#sorry ran out of time to finish the rest of the prompts this week! will try for next week :3

[miss-bushido]

make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Home Sweet Home—

Nico Hischier x reader

I'm slowly starting to get through my requests from that Blurb Celly I did but couldn't finish!!

Request from @whenmypartysover “Can you pretty please do the prompt "I love you, I swear I do, but if you buy one more cushion for the sofa I'm moving out." with Nico or Luke”

Nico had been trying to get the house as ready as possible for the arrival of her mother, the woman who had single-handedly raised his wife, and this was the first time she was going to see the couple forever home.

The man had been running around the streets of Jersey for weeks searching for all the best for his mother-in-law, buying new duvets and hand towels for her bathroom.

His wife was beginning to worry with the stress he seemed to be manifesting within the preparation of their house.

“Babe,” she whispered as she watched his eyes wander over to the home decor aisle, she said softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm, drawing his attention away from the display of home decor items and to her. "Do you think this pillow would look good with the other ones on the couch?" he asked, attention still fully not on her as her brows furrowed. “You’ve been working hard to make everything perfect for my mom’s visit. I appreciate it, but is everything okay?” As he ran his thumb over the cushion fabric, Nico hummed, "So was that a yes or no to this design?"

His wife laughed at how distracted he seemed to be, her hand squeezing his as she pushed the pillow down so he could look at her, "what's going on?" Nico cleared his throat as he looked down at his feet and then into his wife's eyes “I guess I just want everything to be perfect for her, you know? She’s done so much for us, for you. I want her to feel welcomed and comfortable here.”

His wife smiled, her heart melting as her thumb swiped over the soft skin of his forearm as she squeezed him reassuringly, eyes full of understanding as Nico grew shy under her stare. “I promise you she’ll appreciate everything you’ve done. But remember, she’s coming here to see us, not to inspect the house. She’ll be happy just to spend time with her family.”

He nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek before pursing his lips and pressing a kiss to her cheek, "you're right," he mumbled against her skin as she nodded. "I know," she patted him on the chest as she ripped the cushion out of his grasp, "and I love you, I swear I do, but if you buy one more cushion for the sofa I'm moving out," she threw the pillow back onto the pile of others before standing on her tiptoes to press a short peck on his lips.

Nico nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features as he let out a laugh at the way her hand grabbed him and she pulled him out of the aisle, "Our house is perfect already, now get me out of this Homesense, I'm starting to get Stockholm syndrome," she announced as she turned back to see his face flush from the attention her announcement gained.

He pulled her closer to his chest as they got out into the street, "thanks for keeping me grounded," he mumbled into her hair as he let go of her hand and wrapped it around her to rest on her hip. "That’s what I’m here for, babe" Nico nodded, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her words. The house might not be 'perfect', but it was theirs, filled with love and laughter, and that was all that truly mattered.

-

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This is not my best work… sorry :)

[teenwolf-theoriginals]

and her name is...

pairing: tommy shelby x reader + dad!tommy

summary: the children help come up with baby names

side note: another fic inspired by the shelby family from this fic

side note #2: other fics in the afternoon shelby chaos series: dad!tommy, mr giraffe, the boys

The news of another sibling had been announced. Tommy calling a family meeting three days after having to look after the children while you rested. He broke the news gently, mainly for Florence's benefit. She remained silent, more interested in Mr Graiffe than becoming a big sister. As for Theo and Charlie, they tried negotiating if they could get a pet to even out the numbers between boys and girls. "You already have the horses. No more pets", had been Tommy's response, earning a groan from the boys. Now, a few months later, you decided that it was the right time to have the children help come up with her name. While Tommy ventured off to deal with business, you and the children sat in the living room, fire lit to combat the winter breeze. Each with a piece of paper in front of them. Ava had finished first, extending her hand to give you her list with one name written neatly in the centre.

"Why am I not surprised that you picked a name starting with the letter "A". Although, I am surprised there is only one name on your list”.

Ava sheepishly smiled, “I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Beside, I like that one the best”.

Beside the fireplace, the boys lay flat on their stomachs, whispering to each other. After a minute of hushed discussion, Charlie rested his weight on his knees as he scanned his list, prompting a question. "Mum, how do you know it's really a girl?".

"Yeah, what if Aunt Polly is wrong this time". Theo added. "Then all this thinking of girl names will be for nothing".

"Not if Mum and Dad have another baby". Ava sang, meeting your smile.

"It's a girl. Aunt Polly was very sure about that".

"Uncle John said babies are made when bodies get smooshed together". Theo commented, with Charlie demonstrating by clapping his hands and pressing them together as if he was squashing fruit.

"You should ask your father". You heartily laughed, imagining the look on Tommy's face when his sons asked him how babies were made.

"Mum, I have three names". Charlie announced, holding up his paper. Followed by an eager announcement by Theo that he had four.

"Alright, let me see".

Proudly handing their papers over, you scanned through the names finding that both had identical lists with Theo adding the same name twice to get four. You chuckled, telling the boys they did a good job. Glancing over to Florence, she was the only Shelby not enjoying the activity. From afar, you could see her paper had been left blank.

"Flo? Do you want to share?"

She shook her head, eyes lowered.

"Come on, Flo. You're going to be a big sister! That's so cool". Charlie declared. "If Theo and I had another brother, we'd have another pirate to steer our Shelby ship".

"Pirates? What happened to being astronauts?".

"Mum, that was a week ago, keep up". Theo scolded.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart".

At the sound of scrunching, everyone turned their attention to Flo. Cheeks stained from tears and heated red from the fire. Loudly, she retorted as she ran upstairs, leaving the echo of angry footsteps in her wake. "I don't want to be a big sister!" 

You winched at the sudden sharp kick from the baby, rubbing in slow circular motions to calm her.

"Mum, are you okay?". Ava asked, catching the attention of the boys

Immediately, they rushed over, ready to spring into action. "Should we call Dad?".

"I'm fine. And no, don't call your father. She's just kicking really hard today, that's all".

The boys let out a relived breath, resuming their positions near the fire. Ava’s concern remained, more so, towards Florence’s outburst. "Should I talk to Florence?".

"No, that's okay. Your father will".

Throughout the day, Ava tried to remain silent, letting Flo stir in her mixed emotions and sit with the idea of becoming a big sister. But as evening approached, the urge to give Florence a gentle big sister nudge of advice won over remaining silent. To little surprise, a tea party had been set up in the corner of Flo’s room. Something she did whenever the day upset her. Mr Graiffe sitting at the head of the table, with her teddy bear and a newly brought brunette doll dressed as a ballerina gifted by Tommy.

“Go away”. Flo muttered.

Ava sighed, crouching anyway. “I know you’re upset about becoming a big sister. But once you meet her, I promise you’ll love her”.

“Go away”. Flo muttered again.

"You're making Mum stressed, Flo. And that isn't good for her or our little sister".

Neither had heard the door open until Tommy’s voice interrupted and neither realized that Tommy had heard every word. “Ava, go see if you’re mum needs help with anything”.

Avoiding his gaze, Flo continued with her tea party, severing Mr Giraffe imaginary cookies and tea. Tommy sat on the edge of the bed watching his daughter skillfully avoid the conversation with distractions.

"Flo, stop playing for a minute. We need to have a word".

"Do you want some tea, Daddy?". She sweetly asked, holding up a purple cup.

"No. I want you to stop playing and look at me. Florence, now". He sharply demanded.

She stopped, hands in her lap, sniffling. "When she comes all your attention will be on her".

"My attention will go where it's needed, like always. But when your little sister arrives, she is going to need extra love from all of us. And she will need you to protect her like a big sister does, alright?".

"You won't take away Mr Giraffe and give it to her?".

"Nobody will take away Mr Giraffe, you have my word".

Wrapping her hands around Tommy's neck, he holstered Flo onto his lap, wiping the tear. "I didn't mean to make Mama upset".

"I know. But we need to be careful and not give Mama any extra stress these last few months, alright?".

She nodded, handing Tommy a piece of paper. With a kiss on the cheek and a promise Tommy would attend the next tea party, Flo’s spirits had improved. And like Flo, making his way to you had improved Tommy’s spirits from the day’s disaster. An employee who tried to make extra money on the side by stealing materials from his factories with the intent of selling as his own. Nobody stole from him, the repercussion a bullet. This time, it wasn’t a bullet to kill, but a warning to the employee’s leg. “Consider yourself lucky that I’m in a generous mood. Now get your things and don’t ever step foot in my factories ever again”. The employee gratefully nodded, hobbling home with a physical reminder never to be foolish enough to steal from the likes of a Shelby.

"She's kicking again?". He asked, watching you wiggle into a more comfortable position.

"Yes, and I can already tell she's going to be stubborn like her father". Tommy chuckled, taking a seat and easing his little girl by slowly rubbing his hand over your growing belly. "How's Flo?".

"She's coming around to the idea of being a big sister. And she made me promise that we won't take Mr Giraffe and give it to the baby".

You smiled, holding onto it for a few seconds before frowning.

"What's wrong, eh?".

"I'm still worried that Flo isn't going to handle our attention, well your attention, on the baby".

"What makes you say that?".

"Because you've been rubbing my stomach for about a minute and she's stopped kicking".

Tommy proudly smiled, looking down. "Flo will be alright. Give it a few weeks after the baby is born and she will love being a big sister".

"I hope so. We have enough going on around here without adding sibling rivalry to the list".

“Consider this a good first step”. He replied, handing over the piece of paper. "Flo's way of saying she's sorry for causing you stress".

Intrigued, you opened the folded paper to find one name scribbled in the middle. A name that had been on every list but never chosen, until now.

"She heard the name in a bedtime story that Frances read to her a few nights ago. What do you think, love? Is that her name?".

Placing your hand over Tommy's, you uttered the name. Both smiling when the baby kicked, signalling approval. “I think she likes it”.

“Then it’s settled. Her name will be Eleanor Shelby”.

[navybrat817]

Home Video

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader

Summary: Nick has the perfect movie to watch with you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Implied NONCON/DUBCON, held hostage, possessive and obsessive behavior, light pussy slapping, voyeurism of sorts, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The Basement Spouses Writing Challenge Week 3! Character: Nick Fowler. Length: 250-500 words. Prompt: "Test me one more time and I won’t hesitate to wring that pretty little neck of yours." ❤️ A small follow up to See Through You. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Nick fluffed your pillow with a smile as he finished setting the bedroom up for movie night. He told you he had a hectic day at work and needed to unwind. You glanced at the makeshift table beside the bed where the snacks and drinks were waiting, but made no move to grab anything. It wasn’t because you weren’t hungry.

It was because Nick decided to bind your hands before he did anything else.

He stretched out beside you, still dressed in his work clothes minus his jacket and shoes. You were completely naked, of course, since he liked you best without clothes. You missed being in your own bed, but you hadn’t been home since that fateful day at the carnival. It was difficult to even look at your own reflection without remembering how he fucked you in front of so many mirrors.

“I think you’re going to love this one,” Nick smiled as he pressed a couple of buttons on the remote, a familiar room showing up on the screen at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, my god,” you whispered as you saw yourself on the television, your body stretched out in your old bed as you touched yourself. You almost didn’t want to believe him when he admitted that he bugged your place. That he knew what you sounded like when you came. But his obsession and passion for you ran deep. “Nick-”

“Told you, sweetheart,” he groaned, palming himself as you tore your gaze away. “You make such pretty noises.”

“Turn it off,” you whispered, shutting your eyes when you heard yourself moan from the speakers. “Please.”

“Why would I do that? Listen to you,” he said, forcing your legs apart so he could slide his hand between them. You whimpered as he mimicked the motions he saw on the screen. His fingers were longer, his touch more possessive than your own. “Music to my fucking ears.”

“Stop touching me,” you demanded, trying to shut your legs.

“No, sweetheart,” he said as he turned the volume up, your cries building in the room.

“Shut it off!” you yelled over the sound. “Stop touching me!”

He took a breath before he removed his hand and licked his fingers in silence. Before you could sigh in relief, he brought it back with a hard smack to your pussy. You shrieked when he did it again. “Test me one more time and I won’t hesitate to wring that pretty little neck of yours.”

“Sorry,” you said immediately, shivering when brought his hand to your neck and rested it there. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you and you believed him. Was it a lie? “I’m sorry, Nick.”

A second passed before he chuckled, but you didn’t laugh with him. “Oh, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you,” he promised, groaning as he looked at the screen again. “But I will make you come harder than any of your toys ever could. And you’ll sound even prettier when you take my cock.”

He's deranged and I love him. 😈 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[annoyinglyhardsong]

Codywan Week 2024: Day 7 Service Top

Author Note: Here is my prompt fill for Day 7 for @codywanweek. It's hella late but here it is! Not beta'd at all so sorry for any continuity issues. Enjoy some hopefully mushy emotional sex. As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome! Divider by @saradika-graphics, if you are looking for any cute graphics or dividers they have tons of amazing ones!

