#send me your prompts

[rockonlavender]

Sq prompt: Emma forgot to give that shirt back in season 1 and find it again years later. She decides to wear it again just to troll Regina. Regina's reaction is not what she expected...

Hello anon! I want to apologies for completing this prompt late but better late than never. I will be posting this story on ao3 as well, just need to come up with a title for it. So any suggestions is appreciated. Thank you to my beta @bytherosebushlaughing for her work! Enjoy!

Trigger warnings: none that I’m aware but if there is please let me know!

xxxx

If I had it my way, I would take the lead

And if I had it my way, I would take you deep

If my body had a say, I'd get it off my chest

Show you all the red lace underneath this dress

Emma shuffled through her closet, her fingers skimming over the array of tops hanging on the rod. Typically, she didn't fuss much about her wardrobe choices, but this morning felt different. She wanted to put in a little more effort to find the perfect top to pair with her black jeans and boots.

Frustration flickered across her features as she scanned through the various options, each one failing to meet her standards. But then, tucked away in the back of her closet, she spotted a hanger wrapped in a thin, clear plastic garment bag. A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she remembered exactly what lay within.

Carefully, she unzipped the bag and pulled out the blue silk blouse that had been stolen from Regina's closet by Henry almost three years ago. It was a thoughtful gesture from her son, who had taken it for Emma to wear after she had spilled hot chocolate on her original top. Emma had intended to return it to Regina once it was ready, but amidst the chaos of the curse being broken and new threats arising, the task had slipped her mind.

With the blouse now gracing her frame, Emma swiftly slipped it on, skillfully buttoning it up while leaving the top three buttons undone for a casual yet stylish touch. She tucked the blouse into her jeans and pulled it out slightly, perfecting the effortlessly chic look.

Stepping in front of her full-size mirror beside the bedroom door, Emma smoothed down her Sheffield badge on her jeans, ensuring every detail was just right.

For her hairstyle, Emma opted for a ponytail with a twist. Gathering her hair into a ponytail, she left a section loose to create a side braid before incorporating it into the rest of her hair. The result was a playful yet elegant look, with her curls bouncing at the ends of her ponytail.

Taking one last glance in the mirror, Emma couldn't help but smile at her reflection.

It was noon when Emma strode into Granny's, the familiar scent of home-cooked meals enveloping her as she made her way to retrieve her and the mayor's lunch. She had placed the order ahead of time, a routine they had established to make their busy days a little easier.

Greeting Ruby with a warm smile, Emma exchanged pleasantries with the young waitress, who had become a close friend over time. They chatted about their day and their plans for the upcoming weekend, Ruby's excitement palpable as she mentioned the fair that was happening over the weekend.

Emma nodded along, understanding the significance of the event for the townsfolk. The fair, announced by the Madam Mayor herself a couple of months ago, was a rare treat for Storybrooke, offering modern-day fair rides and attractions. While Emma didn't find the fair particularly thrilling, she looked forward to experiencing it with Henry.

As Emma stepped out of Granny's, the midday sun cast a warm glow over the quaint streets of Storybrooke. She approached her beloved yellow bug parked just outside the diner, she unlocked the door and settled into the driver's seat, the worn leather embracing her like an old friend. As she started the engine and pulled away from the curb, the gentle hum of the car filled the air, carrying her towards the next stop.

Regina's eyes lifted from her work at the soft knock on her door.

"Yes?" she called out, her voice tinged with curiosity, though her attention was fully captured when the door opened and closed swiftly. "Miss Swan—" she began, only to be interrupted by Emma's entrance.

"Madam Mayor, I figured you could use a lunch break," Emma interjected, holding up a takeout bag from Granny's with a warm smile.

Regina closed her laptop with a soft click before rising to her feet, her movements graceful yet deliberate. She rounded her large desk, her gaze fixed firmly on Emma as she approached.

"While I do appreciate the meal, Miss Swan," she began, her voice measured but tinged with curiosity, "Care to explain why you still have my blouse?"

Standing in front of Emma, Regina's dark eyes bore into the green pair opposite her, a silent challenge hanging in the air between them.

Emma shrugged.

“Honestly, I had forgotten all about it. I meant to return after it was done at the cleaners but the curse broke and well…shit hit the fan after that.”

Regina's lips curled into a subtle, sly grin as she regarded Emma.

"I see," she purred softly. Her gaze drifted briefly to the open buttons on Emma's blouse before returning to meet her eyes. "Well, I suppose we've both had our share of distractions." She extended her hand gracefully, her fingers lightly brushing against Emma's as she gestured towards the takeout bag. "Thank you for the lunch, regardless," she added, her voice low and husky.

The takeout bag found itself placed on top of the desk as Regina's fingers grazed Emma's, a jolt of electricity surged through her body, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't ignore.

