#prompt fill tag

[5ivebyfive]

Prompt: "I’m a real adult, just last week I bought a vegetable." for Trimberly please!

Trini let herself into the house that she shared with her wife. Almost immediately, she tripped over a pair of shoes. Strewn around were three more pairs of shoes. Every single on belonging to her wife. She muttered under her breath and kicked them into a corner and out of the public walkway. "Babe, I'm home!" She called out. She dropped her briefcase into a nearby armchair and shed her jacket on top of it.

"Kim?" She unbuttoned her shirt more for comfort as she walked though the house. "You here?" She peeked into the living room and saw Kimberly flopped on the couch with an Xbox controller in her hands. She looked intense, mashing her buttons, red in the face. All around her were empty snack and candy packages and empty soda cans. "Kim." Nothing. "Kim."

"Oh, hey, Trin. When did you get here?" Kim asked, without looking away from the screen.

Trini rolled her eyes and huffed. "I texted you to order dinner. Did you?"

"Huh? I haven't checked my phone. I'm on a roll! Yeah!"

"Kimberly!" Trini's shoulders sagged. "I've had such a long day, I didn't feel like cooking."

"Aw, but I'm tired of take-out. We've been having it so much recently."

"Yeah, well I've been tired a lot recently," Trini argued. She sighed and walked out of the room and into the kitchen. There were dirty dishes everywhere. She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. She turned and walked back into the living room. "Couldn't you have washed your dishes? Or put them in the empty dishwasher?"

"No time, baby."

"Dammit, Kim!" Trini walked further into the room and stood between Kim and the TV. "Can you act like an adult for one second?"

"Hey! Hey! Move!" Some sounds played and Kim groaned. "I died. Thanks a lot. She cut her eyes up to Trini. "I am a real adult. Just last week I bought a vegetable!"

"You bought an eggplant, put googley eyes on it, called it Aubergine Nightshade Hart, and said it was our daughter. Then carried it around all week treating it like a baby!"

"Aubie was our baby! How can you speak about her like that?!"

"Yeah," Trini said dryly. "The baby I found starting to rot in the washing machine. Is that how you'd treat our real baby?"

"I lost her! She knows how sorry I am and I gave her a propel and loving funeral."

"Do you hear yourself?!"

"Do you?" Kim sat up. "Did you have a bad day? Cause if you're takig it out on me, I'd like to know."

"I just wish you would...help me," Trini said. "Clean up after yourself all day, order dinner when I don't want to cook...play less video games."

"What else do you want me to do all day? I get bored."

"I know," Trini sighed. "And we both agreed that my job could support us both, but..."

"But I'm being useless?" Kim kicked her blanket off and stood up. "Well, I feel useless!"

"I don't hate taking care of you," Trini said gently. "But I need you to take care of me some, too."

"I take care of you every night when we go to bed."

"Not that."

"Then what?"

"Maybe...you could get a part time job, just to give yourself something to do."

"I don't want a part time job!"

"You don't want a part time job, you get bored home alone all day, then what do you want?"

Kim stood up and started pacing. "I want...I want...I want a real kid."

Trini was stunned for a moment. "You...do?" Her brows wrinkled. "I know we've talked about that in the future, but...I didn't realize you're ready."

"I didn't realize it, either. But I do. I want a little guy or girl to play with all day. An awesome little friend that I can take to the park and playdates. Someone to call me Mama..." She stepped close to Trini. "I'm ready."

Trini set her hands to Kim's arms. "You barely take care of yourself when I'm not here. You're ready to take care of every need a kid could have?"

"Well, I'm not saying I wanna get pregnant and take care of a baby, but...a little older, yeah." She smiled softly. "Someone to make forts with, and...push on a swingset in our backyard...someone to help me make you cards for when you come home from a long day...hearing him or her call you Mami..." Kim brought her gaze. up to meet Trini's. "I want a family, Trin."

Trini gently ran her fingers through Kim's hair and behind her ear. "I think...I could be ready for that, too."

"Really?"

"Really."

Kim beamed and threw her arms around her wife and hugged her tightly. "I love you so much. I'm sorry I've been a pain."

"I have one condition," Trini said.

"What?"

"We are not, under any circumstances, naming our child Aubie."

"Deal!" Kim grinned and cupped Trini's face to pull her into a kiss. She paused before their lips met. "Did you know eggplants are actually berries?"

"Yes, dear," Trini replied. "You told me a hundred times last week." Kim giggled and kissed her.

"And, I have good news for you."

"What's that?"

"I still have pizza rolls, and I'm allowed to use the microwave, so I can make you dinner."

"Ooh, fancy," Trini said with a grin. "And wine?"

"All the wine you want, baby," Kim said huskily. "And then...maybe we can work on making that kid."

"Kim, that's really not how it wo-"

"Do you wanna have sex or not?"

"Well, there's a first for everything. May as well try, really really hard, to make our own kid."

[brknmachine]

ULTRATOBER 17-19 : DESIGN SWAP

[blackkatdraws2]

The Main Character.

[Blank Scripts AU]

[themeraldee]

Anywhere, you're mine

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 2.3k | Homelander x female!Reader | Exhibitionism. Mild dub-con but tagging just in case. Frottage. Overstimulation. Messy mixed POV.

Written for cozy corner kinktober prompt #2: Exhibitionism

It’s not the first time Homelander takes you flying but it’s the first time he has you questioning his intentions. 

It doesn’t feel like the first few times he’s flown you up and around New York. That time he was just excited to share his most celebrated superpower with you. Gathering you in his arms, slowly flying over the skyline, showing you a view nobody else gets to see.

This time there’s a tension in his jaw you’re unfamiliar with. As if he’s biting back from saying something or doing something too early. He still flies at a slower speed, knowing your human body isn’t capable of handling the speeds he considers leisurely.

He still holds you in a bridal carry. A carry he’s particularly fond of as he gets to hold you close and tight and you have no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck, seeking his warmth and support. Just how he likes it.

He slowly lands on top of one of the Chrysler building gargoyles. Presenting a view that adorns many postcards. It’s the all-too-familiar skyline that you already get to see from the floor to ceiling windows of his penthouse, but now you’re right in the middle of it.

“We’re here?” You ask, still holding tight onto him, unwilling to stand on your own feet. Just the thought of being one wrong move away from your demise has your stomach rolling with anxiety.

“Yup. What, not impressed?” He chuckles, retracting his arms from underneath your legs.

“That’s not—Wait wait wait! I’m gonna fall.” Your heart drops when you no longer feel his steel grip around you and you’re forced to stand your feet on the structure underneath you.

For a second that to you feels an eternity long you’re barely breathing or moving, getting the sense that any odd breath will make you fall off.

Heights aren’t usually an issue when you fly with him but suddenly being responsible for your own survival feels a lot more nerve wracking.

“You’re not gonna fall.” He turns you around, your back flush against his chest, his steel grip back around you again as his arm wraps around your middle, grounding you in that secure hold.

“There ya go. Come on now, don’t worry. You seriously think I’d let you fall?”

“No! Of course not. There’s just not a lot of space here.” You let out a nervous chuckle. Your voice quivers just like your legs do when you look down. Your feet are only a few inches away from the edge and instead of admiring the view in front of you, you’re laser focused on keeping them as far away from the ledge as possible.

