "The old war god and the king's footsoldier."

Then there was a different kind of tension in Eris' posture. The shift was sudden, her chin lifted and her shoulders drawn back, all joviality transformed into something more guarded.

"I'm with someone." he said, each word crisply spaced, and brushed past Wisty with smooth, disciplined steps. They grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a handful of green beans into it, pausing only to pluck a few wrinkled and undesirable vegetables from the lot and toss them back. Wisteria turned, fixing them with a tilted expression.

"You told me you wouldn't love another. You told me love was too painful. You told me... that I was the last one."

Eris snatched a bag of baby carrots, holding them tight in her hand as she turned.

"I was wrong." they said, chin set and eyes blazing, "And if you do a damn thing to him, if you hurt him thinking that'll bring me back to you, I'll kill you where you stand. And I will feel no remorse."

With that, he stormed his way back to Rick and tossed the vegetables into the shopping cart.

"You were staring." they muttered, taking the can of biscuits from his hand and dropping it into the cart alongside the rest of the groceries. Then, to his surprise, they folded their fingers into his own. For Eris, that was the equivalent of a public strip tease. Rick gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, I know. Couldn't help it." he admitted, knowing better than to try and duck around it, "First time I've ever seen one of your old friends. Didn't realize there was anyone else... like me."

"She wasn't like you." Eris huffed, ducking around his arm to give the cart a brisk shove, "Nobody's like you."

"It's alright if she was." Rick argued, "I know I'm not the only person you've loved, doll. That's okay."

Eris opened his mouth to respond, then reconsidered and shook his head. It must've been a lot to explain, or something they couldn't bear to speak in such public company. Their posture was still tense, shoulders stony, and they didn't spare so much as a single glance back at the produce aisle.

"Nobody's like you." she just repeated, even more set and sullen. Rick decided there were two ways he could take that: a sign that this love was real, or a sign that the pattern would end up repeating itself in a few years. He decided to take it as the former. The latter, true as it might be, felt far too pessimistic.

"Rome!" a voice called from behind them, and finally Eris turned. Wisteria had caught up, and fire a glance between the two of them. Rick met her eyes calmly, and found something strange swimming there. She returned her gaze to Eris, unflinching. "A hundred years. Rome. Then we'll have our fight."

Rick could hear the other half of her words: because he won't be around by then. Maybe he should have been offended by the implications. He didn't bother. He'd always known there would be someone after him. He didn't expect to meet that someone, but... this was life with Eris. He'd learned to get used to things like this.

"Fine." Eris agreed, though the firm look never left her eyes, "I will meet you on the steps of the Colosseum in one hundred years exactly. We will have our fight."

Their grip tightened on his hand unexpectedly, right on the verge of being painful. Wisteria's eyes fell straight to it, and she frowned a little. Eris must not have been any more affectionate in their prior life.

"But you will get no love from me then." they concluded, "They will bury my heart when they bury him."

Rick saw hurt bloom across Wisty's face, a shocked and helpless sort of pain, but Eris just spun and gave the cart another brutal shove towards the checkout lanes. Rick found himself pausing an extra moment, looking into Wisty's shockingly crestfallen eyes and debating an apology.

In the end, he just shut his mouth and trailed after Eris, leaving Wisty where she stood. He had a sense that speaking to her would only make things worse. It was better just for him to be, in her mind, some speechless nameless thing at Eris' heels. It was probably safer for the both of them.

He caught up to Eris just shy of the checkout lanes, right as they set a rotisserie chicken in the front basket of the cart. She glanced up at him as he approached and offered him something like a smile. It was a little pointed, a little irritated, but he didn't mind that too much.

"You're mine." she muttered, possessive like a wolf to its mate, "Until they put you in the ground, you're mine."

"I love you too, wartime."

[cloudyzues]

Prompt: curse

@addicted-to-wolfstar @wolfstarmicrofic

word count: 436

Remus Lupin was feeling particularly down that evening. He had been spending most of his time in the Hogwarts library, trying to find a cure for his lycanthropy. But no matter how much he searched, he couldn't find anything that would make his life easier. It seemed that he was doomed to live as a werewolf forever.

As he was walking back to Gryffindor Tower, he heard someone call out his name. He turned around to see Sirius Black, his best friend and secret crush, running towards him.