Her heart raced in her chest, the pounding of its rhythm echoing in her ears like a drumbeat. Heat surged from the depths of her core, spreading through her veins like wildfire, leaving her breathless and undone.

Emma swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she struggled to form coherent words. "Y-you’re welcome," she managed, her breath hitching in her throat.

The intensity of Regina's presence was overwhelming, leaving her dizzy with desire.

Regina's eyes held a smoldering intensity as she sensed Emma's reaction. The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension.

Regina's fingers trailed along the delicate fabric of the blouse, savoring the sensation as she pulled it out of Emma's pants. The silk felt cool and smooth against her skin, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"Now, Emma," Regina began, her voice low and sultry. "About this blouse..."

She held the garment up between them, her eyes locking with Emma's as she let the implications hang in the air.

Emma's breath hitched as Regina's lips brushed against her ear, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins. She felt herself being drawn closer, her hands instinctively finding their place on Regina's hips, anchoring her against the older woman's warm body.

"As much as I think you look decent in this top," Regina murmured against Emma's ear, "I have to say, Miss Swan, it looks much better on you when it's off and on the floor."

A soft moan escaped Emma's lips as Regina's words sent a shiver down her spine. The sensation of Regina's warm breath against her skin sent chills racing through her body, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't ignore.

Regina's fingers moved deftly, undoing the buttons of Emma's blouse with deliberate slowness, each one revealing more of her bare skin underneath. Emma's breath caught in her throat as Regina's touch sent shivers down her spine, her body trembling with anticipation.

"Is that so, Madam Mayor?" Emma's voice was barely a whisper, her lips hovering just inches from Regina's as she leaned in, her heart pounding in her chest.

Regina's dark eyes smoldered with desire as she met Emma's gaze, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips. Without a word, she continued to undress Emma with her eyes, her touch igniting a fire within her.

As the last button came undone, Emma's blouse fell open, revealing her soft, milky skin to Regina's hungry gaze. A low moan escaped Emma's lips as Regina's fingers trailed lightly over her exposed flesh, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Regina felt herself come undone, her fingertips tracing the smoothness of Emma's skin with reverence.

The sensation was like velvet against her touch, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't deny. Goosebumps rose on Emma's milky skin with every gentle caress, her abs rippling beneath Regina's touch, tempting her to explore further.

The desire to taste Emma's skin was overwhelming, the need to feel her warmth against her lips almost unbearable. Regina leaned in closer, her breath mingling with Emma's as she hovered just inches away, her lips tantalizingly close to Emma's exposed flesh.

With a hungry look in her eyes, Regina whispered softly, "You have no idea how much I want to taste you."

Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with longing and desire as she fought to control the urge to devour Emma whole.

“Gina, you can't say things like that..." Emma's voice was barely a whisper, her lips tantalizingly close to Regina's, the heat of their breath mingling in the space between them.

Regina's heart raced at the sound of Emma's voice, her breath hitching in anticipation as their lips drew closer. The air crackled with tension, each word a silent plea for more.

She leaned in closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull of Emma's presence.

Regina's voice trembled with a mixture of authority and vulnerability, her words a whispered plea that hung heavy in the air. Her eyes were fixed on Emma's soft pink lips, her desire evident in the way her hands fumbled with Emma's jeans.

"Emma, don't make me beg," Regina urged, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in closer, the heat of their bodies mingling in the intimate space between them. Her fingers trembled with anticipation as she sought to remove the barrier between them, her need for Emma palpable in every touch.

"But I like it when you beg, Madam Mayor." Emma teased.

Regina's breath hitched at Emma's teasing words, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. Despite her attempt to maintain composure, a small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Oh, do you now?" Regina replied, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. The tension between them crackled in the air, their desires unspoken yet unmistakable.

"Oh, you know I do. And I love it even more when you're screaming for it," Emma teased, her lips dangerously close to Regina's, their breaths becoming one.

Regina's pulse quickened at Emma's words, her heart pounding in her chest as desire surged through her veins. Their closeness sent electric currents tingling across her skin, her body responding eagerly to Emma's proximity.

"Is that a promise, Miss Swan?" Regina whispered, her voice husky with desire as she leaned in closer, their lips mere centimeters apart.

Emma simply nodded and finally their lips met in a heated embrace, a surge of electricity coursed through their bodies, igniting a fire that had long smoldered between them. Regina's hands found their way to Emma's waist, pulling her closer as their tongues danced in a tantalizing rhythm.

Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, each one a testament to the raw desire that simmered just beneath the surface. Emma's fingers tangled in Regina's hair, pulling her closer still, while Regina's nails traced gentle patterns along Emma's back, sending shivers down her spine.

Their breath mingled between kisses, hot and heavy with longing, as they lost themselves in each other completely. Time seemed to stand still as they explored each other's mouths with a hunger that bordered on desperation, their bodies pressed together in a passionate embrace.