“Well you better keep close then. Wouldn’t want anything to happen.” And like the asshole he is he shakes you in your place with his arm still securely wrapped around you. That doesn’t mean it stops you from shrieking loud and shrill at the feeling of losing the security you were just thinking of getting comfortable with.

If you were anywhere else, you’d be swatting him across the chest for his cruel move but here your legs feel like jelly and your lower body feels like it’s gotten off a theme park ride. Your gut is in knots and you only feel it untangle itself when he’s comfortingly rubbing the bare skin of your arm up and down all while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

With the warm summer day having just passed you’re still sporting the same dress Homelander gifted you, but with the drop in temperature in the late hours you already feel the goosebumps appear with each shiver. The cold leather just makes it worse as the goosebumps become more pronounced and you let out a full body shiver right against him. You would have changed if you had known about this impromptu night adventure but he scooped you up and set off into the night without as much as a word.

“It’s cold up here.” You look down at the bustling city still bursting with energy at this hour but little of its sound travels all the way up here.

“Hmm, don’t worry, I’m gonna warm you riiight up.” He rumbles right in your ear.

And before you question it he does. He unzips the side of your dress, leaving the zipper open where it ends by your hips. His gloved hand slides right in, getting a handful of your right breast. The shock of the cold leather on your skin is quickly replaced by the heat creeping up your body to the tips of your ears.

“Homelander! Wha-what the fuck?!”

“What’s the problem sweetheart? Look at that, you’re already warming up.” He hums and shoves his hand underneath the cup of your bra, moving it askew. The leather pinches around your nipple forcing a squeak out of you.

Just like that you feel like you’ve been put on display for the whole world to see. Your body may not be exposed but you doubt anyone wouldn’t be able to put two and two together and realise Homelander really just took you out here for some adult fun.

“P-people will see.” You say in a hushed whisper as if anyone could hear. All the potential onlookers are too far to see what’s going on yet you feel like you’re surrounded. The quiet hum of the city below suddenly feels overwhelmingly loud. Your eyes move back and forth between buildings, streets or windows as if your ordinary human eyes could make out anything but the lights dotting the skyline.

“Hmm, lucky them.” He sounds as smug as can be and you feel the tension he’s been carrying dissipate and if anything, transfer itself onto you. Your legs are shaking. Not from fear. Not from the chill in the air. The embarrassment has your body responding in ways you’re not used to.

“Ooor do you not think they'd be lucky to see you like this?” You feel his sharp grin against the soft skin of your neck as he’s messing with you. He’s nipping at it, kissing it sweetly, knowing exactly how to get you to melt into his embrace when he wants you to do things you’re reluctant to. He knows you’ll enjoy this. He’s doing it for you, really. With that he adds. "I know I feel pretty lucky."  

“We—ah—really shouldn’t be doing this.” You do your best to dissuade him from exposing you in public but he’s set on what he’s come here to do and you’re not one to easily say no to the man. 

“Babe, I can do whatever the fuck I want. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” He pulls his hand out from underneath your bra cup. Instead he pulls up the fabric of the back of your dress up, pinning the bunched up swell of it above your ass and in between both of your bodies.

Unable to resist he greedily squeezes your ass with the hand that’s not holding you stable, groaning into your neck. You feel his hot breath and the wet lick of his tongue when he draws a line from the base of your neck to your ear earning himself a delightful moan. It's those natural sounds you make that make him harder than anything else. When you squeak out your little whimpers and whines or when those pretty moans spill out freely from your lips it’s like you’re serenading him a song you wrote just for him. 

And fuck, he can’t wait any longer. 

His hand lands on the waistband of your underwear and he squeezes the dainty lace fabric in his fist. 

With a quick snap of his wrist he pulls at the fabric, ripping it off your body and throwing the tatters of it into the wind.

You yelp in shock, both of your hands landing on the arm he has wrapped around your middle as if clutching onto him for more support. You don’t try to catch the ruined panties when he throws them, caring for your life more than the embarrassment of some stranger stumbling across your ruined underwear once it lands somewhere in the city. 

It’s not that, neither it is the feeling of him rubbing up against you that makes you clutch your pearls. You usually only get to feel the hard shell of his suit anyway. No. It’s the familiar hiss of his zipper that beyond your comprehension invokes a pavlovian response in you, already wetting your cunt, rolling the heat from your gut straight to your throbbing clit. 

He can smell this change in you, inhaling deeply as if he finally got a breath of fresh air he’s been so desperate for.

“There’s my girl. I knew you’d enjoy this too.” You don’t have to turn around to know exactly what kind of pleased, self-assured face he’s pulling. You’ve seen it each time he’s introduced you to all the kinks of his you’ve ended up loving. Sometimes even more than him. It’s clear he’s hoping this to be another one.

You feel him pull out his cock, pushing it right against your ass. Albeit not new the feeling still makes you blush. Being out here, potential seen by anyone with a keen eye sends a strange thrill down your spine now that you’re not the only one who’s exposed.

While he’s got your mind occupied with the arousing feeling of his cock against your bare ass, he slips his hand down the front of your dress. He graciously keeps the front of you covered from too many prying eyes, though it’s not hard to tell what he’s doing when he squishes himself closer. His cock sitting warm and snug in between your cheeks, his head resting right on your shoulder and the hand he’s not holding you with is already toying with your clit in a way that has your knees buckle.

“Don’t stop, don’t ssstop.” You hiss with pleasure and for a moment you forget where you are and that the breeze comes from being 300 metres high in the air. The familiarity with which your body responds to him is comforting. You let yourself sing for him freely as he rubs your clit expertly, his teeth nipping at your ear when he’s not whispering how he wants you to cum for him. How he wants you to cum all while anyone can catch a glimpse of your unravelling. 

And with the precision of a man who’s spent many hours with his hand in between your legs he rubs you into an orgasm. The peak of it has your legs shaking to the point where he lifts you up a little, giving you the chance to really just relax into the way your body quivers and tingles from the mouth watering climax. 

And just when you think he’s happy and done after having debauched you for the whole world to see he puts you down, pulling his hand back, bending a little in the knees so he can slide his cock right in between your thighs.

The surprise of it strangely has you moving right against him rather than away. Your thoroughly soaked cunt finds its happy place right on top of his cock, coating the top of it with a generous amount of slick.

And just like you typically sing for Homelander, he has his own tune made just for you. He whines needily, not even trying to hold back as he pulls you closer. One hand on your hip, the other still securing you around your middle while he drags his hips back and forth, the wet slide of his cock deafeningly loud. 

His cock rubs the whole length of your cunt, the tip of it poking at the fabric of the front of your dress each time his hips are flush with yours.

The head of his cock catches on your clit with each slide, normally an incredibly pleasant and warm sensation but now it’s piercing hot as it stimulates your burning clit to lengths you’re not used to.

A whine breaks out past your lips in desperation.

“It’s too much, too much, p-uh-please, Homelander!” 

“Just a little longer, you can do it for me. Can’t you?” He sounds just as wrecked as you. His voice quivers, his thrusts stutter. You know he’s not gonna last long. A fact you’re partially grateful for as the force with which he douses your clit with furious friction is making you lose your mind.