Warnings/Tags: NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, gay sex, consensual sex, bottom Obi-Wan, top Cody, kissing, flustered Obi-Wan.

They rarely ever had moments like this and Cody was going to make the most of it while he could. 

They were back on Coruscant with two weeks of leave as rest and relaxation. After a few drinks with the boys at 79’s the General had been eager to get home and have Cody all to himself, and Cody felt the same way.

Having private quarters on The Negotiator made it easier for late night cuddles and more intimate moments, but each time always felt rushed and it was a miracle if they weren’t interrupted. But with two weeks off with no responsibilities, they would be able to fully relax and enjoy each other in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. And Cody was just as eager for it as Obi-Wan. 

The general’s hands and lips were on him as soon as the door to Obi-Wan’s quarters in the temple closed behind them. One arm snaked up around Cody’s shoulders to pull the man closer, the other slipped to the back of his head to tangle in the short hair and curls that were found there, all the while Obi-Wan’s lips attacked Cody’s leaving the occasional nibble. 

Cody slipped both of his arms around the General’s waist drawing the older man flush against himself causing the other man to let out a small gasp. Cody took the opportunity to slide his tongue into the General’s mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Obi-Wan, eager to move things along, started fumbling with the clasps on the upper half of Cody’s armor. Discarding it as they awkwardly stumbled towards the bedroom. Finally freeing his Commander’s torso, Obi-Wan ran his hands over the planes of Cody’s chest and torso, appreciating the feel of the solid muscle even through the material of his upper blacks. 

Growing impatient, Cody scooped Obi-Wan up in his arms, the gingers legs coming to wrap around a trim waist, as one hand came down to cup a toned ass as sure legs finally carried them to the bedroom. 

Cody laid Obi-Wan gently down on the bed. His codpiece grinding lightly into his lover’s almost painfully hard dick, causing Obi-Wan to let out a wanton moan. Breaking their kiss, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan’s limbs, and took a step back to finish shedding himself of his armor and blacks, admiring the panting Jedi still spread out across their bed. 

“I-,” he started a little breathlessly, dropping to his knees in front of the still fully clothed Jedi, “am going to absolutely worship you tonight.”

Obi-Wan had propped himself up on his elbows to stare at his lover, quirking an eyebrow in question. He had thought that based off of the initial tone the night had set that their lovemaking would be hard and fast and rough, but it seemed Cody had different ideas he was more than willing to see just where those ideas led. 

Cody gently divested Obi-Wan of both of his cherry-red boots before pressing kisses up his calf, to the inside of each knee, and up a thigh to the waistband of his trousers. He deftly undid the button on his pants and carefully brought them down Obi-Wan’s legs. Reveling in the newly bared skin before him, Cody smoothed his hands up each of Obi-Wan’s long legs, toned from years of training. He peppered kisses and gentle bites into the skin as he worked his way up. Paying special attention to the few freckles, beauty marks, and scars that littered his legs, and murmuring compliments and endearments into the other’s skin. 

Working his way up to Obi-Wan’s torso, Cody carefully undid his belt and obi before slipping the layers of tunics off of his shoulders and down his arms before gently tugging his undershirt over his head. Revealing slightly tanned, gorgeously freckled skin. 

Obi-Wan blushed under Cody’s gaze. He wasn’t usually one to be shy but the longer that the war went on the more scars he acquired and the less desirable he thought his body became.  It was old anxieties that he wouldn’t ever be enough for anyone manifesting themselves at the worst times and in the worst ways possible. 

Seeming to know what he was thinking without even having to say it, Cody brought a hand up to gently cup Obi-Wan’s face and tip his head to look at him again. 

“Gar’re bid mesh’la,” Cody whispered, bringing his head down to touch foreheads with his lover and press a kiss to his lips. He was not going to let Obi-Wan get self-conscious and spiral tonight. He was the most beautiful man Cody had ever seen and he was going to make sure Obi-Wan knew just how much he was loved. 

He shuffled both of them so they were in a more comfortable position on the bed, before kissing down to Obi-Wan’s neck and working at a sensitive spot there. “Relax mesh’la, I’m gonna take care of you tonight. I’ve got you,”  Cody murmured into his neck with a nip. 

Cody brought calloused hands to trace down Obi-Wan’s sides to guide powerful thighs around his waist. Cody could feel his cock butting against Obi-Wan’s and brought his hips down to gently grind and create delicious friction on their aching members. The motion combined with Cody’s relentless lips drew a string of moans from Obi-Wan. 

“Please Cody,” the ginger begged, arching up into Cody, “I need more please.” 

“Shh mesh’la, I’ve got you,” Cody soothed, drawing away from Obi-Wan’s lips and neck to retrieve the bottle of lube from the bedside table and apply some to his fingers. Taking his slick index finger he circled it around Obi-Wan’s entrance before pressing into his tight heat. He brought his other hand down to close loosely around his and Obi-Wan’s cocks and pump while he set to the task of opening Obi-Wan up. 

Slipping a second and then third finger into Obi-Wan had the ginger moaning wantonly. “I need you Cody, please, don’t make me wait.”

Cody carefully withdrew from Obi-Wan, earning a small whimper from a loss of contact, before adding more lube to his aching cock and pressing into Obi-Wan. 

“Mesh’la you feel so good,” Cody moaned. “Always take me so well.”

The praise had the ginger keening underneath Cody as he set a relaxed pace. Pulling out and thrusting back in deeply, “You’re so beautiful, and you sound so good like this.” 

They got lost in the motion and the feel of it all. Cody enjoying the tight heat of Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan relishing in the warm stretch that Cody’s hard length gave. 

Cody’s goal for this wasn’t just their standard love making. Cody wanted to watch Obi-Wan absolutely fall apart under and around him. He wanted Obi-Wan to know he was loved and maybe be a little sore the next day. Wanting a better angle Cody shifted Obi-Wan’s legs from around his waist to rest on his shoulders, pressing his knees up towards his chest, and wrapping his hands around Obi-Wan’s hips to pull the other man closer. “You feel absolutely amazing Obi,” Cody panted, thrusting into Obi-Wan. Bringing the knee by his left shoulder a little closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there. 

On his next thrust in Obi-Wan could feel Cody’s cockhead brushing against a spot that had him keening. Between the compliments Cody kept murmuring to him and the pressure against his prostate Obi-Wan’s mind was blissfully blank, overcome with the pleasure and love radiating off of his cyare. 

Cody knew from the look on Obi-Wan’s face that he was getting close and that his plan was working. Obi-Wan was always a little bashful when it came to compliments and it was no surprise how well that worked in Cody’s favor in the bedroom. Knowing the other man was going to be getting close he decided to see just how affected his words could make the great Negotiator. 

“Are you feeling good love? It feels like it. The way you’re clenching around me is absolutely divine.” He said between thrusts, unrelenting on his lover’s prostate, Obi-Wan whimpering beneath him. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love doing this? I could worship you all day just like this. You’re so beautiful I would love to just have a day with you like this. See how many times I can get you to cum for me,” Cody panted, increasing the pace as he could feel Obi-Wan winding up getting ready to release, tendrils of Obi-Wan’s own emotions leaking out into the Force through his shields. It wouldn’t be long now, just the right push. 

“But you know what my favorite part is? Feeling you absolutely shatter around me. You project in the Force when you’re with me and its so addicting knowing just how good I make you feel.” Cody all but moaned, feeling Obi-Wan’s pleasure starting to peak, his own influenced by it and not far behind. 

“Cum for me Obi-Wan, let me feel you.” At that Obi-Wan tipped over the edge, arching up into Cody with a cry, limbs tensing as his cock shot ropes of cum between both of them. The Force opening up and Obi-Wan releasing all of the pleasure and emotions of lust and love out in a wave around Cody. The intensity of it nearly took Cody’s breath away and with a few more thrusts against Obi-Wan’s vice-like limbs, Cody was burying himself deep within Obi-Wan and moaning out his release. 

Coming down from their highs, Cody carefully moved Obi-Wan’s legs from his shoulders, and slid his softening member from Obi-Wan. The other man, hissing at the loss of contact. Giving Obi-Wan a quick peck on the lips, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan to grab a wet cloth from the fresher and gently clean up his auburn haired love. 

Returning the cloth to the laundry basket, Cody arranged their limbs so they were comfortably cuddling. One of Cody’s arms to act as a pillow for Obi-Wan’s head, forehead resting against Cody’s chest, his other arm coming to wrap around Obi-Wan’s back to lightly rub up and down his back and occasionally card through the short hair at the back of his head, their legs entwined comfortably. Obi-Wan hummed contentedly and nuzzled further into Cody’s chest, using the Force to pull the blankets up over them tucking them into a cocoon of warmth and love. 

“I love you,”Cody murmured into Obi-Wan’s hair where his cheek was nuzzled. “Always.”

“I love you too,” Obi-Wan said back, fighting off sleep. “Always.”

Feeling Obi-Wan’s breaths even out and deepen into sleep, Cody felt himself start to relax as well. Content and ridiculously in love Cody drew his arms a little tighter around the man in front of him and drifted off to sleep. 

[racingliners]

@hypersoft-fest Week 8: Any prompt (Romcom)

George/Lewis - Royalty AU & Arranged Marriage, 5k, no warnings apply

Hypersoft Publications are delighted to present an excerpt from RL Aston's upcoming modern royalty romance novel, set for publication in Spring 2025 - Forces

“Father you can’t do this!” George had gotten up from the settee and taken a few steps forward before he realised it was pointless. When the King had left the room it would have taken an earthquake to change his mind.

He thought that being the youngest Prince meant he would have more time, he thought that both his siblings being married meant he’d be spared the pressure to marry, he thought… well clearly what George thought didn’t matter to anyone but himself, and maybe his private secretary Marcus.

“I mean…” Alex, a fellow Prince in the Thai royal family, ran a hand down his face and let out a long sigh once George had finished updating his friend on the latest and frankly terrifying development in his life.

On one of the most beautiful Saturday’s of the year at the end of April they were taking part in a charity polo match at Blenheim Palace. George and Alex were taking advantage of both being on the same team and there being a break in play to take shelter in one of the canvas tents, so George could have his minor breakdown in relative privacy.

“It doesn’t sound like an arranged marriage-”

“What else would you call it then?!” George exclaimed abruptly, failing his arms wide as he spoke. It was a wonder he’d managed to hold on to his polo mallet.

“Careful George,” Alex cast a cautious look at his friend. “You’ll either hurt someone or yourself with that thing.”

“Well,” George scoffed. “I’m about to have a husband who’ll take care of everything for me so who gives a fu-” Strangely, and thankfully, George was holding his mallet at the hammer end. And right as he swung his arm holding the mallet wide, a figure walked into the tent and yelled loudly when the end of the handle smacked into their nose.

Alex was on the scene almost immediately, first checking to see if the person’s nose was broken and secondly hurriedly looking around for a first aid kit. George meanwhile was completely frozen into place as his mind went into overdrive with recalling all of the guests at the polo match, and who would be the absolute worst case scenario to break their nose. All George could see was a masculine frame, dark skinned hands and fine braids tied in a ponytail.

“Ah… fuck,” The man winced as he removed his hands from his face, revealing himself to be Sir Lewis Hamilton, the eldest son of the Duke and Duchess of Northamptonshire. He’d been fairly high up the worst case scenario list mainly because George didn’t know him all that well. They’d said hello at the odd gala, discussed a speech here and there, nothing more.

“I am… so sorry I-”

Lewis looked up at George with dark brown eyes that didn’t exactly look pleased, once again causing George’s brain to freeze.

“Is it broken?” George said instead of an apology.

“No I don’t think so,” Lewis however did dab at the blood slowly coming out of his nose and grimaced right as Alex returned with a first aid kit. George hadn’t even noticed that he’d left.

“I have loads of brothers and sisters,” Alex said with a shy laugh, waving his hands around in Lewis’ direction. “I’ve dealt with nosebleeds my whole life, this is nothing.” There was something about Alex’s flippancy for the whole situation, as if sons of Dukes walked into tents where Princes were swinging about polo mallets all the time, that seemed to relax both Lewis and George while Alex patched Lewis up. “There, good as new… though maybe take it easy for the rest of the day just in case.” He cast a cautious look over Lewis before closing the first aid kit with a firm click.

“Thank you.” Lewis gave Alex a small nod before glancing over at George, who had been absolutely no help despite very much being the cause of the problem. “And sorry for disturbing you, Your Highness… I’m clearly in the wrong tent.” Before George could string together an appropriate apology in his head, Lewis had left the tent almost as quickly as he’d arrived.

George immediately dropped his polo mallet and flopped down into the nearest chair. He buried his head in his hands and had to fight the urge to claw his fingers into his scalp. First the fact that he was only six days away from meeting the first of the three potential husbands his parents had picked out for him, now he’d almost broken the nose of a very well respected member of society. George silently hoped for his sake that he never saw Lewis Hamilton ever again, he’d probably turn as red as his polo shirt.

Alex, ever the wonderful friend, gently patted George on the back in his moment of need.

