#i've got more fall writing prompts saved

[godricgryffinsnore]

Hi Della!

I've been going through and reading all your one-shots recently and I absolutely adore them, so I was wondering if you would mind writing one based on this prompt:

James Potter falling for a Hufflepuff he just keeps happening to 'run into' in the kitchens. Ice-cream kisses and quiet evenings <3

Strawberry Kisses and Stolen Spoons ♡ : A James Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : James Potter x fem!hufflepuff!reader

summary : In the quiet of late-night Hogwarts, sweet treats and chance encounters stir up something unexpectedly magical between two students who just keep bumping into each other. 🍓✨

warnings : Excessive giggling, blushing, Marauders being insufferable, reader falling hard, James Potter being ridiculous in love. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's notes : UGH BABE!!! THIS ASK WAS SOO CUTE I COULDN'T RESIST WRITING THIS IN A SINGLE DAY. And while plotting, I was hopelessly falling in love with James Fleamont Potter more and more. I mean? Who can even resist him..? Definitely not me.

word count : 1k

main master list <3

banners : @uzmacchiato and @cafekitsune

It started—like all catastrophes and love stories do—in the middle of the night, and with a stolen spoon.

The Hufflepuff kitchens were silent, bathed in the golden warmth of sleepy candlelight. You tiptoed in with your cardigan slipping off one shoulder and your hair in a sleep-mussed mess, craving nothing more than a scoop (or five) of the house-elves’ infamous strawberry ice cream.

And then you heard it. A crash. A clatter. A very loud “BUGGERING HELL—!”

You spun around and came face-to-face with a wild-haired James Potter, one socked foot tangled in a tea towel, holding an ice cream tub as if it were sacred.

“Oh—uh, hullo,” he said, eyes wide behind his glasses. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You’re holding my strawberry ice cream,” you deadpanned, pointing an accusing spoon at him.

“I am,” he nodded gravely. “And I’m very sorry, I didn't realize I’d stumbled into a crime scene.”

You laughed, completely helpless against the lopsided grin he flashed you. Merlin, he was cute. In a manic, over-caffeinated kneazle sort of way.

That night, you shared the ice cream and laughed into the soft silence of the kitchens. He kept offering you more than your fair share, and when your spoon accidentally brushed his, he gasped like he’d just touched a ghost.

You didn’t know it then, but James Potter fell in love with you the moment you snorted ice cream out of your nose.

── .✦

Night Two.

He was already there. Sitting on the counter, legs swinging like a child, waiting with two spoons and an ice cream tub so cold it fogged his glasses.

You raised an eyebrow. “Stalking me, Potter?”

James clutched his chest. “Is it stalking if it’s destiny, darling?”

You rolled your eyes, but sat beside him anyway. He scooted closer. Your knees bumped.

"You're absurd."

“And yet you’re here,” he grinned.

── .✦

From then on, it was every night. Sometimes he brought treacle tart. Sometimes you brought pumpkin pasties. Once, he attempted to bake cookies and nearly set his sleeve on fire. (You saved him, and he called you his “goddess of confections” for a full week.)

He started telling stories. Ridiculous, exaggerated tales of Quidditch practice, Remus getting a love letter from Snape, Sirius hexing McGonagall’s chair to meow every time someone sat on it. You giggled until your sides hurt.

And then there were the kisses.

It started with whipped cream on your nose. He leaned in, eyes sparkling, and pressed his lips to the tip of your nose like he couldn’t help himself.

“Got it,” he whispered.

The next night, it was chocolate sauce on your lip. A slow lean. A breath between you.

And then—soft. Sugary. Sweet.

Ice cream kisses. Like stolen stars in the quiet dark.

── .✦

Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor dormitory:

“I swear to Merlin, he smells like strawberries,” Sirius muttered, sniffing James’s collar.

Remus looked up from his book. “Again?”

“He’s obsessed,” Peter added. “All he does is mope and write bad poetry.”

“I AM A POET, PETER,” James bellowed dramatically from his bed, quill flying. “SHE HAS SUNLIGHT IN HER LAUGH AND HONEY IN HER SMILE—”

“You’ve got ice cream in your soul, mate,” Sirius snorted. “And whipped cream for brains.”

── .✦

You noticed the change too. The way he started walking you to class “accidentally,” popping up beside you like an overly excited golden retriever.

“Funny seeing you here,” he’d say every time, without fail. Even if you were in the Hufflepuff common room.

He always carried a spoon. “Just in case.”

You laughed until your cheeks hurt. Blushed until your neck warmed. He was relentless in the most ridiculous, charming way.

And you were falling.

Slowly. Steadily. With every late-night dessert, every spoon duel, every time he looked at you like you were magic made real.

── .✦

The Night It All Fell Apart (And Then Fell Together):

You didn’t show up.

James waited. For two hours. Ate half a tub of mint chocolate chip in despair.

When he returned to the dorms, Sirius looked up and said, “She’s probably busy, mate.”

“Busy?” James wailed. “Busy?! We are meant to be! I’ve had dreams about our wedding! The cake is strawberry. You’re all wearing yellow suits.”

“You’ve lost it,” Remus said fondly.

“I’m in love, Moony,” James declared. “Do you know what that means?”

“It means he’s going to write another terrible sonnet,” Sirius whispered to Peter.

── .✦

You showed up the next night.

His hair was a mess, eyes tired, tub of rocky road in hand like a sad little offering.

“Hey,” you said, breathless. “Sorry I missed yesterday. Had an Arithmancy essay.”

James blinked.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” he said, and tackled you into a hug so tight you almost dropped your spoon.

You laughed, head tucked into his neck, and whispered, “You missed me?”

“Like a dementor misses souls, love.”

“That's…dark.”

He pulled back to look at you.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, suddenly serious, fingers brushing your cheek. “I know I’m an idiot. And a bit dramatic. And I eat too much sugar. But I—Merlin—I’m head over heels for you.”

You didn’t say anything. Just leaned forward and kissed him.

He tasted like rocky road and hope.

── .✦

Bonus: Gryffindor Common Room, the next morning.

“He’s glowing,” Sirius hissed. “Glowing, I say.”

“Strawberry lipstick stain,” Peter added, pointing at James’s collar.

Remus looked up from his essay. “How many tubs of ice cream have you shared now?”

James, eyes dreamy, replied, “Seventeen. And a half.”

Sirius groaned. “That’s seventeen brain cells lost.”

“Worth it,” James sighed, kicking his feet. “She called me sweet last night.”

“You are sweet,” you said, poking your head into the common room. “Especially when you’re flustered.”

James’s head whipped around so fast, he nearly fell off the couch.

“See?” he said, beaming. “She loves me.”

And Merlin help you, you did.

Even if he still brought a spoon everywhere.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WOLF BOY

when ao3 goes down, we write tumblr fic (edited version now on ao3 HERE lol)

i used the 15/11/24 @sterekdrabbles challenge for this. the prompt words were GREEN, REACH and SCATTER. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as it's around 1K words and therefore definitely a drabble gone long lol.

it's a spark!stiles slash derek whump sort of affair, just so you know what you're reading xp

.

The dagger is almost within his reach—so very nearly grabbable.

Other than being eight years old in a hospital room with the smell of rotting flowers clinging to the back of his throat, Stiles doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than this.

Again, Derek hacks out, “Just run, Stiles!”

Again, Stiles answers no—only this time, it's not with his voice but a yellow-green vine of pure light that extends from his fingertips as he pleads with each beat of his heart for the universe to help him, the tendrils stretching, stretching, then victoriously winding themselves around the handle of the blade. 

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, now with his actual voice, and then the vine of his will is pulling the knife flush into his grip. 

He looks up at the hunter, their face a billboard of surprise, before a shriek rips itself from her belly at the very same time Derek roars from where he's tethered and bound, the wolfsbane-laced chains melting further into his flesh as he tries in vain to once again break free.

Then the evil bastard is flinging herself at Stiles—and straight into the dagger aimed at her solar plexus that his light sends sailing across the cave, plunging it deep into her breast.

It might not be bullseye, but it does the trick.

As she drops to the dusty ground like a discarded ragdoll, the other two hunters' heads snap like whiplash to where Stiles is sprawled, a look of pure terror marring their faces.

The cowardly fuckers drop their weapons and scatter, leaving Stiles and Derek alone—other than the dead woman at their feet—in the large cave they'd dragged Derek into a few hours ago.

Derek's wrung out, and beaten down, but alive. 

At once, Stiles scrambles to his feet to get over to where the ʼwolf is chained up, almost falling back down again when his probably sprained ankle gives way beneath him. 

“Stop fucking hurting yourself,” Derek hisses, and for once in Stiles's insane life he wishes he could gnash his teeth and roar in response, and it have an effect that would be anything other than ridiculous. 

“Oh my god,” he protests instead. “I've just saved your offensively pretty ass with my new spark's apparently awesome Gio-Ju-ju, a-hole, so how ʼbout we be a little less sourwolf and a lot more gratefulwolf to ol’Stilesy boy here, hmm?” he sasses, finding the key to the padlock that's bolted to Derek's chains on the flat rock where his flashlight got dropped when confiscated by one of the hunters. 

Stiles feels petulant, and justified in that petulance as he discards the now unlocked padlock. Then he feels a little wrong-footed when Derek quietly mumbles, “Thank you,” because the guy sounds both in a considerable amount of pain and genuinely grateful to Stiles.

Stiles sighs and kneels down to start prizing the chains away from Derek's red-raw, still-smoking skin, the ʼwolf's forever-stoic face giving away nothing of the hurt he's obviously suffering at the cruel hands of the aconite still desperately trying to seep its way into his body.

“You don't have to do that for me, you know,” Stiles says carefully, hinting at Derek's display of endurance.

Derek's eyes flicker from mid-space to Stiles's face, and Stiles suddenly notices that their heads are actually dizzyingly close.

He swallows, and the sound of it echoes around the cave as if mocking him. 

The second he peels away the last link in the chain attached to Derek's skin, and before Derek can push him away, Stiles brings a hand to Derek's throat to feel for his pulse. 

When determined fingers find it, Derek's face does a thing that Stiles hasn't seen it do before; it's this combination of incredulous and vulnerable, and is so unprecedented, and so beautiful, that Stiles sort of wants to cry about it. 

“You can hear mine,” he superfluously reminds Derek, before saying what he really wants to. “It's not fair I don't get to know—that you're alive, I mean. Like, I know I can see it but… The tactile reassurance? That's, uh, you know, kind of nice, too.” 

Man, he spends way too much time with werewolves. 

Then, when he licks at his dry lips and Derek's pulse quickens under his fingertips, Stiles is so much more than simply placated.

Taking a steadying breath, he feels a million trillion miles away from anything even remotely resembling steady.

He studies Derek's face some more for confirmation of his suspicion, and finds something akin to bashful swimming amid the swirls of those gorgeous seafoam eyes.

Derek likes him back?

Stiles sinks his teeth into his bottom lip; Derek's pulse starts to race. 

Amazingly, it seems Stiles isn't alone in the want he feels deep in his gut, and as it grows and spreads to his extremities, his fingers and toes now tingling with it, he reckons he's maybe beaten-up and bleeding out and half-braindead enough to have the balls to actually do something about it. 

It must be biological, he thinks as he licks at his lips again, that his body somehow knows exactly what to do to hopefully get Derek to do exactly what Stiles wants him to—lick Stiles' lips for him, that is—without him making an actual fully-formed decision on the matter.

Although as soon as he's thinking that, the decision to kiss Derek is unequivocally made—even if it's going to get him shoved into the dirt for trying. 

He's about to lean in when one of Derek's already beginning-to-heal hands stops him by bracing his shoulder. 

“I can smell your pain, Stiles,” he says. “Let me help.”

Stiles tries not to smile as he lies through his teeth. “Hurts here, the most,” he murmurs, touching two fingers from the hand not at Derek's pulse to his bruised, bloody lips. He then curls the other hand further around the werewolf's neck, to hold on.

Derek starts to pant, and Stiles has to hold in a whine.

The werewolf sounds absolutely wrecked when he asks, “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me by wrapping your hand around my throat?”

Stiles's smile then brakes free and is wry as his wit as he answers, “I've been working hard to find out how to woo you for months now, big guy. What do you think?”

And when Derek lunges to crush Stiles's mouth with his own, teasing Stiles' lips apart with his hot, hot tongue and nipping at them with blunted canines, Stiles reckons he knows what it must feel like to howl. 

.

edited version now on ao3 HERE if you'd like to drop me a comment xp

[killrus]

Erik Campbell's Killer Playlist {part one}

❧𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Erik Campbell x Reader

❧𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧g: Teen and Up

❧𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Headcanons on songs he would totally put in a playlist for you guys

❧ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I got two fics from prompts I’m cooking up for y’all. But for the time being... enjoy emo boy headcanons. Also I enjoy all these songs so any hate is out of love. Part one bc it's almost 4am.

Before I list songs, here’s my quick reasoning: Eric would so listen to classic emo songs as well as newer cheesy emo music. Like, Ice Nine Kills? Fuck yeah. The Used? Oh he’s headbanging to Pretty Handsome Awkward. Fall Out Boy? If anyone finds out he enjoys them… oh he’ll murder them. But he has a soft spot for the classics. Like, classic rock. He’d originally find songs from his dad or from Supernatural. Weird but he did dress like Dean Winchester in middle school for Halloween. He's always a fan of classic pop ballads. Total Eclipse of the Heart? He’s crying in his room. So when it comes time to make a playlist for you he’s on it. He already started making the playlist after the first date. Mainly so he could slip some songs on when making out or driving somewhere.

