#thanks for the prompt Tanis

[kitteneddiediaz]

Hi Baz 🩵

If inspiration strikes for Buddie:

hello/goodbye hugs that linger

Hi Tanis! Thank you for the prompt! <3

Buck arrives at the Diaz house at exactly 6:44 in the morning, already dreading the emptiness he's going to feel this afternoon.

Eddie and Chris are awake, suitcases parked by the front door, doing last minute double-checks of all the stuff they need to bring for a two week trip to Texas.

And Buck's happy - he really is - because this is the first time that he's ever seen Eddie seem... actually excited to go home. Things with his dad have been really good, and things with his mom are... getting there. But from what Eddie's told Buck, Ramon came to Eddie's defense once he felt comfortable enough to confront his mom about how she had hurt him. So there's that, plus, Eddie's always ridiculously excited for when he gets to see his sisters.

So yeah, Buck's happy Eddie's going on a family trip that he isn't dreading for once, but that doesn't mean Buck isn't dreading being on the other side of those state lines, roughly 800 miles and a whole timezone away from his best friend.

He's pulled from his thoughts by Eddie tossing a duffel bag at his feet from across the room, asking Buck if he can start loading up the Jeep so they can all head over the airport. With a triple check that the front door is locked, Buck pulls out of the driveway and begins the journey to the airport.

It's pretty quiet for most of the drive, with all three of them being too tired to really talk too much. Parking is, as it always is, a nightmare. And then before Buck knows it he's standing on the edge of the security line with Eddie and Chris, ready to send them off.

"You gonna be okay?" Eddie asks, probably sensing Buck's anxiety over being without his Diaz boys for a whole two weeks.

"Y-y-yeah. Yeah, I'll be alright. Gonna spend a lot of time with um, with Maddie. And Tommy."

"Okay," Eddie mouths, and then he's stepping forward to wrap Buck in his arms.

Buck sighs into it, relaxing into it, breathing Eddie in and holding on to him for as long as he can right now. It feels like Eddie is doing the same, burrowing into Buck's neck, hands tucked tight over Buck's ribs.

They're close enough when they part that Buck has to tilt his chin down to meet Eddie's eyes, it's not an angle he gets to be at often, but like always when Eddie's looking up at him from his long thick lashes, Buck's heart swirls around in his chest, love and attraction ricocheting around his sternum and up into his throat.

Eddie squeezes his sides one more time, and then he's stepping back to pick up his and Christopher's bags.

"Say bye to Buck, bud."

Buck leans down into the small hug Chris gives him, and Eddie's still looking at him fondly when he comes back up.

"I'll see you in two weeks?" Eddie asks.

"Two weeks."

"Alright, try not to have too much fun without us."

It draws a laugh out of Buck, definitely sure he's going to actually be sulking for two weeks. But still, he can't have Eddie knowing that.

"No promises," there's a pause as they look at each other, both oozing affection Buck is surprised the gross airport carpet isn't getting more stained. "Please text me, when you land. And call me if you need, my ringer will be on. And let me know when you're leaving El Paso next Thursday so I can come pick you back up."

"Sounds good, Buck. I'll see you later."

