#thank you for the prompt!!!! 💕

[therentyoupay]

20. Jelsa.

"Come on," he had urged her, gently pulling her by the wrist down to the docks, down to the sailboat he'd assured her was safe, promising an adventure, a sunset, an evening of respite before her bodyguards inevitably swept her away, and—something she'd admittedly not known she'd wanted, even as it now thrummed, foreign and once-familiar, in her veins—fun... even if only until the sun finally set.

♡ image ♡ ♡ askbox meme

[emry-stars-art]

Can I be cheeky and ask for some more tiny jellyfish Neil? I love him so much. In my pocket.

In your pocket!

[grimalkinscribbles]

Mhin with a feather chest (like falin from delicious in dungeon)

Pov: Mhin is very reluctantly showing you the birb floof 🐦‍⬛

[avonne-writes]

Put that guy in a situation... Buck/Bucky Body swap mayhaps?

There's a sweet familiarity to the throbbing ache of a hangover, Bucky thinks as he turns to lie on his back in his cot. He can just sink into the misery of it, then chase it with the hair of the dog, let the poison make it better. That’s what he needs. Something to make getting up only three or four hours after he went to sleep worth it. And Gale. Yeah, Gale would already be there in the mess hall, waiting for him with one of his muted smiles.

Now, that's something that would get Bucky out of bed even if he was dying.

He rolls himself up to sit on the edge of the bed but a sharp, piercing pain slices through his thigh.

"Ugh, Jesus Christ." He hisses through gritted teeth, his hand tearing the thin army-issued blanket away to see what hurt him. "Fuck! What the fuck!"

There's a splotch of red spreading on his boxers. Cursing under his breath, he rucks up the material and finds a sizeable gash with the skin held together by stitches. His careless movements pulled at the edge of it wrong and made it bleed a little.

He can’t remember getting wounded there.

"What..." He blinks, confusion and panic settling in.

Those are not his legs. His muscular thighs have been replaced by ones much slimmer, the thick, dark coils seem to have vanished to give way to sparse blond hair, and where he's usually white as a sheet his skin now sports a pinkish hue. Small moles dot the limbs where there should be none.

Bucky's breathing so fast that he feels lightheaded. He racks his brain for an explanation, but the only plausible one is that the special brew he won off the goddamn Brits last night was spiked with something freaky. Of course, those pricks would pull something like this. He runs a hand through his hair to try calm himself down, but instead of the familiar pattern of his curls, he combs through straighter, silkier strands. He jerks his hand away to look at it and that's when he realizes -

These are Gale's hands. His hair, his skin, his slim legs. Even his voice, the low rumble of it, isn’t because Bucky sang himself hoarse last night. It’s Gale’s voice.

"Jesus Christ." Bucky repeats, whispering from the shock. He looks up and Marge's framed photo stares back at him from Gale’s bedside. And just across from him - "Shit!"

It's surreal to see his own body from the outside. For a moment, he fears that he’s dead, but his body stirs and curls up tighter on his side, his hands tucked under his pillow.

Like Gale's usually are when he's asleep.

Swallowing against the alarm making his head throb, Bucky pushes himself up to pad over to his body - to Gale, his heart knows - despite the pain lancing through his thigh and a stiffness in his back that shouldn't be there. Even through his racing thoughts, one stands out loud and clear. Gale has been hiding his wounds from him.

That hurts more than the physical pain.

With a shaking hand, he touches Gale's - his own - shoulder. Eyes Bucky only ever sees in the mirror snap open, widen, and without any further preamble, a fist swings out and clocks him in the face. The world goes dark again.

When Bucky wakes up again, he’s in the softest, warmest bed known to man, and someone's arm lies limp across his face, right where his nose throbs with a slowly fading pain. He gasps as his mind reconnects to the present and realizes that the war has long been over and he’s lying on the mattress he shares with Gale.