With each touch, each caress, the tension between them mounted, building to a crescendo that threatened to consume them both.

As their lips continued to meet in a fervent dance, a soft knock on the door startled them both. Regina and Emma froze, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared hesitation. The interruption was unwelcome, but duty called, and they reluctantly began to pull away from each other, their breaths mingling in the still air of the office.

As their lips parted, Regina's heart pounded in her chest like a drumbeat, the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She quickly straightened her dress, her fingers fumbling with the fabric as she tried to compose herself. Beside her, Emma hastily buttoned her blouse back up, her movements mirroring Regina's sense of urgency.

Their shared moment of passion lingered in the air like a palpable heat, leaving them both with a sense of vulnerability and uncertainty. Regina's mind raced with conflicting emotions, a tumultuous whirlwind of desire and apprehension.

Emma's expression mirrored Regina's turmoil, her features drawn tight with a mixture of longing and hesitation. They exchanged a fleeting glance, their eyes speaking volumes even as their words failed them.

Regina's touch was gentle yet possessive as she pulled Emma closer by the loop of her jeans, their bodies drawn together in an intimate embrace. With her free hand cradling Emma's cheek, she leaned in for one final kiss, their lips meeting in a lingering caress that spoke of unspoken promises and shared longing.

As they reluctantly pulled away from each other, Regina's voice was soft but resolute. "We'll continue this later," she murmured, her words carrying a hint of anticipation and longing.

Emma's heart fluttered at Regina's promise, her own desire mirrored in the depths of her green eyes. With a nod of agreement, she stepped back, her fingers lingering against Regina's before reluctantly releasing their hold.

With a deep breath, Regina finally composed herself enough to call out, "Come in.”

The door opened slowly, revealing one of Regina's advisors, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the scene before him. Regina quickly schooled her features into a mask of professionalism, though she couldn't quite shake the memory of the passion they had just shared.

As her advisor launched into the details of the upcoming meeting, Regina stole a fleeting glance at Emma before she slipped out of her office, their eyes meeting briefly before she turned her attention back to the task at hand.

[ashes0909]

Writing Game!

It's nano month, and I'm like 8k into original fiction, missing all my favorite fiction babes. SO - writing game!

I usually do 3 Words and a Ship but I want to mix it up. Feel free to send in any prompt (or 3 words and a ship, if you prefer) for any of the following ships/fandoms:

MCU:

Steve/Tony

Bucky/Steve/Tony

Tony/Bucky

Clint/Bucky

Phil/Clint

Bucky/Nat

Bucky/Steve

Star Wars:

Obi-Wan/Anakin

Yuri!! on Ice:

Yuuri/Victor

Supernatural:

Castiel/Dean

Sam/Gabriel

Harry Potter:

Harry/Draco

Draco/Hermione

Red, White and Royal Blue

Henry/Alex

Game Changers Series

Shane/Ilya

[agoddamnsupernova]

FUCKING THUNDERBOLTS COMES OUT THE DAY BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY IF THATS NOT A SIGN TO WRITE FOR IT I DUNNO WHAT IS

[grumpy-triceratops]

🌸My Super Long Hopefully Fun Character Ask Game:

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

Does your character have a favorite material they like to wear?

What are your character's opinion on scars?

How much interest does your character take in trends?

Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

What does your character smell like?

If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

What is something your character would refuse to wear?

Is there a style your character is afraid they can’t pull off?

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Is your character's appearance more telling or deceiving?

What are your character's thoughts on wearing costumes?

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

📦Objects

Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

What gift would your character give to someone they didn't like but felt obligated to?

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back? 

Would your character ever try to haggle?

What is something your character is proud to own?

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

Is there a type of object your character doesn’t like?

What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

Does your character personify objects?

What does your character most enjoy shopping for?

Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Would your character prefer something bought or made personally?

Is your character willing to ask for things?

What is most important to your character when shopping?

🍽️Food and Drink

What flavor would your character say their personality is?

Would your character prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

Is there a food or drink your character is unwilling to try?

How big is your character's appetite?

Does your character consider eating fun?

Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

Is there food that has made your character sick?

What is your character's favorite food group?

Does your character like to try new foods?

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

Is your character food motivated?

Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

How much does your character care about wasting food?

Does your character prefer restaurant food or home cooked food?

What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Is there a food texture your character doesn't like?

What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

What season would your character say they're most similar to?

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Has your character ever had an animal phase?

Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

Does your character have a good sense of direction?

What type of environment does your character like best?

Is your character good with animals?

How would your character react to snow?

What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

Could your character survive in the wilderness on their own for a week or more?

What element best represents your character?

Does your character prefer hot or cold weather?

Is there a creature that scares your character?

What celestial body would interest your character the most?