“Just don’t hit any of the horses as well, I can’t help you with that.”

George looked up, and hoped for a split second that Alex would get hit by a stray bolt of lightning.

“Fuck you.”

It had been obvious from the moment George woke up that the palace staff had been in overdrive since at least 6am. At breakfast he could see clusters of people walking briskly up and down the corridors and stairwells that led to the palace kitchen. The first of George’s potential husbands would be arriving for afternoon tea at exactly 3pm, and from the second he’d finished his last bite of toast his parents had been hovering over and around him like incessant bees.

Remember to smile George, remember your etiquette George, be charming George. No don’t wear the green tie it’s goo garish, the ice blue one brings out your eyes. Stop frowning George. Your hair is too curly today George, it needs to be more slicked back.

By 11am he wanted to lock himself in the nearest cupboard for all eternity.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Marcus said with a long sigh at lunch. Chef had made leek and potato soup and George could barely stomach looking at it. “But today might not be as terrible as you think.”

“Am I not at least allowed to know who I’m meeting today?” George looked out the window of his state apartment that had a wonderful view of The Mall. It was yet another gorgeous Spring day with a bright blue sky. The leaves in the trees were undisturbed by any breeze and the tourist crowd in front of the palace gates was slightly larger than usual – probably due to the good weather.

“Sadly not, your parents want it to be a surprise.”

George scoffed and slouched in his chair just to prove a point even though his parents weren’t there to see it. “Do they think we’re going to have some miraculous love at first sight sort of thing?”

“Probably.” Marcus said dryly, and finished the last bite of his dinner roll. “You should eat, I’m certainly not doing any of this on an empty stomach.”

George finally turned away from the window and looked down at the plate in front of him. Next to his bread roll was a small pat of garlic butter, instead of plain. Chef always knew how much George liked it. With a small smile, George sat up and slowly ate his soup that was thankfully still warm.

At ten to three he was changed into his slate grey three piece suit with a pale blue tie fastened in a Windsor knot, and walked behind his parents to the courtyard entrance where mystery future husband number one (as Alex had decided to call him) would be arriving by car any second. Already George’s hands felt clammy and his shirt collar too tight, but he took in a deep breath and buried his discomfort as far down as he could. If his parents wanted the handsome, charming Prince to be on show then that was exactly who they would get.

Once George was stood just behind and adjacent to his parents he quickly glanced over at Marcus out of the corner of his eye, and saw his secretary looking back at him with a reassuring smile.

George would be fine, he’d eventually realised after lunch. He’d been to countless state dinners, charity galas and banquets, over the course of his life. This afternoon tea would probably last an hour at most. If anything George was starting to worry about his mystery suitor, and if he knew exactly what he was about to walk in to.

Through one of the windows George saw a black Mercedes enter the courtyard and he stood a little bit straighter while Andrew, the palace’s Chief of Staff, went outside to greet him. All George heard was the sound of a door opening and a mumbling of voices. The heavy wooden door and stone palace walls were too thick for any distinct sound to pass through.

“Sir Lewis Hamilton, Your Majesty.” Andrew announced when he walked back through the door. George blinked rapidly, certain that he’d misheard and that someone else was three paces behind Andrew. But then Lewis, Sir Lewis, walked in wearing a pale grey suit with a lavender jacquard waistcoat and matching tie, with one of his staff following close behind him. The man, who wore glasses and had short, dark hair that was grey at the temples, shared a quick look and small nod with Marcus. The private secretaries of the British upper class did all know each other to some degree after all.

“Thank you for inviting me to the palace Your Majesty.” Lewis said to George’s father with a warm, bright smile, as if this was just another day for him. George on the other hand could feel beads of sweat forming at his temple and on the back of his neck. He felt warm all over, and that his shirt collar was about to strangle him at any moment. Though the ground swallowing him whole without any warning would have been much more preferable.

“Thank you so much for coming.” His mother’s gentle hand on George’s shoulder somewhat pulled him back into the present.

“I’m afraid my wife and I have a rather busy schedule today, but Prince George will be joining you for tea.”

Lewis looked over at George, his eyes all warm and dark brown and… had a small twinge of concern within them.

“Please just call me George.” The words rapidly flew out of his mouth before Lewis could bow say ‘Your Highness’.

“George.” Lewis said softly, and even with a small smile. George was starting to wonder if the polo match last week had just been a bizarre fever dream. It was almost like the mallet incident had been completely forgotten about. Or, much more likely, Sir Lewis Hamilton was an utterly fantastic actor and his talents were wasted on the aristocracy. “It’s an honour to meet you properly at last.”

George’s mother quickly cleared her throat. George should have instigated a handshake by now.

“The pleasure’s mine,” He jutted his right hand out, and every single muscle in his arm was tense as he watched Lewis’ hand glide into his. The handshake was firm, but warm. All George could think about was how soft Lewis’ skin was beneath his fingers. “I…”

“Tea is being served on the West Terrace, perhaps afterwards George can take you on a tour of the gardens…” The soft tones of The Queen’s voice caused Lewis to drop George’s hand and fall in step with her as she, George’s father, Andrew, Lewis and the man George assumed to be his secretary all left the foyer while George’s feet remained glued to the stone floor.

“We’ll be just a minute.” Marcus said to Andrew quietly, the look on his face was enough for the two of them to be left alone. George had told Marcus about the incident with Lewis and the polo mallet in a blind panic while they were in the car on their way back to the palace. Marcus had just reassured him that so long as Lewis didn’t need to go to hospital then it would all be a simple mishap that would be forgotten about in a few weeks.

Once George and Marcus were alone in the foyer, George allowed himself one whole second to breathe before speaking with a rather freeing sense of clarity.

“I’m flinging myself off the nearest balcony.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.” George nodded to himself and took a firm step towards the courtyard.

“No- George,” The sternness in Marcus’ voice was what managed to stop George in his tracks, and he slowly turned round. “You are going to be yourself, and see this through.”

“You say that as if you’ve had a hand in all of this.” George looked at his personal secretary of just over 18 months with a heavy frown.

Marcus rolled his eyes and tucked his folio under his arm so he could quickly fix George’s tie.

“I wasn’t going to let your parents marry you off to the first eligible man they saw you know.”

George let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If anything, you can use this as an opportunity to properly apologise for being such an idiot.”

George couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, it was better than crying or being distressed about the strange scenario he found himself in. And after catching his breath and giving himself the smallest of peptalks, he walked alongside Marcus over to the West terrace.

“My apologies,” George flashed a perfectly charming smile at his parents. “I couldn’t decide if I needed my sunglasses, it’s so bright today.” He turned to Lewis who was stood with his hands clasped behind his back. A round table had been set out on the stone terrace with two chairs sat opposite each other. While no cakes or scones were in sight, it had been draped with a crisp white table cloth and had the palace’s finest tableware in front of each chair with the afternoon sun glinting off the silver cutlery. “Has someone asked what tea you’d like?” George asked Lewis, remembering to be the attentive host.

“Green please, if that’s possible.”

“Certainly, I’ll inform the kitchen.” Andrew said and almost immediately disappeared inside. George’s parents, plus Marcus and Lewis’ secretary followed suit, leaving George and Lewis alone. The air remained still with no hint of a breeze, and in the distance George could hear the sound of birds tweeting in the trees. It was quite perfect.

“You’re welcome to sit down, any chair you like.”

Lewis opted for the chair closest to him, and quietly sat down. George quickly did the same.

“I um…” He didn’t know where to begin. The apology for almost breaking Lewis’ nose, or revealing to Lewis why he was really at the palace. “I have to apologise for what happened at the polo match at Blenheim Palace last week,” He curled his hands into fists under the table so he could maintain eye contact with Lewis.

“It was my own fault,” Lewis briefly bit down on his bottom lip. “I should have knocked… well you can’t knock on a tent but you know what I mean.” He added with a shy laugh. “I wanted to introduce myself to you somewhere quiet before all of this.” He vaguely waved a hand around in the air, gesturing to the palace and grounds around him.

George once again found himself dumfounded in Sir Lewis Hamilton’s presence without a single word coming out of his mouth. “You know?! About…” He spluttered before trailing off in disbelief.

“Well, in the sense that Bono and I put two and two together. Especially when you were all your father talked about when he sought me out last week.” Lewis paused as one of the doors opened and their afternoon tea was brought out. George’s parents must have insisted on the china, white patterned with blush pink. It was the same set used at Cara’s wedding breakfast.

“Thank you Matt.” George said with a smile to the palace’s Head Butler.

“You’re welcome Your Highness, Sir Hamilton.” He bowed slightly, and quickly left.

The scones, tiny lemon tarts, macarons and finger sandwiches would all have been made fresh, as by the looks of things was the small dishes of strawberry and apricot jam.

“Go ahead, please,” George waved a hand at the table. “You do not need to start eating when I do.”

Lewis snickered, and poured himself tea. George watched the pale green liquid flow seamlessly from the spout of the teapot to the teacup, and waited until Lewis had set the pot back down before speaking again.

“And if you need anything else please just ask.” George reached for his own teapot, which would likely be filled with steaming Earl Grey, and filled his cup before adding a splash of milk.

“So, is this were we get to know each other?” Lewis first examined the contents of the tea stand, and then quickly glanced over at George.

Most of what George knew about Lewis came from passing comments and snippets of news articles. He had interests in fashion and music, and was apparently quite the skilled pianist. And as for George, most of his life had the tendency to get splashed across the front pages. Everyone knew his secrets moments after George had discovered them.

They talked about the weather, and the food in front of them. Lewis said with a small blush in his cheeks that he hoped George’s parents weren’t secretly watching from a window on the first floor. And while George didn’t say it out loud, he didn’t put it past them. It was a shame really, if George’s parents weren’t the King and Queen of the United Kingdom, he would probably get on with them quite well.

“If you’d figured out that my parents are only interested in marrying me off…” George shook his head and sighed once he’d finished his first sandwich. He was grateful at least that he hadn’t been the one to drop the bombshell right on Lewis’ head. “I’m very surprised you still came here.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, and glanced over his shoulder at the perfectly manicured lawn that was once again set to host many a garden party this Summer. One of them had likely been earmarked for George to attend with his new boyfriend, whoever he turned out to be.

“I might not be royalty, but I’m still nobility.” Lewis spoke with the air of the son of a Duke. The Larbalestier’s had been gifted the peerage of Northamptonshire over a century ago, and it had caused quite a stir at the time when Lewis’ father married into the family. But their reputation within society was spotless. Lewis had earned his Knighthood through his various charity work, both through sports and the arts to give children from disadvantaged and ethnic minority backgrounds a chance that no one else would.

“In an ideal world, at least according to my father,” Lewis continued. “I would have gotten married myself a long time ago.” There had been rumours of Lewis being involved with a German socialite just over ten years ago, and even louder speculation of a rather messy break up that followed three years later. “At least this way… maybe we both get some kind of say in how this will all play out.”

George bit down on his lip and looked down at his empty plate while his leg started to bounce nervously.

“We hardly know each other.” George’s voice came out breathless, like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs.

“From what I’ve heard, you seem like a very good man.”

George had to fight himself not to scoff in reply. Whoever Lewis’ source was, it probably wasn’t Alex.

“You’re clearly very brave if you’re willing to jump head first into The Royal Family.” George gulped and reached out for a sandwich, ham and mustard by the looks of it, and immediately let it fall onto his plate with a small thud.

“Like I said,” Lewis paused to bring his teacup to his lips. “I’m nobility already, I know exactly what I’d be getting myself in for.”

George could see it all now, the headlines, the news features, the questions, jokes about who would propose to who… it sounded like hell. As if the spotlight on him wasn’t bright enough. It was part of the reason why George had never gone out of his way to find someone, he was too terrified at what that kind of pressure would do to someone from the outside. That they might end up resenting George forever for something he had no way of controlling.

“Why me?”

“I’ve heard you speak a lot about how you wish your family would do more, not just with charity work but… real lasting action. That was what you said in your speech at the COP summit last year right?”

George slowly nodded. He had no idea Lewis had been in attendance, let alone had found George’s opening speech so interesting that he’d chosen to remember it.

“Well, maybe together we can.”

Lewis had clearly been thinking about the practicalities of the potential arrangement a lot longer than George had. Marriages in the Royal Family were never just for love, it was about spectacle and image and simply just doing what was expected. And while credit where credit was due this iteration of the monarchy had been free from scandal, but to some they weren’t very interesting either. George could immediately see his parents plans now, host a big Royal wedding while making themselves look relevant to society at the same time. Quite the power move.

“Believe me when I say that I’ve spent a long time this past week thinking about this.” Lewis said firmly. “And I like to think that… if any shit hit the fan I would have my husband there to support me, and vice versa.”

“Yes… yes of course you would.” George said quietly, with every ounce of sincerity he could muster. While he still wasn’t particularly keen on the idea, he still like to think himself as capable of being kind to the poor soul who ended up marrying him.