Relieved, he grabs for his own thigh and finds it unmarred under the duvet. It’s just as meaty as it should be, the hair on it familiar as he draws his palm over it. On his upper lip, his mustache covers the skin. He sighs as his heartbeat slows. Only his face hurts, and that's apparently because Gale swung his arm out in his sleep.

Carefully, he folds that arm back over Gale’s torso, then reaches under the covers. Gale moves with him, turning to his side in a way that suggests he thinks Bucky wants to spoon, but he grunts when Bucky’s hand smooths over his thigh to trace the old scar there.

"I had a weird dream." Bucky whispers, molding himself to the curve of Gale's body for comfort. "We were back in Thorpe and I was in your body."

Gale breathes in and out slowly. "'m not in the mood." He mumbles.

"No, I mean, I were you and you were me, Buck. We switched bodies. It was damn scary, let me tell ya. Then you punched me." When he gets no response, Bucky continues. "Imagine seeing yourself from the outside. Can't lie, it left me terrified."

Gale's hum rumbles in his chest where he presses Bucky's hand to his heart. "Sleep, hon."

Taking a deep breath, Bucky closes his eyes and tries to obey. He doubts that Gale will remember any of this conversation in the morning. He’ll tell him again during breakfast. It will earn him a smile, he’s sure.

[srasdoesthings]

*＊✿❀Day 7: Girl's Night Out❀✿＊*

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

And that's a wrap! Working on this week was fun^^ Ending this with a cute HiiAiKoha ft. Rinne piece cause they're very near and dear to my heart 💕💕 a small silly extra thing under cut!!

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

[anawrites3]

Jason and Tim, they're comparing their scars

"This one," Jason said in a low voice, turning a bit to show the long scar on his side better. It started at his sternum and disappeared under his armpit. "Is from Black Mask. Fucker got me when my suit ripped and tried his damnest to put me down."

"Woah." Tim breathed out before shuffling closer. He reached out to trace the mark with his fingers, slowly and carefully, and watched goosebumps rise where he touched. "It looks… well, it looks pretty bad."

Jason snorted. He didn't move away from Tim's touch, even with how cold Tim's hand had to feel on his bare skin.

"It was." He agreed easily. "Not the worst I got but still hurt like bitch. Dick got crazy while trying to get me back to the Manor."

"Yeah, I can imagine that." Tim laughed. He sat back to gesture towards his own scar, this one also on the side but more towards his hip. It wasn't as long as Jason's but more ragged and ugly. "This one from Two Face."

"Damn." Jason whistled. He leaned closer to take a better look and didn't trace it with his fingers like Tim did, just put his hand on Tim's hip. "He got you good."

Tim winced.

"It was a stupid mistake." He admitted with a huff. He rested his hands on the couch behind him and looked up at the dark ceiling, subtly pressing himself into Jason's touch. "I was still new at the whole gig, made the wrong decision and ended up hurt. Bruce wasn't very happy with me."

Jason hummed. His thumb circled the skin of Tim's hip, dipping just barely into the waist of Tim's jeans and making the boy shiver.

"Can't blame him." He shrugged. "I'd get pissed at you for being stupid on patrol too."

A sigh left Tim's lips. Jason watched the way they parted to let the breath out.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Tim mumbled, grumpy. "Learned my lesson now."

"I'd hope so."

"Oh, stop acting as if you never got hurt from doing something stupid." Tim grumbled. "We all make mistakes. Even you. Even Dick."

"Damn, that really had to hurt your pride if you're bringing up Dick's shit." Jason teased. He crossed his arms over his chest and Tim suddenly felt even colder without his warm touch on his skin.

"Well, it's kind of hard to forget Dick letting Deathstroke actually shoot him that one time in Russia."

"Oh yeah, that one was great." Jason threw his head back with a laugh. Tim punched him on the arm - that really wasn't funny, poor Dick - but a little smile danced on his lips as well (no, it wasn't funny, but it was so freaking stupid it was hard to talk about it with a straight face). "The look on his face was fucking precious."