You let out a little affirmative sound that resembles a sob and you let him use you how he seemed fit. The unrelenting pressure you can’t seem to escape is nothing you’ve ever been able to achieve yourself.

The novelty of it catches your body off guard and the burning feeling spreads all the way down your limbs as you orgasm on his cock, giving in to the intense sensation one more time. And while he can’t feel your cunt pulsating around his cock like he’s used to, he still feels you convulse and throb against him. 

Which is more than good enough for him to reach the finish line.

Once you collect your thoughts again you watch as he thrusts a few more times in between your thighs. His cockhead pushes against the fabric of the front of your dress each time, now wetting it with long dribbles of cum.

You watch as the fabric takes on a darker colour where it’s soaked in his cum. If you weren’t out of your mind with your own pleasure you might have reflected on the debauchery you just partook in but instead you blankly stare at the droplet of cum that lands on the surface you’re standing on. You’ve got half a mind to crouch and wipe it down with your already ruined dress but you don’t feel like tempting fate with a fall to your early death.

Surely the rain will get it. And at this point you couldn’t care less. All you want to do now is get flown back home and wrapped up in your hero's arms. 

And per usual, your hero is more than happy to oblige. Just like you’ll do anything for him, he does the same for you.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic):

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss

@hom3landr @mrsdesade @nommingonfood

[starflungwaddledee]

💘 happy valentine's day! 💘

[syndrossi]

It is raining where I live, and so I must tell you that I had a thought -- Jon is all healed up and is allowed to go to training, but it starts to rain, and Jon tries to insist they should keep training anyway (because battles don't stop just because it's raining!), but the adults insist they go inside so they don't catch a chill and Gods forbid get *sick*, and then he and Rhaegar somehow ending up playing a very wet, muddy game of tag with their guards. That is the entirety of my thought process. Enjoy. Hope you had a good birthdaaaaaay!

This was too fun not to write, so impromptu "prompt" fill! As you said, this would be some time after Jon's ribs and arm are fully healed, 4-6 weeks after the latest chapter.

x~x~x

"I am sorry, my princes, but it is your father's insistence that you not linger in the rain."

Jon met Ser Erryk's gaze, finding a quiet determination in it that told him there was no sense trying to convince him otherwise. He shot a dour look in the direction Ser Criston had gone, certain now that the man had sent for their Kingsguard after they’d defied his instructions to continue training on their own.

Aegon had happily fled for the warmth and shelter of the holdfast, though Aemond had chosen to remain with them after Ser Criston's departure. It was a cold rain that fell, heavy and steady, and the yard was already turning to mud. The conditions were not unlike the day he had fought Rhaegar at the Gates of the Moon until his brother's hands had bled, but Rhaegar seemed to be enjoying the challenge today. There was something wild and exciting about rain that eroded with the onset of adulthood, where damp and cold sank in far deeper.

"Very well," Jon said, retreating to the armory, where the three of them worked their way out of their padded armor, setting their training swords aside.

Ser Erryk waited for them outside, raindrops hitting his polished armor so rapidly that they formed streams rather than individual droplets, the bottom of his hair utterly soaked. He looked more than eager to be out of the cold downpour.

Jon looked out over the yard. Where two dozen knights had been drilling earlier, it was now an empty expanse of mud and puddles, wide and vast. He looked at Rhaegar then, cocking his head in invitation. His brother's eyes widened for a moment, shifting sideways toward Ser Erryk, then he gave a faint nod.

"We shall go with you," Jon said graciously. "But first you must catch us."

With that, he took off, Rhaegar splitting off eastward. A glance over his shoulder found Aemond staring after them in shock before he too ran from the Kingsguard. Mud squelched satisfying beneath Jon's feet as he flew across it, water splashing up the sides of his pants, spattering his tunic. Rhaegar's braid whipped behind him, as he too glanced back to see Ser Erryk's reaction.

The knight's expression was too distant to make out, but his shoulders fell briefly in what Jon assumed was something between misery and despair before squaring. Ser Erryk started into a trot, his white cloak twisting in on itself, already a muddied brown at the bottom.

Ser Erryk was a man in his prime, powerful and athletic, but his heavy armor did him no favors in an impromptu game of chase. His booted stomps sank in deep, pulling on each foot before releasing it, while the boys nearly glided across it. They ran circles around him, despite the man's best efforts, until he halted and let out a sharp whistle that was loud even against the dampening patter of rain on stone and mud and metal.

Nothing happened for a time, other than the knight slowing out of what Jon assumed was a desire to conserve his strength. That did not stop them from running freely through the mud. Aemond was chasing after Rhaegar, but his brother was too fleet-footed for the younger boy to catch him.

A flash of movement caught his eye, and another white-cloaked Kingsguard appeared at the edge of the yard. Jon squinted through the rain, blinking constant water from his lashes, and realized that Ser Erryk had summoned his brother for aid.

Perhaps it is their hope that twins can catch twins, Jon thought, amused.

They were clever, however, the Cargyll brothers. They hunted as a unit, as a pair of direwolves might, converging on Rhaegar and Aemond. Rhaegar made an abrupt turn, leaving Aemond off balance as he raced in the opposite direction, and the knights broke for the easier target. Their cousin was scooped up by one of the brothers, and carried out of the yard, where a third Kingsguard was watching from the shelter of an overhang. He clasped Aemond's shoulder, and began herding him inside.

The Cargyll twins returned to the yard, and Jon could see them sizing up the situation before deciding upon a course of action. He had expected them to go after Rhaegar, since they must know that Jon would go to his aid, but to his surprise, they turned on him instead. As Jon sprinted away from them, he saw Rhaegar sweep back toward him, trying to bait them after him instead.

That is what they were aiming for, Jon realized a split second before they abandoned their chase of him, turning to Rhaegar instead, whose momentum was still carrying him in their direction. Jon cursed, moving in an arc toward them, but he knew he would be too late. Instead, he scooped a heavy handful of mud and let out a scream of challenge. It was enough to cause Ser Arryk to slow briefly, turning to him in concern, giving him the perfect opportunity to let his projectile fly.

The mud hit Ser Arryk square in the face, spattering his helmet and filling the eye holes with mud. It was enough of a distraction to create an opening for Rhaegar to alter direction and evade Ser Erryk's pursuit. Ser Arryk struggled with his helmet for a moment, pulling it free and flinging it aside. Rhaegar joined Jon at his side.

"Combined assault?" his brother asked.

"No mercy," Jon said with a grin.

They flung mudball after mudball at the brothers. Some handfuls were too wet, falling to slopping pieces after only a few feet of flight, but others pelted their pursuers, until their cloaks were pure brown. The knights seemed reluctant to return fire on their charges, even though it was unlikely the mud would do any true damage to them, and the weight of their armor, heavier still with the water-logged padding beneath, fatigued them far quicker than he and Rhaegar.

I do not think either of them can catch us.

It was a strangely exhilarating thought. With their blood pounding and breaths heavy, the rain and cold could not touch them.