"See you..." Buck says. He stays standing there for 30 minutes though like an overprotective parent, watching Eddie and Chris weave their way through the line to the TSA screening. It isn't until they both round the corner into the actual terminal that Buck turns around to head back to his car, feet already dragging on the carpet.

~~~

Two weeks later, on that same carpet square he's sure he dripped overly sappy love and affection last time he was here, Buck waits by the security exit for Chris and Eddie to walk out.

Eddie had texted him that they were taking off two hours and 15 minutes ago, and even though Buck knew traffic wasn't going to be bad enough to make him leave his apartment as early as he did, he couldn't help himself. Rushing out the door, giddy with excitement at seeing his best friend and his best friend's kid again. He sat in his car for about an hour before he got out to walk over to where Eddie and Chris would be coming out. It's now been thirty minutes since he got to where he is now, bouncing back on his heels and then on his toes, excitement spikes every time he sees someone walk around the corner to the waiting crowd.

It's only another three minutes before he spots them though, Buck running forward to wrap Chris and Eddie in his arms, warmth finally bleeding into his system again now that he's gotten to lay his hands on them.

Christopher pulls away after a minute, no doubt grouchy and tired and sore from a long flight, but Buck doesn't mind. Content to wrap Eddie up in his arms and breathe in his scent again.

Eddie pulls back first again this time, but he pauses before he's completely out of Buck's space to bump their noses together softly.

"I missed you." He says.

"I missed you, too." Buck replies, pressing his face forward to nuzzle Eddie right back.

They've never done this before, and as sure as Buck is that it may mean something important that he's excited to crack open with Eddie in a few hours, days, weeks, he really just wants to get his boys home and unpacked and comfortable right now.

The rest can wait.

[londonsfinestscientists]

The count down starts! 14 hours until the first day of Lodgetember!

Friends, folks, pals, chums, the Lodgetember team is proud to announce the 2024 calendar… DRUM ROLL PLEASE!!!

Each day will be celebrated with the following prompt given to you, and for anyone who cannot read the calendar, I’ve prepared a list of the days and prompts below under the cut <3

We’re so excited for this new TGS community celebration, the team has put together a series of days for everyone to celebrate their favorite lodgers and all of them in general, allowing you to put them in different, fun prompt situations throughout all of September. If you have any questions about Lodgetember, you can refer to our ask box! We’ll be happy to answer your questions and comments. We only want to spread creativity and positivity in this community! Please be kind to everyone participating, we’re excited to see what you all make, thank you everyone!!!!

Most notably, thank you @arythusa for making such a wonderful comic that helped us make this event possible

- The Lodgetember Crew Kitty and Leon 💜🦇

Day 1: Mosley

Day 2: Griffin

Day 3: Head-canons

Day 4: Ito

Day 5: Tweedy

Day 6: Ships

Day 7: Pennebrygg

Day 8: Cantilupe

Day 9: Modern

Day 10: Doddle

Day 11: Flowers

Day 12: Fluff

Day 13: Archer

Day 14: Bird

Day 15: Exhibition

Day 16: The Unnamed Lodgers

Day 17: Helsby

Day 18: Pets

Day 19: Chabra

Day 20: Luckett

Day 21: Experiments

Day 22: Maijabi

Day 23: Bryson

Day 24: Celebration

Day 25: Lavender

Day 26: Sinnett

Day 27: AU (Alternate Universes)

Day 28: Tanis

Day 29: Jasper

Day 30: Monsters

[dangerpronebuddie]

My darling Maggie, I need soft too.

So please, gimmie some Buddie + 37. ‘I missed you.’

🩵🩵🩵🩵

My darling Tanis, I hope this helps the need 🩵. I really enjoyed this one! 🥰