He let out a long shaky breath, and ate his second sandwich in two bites. Very undignified behaviour for such a handsome young Prince.

“I still feel like I have to apologise for you ending up being involved in all of this.” George said once he’d taken a large gulp of his tea. Lewis just looked down at the crumbs on his plate and let out a small hum.

“As I said, my parents want me to be engaged within a year since they’re… rather desperate for me to not be single any longer. And it’s not that I don’t want a family someday, because I do,” As Lewis looked up at George, he could see a small flicker of warmth in his eyes. “I just want to have some choice over who I spend the rest of my life with.”

“And you feel like this is you having a choice.” George scoffed, and picked up a macaron without looking and ate it in one bite.

“I could have just about gotten out of this if I wanted. You would be amazed at the number of dinners Bono has managed to get me out of.” Lewis said with a small shake of the head. “Sorry, I’m supposed to call him Peter in such a formal setting, but he hates it.”

It was strange. It was almost like Lewis was giving George advise on how to say hello to Bono when they met for the first time. As if all of this was going to go somewhere.

“But, if I’m not to your taste then-”

“Oh no!” George exclaimed so loudly his knee accidentally hit the bottom of the table and caused everything to move a couple of millimetres. “Your complete honesty is… so refreshing. You’ve no idea.” Lewis was also unbearably handsome. Well-groomed stubble that looked stylish, not scruffy. Flawless skin that glowed in the sunshine, and deep brown eyes that despite everything were so warm, and kind. George told himself not to think about how well fitted Lewis’ suit was to his frame. “I just… this has all been sprung on me quite suddenly.”

“Ah,” Lewis nodded, a knowing look on his face. Silence fell over the table and a soft breeze briefly brushed over George’s skin. It seemed to help reset his brain as he let out a small sigh.

“I know it was my mother’s suggestion, but if you would like to see the gardens I’d be happy to give you a tour. We can come back to this afterwards.”

Lewis smiled, and it briefly turned into a grin. “I’d like that.”

George called for Matt, who he knew would be waiting just inside to cater to any of Lewis’ and George’s whims, and he asked for the tea stands to be covered while George and Lewis walked round the palace gardens. Matt gave a small nod of his head, and said of course, adding that the rose garden had looked particularly lovely this morning.

Lewis gestured for George to lead the way, and George waited so he and Lewis could walk side by side down the long path towards the rose garden.

“Now we can have some actual privacy.” Already George’s shoulders felt ten times lighter as he ran a hand through his hair to loosen some of the gel. It was such a small thing, but already he felt so much more like himself. “We can compare notes on our parents scheming if you’d like?”

Lewis’ snort quickly turned into a bright laugh, his eyes even crinkled at the corners.

“What’s your favourite film?” Lewis asked instead. And truth be told it did feel better doing the getting to know you questions like this, completely away from prying eyes. They exchanged films, songs, and their shared belief at just how absurd their lives really were by the time they’d reached the wrought iron gate that led to the rose garden.

George pulled the gate open and gestured for Lewis to go first. He stopped a few paces in to look around, and let out a small wonderous sigh. If George had been asked what his favourite part of the palace grounds was, he gave the gardens as a generic answer. But very few people knew that the rose garden was actually his favourite. He frequently took breakfast here in the Summer, and sometimes just liked to sit and read a book while time passed around him.

“The rose garden was my Grandfather’s first wedding anniversary present to my Grandmother,” George explained as he and Lewis began their slow walk round. It was set out in an oval with a small stone fountain in the middle that you could just about sit of the edge of without falling in. “My Grandma loved roses, so my Grandfather had this built for her.”

“What? Just like that?” Lewis said with a snap of his fingers. George immediately noticed the delicate tattoos inked onto his skin before humming in reply. “Wow,” Lewis’ eyes briefly widened. “He must have really loved her.”

“Yeah… yes they loved each other very much.” George said quietly, his eyes trained on the ultra-fine gravel that crunched beneath the soles of his black leather shoes. When he finally looked up upon realising that Lewis hadn’t said anything, George saw him paused in front of a bush of bright yellow roses in full bloom. Lewis delicately ran his index finger along the edge of one of the petals before leaning down to inhale its scent. “I wish I could tell you all the different varieties we have, but botany was never my strong suit.” Like many of the previous royals, George had studied politics at university before his quick stint in the air force.

“What do you like to do in your spare time?” Lewis asked, looked back up at George with his head slightly tilted to the side. “What do you do when you’re just George?”

George coughed out a small laugh. “As tragic as it sounds, I don’t get to be ‘just George’ very often.”

“But when you do…” Lewis asked again, clearly not wanting to let the point go. George let out a long sigh and let his shoulders sink down a couple of centimetres. He hated talking about his interests to other people in case he sounded dreadfully boring.

“I like photography, I’m not very good at it but I enjoy it. On a quiet day our head chef lets me into the kitchen and he teaches me a new recipe. It’s a wonder I haven’t chopped all my fingers off by now, but Riki’s very patient.” George’s cheeks flushed red as he glanced down at the ground and let out a nervous laugh. Lewis just stayed smiling at him. “What about you? What do you do when you’re… just Lewis?”

Lewis talked at great length about music, but also fashion. How he’d helped designed the suit he was currently wearing amongst others. That he loved it as a creative outlet while also giving himself some control over his identity, and that he only dressed for himself and not the approval of others. It sounded so freeing. In the past George had often heard whispers at galas over people gushing over what the son of the Duke of Northamptonshire was wearing, sometimes George had managed to catch a glimpse of him, and other’s he was left feeling disappointed when he didn’t.

They found themselves halfway round the rose garden before either of them had really noticed.

“You do have a say in this you know.” Lewis said with a raised eyebrow, turning the conversation back to the whole marriage fiasco. George wasn’t so sure. The only thing he knew was that he really didn’t want to go through this again, and meet whoever else his parents had lined up for him. Would they be as understanding as Lews was? As thoughtful? George assumed not.

And maybe it all felt very easy, choosing Lewis after being with him for barely an hour. Like he was once again doing exactly once his parents were telling him to do. But there was something in the immediate comfort George felt from being around Lewis that he didn’t want to let go of. It was a kind of safety he’d only ever felt with Alex or Marcus.

“A part of me hoped when I was thinking about all of this last night,” When he had been tossing and turning in bed, more accurately. “That… so long as I’m getting married as my parents want, I will as you say, have some input in how it all happens.” George knew he wouldn’t get left alone completely. His first public appearance with his new partner would probably be at Wimbledon. The Trooping of the Colour was both too soon and far too formal for George to suddenly show up out of the blue with a boyfriend. Not a soul would care about the parade at that point. And the engagement would be planned to within an inch of its life.

But George was starting to hope that if he did pick Lewis, then maybe he would at the very least get a friend out of it all. And most importantly he seemed to be fully aware of what he was doing.

“You’re really sure about all of this?” George asked Lewis firmly, looking right into his eyes to get a read on his frame of mind.

“Of all the options I have… this is the best one. Believe me.”

George admired his determination. If Lewis was going to become a Prince he was going to need it. Lewis seemed to have it in spades, as he was the only to hold his hand out for George to shake, like he was offering a deal.

“Will you marry me?” He said not completely sarcastically.

George let himself throw his head back and laugh so much his shoulders shook. The rose garden had played host to both Benjy’s and Cara’s engagement announcements, chances were it would be the venue for George’s too. He could see it all now flashing before him in his mind. Their first formal appearance together, the engagement announcement next Autumn, how probably in two years’ time to the day George would be waiting for Lewis at the end of the aisle in Westminster Abbey with his new title on his shoulders and Lewis walking towards him, and all the state visits that would follow for the rest of their lives. And, as Lewis had said, all the good they could do together.

George pressed his lips together and nodded, before clasping Lewis’ hand with his.

“I will.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Weapon

@jegulus-microfic March 29 Word count 926

Previous part First part

They stayed in the pool for a while, relaxing, washing the stresses of the last few weeks away. They had destroyed the Horcruxes, and now all that was left was the man himself. 

“Don’t you think that was all a little too easy?” Lily said to the group. “Shouldn’t there have been more of a fight from the Horcruxes or a swarm of Death Eaters descending on us?” The rest of the group began to look worried and spun their heads to peer into the gloomy forest. Barty, though, seemed cool as can be. 

“Na,” He grinned, head lolling back onto the bank as his eyes slid shut. “The reason they weren’t properly protected and were relatively easy to find is because old Mouldy Voldy is an—”

“Arrogant bastard!” They all chanted together in a dull monotone, cutting him off. 

“Exactly!” Barty snickered. “He assumes he is the most intelligent wizard of his age. He didn’t think anyone would figure out that he’d made the Horcruxes, so he didn’t bother putting any effort into concealing them. He gave the cup and the diary to Bella and Lucy, thinking their fear of him would make them put them in Gringotts, but forgot to factor in their need to show off. He’s completely underestimated everyone below him. The only wizard he thinks of as a peer is Dumbledore, and Dumbledore isn’t searching for Horcruxes, so why would anyone else? And I bet the only reason the Locket was harder to get than the rest was because he’s only just made it before he hid it in the cave where muggles might have walked into. Plus, with the amount of times, he’s fractured his soul and the amount of physical change his body had gone through because of it, I doubt he even felt them being destroyed.” He opened his eyes when the others didn’t say anything. “What?” He questioned. 

“Barty, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so many sensible words in one go, ever,” Regulus said incredulously. 

“I think he’s right, though,” Evan said, glancing around to see what the others thought. 

“Weirdly, it does actually make sense.” Remus agreed. 

When they’d had enough, they exited the pool, dried, dressed, and left the forest. 

“You did amazing, you know,” James told Regulus as they walked through the undergrowth. “I’m so proud of you.” James took Regulus’s hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. Regulus felt lighter than he had since before he’d left Hogwarts. They might actually be able to finish this and survive. 

They cast disillusionment charms on themselves just as they reached the edge of the forest and felt the change in the air as they walked through the anti-apparition wards. 

Hogsmeade looked exactly the same as usual. Perhaps Barty was right. Maybe no one knew what they’d managed to do. Then, a familiar figure appeared, walking away from Honeydukes with a bulging bag.

Someone pushed past Regulus and ran forward. 

“Who was that?” He asked urgently, unable to see who wasn’t beside him anymore. 

“Sirius!” Remus croaked. Together, they moved forward in the direction Peter had headed. Regulus spotted the plump man turning a corner and totally disappearing. 

“Sirius!” He hissed as he closed the gap. “Sirius!”

“I’ve got him!” Sirius’s voice came out of thin air. 

“Can you apparate with him?” He asked hurriedly. Sirius didn’t say anything. “Sirius, I can’t see if you nodded your head.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Oh yeah, sorry. But yes, I can apparate us both.”

“Good, get him back to Evan’s. We’ll deal with him later. Remus and I need to get back to Grimmauld.” He turned in the direction he guessed everyone else was standing. “Evan, have you got somewhere secure you can keep him that’s secure?”

“Yes, fathers got a cell in the basement.” Evans's bodiless voice answered. 

“Okay, everyone else, go back to Rosier House. Remus and I will meet you there when we can get away. James, you’ve got your mirror, don’t you?”

“Yes,” James said, his voice closer than Regulus had expected. 

“Right, let’s go.” He spun, and he was one street over to Grimmauld Place. He removed the disillusionment charm and apparated again outside number 12 at the same time that Remus did. 

“Ah, Son, you’re home!” Orion greeted them as they walked through the door. “Your Mother’s in the drawing room awaiting your return.” Reluctantly, Regulus followed his father up to where his mother waited.

“Regulus,” Walburga greeted. “I assume you’re lead was fruitful?” He’d practised what to say in case she asked, so the words came easily. 

“Yes, Maman. Unfortunately, he slipped through our fingers like the slippery creature he is. I did manage to knick him with Bella’s blade, but he was gone before I could do any real damage.” Walburga held out her hand. It took Regulus a second to realise what she wanted. Carefully, he pulled the weapon from his robes and handed it over. 

“Did you clean this blade?” She asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Yes, Maman.” She waved her wand over it and muttered a spell that Regulus couldn’t quite hear. A blood-red ghostly figure which resembled Sirius rose from the tip of the dagger. Walburga ended the spell and handed it back. 

“The Dark Lord will not be pleased by your failure.” She said, dismissing him. 

“We will try again in the morning. We will not fail the Dark Lord.” He bowed before leaving the room. He smirked as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. They’d definitely find Sirius again tomorrow.       

Next part

[ovaryacted]

For that prompt game thingy

99 with leon x slasher reader maybe :0

Hey!! Thank you for requesting! I'm literally so sorry this took me such a long time to write and it turned out much longer than I anticipated. I've never really done anything dark-ish or with suspense, so I wanted to take a shot at it and see what my brain came up with but of course, it took me a while lol. I think for this one probably RE2R Leon, just him as a regular cop, and he lives in a city so dealer’s choice. Anyways, hopefully, this is interesting cause I’m a little nervous lolz. :) [ prompt game ]

99. “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.” RE2R Leon x reader [cw: slightly dark themes, mentions of body parts & violence] - 1.5k words

It hasn't been long since Leon started his new job as a rookie cop, excited was an understatement. Yet it seemed as if the universe had given him the worst possible combination of a new role and what seemed to be someone on a killing spree.