The two knights exchanged quiet words, then took up pursuit once more. Jon did not realize they were being herded in a particular direction until he caught a dark shape in the corner of his eye, along the edge of the yard. A tall figure vaulted over the low fencing, silver-blond hair trailing after him, and his arms closed around Jon in something between a hold and a hug.

Daemon, Jon recognized, just as his foot came down on his father’s. A yelp escaped him, and Jon leveraged the slick layer of mud coating him to duck out of the grip.

Rhaegar covered his escape with a pair of impressively accurate mudballs. The first caught Daemon right in the chest, and the other on the back of his head as he angled his body away from the assault, the mud plastering his hair instead. Jon shot a wary glance at their Kingsguard, but Sers Erryk and Arryk had slowed, pausing as though unsure whether to proceed with the chase now that Daemon had involved himself.

That left them with only Daemon to worry about. As he turned back to them, arms crossing over his muddy chest, Jon looked over to Rhaegar. “We take him down with us.”

They scooped up two handfuls each of mud and then sprinted at Daemon as one, roaring a battle cry as they lobbed mudballs at him. Their father dodged out of two, but he could not evade the other two, one catching him in the side and the other in the cheek. It left him just enough off balance that when they both slammed into him, they were able to drive him to the ground with a satisfying squelch as his backside hit first, and his back next.

His eyes were narrowed as he stared up at them, then his hands closed around their ankles, yanking them off their feet to join him on the ground.

“Now we match,” Rhaegar informed Daemon, his innocent look far less effective when half his face was coated in mud.

An arm hooked around each of them, and Daemon hauled them up with him as he stood. Jon was flung over one shoulder, and Rhaegar the other, Daemon’s mud-caked hair slapping wetly against their cheeks as he carried them across the yard, to the holdfast. Sers Arryk and Erryk fell into position behind him.

“Perhaps next time,” Jon said to them smugly.

He could almost hear Daemon’s frown. “It is your duty to follow the instructions of those sworn to protect you.”

“Just as you do?” Rhaegar asked, clearly referring to the past two times Daemon had slipped his own knights. The king had complained loudly about it, or else they would never have known.

They were set back down on their feet once they had reached the dry shelter of the holdfast, and Daemon’s hands came to rest on their heads as he leaned down to kiss each mud-streaked forehead. “Better than I do, unless you wish to break your father’s heart.” The words had the intended effect, both of them exchanging a guilty look that made Daemon nod in satisfaction. “Now let us return home, so that we can be clean and matching.”

[unicyclehippo]

Prompt: stumble

ok following on from the other one (regret)

//

a four-man band, all drums, had taken up residence inside her skull and her mouth tasted bad. really bad. something-crawled-in-there-and-died bad. licked-a-new-york-alleyway-floor bad.

kate groaned. lifted a hand to rub her gritty eyes and smacked herself in the face.

it stung. not the smack—well, okay, that stung a little—but the sluggishness of her body. it felt…

bad, her brain supplied, too hungover to go looking for a better word.

one of the band members started grinding coffee in her coffee machine, the noise like a drill in her ear, and—wait.

kate threw herself out of bed—don’t puke, bishop, hold it together, you got this babe—and grabbed up the closest weapon. she swung out of her bedroom and down the stairs to the landing with only a single stumble, readying to throw, when the blurry world resolved itself to blonde hair and a green coat.

‘uh,’ kate said, like a genius.

yelena turned and threw her an unimpressed look. ‘you did not even have bread, kate bishop.’

kate gulped. ‘what - how -‘

‘are you going to attack me after our girls night? with… what is that?’

kate glanced down at her chosen weapon. ‘it’s, um, a pet rock.’

‘pet rock,’ yelena repeated. ‘does it have a name?’

‘no.’

‘no? come now, kate bishop, we had so much fun. why do you lie to me? what is the name of your pet rock?’ she eyed kate knowingly. ‘it is like pizza dog, yes? tell me it is not rocky.’

kate scoffed. ‘of course not. it’s…’ her head gave an almighty throb. kate sighed. ‘yeah, fine, okay it’s rocky.’

‘kate, kate, kate,’ yelena tutted. ‘you are not so good with the names. it’s okay,’ she added, surprisingly nice, ‘you are good at other things.’

‘really? i mean, yeah, of course. um. but if you had to say what those things were…’

yelena only looked at her with a funny little smile and turned back to the coffee.

kate rubbed her eyes hard. curse her hangover! how was she supposed to keep up with a black widow if she couldn’t even get her eyes to focus up? okay. this called for a tactical retreat.

kate scurried back to her bedroom. she put rocky back on his toothpick chair and changed quickly—and definitely did not blush when she realised that yelena, who looked like she’d stepped fresh out of a catalogue, had seen her in a tank and boxers. she splashed water in her face and brushed her teeth, gargling mouthwash when toothpaste alone didn’t fix the disgusting taste in her mouth, and hurried back downstairs.

yelena was still there.

kate didn’t know why she was surprised but part of her thought that the other girl might have vanished in those two minutes. she was so pretty and mysterious and quiet that kate’s brain was having a hard time believing she was real and really in her scorched apartment. she hovered at the bottom of the stairs, watching yelena help herself to milk and mugs and anything else in her pantry and fiddled with the metal aglet on her tracksuit string.

‘coffee?’

‘um. sure. no—‘

‘cream or sugar. i know.’

‘…right. you were stalking me,’ kate muttered, more a reminder to herself than upset. ‘and you haven’t poisoned it? drugged it?’

yelena feigned offence. ‘why do you keep saying such things to me?’

keep saying? kate frowned.

it took a painful minute for her brain to dredge up memories of last night. right. the bar, grimy and grim. yelena, a bottle of vodka. watchful green eyes. the rest of the night was…hazy. kate itched all over.

what had happened last night? what had she said? done? her eyes dropped to yelena’s lips, folded in thought as she drizzled hot sauce across her plates, then further down. green coat and underneath, not yelena’s cool style at all (but of course she still pulled it off), a faded camp tee.

‘is that my shirt?’ kate asked, tone strangled. yelena nodded. ‘okay. um. why? what did—‘ she bit down on her tongue hard, forced a smile when yelena glanced up at her weird tone. ‘cool. that’s cool.’

she couldn’t just ask what happened. yelena would lie, because she could or because she thought it funny or because a girl like that came with a limited number of favours and kate had to have used them all up by now what with the not being killed and the information about—

‘you are panicking.’

‘no i’m not,’ kate snapped.

‘oh, my mistake. you are not panicking when you breathe very fast and your eyes go all—‘ yelena mimicked her, eyes wide and flicking all over the place. she laughed, then, shook her head. ‘yes, that is normal for you. sit, sit. drink your not poisoned coffee—‘

‘not reassuring.’

‘—and relax, kate bishop.’

sure. sure. breakfast with the…not enemy, maybe, but not really a friend.

kate sat gracelessly. her body hurt too much for grace. but the joke was on her because it actually turned out that if your body already hurt and then you slumped into a chair like a sack of forks, it hurt even more. even yelena winced when kate groaned and put a hand to her ribs.

‘drink. eat. this will fix you.’

she shoved a bowl across the table, a big bowl of cafe perfect scrambled eggs.

‘is that…chorizo crumbs? and scallions?’ the hot sauce went without mention. ‘where did you even get this stuff?’