Buck checks his phone for about the eleventh time and sighs. Still nothing from Eddie. His flight had been delayed twice already. Chris had been so excited to meet Eddie at the airport, but when it got to be midnight and Eddie still hadn't arrived, Buck had to call off their surprise. Chris was too tired to protest much. Buck flips through the channels, staring unseeing at the TV screen. He decided he'd wait up for Eddie as long as he could. But it was approaching three in the morning and he had a shift later. He was just about to give up and pass out right there on the couch, when he heard keys in the door. His shoulders drop with relief at the sound. He had to admit, at least to himself, that he'd been worried since Eddie left a week ago. But his mom was sick and needed help, and Eddie wasn't about to let them down. So, Buck offered to stay with Chris, much to the kid's absolute delight. And Buck's. He stands and pads to the entryway. At first, Eddie doesn't see him. He's focused on trying to close the door with as little noise as possible, and failing miserably thanks to the squeaky hinge Buck had yet to fix. “You're late,” Buck says in a hushed voice. Eddie looks at Buck, a fond- albeit tired- smile on his face. “There wasn't construction on Sunset this time.” “Honestly, it probably would've been faster,” Buck comments as Eddie toes off his shoes. “How's everyone doing?” “Mom's finally better,” Eddie says on a sigh. “Dad has joined a golf club, a chess club, and a dancing club, all to keep out of mom's hair.” He sheds his jacket and hangs it beside Buck's before turning to face him. He looks exhausted. Like he just worked a double shift and then chaperoned a sleepover of ten rowdy kids. “And what about you?” Buck asks, pushing off the archway he was leaning against and stepping closer. “I…” Eddie pauses, like he's not sure he should say what he's going to. “I missed you.” Buck's heart swells. He doesn't think he's ever been told that in his life. Not even by Eddie. It feels… like heaven. Like being wrapped in a blanket straight from the dryer. Like… being loved. “I missed you too,” Buck says softly, wrapping his arms around Eddie and burying his face in his neck. Eddie sighs in content and practically melts against him, curling his arms around his waist. Buck takes a deep breath, smoothing a hand over the back of Eddie's head. He smells like sandalwood and citrus and home. Buck has been living in the Diaz house all week, surrounded by hints of Eddie everywhere, but nothing compares to the real thing. “I missed you so much,” Buck whispers, holding tighter. Eddie presses closer, his head against Buck's. “I missed you too, darlin’.” Buck's breath catches in his throat at the pet name, at the easy fondness in Eddie's tone, at the drawl that lingers from spending a week back home. He pulls back just enough to look at Eddie, who has to crane his neck to see him with their proximity. “Darlin’?” Buck asks, feeling his face heat, but smirking nonetheless. “Would you prefer sweetheart? Or baby? Or snookums?” Eddie teases. “I'd prefer husband,” Buck blurts out. Before the fear that he's too much can overtake him, Eddie stands on his toes and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Buck's mouth. “We'll work up to that, darlin’.” Buck grins and takes Eddie's face in his hands, pulling him into a deep kiss. It sounds ridiculous to say he's missed kissing Eddie when he's never done it before, but he has. He's missed his smiles and his laugh and his grumpy morning attitude. He's missed his touch, his voice, and even his kiss. And he doesn't have to miss him again.

Send me a soft prompt!

[silent-words]

"comfort" for the fluffy prompts c:

Modern AU has occupied my mind. So, you'll have to bear the problems of the academia with me XD

An Unexpected Call

Gale x F!Tav, SFW, Modern AU, University AU

Gale was sitting in his study and reading (or at least trying to) a scan of a microfilm of a 19th century magazine on the display of his PC. The quality was so poor, that he had to put a strain on his eyes. His head started pounding, his vision blurring by tears. Gale pinched his nose and threw his head back. There was still half of the article to be read and analysed.

Suddenly Gale's phone started ringing. When he looked at it, he furrowed his brow. It was unusual for her to ring him at all. He picked it up nonetheless.

'Hi, Tani! Is anything the matter?'

'Oh, I,' she was clearly sobbing, 'I'm sorry for calling you, Gale.'

'I don't have classes today, so it's alright. You sound upset.' He got more worried by the second. 'What happened?'

'Don't worry, it's nothing.' She made a glottal stop, probably trying to calm herself. 'I called you because I have no one else to talk to about my problems at the Uni. I know I shouldn't bother you...'

'Why don't you come over to my place and tell me about it?' he said, 'We'll have a cup of tea, you'll tell me everything, and I'll do what I can to help you.'

'Are you sure? I don't want to interrupt you.' She was hesitant.