"Remus, wait up!" Sirius said, catching up to him. "I was hoping to catch you before you got back to the tower."

"What's up, Sirius?" Remus asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had long ago resigned himself to the fact that Sirius would never see him as anything more than a friend.

"I was hoping you would come with me," Sirius said, taking Remus' hand. "I have something I want to show you."

Feeling a sudden rush of excitement, Remus allowed himself to be led by Sirius to an empty classroom. Inside, he saw a strange object that looked like a small crystal.

"What is it?" Remus asked, intrigued.

"It's a cursed object," Sirius said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "One of my cousins stole it from the Ministry. Apparently, if you touch it, you get cursed with the desire to kiss the first person you see."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "That's a pretty silly curse."

"Maybe, but it'll be fun," Sirius said, picking up the crystal. "Are you ready?"

Remus hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Sirius touched the crystal to Remus' hand, and immediately, Remus felt a strange sensation wash over him. He looked up at Sirius, and for a moment, he saw him in a different light. Suddenly, all he wanted was to kiss him.

As Remus stared into Sirius' eyes, he couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in and captured Sirius' lips in a passionate kiss. It was like fireworks exploding inside him, and he felt the intensity of his feelings for Sirius in every fiber of his being. Sirius responded eagerly, and their kiss deepened until they had to break apart, gasping for breath.

As they pulled away from the kiss, Remus couldn't help but smile at Sirius. He had never felt happier or more alive. "Sirius," he whispered, "I never want to let you go."

Sirius chuckled. "You don't have to, Remus. I'm never leaving you." He leaned in and kissed Remus once again, feeling the curse lifting and the weight of his past life lifting with it. They stayed in each other's arms, lost in the moment, knowing that they had each other to face any challenge that came their way.

[femmmie]

OMG OMG SO, first of all: Hi! Love your writting! Second of all, I would love to see more single dad Ian pleaseee pleasee!! Something sweet and a lot of flufff, and if you could make it like, grumpy and scary outside, cute and hopelessy in love with his kid inside the house could be the best thing.

I'm so happy you enjoy my writing, it means so much! Thank you for this cute prompt, I'm doing my best to make it to your liking ~💖

Swift

genre: angst, fluff

topics: single parent, reconnection w best friend

words: 1.557

Ian hid it well - the bags under his eyes, the general closed off-ness, people blamed it on Anthony leaving and Defy collapsing. The truth was, Ian was very happy with his life. Although it was very much split in two: his work life and his family life. Ian had a kid: he was a father. A single dad even.

Yes, a short-lived fling with a Hollywood-heiress had resulted in a pregnancy, no, she didn't want the kid and yes, he had begged her to keep it, he would take good care of it he promised. And when she personally 'delivered' the baby to his doorstep, she broke his heart and made him the happiest man alive, all at once.

Little Swift (Ian didn't get to choose the name) had quite the attitude as a baby, always hungry, throw-uppy and poopy at the same time, driving Ian up the wall sometimes. But when he saw his baby sleep, he melted all over again, remembering how he loved his little son.

At the office he maintained a distance, he didn't want to tell them, he had this one thing going for him, and it felt sacred. Not that there was anyone he would want to talk to anyway. Not that they weren't 'nice', because they were. And they worked hard. And they put their all into Smosh, making it survive it's toughest times yet. Ian was grateful to them. But he couldn't get close to them. His closest connection was m.i.a. and would probably never come back.

Ian did want to tell Anthony. To share with him his most joyful of feelings. But he didn't want Anthony to visit him because he 'had to'. Maybe that backfired because any time his former best friend did reach out, Ian would react robotically, not knowing how to respond better anyway.

Years passed.

"Daddy!" Swift was already four years old and a little menace, and a little angel at the same time. "Another story!"

"Alright," Ian sighed. "Which one do you want to hear now?"

"The one about the unicorn."

"Okay." Ian picked a colorful book. They sat in Swift's room, already way past his bedtime but he wouldn't let his dad leave. Probably because he knew it was shooting week tomorrow and he'd have to say with his grandma.

"The little unicorn galloped over the rainbow," Ian began. "It knew it would see its friends on the other side. There they were! Little rabbit, little fox and little baby dragon. What do you want to do today? Play play play! And that they did, and that they did."