‘it is new york. new york has everything.’ she shrugged. ‘i found a deli.’

‘that place down the block? pickles?’ yelena only shrugged again. ‘okay, i know you’re like, secretive or whatever but there’s gotta be a difference between mission stuff and where you went shopping.’ now yelena was fucking with her, kate knew, because she smirked and shrugged again. ‘whatever.’

she dug her fork into the eggs. light, beautifully cooked. hot. kate sucked in a noisy breath around her mouthful. she gasped and gulped and swallowed it down, still a bit too hot, and shovelled in another forkful when yelena smiled smugly at her. ow. hot.

‘it’s good,’ kate said when she’d finished half the bowl. good was honestly a major understatement but yelena already looked too smug.

‘i know. you are done? my turn.’

‘yeah, yeah, just lemme wash the fork, hold on.’ kate levered herself up—fuck her ribs fuck her back fuck that one weird spot on her knee she couldn’t even remember what did that—and hobbled to the sink. she washed it, and filled a glass for herself of water. ‘you want one?’ kate asked, glancing over her shoulder.

yelena was watching her. she nodded slowly.

kate hobbled back, two glasses and a clean fork in hand.

‘thank you.’

‘don’t mention it.���

kate sat more gingerly this time and, as yelena ate, found a way to sit that didn’t aggravate her aches and pains. much. her thoughts drifted—yelena, mom, kingpin throwing her around the room again and again, her mom sitting in a room with the guy, so comfortable, so familiar, a bruising hand around her throat, her shoulders. an empty room.

the eggs churned in her gut.

‘what happened last night?’ kate asked softly.

yelena talked with her mouth full. it was weirdly endearing. it was a relief when kate’s brain lingered on that, on yelena, rather than…everything else. she had a little bruise on her cheek. not from the slap, kate hoped. probably from something else kate had thrown at her.

‘well, let’s see, there was a gala and i hunted down clint barton. you got in my way. again.’

‘no, i know, i remember that. i mean, at the bar.’

‘ah.’ yelena dragged the tines of the fork between her lips. ‘i brought vodka. we drank.’

‘and came back here.’

‘yes.’ with a mocking smile, yelena asked, ‘what are you afraid of, kate bishop?’

kate’s teeth clenched tight. her jaw ached. her neck ached. she couldn’t just ask—but yelena already had the upper hand like forty times over. she relaxed and, impressively casually, said,

‘i don’t drink much. just wondered what i did. if i did anything stupid.’ she sent yelena a lopsided smile. ‘i mean, it’s me so, probably. right?’

yelena didn’t smile. face brutally blank, eyes brutally bright, she said,

‘you talked, kate bishop. quite a lot. and vomited on my shirt. i have taken the cost of it from your bank account. i took new shirt and slept on the couch. happy?’

‘mortified. sorry. or, i mean, thanks. you didn’t have to stay.’

stupid thing to say. yelena knew that already and it wasn’t like the assassin could be forced to do anything. kate’s skin itched. she felt hot all over.

‘it was a good night for me,’ yelena said after a moment.

kate blinked. brightened. ‘really?’

‘yes. you gave me clint barton’s number.’

‘fuck.’

yelena chuckled, the sound rich and low. ‘don’t worry, kate bishop, i will not kill him. we…talked.’

was it just kate, or did yelena look surprised? the expression vanished faster than kate could compute, fast enough that she doubted she’d even seen it.

yelena continued smoothly, pulling kate’s phone from her coat pocket.

‘he has been messaging you. he will be here any minute to collect you.’

‘wait - what?’

kate lunged for the phone, hungrily reading clint’s messages. he was a man of few words which, fine, kate could get used to that but more likely she’d badger him into using more words and messaging way more often.

(10:52) MY WIFE HAS INVITED YOU TO BARTON XMAS. PICK YOU UP TMRW.

(11:03) ARE YOU ALIVE

(07:40) IM COMING OVER. BE THERE IN 20

(07:42) YOU BETTER NOT BE DEAD, KATE.

kate glanced at the clock. 7:56.

‘oh my god, he’ll be here any minute. why didn’t you tell me!’

yelena scrunched up her nose and gestured to her phone like, there, i just did.

‘no but - and i have to pack and i smell like a bar rag -‘

‘much worse than that.’

‘thanks,’ kate hissed.

‘finally. manners. you are welcome, kate bishop, for getting you home safe and making breakfast.’

she said it extremely pointedly but that wasn’t unfair. it was very fair, actually. k

kate sunk down in her seat.

‘thanks. really. i…for getting me home. and for staying. this morning would have sucked if—just. thanks.’ kate swallowed all the extra words that pooled on her tongue.

yelena shrugged. stood sharply and carried her mug and bowl to the sink. she washed and dried them before kate could wrangle herself to say she didn’t have to do it, and leaned her hip against the sink, patting her hands dry. her assassin cuff things glinted under the kitchen light.

‘you’re leaving.’

yelena raised her brows. ‘i have no desire to see clint barton.’ the syllables of his name were crunched flat between her teeth.

‘oh. right. yeah, i mean, that makes sense. i get it.’ she did not get it, yelena’s chilly look said. ‘will i see you again?’

‘…perhaps.’

‘cool. i want that shirt back.’

//

clint buzzed the door when he arrived. he must have gotten caught in traffic because kate had enough time for a proper shower and to finish the coffee yelena made for her.

it was irritatingly good coffee.

‘hey—‘

‘yelena has your phone number,’ kate blurted. ‘i didn’t give it to her. i mean, she got it from me but it was an accident.’

clint narrowed his eyes. ‘she got you drunk.’

‘what?’ the word stretched out very long and very convincing. clint raised a brow. ‘maybe. fine, yes.’

he just sighed, scrubbed a hand over his short hair. ‘and that’s all she got?’

kate blinked. and swore. as clint drove them out of the city, she went through her phone and logged out of everything important—bank, bishop security—and made a note to change her passwords.

there was a new number in her contacts. no name, just a string of digits.

(08:16) no way that shirt cost 400 bucks

(08:16) more. i gave you friend discount, kate bishop.

despite herself, despite everything weighing heavy on her shoulders, despite her head full of her mothers sharp eyes and words, despite clint eyeing her curiously from the drivers seat, kate laughed.

[p1nkshield]

Part two of the prompt written by phantom-dc

I hope you enjoy!

Jason carefully picked up the core after Bruce left and looked over it, inspecting each and every inch.

“Thank you”

“So you can speak!” Jason said incredulously.

“Takes a lot” a small barely audible reply entered Jason’s mind. “But I will heal eventually.”

“Then rest up kid, only let me know if there’s something you need okay?”

“Okay”

Jason stayed in the manor carrying around this stone they got from patrol a few weeks ago. If he was not holding it was sitting on something soft within his reach and line of sight. His family grew more and more concerned as the weeks went by.

Tim began to preface the goals of the family meeting regarding Jason’s behavior.

“Okay it is clear to everyone here that ever since Jason got that weird rock on patrol he’s been acting different. I thought we could all corroborate our experiences”

Damian piped up “I saw him speaking to it as if it responded to him. He spoke to it and waited in turn” Damian then took some time to consider his words. “He then looked at me quizzically as if I were acting strange.”