Dance Dance by Fall Out Boy. “Why don't you show me a little bit of spine. You've been saving for his mattress, love.” I’m telling you, Erik goes feral when this song comes on. You think it’s cheesy but he loves it. Even does the heart hand thing from the music video. You’re making out and he’s grinding his hips to the beat of the song. Build God Then We’ll Talk by Panic! At The Disco. “What a wonderful caricature of intimacy” He’s a slut for pre-split Panic!. Mainly A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out. Ryan Ross’ writing really gets to him. He was a big fan of Panic! back in middle school. He stopped listening once the album after Vices & Virtues came out. Plus he’ll stop mid-make out to listen to the cello solo mid song. >>“Babe, this is the best part!” He’d say, holding you close to him. Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by Panic! At The Disco. “I've got more wit, a better kiss. A hotter touch, a better fuck. Than any boy you'll ever meet. Sweetie, you had me.” You question why he would add this to the playlist. He explains it’s seductive. You don’t seem to agree but he changes your mind after the first time you have sex to this playlist.

The Taste Of Ink by The Used. “And won't you think I'm pretty. When I'm standing top the bright lit city.” He listens to this song all the time at the tattoo studio. His boss hates it but he loves it. It’s how he feels. He’ll sing the lyrics, “As long as you're alive and care. I promise I will take you there” to you. You think it’s honestly so cute. Lowkey wants this as a first dance song at your wedding. You’ll have to have a conversation about that.

Ohio Is for Lovers by Hawthorne Heights. “Spare me just three last words. "I love you" is all she heard.” The CLASSIC emo song. Erik adds it for the charm and nostalgia it holds. He remembers screaming this song at the top of his lungs when he was younger. It causes you to laugh the way the singer sings “cause my heart is in ohiooooo”. Erik hates when you make fun of the song but he finds it charming the way you engage with the music he likes. Welcome Home by Coheed and Cambria. “But if you really loved me. You would have endured my world.” Erik will air guitar to the beginning and the solo. You find it cute and enduring… the first time. He once pulled over to do the air guitar and you had to lecture him about safe driving once he almost drove into a truck. Yeah Boy and Doll Face by Pierce The Veil. “Do you want me? Do you want to let me know that you're okay?” One of the first songs that made you ask if he was okay. He nodded while it played. You think it’s on his playlist for you but he assures you the yearning in the song reminds him of the way he feels about you. That makes you explain what the song is really about and he’s a bit dumbfounded. I Caught Fire by The Used. “In your eyes, I lost my place. Could stay a while. And I'm melting.” Another contender on the list of first dance songs. He learns it on guitar to sing to you. You find it cute. Well, you find everything he does cute. This is just cuteness overload for you. This song brings out a softer side to Erik that comes out rarely to the public. I Never Told You What I Do for a Living by My Chemical Romance. “And we'll love again, we'll laugh again.” Revenge is his FAVORITE album by My Chemical Romance. He claims this is a romantic song. Actually, he explains the full album lore to you. You sit through it while nodding your head along. He explains to you that this was his whole middle school and high school obsession. You honestly find that endearing. At least the man has hobbies!

i did not proof read this i am so sorry. love y'all

[august-anon]

Hi!

Can you write a lee tim and ler jason tickle fic, please? Basically, Jason and Tim are sparring in the batcave, and after a few rough hits from jason (the main goal is to see who taps out first), Tim says that he can handle anything Jason throws at him and more, and Jason is like "oh yeah?" And after some more sparring and faster moves from Tim and Jason, Jason gets fed up and jabs him in the ribs to throw him off and then pinning him to the mat tickling him.

You don't have to write this, btw! And thank you!!

yes yes yes, so happy to fill this prompt!!! I had a lot of fun with it!! I didn't want it to turn out too much like the sparring/tickling scene in Brother's Forged in Laughter, so i tried to add a fun little game to the tickling that i hope you enjoy!!

also i am sorry it is so short compared to other fics i've put out for this fandom lately 😭 was working on this on and off in the Height of my writer's block this past month. But i hope you still enjoy it!!!

also, apologies, but i only barely edited this (aka did a loose proofread after taking my sleeping aids one night and i was really drowsy 😭), but i really wanted to get a fic out for everyone since you all have been so patient with me (esp those of you with prompts sitting with me since beginning of January, like ficsstuff here sdjkfhdfs you absolute patient angel, thank you)

_____________________________________

Snotface

Fandom: Batfamily (no specific source material/continuity)

Ship(s): Gen!!! Platonic!! Familial!! No batcest here

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Tim & Ler!Jason

Word Count: 2890 words

Summary: Tim was never sparring with Jason again. He was a cheater in every way imaginable.

[ao3 link]

_____________________________________

Lungs burning and muscles screaming, Red Robin leapt over the leg sweeping toward him. He barely caught his balance in time to dodge the series of punches thrown his way immediately after. He advanced, throwing a few punches of his own, but each one was blocked with ease. Red Robin really wished he had his bo staff right about now – now that would even the odds. Red Robin retreated after narrowly blocking a particularly heavy hit toward his head, taking a moment to regroup.

The Red Hood circled him, letting loose a low chuckle. “That all you got, kid? I’m not impressed.”

Red Robin lowered his center of gravity, feeling the bruises forming on his calves and thighs go ache with the motion. He took a deep, steadying breath, gratified when he didn’t feel any pain in his chest or ribs. At least he was still blocking right. He wasn’t eager to see the medley of bruises on his arms, later.

“Please,” he scoffed. “I can take anything you can dish out and then some.”

Hood narrowed his eyes, zeroing in on Red Robin’s form to search for weaknesses. “Is that so?” His voice was drawling, almost lazy. The taunt would have been more effective if his chest wasn’t rising and falling rapidly with his own breath. 

“Yeah. Why don’t you give up now, save your pride?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Hood didn’t give him a chance to reply to the banter, charging him without warning. Red Robin swallowed a yelp, rolling out of the way. He could feel Hood’s fingers catch on the back of his clothing, nearly snatching him right up then and there. He leapt out of range the moment his feet were under him, trying to anticipate Red Hood’s next move.

They circled for another few moments before Red Robin took the initiative, feinting left and managing to land a solid hit on Hood’s right side. Hood grunted at the punch, and Red Robin pushed his luck, trying to slip around behind him for a nerve strike. Hood recovered quickly, however, and snatched him around the chest. Fortunately for Red Robin, Hood’s arm was right within biting range, and he wasn’t afraid of fighting dirty.

“You little shit!” Red Hood roared and threw Red Robin to the ground. 

Red Robin skidded across the floor for a few feet, trying to regain his footing. He scrambled back up just in time for Hood to be upon him, throwing hit after hit at Red Robin’s defenses. He did his best to dodge and block, trying his best to fall back as he lost stamina. Hood had more endurance than him – Red Robin blamed it on the Lazarus Pit – and in a brawl like this, Red Robin would almost always lose. 

Hood growled as he realized what was happening, clearly losing patience with the fight. He lunged after Red Robin, speeding up his punches, trying to force an opening. Red Robin fought to keep up, but he could feel himself flagging. He wasn’t surprised when a hit finally made it through his defenses. What did surprise him was the actual jab to his upper ribs, making him shriek and jerk away from the touch.

“Gotcha,” Red Hood growled.

“Wait, no–” Red Robin tried to scramble away.

“C’mere, fucking– snotface McGee–”

Tim yelped as his back hit the training mats with a dull smack, Jason pinning him down with his body weight so he couldn’t escape. Tim shoved at his shoulders and face, trying to dislodge him.

“You can’t keep calling me a snotface– I’m nineteen!”

Jason caught one of his wrists, wrestling it down to the mats next to his head. “You’re a snotface for as long as I say you’re a snotface. Would you prefer shithead?”

Tim bared his teeth, jerking his legs up to knee Jason in the spine. “Yeah, actually!”

“Too fucking bad, snotface!”

Tim growled, trying to twist his body underneath Jason enough to create some room to escape. “You’re such a piece of shit!”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Bold words for such a ticklish little shit.”

Tim’s eyes went wide. “What? No – Jason!”

He smirked. “What was it, again? Anything I can dish out and then some?”

“No, no, nonono–” Tim was babbling now, and all it did was make Jason laugh.

“You know the rules of a spar, Timberella.” He leaned in, his broad shoulders making him look all looming and threatening. “Tap out or face consequences.”

Tim glared at him. “You’re gonna tickle me either way.”

Jason’s smirk opened into a shark-like grin. “Probably. But if you tap out, I’ll go easy on you.”

As if.

“I’m not stupid.”

Jason cocked his head. “No, you’re not, are you?”

And then there were fingers rippling into his side and Tim was lost to giggles. He was so tired from the last several spars, and his own solo training before that, that he had no hope of hiding his reactions – not that it would’ve done him much good anyway. Jason knew his tickle-spots far too well, by now.

“Laughing already, Timmy-boy? Oh, this does not bode well for you.”

“You’re mean!” Tim whined, wriggling underneath Jason and pushing at Jason’s hand with his free one.

Jason scoffed, skipping over his ribs entirely (that never boded well, Jason skipping over death spots – Tim was in trouble) to stuff his hand into Tim’s armpit. “Oh, you haven’t even seen mean, yet.”

Tim snorted once before tossing his head back in belly-laughter, kicking his legs out behind Jason. “Get out of there!”

Jason hummed. “You want me to switch spots? Give me an alternative.”

Tim’s eyes bugged out of his head. His squirming renewed tenfold, the combined sweat from their workouts (which, ew, Tim was so taking an hour-long shower after this) helping him in slipping his wrist from Jason’s hand. Jason made a surprised sound as he slipped out of his grip and clamped his arms down to his sides.

“Dammit, get back here–” 

Jason pulled his tickling hand away, scrambling for Tim’s hands, and Tim realized this was his moment. His one chance to get away, to escape Jason’s torment entirely. He shot his hands down in a panic, grabbing at Jason’s hips and squeezing them repeatedly. Jason yelped and let out a whinnying, wheezing laugh, slipping halfway off Tim in his own attempts to get away. Tim kicked at the ground, trying to get the leverage to crawl out from under him the rest of the way.

“Little shit!” Jason shouted, his hands shooting down to Tim’s wrists and capturing both in a vice grip.

Tim cursed, trying to pull or twist his hands away, but Jason had grown wise to his tricks. He kept his grip tight as he readjusted himself onto Tim’s thighs, practically growling as he pinned Tim’s hands under his knees.

“You’re gonna fucking regret that, Tim.”

Tim squirmed, firmly trapped against the mats, and gave Jason a pleading look. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

Jason chuckled, low and dangerous. He planted his hands on either side of Tim’s head, looming down at him. “Oh, yes you did. Now you’re really not getting out of this.”

Tim grunted, twisting this way and that, yanking at his arms, kicking at the mats to try and propel himself away. Jason smirked at his struggles.

“Now, tell me where I should tickle.”

“No!” Tim yelled, tossing himself from side to side. “You can’t do that!”

“Oh yeah? And why not?”

“It’s – it’s cheating!”

Jason laughed outright. “It’s cheating? What the hell am I even cheating at?”

“Being a jerk!”

“How does one even cheat at being a jerk? That makes no fucking sense. How is your brain already fried when I haven’t even started tickling yet?”

Jason started hovering his hands over Tim’s torso, wiggling his fingers ever-so-slowly. Tim gasped, pressing himself back against the mats as if it would give him any more space from the evil hands.

“Tell me.”

“No!”

“Timmy.”

“Cut it out, Jason!”

“Timmers.”

Tim let out some weird amalgamation between a whine and a groan, drumming his heels against the training mats. Jason laughed at him, clearly having far too much fun with Tim’s nerves.

“Come on, sooner you tell me, sooner this teasing stops.” He gave a more dramatic wiggle of his fingers.

Tim slammed his head back against the mats, running through tickle spots in his mind. If he said ribs, would Jason make quick work of the tickle attack and let him go sooner, or would Jason drag it out as long as Tim could stand it? Should he go for a less ticklish spot and hope Jason lost interest (as if that had ever happened), or would Jason just make him keep picking spots until Tim had no choice but to ask for his ribs to be tickled?

Tim groaned, deciding for a choice in-between the two. “Knees?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

He didn’t wait for Tim to reply before leaning back and reaching behind himself, squeezing slowly and deliberately at the muscle above his knees. Tim yipped and bounced his legs, breaking into bright giggles. Jason hummed at the noise, a devious look crossing his face. On one knee, he started squeezing and pinching lightly at a rapid pace, making Tim squeal in response. On the other, he kept the slow pace, squeezing deeply at those ticklish pressure points making Tim jolt at every touch.

“What’s your angle, Timberlina? What’s the plan?”

Tim squeaked and squirmed, struggling to make his words understandable through his giggling. “What’s yours?”

“Pick a new spot and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Tim twisted and bucked, trying to dislodge Jason yet again. “No you won’t!”

Jason shrugged. “Yeah, probably not. Pick anyways.”

Tim had half a mind to refuse again – after all, he was nothing if not stubborn. Then Jason’s hands moved. One just shifted slightly downwards, latching fingers around Tim’s kneecap itself and shifting it back and forth while flexing his fingers where they pinched it. Despite the odd method, Tim found that it tickled a ridiculous amount and his kicking renewed tenfold. The other hand darted behind his knee to spider blunt nails against thin skin, making his giggling all high-pitched and bubbly.

“Okay! Wait, wait!”

Jason didn’t stop. “I’m listening.”

“I– I don’t–!”

“Choose, TimTams. Or I’ll find a way to make it worse again.”

Worse? Again? How many ways could Jason find to tickle knees? Tim decided he didn’t want to find out. He suddenly felt very bad for Damian and his hyperticklish knees.

“Stomach!”

Fingers were massaging into his stomach before he even finished the word. Tim tried to sit up, managing little more than a crunch as he tried to double-over his own torso. Jason snorted at his attempts, scratching mercilessly along his lower stomach to make Tim’s laughter go all squeaky.