"Another story!"

"Swift, you really have to sleep now."

"Please?"

Ian could never resist for long.

"Alright. But it's a story I invented myself. Wanna hear it?"

"Can it be about a unicorn, and a fox, and a-"

"No, this is a story about two best friends."

"Oh, okay."

Ian lay down on the ground next to his son's bed. His arms behind his head.

"Once upon a time, two guys met each other and they knew they would be best friends for the rest of their lives."

"Did they love each other?"

"Yeah, I guess they did. They had so much fun together, and everyone liked their games. But because it got so crowded, the best friends couldn't find each other anymore."

Ian gouged whether Swift was asleep yet. But his eyes were wide open.

"So they each made new friends and didn't talk or play with each other, but you know what, Swift? That didn't matter. Because when you have a best friend, that's forever. And they both knew that if they would find each other again, they'd just continue where they left off where they were, when they last saw each other."

"I don't like this story, tell another one."

"No Swift, you really have to sleep." Ian sat up and wanted to leave. But Swift jumped out of his bed - to Ian's distress - and clung to his leg.

"Stay."

Ian couldn't say no to that. He got a few blankets and lay down on the ground in his son's room. He quickly dozed off, even though it was only 8 p.m.

~

Ian and Anthony looked at each other. This first time hanging out since.. 5 years? Felt a bit awkward but, also nice. Their friends kept to themselves a bit, so they had a chance to talk semi-privately. Ian had made sure to wear his least crappy jeans and a classic light blue Charlie the drunk guinea pig t-shirt. Anthony wore all black, plus some necklaces, bracelets and rings. He had gotten tattoos and looked so overwhelmingly cool, Ian had kind of forgotten how beautiful his friend was.

"So, how's your life?"

"I'm good! Thank you. Haha yeah, I have a cute girlfriend, the channel's going well.. I have a dog, oh! You would love him."

"Oh, really? That's so nice man."

"Yeah, haha. Umm, I'm so glad to talk to you. How are you? How are you, Smosh is going strong as always of course, like I've been keeping up! But how are you otherwise?"

"Uhh, oh, that's great man. I'm good, thanks."

"Ian.. please, after all this time, let's talk, please. Don't still shut me out?"

It was so difficult for Ian to do this 'talk about your feelings' stuff. But he felt like he had to. So, forcing himself, he looked Anthony directly in his eyes. And he was taken aback, seeing the earnestness there, the longing for connection, genuine openness that hadn't been there before.

"No, sorry. I want to let you in."

"I would like that," Anthony said. He looked at Ian with a hunger. Like he wanted to breathe in his best friend, as the fresh smell of grass and flowers, after having stayed inside for years.

Ian broke eye contact, but said: "Come over this Saturday. It's will be really special to me if you come over.."

"Okay! Yeah totally, I'll be there! I'm so glad we met again today, Ian. I'm so down to hang out." Anthony smiled apologetically. Like he wanted to say so much more. Ian went in for a hug. Anthony held him tightly for a moment. "See you soon, buddy."

~

Saturday morning.

"Swift, come here please?"

"Yes dad!"

"Do you remember the story of the two best friends?"

Swift nodded.

"Well, my best friend is coming over today. It's pretty special! We're going to say hi to him for the first time!"

"What's his name?"

"Anthony."

"Okay! Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I draw?"

"Sure you can, go to the table, the drawing stuff is still on there."

Ian paced up and down his apartment. How would Anthony react? Would they really reconnect again? He didn't have time to collect any courage because the doorbell rang.

"Dad!! Your best friend is here!"

"Yes! I'll answer the door."

Ian opened the door.

"Anthony, before you go in.. I have to tell you something. I, well, I have a son."

Anthony's eyebrows shot up underneath his curls. "You have a... son?"

"Yeah, his name is Swift, he's 4 years old. There's no mom in the picture though."

Anthony looked at Ian with wide eyes. Eyes that started to water. "Dude... congratulations..." His voice trailed away. He went in to hug Ian again. He whispered: "Ian, I'm so sorry, I should have been here for you.."

"Daddy, my drawing is finished. Can I give it to your best friend?"