'I've got headache from work already, and I think a distraction in the form of a talk will be a good idea.'

'Thank you very much. I'm travelling from work now, just send me the address, I'll come at once.'

Gale smiled looking at the phone. The anticipation of someone coming to his lonely home brought so much joy into his heart. Well, not someone, but Kitani, his favourite academic rival.

I've realised I don't have the energy to write the continuation. I may extend this in the future, however.

[wispstalk]

OC prompt meme: Coradri, 7

7 - personality

The life of a Grandmaster, when it comes down to it, is not so different from the life of a monk. Jauffre spends most of his days in seclusion, elbow-deep in ink and paper. Takes his meals alone at his desk, so there is minimal interruption to his work.

Usually the kitchen is empty by the time Jauffre finally remembers to break his fast. This time it is not. Tanis, as he often does when Jauffre enters a room, leaves. Coradri remains, spooning jam into a helmet with the focus of a surgeon.

“Coradri,” he says wearily, “what are you doing?”

“I am putting jam in Baurus’s helmet.” She reaches in to smear it around, not looking up from her work. “He beat me, sparring this morning, so.”

No further explanation comes; such vengeance, to her, is a foregone conclusion. She licks jam from her fingers.

“These little games of yours waste time and,” he says, “not to mention resources. All our stores must be brought up by mules, you know.”

“Oh, I only put about a spoonful in,” she says, and spoons in more. “It’s not that much. If I came in here and ate it instead, you wouldn’t call that waste, would you?”

He must, in fact, account for two extra mouths that refuse to speak the Blades’ vows. He tries not to think of this as waste; he tries not to resent it. The Hero of Kvatch proved himself bloody and efficient, and the girl's wiles come part and parcel with his presence. Jauffre will not disturb their fragile peace and cast aside allies. And thus he finds himself negotiating with a hellion who sees him not as spymaster or diplomat or elite guard to the highest office in all Tamriel, but as a sort of crotchety uncle.

“Coradri.” Jauffre sighs as if to squeeze one last drop of patience up from his diaphragm. “We can't afford any lapses in vigilance. Our fortress could be attacked, and I have all of a dozen Blades to defend the last surviving heir to the Ruby Throne. When they’re not sleeping, they are on duty, and your little… pranks… interfere.”

The Elder Council has abandoned us, he wants to add. The legion is overwhelmed and bleeding numbers, through casualty or desertion, and the counts and countesses have hunkered down within their walls to weather out the storm, and the common folk are fleeing only to find there is nowhere to go. Some part of him longs to lay out all he learns in his correspondences, to show someone else the way this crisis creeps to every edge of his map like a slime mold.

But he won’t; he knows how to bear such weight alone.

Still no answer. The girl studies him with candid eyes and a slight smile, smooth and transparent as pure water. The perfect, practiced innocence of a liar so seasoned she can evade the need for it at all. She really would, he laments, make an excellent Blade.

“I’m not stupid,” she finally says. “I know why we’re here. But I think you have to laugh, even now, especially now. Otherwise we might as well march south and throw ourselves in the lake. Yeah?”

Jauffre lets his head hang. A half-smile tugs insistently at the corners of his mouth.

“I doubt Baurus will be laughing,” he says wryly.

“But I will,” she trills, and sets the helmet aside.

He leans his chin in his hands. “Your help has been invaluable to us, you know. I don’t want to have to scold you like some unruly child.”

Coradri snorts. “What are you gonna do, then, take away my birthday?”

The door to the east wing opens, and Jauffre hears the familiar clank-and-scrape of lamellar armor. Baurus pokes his head around the corner. “Ah! There it is.”

Coradri throws Jauffre a warning look. “You left it in the kitchen after breakfast,” says she who surely stole it from the barracks. “And it took you this long to notice? I’d say that shows a certain laxity, Captain Baurus. A lapse in your vigilance.”

“Thanks, Coradri,” he says flatly, and strides out with it under his arm. Not a breath later, they hear a yelp and a string of curses from the other side of the door. Jauffre rolls his lips inward, containing himself.