“Fuck!”

Jason clicked his tongue. “That’s two dollars in Alfie’s jar.”

“Two?”

Jason smirked, vibrating two fingers from either hand on either side of his belly button. “Two. You’ve still got the baby brother tax, baby brothers have to pay more because they’re not supposed to say bad words.”

Tim only barely managed to get a word out around his cackle – why did those little spots tickle so bad? – kneeing Jason in the back again. “Asshole!”

Jason jerked forward at the hit, eyes narrowing as he paused his tickling. “Four dollars. You sure you wanna keep hitting me?”

Jason reached back, his fingers just barely grazing Tim’s kneecap. Tim yelped and shot his legs back down flat.

“I’m supposed to pick!”

Jason narrowed his eyes, his grin turning mischievous. “That’s right, you are.” Jason’s fingers switched to wiggling all over his stomach, making him giggle. “So pick.”

“What if– what if I don’t, huh? Then you just have to stay there!”

“I already said– I’ll make it worse.” Jason shrugged. “Or I can just start picking for you.”

Tim’s eyes went wide. “No, no!”

Jason ducked down and gave Tim a long, loud raspberry right against one of those twin spots next to his belly button. Tim shrieked, shrill and loud and panicked, and burst into cackles. He wished desperately that he could shove at Jason’s head. Even if it didn’t make him budge, it would at least make him feel better.

“Okay! Okay, okay, okay!”

“I’m waiting, Timber.” He blew another raspberry on the opposite spot.

“Neck!” Tim cried out around his laughter. 

Jason sat up with a sigh. “Alright, fine,” he said, drawing out the last word as if Tim was putting him out.

Tim opened his mouth to make some sort of sarcastic comment in return, but all the air rushed out of him in a flurry of near-hysterical giggles as Jason’s hands reached their target. One hand fluttered around and behind his ear, while the other ever-so-lightly scratch-scratch-scratched at the sensitive skin of his neck on the other side. Tim tried to shrug up his shoulders for protection, but Jason was undeterred. He flapped his trapped arms against the training mats uselessly, kicking his feet out behind Jason.

“I never said ears!”

Jason scoffed. “Come on, they’re practically the same spot.” He grinned. “Besides, you just did. Now they both count.”

“You’re such a dick!”

“Damn, have I already tickled you so bad that you forgot which brother I am?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Now you sound like Dick.”

Jason paused, for the barest of moments, letting Tim suck in a breath. He nodded. “That’s fair.”

Then he swapped hands. The hand scratching at his neck took its blunt nails to the shell of his ear instead. The hand at his ear started fluttering around everywhere it could reach. The side of Tim’s neck, his throat, back around toward his nape. Tim always wiggled especially hard when Jason reached around to his nape – he couldn’t help it.

“Ooh, good spot?”

“Shut up!”

As if Jason didn’t have a catalogue of Tim’s worst tickle spots locked away in his brain already thanks to his numerous tickle attacks, claiming it was his right as an older brother.

Jason started jumping and back forth between the back of his neck and his ears, then, trapping him between overwhelming tittering as he shook his head and absolutely frantic giggling as he tried to wiggle his whole body free. Both types of laughter had him grinning so wide his eyes were practically squinted shut. It was horribly embarrassing, especially when Jason started to laugh along with him. Trying to force his eyes back open made it even worse, because Tim would almost call the smile on Jason’s face fond, and Jason didn’t do fond. The uncharacteristic affection, whether or not Tim was meant to see it, made him incredibly bashful all of a sudden. It was a little like when Bruce looked at them like he was melting inside – though not quite as bad.

But still, Tim would like to not face older-brother-sappiness right now if he could help it.

“R-ribs!”

Jason paused, and Tim dared squint an eye open to see his expression. The fondness was still there, but it was pushed to the edges of his expression. Now, Jason looked more devious than anything, with an eyebrow raised high.

“You sure about that, Timbo?”

Tim whined. “Isn’t four spots enough already?”

Jason hummed. “Maybe I ought to tell Bruce and Alfie to up your resistance training…”

Tim barely resisted the urge to kick him in the back again. They’d been sparring for ages! And he’d been training hard on his own for over an hour before that! His endurance was fine, thank you very much.

Jason shrugged. “But fine. If you’re willing to offer up that spot to me on a silver platter, I’ll take it.”

Oh, fuck him.

Unfortunately, as was becoming a theme, Tim didn’t quite get the chance to tell him that out loud as Jason’s hands quickly descended to his ribcage and sent him into full-bodied laughter. He wiggled his fingers up and down the bones for a few moments, as if giving Tim a warm-up, before beginning his more targeted attacks.

He vibrated his fingers into Tim’s lowest ribs, leaving Tim cackling and snorting. He scratched at the weak point in the middle, around toward Tim’s back, and he couldn’t help the screeching, shrieking laughter that escaped him. When he dug his fingers into the tops of Tim’s ribs, just below his underarms, Tim’s laughter turned wheezing, almost silent.

Jason rotated around the hot-spots on his ribs, never staying in one place too long. He jumped sporadically between focusing on them and doing a full-rib attack, preventing Tim from predicting his next move and trying to prepare for it. He lost all sense of time as his every thought was tickled out of him before it even formed. Mirthful tears had started to build in the corners of his eyes by the time Jason started tapering his attack down, poking around Tim’s ribs intermittently to keep him on edge and giggling.

“Well then, snotface,” Jason gave a firm pat to either side of his ribcage, snorting at Tim’s full-body flinch. “I guess you’re off the hook.”

“Someday,” Tim grumbled as Jason left him laying boneless on the training mats. “Someday, I will make you regret this.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Timbuktu.” 

[the-ace-with-spades]

fluffy or funny prompt: jake or bradley finds out what the other has named them in their phone contact list/ finds out the (profile) picture they have set when called/ find out the phone background is of the other

Don't know if this meets what you meant but here it is! it might not make much sense but I haven't read it over after writing

Thank you so much for this prompt (and the other ones as well, will try to get to them at some point I think 😅)!

...

Sometimes, Jake thinks that if Bradley’s head wasn’t screwed on, he’d have lost it long ago too. Jake’s thought he was used to it but since he moved in a week ago, it’s been non-stop. This time, he’s been calling Bradley’s phone for the past five minutes, trying to find where in the house he’s left it.

Finally, Jake finds it vibrating in their bedroom, in their bed, of all places, and under Jake’s pile of pillows.

The face that greets him on the screen is his own — it’s his Facebook profile picture because Bradley is the type of old man that links his Facebook with his contacts book, no matter what he says. That part doesn’t surprise him, but as he lets it ring and ring in his hand, he can’t help being a bit offended.

“You have me saved by name and surname? Not even a heart emoji next to it,” he complains. The screen flashes once, Jake Seresin NOK written on top disappears and the whole thing swaps to black and then to Bradley’s basic default lockscreen. “What am I to you, your accountant?”

Only way it could be worse is if he used Jake's government name, Jacob and all.

“I've got everyone saved up that way, you’re not that special baby,” he says, unamused. “My pops did it this way and he was fine.”

For a second, something in Jake’s mouth dries out — he’s rarely heard anything about Bradley’s dad and yet this small little bit takes the air out of his lungs. Bradley doesn’t elaborate because he never does but he’s so used to it almost doesn’t hurt.

“Knew you're an old man deep down your heart.”

Bradley grumbles under his nose, rolling his eyes before he reaches his hand out for the phone — yeah, not gonna be that easy just now.

“Hey,” Jake says as he pretends to give him the phone. “What does NOK mean?”

“Nothing,” Bradley replies, his whole face turning a nice shade of pink that is only reserved for three things — being caught being sweet, being embarrassed, and being horny. Jake swiftly hides the phone behind his back, swapping the hands that come and try to “Come on, I was looking for it for a reason, I need to make a call—”

Bradley steps closer, close enough his knee pins Jake’s legs to the edge of the bed. Any closer and they’d be chest to chest, the warmth of his body already inviting Jake to lean into it, lean forward and take Bradley down into the bed with him.

“What are you so embarrassed about, huh? Got a gallery of my sleeping pictures in there?”

“Jake,” he spits out, arms trying to reach around Jake’s torso — he might have longer limbs than him, but Jake is faster and has more siblings to give up easily. “Sersin.”

“En—Ooh—Kay,” he repeats and then repeats again, now holding the phone behind his head, up in the air.

Bradley takes a step back and looks at the unpacked box of Jake’s shoes on the floor. His cheeks are full-on red now, and he’s pouting in that cute, hypnotising way that makes Jake want to squeeze his face and kiss his pretty little red nose.

“It means next of kin.”

“Oh,” is all Jake can get out for a second. His arms fall to his sides. “Am I your—”

Bradley nods his head before he can even finish. He’s still not looking at him. Jake doesn’t say but all he can think of is that his ma is his next of kin still.

“Most people just go with In Case of Emergency, you know,” he says instead. Bradley isn’t his NOK but he’s his ICE. There’s a difference. “Woulda be nice if you said something.”

“Well,” Bradley doesn’t even try to quip back, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I have my phone back now?”

Jake does the carrot and stick thing again — hand with the phone out and retreating back as Bradley is inches away from it. He needs something more, some kind of explanation, explicit one that will confirm to him what Bradley means with the things he did.

“I don't know, can you?” he asks. Bradley scowls at him. “Shouldn't I at least know your code if I'm your next of kin?”

Instead of going for the phone again, Bradley flicks him on the nose. “I’m going to use the landline.”

They’ve been together for over nine months and he still doesn’t know so many things about Bradley, even as fundamental as who was his next of kin before Jake, or what happened to his dad.

Even just looking at Bradley’s phone, he feels something bitter — the joke about Jake’s sleeping pictures was the first thing that came to his mind, but the truth is, he doesn’t know what Bradley could have on his phone. He doesn’t use it often, far less than his walkman and his ipod, but he likes to take blurry pictures that Jake never sees the appeal of — planes in the sky, motorcycles he never even looks to buy, the seaside.

He’s never seen him take pictures of Jake.

Bradley’s phone is asking him for the pin code and Jake doesn’t know it but he wishes he did. It’s not like he wants to look at his texts or search history. He tries anyway — Bradley’s birthday gets him nowhere, his mom’s birthday gets him nowhere.

On a whim, he types in 1216. And it unlocks. Sixteenth of December is his birthday.

What knocks the breath out of his throat is the homescreen picture.

It’s Jake’s face, sleepy, blinking at the light from the phone’s lens, half-buried into Bradley’s chest and his ugly UVA hoodie. He doesn’t even remember Bradley taking this photo, doesn’t remember which of the times Jake napped on Bradley it is from, how long it could’ve been set as Bradley’s phone background.

“Oh.”

He locks the phone again. He’s seen what he wanted to see.

[noctilucid]

Day 13: Truth; Day 3: Potential

Doing something a bit different this year! Years ago @the-stove-is-on-fire wrote a collection of poetry for Angst Week and it blew my mind a little. I've wanted to try my hand at fan poetry ever since, so I'm using this Dannymay as my excuse.

The framing for these poems— an assignment from Lancer— is for Day 13's prompt: Truth, since the conceit here is that all the students will be a bit more transparent than they intend to be. Tucker's poem is for Day 3, Potential. (My adherence to the month's prompts will be loose and out of order. They'll be compiled and cross-posted to AO3.)

"Eyes to the front people, we've got a lot of presentations to get through, please save your conversation for after class."  Lancer stood leaning with one hand on his desk as he fixed a level, disappointed stare on the A-Listers still tittering in the back.  Students around the room broke into flurries of activity— several rummaged in their bags for assignments, Kayla zipped three rows down to return a pencil to Sydney, and in the back corner, Danny Fenton achieved a new level of pallor as he bent in Sam's direction.

"Sam—!"

"You forgot it was due today, didn't you?" Sam asked, keeping her eyes on the front.  

"This is the poetry thing?" he asked over the noise as he hurried to flip through his stuffed and tattered notebook.  "I didn't even fucking start!  What— what were the requirements?"  

Tucker slid him a clean sheet of lined paper and a pencil.  "Poem about your life.  Read it to the class.  Use three poetic devices.  The easiest ones are repetition, simile, and imagery." 

"What's simile again?"  Danny grabbed the pencil in a death grip and stared down the blank paper in a panic.  

"Compare two things using the word like or as."  

"Shit, does it have to rhyme?"

Sam clapped a hand onto his shoulder and pressed down the developing hunch.  "Hey, breathe.  Write literally anything and call it free verse.  Just— pick something with emotion.  Write about your childhood maybe, like pick an object or a place and just kinda muse on it."  

"We will be going alphabetically by last name," Mr. Lancer called, straightening as the class began to fall into order.  "You'll turn in your copy of the poem after you read it.  I expect everyone to be respectful and paying attention.  After each presentation, you can show approval by snapping."  

Danny let out a panicked whine.  

"I got you man."  Tucker stood ramrod straight, knocking his chair back so it groaned across the floor.  "I volunteer as tribute!"  

Mr. Lancer appeared staggered for a moment, appraising him.  A few students snickered, and Tucker's smile broadened just a hair.  This was all it took to shift Lancer's optimism.  

"Yeah," Sam cut in.  "Can people volunteer first?"  She glanced around at the other students, briefly meeting Kwan's gaze.  "I mean, we can go back to alphabetical after, right?"  She smiled at Lancer, willing him to soften.  

Mr. Lancer tapped a finger on his desk, weighing it, before sighing.  "Alright Mr. Foley.  Based on your enthusiasm, I hope you have something to share that you're proud of."  He gestured to the clear space in front of the whiteboard.  "Your podium awaits."  