"Sure, here he is," Ian said, breaking up the hug. Anthony seemed like he didn't want to let go at all. They turned to Swift and looked at the drawing. It was colorful scribbles.

"Wow, is this for me?"

Swift nodded with a smile.

"Thank you so much, Swift. I'm so happy to meet you. My name is Anthony."

"Yes, you're dad's best friend. I'm happy you have found him again."

Anthony laughed, but tears fell down.

"Want some tea or something? A beer maybe?"

"Water is fine.."

Swift was staring at Anthony. It made Anthony feel awkward and like he had to act entertaining.

"So, what's your favorite color?" He figured a kid would like that kind of question. To his relief, he was right.

"I like blue, but I also like indigo, Bobby likes green but I don't like green."

"Oh, I see. I like black."

"Did you paint black on yourself?"

"Oh, haha, well, these are tattoos."

Swift picked up some markers and started to draw on his own hand.

"Oh, Swift I don't know if your dad will approve of that.."

"Shall I draw on your hand?"

"Uhh, okay."

Swift started to draw on Anthony's tatooed hands. Ian walked back into the room and smiled at the situation.

"Good way to redirect his chaotic tendencies."

"Thanks, man. Your son, he's incredible. Such a good kid."

"Anthony?"

Ian looked earnestly at his best friend.

"Will you come over more often? We can just hang out. Doesn't have to be about work at all. I even prefer that. We can do fun things with Swift, go to the park, and you can be my wingman to score some m-i-l-f-s."

"Ohh yeah, totally," Anthony said, still recovering from the shock of knowing his best friend was a dad.

"Ian, I... this is amazing. I'm so grateful and thankful, that you trust me and let me meet this really special young man."

Swift was still drawing.

[betrayedbycinnamon]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love~

Well, they're all my babies, so I'll change it up a bit from the last favorites I picked (i mean, let's be real, I don't remember what I've picked in the past) :)

(@carcrash429 you gave me the same ask! :D )

We Can't Fake This my sex-pollen fic that involved a ton of research psuedo-science-theory building for the how's and why's the "pollen" works. I'm pretty proud of that part. I'm hoping more people adopt it tbh.

Duim vashou: Holding Thumbs Tightly (Wishing for Luck) is such a soft re-read, and someone commented: "nothing hits like the fear when i read a small town near the park bc i live in one of the small towns around denali. Full body shudder! Sweet fic though" which just lives with me. Also, as far as I can guess they only read it because of that tag

Watch out! I had fun with metaphorical imagery in this one; it didn't get a lot of traffic (gen, what can you do) but I thought it was damn good.

Lift me up reverse fanart, I saw art (linked in the fic) and it inspired this

In stitches the 'self-stitches' prompt where Clint utterly fails to stitch himself up, because I know that trope is a pet peeve for some people so I couldn't resist. It's more cute than whumpy, because that's been my theme for this whump-event.

[thefuzzzz]

Jasico Bingo Challenge #23!!

Prompt: Love Letter

Jason had just given Nico a long hug goodbye before his quest. Nico tried to convince him that the quest wasn't dangerous. He said it would be simple, and he'd be back at camp soon. However, the terrified look behind his eyes said something different. 

Jason changed out of his camp shirt and into a hoodie before turning to lay in bed. His gaze was captured by a piece of paper on his nightstand, one he was sure he hadn't left there.

He plucked it off the table and unfolded it, eyes falling on neat handwriting he only hardly recognized from its elegant cursive. It was from Nico.

"Jason, I'm sorry I'm telling you this in a letter, but fear restrains me. It's the night before my quest and I'm the most scared I've ever been in my life. Tartarus wasn't as scary as this. The reason I'm so afraid is because you've made my life worth living. You make me want to love and be loved. Believe me, I do love you. I'm in love with you. I didn't notice at first, I thought I only saw you as a friend. But, as the days dragged on and we were together more and more, I realized just how fond I was.  If you don't feel the same, that's perfectly fine and we can live our lives like this never happened. Still, if this quest does go how I think it will, I might not get to move on. I had to tell you before I couldn't. I needed you to know how I felt. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Always yours, Nico"

Jason felt his eyes well with tears. He rarely cried, but there were so many thoughts running through his head at once that he was pretty sure his head might explode. He loved Nico too, of course he did. He cared for Nico more than anyone in his life.