Is your character good with plants?

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

What animal would your character say best represents them?

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know?

Who is your character most honest with?

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

Where is your character's comfort place?

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance?

Who would your character say knows them best?

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight?

Who would your character most want to sign their cast if they got one?

How well does your character work with others?

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

Does your character believe in myths and fairy tales?

What words could tear your character down?

How well does your character act under pressure?

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

What scents does your character find comforting?

Does your character have any allergies?

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

Does your character have strong willpower?

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it?

How does your character relax?

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Does your character have a sleep routine?

Would your character feel confident in a fight?

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

How often does your character have nightmares?

Are there scents your character dislikes?

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

If your character had to act in a play what role would they think they’d best perform?

Does your character have a high pain tolerance?

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Does your character have a secret hobby?

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

Which does your character try to prioritize more, work or hobbies?

Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

Is your character more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about? 

Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at?

Does your character have any injury stories?

What kind of music does your character enjoy?

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

How good is your character at following through on projects?

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

Does your character prefer music or silence?

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC prompt (demon twins au)

A video from your son, the email was titled. Bruce was confused. Which of his kids would send a video to his public work email??

Bruce clicked play.

On the screen was a boy who look a lot like Damian, but most certainly wasn’t him.

“This video is for the eyes of Bruce Wayne only.

Hi Dad. I’m Danny. You likely don’t know I exist, and if you’re receiving this, I’m already dead. Well, more dead than I already was. Maybe it’s cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem, but you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would’ve put you in danger.

This email is set to automatically send if I haven’t opened my computer for 3 days. I sometimes set it longer if I’m on vacation or expecting trouble, but I’ve mostly likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you’re receiving this.

I don’t know who killed me. Obviously. I’m recording this in advance. But it was probably either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons. I half-died at 14 and became a local ghost superhero, but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost-me apart molecule by molecule, so I bet that’s what happened. There will be nothing left of me to bury. Sorry about that!

The rest of the story is this. I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of 6 when they sent me on mission and I successfully faked my death.

My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that’s the reason I’m reaching out to you.

You’re a civilian. If you know too much about the League of Assassins you’ll be in danger. But I need you to save my twin Damian. He’s likely still there after all these years. He never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. He’s probably going to be stabby; he’s an assassin after all. But it’s not his fault. Ra’s - our grandfather - brainwashed him a lot more than he brainwashed me because Damian was more susceptible to it. It’s not his fault. Please. Save him. I’m begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please do it.

I wish it would’ve been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I’ve seen of you on the news with your oldest kids. I bet you’re like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for listening.

Your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton.”

Bruce took a second to process this, then picked up his phone and dialed his youngest’s number.

“Father.”

“Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?”

“…Who told you?”

Bruce hung up and sent Damian the video. He needed a minute to process this anyway.

Damian called back a few minutes later, after watching the video.

“Father. I do not care what state he is in. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny. Even if there is only a single molecule left. We must discover the truth.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Damian.”

Dealer’s choice on whether Danny is alive. The few ideas I have for this are:

- they find him mid-vivisection and rescue him

- they find what’s left of him post-vivisection and post his core being crushed

- he’s perfectly fine and just forgot to open his computer (maybe clockwork made sure he forgot?) and now he’s panicking about the fact that his family knows about him and could be in danger. He wanted them to know he existed, not make themselves a walking target for the league by finding him and trying to bring him home!

- Jazz found the automatic email and, deciding to meddle in her brother’s life and him back to his family and maybe get a good parent for herself as a bonus, sent it early

- Technus decided to start shit and sent it while haunting Danny’s computer

- Clockwork screwed with time to make sure it got sent

Lmk what yall do with this!

[rawbin-hsr]

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves.

Read part 2 here !

Only barely proof-read, guaranteed to have lots of grammatical errors, English is not my first language and I am experimenting with my writing style <3

CW: smut, handjob (Aventurine receiving), dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), feelings of inadequacy, hurt/very little comfort, crying, mentions of death, at some points this seems like dubcon because Aventurine speaks of feeling “dread”, but it’s NEVER intended to be read as him not wanting to receive touch from reader, it is meant to convey how little he thinks he deserves this. The smut is soft and gentle, but Aventurine’s internal thoughts definitely are not <3

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

18+, minors will be blocked <3

Your touch is so kind. Soft and gentle, as if he is made of the finest porcelain, as if he is a fragile flower, as if he is delicate. It is cruel, he thinks, that he has made you think he is any less than a monster. It is cruel that he hasn’t pushed you away, when he knows he will devour you. It has become part of his nature.