Alfred then spoke as his brows knit together “I saw young master Jason with the old children’s book titled Mog’s birthday. I thought perhaps he was enjoying it for the sake of nostalgia as I used to read it to him when he was a child. I soon found myself mistaken. He was reading it aloud to this ‘core’”

“Has anyone noticed that when we discussed the organization behind this attack Jason just gets up and leaves?” Tim questioned

Dick nodded along with everyone “One more thing. He was singing to it. I haven’t heard him sing since…”

The rest went unsaid. Bruce needed to confront him. Perhaps this power source was more than he realized. If he had led his son to being mind controlled after everything that happened to him he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He had to get to the bottom of this quickly.

Jason made his way to the dinner table chatting idly with the core in tow.

“Hey kid, one thing to know about Alfred is that he’s the coolest guy you’ll ever meet, he was the one who got me into some of my favorite hobbies.”

“And my old man, usually is such a pain in the… uhh yeah, he never really trusts me with important things off the battlefield until he trusted me with you.”

A light laugh floated up from the core “I’m important?”

“Of course you are, you’re a kid! I may be a scary gunslinger but I still want to protect the innocent”

The core spoke again, this time softer.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome. You’ve been rather talkative today do you feel any better?”

“Yes! I might be able to”

“Jason, please sit down.” Bruce called out to him

Jason sat down a little annoyed since Bruce interrupted the child. looking at all the worried faces cooled his anger as Bruce began to speak.

“Jason have you noticed that your behavior has been significantly different as of late?”

“I mean yea but”

Before Jason could finish his sentence the core glowed with ice blue light and floated out of his reach.

“KID?!? TALK TO ME WHATS GOING ON?”

His answer came in a white haired glowing little boy in a black and white hazmat suit falling towards the ground, whom Jason caught easily.

This family of crime fighting detectives had never looked so surprised. Dick dropped his forkful of spaghetti onto his lap as he stared.

“What? I thought you knew!”

@hnymp

@apointlessbox

@asphyxia778

@runfromthemedic

@ectoradiation

@tired-yet-awaken

@meira-3919

@zelabee

@persephonerose96

@rubber-ducky-your-the-one

@bathildaburp

@autumnwulf

@xye-chan

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@everystarstorm

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@spider-lilly

@blackroserelina

@phoenixdemonqueen

@gin2212

@dannyphantomphan

@kyrianclawraith

@scribbiesan-main

@skyite

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@malice-of-the-sunrise

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@blazeart

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@osnii

@drowningroane

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@wordsgohere95

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@that-random-fandom-girl

@britcision

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@miki-meh

@simplykaren

[marthamaewhovier]

"does this happen a lot?" and buddietommy please 👀

lighten the load

buddietommy - rated g - 1.3k words

“Does this happen a lot?” Tommy knows the answer to that question, but he asks it anyway. It’s something to do that’s not just pacing around the hospital room for the millionth time.

Eddie sighs. Tommy forces himself to turn around and take in the expression that goes with it. Tired, resigned, but calm, the minimal amount of anxious someone can be when they’re waiting for someone to wake up after surgery.

And Tommy gets it, when he can come at it logically. For starters, Eddie was right there at Evan’s side when the floor had fallen out from beneath them, and could hold his hand while they waited for the team to arrange extraction. He got to assess him for himself, he got to see him alert and talking, okay in all the ways that mattered, only hurt in a way easily fixed with the piece of metal now holding his clavicle back together.

It was Tommy’s bad luck that he’d been on his own shift, out on a call that had left him miles away, completely in the dark that his men were in danger until he’d gotten back to Harbor to find a handful of missed calls and don’t panic texts from Eddie. By then Evan was already halfway through surgery, and by the time Tommy had managed to get to the hospital it was over, and Evan was already in a deep, morphine-induced sleep in a room.

“Define a lot,” is what Eddie finally says, which does nothing but set off another round of pacing. Eddie sighs again. “Tommy, come here, I can’t stand you pacing like that anymore,” he hooks his foot in the leg of the empty chair at his side and pulls it closer.

read on ao3

[draw-your-self-ship]

Time to go back to the classics. Self shippers, draw your self ship in a coffee shop AU! Who’s the barista and who’s a new customer? Does the barista have a friend/coworker that teases them for thinking the new customer is cute? Maybe the customer was dragged there by their own friend or even a sibling to check out the coffee shop with them?

Do NOT Interact: Pro//Ship, adults who ship with minors, and real people shippers

[wandixx]

I'm not much for naming things but: Danny's associated with green and M'gann's a White Martian, so... Spearmint (like the green and white mint candies)? Just a thought.

Prompt: Magic removed Amity Park from the map. JL didn't notice, but in an Alderaan type moment (Star Wars ref. yay!) The martian on Watchtower monitoring duty heard the residents get silent unanimously.

Of course they need to be investigated! So M'gann gets her watch partner to take over and flies there, discovering an odd green rift of death energy doing a black hole effect and it sucks her in. Danny gets landed on/ flown into when she tumbles through the rift. She tried getting a message through to JL when she felt herself getting sucked in, but the message was not received due to ectoplasmic interference.

So Danny has to figure out how to get her AND Amity Park back home!

(Just a thought. I'm curious how you flesh it out if you do!)

This is such an interesting idea, and it definitely deserves much more story than I can write in single prompt, so this here is just a beginning and I will continue. I hope it's up to your expectations

Also, I really love the Spearmint idea

*****

M’gann understood the importance of monitor duty in Watchtower, she really did. She also understood why they were taught it while still in this gray area between fully dependent sidekicks and fully independent heroes, that was the main reason the Young Justice Team even existed.

It didn’t make it any less boring. Even when she had a decent duty partner. Don't get her wrong, Green Arrow was a much better option than Batman or Superman, it was just awkward. At least he seemed equally done with it and didn't scold her for jumping between satellite cameras just a bit too fast to actually ‘monitor’ anything.

And it was only twenty minutes into the two hour shift.

One of the sixty (or so) screens, the one directly in front of her, blinked to the view of the American Midwest. She was about to skip further, when a sudden movement caught her attention. She clicked a few keys to review the footage and asked, still unsure if her eyes weren't deceiving her.

“Did the entire city… just disappear?“

Green Arrow nodded, equally stunned.

“I'm going to check this out” she spluttered, already flying out of the room and doing her best to get Zeta to send her as close as possible. It was a bit tricky when she couldn't see the keyboard. She managed though, so before the adult hero even finished yelling that it was above her skill level, she was out.

From there, getting to the disappeared city was a piece of cake.

She stopped right in tracks when the thing came in view. M'gann had no idea how to describe it. It was a green and white and black storm but not, glass, see-through dome but not, deep space but also decidedly not. It made her want to run away but also come closer, almost like it was tugging at her. Like some pseudo, mental in nature, gravitation.

Oh, wait, no. It was an actual, physical force that after a quick test turned out to be inescapable for her.

Green Arrow, perhaps, maybe probably was kinda right. It was so high above her skill level that a balled napkin from this height would cause serious damage. Thank Batman for comms that she could use to call a backup!

The comms, that, of course, didn't work the one time she needed them.