Tuck grabbed a tri-folded sheet of paper and sauntered to the front.  He poised there, tall and easy, as the noise petered to a low hum, still aflitter with whispered conversations not quite ready to end.  With a sly smile's preamble, he shot a pair of finger-guns at Star and Paulina, the two loudest voices, and set off another ripple of giggles across the room.  Paulina finally shelved their discussion to roll her eyes and prop her head on her hand, fixing him with a disdainful stare.  But Tucker was riding the high of collective attention, and shot a few more cheeky looks and tongue clicks at others in his audience, milking the crowd.  

"Mr. Foley." 

Tucker slid a hand in one of his cargo pockets and pulled out a chunky pair of sunglasses, which he flicked open with a flourish and perched over his regular pair, the arms locking and fighting each other over his ears.  He held a hand palm out to the desks in front of him.  

"Love—" he said, pausing with the cadence of a preacher—

"Is a splendid, holy thing

Which moves men to weep and birds to sing,

And of all life's wonders yet divined

Your smile is a wonder yet too fine 

To be put down in the annals of rhyme.

And so at a loss for words am I

That muses fail and angels sigh

And lead me to the oldest verse

That speaks our hearts' true feelings first:

Roses are red

The ocean is blue

And wide and deep and as much true

As is my infatuation with you."

He canted his still folded paper towards the girl who seemed most impressed by his performance— in this case, Martha in the second row— and winked at her, to which she and her friends split into a fit of laugher as she hid her face in her hands.  Then he bowed low— and fumbled as his sunglasses fell off, but he managed to catch them.  His composure was unruffled as he righted himself and said, "Caesura. Hyperbole. Imagery."  

And people clapped.  Some of them hamming it up, some rolling their eyes, and a few remembered halfway through that they were supposed to be snapping instead, but most were smiling.  Tucker glanced over at Mr. Lancer with something approaching smugness, but the teacher's face was introspective.  

"An interesting rewrite of, shall we call it the poetic cannon?" He bent to scratch down some notes on his printed rubric. "Skillful transitions between differing meters, and excellent presentation, Mr. Foley.  You might consider theater in the fall."  Lancer looked up from the paper and made eye contact.  Tuck's needling expression broke to something stunned before closing again.  

"Mmm.  Pass."  He flashed a bright smile as he set his paper on the corner of Lancer's desk.  The creased thirds stirred and stretched, unfolding at the unhurried pace of a morning flower.  The scrawled pencil lines filled more of the page than they should.  

"I mean it," Mr. Lancer insisted.  "You have a real stage presence."  

"Yeah.  I'm just full of potential."  He skirted past backpacks in the aisle on his way to his seat.  Mr. Lancer took the sheet from the desk corner and unfolded it to staple to his own page, only to pause, his forehead creasing as he skimmed.  

"Uh, Mr. Foley..."

Tucker slotted himself into his seat behind his desk resolutely.  Mr. Lancer's eyes made their way to the bottom of the page.  

"...ah.  Never mind."  He took an extra rubric off his printed stack and stapled it to the poem.  "Alright.  Any more volunteers?"

-----

Potential by Tucker Foley

When I first began to run,

Bowlegged and stocky in second hand overalls,

My uncle put a nerf ball by my feet and held my hands so I could kick it.

"He'll be a soccer player!" he said as my mother took pictures.

When I broke the vacuum cleaner open 

With a screwdriver and no plan,

My father put the screws back in with me and said, 

"He'll be an engineer."

When I built a Lego robot for the science fair, 

When I placed in advanced math,

When I programmed the lights in my room,

They said I had potential.

When I was suspended for altering attendance records,

When I "facilitated gambling" and skimmed off the top,

When I climbed in after curfew,

They looked me in the eye and pleaded

And told me I had potential.

How many potentials are undone by loyalty?

White men in Hollywood say love is worth more than success.

They think they know better

Because they are rich and famous and alone and miserable. 

"If only I'd stayed poor and in love."

But I get potentials. My ancestors fought too hard for that.

My ribbons from mathletes live in a keepsakes box

With the first Lego bot and a smooth rock from camp.

Some archeologist can dig them up one day

And put me in a museum.

You misunderstand me: 

All the lecturers, counselors 

Who repeat lines about Steve Jobs

And talk breathlessly about scholarships.

You think I need convincing,

But I know my potential.  

I've done things that will never be caught. 

But I can't leave while they need me.

And he can't leave while— no. He can't leave.

His heart is buried here in his sacred plot of earth.

So I stow my potential,

Lock it in my keepsake box. 

A trophy to my pride, a premature nostalgia

This is my choice.

I only wish I never had to tell them— what became of my potential.

*Yeah, I'm not reciting this one.  

[cha-melodius]

2024 Writing Roundup

This one went around last year but I don't THINK I've seen it turn up this year? If it has, please excuse me, especially if you tagged me. 😂

This month marks the 36th month in a row that I've published at least one fic—since January 2022. Insane, I know, but I'm very proud of this streak, especially keeping it going in the midst of writing/posting long fics. I published 17 fics this year, which was considerably fewer than my 31 last year, but my wordcount was almost the same (more stats coming in my year in review at the actual end of the year). Here they are, by month!

JANUARY

Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) (RWRB, E, 5.7k) Florist!Henry and cake artist!Alex have to work together for a wedding last minute

FEBRUARY

Ain't No Place for a Better Man (Lokius, M, 3k) Old west AU, the notorious bandit Loki tangles with gun-for-hire Mobius

MARCH

False Dichotomy (RWRB, E, 62k) You've Got Mail AU, indie bookstore owner Alex and corporate bookstore heir Henry fall in love over email

APRIL

So Close to Something Better Left Unknown (RWRB, E, 20.2k) CIA agent Alex and MI6 agent Henry unwillingly collaborate a mission where Henry gets dosed with a sex pollen drug

The Hazards of Unsolicited Toy Advice (RWRB, T, 2.2k) Henry gives Alex dog toy advice at the pet store.

The Impossible Soul (RWRB, M, 7.2k) Westworld-esque AU. First Son Alex falls in love with an android named Henry at Kensington Palace

MAY

No Ordinary Friend (The Pairing, M, 3.5k) The Calums' story, from Monaco to Palermo

JUNE

Kiss Me Like You Mean It (Firstprince Edition) Kiss Me Like You Mean It (Lokius Edition) Various kiss ficlets from tumblr prompts

Body and Soul(mate) (RWRB, E, 39k) Soulmate bodyswap AU featuring MI6 agent Henry and lawyer Alex, who gets unwillingly pulled into the thick of a mission

JULY

Our Get Along Oodie (RWRB, E, 7.7k) Grad student AU; 3 times Alex and Henry were forced to share the couples oodie and 1 when they shared because they wanted to

AUGUST

Tonight, You're Gold (RWRB, M, 6k) Olympics AU feat. beach volleyball Alex and sailor Henry, accidental roommates in the Olympic Village

SEPTEMBER

Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds (RWRB, T, 4.1k) FSOTUS Alex falls in love with a White House gardener

OCTOBER

Infinitely Late at Night (RWRB, T, 2.7k) Alex is pretty sure the man at the Waffle House in the middle of the night is a vampire

NOVEMBER

Desperate Measures (Lokius, T, 5.3k) When a mission gone wrong strands them on a hostile planet, Loki pushes himself to his limits in order to save Mobius' life

DECEMBER

Since I Memorized Your Face (RWRB, E, 24k) Alex and Henry hooked up in college and find each other 20 years later—oh yeah, and they're soulmates

Not the Hero (RWRB, E, 61k) Fall Guy AU. Stuntman Alex and Director Henry are exes who have to work together on a movie, until the lead actor disappears

[Redacted] (TMFU) My fill for the annual TMFU winter holiday gift exchange.

Ok! Tagging a bunch of folks! @cricketnationrise @rmd-writes @clottedcreamfudge @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firenati0n

@blueeyedgrlwrites @iboatedhere @pippinoftheshire @porcelainmortal @thesleepyskipper

@kiwiana-writes @justabigoldnerd @three-drink-amy @eusuntgratie @faketrex

@orchidscript @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @14carrotghoul @sparklepocalypse @too-young-to-fall-in-love

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @suseagull5914

@leaves-of-laurelin @nicijones @mirilyawrites @onthewaytosomewhere @getmehighonmagic

[in-the-drowning-deep]

Writing Challenge Weekend

@woundedsoul12 tagged me in this, and I've been having Rook/Harding wedding thoughts ever since @maagisterpavus' ask yesterday, so have some tooth rotting fluff based on the prompt:

"Get over your hill and see what you find there, with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair."

"Is that the Inquisitor? And the - Lace! That's the Divine!" "Yeah, Ma," Lace says, laughing. "I told you Cassandra would be here." "You didn't say she was - that she -!" Rose Harding looks fit to burst. "Divine Victoria is officiating my little girl's wedding!" Lace has gone about as red as her hair. She's glad Cassandra isn't in earshot. "She is. It's... it was really nice of her to offer." She decides against telling her who they've got to do the second ceremony in Minrathous. Ashur, she's learning, is perhaps as good and kind and brave as Cassandra, but the whole Black Divine thing is... yeah. Save that surprise for later. At least no one in Redcliffe's been weird to her face about the fact that she's marrying a Vint. (And it had better stay that way.) "It was more than nice, it - oh, come here, darling." Lace shoots Taash a helpless look as her Ma goes back to fussing with the set of her wedding dress, brushing at imaginary lint. Taash just raises an eyebrow, like 'what do you want me to do about it?' That's your Mom, they'd said last night, when Lace had complained about all the fuss she was making. She loves you. 'Course she's gonna be like this. Harding hates when her friends are right. A sudden hush sweeps through the Chantry. Cassandra steps up to the altar, looking resplendent in her robes - but Lace is looking in the opposite direction altogether, back towards the doors as they swing open. It's a motley party that stands in the doors. Lucanis and Emmrich have already taken their seats, but Neve and Bellara are in the bridal party, standing either side of - Of - Oh. Esha looks as beautiful as the day Harding fell in love with her. There are lines etched into her face that weren't there then, and the deep circles under her eyes might never go away entirely. But standing there, her dark curls woven through with laurel and cherry and orange blossom, the leaves just brushing the pointed tips of her ears - she looks like a vision from the Maker himself. And she's looking at Lace like she just saw one too. It's as if the whole world falls away as she walks forward. The whole rest of the room might as well not exist. She's... she's so...! She's about to be Lace's wife! Esha draws level with Lace, with an almost shy grin that looks utterly perfect on her. Lace reaches out a hand and she takes it, squeezing gently. It's a wrench to look away; when she does look up, Cassandra's eyes are glittering with just a hint of tears above a delighted smile. They made it. Everything they did - all of it was worth it for this. She wishes Davrin were here, but she'd like to think he's watching somewhere. She'd like to think they'll find him one day. She can't wait to show him her ring.

[v3nusxsky]

Hey, do you write for wandanat? If not that's totally fine but if you do I was wondering if maybe I could request one?

Maybe where Wanda and nat are already together and one night at an avengers party they spot reader and Wanda falls for them and so convinces Natasha to seduce and take reader home with them?

Hopefully with smut, and maybe with daddy nat and soft mommy Wanda?

Love your work soooo much, feel no pressure to write this❤️

One of a Kind 18+

*Authors note~ a) I wrote this exhausted so mistakes are mine sorry y’all. B) I know you guys are all excited for different things so I was struggling to choose what I should post, shamefully having an anxiety attack over not choosing the right fic. So to save the day my lovely girlfriend choose wandnat for tonight*

To requester, I'm sorry I took some artistic liberties here but I honestly couldn't help but write them as g!p I hope that's okay!!!

Trigger warnings~threesome smut seduction daddy and mommy kink g!p Wanda Nat fingering r receiving praise and degrading kinks choking semi public sex??

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Wanda and Tasha really didn't want to come to this party. No. But as per normal Tony wanted to throw a party and showed off his wealth and success. Wanda opting for a stunning emerald dress and Nat going for a form fitting suit. Wanda hid her cock so well that Nat often found herself being jealous. But she couldn't deny that her girlfriend is absolutely stunning in everything and nothing.

You'd been invited by Fury as a way to introduce you to the Avengers. You'd be set to join the team soon, but no one but Fury or Tony knew. Nat spotted you first, a simple Maroon skirt tucked into a beautiful black pencil skirt. Your legs on full display and a few buttons undone to give a tasteful view of your cleavage to the public. Alone at the bar is how the story starts, a rather cliche but important fact. That was where under an agreement between her and her wife Natasha swooped in on you.

You'd be lying if you said she wasn't sexy and very alluring but you still don't quite understand why she's here wasting time trying to get you in her bed. No one ever does that. It made you skeptical of her advances and actively ignoring the way her voice alone caused your cunt to become slick. The way her voice deepened as her eyes drank you in almost got you. Almost. But your past caught you first, you ended up lashing out at the woman.

"No one's ever really shown an interest in me. I'm not the prettiest or the smartest or the funniest girl around, I'm just average." You almost whispered but the woman could hear the sadness dripping through every word. "So this cruel joke of yours. Just stop it! Because I know no one would ever want me especially when they look like you do. So just stop" your voice broke on the last few words before you fled the scene. Really how could she do this to you? You thought she was a nice person, but to suggest this and not mean it was obviously going to hurt. After all who in their right mind would want an inexperienced virgin when they can have anyone in the whole world?

"Hey, you're beautiful, and I'd gladly take you home for my wife and me to enjoy for the night, you just have to trust we want you in the way we say" she murmured to you a gentle handed rubbing at your back in an attempt to soothe the confusing outburst. Yet both women were no strangers to being used and abused by other people. "You mean it?" You were really speaking more to yourself but when she replied with a Russian pet name that slipped off her tongue, you were a goner, "детка, we've been watching you all evening, no one in this room has caught our interest because we've been focused on you."