But how can he push you away when you are so persistent? How can he push you away when you roll with his punches, when you go along with each and every one of his pushes and pulls? It is hard to keep you out when you insistently pry your way into what’s left of his soul, when you gaze upon the rotten corpse that he is and still claim him to be beautiful. He thinks you must be blind at best and naive at worst.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper reverently, and though Aventurine knows his body is, he also knows that is not the part of him you’re referring to. Not when your hand rests on his chest, above the empty cavern where his heart is meant to be.

You kiss his neck and he shivers. There’s a pit in his stomach, knotting his insides with dread.

He should tell you to stop, should warn you that he’s deceiving you, that he’s not the person you think he is. Should show you that he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, that he is a bad omen. But he can’t bring himself to. Not when being with you feels so good, not when he’s self-indulgent to a fault, and he can’t help himself with you. He is the worst mistake you could ever make, in part because he can’t even stop from letting you continue to make it.

His hands rest on the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair. It is unfair how good your touch feels, his back arching just from mere caresses upon his skin. You play him like he’s an instrument you’ve practiced for years, despite never having fucked him before. He digs his heels into your back as your hand wraps around his dick, and he whines into your shoulder when you lovingly stroke it.

“I love you,” you murmur as he pulls on your hair, as his nails dig into your skin, and he wants to cry. He will destroy you from the inside out, he knows, or maybe he will kill you before he gets the chance to. He can never keep the things he loves alive.

Your lips kiss his skin, and he moans brokenly as your thumb glides over the head of his cock, pushing down on the tip. His hips rock up to meet your hand, and he feels ashamed of how blatantly he allows himself to enjoy you, how blatantly he allows himself to use you. You deserve so much better, but you are the best thing that he has ever managed to get his bloodstained hands on, and so he can’t help himself. He wants you to remain unaware of how much better you could do. He wants you to stubbornly remain by his side even when he makes it hard for you to do so. He wants to bare every part of his being to you so you can see how little worth he is to you. He wants you to run from him before it’s too late.

But part of him knows he already has shown you himself, that you’ve seen who he is and you still love him. You must be stupid.

“Use me,” he begs you, wishing you’d do something with him to alleviate the guilt he feels, so it would at least be mutual. His hands cling to you, and he whimpers pathetically when you lean back to look down at him. “Use me, please. Please…”

And your eyes are so kind. Your eyes are so sweet and soft and human, and everything he is not.

“Shh,” you hush him, tenderly pressing a kiss to his lips. He sobs, feeling embarrassing tears fill his eyes as you press closer to him, the touch so caring and innocent yet so lewd as your hand tugs at him. “Just let me make you feel good, okay?”

And you do. You always keep true to your words, unlike him. It’s barely a minute later that his breath hitches and he keens, nearly wailing into your neck as he comes undone under your too loving hands. It’s obscene, and he feels filthy as his semen paints your hand and splatters on his lower stomach. He has soiled your perfect skin, has dirtied your perfect body. He hopes you will let go of him and wash yourself up, then leave him here, broken on the bed in the mess he’s created. That you will leave him to pick up the pieces of himself he has left. He is undeserving of you.

And yet he only feels your love swaddle him when his body relaxes, adoring praises and sweet words tumbling from your perfect lips as your perfect hands gently stroke his body, soothing him as if he is deserving. Your perfect body presses closer to him, no doubt getting his mess on your perfect abdomen as you almost lay yourself flat on him. You pepper perfect kisses all over his face, and he realises belatedly he’s crying. For the first time in ten years. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and he doesn’t know for what reason.

But you seem like you do know. You look so understanding, wiping his tears with an achingly kind, perhaps slightly sad smile, and you don’t ask him why.

“I’ve got you now, it’s okay,” you say instead. And you do, because you always keep true to your word.

And he is selfish, because he doesn’t stop you. He lets you clean him up, lets you kiss his tears away, lets you take care of him. Lets you climb into bed with him afterwards, unaware that you have brought the monster under your bed up into your loving arms. He hasn’t felt so much love since he was nine.

And he is selfish, because even though he can already feel his claws dig into your flesh as he holds you in return, he cannot bring himself to pull away. He can only hope he won’t dig in his heels when you eventually see reason and try to leave. He can only hope you will have the time to get away before he kills you.

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

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[justhereforsomethingnice]

Good media

Danny is hated by the town until a de-aged Ellie and a year old boxlunch enter the picture. Now the entire towns social media is one and the same. Phantom corralling and running after two chaotic floating ghost toddlers who insist on exploring every damn inch of the town, get distracted by a bug and chase after pieces of dust at the drop of a hat.

The two of them are also incredibly capable of increasing the others energy levels. They really do enjoy each others company. Sadly, Danny now has a full time job worth’s of work on these two. The date boxy and lunch lady are going on better be one heck of a date, or Danny will be angry.

The town loves seeing their hero be a worried parent. The memes are legendary.