Jason crawled into bed, and for the first time in years, he prayed to the gods that this quest would go well. He couldn't stand to live without Nico, especially now that he knew how he really felt. 

The next few days were hell. Jason did nothing but reread the letter, fight back tears, and worry. 

People started to notice he'd stopped showing up to meals and the campfire. He even stopped training. For the past day, all he'd done was lay in his bed and hope for any sign that Nico was even alive.

The next day, Jason had caught word that Nico was back, but half dead and disappearing into shadow as they spoke.

Jason had never run so fast in his life. He practically flew to the infirmary, heart pounding in his chest and mind racing.

He ran inside, not bothering to tell the Apollo kids why he was there. He rushed into the back room, the one practically reserved for Nico at this point. Medics surrounded him, but Jason could hear Nico's familiar but weak voice.

Jason resisted the urge to shove the healers away and let his mouth pour out every thought he had about Nico in his head. 

However, when the Apollo kids cleared every word he's so perfectly acquired died on his tongue. Even when he was dying, Nico was the most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen. HE felt his eyes tear up again as Nico turned his head to him, smiling faintly.

Jason panicked. He needed Nico to know how he felt. He needed so badly for him to understand how he felt exactly the same. 

So, he pushed their lips together roughly. It was a quick kiss, fast enough to leave Nico bewildered and slow enough for them to settle into it near the end.

Jason pulled away, face red. He was sure Nico's would be too if he wasn't almost dead.

Then, without a word, Jason laughed and hit Nico's arm lightly, making sure not to actually hurt him.

"You unbelievable asshole," Jason said, still grinning. Nico laughed so hard it hurt, which wasn't hard to do right now. "We just kissed and now I'm an asshole?" "I'm so in love with you." "Get your story straight."

Jason laughed and pulled Nico into a hug. "Never ever do that again." Nico smiled softly as their lips connected again.

This is also on AO3:

My card:

[nokaru]

✨Muse/OC Song Association✨

!!original prompt list here!! by @.rainyprompts (nothing here ain't mine go check out op's blog)

Saw this muse playlist game earlier and I simply couldn't resist :) this is a mix of my muses (Obi, Torou) and my AnS OCs ^^

🎼 A song that reminds me of my muse’s vibes + 🎶 A song that reminds me of my muse’s backstory

Obi: Heirloom by Sleeping At Last it fits so well with my headcanon backstory for Obi esp the father and past parts. The melody is also so Obi coded :) Whenever I listen to this song I automatically think of Obi.

🥁 A battle song for my muse

Torou: People I Don't Like by UPSAHL how far can I stretch the meaning of a battle song we will never know. But this. This is Torou vibes when she's out and about breaking hearts and stealing other people's shit. I think she would listen to this song herself too.

🎭 A sad song for my muse

Tsu(-sensei): My Love is Sick by Madds Buckley once again a banger from Madds. Tsu lives in a miserable world of his own making and his unwillingness to let go of old habits won't save him.

🎉 A happy song for my muse

Torou: Dance the Night by Dua Lipa you just wish you were her 🫶‼️🔥🗣️💅

📣 A song for when my muse is upset or angry

Nokaru: DogBird by Madds Buckley it's more a mix of confusion and self sabotaging for her lmao my girl is dog coded and I will not let it go.

🎆 A song my muse would sing or dance to

Obi: California Gurls by Katy Perry and you know it's true he 100% would and he would sound just like the tiktok sing-along guy and he would kill it 🔥🔥 also the meme dance, yes the meme dance.

✨ A theme song for my muse

Nokaru: Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows the existential crisis and dread of falling behind along the cheery melody and boyish charm that Wallows have is exactly what vibe Nokaru is going for.

Emi: Are You Satisfied? by Marina money and success can't buy you happiness but Emi would like to differ.

Obi: Everywhere I Go by New Politics one among many Obi themed songs I have in my playlists but I find this one especially charming with that roughish rebel vibes. Early Obi coded.

🖤 A song for our muses’ ship

Torou & Umihebi: Come Over again by CRAWLERS toxic gfs never cease to amuse me. They can get together, break up and make up in this one song.