The first case happened a few weeks ago, a young male was reported to be slashed over his torso. It was one knife wound to the upper chest, clean and efficient, followed by another to the lung and one more up the stomach. Leon was on the scene, answering the call of a distressed citizen when they found the body in an alleyway, and the sight was enough to make him nauseous. It was seen as a premeditated murder case, but there were no traces of the perpetrator left behind. No fingerprints, no lost weapons, nothing.

Like a ghost in the wind, it was a dead end.

The more experienced agents took over the investigation, and Leon was back to being a cop. He thought it was over, that he’d be able to go back on patrol duty and ride along in his car.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

The murders became more frequent, almost for show, and the way the deaths were done became more theatric as time passed. Week after week, more people began to disappear from the city, mostly male victims each torn apart in exuberant ways. A gash up the spine, a straight slash across the neck, another had an arm and leg detached from the person's torso. But the main wound on the chest of each victim was the only controlled variable between all of them.

Either way, it seemed like someone was enjoying their time passionately tearing other people apart.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it”, Leon mumbled to himself as you washed up the dishes in the kitchen after dinner. He had been out working on these cases tirelessly, constantly on patrol, and barely been home with you as a result of everything piling up.

“Who just goes around and starts randomly killing people? I mean, this feels like some shit out of a horror movie”, he continued to speak, raising his head to look at the back of your head.

“Some people are just crazy like that. You know how people get inspiration from those crazed fanatics on those cult forums”, you commented, finishing washing the cooking pot you had in the sink and putting it on the drying rack.

“If it was one thing I wasn’t expecting, was to deal with a mass murderer the first few weeks of my damn job”, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as the stress was starting to take its toll.

“Just your luck huh?”, you said with a teasing smirk, wiping the knife you were cleaning with a soapy sponge.

You were almost methodical with the way you handled the blade, watching the suds sliding off of it as you rinsed it, careful not to cut yourself. You dried it with one of the dishtowels you threw to the side, the metal gleaming under the kitchen light. Giving it one last good wipe you put it back in the wooden block along with the rest of your knife collection.

“Maybe what you need is a vacation. Away from this mess. You have some PTO you could take right?”, you asked as you walked towards him, sitting on his lap while he remained seated on the dining room chair. He pondered for a bit, watching how you flicked the ends of his hair and curled it around your finger.

“I mean I do but…the chief might not like it if I left so abruptly. Don’t want to make the wrong impression”, he contemplated it, trying to fight you on your words but it was something on his mind.

“You need a break Leon, from all of this. Say it’s a family emergency or something. I hate seeing you so stressed like this baby”, you pouted at him, lips puckering out as you kissed him on the tip of the nose. “Just a few days, that’s all I’m asking”

He caressed your lower back affectionately as you sat on his lap, feeling your hands squeezing his shoulders and rubbing his chest. The nagging voice in his head kept thinking about your proposition, the image of being away with you and just enjoying his time sounded beyond appealing. It wouldn’t be so bad right? He glanced at you and gave you a small smile.

“A break doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll see if I can snag a couple of days off okay?”, Leon said to you, and you cheered happily at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“We'll go take a little vacation. Just you and me”, your eyes held that promise of excitement as they bore into Leon’s, content that he was at least going to try for your sake.

You were patient as you waited for any sign of Leon possibly getting time off, thinking that you wouldn’t have any luck with the way things were. But the moment you were granted a win once he spoke to the chief, you nearly jumped on top of him from joy. It didn’t take long before you both packed your bags and drove off into the mountains, renting a cabin that would be good for a weekend of leisure. The both of you were excited to finally get away from all the chaos in the city and to just spend some quality time together.

But what you envisioned when it came to a vacation was completely different from what Leon had in mind.

He didn’t recall how it happened. One minute you two were having dinner, eating some steak and potatoes paired with some red wine. The next, his head felt dizzy as he struggled to keep himself upright, calling out your name before his vision faded to black.

Now he found himself with his arms and ankles tied together by some rope, slouched on the floor and disheveled. He didn’t know how he managed to get into this precarious situation, but it was all giving him whiplash. The wood paneling of the walls was different, it was dim and quiet in the cabin and his surroundings were unusual.

Was he back at the cabin? Was he still in the same place with you? Where were you?

His mind was going a mile a minute and his nerves were on high, the skills he’s developed from being a cop going into overdrive to come up with a solution. Leon started looking around, scrabbling to find anything to help him free his hands so he could look for you.

But that’s when he heard it, when your bubbly laughter filtered through the crisp air surrounding him. His ears perked up the sound, perceptive blue eyes observing you diligently as you came into view. There was a dark and twisted grin on your face, something he’s never seen before.

“What the hell is going on?”, he was confused, couldn’t make sense of the current circumstances. But all he wondered was why you looked at him as if he were a meal. Some plaything for your enjoyment.

“Well, I needed to get you out of here. I couldn’t keep having you on my trail sweetheart. That’s when the fun ends”, in your hand was the familiar kitchen blade, shiny and sharpened, gleaming despite the darkness of the room you were both in. It took a second before the realization hit him, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as a wave of overlapping emotions washed over him.

“It was you?”, his eyes widened as he watched you, finally connecting the dots. The slasher he’d been looking for was right under his nose the entire time, so deeply hidden he didn’t even think it was possible. He was sleeping with the devil, and it made his stomach churn.

“Why? Why did you do it?!”, it felt like his entire world was falling apart, his sense of normalcy that he had worked so hard to achieve was gone in the blink of an eye. And he couldn’t do anything to save it.

“Had some things to take care of, needed to get my stress out somehow. Sorry if I have hobbies”, this was all a joke to you, if anything it was entertaining to see Leon suffer.

“It doesn’t have to be like this. Nothing bad has to happen here”, he felt pathetic as he begged, looking at you in hopes of finding any trace of morality left.

All you could do was laugh at him, loud and shameless. You took a step closer, crouching down to his level as you grazed the tip of the knife from his throat up towards his chin. Your gaze darkened and your smile curled, sending a chill down Leon’s spine.

“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[leegemma]

Heyyy (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Hope you had a good week so far ♡

Could I maybe request a Ler!Ricky (Zb1) fiction? You can choose the scenario and the Lee ♡

Have a Happy start in the new year love ♡

(pls don't stress and tc of yourself)

-🐝

Took me so so long to get to this one, I am so sorry

I did have a great start of the year though and I hope you did too, love 🥹🫶

I hope you like this fic even though it feels a little lazy, I wrote it at work 🤫

Enjoy:)

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

"Ricky is stupid~" Gyuvin teased as he watched Ricky try and solve a riddle given by the staff.

The two always bickered and played around, but for some reason this specific comment hurt Ricky as he tried to focus on the riddle instead of Gyuvin.

"There's no way Ricky can solve this~" Gyuvin continued with a laugh, still not noticing the fact Ricky wasn't laughing with him.

Ricky shook his head quickly, trying to get rid of Gyuvin's voice.

The puppy giggled with the rest of the members as they all observed Ricky squinting his eyes at the riddle, hoping it's not his brain that's the problem, but his eyes.

"We're gonna be here all day..." Gyuvin whined playfully. Throwing his head back, finally nothing Ricky's sour face when Hanbin tapped his shoulder slightly to get him to stop the teasing.

Gyuvin was confused. He didn't know why Ricky was so upset, but he did know that it made him feel bad.

The filming finished and the members walked out happily together, getting into the car that will drive them back to the dorms. Gyuvin turned around while walking only to notice Ricky walking by himself, looking down at the ground.

Gyuvin decided to give the blond some time before approaching feeling worse and worse with every second that passed.

As the members made it to the dorm, they decided to all go out for dinner, Ricky saying he'll stay in and Gyuvin being quick to reply that he will too.

The boys all left, and Ricky went and closed himself in his room. Gyuvin quickly walked after the boy and knocked on the door twice before opening it slowly. "Ricky?"

Ricky sat on his bed, looking up at Gyuvin with a blank expression. Immediately prompting Gyuvin to burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry! I was trying to joke and I didn't know how much it'll hurt you! I'm so so sorry!" The younger ran up to the bed and lached onto Ricky while sobbing.

Ricky couldn't help but smile. Biting the inside of his cheeks to try to get himself to stop. "It's fihine"

"No it's not!" Gyuvin kept sobbing. "I was being arrogant! I'm sorry!"

Ricky couldn't contain his laughter anymore. "It's okay! I forgive you. I was just annoyed but it's fine. We always tease each other."

Gyuvin raised his head to look at Ricky. "I'm really sorry"

Ricky rolled his eyes and poked at Gyuvin's side.

"Hehey! That's my thing..." Gyuvin replied, slightly rosey cheeks appearing.

Ricky smirked. "If you're really sorry then you'd let me tickle you."

"W-what?" Gyuvin asked, dumbfounded.

Ricky shrugged. "You heard me."

"You- you can't do that!"

Ricky raised his hands in defence. "I'm not doing anything! I'm just saying, if you're sorry, you'll keep your arms up and let me tickle you."

"That was not the deal!" The younger cried out and shoved at Ricky.

"We didn't close on any deal yet." Ricky's smirk only got bigger.

"Please, Ricky!!" Gyuvin begged. "I'll do anything."

"Well then you'll do what I asked you to!" Ricky giggled.

Gyuvin leaned back. "... how long?"

"20 minutes." Ricky let out after thinking for a second.

"RICKY!"

The cat giggled. "Okay fine. Five minutes. Arms up. No interrupting. You'll do it if you're really sorry."

"That's manipulation..." Gyuvin hissed out as he layed down, his arms folded and resting under his head.

"Call it whatever you want." Ricky said, sitting on the boy's hips.

Gyuvin Immediately started giggling. "Wahahait, I don't think I can."

"You can do anything you put your mind to, Kim Gyuvin!" Ricky said as he reached to claw at his friend's tummy, giggling when Gyuvin screamed and almost brought his hands down. "Hands have to stay up!"

"Shut uhuhup!!" Gyuvin trashed and squealed in suprise when Ricky pushed a single finger in his belly button.

"Did you just squeal?" Ricky teased with a laugh of his own.

"I SWEAHAR RIHIHICKY!!!!"

Ricky dug into Gyuvin's armpits with all his ticklish might. "Alright, all you have to say is that I'm smarter than you."

"MY MOHOHOM TOLD ME TO NEVEHEHER LIE" Gyuvin somehow managed to spit out.

"Careful there~" Ricky threatened as he moved to squeeze at Gyuvin's thighs and knees, getting some very good reactions.

"OKAHAHAHY!!!!" Gyuvin trashed and flopped.

"Say it!" Ricky started getting impatient.

"YOU'RE- OH MY GOHOD GIVE ME A BREAK! YOU'RE- SMARTER!" Gyuvin screamed, ensuring the whole neighbourhood could hear him.

"See that wasn't so hard was it?" Ricky patted the boy's back as he stopped the torture.

"Not hard? I thought I wahas gonna die..." Gyuvin shook his head.

Ricky rolled his eyes and stood up from the bed, offering Gyuvin a helping hand. "Wanna go join the others? They're probably not done just yet."

The younger boy stared at the hand, taking it and quickly pulling the blond back onto the bed, straddling him with a huge smirk. "I actually have a better idea..."

[fuckyeahhiccannamonth]

HIIIII HICCANNA NATION, long time no post!!!

Sooooo long story short, a bitch overcommitted HARD last year, and had like 17 Hiccanna month posts that I completely ran out of steam to finish. And then because I felt so guilty I didn't finish THOSE, I also didn't reblog all the incredibly awesome posts the rest of y'all made, and I'm really sorry for not giving my people the love and appreciation they deserve!!! And then, of course, my life from like October through like March became an absolute shitstorm, and I got semi-threatened with eviction and then friend-dumped by one of the most important people in my life D: It was a whole Ordeal™️, and sadly, my brain was too fried to think about my favorite awkward blorbos 💔

BUT BY GOD, THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO GET MY LIFE TOGETHER AND PULL THROUGH FOR ALL YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE WHO HAVE MADE THIS FUNKY LITTLE EVENT COME TO LIFE!!! I WILL finish reblogging all of last year's Hiccanna Month posts before the end of this month if it kills me!!! And by god, I WILL have this event again, because it's what y'all deserve!!! I don't have the spoons to post much of my own stuff this year (except maybe some leftovers from last year lol), but I'm going to be more on top of my shit about hyping anyone and everyone who decides to participate :3 I'm so grateful for each and every one of you, and I can't tell you how happy it's made me that you all have made this event for my little rarepair OTP bigger and better than I ever imagined 💚🧡💚🧡

I am, however, following suit for some of the other RotBTFD ship months and cutting down from one prompt a day to two per week for 8 prompts total, with an overarching theme for each week. I honestly don't have the spoons to do a prompt every day this year, although for future Hiccanna months, that could change. The two-a-week format seems to work better for a lot of people anyways, since I've gotten feedback that 31 prompts in a row is, er…pretty overwhelming, to say the least ^^; So two prompts a week for this year, and we will see if people like this format better!