She sent the message anyway, describing everything to the best of her ability, even though it was only a tip of the iceberg. Just in case, if the magical storm thing just made her comm one way communication only. It was highly unlikely, but who was she, if not an optimist.

She barely closed her mouth, when she was jerked sideways before the whole world became blurred.

She later would have a hard time telling anyone how it felt, to be inside the thing. She was basically powerless, thrown around randomly despite clearly keeping all of her abilities. She couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up and down, couldn't change direction even a little bit. The rumble of the thing was so loud she couldn't hear her thoughts, throwing her brain so off the loop she forgot what her name was. She was crying probably, almost puking, her limbs hitting any and every part of her body.

At first, she didn't even realize she was out, so dazed from the ride. She didn't even see the flying boy until a while after she crashed into him, throwing them both off the sky. Neither of them caught them before they slammed into the ground. Somehow she ended up cushioning the boy's fall. M’gann couldn’t breathe for a moment. She kinda deserved it for ramming into him in the first place though.

By the time she could use her lungs and behave like a social creature again, the boy scrambled off her and just crouched, intensely staring, anxious and awestruck at the same time. She sat up and gave him once over herself.

He was around her physical age, but much skinnier than her or anybofnher teammates, build like a twig. He had fluffy, white, almost glowing hair, caucasian complexion, and wore a black and white jumpsuit with a tool belt. Big ‘P’ on his chest indicated he was someone from a hero/villain scene, and from general vibes she got, M’gann was leaning towards a hero. He was kinda cute. She coughed awkwardly when she realized how long they just sat in silence.

“Hi?”

Apparently it was enough to release an incoherent babbling from the boy.

“Hi, um… Miss Martian, ma'am? I'm Phantom. What are you doing here? Is the rest of your Team going to fall off the sky too? Justice League?”

“Not right now probably”

She was ignored. Phantom just kept panicking.

“Is this some of your villain's schemes? Are you alright? You crashed pretty hard, sorry I landed on top of you by the way, do you–?”

“I'm fine, don't worry I got worse”

“Sure…”

“Sorry I threw you off the sky”

“Not your fault, really, it's fi–”

“You asked what I'm doing here. I went on my own to investigate when I saw the city blink out of existence and got sucked in. I'm not sure if my report from site made it through, but they know where I went, so they'll soon come to help, don't worry”

Phantom did not stop worrying.

“Alright, cool, cool” he ran his hand through his hair, tugging at them “The Justice League knows you mysteriously disappeared along with an entire city. This is fine, totally fine, absolutely–”

“You're panicking”

“No shit Sherlock. Someone kidnapped my city again and I have no idea how to fix it because my usual tactic is ‘punch the cause of the problem into submission’ and this time I can't punch the storm. Now you're here so if something happens, I’ll have pissed of Justice League to worry about because, of course, it will be my fault. You could be overshadowed and I have no clue what's going on but I have to fix it as soon as–”

“Breathe Phantom“ she interrupted again, projecting what the Team called ‘calming vibes’. Since it didn't involve outright entering someone's brain and humans almost didn't react to it, it was an okay thing to do without asking even on non-villains. “Remember, I'm a hero, not a damsel in the distress you have to protect non stop”

“Of course, you're not. You're Miss Martian. You're amazing, but it doesn't give me any more of an idea on what's going on nor what to do with Justice League when they come, obviously furious because everyone in Amity and their mother will testify that it was somehow my fault, especially if–”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I know you're a good guy and they’ll too. I will vouch for you if for some reason they get misled”

Phantom looked her in the eyes as if he was trying to read her mind himself without even an ounce of psychic powers. She could tell if he used it.

“I could be a bad guy,” he said seriously after a moment of silence.

“I know you're not”

“You don't know me”

“You spent almost all of our interaction agonizing over how to save your city. It's not typical bad guy behavior”

“I could be acting”

M’gann didn't even dignify it with her response other than an incredulous stare.

“ Alright, if I've been acting, I would be a lot cooler but still… I could be acting!”

“I'm a literal psychic, remember? I didn't read your thoughts, don't worry, I know it's invasive for humans. But I got a general overview of who you are, and your vibes matched pretty well with the vibes of good guys”

“Sure, of course, why not,” he muttered, taking a moment to reboot “Why is this my life now?”

M’gann decided it wasn't to her and well… Phantom wasn't wrong, she didn't know him, so however she'd try to answer it was pretty much hit or miss. But from what she'd seen of him, she was curious to learn more.

“Nevermind, let's get you a Specter Deflector before anyone tries to use you as a meatsuit” he said, catching her wrist to drag her somewhere.

She let him lead her. He still didn’t have any nefarious reasoning, and hey! Maybe she'll finish this adventure with a new teammate!

[Sure M’gann. Just a teammate. Don't worry, Danny won't be a panicked mess all of the time here]

[5ivebyfive]

— “you’re so warm. how are you this warm?”

Trimberly with Trini like 'what are you, a space heater, Kim?' and Kim being like 'I'm just hot for you'

Trini snuggled under Kim's arm and pressed her face into Kim's neck. They had both had a long couple of weeks with finals, and it felt like Trini had hardly seen Kim. Trini sighed contentedly and murmured, "You're so warm. How are you this warm?" She kissed the side of Kim's neck. "What are you, a space heater?" She felt Kim's throaty chuckle.

"I'm just hot for you," Kim said smoothly.

"No, seriously," Trini said, she lifted her head. "You're really warm." She reached out and put the back of her hand to Kim's forehead. "Princess, I think you have a fever."

"You give me fever, when you kiss me. Fever when you hold me tight," Kim sang.

"Kim." Trini said flatly. She sat up. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," Kim insisted. "It's just hot in here."

"It is not. The AC is on." Trini felt Kim's forehead again, then her cheeks. "I really think you have a fever. Let me get the thermometer."

"Nooo," KIm whined. "I had big plans for us tonight."

"And your body has other plans," Trini argued. She got up and went into the bathroom to dig around for her thermometer, then brought it back to her bed. She sat next to Kim and held it out. "Open your mouth." Kim did, and Trini shoved the thermometer under Kim's tongue. "Close your mouth." Kim did. Then tried to talk.

"You're gonna be wrong, then we're gonna get it on," Kim mumbled through the plastic. Trini rolled her eyes.

"You wanna get me sick, too?" When the thermometer beeped, she took it from Kim's mouth and read the display. "100.02," she said. "It's high, but not bad enough to take you to the ER."

"But Trini," Kim whined again. "I feel fine. Please, can we get naked?"

"It might be a good idea to cool you off more, but you're not gettin' me naked when you're feelin' like this," Trini said. She helped Kim off with her t-shirt and tossed it aside.

"You really think you can resist me like this?" Kim asked.

"I'll try," Trini dead-panned. "I'm gonna make you tea and soup. I'll be back."

"If you really loved me, you'd want to get sick for me."

"I do love you," Trini said. "So I'm gonna take care of you."

"Like...spoil me?"

"If I have to."

"Then...ohhh, I feel horrible." She threw her arm over her forehead dramatically.

"I bet," Trini snorted. She kissed Kim's cheek and got up. "Now, chicken noodle or chicken barley?"

"Noodle."