"Good thing Bruce wasn't there. He'd go crazy."

"Hey, at least it would be fun to watch."

"It really wouldn't be. But don't you dare change the subject!" Tim playfully wagged his finger into Jason's face. "I want to see a scar you got because of being stupid. That's what you get for making fun of me."

"I wasn't exactly making fun of you-"

"C'mon, just show me!"

For a moment Jason watched him without a word. Tim waited for him to make another joke or show him something stupid like a papercut he got a few days ago and kept complaining about, but Jason just uncrossed his arms.

And then he gestured towards his chest, where his autopsy scars were.

"Jason-" Tim started quietly because this wasn't what he meant-

"This. This is what happened because I was being stupid." Jason ignored him, continued. His voice was carefully blank. "Because I trusted someone who didn't give two shits about me and let her lead me straight to that sick fuck."

"Jason-" Tim tried again. "I didn't-"

"I know that's not what you meant." He tried to grin but Tim saw it didn't reach his eyes the way it normally did. "But that's what happened. I was stupid and I got killed."

"No. No, Jason, you weren't stupid." Tim insisted, moving so close that their breaths mixed. He cupped Jason's cheek with those awfully cold hands and stopped him from looking away from him. "You were everything but stupid. You were being strong. You were being a hero. You did everything you could to help that woman and it's not your fault that she betrayed you. Those scars aren't proof of you being stupid, they show that you survived."

Jason breathed out, wet and shaky. And then he did something even more stupid than dying, even more stupid than Dick getting shot by Slade.

He closed the last centimeters between them and kissed Tim.

I have no idea how it turned into this, they were meant to feel each other up and make out a bit lmao and now they're pining messes instead. ANYWAY hope you liked it!!

(You can take part in the game by sending me 2 characters and what they're doing!)

[alpineshift]

How about 5 or 13 for your NicoJack ask?🫶🫶

absolutely!! 💕💕

[5] the darkest depths of a dragon's lair, gold glittering at your feet

There's something eerily haunting about the way the gold slithers and slides beneath his feet.

It's almost as if the treasure in the dragon's lair is alive.

Which really makes Jack wish the rest of the adventuring party would shut the hell up. They have zero common sense, this lot, and his nerves have already been frayed by the dozens of close calls they'd experienced on their journey here.

Not that he should expect much from a group whose sole purpose is to get rich quick.

While the others jeer and make a ruckus through the trove, Jack sneaks off towards the back of the lair. The tiny shard of ceramic, hidden away in its case on a string and tucked away beneath his tunic, rattles tangibly, almost tugging Jack through the mess towards its lost parent. He's so damn close.

This deep into the mountainside, the air feels heavier, colder. The light of his torch is a meagre flicker against the towering walls, all laden with treasure. Jack shudders to think how long it would've taken him to dig through the mess.

The shard suddenly jostles in the case, and Jack whips around, scanning the layers before him. Gold, gold, more gold, but he's not looking for that, he's looking for--

White. Jack immediately tosses his torch aside and digs through the treasure until his hands close around the coveted piece: a mirror, enclosed by a beautiful moon-white ceramic frame that's missing one tiny chip. Jack exhales, giddy, and picks it up.

"What are you doing?"

Jack yelps, almost dropping his prize. Standing a few paces away, watching him dig, is Nico the Swordsman, a member of the party. Jack hadn't heard him sneak up at all.

Nico's gaze flickers down to the mirror in Jack's hands. His brows furrow. "What on earth do you want a mirror for?"

"I don't have time to explain it," Jack says shortly, tucking the piece quickly into his rucksack. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nico's whole body jolt, like he'd been about to reach forward, but caught himself in time. Unnerved, Jack side-steps him.

"Alright, I'm going. I've got what I came for, I'm not waiting around to get eaten by a--"

Nico's hand comes down and grabs hold of Jack's elbow, and pulls him, hard, until Jack is tumbling into the gold with a shout. Nico follows him down, knees hitting the piles of precious metal with a jarring rattle. Jack gapes up at him, stunned silent, like the rest of the cave.