[littleoddwriter]

imagine Dmitri putting all the effort in the world into learning to imitate your favourite singer's voice, and then learning to play a specific song from their discography on the piano and sing it, so as to let you know and feel just how much he means it when he says that he loves you. maybe he even uses that as a strategy to first confess his love to you, performing it at the club, simply announcing the next song to be for you, and it doesn't take you long to realise, and---

my heart is bursting, my goodness, I need this so badly. <3

[crowholtz]

Misthoppers Server Strahdtober 2024

A Misthoppers Curse of Strahd prompt list for this upcoming October! With these prompts you may interpret them as you will, using them to create art of any medium - this includes writing, traditional art, ink, sketches, digital art, moodboards, etc. I want this to be accessible to people of all creative expressions. Feel free to post your work on tumblr and, if you'd like, tag #misthoppers or even @ me! I want to see everyone's marvelous works.

Oh, and you don't have to be a part of the Misthoppers discord server to participate. This is for everyone who loves Curse of Strahd!

Happy spooky season!

[starry-bi-sky]

DPXDC Idea: Mother of Monsters Dan(yal)

Specifically Fem!Dan because I made this in mind with my Fem Danyal Au bUT. The best part about Dan is that I get to play dress up with her, and Fem Dark Dany is gonna go by Layal (pronounced lae-el) because it means "the nights" and it sounds similar to Danyal, and I think she'd choose that name to mock Dany. ANYWAYS

Mother of Monsters Danyal. She may be evil but she's an Al Ghul at her core (even with vlad's soul merged with hers - however, considering that Layal looks and sounds like Dany, she considers that soul to be the more dominant one.) and loves animals. And she might be heartless, but she adores the monsters of the infinite realms.

Mother of Monsters Layal who hates everyone but utterly dotes and adores on every manner of beast she comes across. Stealing the eggs and infant young beasts of the Infinite Realms to raise as her own because she wanted them. Her own island full of monsters, a monstrous menagerie of her own. She steals most often from poachers or exotic pet keepers and other menageries -- the full grown beasties can keep their young.

And with every monster she raises, she can shapeshift their features onto herself, allowing her to change her shape from humanish to any matter of monster or hybrid creature. She calls herself their mother, and them her children. Her precious little babies, capable of incredible mass destruction and mayhem.

From little griffins the size of kittens, to stymphalian vulture chicks, and leviathan young hatching from eggs the size of her pinkie, to creatures native of the ghost zone that didn't even have names in the living realm. There really wasn't a limit to what or who she would take in and she didn't limit herself to any form of mythology. If they were beasts and they were unwanted, she wanted them. And as such, amassed her own mini army of "children" willing to listen to her any command.

Earth doesn't know what hit it when she attacks them.

There are many monstrous forms she could take on, the first one I've thought of is a combination of various serpentine/reptilian features. The body of a naga -- her lower half long and serpentine, her upper still human -- with spiked fins connecting from the bottom of her arms to her sides, ever seen Sinbad where Eris goes "you might have seen my likeness on the temple walls" and her arms do that fin thingy? Same concept. Her hands are webbed and taloned, perfect for slicing through the skin of the living, and her teeth are needle-sharp and shark like. Her hair can either be spiny and feathery-like like the spines of a lionfish, or frilled like a frilled-neck lizard. It's perfect for dealing and doting on her reptilian and amphibian-inclined darlings.

I'm more of a fan of aus where Dan is a sibling of Danny's rather than their kid, so Layal's redemption(..?? probation?) proceeds with her legally becoming Danyal's "twin" sister, who had been lost to the foster system before the Fentons adopted Dany, and was only recently reunited with her. The two of them look so alike that the lie is easy to take root and spread.

Layal is very indignant to the fact that she's now ten years in the past and has to restart her menagerie all over again. Do you know how much blood and sweat went into raising those children? How dare you separate them from their mummy. Although she'll admit she does miss their juvenile years, so she won't mind (too much) needing to raising them again. Dany is helping her retrieve all of them though, dammit.

long story short: epic the musical's "Scylla" has a CHOKEHOLD on me and this is the result of it

Unlike her Dan counterpart, Layal's voice is dancing and sirenic. It's purposely alluring and motherly, in order to lure people into a false sense of security until she feeds them to her "children." Echidna doesn't have shit on her. She almost seems friendly and reasonable, until you get too close and realize it was all an act and she drops it to metaphorically swallow you whole. She's like an anglerfish that way. She and Dany both sound like Scylla from Epic.