A simple nod had Nat leading you to the table to introduce you to her wife. By no surprise, her wife was just as beautiful as the red head. You immediately felt like you were unworthy of their attention. "I um should say I've never, um" you stumbled over your own admission but you could see you had both women's attention. "It's okay детка we will take this slow and at your pace, we truly want to get to know you дорогой" she whispered to you over the loud noise of the party. The other woman who you learned was the Scarlett Witch offered you to come sit closer to the women as you all conversed over small things really, but you were now completely at ease with them, exactly how they wanted you.

Your head warm and fuzzy, you felt an electric pulse of a slender hand trailing your thighs. It appeared you were more sensitive with the alcohol but soon enough you were spreading your legs for the brunette woman with a little help from her magic. From there you exposed your panty covered core to her curious fingers. The woman seemingly unaffected by her actions and holding a conversation with her wife about how much of an asset you'd be to the team. You almost got away with it, almost, but a little whimper escaped you as she accidentally bumped your aching clit.

"Wans" Nat warned, "you best not be playing with the хорошенькая шлюха without me" she growled the last two words. Truly how rude of you both not to wait for her, especially after her work to bring you to them. "I'm sorry Natty, I just couldn't wait anymore" the woman replied and removed her fingers from your core causing you to release a very disappointed whine. "сейчас, котенок, о тебе хорошо позаботятся" Nat purred before gracing you with a kiss to your neck before taking your hand to lead you away from the party, knowing that her wife will follow behind you.

As soon as you rounded the corner the Russian woman immediately slammed your back against the wall and attached her lips to yours with ease. The need was pouring into the kiss as the brunette woman watched in jealousy. She wanted to be the one kissing you, dragging all the pretty nosies she possibly could, but then again watching her wife touch you was doing unspeakable things to her nether region. "Tashsa" Wanda whimpered feeling the tent begin to show through her dress. "Come котенок, mommy is getting impatient and daddy can't wait to ruin your pretty untouched pussy" Natasha purred leading you to the bedroom once again. Only this time she never got side tracked.

Perhaps you'd had too much, but from there it's hazy, how did you end up absolutely bare for two of the most wanted and famous women in the world? And most importantly why the hell did they have throbbing cocks just desperate for you to take them. The women wanted to do this right, they showered you in love and praises. The made sure to touch and caress every inch of skin they could. And only when your ready did they introduce you to more. "котенок, sort out mommy's problem you caused" Nat demanded, encouraging you to bring your head to her shaft, with another quick check in and some guidance you were now choking on her cock as she forced it down your throat. "Oh fuck natty, this throat is perfect, fuck a good cock whore for me oh!"

With a few strokes to own dick she enjoyed the show, you are a fast learner by the looks of it and she was now struggling to contain herself and refrain from doing all the filthy things she desired to you. Wands sensing her wife's impatience slipped from your throat allowing you to breath as Natasha guided you into a new position. With you now on your hands and knees you were able to suck off wanda and give Nat access to your untouched cunt.

She took it slow, letting you adjust to her size, Wanda telepathically sharing the image of you with teary eyes, choking on her cock as you let Nat deflower you. But soon enough you began to rock backwards in a need for something, yet you didn't know what. "Oh there she is, our flight little girl, a dirty slut for us to use. Oh you've made mommy feel so good котенок she's ready to treat you for all your work, you'd love that huh? Mommy to fill your petty throat with cum?" Nat teased keeping her thrusts slow, "and fuck you're so fucking tight котенок, if mommy doesn't hurry up daddy will paint your pretty pussy white instead."

At the pure threat, Wanda was thrown over the edge into her own pools of bliss, breath heaving as all she could do is mewl yours and her wife's name. You greedily sucked every last drop from her shaft, surprising both women with the fact it was your first time. Only when she was sure she'd finished cumming did she slip from your front and encourage you to slip onto your back so Natasha could see your face. The new position only seemed to encourage the red head, especially with Wanda dropping her head to your breast and skilfully sucking and licking the hardened peaks. She even managed to roughly tweak her wife's right bud causing you both to cry out together.

The gasp you let out when Nat brought one hand from the bed to your throat was something both women wanted on a loop, experimenting with a bit of pressure they discovered a kink for you. "Oh Natty she liked your hand as her necklace. Oh darling is your head all fuzzy?" A broken confirmation left you as Natasha picked up an almost animalistic pace of pounding into you. And when your cries became to loud Wanda guided you to her breast, allowing you to suckle and nip her sensitive skin and effectively soothe you at the same time.

When Natasha came in long spurts of sticky white cum you honestly had no thoughts other than both the women. You lost count of how many times you'd been forced over the edge and just how long you'd been here, but now you didn't care. What a first experience to have. Oh but you weren't done, they immediately started to clean up and look after you, offering food water and cuddles. You wanted to talk, what could this mean? You'd slept with married women? Was it a fling? You hoped not. And Wanda heard all those thoughts and settled you into bed between the women with promises of talking about everything when your brain wasn't still in sub space. You'd be needing a clear mind to decide if you would join the relationship as a third party. But for now, you all slept.

Word count ~ 1839

[dynamicccsworld]

Byler Week ideas/prompts, since I can't write or draw. Feel free to use to create your own fanfics or art <3

Some of these have little extra notes :)

Cobalt Blue

Ocean

•Jaws Au.

•Pirate Au.

• H20 Au.

•The Little Mermaid AU.

• Merpeople AU.

• The Wheelers have a Beach Vacation or something.

•Battle of the Beach (Enemies to Lovers)

Will and Mike both want a property on a small beach, with results in wacky shenanigans to convince Hopper (the owner) to give them the property. However, they bite off more than they can chew, and begin to view eachother differently then before.

Liminal Pool

•Backrooms AU.

Blue Hour

•Seamonster AU (Strangers to Lovers)

Will and Mike are investigators investigating a sea monster that comes out during blue hour, and they fall in love in the process.

Chili

Masquerade

•Murder Mystery AU

A murder mystery that takes place at a Masquerade, pretty self explanatory.

•Cinderella Inspired Masquerade AU

Rubies

•Royal AU

Will and Mike used to be childhood friends, but Mike got adopted by Queen Karen. Will is the son of a baker, and Mike is now a prince.

The only thing they have to remember eachother is a shared ruby necklace. (I had no better ideas lol)

Mauve

Butterfly Effect

•Time Travel AU

Will goes back in time to save people who have died in Hawkins, but it has unwanted side effects on the timeline.

•You Wish! AU

Mike wakes up in a world where he and Will never met, which leads to him discovering his feelings for him.

Lavender Fields

•Fae Au

1800s Ball

•Arranged Marriage AU

Gray

Medieval Knights

•Knight x Prince

•D&D AU

•Knight x Mage (Duh)

Growing Old

•Byler Dad AU

•Byler over the years refecting on their relationship

Love Locks

•Mike or Will finds a love lock.

• Lover Locks Movie AU. (I've never watched this movie so I don't know anything about it)

Forest Green

Hiking

•Will and Mike meet after getting lost on a hiking trail.

Spring Break

• The Party plans to get Mike and Will together over the course of spring break.

Cottage Core

•Disney AU

• Royalty AU, Again.

Prince Mike flees his castle after getting in a fight with his father, and he gets lost. After getting lost he discovers a strange cottage in the woods.

Gold

Birthday Party

•Birthday Gate

•Birthday Au

Mike or Will freaking out about the others birthday.

Sunset

•Magic AU

Something magical happens during a sunset, you can decide what it is. C:

Picnic

•Established Relationship AU

Just a fluffy fic where they have a picnic :)

Rose Gold

Champagne

•Drunk Byler

Mike or Will confess while drunk.

Engagement Rings

•Accidental Engagement

Byler accidentally gets engaged while drunk.

•Proposing

Will or Mike freaking about how to propose.

That's all the ideas I have! If you use any you don't need to credit ^^

(Byler week belongs to @bylerweek2025)

[queerwolf79]

Sonic and Shadow's Excellent Adventure (Month of Sonadow 2025)

Title: Sonic and Shadow's Excellent Adventure (Month of Sonadow 2025)

Author: queerwolf79 | @queerwolf79​

Rating: Mature

Beta(s): Eyes_Of_A_Tragedy | @eyesofatragedy67​​  & tfw_cas | @punk-is-notdead

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Content/Trigger Warning(s): Memory Loss

Tags: Tags May Increase, Canon Compliant to Movie Universe, Then Canon Divergent, Amnesia Fic, Comedy, Angst, First Kiss, First Love, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, More Just Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Canon Divergent to Incorporate Other Shows and Video Games, Holding Off on Introducing Amy and Mecha Sonic, Miscommunication is the Real Villain Here, Actually No It’s an Actual Villain, But Still, No Warnings Apply Because Even Though They’re 17 I’m Not Tagging Underage, Because in Hedgehog to Human Years That Means They’re a Bazillion Years Old, Each Chapter is a Month of Sonadow 2025 Daily Prompt

Pairing(s): Sonic the Hedgehog/Shadow the Hedgehog

Summary:

Shadow returns to earth, missing his memories save for his name and a gruesome flashback of the death of someone named Maria. Sonic finds him, wandering a forest in New York, and in true Sonic fashion, brings Shadow home to help him recover his memories. That receives a mixed reception from his family, but ultimately, they all come to realize this could be the chance to give Shadow the life he never got to have since he landed on Earth over fifty years ago.  Unfortunately, as usual, nothing could be that simple for the Wachowskis. A dark entity has been watching Shadow’s progress from afar, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Will the darkness Shadow was born with outweigh what he feels for the light that is Sonic the Hedgehog?  Can love save the day, and more importantly, the world?

Notes: Well, I have fallen down the hedgehog hole of being obsessed with Sonic and Shadow. When I saw the Month of Sonadow challenge (by @/DailySonadow on Twitter) shared here on Tumblr by artists, I couldn't resist writing a fic.

I know I'm LATE, but technically I've started posting in February, so it counts! Originally it was going to be a series of drabbles, instead it turned into this 28 chapter fic about Sonic and Shadow falling in love. Each chapter adheres to its corresponding daily prompt while telling a cohesive story.

The updates will be weekly on Fridays, and when it's completely edited, they will be more frequent, thinking M/W/F until fully posted. Subscribe to my tumblr or on Ao3 for updates!

Anyway, here's my incredibly late contribution to Month of Sonadow!

Read it Here!

[railroad-migraine]

In honour of Legend of Vox Machina coming out, can we have a Percy x (fem/gender neutral) reader with the prompt "You feel like home to me." Maybe reader also lost their home (or they were from Whitestone too)

'Welcome Home'

-> Percy x GN!Reader

Notes: Angst and fluff, hurt comfort. I started writing this piece in January 2022. As of June 2023, I have now watched TLOVM. Sorry it took a while Anon, but I wanted to save your lovely request for when I eventually got into Vox Machina 💙 Can be read as platonic or romantic

~ Poet

*****

It wasn't meant to be like this.

Things had not gone to plan. What was the plan, you say? That is debatable depending on who you'd ask.

To start, Vax was unfortunately spotted skulking around the enemy's camp. That then lead to small confrontation, one that he'd be fine to handle all by himself, one where he was suspiciously poked and prodded at innocently, but Keyleth instinctually stepped in to save him - thus getting the whole party involved and quickly overwhelmed. It was manageable until the exact moment where Grog lopped off the head of one of the bandits.

To put it simply, all hell broke loose and it all went to shit.

However, in the end, when the bandits lay dead and smloldering by the campfire, it was a victory for Vox Machina.

A victory, maybe. But not quite a win.

Wounds were in need of tending to, and Pike was far too exhausted to treat everyone. Camping in the woods did not seem to be the best option, the trees offering little cover, and neither did the cliff face nearby. Frustrated, tired, hungry - voices raising at each other prickled the hairs at the back of your neck and you knew you had to step up. To be the adult.

"There is a village," you start, but no one chooses to listen, your voice just another one in the argument.

"There is a village," you repeat, a little more firm and insistant, and the others begin to withdraw, eyes falling onto you, "not far from here. I- I didn't mention it before because it doesn't belong on the map. Not anymore, at least.

"We can go there, set up camp, sit down and just shut up for a few hours," you sigh.

Most of the party look hesitant but Scanlan raises a brow and shrugs with an easy nonchalance that you envy. "If you say it's safe, I'm down."

It wasn't meant to be like this.

"It is." You hope. "I promise.

Percy watches you carefully, the fading light of the Sun behind him casting shadows on his face, sharpens his already sharp jawline even further until it cuts into his coat's collar. Something dangerous in his expression. "Lead on, then," but he doesn't sound convinced.

And so you lead your friends to the home and earth that once nurtured your childhood, the very same that you abandoned all those years ago in favour of adventure.

You were still young. Like a child, scarrless, soft, green and new to the greater world that waited for you beyond your doorstep.

It wasn't meant to be like this, you think as you fall to your knees, taking in the grim sight before you. It's hard to tell what exactly happened, whether the homes had been raided and intentionally burned down, or if it had been a simple accident and the townspeople luckily fled somewhere safe.

How long had it been since you left home? What seemed like yesterday were many, many months for your people, and anything can happen in that time apart.

But you never expected to be returning home to a graveyard.

It wasn't meant to be like this.

"I'm sorry."

You sniffle and quickly wipe your nose with the sleeve of your shirt, choking back a bitter laugh. "Percy." He pulls his mouth into a straight line, a grimace of sorts. "You can be a thorn in my side at times, but why should you be sorry?"

He shifts his weight on his feet. "Because... because it's what people might have said to me when I was in a similar state. I'm not sure if it would ever have made me feel better, but I suppose it shows some level of... respect. Condolences. Comfort, sometimes. Or so I've heard."