Wait. It's silent. Why can't he hear the rest of the party?

Instinctive dread curdles in his stomach, and Jack clutches his rucksack to his chest. Was it just his imagination, or are Nico's eyes darker, pupils longer, almost more reptilian than he'd first noticed?

"Nico," Jack whispers. "Where's everyone else?"

Nico tilts his head. The movement is almost too fluid for him to possibly be human. Suddenly, Jack has a flashback to Nico introducing himself at the beginning of their journey. He'd brought with him a dragon-slaying sword, and had been accepted almost immediately by the party with instructions to protect everyone with it should the dragon appear during their raid.

But Nico had never once said that the sword belonged to him.

"I'm curious," Nico says softly. His finger traces over Jack's cheek; the nail long and curved, like a talon. "All those men hungered for the gold, the shiny pieces, the lustrous metals. But you--all you wanted was a mirror. A magical mirror, yes, but just a mirror nonetheless."

Jack gulps, but he can't take his eyes away. Nico may look terrifying right now, but the way his eyes glitter, brighter than any of the gold in the (no, his) lair right now, is stunning.

"So tell me, Jack," Nico prompts. He smiles, too knowing, too dangerous. "Out of all the priceless pieces here, why would someone as beautiful as you choose this simple piece?"

it’s almost hockey season again! send me a jacknico prompt?

[alasarys]

norrussell + blanket? 🧡

💙🧡 A snippet of sappiness ...

It's not what George was looking for in the cupboard, behind plastic containers of Posca pens and sketchbooks, neatly packed CDJs and a frankly astonishing number of shoeboxes, at least half of which, it turns out, are filled with beaded bracelets from fans. It shouldn't have been possible to find it, because George had got the distinct impression that Lando chucked it years ago – “What would I do with that, mate? Got the real thing now. Much better.”

Nonetheless, several house moves and one possibly-a-bit-of-a-fib later, there it is, carefully folded so it fits into a Nike Air Force 1 dust bag, in the deepest recesses of their cupboard. George tucks the blanket with his face on it back into the space it came from. “Sentimental git,” he murmurs as he continues his search. 

(send me a ship/character and a prompt, and I'll give you five sentences)

[spaceratprodigy]

💫✨ Precious Stars in the Sky ✨💫

Merry Christmas @fairymistrose !! 💖💙

I've been so excited to show off our favorite cotton candy girlies again 💕

Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links

[ominousmotion]

Decided that I'm gonna do some inktober prompts generously shared by the lovely @kraeuterhexchen so here is day 2: Star

A crows longing for a life already lived

[therentyoupay]

Three sentence meme: Tahnorra + Arranged Marriage AU 💍🌊

Heart heavy with the weight of all the lifetimes, journeys, and Promises of those who came before her—and how could they do this to her, how could they have made this Promise for her, some 200 years ago—Korra of the Southern Islands, the Avatar, the rescuer, stood at the altar on the beach amidst the gilded glow of the sunset and dipped her hands into the sacred basin, touching her forehead, heart, and then his hands, binding this once-waterbender to her—in this lifetime.

Tahno, the once-arrogant and once-selfish soldier from the Eastern Swamp Islands whose power—whose spirit?—was stolen from him, met her gaze with dull gray eyes, as if he were begging her, one last time, You don’t have to do this—I am no longer what I was and you don’t deserve the burden of dealing with what’s left of me; curse the Ancient Promise and what the Elders think it means; you owe us nothing.

Even when he had controlled water, he had never understood it, and he had never fully understood the lengths to which she would go to fulfill her duty, but he wouldn’t be allowed to underestimate her any longer; he would watch as she restored balance to the world and to the spirit realm, as she returned his bending, and—if he had any respect for her at all, for their tribes, for their islands, for himself—he would spend every day of the rest of their lifetimes ensuring that he was worthy of her strength, her Promise Kept, her compassion, her sacrifice.