Clanking footfalls approach the east wing door. Coradri is already halfway out the kitchen window. “Don’t you dare laugh,” she says, throwing a stern look over her shoulder. “Back to your duties!”

[matthewkniesys]

hi claire! i was wondering if you could do “this reminded me of you” with jamie drysdale?

love you 🫶

love you too tani 💜

Usually Jamie was the worst at buying gifts, but this year for Christmas he was determined to get you the most amazing gift. When he found the candle that smells exactly like he new it was the perfect present to get you. It was small and he would get you other things as well but it was so meaningful.

When christmas came around Jamie was so absolutely excited to give you your gift. He gave it to you last. When you opened it you were honestly pretty suprised. He usually bought horrible gifts.

"Oh Jame, this is such a cute candle." You smell it, it smells familiar but you can't quite pin point why.

"It reminded me of you! As soon as I smelt it is thought how it smelt exactly like you." He replies.

"Thank you Jame this means so much to me!" Needless to say you and Jamie had a pretty great Christmas.

Claire's prompt week

[fist-and-fury-xiv]

17. How would your character react if they discovered a likeable acquaintance was Garlean? Violently? With suspicion? Or would they ignore it altogether?

Given his connections, and various travels to Eorzea’s distant corners, it’s very likely that Otolin has already discovered an acquaintance or friend is Garlean. 

In such cases, he isn’t one to react violently. Impulsive actions just aren’t part of his nature. He would react with some suspicion, but continue to operate and work with the same mindset for the most part. 

With Otolin, there’s always an intent to understand who he’s speaking with. In his opinion, not all Garleans need to be put to the sword. There are some exceptions of course, and he’s willing to give them a chance albeit with a short leash until proven otherwise. Even with non-Garleans, it takes some time for him to trust anyone. 

Deep down, he also believes that meeting the “right” Garlean might one day lead him down the road to discovering what and why parts of his memory are missing or just still completely blank. 

He’s reluctant to explore what might have caused this, but knows one day he will have to confront it. 

[hailbop1701]

Lifer

Hawaii Five-0 Prompt Drabble:

Keyword: Retired

Word Count: 852

Once again there is no beta so there will be typos.

Danny had just been kidding himself when he thought of retirement. He knew deep down that it was a pipe dream or maybe wishful thinking. Standing on Steve’s lanai he watched as a storm rolled in. Chuckling darkly to himself Danny lifted another board over the windows; he was still looking after the place after his partner went on his soul quest several months earlier. He came and went, made sure no one broke in, protected it during storms such as these, and sometimes he even showed up when he just wanted some peace.

Hammering several nails into place Danny cocked his head when he heard Junior quickly thump down the stairs. That was something everyone had been doing lately that he was secretly thankful for. Making sure that he wasn’t startled or snuck up on, something Junior learned the hard way. Danny grimaced at the memory; he had broken the poor kids nose and he was beside himself with regret and worry, apologizing long after the incident had occurred. He knew no one blamed him but he also couldn’t help but notice they treated him differently. Like broken glass to step around. Danny huffed, he wasn’t broken, thank you very much. He was just a little…cracked.

He was mad at first, at Steve for leaving the way he did. After a while, he had become depressed and even closed off - though the team fixed that right away by always being around. Then understanding hit him like a punch to the gut after getting a package in the mail one day. Steve had sent him a postcard and pictures and little knick knacks that represented his travels. Steve looked happy and carefree it made a tension – that Danny didn’t even know that he had — release.

Like they said, time heals all wounds. More or less. Sure those wounds leave scars and during bad weather, you can feel them with a deep ache that would eventually be dull enough to get through.

Shaking the board making sure it wouldn’t move Danny stepped back. Junior eased out onto the lanai and looked at the boarded up home with a sad smile. “She’s all ready for the storm,” he said, packing up the tools. Danny hummed and turned to look as lightning lit up the sky and thunder cracked overhead.