He pulls his coat tighter around his torso, the bite in the air unforgiving even as you mourn for your childhood home while your knees press into dirt. You risk a glance up at his face, and his forlorn expression shatters your already broken heart. He feigns a weak smile, and ducks his chin in sympathy. "It's not for everyone, I suppose."

It's a cold comfort as your grip on the ashes of your home loosens, and slips through your fingers, like sand lost in the wind.

Percy says your name, clear and grounding, and you manage to tear your gaze from what's left of your history. "Look at me." You crane your neck to look to where he looms over your hunched form. "Home is a feeling... I know that more than anybody."

Slowly, so slowly and gentle as if caught in slow motion, he crouches down to meet your height. He appraises you for a hesitant moment, then reaches out to wipe a tear that trails down your cheek, one that you had accidentally neglected. It smears across your skin smoothly, leaving a clean line in the thin layer of dust you had acquired since the battle and trek over here.

He looks at you softly, and you nearly sob from the incredible amount of emotions you feel all at once. You grip his hand like a lifeline and press it into your face so that you can lean into the comfort he's providing, and a shudder washes over you at the warmth radiating from his glove.

Percy nudges your chin up with his free hand, and you have no choice but to meet his watery eyes.

"And you feel like home to me."

In that moment, you know you feel the same for him.

*****

[posts this and RUNS]

[yandereorg]

The tortured poets department

Yandere writing prompts inspired by The Tortured Poets Department, some songs I didn’t do out of it being repetitive or i just couldn’t make it work.

Feel free to request any and add your own input, I got very tired towards the end<3

Fortnight-

Imagining a past future with a brief lover, full of the sweetest delusions fueling the foulest jealousies

Quotes “And for a fortnight there, we were forever”, “I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary”, “Your wife waters flowers, I wanna kill her” and “And I love you, it's ruining my life”

The Tortured Poets Department

Reading too much into them, obsessed even though they’re hurting themselves and you, wanting so desperately to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved

Quotes “I chose this cyclone with you”, “Who else decodes you?”, “But you're in self-sabotage mode, Throwing spikes down on the road”,and At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger, And put it on the one people put wedding rings on, And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding”

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

(Original & final lyrics)

Finally leaving only to be drawn back in, you’re their favourite after all

Quotes, “He was my best friend and that was the worst part.", “I felt more then, in brief moments, Than with all the Kens”, “I'm queen of the kingdoms he destroys, oh, oh”, and “The voices in his head, Ring out louder than our midnight sighs”

Down Bad

The character picking up the pieces after you ruin them, they won’t let you leave them safe and stranded

Quotes, “So fuck you if I can't have us”, “wakin' up in blood”, “For a moment, I was heavenstruck”, “How dare you think it's romantic, Leaving me safe and stranded”

So Long, London

A lover so lost in their melancholy they virtually forget about you, or do they?

Quotes, “And you say I abandoned the ship, But I was going down with it”, “I died on the altar waiting for the proof, You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days”, “I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place”, and “Stitches undone, Two graves, one gun”

But Daddy I Love Him

When everyone says no you just want it more, a love that’s fast, so bright it’s blinding and based in tragedy you just can’t see it yet.

Quotes, “I'm telling him to floor it through the fences, No, I'm not coming to my senses, I know he's crazy but he's the one I want”, “He was chaos, he was revelry, Bedroom eyes like a remedy”, “The saboteurs protested too much”’ and “It's mine alone to disgrace”

Fresh Out the Slammer

Pretty baby their running home to you, a past causal flame returns looking for sunshine, you’re own addicted brand of sunshine.

Quotes, “Camera flashes, welcome bashes”, “As I said in my letters, now that I know better, I will never lose my baby again”, “children's swings, Wearing imaginary rings” and “And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway”

Florida!!!

You take yourself everywhere you go, and somebody else. Is that why your problems seem inescapable?

Quotes, “And this city reeks of driving myself crazy”, “The hurricane with my name”, and “Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable”

Guilty as Sin?

Love potions, so desperate for attention you’ll fall into the arms of whoever’s nearby

Quotes, “What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh, Only in my mind?”, “fatal fantasies” and “How I long for our trysts, Without ever touching his skin”

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Betting on their feelings might just be the end of your life, well end of a free one anyway

Quotes, “At all costs, keep your good name”, “I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean,” “That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong” and “I am what I am 'cause you trained me”

imgonnagetyouback

They know you can’t resist, they made sure of it

Quotes, You knew the price goin' in, “hear the whispers in your eyes”, “You'll find that you were never not mine”, “Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you”, and “Pick your poison, babe, I'm poison either way”

The Albatross

You misread the signs and the messages, fate was trying to correct course but you just kept fighting.

Quotes, “Shooting the messengers”, “One bad seed kills the garden”, “But I'd visit in your dreams” and “The devil that you know, Looks now more like an angel”

[afewproblems]

50. "I need you to forgive me."

You know why...

But please!!!

I know this took forever so I hope you will forgive me! (Also when I originally received this ask I had just posted part one and mentioned in the tags that prompt 50 could be a good 'fix-it' prompt for a follow up, and well, here we are! Also when I received it, I laughed for a solid minute, like evil laughed so thank you @happymediummm )

Part Three of Prompt 53. 'I'm flirting with you!'

Part One, Part Two

It's on Friday that the cavalry arrives.

Dustin bangs on Eddie's bedroom door, with a mace by the sounds of it.

He's about to snark that Dustin doesn't play a class that uses martial weapons when he hears the kid yell--

"Eddie! You have five seconds before I come in there and get you myself, I got your uncle's permission and everything!"

Eddie groans and detaches himself from the bed  flipping the pillow he had been wallowing in away from himself.

He stomps towards the door and flings it open, leveling an unimpressed glare at Dustin who barrels past him into the bedroom.

Dustin crosses to the desk, his head on a swivel as he looks around the small space, Eddie scoffs as he steps towards Dustin, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing Henderson?" Eddie spits out as Dustin shrugs his hand off, he seems to spy what he's looking for as he crows a single, 'Aha,' and makes his way to the dresser.

"Seriously, Dustin, what are you doing here?"

"Saving you from yourself dude," Dustin scoffs as he takes a tape out of his pants pocket, the familiar writing on the label makes Eddie's stomach fall into his feet.

It's Steve's tape.

"No, nope, absolutely not," Eddie snaps. 

He reaches for the cassette in Dustin's hand, only for the little shit to spin away from him and toss the tape from his right to his left hand in a move that seems so much like the teen's babysitter that Eddie wants to scream.

Dustin manages to pop the tape into the player and hit play before Eddie can get close again.

A few notes of a bass guitar reach Eddie's ear and his hands drop from Dustin's shoulders as he perks up…he knows this song.

"What the fuck Henderson?" He breathes out with wide eyes that flick back and forth between him and the cassette player.

'Oh yeah!

Some people say my love cannot be true

Please believe me, my love, and i'll show you

I will give you those things you thought unreal

The sun, the moon, the stars all bear my seal--'

"You are being an idiot," Dustin says matter of factly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he frowns at Eddie, "I don't exactly know what you said, but I think I got the gist out of Steve earlier today when Robin wasn't acting like a guard dog". 

His dark blue eyes scan Eddie as he shakes his head, "you thought it was a joke, do you know Steve?"

Eddie rolls his eyes before crossing to the cassette player and slapping the stop button. All at once the sounds of Black Sabbath halt, leaving the room in tense silence. 

"Look," Eddie snarls, "I've known people like Steve over the years, it's all the same bullshit--"

"Stop it!" Dustin snaps, he steps closer to Eddie and jabs a finger into his chest, "you don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

Dustin's cheeks are flushed with anger as he shakes his head again, "he's nothing like that Eddie, you're being an asshole!"

"What is all the yellin' about?" Wayne's voice trickles through the door, a hint of concern running through it as he leans against the frame, eyeing both Eddie and Dustin warily. 

"When I gave you permission to barge in here I don't remember agreeing to participate in a screamin' match son,” Wayne says, biting back a smile at the indignant expression on Dustin's face.

"Sorry Mr. Munson, but Eddie's being an idiot!" Dustin crosses his arms once more as he looks from Eddie to Wayne challengingly.

"That so?" Wayne laughs, "care to argue the charge," he directs at Eddie who rolls his eyes.

"It's nothing Wayne, Dustin is leaving now--" 

"Steve made that tape for you," Dustin yells, pointing at the cassette player, "and you threw it in his face!" 

"That true Ed?"

"It was a stupid joke," Eddie growls as Dustin throws his hands up in the air, "it doesn't mean anything". 

Wayne looks at Eddie for a long moment, his face unreadable.

"Steve Harrington?" He asks softly. 

Dustin nods nervously at Wayne before shooting another glare at Eddie.

"The one that came by your hospital room every day till you woke up Ed? The one they couldn't get to leave on the day you opened your eyes, that Steve Harrington?" 

"So?" Eddie huffs, wrapping his own arms around his chest tightly, incredibly aware of the two pairs of eyes trained on him.

 "Wayne, you told me I had to be careful of who I opened myself up to, I'm just following your advice!" 

Wayne sighs, lifting his hand to pinch into his eyes.

"You'd be lucky to have a friend like Steve," Dustin grumbles as he moves to the bed to sit down. He pulls up his legs up to his chest and glares at the back of Eddie's head.

"Kid, I think Ed and I need to have a conversation, alone," Wayne says quietly to Dustin.

Eddie watches in fascination as Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but after whatever silent conversation takes place between the teen and his uncle, Dustin merely huffs and slips off the bed. 

"Listen to the damn tape and get your head out of your ass," Dustin bites out as he passes Eddie, he levels one last impressive glare at the metal-head before leaving the room.

Wayne sighs as he makes his way over to the bed to sit, taking over Dustin's vacated spot.

"So, Harrington, huh?"

Eddie scowls and says nothing, leaning against the dresser. He winces as the sudden weight of his shoulder jostles everything, causing his loose D&D dice to fall off the edge and plink and plunk across the floor of his room.

The D4 will be a bitch to accidentally find with his feet later on, but Eddie ignores the mess and continues brooding against the dresser.

Wayne scratches his face, tapping an unsteady rhythm against his jean clad knee with his other hand, "okay," Wayne says gruffly from the bed as he shifts to stand. 

"I don't know what ya did or said, but it was enough to make that kid beg his way in here," Wayne huffs, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the open door. 

Eddie shrugs, refusing to lift his gaze from the floor. He hears Wayne sigh and the shift of fabric as he steps closer. 

"You were so small," Wayne mutters suddenly. 

Eddie looks up in confusion, but Wayne isn't looking at him, his eyes are trained just over Eddie's shoulder.

"When you came home that day, all black and blue," he shrugs and scratches his face again, "I didn't know how to help ya, and you wouldn't explain". 

Eddie swallows roughly, horrified at the sudden brightness of his uncle's eyes. A man he has only seen cry twice since he's known him, the first time was at Eddie's mothers funeral, the other was the day Eddie woke up at the hospital all those months ago. 

"I don't think I could stand it if anything happened to you Ed," Wayne breathes out wetly now as he roughly scrubs at his face, "and you being in the hospital, you were suddenly that small kid again, standing on my porch all black and blue". 

Eddie feels his own eyes sting as his uncle turns slightly to wipe his face again, "What are you saying?"

"You weren't alone this time, Ed," Wayne says softly as he steps towards his nephew and grasps him gently by the shoulders, "you have so many more people looking out for you, hell --one of em' carried you home". 

"I think a person like that deserves at least a chance to know you, and to see what I see".

It's Eddie's turn to swipe at his misty eyes, "What's that?" He asks with an unconvincing cough to hide the wobble in his voice.

Wayne smiles, giving Eddie's shoulders a soft squeeze, "a damn good kid with a big heart, who I hope knows how to apologize when it's needed".

"But what if you're wrong?"

"Then I'm wrong, and we'll get through it," Wayne tugs Eddie towards him without warning into a tight hug and reaches behind Eddie to press play on the cassette player; the sound of guitar and drums begin again as Ozzy's voice fills the room. 

'Your love for me has just got to be real

Before you know the way I'm going to feel--'

"But for the record kid, I don't think I am".

***

Eddie listens to the tape. 

He listens to it again and again, both sides. Steve filled both sides with music for him…

He lays on his bed while it plays, staring a hole into the ceiling as the last few piano notes ring out before the tape stops, filling the room with silence.

The songs don't all go with one another and out of a dozen there's about eight he knows. The other four seem to be a mixture of songs he's heard Steve play in the beemer with the kids, or while dancing in his kitchen with Robin.

it's not an expert mix by any means, but Steve did manage to collect a decent amount of metal songs just for Eddie and even a one he's never heard before --since when did Scorpions write love songs? 

After hours alone in his room, sitting on his bed, listening to Steve's tape over and over again, there is one thing he can't deny.

Steve Harrington has feelings for him…had feelings for him, and Eddie ruined it. 

He wants to take the version of himself that pushed Steve away and shake him. 

Eddie winces as he pictures the devastated expression on Steve's face when he left. His normally bright hazel eyes and wide goofy grin were left pinched with hurt.

Eddie had done that, taken six months of tentative friendship, of lingering glances and soft teasing smiles -how had he missed those, and tossed this delicate thing away from himself like it was nothing. 

He looks over at the glowing green hands of the clock by his bed. It’s nearly midnight; Dustin left a few hours ago now and Wayne is now at work. 

Eddie breathes out a sigh through his nose as a sudden wave of determination flows through him.

He looks towards the far wall by the door, his Sweetheart hanging up on her hooks. 

Dustin had apparently insisted on grabbing it, doubling back on a severely sprained ankle while Nancy tore a verbal strip off his back for wasting time as an unconscious Eddie slowly continued to bleed out in Steve's arms.

Eddie shivers, it had been so strange to consider everything that happened, or what he was told happened during the gap in his memory. 