♡ image

♡ ♡ askbox meme

[emry-stars-art]

So who remembers this doodle and the post it went with

Because these tags and the resulting chats gave me ideas (thanks @jtl-fics 😌)

So now as I frantically sort through my Evernote notebook, trying to find something I might be able to post; I remember I did write this, actually. So have another snippet, because I miss you guys

Find the royal au masterpost here 💕

[xoxoemynn]

Is there any chance of more clock boys? 👀

YES! There's a clockmaker prompt for AUgust so that was some great motivation to work on the next installment. Ed and Stede are going to have their first date and it's going to be romantic af.

And actually, since it's WIP Wednesday, you can have the first bit! (And if you want to read the rest of the series, you can do so here.)

[bekkachaos]

For the writing prompt - #5 for Malex please ☺️☺️

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Deep Sky didn't get many new recruits, but when they did, they were obviously brilliant in one way or another.

The newest team member, a twenty-something classical physicist named Ash, had been labelled somewhat of a prodigy and after a rocky initiation, fit right in.

Not only was he somewhat of a human calculator but he had a quick witted nature about him that everyone seemed to love.

He and Alex got along very well. They bounced ideas off one another and were usually on a very similar wavelength when it came to their thoughts, so when the two of them came together on a project they usually got a lot further than others had in half the time.

Alex sat on the couch at home, the dregs of a glass of wine sat on the coffee table as Michael walked over with a glass of whiskey and the last of the bottle to top up Alex's glass. He had been regaling a story from earlier in the day about some piece of technology they had been tinkering on together, his mouth drawn up in a smile as he explained the way he watched Ash work and how Eduardo had started to joke that they were sounding like an old married couple.

"Honestly, I was never that smart at his age," Alex said as Michael put down the empty bottle and slotted in beside him so that he could put his arm around his shoulders. "I think it should probably be illegal. He just gets this crazed look on his face when he's onto something, although today that led to him nearly electrocuting himself."

He chuckled as he looked back at Michael who just nodded, smiling with just his lips and eyebrows before he took a drink from his own glass.

"Sounds like fun," he said dryly, making Alex narrow his eyes at him curiously.

"Okay, what's with the mood?" he said, making Michael shrug in that infuriating way he did when he was about to make Alex guess what was going on in his brain.

"No mood," he said.

"There's a mood, or, you know, thoughts happening in there," he smirked, making Michael roll his eyes.

"No thoughts," he shrugged again, and Alex chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I mean I've just been sitting here listening to you talk about spending all day with some guy, but no, no real thoughts."

"I've been talking about the project, Guerin," Alex shook his head. "Ash is helping me with that so he's probably going to come up. What have you got against him? You didn't mind him when you came in to drop me some food last week."

"Never said I had anything against him," he said, smirking back at Alex and nudging his shoulder with his chest. "Have you? Had anything against him?"

He was teasing, in tone, but Alex knew Michael well, enough to know the way he was tensing his body up, deflecting with jokes and an arrogant curl of his mouth. It was the same posturing he did when he became defensive, protective, and one other thing.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Michael squirmed a little, scoffing with a roll of his eyes.

"Of that scrawny kid?" he said, snorting derisively and making Alex bite his lip to stop from laughing.

"You're the same build as he is."

"You noticed that huh?"

"Michael," he said with an exasperated sigh, putting his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "If you find him attractive well that's on you, don't bring me into it."

"So you don't then?" Michael asked, that antagonistic smirk still glued to his mouth.

"Honestly? I haven't noticed," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I don't notice those things anymore. If you asked then yeah, objectively I could say he's an attractive guy. But I'm not attracted to him."

Michael let out a sigh through his nose, his lips faltering a moment as he gave away the facade, putting his glass down on the table and letting his hand rest on Alex's knee.