"You got it." Trini went into the kitchen and pulled a can down. She'd make homemade soup tomorrow when she had more time, but the canned stuff worked for now. She heated it up on the stove and set the kettle on. When it was all ready, she carried it back to bed on a tray with crackers. When she approached the bed, she found Kim fast asleep. She smiled. She set the tray at the foot of the bed and went back into the bathroom. She wet a cloth with cold water and crawled back into bed beside her girlfriend. Resting a hand under her head, she gently wiped at Kim's brow with the cold cloth and swept up the sweat.

It wasn't the first time she had taken care of an ill Kim, and Kim wasn't the easiest patient, but she loved doing so. She loved Kim. She thought about the ring that hid in her desk, and she smiled. She couldn't wait for graduation day, just around the corner, to offer it to Kim with her proposal. She was ready to take care of Kim's illnesses for the rest of their lives, and she knew Kim was, too.

[andrew-rannells-mustache]

I made a quiz for my @theterrorbingo prompt square “bilge water” (it’s relevant I promise) have fun and let me know who you get in the tags!!

[fiona-fififi]

Please may I have "Your hands are warm."?

Picture me asking like this btw

Well, this took me absolutely forever, but here's a silly little something that is basically just exclusively Buckley-Diaz family fluff. I know this probably is not what you had in mind, but this is where it took me. Hopefully, it's something. 💚

—

Title: Warmth

Rating: G

Fandom: 9-1-1

Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Summary: A tiny little fluffy snapshot of a Buckley-Diaz family camping trip and a chilly night out by the campfire. (Just fyi, the whole camping thing is mostly just vibes, I never actually really incorporated it in any significant way.)

Notes: The prompt "Your hands are warm" is from this list of Dialogue and “Scenario” Prompts.

Buckley-Diaz family, established relationship, fluff, ficlet, prompt fill

—

Read on Ao3

—

“Mmm, stay?” Eddie requests, snuggling down into the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and nuzzling into Buck's touch. “Your hands are warm.”

Buck chuckles at that, shifting his hands from Eddie's neck to cup his jaw and tilt his chin back gently, leaning over until they're practically nose to nose. “Don't you think maybe it's time to head inside? You're freezing.”

“Can't,” Eddie teases, grinning up at him with that silly smile Buck adores, “Chris isn't ready to head in yet.”

“Do not drag me into this,” Christopher argues from his spot by the fire. When Buck glances up at him, he is very obviously avoiding even a glance in their direction, and Buck can't help but snort a laugh.

“Your excuse just sold you out,” Buck teases, fingers still against Eddie's jaw. Eddie grins, big and goofy, and Buck can't help but tilt his chin back a little further until he can press a kiss to that pretty mouth.

“Mmm,” Eddie murmurs through a grin as they part, lips so close they brush Buck's as he speaks, “your lips are warm, too.” Buck huffs a laugh against Eddie's mouth at that as Eddie's grin grows and Buck tries to turn it back into a kiss, even as they both succumb to ridiculous giggles. 

“Ew.” Christopher's voice breaks their spell, the disgust dripping from his tone written all over his face in the scrunch of his nose and the grimace of his mouth. “NO.” He commands, as he launches a marshmallow at Eddie's head in response to their sappy display. It nails him directly in the nose, bouncing off both of them before it falls to their feet.

Eddie and Buck both only manage to dissolve into further giggles in response, Buck's shoulders shaking enough that he has to bury his face in the crook of Eddie's neck to keep himself upright. 

Christopher groans in annoyance and rolls his eyes. “Next time, I'm staying home,” he threatens, with a shake of his head, before he busies himself loading another marshmallow onto the roasting stick in his hand.

Buck barks a laugh at that, forever charmed by Christopher's teasing. “Oh, please, you're having a ball,” he counters, all smiles and red cheeks from some combination of the chill in the air and the warmth in his chest.

“I was until you started making out in front of my marshmallows,” Christopher shoots back, face serious as stone.

Buck full-body cackles in response, throwing his head back and straightening up in the process, and Christopher's face breaks into a grin at that.

Eddie grumbles, Buck's warmth suddenly too far away, and tugs at his arms to bring him closer again. Buck grins, a big, happy smile that stretches wide as he lets Eddie guide him back until he's draped over Eddie's shoulders, and Eddie's wrapping Buck's arms up under the blanket he's still cozied up under. Buck gives him a squeeze, and Eddie lets a hand grip tight to Buck's forearm, leaning back into him with a pleasant shiver. Buck presses a surreptitious little kiss to Eddie's temple, soft smile still dancing on his mouth. 

“Okay, kid,” Buck announces after a few pleasant moments of quiet snuggling, keeping himself draped around Eddie, “finish that one up, and then it's time to head inside. Don't want your dad to freeze.”

Christopher gives him a side eye, but he's very clearly trying to hide a grin, and Buck can't help the way his heart swells at just how well they all fit. He's not sure he'll ever get over just how much happiness their little family brings him.

Eddie, always the mind reader, squeezes his arm again to draw his attention, and when Buck shifts to meet his gaze, Eddie is giving him that soft smile Buck loves so much. “I love you,” Eddie mouths, barely any sound to avoid a scolding from Christopher, and Buck's own smile turns soft again for Eddie as he leans in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Love you, too,” Buck promises, whisper quiet, nuzzling back into Eddie's warmth as they watch Christopher continue to pretend to ignore them.

Buck's not sure he's ever been happier. 

—

[gilbirda]

For the prompt thing?

Jason has spent the last year trying to keep his brothers from finding out he needs reading glasses.

*taps mic* Uhhhhhh, anybody there?

heheh..... Yeah, took me a while, but here you go

----

“Huh, I didn’t know B changed his glasses.”

“He uses glasses?”

“Yeah, to read.”

“I didn’t know?”

Dick chuckled, the sound getting closer to a strangled chicken. “B is getting old, but don’t say it in front of him.”

Tim smiled, storing the piece of information next to the rest of blackmail material he always had on hand. It was moments like these when Dick was glad his little brother was on this side of justice.

“So these are his? Weird place to forget them.”

True. They were in the Manor, but it was an unspoken agreement that the library was Jason’s territory. Everyone would come and go, but this particular part with the cozy sofa and Wonder Woman blankets was Jason’s corner.

Dick opened his mouth to make a comment about it, but rushed and heavy footsteps interrupted his thoughts.

Jason’s face was red as he walked between his brothers, picked up the glasses, and turned to leave. 

“No fucking comment.” He threw over his shoulder, his boots stomping on his way out.

Dick and Tim looked at each other, making the split second decision to follow the quickly retreating figure of Jason making a swift exit.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tim ran so he could block Jason’s way out. “You need glasses?”

“I do not.”

Dick looked down at the fist circled around the cute round metal frame glasses. “Looks to me that those are yours.”

“They aren’t. Roy forgot them here.”

Jason was a good liar, but even that was one of his worst attempts.

“Sure. In your comfy corner.”

“Don’t call it that.” He growled.

Dick and Tim looked at each other, smirking. Forget blackmail, this was going to the family group chat.

----

Great art of Jason with glasses!

[dizzybizz]

day 4 is reach and naturally my brain reached for an arkco moment...