Steve had been the one to carry him out while Robin and Nancy helped compress the worst of his wounds with torn fabric and left over gauze from the patch job they had done for Steve.

He vaguely remembers a string of words, a whispered sentence that made no sense as Eddie drifted in and out of consciousness but now…

'You can't do this, come on Munson, open those stupid beautiful eyes of yours, who's going to yell at us about the corruption of youth in America huh? We need you man, I-I….'

Eddie had really been so fucking clueless. 

He gets up from the bed and crosses to the wall, taking the guitar off the hooks. 

At least now, he has a plan.

***

It was a shit plan.

Cutting down the road the kids had taken to calling Mirkwood and through the woods by Loch Nora seemed pretty sound in theory, giving Eddie the element of surprise and hiding him from any watchful neighborhood eyes. 

What he had not taken into account, however, was the pitch darkness, the unfamiliar maze of trees he now found himself in, and how fucking heavy his portable amp was going to be.

Perfect.

Eddie stumbles over a fallen log, nearly careening into the mulch and rotting leaves of the forest floor. The half moon above him, not nearly enough to light his path through the thicket.

At least this version of the woods feels alive, Eddie thinks to himself; the smell of damp dirt and the sound of frogs and crickets singing in the darkness is infinitely more appealing than the strange forest they had found themselves in a mere six months prior. And with the gates finally sealed, the most dangerous thing he could come across would probably be a rattler or a coyote. 

Eddie peers around at the thought, he's not quite sure he's entirely comfortable even running into those animals anytime soon…especially the snake.

Finally, after another ten minutes of walking, warm yellow light begins to sift through the trees ahead of him as he brushes away low branches from his field of vision. 

Eddie hikes up the guitar strap higher up his shoulder and steps fully into the light that illuminates the Harrington backyard lawn and pool.

Eddie scans the back of the house, flipping the mental map of the Harrington home around to visualize which window was most likely to be for Steve's bedroom.

He steps further into the yard, setting down the heavy amp onto the concrete patio before leaning down to grab a handful of wood chips from the shrubs next to the house.

Here goes nothing.

Eddie tosses one of the pieces of wood at the window above him. 

It barely connects with the windowsill before dropping back down onto the patio with a muted clack. 

Oh this is humiliating.

He tries again and again to hit Steve's window with the wood chips in his hand, each one completely misses the target. One bounces into the eavestrough, another careens off the siding and back into the pool behind Eddie. 

"Fuck this," Eddie growls, throwing the rest of the wood chips back into the shrubs as he snatches the cord for his amp and shoves the plug into the nearest outdoor outlet. 

He turns the volume down slightly, the plan won't work if the cops get called on him immediately. 

Eddie takes the guitar off his back and plucks a few notes, adjusting one of the tuning keys until the sound is just right.

"Here goes nothing, come on Stevie," Eddie whispers as he begins to play. 

"I hear the ticking' of the clock, I'm lying here the room's pitch dark," he sings softly, strumming out the cords, it's slightly harsher than the piano but sue him, Eddie only managed to play it once through by ear at home before he left the house.

This was Steve's last track on the tape, and Eddie's sure he put it there for a reason.

He listened to the song again and again, slowly picking up the cords as he did so. 

He could do this, he picked up Master of Puppets in just a few weeks, Eddie could handle Heart.

Eddie keeps going, his voice carries over the yard, growing in volume; so much so that he misses the patio door slowly slide open and the sound of a pair of feet padding onto the patio. 

"What are you doing here?" Steve's voice calls out to Eddie from the door, he jumps, nearly dropping the guitar. His hand jolts on the strings as Eddie attempts to keep his hold on the instrument, letting the guitar scream for him.

Steve stares at him as Eddie unplugs the amp cord and swings the guitar around his back once more with shaking hands, his thoughts spinning, trying to figure out how to start.

"I listened to the tape," Eddie says softly, Steve cocks his head slightly to better hear him, his face shuttering as the words register.  

Eddie's heart races as he watches Steve begin to turn towards the patio door once more, he needs to act fast.

"And I need you to forgive me," he blurts out, louder than he intends, but Steve does pause with his hands on the door handle.

"Why's that?" He says sharply, dropping his hand away from the door, turning to fully face Eddie once more.

Eddie chews his lip nervously as Steve's gaze hardens the longer they stand in silence, his arms come up to wrap around his chest tightly.

"I thought you were playing a prank," Eddie sighs, saying it aloud makes him want to deflate, to walk right into the pool and sink to the bottom. 

If the look Steve gives him is any indication, Steve would be more than happy to watch him go.

"That's a lot of effort to put into a fucking prank Munson," Steve bites out, there is no heat to the words though. He just sounds tired, resigned.

Shit.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Eddie mumbles, he reaches up to scrub his hand over his face, missing the way Steve's face softens ever so slightly and his arms drop from the way they seem to be holding him together. 

"But I'm not going to make excuses," Eddie takes a step closer to Steve, his heart threatening to break through his ribcage the closer he gets, "I'm sorry for how I reacted and for thinking you could do something like that".

"I know you aren't like that, you're honest, and kind," Eddie reaches out and takes the tape from his back pocket and gestures towards Steve with it, "and so fucking thoughtful it makes me ache to think I ruined everything". 

He puts the tape back in his pocket, Steve’s eyes watch him curiously now as he does, it fills him with wary hope, enough to keep talking. 

"So, I need you to forgive me Steve, because I hope you'll let me make it up to you sweetheart".

Steve's face tips down suddenly towards his socked feet and the cold concrete patio, making it impossible for Eddie to make out his expression. He holds his breath as the silence stretches between them.

"Robin was right, you can be such an asshole," Steve says quietly, Eddie's chest tightens painfully at the words.

Eddie nods once,doing everything in his power to keep his face neutral but the downward curl of his lip is unstoppable as he reaches down to pick up the amp.

"But," Steve says, taking a step away from the door behind him, "as someone who was an asshole for a long time," Steve says quietly, pressing the palm of his hand into his chest, "I think it would be pretty hypocritical to not let you make it up to me".

He's grinning now. It’s small, barely stretching across Steve's freckled face, but it's warm and just for Eddie. 

"What did you have in mind, Sweetheart?" 

Steve is quiet for a moment, his eyes dart over Eddie's face before he finally whispers, "can you finish the song Eds?" 

"I think that can be arranged, " Eddie hums with a bright grin of his own. 

He swings the guitar off his back again, quickly plugging it into the amp. 

Eddie looks up to find Steve smiling softly at him as he takes a seat on one of the pool loungers. He pulls his legs up to rest his arms on his knees, basking in his own private concert. 

As the first pink and orange rays of sunrise begin to bloom on the horizon behind him, slowly painting Steve's face gold, Eddie can't help the relief that flows through him. 

He looks down at the shy grin Steve gives him, his hazel eyes bright in the new day's light, and thinks, 'holy shit, I almost missed this'.

"You don't know how long I have wanted, to touch your lips and hold you tight," he picks up where he left off, his voice mixing with the slow rhythm of the guitar, “you don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight--”

Eddie watches, surprised as Steve swiftly gets up from the lounger and walks towards him, his expression determined.

"I think that's my line," Steve whispers as he leans in to cup Eddie's face in his hands and kisses him.

Eddie short-circuits.

The kiss is chaste, short, not much more than the brief press of warm chapped lips against Eddie's own, but the way Steve lets his hands move from Eddie's face to his hair and neck, holding him in place. The way Steve steps into Eddie's space so all he can taste, smell, and feel is Steve.

It’s exhilarating.  

Steve pulls back slightly before placing a second kiss on Eddie's lips, his eyes half lidded and a deep red flush staines his cheeks and ears a bright red. Steve looks much more debauched than necessary and Eddie suddenly wishes they weren't outside, that he could take Steve into the house and show him exactly how sorry he is. 

"I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait, did you learn all of them or just that one?" Steve asks, his voice slightly breathy, he still hasn't let go of Eddie or stepped away.

"Just that one," Eddie repeats dumbly, feeling the urge to walk into the pool again as Steve laughs.

Oh Eddie loves that laugh.

“You sure,” Steve asks again, his eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiles widely, “I thought maybe you could show me some of the other songs you know, inside?”

Either he’s dreaming or Steve is a mind reader because holy shit.

Eddie nods, unable to even form the words as Steve reaches for the amp and gently takes it out of his hands. Steve transfers the amp to his right hand and takes Eddie’s now empty hand with his left as he leads him towards the patio door.

Eddie watches, transfixed, as Steve looks back to shoot him another warm smile as they step over the threshold of the back door, and the words his uncle said earlier in the evening come back to him as Steve leads him towards the living room. 

‘I think a person like that deserves at least a chance to know you, and to see what I see’.

Eddie halts his movement, grabbing Steve’s hand firmly in his own, pulling him backwards until Steve turns, his eyebrows furrowed in wary confusion.

“Thank you, for giving me another chance,” Eddie says softly. He lets the hand holding Steve's own move to trail up and down his arm, eliciting a shiver from Steve. 

“I mean, you gave me one, you came back right?” Steve says softly. 

Eddie's heart twists at the words, he feels his face fall slightly at the thought that Steve could ever think he was somehow at fault for this, “I was an idiot, that wasn’t your fault at all sweetheart”.

Steve looks at him again, his eyes scanning Eddie’s own for what feels like ages, his expression unreadable. 

“Co’mere,” he murmurs eventually, letting go of Eddie to sit on the couch. He pats the cushion beside him, with the same soft smile from earlier, “play some music for me”.

There’s more to unpack here, more to talk about, other apologies to whisper in this beautiful man's ear. 

But for now, he swings his guitar in front of him and slowly walks over to Steve.

Steve asked for music, and who is Eddie not to oblige?

@ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality @estrellami-1 @rlpersephone3259 @zaphodkilledthespeedforce @newtstabber @grtwdsmwhr @uwujinniee @anica-d @imzadidragonfly @orangeandthefairroadkill @starman-jpg @nabatute @goodolefashionedloverboi @wheatnoodle @novacorpsrecruit @lolawonsstuff @redlegumes @paintsplatteredandimperfect @scheodingers-muppet @thephantomhood @0o-queendean-o0 @blackholegladiator @nerdfighteratheart @hallucinatedjosten

(I hope I haven't forgotten anyone, thank you very much for following along with this little story everyone!)

[sawyerconfort]

i could be your girl, but would you love me if i ruled the world? | faith lehane x fem!reader

I'M BACK!

It's been so long, isn't it?

Anyway, life got so busy I couldn't even breathe this year.

But it's October, it's Halloween and it's BTVS SEASON!

Honestly, I've been obsessed with all the Buffyverse these days, and, honestly, I couldn't end Halloween and October without writing something about Faith.

So, that's why this blog is back, for one day.

No, requests are still closed. Sorry!

ENJOY!

(I just wanted to thank the two edits of Faith from Tik Tok that I saw with this song and that gave me the idea for this oneshot, last. Enjoy now!)

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

PROMPT: Nothing much, just you, a complete, bitter, hard-hearted, closed-minded slob falling in love with another bitter, hard-hearted, closed-minded slob - and just a little bit of a sense of humor.

***

Ah, the Bronze.

You went there whenever you needed to clear your head. Sunnydale was the calmest town in the world to live in, especially when you were a teenager in the throes of puberty and adrenaline, looking for nothing more than peace and quiet.

You went to the Bronze when you needed to breathe, which was almost always, even in a small and peaceful town like Sunnydale.

Aside from the problems with your parents, your house that seemed too small for someone as big as you, and your terrible grades in school, everything was going pretty well. You intimidated people enough, even in the small and cramped bar, to keep them far enough away from you, and you just looked for a table away from the crowd of colors and couples and smells and sensations to light a cigarette and put your feet up.

"A Mai Tai, Ricky, please," you would say, almost always, swearing that it would be your first and only glass until Ricky came with two, three more.

And then you lit a cigarette before heading home. And you avoided looking at the dance floor, or standing in line for the bathroom because you knew there were women and men looking right at you.

And you hated to reciprocate. You hated to think about the possibility of winning someone's heart in one night, and vice versa.

It was like that every night.

Except that one.

***

That story about vampires, dangerous creatures, vampire Slayers, it was all a lie. It couldn't be true. Adults believed it because it suited them, because they were legends spread from generation to generation.

But you were already a teenager. You were too old to even believe in Santa Claus, why believe in bloodsucking monsters that went after people? And in a girl who could, in fact, kill them all and save the day for at least… a hundred years?

It didn't make any sense. Those things didn't exist. At least, they shouldn't have.

And if they did, well, they didn't interfere with your quiet nighttime routine. Going to Bronze. Drinking a Mai Tai. Smoking like a troubled girl. It was the best thing in the world. No vampire could stop that.

But she could. And you just didn't know it when you noticed her doing her best on the dance floor, wrapping her arms around one of the girls sitting down and moving her hands awkwardly, all while drinking something you couldn't make out.

When you wrapped your arm around the chair and put the straw in your mouth to suck the last drop of Mai Tai, she looked at you. And her eyes kind of took you over completely, as if it were an electronic song with a strong beat that made your ears throb. Too bad it was only for two seconds. Because you looked away.

Your agreements with yourself were always the same. Don't get carried away, don't get attached, don't kill yourself. Just rebel, and live in the moment.

And you would do that, if it weren't for those curious eyes, from across the dance floor. Small, brown, with no sign of eyeliner. She wasn't a rebel, but that kind of troubled girl…

That style also took you over completely. You had to admit that the moment you noticed that little black blouse showing parts of her waist against the light and that shiny belt, she won your heart completely. Or almost completely.

Because you couldn't let yourself get carried away. First deal.

It was kind of impossible, because she was practically crawling towards you. As if your gaze had taken her in completely, too. She came in stealthy steps, while you tried to decide if she looked like a snake, a wolf or a fox in search of prey.