[strandedtoodeep]

*send a Tiktok edit to Logan* Wade: Aaah, the joy to share some Cherik edit now that you've seen the movies Logan: …Cherik?? Wade: …Yeah? Logan: The fuck is a 'Cherik'? Wade: Oh it's, like, their ship's name? Between Erik and Chuck? Logan: Oh. Oh god. *pinches the bridge of his nose* Wade: What can I say, you're stuck with me now big guy Logan: Nope, you're stuck with me. Wade: No u :( Logan: :) Wade: :)) Logan: Is that a double-chin? Wade: Nah, it's a double-smile so he becomes evil Logan: Uh. Wade: :))) Wade: And that's, it's a evil smile with a double-chin Logan: … *goes back on Tiktok in silence, but with a big fucking grin*

[gingerteaonthetardis]

just remembered you can ship rosemartha and felt high

[lizpaige]

i love ur ficlets!! for a prompt: adam arrives home exhausted after the work trip from hell and ronan gives him some TLC. thanks 💕

thanks for the prompt, anon! hope you like this one, too! ❤️

After a four hour flight delay and a miserable trip for work that was, in the end, just a waste of time, Adam was home.

Their townhouse in DC was barely lived in. They both traveled so much that they barely got to utilize the space for more than a day or two consecutively. It only bothered Adam when he was home and realized they were missing something basic - hand towels in the bathroom or extra sheets in the bedroom - but quickly forgot about it when they were away again.

Opening the front door, the whole place felt lonely and cold. He toed off his shoes, tossed his keys in the bowl by the door, dropped his messenger bag next to his carry-on luggage, and pulled off his suit jacket. He threw himself on the couch, scrolling through his phone to find somewhere to order food, knowing they had nothing in, when the doorbell rang.

When he answered it, a delivery guy with a paper bag monogrammed with the restaurant name of his favorite Italian place was there.

“I didn’t order anything,” Adam stammered.

“Uh, are you Adam Parrish?” The man read his name off the receipt. “Definitely yours then. Already paid for. Thanks for the tip.” He shoved it into Adam’s arms and walked away.

Adam stood there for a moment dumbfounded before his pocket buzzed with an incoming text from Ronan: bon appetit bitch x

Adam had asked Ronan where he was in the states, hoping he was close by so he wouldn’t have to spend his weekend off alone, but Ronan was with his brothers in Boston so Adam didn’t ask. He didn’t really tell him much about the horrible work trip either, just sort of dodged the question with a lot of sighs and nonanswers.

But Ronan knew him.

An hour after he settled in for the night, after a shower, after demolishing his penne alla vodka, getting into Ronan’s sweats, and collapsing on the couch with a mindless nature documentary to fall asleep to, the front door opened.

And then a loud commotion as the intruder tripped over all of Adam’s belongings he had dumped there at the front door. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Ronan?” Adam jolted off the couch and scrambled to the door. His luggage was on its side and so was Ronan. He helped him up and was immediately pulled into a tight embrace

Adam buried his face in Ronan’s neck and breathed him in, all the tension he’d been carrying for the last month on his ongoing work trip was released.

Ronan laughed, running a soothing hand down his back. “Hey there.”

Adam just groaned and Ronan pressed a kiss to his neck and held him, for as long as he needed, which was apparently a long time.

“That bad, huh?” He said after a while and Adam started to lean all his weight against him. Ronan laughed again. “Can you make it to the couch or are you dead?”

“Not sure,” Adam grumbled into his shoulder. Ronan huffed another laugh and picked Adam up, holding him close against his chest as he brought them to the couch. Selfishly Adam liked this and he knew Ronan liked to show off so it was a win-win.

When they made it to the couch, Adam pulled Ronan down on top of him, hand resting at the base of his skull, pulling him in for a kiss. He lost count of how many days they spent apart this time, but he knew it was too many.

“You’re here,” Adam said eventually when their lungs needed a break.

Ronan hummed in reply and rested his head against Adam’s shoulder, grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. Adam let his other hand run along Ronan’s temple, down his cheek, his jaw, along his ear, down his neck. He closed his eyes, both feeling better by Ronan’s proximity and also guilty that he pulled him away from whatever.

Seemingly able to read his mind, Ronan said, “you know, you can just ask me to come home. Or shit, I could, like, meet you somewhere.”

“Hm?”

“You know what I fucking mean,” Ronan punched his side. “You had a shitty month of some yuppie government bullshit, but like… I can drop whatever, hop on a flight, come see you.”

“I don’t know if you have clearance to—”

“I’ll sign whatever NDA you need me to. Fuck knows I don’t understand half the shit you talk about anyway.” Ronan pulled their joined hands to his lips. “Or I see you for a night or something. Doesn’t have to be long if you’re busy.”

This was still difficult for Adam to do. To ask for things he knew Ronan was ready and willing to give. And while sometimes Ronan had a freaky way of reading his mind, it wasn’t always and Adam should be able to ask for what he needs.

“I know you wanted me to come home this weekend, but enough with dropping hints.” Ronan turned his head and kissed his sternum, then up to his lips. “Just ask me.”