@gryffindorkxdraws a tag for you, as promised 🩵

AND NOW, the prompt list!!! Apologies for only giving you guys a couple weeks of prep time—I know it's usually more ^^; But y'all know I'm flexible about late submissions, and it's totally fine if you submit for Hiccanna month after July! And who knows??? If I'm feeling spicy, I might tack on a bonus week for the first week of August 👀👀👀

WEEK 1—MUSIC Special thanks to @lovestrucklyuniverse for suggesting a focus on music from Hiccup and Anna's movies—I'm enamored with that!!! Of course, these prompts are just suggestions, and if you'd rather make something inspired by a pop song, alternative rock jam, or Eurovision ballad that reminds you of Hiccanna, then have at it!

1. For the Dancing and the Dreaming—A re-imagining of our favorite Viking wedding song with Hiccup and Anna! They're certainly the sort of people who would do all manner of impressive feats and grand gestures to win each other over, but the joke is on them—they don't need to! Sometimes, pledging love and devotion is enough, and there's no need to slay monsters or gift troves upon troves of treasure to prove yourself worthy of someone.

2. More Than Just the Spare—One of my absolute favorite things about these two is how they rise above being overlooked and underappreciated and accomplish some truly spectacular things. This prompt is all about Hiccup and Anna showing that they can be more than anyone ever expected them to be—preferably together, while being madly in love!

WEEK 2—MOVIES AND TV Let's be real—we've all dreamed of seeing Hiccup and Anna interact (and adorably butcher flirting several times) on the big screen. Whether it's through an epic Disney-Dreamworks crossover (god, we all wish, right?!) or imagining Best Awkward Blorbos in your favorite TV show, this week is all about Hiccanna slaying in visual media!

1. Romcoms—Have you ever watched a romcom and gone "You know what would make this better? If it was about Hiccanna!"? Furthermore, have you ever watched a romcom and gone "Well shit, this is literally just about Hiccanna!"? Well, now's your time! Make something inspired by your favorite Hiccanna-coded romcom, or a romcom you desperately believe needs more Hiccanna energy in it! Or, hell, make up a brand-new cheesy romcom plot for these two and make us all swoon 💞

2. Dramas—We forget it sometimes, but not everything in these two dorks' lives is sunshine and rainbows. Hiccup lost a whole-ass leg! Anna almost froze to death! They both grew up lonely, friendless, and (relatively) isolated from their communities! For this prompt, take your favorite drama and Hiccanna-ify it—or aplify the Hiccanna you already see! It can be any subgenre you want—coming-of-age drama, period drama, weird avant-garde indie drama, you name it! Subject those guys to some Dramatics™️ and let us see :3

WEEK 3—LITERATURE AND TEXT PROMPTS This week is all about something so many of us long to have an excuse to do--write about the blorbos! Whether you're looking to try your hand at fic for the first time or you're coming back to add more much-needed Hiccanna into our ever-sparse internet ecosystem, these text prompts will hopefully get your fanfiction juices flowing. Pick your favorite(s) of the four for each day, and write away! If you want to try and do all of them then have at it, but don't stress yourself out!!! I wanna make sure this year's event is as chill and no-pressure as possible, since I know a lot of options can be overwhelming, especially for Anna and I's fellow ADHDers! And if you don't want to commit to writing anything, or writing just isn't your strong suit, that's okay too! Use this week to make something based on any literature that brings Hiccanna to mind, or any literary world you'd love to see our favorite awkward ship in. Happy creating! Also HUGE shout-out to @lilandraws for helping me narrow this down from 40 fucking prompts, because when I tried to just casually make a list of text prompts I liked, I got, um...a bit carried away ^^; Also for giving some absolutely hilarious commentary that singlehandedly got me through the workday, bless 💚💚💚 And thank you to @creativepromptsforwriting for the prompts themselves!

1. Pick your favorite(s)!!! a) “Two bros, chilling in a small bed…” b) “Someone just handed you a cat?” c) “Sorry I tried to kill you.” “It’s fine, but next time you should try harder.” d) “Takes one to know one.”

2. Pick your favorite(s)!!! a) He had prepared himself for all the different ways she could reject him. But what he hadn’t prepared for was for her to actually say yes. b) “Want to hear some random facts about geese?” c) “What are we?” “Human. At least I hope we still are.” d) “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.” “And what are you going to do about that?”

WEEK 4—COMIC BOOKS And now, for the ultimate kick-ass combination of visuals and literature—the visual novel and comic book!!! Since Hiccup and Anna are, fundamentally, animated cartoons (as much as they are much more to all of us!), it seemed fitting to wrap up with this one :3 This week is all about comics, and what epic shenanigans and hijinks can come of Hiccanna-ifying them!

1. Sci-Fi/Fantasy AU—One of the things comic books and visual novels do best is exploring fantastical scenarios and limitless possibilities. The iconic superhero AU is probably the most well-known, but your options don't end there! Do you have a favorite comic about guys on spaceships exploring the galaxy and battling aliens? Or a comic about a party of DnD-style adventurers taking down an evil wizard? Throw some Hiccanna in it and let us see! The sky's the limit, and really, you don't even have to stop there! (Note: Using AUs for ANY of these prompts is real and valid and encouraged, so don't feel like this is the only place where you can use wacky AUs! This is just the one where they have a special focus/emphasis. But AU away whenever you like—Hiccup and Anna kinda require an AU to even be able to interact, so it sort of comes with the territory!)

2. Favorite Comic Book Adaptation AU—Many of us have been lucky enough to see a comic we like be adapted into something else, and can say with confidence that the adaptation kicks absolute ass,, whether it be a movie, TV show, novelization, video game, or whatever else! Like with the previous prompt, superhero comics might be the first thing to come to mind. Of course, I'd be delighted to see Hiccanna in the world of the Spiderverse, Invincible, or your favorite DC or Marvel movie, but keep in mind these aren't your only choices! Something like Scott Pilgrim vs. the World or Netflix's The Sandman would be a totally valid option as well! Have fun and go crazy :3

Aaaaaaand that's all for now! Tag those posts with hiccannamonth2024 or hiccannamonth24 so I can see them and reblog, and happy Hiccanna month-ing! Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with and shower all my love on it 💗💖❤️‍🔥 See you next month!!! We will go through all of July…and beyond >:3

As far as content goes, literally anything is welcome--edits, art, drabbles/fanfic, videos, interpretive dance you record yourself doing that has Hiccanna motifs, it is all fair game as long as it’s Hiccanna-related!

Your ever-determined Hiccanna month hoster person, Fuckyeahhiccannamonth 💚

[willows-adventures-in-words]

Writing this one broke me. I had to stop and get a hug from my husband before I could finish it. So, because I made myself suffer, I'm dragging everyone else down with me.

Whumptober prompts 20: Emotional Angst shoulder to cry on | giving permission to die | “it's not your fault” word count: 1,101 Some background info: This was a slightly altered discarded idea that would have been part of another story I was writing from a different fandom in an attempt to add more characters. That other story was a 7 Days to Die AU. 7 Days to Die is a zombie game. When you get infected in the game you can cure a certain percentage by using items. Honey (5%), Herbel Antibiotics (20%), and Antibiotics (25%). Obviously when the infection gets to 100% you die.

~-~-~

He ran up the road as fast as his tired legs would take him. Almost there. Almost back to the house. As Geoff reached for the door, there was a sound behind him. The groaning and shuffling that was way too familiar. “Not now...” Turning, he gripped the bat tighter. There was only one. Good. Stepping down off the porch, Geoff approached the zombie. When he got about a dozen feet away he held the bat with both hands and, with another step forward, swung as hard as he could knocking it to the ground. He grimaced in pain from the wound on his arm, before he grabbed the knife he carried and stabbed it in the head. Quickly, he got up and hurried back to the door. He could retrieve the knife later...

“Layne!?” he called out. Glancing in the kitchen as he passed by, he saw a half prepared meal. Geoff hurried to the bedroom and practically threw open the door. “Layne.”

Layne shifted his arm off from over his eyes and looked over. “Hey... You're back.” Geoff let out a sigh of relief and headed over to the bedside. “I tried to cook you something but-”

“I told you to rest.” Layne just smiled weakly as he rested his arm back over his eyes.

Geoff pulled his backpack off and, setting it down on the chair, pulled it open. “What did you bring me?” There was a pause. “Tell me it's not honey.”

“... It'll help.” Layne shook his head. “Layne.”

“No...”

He crouched down next to the bed. “It'll buy us some more time.”

“No,” Layne spoke, his tone sharper than what Geoff was used to hearing as of late.

“Layne, please.” Pulling his arm off of his eyes, Layne turned his head to look at his friend. “It's all I could get. I couldn't... I tried. I tried to get antibiotics. But... But someone else...” He couldn't keep the desperation and despair out of his voice.

Layne reached out and rested his hand on top of Geoff's. “It's not your fault.”

“I couldn't-” But Layne shook his head.

“The infection. I was reckless. And I know you tried your best. To help me. But I can't do this anymore, Geoff. I'm tired.”

“Please take the honey.”

“Keep it. In case you need it later.”

Geoff shook his head. “I can't lose you. I,” his voice cracked. “I can't do this alone. Let me keep trying.”

He almost gave in. But Layne knew he didn't have long. He was exhausted constantly and didn't even have the energy to walk around the house. His attempt to cook earlier made him sick. Honestly, he didn't know if he could even stomach eating the honey if he wanted to. But if he could... “It will probably only get me through the night...”

“Then- Then take it. And we'll leave. We'll find help.”

With a slow sigh, Layne told him, “You know I can't travel anymore.”

Stubbornly, Geoff told him, “Then I'll duct tape some rope to this mattress and drag you.” Layne let out a light laugh but otherwise remained quiet. “We can still get rid of the infection.”

Closing his eyes, he let out a breath. “Geoff, please. Let me go. It's been two weeks.” Layne hated telling him this. They've both lost too much already. Everyone they knew and loved was gone. They were all each other had. And now he was telling him to let him die and lose the last person close to him.

“... You can't ask me to do that.”

“I'm sorry...” His next breath came shallow. Layne realized just then, that his heart-rate had started to slow. There wasn't much time left. Though he wasn't scared, he had already resigned himself to this fate a couple days ago. No. He felt guilt. If he'd been more careful, not been reckless, then he wouldn't be putting his friend through this. “Can you, just stay with me. Until it's over?”

Geoff closed his eyes as he fought back the pain and tears. Then swallowed. “Okay,” he nearly whispered.

“Thank you.”

Silence fell heavily over the room. Geoff watch over his friend. His attention on his face for a bit, but then noticed how shallow his breathing was. How slowly his chest would rise and fall. He almost didn't make it back in time. Layne would have died here alone. Geoff would never have forgiven himself. Just like all the other things that have happened. He would have just added it to the pile. Though this one would have been the worst. Right next to losing Kathy.

He let out a shuddered breath. And it startled him when he felt Layne's hand grip lightly over his. Geoff glanced quickly from his hand to Layne's face. His friend slowly blinked his eyes open for a moment and attempted a smile before his eyes fell closed again. Then, not even a minute later, his breathing stopped and he was still.

Geoff didn't move at first. And when he did he looked down to the floor. His eyes stung with tears. This was it. He couldn't even help Layne. The one thing he should have been able to do. And he couldn't. As he blinked tears fell. Geoff let out another shuddered breath. He should go. But he didn't get up. Couldn't bring himself to do so. He just... He just wanted a little more time. Just a little more time.

He should have known it was a mistake. But grief made him forgot in that moment. And when the zombie with Layne's face opened its eyes and lurched up did he realize his mistake. Geoff jerked back, lifting his arms in defense as the zombie that looked like his friend launched itself at him. Its teeth catching his already injured arm tearing it open anew as he fell onto his back bumping the chair with his shoulder. Geoff struggled against him as he stared at Layne's face. He managed to bring a leg up for leverage and shove him, it, away. It fell back onto the bed and Geoff scrambled to his feet. Grabbing his backpack, he rushed for the door. Seconds after he left, shutting the door and leaned against it, he felt the bang from the other side. Geoff pushed away from the door and, cradling his injured arm, ran from the house.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

In their defense

Fandom: Vampire hunter D

Tags: D x reader

Note: local dragon still struggles with titles, more at 7

You felt their eyes the moment you two walked over the bridge, by the time you made it to a square there was a small crowd following you.

Curiosity is oftentimes stronger than fear.

D and you finally made it to the stables and while he was bargaining with the mechanic on the repair of his cyborg steed, you scanned a yard of the rest stop. It didn’t take long and you saw four figures approaching the shop. Words travel fast you thought to yourself as you spotted plasma rifles in their hands. There wasn’t a reason for four armed men, probably the sheriff and his henchmen, to target you. But you could take a guess as to why are they here.