"So you don't need to be jealous, of him, or anyone else," he said, reaching out to press his palm to Michael's chest, sliding it up and over the crook between his shoulder and neck.

And then the smirk was back, a shrug of his shoulders as he slid his hand further up Alex's thigh, over his hip and slipping his fingers under the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't worry, I'm not," he said, leaning in until he could place a soft kiss under Alex's jaw, his head tilting up willingly to give him the space to crowd him closer. "I mean, can that guy do this?"

He mumbled the words into his skin, chasing them down with his tongue, then his lips, his hand rising higher under Alex's shirt until he was slowly pulling back so that Alex could raise his arms and be stripped out of it.

Michael's arrogant smirk was replaced by parted lips and hungry eyes, making Alex roll his eyes as he let Michael shift him so that he had one leg on the couch and the other on the floor, a perfect fit between them for Michael to settle.

"Nah, he just gets the science and that little wrinkle you get when you think too hard," he grinned, making Alex chuckle and drop his head back a moment.

"You're an idiot," Alex said as Michael leant in over him.

"You're in love with an idiot," he smiled, leaving a soft kiss against Alex's lips. "What does that say about you?"

send me a pairing and a prompt from this list 💕

[anawrites3]

Slade and Bruce are having a staring contest over Dicks kitchen table.

Bruce probably walked in on them and jumped to conclusions

Slade crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back more comfortably in the chair. Bruce Wayne kept glaring at him from the other side of the kitchen table. The scowl on his face ruined the whole 'Brucie image', making him look more like Batman instead.

Dressed in an expensive Armani suit that had to cost more than this whole place, Wayne looked very out of place in Dick's small messy kitchen. Well. It wasn't like Slade looked there any better, still wearing his Deathstroke armor sans the mask.

Dick wasn't in the kitchen with them - he suddenly decided that his living room needed cleaning right this second and so he just fled after seating them in front of each other at his kitchen table. A smart move. Also kind of mean but Slade didn't mind being in the same room with the Bat so much, especially if it meant keeping him away from Dick and delaying his big speech of how bad of a man Slade was.

As if Dick didn't already know that.

For now Wayne decided to just stick to glaring at him. Staring contest was the most childish powerplay there was but Slade decided to indulge the man this once, since he was in a pretty good mood.

"Wilson." Wayne finally growled out.

"Wayne." Slade replied lazily with a cock of his eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?" Wayne asked, the same question he asked just after seeing Slade in Dick's apartment.

In answer Slade gripped his cup without looking away from the man and brought it to his lips to take a loud sip.

"I'm drinking coffee." He shrugged. "What are you doing here?"

Wayne slammed his fist against the table, "Don't play with me, Deathstroke. If you think I'll just let you walk in here whenever you want-"

"This is Grayson's place." Slade interrupted him sharply. "Not yours. You have no power here, no matter how much you'd like to, you don't get to set your rules here. If Grayson decides to invite me there isn't a thing you can do to change it."

"Actually," A voice started and Wayne looked to the side where Dick was leaning against the wall - and lost the staring contest between them. Ha. "I don't remember inviting you here today, Slade."

Wayne scowled even harder but before he got to say anything, Slade smirked and purred out. "You didn't have to, little bird. I know you always enjoy my company."

Dick's cheek turned a delicious shade of pink.

"Dick-" Wayne started, a warning.

"Slade, I need you to stop talking."

"You were the one who started it. I'm simply sitting here, enjoying my coffee." To emphasize the point, Slade took another loud sip.

Wayne's face twitched so Slade did it again.

[meadow-roses]

hi I think you’re so brave and cool!! thank you for helping me access anime shows and talking to me about my feelings and sharing yours with me!!

ashvhkbhbdhcg thank you 🥺🥺🥺 I'm so so grateful for you, my friend! 😭💕 Thank you for the encouragement, I am trying so hard to be brave 😂

I love sharing anime shows with you and talking about our feelings! Thank you for sharing your time with me!!!! :D