Adam pulled him in for a kiss, slow and deep, a promise that words couldn’t adequately express, some gratitude for Ronan coming anyway even though Adam hadn’t asked. Adam had only been working this job for a year and while he was still fiercely independent, sometimes he just wanted to see Ronan. They were still figuring out the distance.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, pulling back. “Or we could meet halfway? If you’re busy and—”

“Sure, Parrish,” Ronan kissed him again and then got up. He outstretched a hand to Adam on the couch expectantly. “Come on, we’re going to bed.”

[snkyou]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[promptsblog]

Title Prompts

1. I Sold My Life

2. My Title is 'Earl'

3. Chased by a Chicken

4. A Crapload of Turnips

5. My Boyfriend is an Alien

6. We Bought a Gay Bar

7. Worst Group Project Ever

8. Duelling the Gardener's Cat

9. Doppelganger Dilemma

10. A Very Grumpy Baron

11. Stealing Back the Trophy

12. The Xylophone Incident

13. The Great Office Supply Heist

14. Hijacked by a Flashmob

15. My Grandmother is a Vampire Hunter

16. Falling in Love while Feinting a Faint

17. How to Lose a Marquess in Ten Days

18. Winning a Bet I Never Made

19. The Mysterious Missing Muffins

20. You, Me, and the Ghost in the Attic

21. How to Break an Engagement Before Tea

22. The Lady who Faked Amnesia

23. How I Accidentally Became Queen of the Mermaids

24. Operation: Steal my Ex's Dog

25. The Time-Traveling Guinea Pig

26. The Battle for the Last Parking Spot

27. Revenge of the Wedding Crasher

28. We Kidnapped a Dragon

29. The Rake who Stole my Heart (and my Horse)

30. The Minimalism to Prison Pipeline

31. The Summer I Got Stuck in a Video Game

32. How we Ruined the Neighbourhood Barbeque

33. Crashing my Own Birthday Party

34. The Great Ice Cream Truck Turf Wars

35. The Vending Machine Tour of North America

36. Honey, I started a cult

37. The Day My Toaster Tried to Take Over the World

38. The World's Last Magical Doughnut

39. The Theme Park in our Backyard

40. How I Accidentally Summoned an Evil Sock Puppet

41. Gift Exchange Gone Wrong

42. The Lunch Thief Strikes Again

43. That Time I Framed you for your Dad's Murder

[ongreenergrasses]

prompt idea inspired from a line from “out of Africa”

- You’ve ruined it for me, you know?

- Ruined what?

- Being alone

- Have I?

this prompt is really great anon, I hope you enjoy 💜

Annie yawned so wide around the end of her sentence that she felt her jaw pop. She looked over at Finnick, and the second he caught her eye, they both burst into giggles.

It wasn’t funny. Her jaw hadn’t really popped that loud, but she could see the sun starting to rise over the treetops. They’d dragged a pile of blankets out to the porch and stayed up talking, all night, and then when they ran out of words, sitting in silence. And now they were laughing, because it was at least five in the morning and everything suddenly became funny when it was that early and that late.

Annie had moved closer and closer to him over the course of the night. They started arm’s length from each other. Then, half that. Then, half that again. Now, Annie was inches away from him. If she moved, their shoulders would be brushing. She could lean into him. She knew he’d let her.

Finnick was watching her face so intently.

“What’re you thinking?” Annie asked. The early morning chill raked across the back of her neck as her hair suddenly blew into her face, and as she moved to push it back behind her ear, she bumped hands with Finnick. He’d beaten her to it, brushing the hair out of her face, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone for just an instant before he let her go.

Annie wanted to grab his hand, pull it back to her face. She wanted to close the distance between them, once and for all. She wanted to kiss him.

She settled for interlacing their fingers, keeping her hair pulled back out of the way with the other hand. It was long enough that it would hit them both in the face if she didn’t.

“Finnick,” she said, and nudged him in the leg with her knee. “What’re you thinking?”

“That you’ve ruined something.”

Annie’s eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” Finnick said quickly.

“Like what, then?” She squeezed his hand. “What have I ruined?”

“You’ve ruined being alone for me.”

Annie nodded slowly. “And did you like being alone? Before?”

Finnick looked down at their hands. He stroked over the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Because I’ve never liked being alone,” Annie said. “I’ve always done better as a pair. I’ve always liked being with someone. And now I’ll always need someone there.”

“Maybe not,” Finnick said softly. He was still staring at their joined hands. “You might get better.”

“Maybe,” Annie said. “But if I don’t, it wouldn’t be so bad if it was you.”

Finnick was chewing on the inside of his cheek. By now, Annie knew he did that when he was trying to keep in a smile.

“You can smile,” she said, and watched as the smile crept onto his face, the flush climbing up his cheeks. She was helpless to do anything but smile, too. “Maybe it’s not terrible. Not being alone.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe not.”