“Hey!” the man in the middle called out to D, but he kept his back turned to the group.

When D didn’t acknowledge their presence, the sheriff pointed his gun at him, “I’m talking to you!”

The only response he got was a turn of the head.

The sheriff regarded him in disgust “we don’t tolerate Dhampir in this town.”

D kept silent. He made a single step towards them, but that action alone made them point all their weapons at him. You saw the fear in their eyes as clear as day. Even though the hunter did nothing that would indicate aggression, they were terrified by his presence alone.

The atmosphere was so thick one could cut it with a knife, and you realized that if somebody don’t do something things could escalate quickly. And that someone has to be you, apparently.

With sweaty palms, you slowly step between D and four plasma rifles, now pointing directly at you. “How about we all calm down,” you chuckled awkwardly raising your hands in placating manner. “We’re just dropping by and we’ll be out of your hair.” The only thing you’ve managed was that the man’s accusing glare was directed at you now.

“I don’t want trouble in this town-”

“And neither do we!” you interrupted and walked over to D. Patting the dhampir's arm, you exclaimed, “the truth is, we’re on an important mission to get rid of some vamp…so if you want to have your day saved once more let us do our work,” you finished your speech with a charming grin.

You don’t know who was more taken aback, whether the lawmen at your flippant and bit arrogant statement or D when he listened to you talk about your mission as if you contribute to the hunt in any way.

When the sheriff got out of his confused stupor, he loaded the rifle and put it right between your eyes. You’ve never been eye to eye with the barrel before and needless to say, you didn’t like it one bit. The fake confidence you plastered on a minute ago started to falter. You felt a hand on your shoulder as D silently prompted you to stay out of harm’s way but you were sick of this.

Whenever you appeared they gave you ostracized glares and shunned you for no other reason than fear and ignorance. Supplies suddenly ran out when you needed them, all inns were empty the moment you stepped into a town, and whenever D investigated the details of his current case no one was willing to work with him. All the while he risked his skin to help those who had nothing but a scornful word for him. He’d tell you he’s used to this, not realizing or ignoring the fact that this is the problem.

“Listen to me kid.”

“No you listen to me.” with a firm voice that didn’t concede any argument, you held the man’s gaze as if you had a gun barrel aiming at your forehead.

“We’ve been traveling for two weeks now. We’re exhausted and hungry and our only means of transport is broken. D’s used to being treated like shit simply because he’s in a position that he had no choice in, but the last thing you can do is treat him with enough respect to leave him the fuck alone!” Your voice was getting louder, but you couldn’t stop. “Need I remind you that this guy is risking his neck, fighting the most dangerous creatures in the entire Frontier, saving sorry asses of people like you!”

D noticed a few citizens started to gather at the front gate of the repair shop, trying to catch a glimpse of the dhampir vampire hunter and his companion. This is starting to turn into quite a scene.

He put his arm around your shoulders and dragged you to his new cyborg horse, dropping a coinpurse in front of the confused mechanic. Before you had a chance to complain he grabbed your waist and hoisted you on the horse. As he mounted the sleek black steed, he tipped his hat at the mechanic, and then you were off. He galloped through the streets out of the city and when you looked back, the sheriff and his men were standing there. Not running after you or shooting at you. You counted as a success, even though you’d rather not imagine what names they were calling you now.

D slowed the horse down to a trot once the city was a small speck in the distance. The mad dash was replaced by awkward silence. You didn’t want to wait for D to scold you, so you started talking first.

“Listen here, I-” “Thank you.” That was the first time he spoke during this whole ordeal, you didn’t know to react so you let out a confused “Huh?”

Hunter kept his eyes on the horizon as he said, “no one defended me like that before,” and you could swear there was a hint of a smile on his face.

[lovelyfanatical]

I Get a Sugar Rush Whenever I'm With You - Chapter 7.3

Hello fellow Drukkari stans! Happy Barbenheimer weekend to those who celebrate! And if you're not watching any of those, then happy weekend! I'm back with the next mini-installment! If you missed any previous chapters, you can find them on my handy dandy Table of Contents here. Amidst Pastry Week, Druig and Makkari are really starting to turn heads with their interactions. What will happen next? Find out now, in the next mini-chapter of Drukkari in the Great British Bake Off!

Pastry week was off to a surprisingly strong start. Druig’s beef empanadas had proven popular with the judges, even if Arishem had found them a little dry. More importantly, Makkari’s pumpkin empanadas had earned her a handshake. She’d been caught so off-guard that she was still in shock when they went to do their interviews. Druig was waiting for his turn when Darcy came jogging over.

“Hey, you know how we had Makkari conduct your interview a couple times?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I’m gonna need you to do that for her now. She’s kind of in a trance and no one’s been able to break her out of it. Let’s go!”

Before he could even answer, Darcy had already turned and started walking briskly away. “Assuming you’re following me,” she called back to him. After a moment, Druig jogged after her.

Darcy wasn’t lying. When they got to where Makkari’s interview was set up, she was staring into space, deep in thought. Kingo was watching her from the side, looking slightly concerned. When she saw Druig approaching, her face lit up with a bright smile. Darcy scrambled to get the camera people recording and shoved the list of questions into his hands, while Kingo hurriedly explained the situation.

They made quick work of the interview. Once Druig got there, it was as if a dam had broken in Makkari’s mind. Her hands moved quickly as she answered, like she was racing to keep up with her thoughts. Makkari had told him about her tendency to talk too much during interviews, but Druig was hanging on every word. He was almost disappointed when he ran out of questions. Once they’d finished, to both of their surprise, Darcy had them switch places.

“Honestly, who’s gonna notice if we use the same background for your interviews? It’ll save us a lot of time to just stay here,” she explained.

They quickly filmed Druig’s interview, then they were off to lunch, Kingo in tow. He soon skipped in front of them to say, “Wow, can you two be any more co-dependent?”

I said no judgment or no tea for you! Makkari threatened.

With an eyeroll and a dramatic sigh, Kingo muttered, “Sorry, you can be as co-dependent as you want. Just please spill the tea for me. I’m so parched.”

After he jogged ahead to the lunch area, Makkari turned to Druig. I don’t know what came over me. He shook my hand, and my brain just stopped working.

If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure that’s how I was in most of my interviews before they brought you in, Druig replied. Congratulations on the handshake, by the way.

Thanks, she responded with a grin.

They headed into the lunch area, grabbing their food and their leftover bakes. Makkari had already plopped one of her empanadas on his plate, taking one of his in return before they even got to the table.

I can see you looking at them, was the excuse she gave him. Besides, I’m pretty sure Kingo already swiped one.

Her suspicions were proven correct when they sat down at their table, where Kingo was already eating. He’d split his empanada with Sersi, much to the envy of the rest of the table, and the two of them were looking up at her in excitement.

“I couldn’t let just Druig sample them!” Kingo said defensively as they sat down, prompting the both of them to roll their eyes.

“Makkari, you’ve outdone yourself with these,” Sersi interjected.

Thank you, Makkari replied graciously, a small smile on her lips.

Sersi passed her plate to Phastos and Gil, who accepted what was left of the empanada. As they did, Druig dug into his own pastry. He nearly fell out of his chair. Pumpkin and the brown sugar flooded his mouth, with the hint of cinnamon kicking in soon after. On top of that, the balance of the filling and the pastry crust was just right. He looked up to see his fellow bakers wearing expressions of similar shock and delight as they echoed Sersi’s praise.

“This is definitely handshake-worthy,” Phastos commented.

“Very delicious, Makkari!” Gil added.

“Wish I could eat it,” Sprite grumbled.

“You could try to steal some of Druig’s,” Kingo suggested, at which Druig immediately snatched up his plate.

“Not a chance,” he said, signing with one hand.

“I meant because it’s not vegan,” Sprite clarified.

Sorry, Sprite, Makkari said, looking slightly sheepish. Next time, I’ll make you a vegan batch.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” the teen said, though her tone suggested otherwise. Her own vegan empanadas hadn’t turned out as well as she’d hoped, so she seemed to be in more of a mood than usual. Before anyone else could comment on it, however, Kingo had changed the subject.

“What about your pear empanadas, Sersi?” he asked. “I think Druig was curious about them.”

Druig couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the other man, who was giving him a wide-eyed look that screamed, Please go with it. He was inclined to ignore it, but Makkari was also giving him a pointed look. As such, he acquiesced.

“Yeah, I was wondering how you kept them from drying out,” he said, hoping the ensuing discussion would be long enough for Makkari to fill Kingo in. Luckily, Sersi launched into an explanation, completely oblivious to the conversation Makkari and Kingo were having right next to her. Makkari was just about done when Sersi finished explaining. While Kingo looked like he might protest, she cut him off with a look before shifting her focus back to the rest of the table.

“Thanks, I’ll have to remember that for next time,” Druig replied.

“No problem,” Sersi said cheerfully. “I could also just give you the paper recipe at dinner, if you like.”

“You guys are still doing that?” Kingo asked incredulously. “You’re lucky I don’t report you to Darcy!”

You haven’t so far, Makkari pointed out.

“Speaking of dinner,” Gilgamesh began, “now that Ajak’s gone, who’s going to host?”

“I could do it,” Sersi volunteered. “Everyone’s invited, of course.”

“Phastos won’t come anyway,” Sprite snarked, causing him to sputter.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t come this time!” he retorted.

“You are the only one who hasn’t come yet,” Druig observed.

“I can take his spot!” Kingo piped up excitedly.

You’d still have to come over from the other hotel, Makkari said. Guess we’re back down to a small group.

“Alright! I’ll come to dinner,” Phastos declared.

The group erupted in a combination of cheers and giggles.

-

When you peer pressure the loner into joining the group 😆 Hope you enjoyed this mini-chapter!

Part 25

[jadekitty777]

The Emotionalist: Chapter 2

Will I write anything else but this this week? Maybe. Probably not.

Prompt for Day 3: Sunset

Rating: T

Word Count: 1K

Summary: Clover Ebi was a huntsman who, like most Atlesian soldiers, hid most of his emotions behind a mask of calm professionalism. That is, unless, one knew where to look. And Qrow looked a lot.

Or, 5 times Qrow learned to read Clover’s mood not from his face, but from his ears. [An adjacent story to Hunting Season Hunting Season; events from Qrow’s POV]

Ao3 Link: Dragging Like the Tide

~

Clover’s office had a very nice couch in it. 

The soldier had admitted he didn’t know where it had come from, just that it had shown up when he had asked for the arrangement years ago. But of course Atlesians wouldn’t just send him any old thing. It was one of those luxury pieces that was probably made by some famous artisan using the finest wood, material and stuffing available, with a plush, deep, forest green exterior and oak accenting along the arm trim and legs. 

Not that Qrow had room to complain as he was currently the one lounging along it like a lazy cat, scroll held aloft as he virtually duked it out with Ruby in Ninja Wars V. Between matches, he would glance back at Clover, somehow finding him buried in more paperwork than when he’d looked last. Not that he needed the visual to know he was still working. With the game music muted, the clack-clack-clack of keyboard keys was the only soundtrack he had.

When he’d first dropped in, Clover had agreed to go for some evening tea with him in the mess hall. Something soothing to wind down with. Maybe they’d even watch the stars from the windows, like they had been from the rooftops for the past few days.

“Just give me five minutes to finish these reports.” Clover had promised.

That had been a half hour ago.

Qrow tapped insistently on his controller for another combo and struck the final blow. The victory screen flashed with ‘Soaring Ninja Wins!’ for the twelve time that night.

He swiped out of the game and pinged his niece, Ready to call it quits?

Just because I am sleepy does not mean I am defeated old man!

But yeah, Weiss is complaining about the noise.

See you tomorrow!

Night kiddo.

His arms dropped, resting his scroll along his stomach as he tipped his head back.

Immediately, he noticed that Clover’s demeanor had changed. Not in his expression - that was still set in deep concentration - but in his ears. They were slanted downwards, tips pointing towards his shoulders.

The last time he’d seen something like that had been shortly after their encounter with Robyn, wherein Clover and Blake started debating the state of Faunus socionomics. In the end, Clover had backed down, ears falling in resigned defeat.

Much like they were now.

Not that Qrow was… keeping a catalog or anything.

“You okay Clubs?” He called.

Clover glanced away from his computer, the unnatural glow of the screen making his skin appear ghastly pale. “Huh? Oh yeah.” He ran a hand down his face, eyes rolling back towards the screen. “Sorry, these reports are taking a lot longer than I thought.”

“Is there something troubling in them?”

“No more than usual, why?”

Why indeed. Qrow knew ‘because you seem upset’ could be taken wrong in too many ways; especially, if that then led to him admitting he was trying to read Clover by the positioning of his ears. 

Qrow was proud to say he wasn’t that stupid.

“No reason. Just figured that was what the hold up was.” He said instead.