But since it was her nature to do that, the girl simply walked right past the table where you were and started chatting with a couple at the other table, next to yours, all the while with the glass swinging in her hand. A Mai Tai. Exactly like yours.

It wasn't on purpose. It was just a coincidence because you had just arrived. And you hadn't seen each other yet. She also didn't seem to be stalking you or anything like that, because, in truth, when your eyes met for the first time, the look she gave you was pure curiosity, and, unless she knew how to hide it well, you had never run into each other, not even in a small and peaceful town like Sunnydale.

You would know if she was stalking you. And maybe she was stalking you now, pretending to be sly, but not before.

Her gaze drifted to you when the two teenagers at the next table frowned at her exaggerated gestures, and you noticed that those eyes were browner than usual. And that you clearly weren't prepared for them.

"Drinking twin," she said innocently, looking down at her half-empty glass. There was a huskiness in her voice that you weren't prepared for either. Not that you expected a high-pitched, bad-girl-dressed preppy girl, but… whatever. Enough thinking about what you expected.

"Is that how you usually start a conversation with someone?" you asked, obviously making fun. And according to her personality, which you had built up in your head, she wouldn't be offended. And she wasn't.

She just laughed, muffled. And her white teeth took your breath away when they showed. Because she had a damn beautiful smile.

"You got me there," she whispered, raising her glass, but she didn't seem surprised, and she was still laughing. "I don't know how to start a conversation with someone, it's true. But in my defense, I also didn't know there was a formula, an instruction manual for starting a conversation with someone…"

"There isn't," you replied shortly. "And I'm not complaining. I was just surprised that you…"

You shrugged. Wow, what the hell happened to your train of thought just now?

"Okay, I get it. It's okay. I really think that was a stupid conversation starter, if you ask me…", she said, catching you off guard again. With her fingers running along the edge of the chair next to you, she looked at you curiously, pulling the chair back. "Can I?"

One of those classic cases where you couldn't say no. It would be too rude. And you were tough, but not to that extent. A little company wouldn't hurt. For one night.

Don't get attached. Rule number two. Shit.

Nodding, you lowered your head and sucked the rest of your Mai Tai, while she obviously didn't wait for a full answer and sat down next to you, positioning the glass so that it was practically glued to yours, or at least in the same field of vision.

"So, are you going to at least let me ask your name or are you going to say that my attempt at conversation is equally stupid too?", she asked, straight and direct, exactly as you imagined. And as you didn't expect.

"It's (Y\N). Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so rude if it did," you said, your voice low. She laughed in response, and shook her head. "And yours? Can I at least ask?"

"Lehane. Faith Lehane," she said, all enigmatic, and obviously, you knew it was supposed to make you really curious. And she was lucky that it really did. "You can ask anything, you just won't be guaranteed an answer."

You laughed. Damn, she really knew how to charm a girl. Or a person, anyway. You couldn't tell.

"I just came to Sunnydale, actually. Not that it interests you, but… I was looking for a less chaotic city. Until I found out that this place has vampires too. So, I guess I can start packing my bags and be a nomad again."

"Are you running away from vampires?" you asked, uselessly curious about the idea of ​​a girl who knew the legends. An outsider who knew the legends. And you thought they only existed in Sunnydale.

"Running away isn't the right word, I'm afraid. They should run away from me, according to my… well, they should run away from me, instead. But I just don't agree with anything that happens here. In my life, specifically. Nothing seems to…"

"… make sense?"

"Are you…?", she stopped, staring at you and making you a little more nervous and tense than before. And then, she shook her head. "No, you're not. She said there's only one in each corner. And if I'm here, you couldn't be here. Not active."

Drunk talk. Daydreams. That was all that was needed, really.

"What are you talking about?", you asked, confused.

"Doesn't matter," Faith shook her head, laughing. "Are you single?"

Wait, what? That's definitely a quick escalation.

"What?"

"Oh, you don't like other girls? I see."

"No, no, I just… got confused, what…?"

"Calm down, I just asked if you're single. It's no big deal. And it's also okay if you don't date other girls, it's just, like, I thought you were a little… too pretty and I just wanted to know if you could… like…"

You laughed. Of course. They all had the same excuse. There was no way out of this. It started like that, and then you'd pin them against the wall, and then you'd kiss them, and then you'd try to take their shirts off until you remembered that the rule was not to get attached. And then you'd just kick them out. Because there was no point in trying to be nice when you didn't need to anymore.

"… if I could make out with you?", you finished, again, still laughing. "Yeah, it's a good proposal, actually, but I really don't know if it's very safe. You seem too drunk for my bones and I don't want to cause any problems."

Faith seemed, at that moment, to be offended. She shook her head, frowning and downing the entire drink in one go, her eyes scrutinizing you like a predator.

"I wouldn't complain if you caused me trouble, babe, I mean it," she said, simply throwing the words out of her mouth. "I have an iron fist. And, truthfully, I don't get drunk that quickly. I'm just too happy, but it's not because of the drink."

It's because of you. Okay, that was really obvious. You should have guessed.

And you should have known you were breaking the rule if you accepted it.

She stretched in the chair next to yours, a movement even more deliberate because her black blouse had risen enough to leave you in contact with half of her exposed belly. And that shouldn't have turned you on like it did. Never. Not for a second.

You took a deep breath. You imagined yourself as a vampire drinking blood from its victims, and realized that it would be a horrible thing to do, as much as it was to think.

"We don't have to make out. I can just kiss you in a random corner, surrounded by people, no one will notice," Faith said determinedly. "And I'll control my hands enough so they don't touch you…"

Oh my God. What were you getting yourself into?

You didn't think, you didn't even have time to. It felt like something else was taking over you, and maybe it would have been easier to blame the Mai Tai because when you pressed Faith against the wall and started kissing her breathlessly and in a hurry, you completely lost consciousness.

***

The day after wasn't usually the worst. But that morning after in particular was terrifying for you because, with all that hangover, you were sure you would die if you took one more step.

But the hangover certainly wasn't the biggest problem.

You don't remember the aftermath of attacking Faith's lips at the Bronze. You only remember that, in flashes, you took her home, and she led you to the gate, made you stop your father's car on the porch and tried to pull the car door open for you to get out too. But you bravely, and maybe a little self-consciously, pushed her back and said that you hated rushing things.

But you had never said that. And you had never even been in a hurry to kiss any other girl you had been with, because there had never been an accidental lifting of her shirt in the middle of the kiss, or a silly touch on the other girl's soft, tanned skin, or the discovery of a strange scar on her belly that she quickly dismissed by shoving her tongue down your throat.

And you needed to stop thinking about Faith before things got worse for you. Because you had never thought so much about another girl before. The first, maybe the first girl you had ever kissed, outside of the Bronze…

But you were thirteen. And your head was full of apple punch, which you had drunk behind your parents' back at a Halloween party with your childhood friends. And you had just kissed a girl at Spin the Bottle. And while you were throwing up and being grounded for three weeks, all you could think about was this girl.

Luckily, she moved out the following year. And you stopped thinking.

As you brushed your teeth, drank coffee, said a dull and boring good morning to your parents and lit a cigarette in the backseat while your father sang Johnny Cash on the way to school, you couldn't stop thinking about Faith. And then, in Philosophy class, you started studying about faith and counterparts. And it only got worse for you.

And then you knew you couldn't stay like this. And that you needed to see her again. Even if it was just to punch that beautiful little face, look into those brown eyes one last time or see her mouth bleeding and dripping on those perfect lips that you kissed last night.

***

Agreement number three: don't kill yourself.

But it was kind of hard to keep a promise like that in Sunnydale. When things started to heat up again in the town, and the legends started to become reality, you had to deal with the fear of facing your skepticism.

A part buried inside your brain thought that was incredibly cool. The vampires running around, the thirst for blood, the hidden threat that could invade the place you were in and make you the victim. But the more rational part started to cultivate fear, trauma, apprehension, the idea of ​​the scary occult that you didn't know about.

Oh, come on, the last known Vampire Slayer had been killed. There was no one to protect your small, peaceful town now. Any self-respecting girl was terrified of leaving the house, because there was the horrible possibility of being the chosen one.

But there was no way. You even wanted to stay home, locked up, but your free spirit cried out to go out. And faced with a dark situation in which you couldn't stop thinking about a girl, the girl you had kissed to shut her up, you needed to get out.

Until you discovered that the smell of smoke possibly attracted strange, almost snake-like creatures, thirsty for blood and with huge teeth capable of piercing a person's neck.

Until you lit a cigarette and felt a chill down your spine instead of relief when you inhaled.

Until you were knocked to the ground by the deliberate voice and the grip of a hideous creature with huge teeth. A vampire. Good. This was your chance to change your destiny, which you didn't do, because, in truth, there was no chance of people being nice to you, not in this life, at least.

When he knocked you down and ran to grab you firmly behind the neck, you closed your eyes, expecting the worst. You wouldn't even feel the firmness of his fangs. Until he grunted, and fell. A shrill, hoarse scream echoed from afar, making you open your eyes:

"Pay attention, you son of a bitch!"

And then, Faith pulled you up, the rush imminent. You knew it was her because, in fact, the unmistakable smell had been in your mind for weeks. With a glance in her direction, you clearly saw the girl's gaze soften, and you smiled, relieved, a heavy sigh that was hard to escape.

"Are you okay? Did he bite you? Are you in pain?"

"Faith," you whispered. That was all you could say. You hugged her, laughing, and she hugged you back, after two seconds, tightening her arms around you, as if she was refusing to let go.

Then, as usual, she broke the hug, with a not-so-gentle pat on your chest. "You idiot! You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous! They're sending vampires from beyond to come after us. Answer my questions, at least, okay, idiot?"

You laughed. "Don't worry, babe, I'm fine. He was going to bite me, but you came along and… wow, you put a good stake in his chest."

"Actually, it's my dagger," she smiled, kneeling down and pulling the dagger out of the vampire's chest, as he disappeared and turned to dust in front of you. "Well, here's my secret. A Vampire Slayer. But you can interpret it however you want. I can be a Vigilante, that's all."

You huffed, shaking your head. And then, the words just spilled out of your throat again.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since that day at the Bronze. I'm not the same person anymore, Faith. I can't pretend anymore that I didn't get attached and that you didn't catch my attention from the beginning. I lied to myself for a long time about the other girls, but you…", you sighed, looking at her. "It was different. And all it took was for me to have a horrible near-death experience with an ugly creature like that to make sure of it."

"Oh, will you ever shut up, doll?", she teased, and pulled you by the waist for a desperate kiss, lowering the dagger until it fell to the floor again, and wrapping both arms around you, exactly as you imagined she would do. "I knew it… I knew it would make you change your mind. You look so much cuter without that bad girl pose."

"As if you knew anything about me, Faith."

"Oh, I know. Trust me. I've known you my whole life," she whispered, lost, before kissing you again. "I was just waiting for you to get to know me too. And then I could have you, all to myself, without all this arrogance."

"Shut up," you whispered.

And then she shut up. And you kissed all night. And maybe the next day, when she woke up in your bed and made you skip school for the first time. It was also the first day you accepted being bossed around by someone.

And somehow, that was what it was like to rule the world.

[karlachbrainrot]

In the Sunset

Wanted to add my mood board that I made for this too-

I've had this concept stuck in my head for a minute, and it's based off the song "The Night We Met". Just grabbing at emotions that I would be feeling if Karlach denied the pleas of Tav asking her to go to Avernus with them and went out in her blaze of glory.

Requests are still open for writing prompts 💕💕

Word Count: 477

Content: Karlach/GN! Tav, Second Person, Angst, Pain, Flash Fiction, Drabble, Dead Karlach, End of Act 3, Drinking

The letter sitting on the desk almost feels like a mockery.

An invitation… to reconvene with your companions… your friends- the people who have become your family, even across the miles. 

Only, there was one issue with that notion- not everyone would be there.

A slight hiss passes your lips as you take another drink from the blood red wine that has become your one aid in falling asleep in the past six months. It hurts to think about, she hurts to think about.

Karlach-

The woman that you had loved so deeply… but for such a short time- hells, you knew every moment with her was borrowed time. That she wasn’t going to be able to stay around forever, but you thought if- maybe if she just-

Why didn’t she just go to Avernus with you-

It feels like a stab to the heart everytime it crosses your mind, the pain flooding your senses like a tidal wave threatening to drown you in a sea of red. 

As you lay there watching the orange light of the setting sun ease your bedroom into all consuming darkness, you can’t help but think about that night… the night where you knew- that this woman would be the end of you.

Is it betrayal if you honored her wishes in the end-? You let her go, let her slip through your fingertips as she became the embers of dying light that kisses the horizon each night. A love letter to the heart you thought you’d lost.

Tears sting at your eyes once more, as the bed begins to call your name- begging you to rest rather than wallow in your own self-pity, and a sigh passes your lips as you fall back into the blankets. Cold. Everything’s fucking cold now.

You’d been heroes after all- saving the tieflings. Had done something right- and as her face crosses your mind, near glowing in the fires light, you knew spending the night with her had been the right thing too-

Karlach was so infectious- her laugh, the way she just seemed to be able to smile at everything. But when she smiled at you- Gods above. It was hard to think that anything else brought her any joy.

What you wouldn’t give to just go back- to that day- that night-

Even if you couldn’t touch her, just one night, one more night to hear her voice, to feel her warmth, to bask in her presence-

It’s almost comforting feeling the heat of your tears beginning to trail down your cheeks. Some semblance that although Karlach’s gone. Nothing, but dust in the wind. You know at least- the feelings are real. She was real, and for a good long moment.

She was yours, and you were hers. Somewhere in the moments between the sunset. You got the chance to love her.