There was a distant hum, then Clover shook his head. “No I think I’m just-” He trailed off, raising a hand to his mouth as he yawned widely. As he did, his ears stretched backwards before falling back down where they’d been.

If being cute was illegal, Qrow was pretty sure the other man would have been convicted for unintentional murder twice over by now.

“Mm, well I was gonna say tired, but I guess that’s obvious now.” Clover joked, shooting him a sleepy smile.

Thrice over, his seizing heart corrected.

He rose from the dead just enough to manage, “Maybe it’s time to call it a night?”

“No, no. I’m almost done. I just need-”

“Five more minutes?” Qrow guessed flatly. 

Clover flushed, averting his gaze to the pens lined along his desk. “…Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long. You can turn in for the night if you want.”

Well now, that just wouldn’t do.

Abandoning all hope on their original plans, he gave a loud, dramatic sigh, before hopping to his feet. “Chamomile or ginger?”

“Huh?”

“Your tea.” He explained patiently, arching a brow. “Which one do you want me to bring back?”

Slowly, realization dawned.

Then Clover gifted him with the sweetest smile, as he replied, “Ginger, please.”

“You got it. I’ll be back before you can miss me.” He accented the words with a wink, purposely sashaying his hips as he headed out of the office.

The second the door swung shut behind him, Qrow lent heavily against it, hand on his chest as he tried to calm his sudden cardiac arrest.

War crimes. He decided on finally. Clover’s cuteness was guilty of actual war crimes on his heart.

Unbeknownst to the metaphorically dying huntsman, on the other side of the door, seen only by his own reflection in the monitor, Clover had buried his blushing face in his hands, squealing quietly to himself.

[ickmick]

Inktober days 11-15!!

I PROMISE I DIDNT FORGET TO POST THIS, I HAD IT WRITTEN AND EVERYTHING BUT YET TUMBLR DIDNT POST IT??? So erm.... I scheduled it for 'today' at like... 2 pm i think? my time, that is... LOL (turned out the queue didnt work! so its 6pm!)

so anyways, I'll upload yet again on sunday (tomorrow!) since I also need to post on Halloween!! oh boy!! so theres my uploads for the rest of the month, if you want to check back :D

I've actually gotten further than I thought I would! very proud of myself! and you should be too, even if you've only done a few days!

heres week one and week twos posts!

this one actually has the doc drawing >:3c

plus some other fun ones! its all under the cut, enjoy!

heres the key as always, referring to my prompt lists!!

wh = welcome home

hc = hermitcraft (I have 2!)

ink = official inktober

gore = goretober

(actual gore will be triggerwarned! so far none has any blood or violence!)

Day 11

wh: butterfly

hc: mischief

ink: wander

life: lava

oh noooo... our local pesky bird!! he fellll... (attempted a new perspective!! a lil wonky but I tried lol)

and can I just say I LOVE how peaceful grian is in the last drawing? hes so pretty and soft looking!! i surprised myself!!

Day 12

life: soulmate

I got that major life series brainrot... if you cant tell, haha... and dont even get me started on secret life!! more on that in the final notes >:D

also I didnt finish bigb im sorry BFMSVSSB

Day 13

hc: fashion

life: safety

GRIAN IN CUTE CLOTHES !! feat mumbo in the corner to make up for the last few times of neglect rip

also, was low on spoons and unfortunately did not finish the potentially adorable moment between the buttercups in grians wings... smth... xD

Day 14

hc: hermit with a background

gore: parasite

ay more like parasyte, am I right? *ba dum tiss*... ... yeah ok sorry LOL that was def more of a meme drawing ngl

AND THE FABLED DOC DRAWING!!! I posted it on its own already because im unbelievably proud of it!! listen... i know it meant to draw a bg... like a forest or smth... BUT!! i thought it was kinda funny... and I swear i was going to actually di the prompt right! but I ran out of spoons XD

Day 15

ink: dagger

life: spyglass

gore: fungi

another low spoon day, alas! but hey, at least we have some AHAA shenanigans (simply grian giggling) and a not so scar safe object!! (a dagger!! who gave him that?? /silly)

whew, there we go!! i think this weeks set was pretty good! (not that I actually drew any THIS WEEK, but thats not the point XD)

also, thank you for all the love so far!! you guys are very sweet :D

Im especially blown away from this post of tango, because it was rushed!! but im appreciative still because the post is sort of funny!! <3

*vauge talk of first secret life episodes!!*

PLUGS OVER LISTEN.... SECRET LIFE? THE SYMBOL? JIMMY POINTING IT OUT? AHHHHH!?!? /VPOS

its so good already omg... ive watched quite a few of the povs lol... i wont say anything specfic because I havent properly spoiler warned! so I will leave you simply with the wise words 'the fanfic writes itself' /silly (and oh my god scar giving grian the dang blocks ACK /pos /pos /pos)

heres week fours, 5.1s and the last post (5.2)!!

okay!! have a good week!! and remember to be easier on yourself!! I hope to see you next sunday for the next week of drawings!! 💜

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 03 | A STATE OF MIND

PAIRING: bang chan x reader

GENRE: angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff

WC: 1.76k

CW: (not only) appearance insecuritues (chan), mentions of hate comments, implied panic attack/mental breakdown (chan), there's crying, and lot of kisses, y/n used like once, chan gets called baby

PROMPT: you're beatiful - the rose

well, the angst is here. trust me to take a cute song and turn it into this lol. i promise it gets better as we go, and i don't really go into much detail, but still mind the cw. i still hope you enjoy <3

title from you're beatiful - the rose

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

You knocked on the door to the 3RACHA + Hyunjin dorm. Tapping your foot against the ground, you waited for one of the boys to let you in. “Come on, guys, come on,” you murmured, growing more and more impatient with every second that passed. This truly was the worst time to forget your keys at home. But you were in such a hurry to get here that the thought of bringing anything but the absolute essentials, such as your phone or the keys to your own apartment, hadn't crossed your mind until you were halfway to the dorm.

When Changbin called you twenty minutes ago, begging you to come over, you weren’t thinking straight. As soon as Chan's name was mentioned, you grabbed your stuff and ran out the door. Poor Changbin didn't even get to finish what was so urgent, but that didn't matter. You will find out when you go there. What mattered was the fact that something was going on with Chan, and you were too far away from him. So there you were, in the hallway of the Stray Kids’ apartment complex, standing in front of the door like an idiot. Just as you were starting to entertain the thought of busting the door down, the doorknob moved and revealed Minho in a similarly distressed state as you. His hair was messy, his hoodie rumpled, and there were a few faint damp patches around his chest and shoulders.

“Thank god you're here.” Minho let out a sigh of relief, ushering you to come inside and towards Chan's room, not even pointing out the fact that you didn't take off your shoes. Oh, so this was really serious then. Minho was very particular about these sorts of things, so the fact that he now completely ignored one of his precious house rules spoke volumes on its own. Walking through the apartment, you noticed the rest of the members sitting or standing around, looking similarly uneasy. Hyunjin and Jisung paused their murmured conversation with Changbin to give you a small wave as a greeting, which you returned. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seungmin comforting a crying Jeongin, but before you could inspect the scene further, you were dragged away by Minho. “Yongbok is with him right now, but he keeps asking for you,” the dancer said, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and gently nudging you towards the closed door.

“Um… Do you mind telling me what exactly happened? I kind of rushed here before Changbin got the chance to explain.” You ran your hand through your hair, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

Minho didn't make a big deal out of it. “It's been a hard few weeks for him. And you know how he is, he never tells us anything and keeps it bottled up. I don't know what set it off, but with the deadlines closing in three days and the haters getting more active lately, I guess it got too much. He broke down about an hour ago, and we don't know what to do,” he explained with the same sad and worried tone he greeted you with. You nodded, and Minho carefully opened the door.

Felix raised his head to the noise, and his eyes sparked up when he saw you. Though it wasn't the usual spark in his eyes, this time it was much more bittersweet. I'm glad you're here, and I'm sorry I can't help more. “Chris, Y/N is here,” Felix whispered in English, gently running his fingers through Chan's hair to make him acknowledge the information.

Watching the whole scene unfold in front of you, you could feel your heart breaking into a million pieces. The two boys were sitting on the bed, Chan cuddled up to Felix. At least he wasn't crying anymore, so that was already a step in a better direction. He still had his face buried in the younger one's chest, though. One of Felix's arms was steadily wrapped around Chan, while the other was now massaging his scalp. Chan looked so small and vulnerable, curled up into a ball like that. You had to fight every urge to run over there, pry him out of Felix's arms, and never let go again. But you knew you had to approach carefully.

Kneeling down next to the bed, you gently ran your hand around Chan's back, letting him know you're here. "Baby," you whispered. “Baby, it's me. Can you look at me, please?’ you said, getting up on the bed as well. Felix gave you a weak smile, and slowly, with so much care, he disentangled himself from Chan, who immediately latched onto you, grabbing you with a force you didn't think he was capable of right now. You didn't even notice Felix and Minho leaving the room; all your attention was focused on your boyfriend the moment you saw him.

“Want to tell me what happened?” you gently asked, hugging Chan tighter when he shook his head, mumbling something about wanting to just hold you for a while. You nodded with a sad smile. “Of course.” He'll tell you later, if he wants to. For now, you would just hold him, knowing that just your presence helped him. He said many times in the past that just being close to you always made him feel better. But now that saying has reached a completely new, heartbreaking level. You watched Chan get comfortable with a stinging pain in your chest. It hurt to see him like this, clinging to you like he's drowning and you're the only thing keeping him above the water.

For a while, you just stayed, intertwined with one another. For the whole time, your fingers gently brushed through Chan's soft curls because you knew it always helped to ground him. As the minutes passed, you felt how Chan's breathing slowly steadied, and he was coming out of his current state. 

Feeling him move, you smiled and helped him into a more sitting position, but you still kept your firm hold on him. Reaching over for the bottles of water Minho brought in some time ago, you handed one to Chan. “Feeling better, baby?”  

He took the bottle and opened it, bringing it to his lips. He set it back down and nodded in response to your question. “I'm sorry… Don't know what…” he mumbled. “The deadlines and comments... It was too much.” 

“Shh, it's okay.” You began stroking his hair again. “They're wrong. Whatever they said to you, they're wrong.”

Chan looked at you. His eyes, always so sparkly and happy, were now heavy with sadness. “They said that I'm not a good leader. That I don't deserve to be an idol because I'm ugly with no talent,” he whispered.

You felt a burst of anger inside you. “Channie,” you said, more insistent this time. One of your hands came to rest on his jaw, your thumb gently caressing his cheek, while the other interlocked your fingers with his, holding his hand tightly. “They're wrong. You're a great leader. No one loves the boys more than you, and we both know you'll do anything for them. You take care of them, of me, of other artists in your company. You protect them when it's needed, and you help them grow and achieve their own success outside of the group. Are those the qualities of a bad leader?” 

Chan shook his head slightly. 

“Exactly. You are the best leader they could ever ask for.” You smiled at him, hoping to convey how much you loved and appreciated him with that one smile. And it might have worked. His face lit up a tiny bit. Blink and you would have missed it, but at this point in your relationship, you were so accustomed to Chan that you sometimes felt like you could read his mind.

“And I don't know who said that other thing, but they need their eyes checked,” you continued. “You are beautiful, Chan, inside and out. From your adorable curly hair..." You reached to kiss the top of his head. “Over your eyes, your nose, your entire face, to your lips.” After every feature, you placed a kiss on that spot, and your heart swelled with happiness when you heard soft giggles coming out of Chan at the fact that he was being showered with kisses all over his face. “And even if the haters don't think that, who cares? Their opinion doesn’t matter. Beauty is much more than looks. It's the personality as well. You have thousands of fans ready to tell you the same because it's true, but you need to believe it yourself. Please try, for me?”

You leaned in to press a final kiss on Chan's lips. When you pulled away, you noticed tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. “Oh god no,” you murmured. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. Just as you thought he was getting better, you made him cry again.

“Happy tears. It's happy tears,” Chan quickly said, noticing you getting into your head. “It's okay, you didn't do anything,” he assured you, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“I should be the one telling you that,” you chuckled, cupping his face in your hands and wiping the tears away. 

“Can't have you steal all the spotlight, can I?"

That did get a full laugh out of you. A joke. That meant Chan was coming back. “I'm glad you're feeling better,” you said, your voice sweet and sincere.

“Thank you. For being here and... and helping. I promise I'll try for you,” Chan said, and you lit up at his words. It was going to be a long and difficult road, for sure, but this was already a huge step in the right direction. Then he yawned and snuggled up closer to you. You stroked his back a few times. It was understandable. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. “I'll go tell the boys you're okay, and then I'll come back so we can sleep, okay?”

You got a murmured okay in response. Smiling, you gently laid Chan down on the bed and gave him a last kiss into his hair before walking towards the door. When you looked over your shoulder before exiting the room, he was curled to himself just like before, but this time his breathing was slow and steady, his face calm, as his body was finally ready to let go and relax.

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