Lou had asked him if was going to retire after Steve left and Danny kept silent for a long time before answering. Told him honestly without the dramatics that he usually added to a typical conversation. It was like he told Steve years before, all he had was Grace and his job. Though that had changed somewhat with Charlie coming into his life. Now he had Grace - who was in California for school - Charlie - who was growing up so damn fast - and his job. It’s all he had.

If he retired Danny didn’t have the first clue on what to do. The restaurant was a bust from the start and Charlie was still in school and mostly with Rachel so he wouldn’t have anything to do until his days with him. Danny was certain he would go insane.

He ended up ranting anyway.

Lou just smiled at him and nodded, he lifted his beer in cheers. “You’re a lifer. I’m honestly not surprised.” he murmured and Danny smiled in agreement. Lifting his own Longboard he tapped it against Lou’s.

“Lifer,” he muttered with a nod.

“Danny?” The sound of his name brought him back to the present. It wasn’t Junior but Tani, she stood a few feet away from him wearing a sad smile. She held up his phone in her hand, waving it a little as it rang shrilly. Blinking Danny gave her a grin and took it; he must have left it inside.

“Detective Williams,”

Danny was silent as dispatch informed him of a body. Junior and Tani watched him from the doorway of the house poised and ready to go. Nodding Danny sighed, “Alright we’ll be there as soon as possible. Make sure CSU gets everything they can before the storm hits.”

Pocketing the device he turned to the two youngest Five-0 members, “We got a case boss?” Tani asked moving to lock up.

“Body up on the North Shore. We need to get going before we get hammered.”

Both Tani and Junior moved quickly in locking up the McGarrett home and out to Tani’s car which Junior decided he wanted to drive much to her annoyance and to Danny’s utter amusement. Sliding into his new deep Navy blue Camaro Danny gave the empty home one last look before pulling away.

His grandmother had said during a tough time, “There’s always a day after a storm.”

Smiling Danny raced down the highway with dark clouds at his back. Steve would return when he was ready and his Ohana would be there waiting. So all Danny could do for now was wait for tomorrow. Wait for his best friend to come home.

But nobody said he had to be a lump as he waited; he had a team to run after all.

[songbookff]

For the writing prompts:

-Lin taking care of Kya after a long day of healing

-Lin giving no fucks about what other people think of her and Kya’s relationship

-Kya taking Lin to some medical award thing as her plus one

-Lin’s subordinates just being to damn ignorant to realize that Kya is Lin’s girlfriend

Alrighty, so I picked my favorite of these. Might get around to another, but for now, it’s the last one: 

“Is the Chief in?” asked Ming as he walked into the main office. “There’s some lady at the front desk asking for her.” 

“Some lady?” asked Tani, Lin’s secretary, from where she stood at a filing cabinet. 

“Yeah, gray hair, waterbender, seems familiar, but I can’t place her.” 

“Probably, Kya. That’s Councilman Tenzin’s sister. She’s an old friend, let her back,” answered Tani. 

“Since when did the Chief have friends,” laughed another officer. 

***

“Is that the Chief?” asked Lu, nudging his partner, Gang. 

Across the restaurant, Lin Beifong sat in casual clothes across the table from a waterbender. They were deep in conversation, halfway through their meal. 

“Wonder if she’s interviewing someone for a job...” 

“Maybe she’s undercover?” 

***

“Kya is here to see you, Chief,” said Mako, leaning his head into her office. 

“Thanks, kid.” Lin set down the file she was reading and started packing up for the day. 

To the surprise of her subordinates, the Chief early for the day. Kya was waiting in the lobby and the two got into the Chief’s car together. 

“Huh. Do you think the Chief is sick or something?” asked Song. “That Kya woman, she’s a healer right?” 

“Yeah, that’s probably what it is. Man, wish I had a fancy healer that made house calls,” laughed Song’s partner. 

***

The young recruit that had been assigned to take an urgent case file over to the Chief came back with interesting information one morning. 

“Hey, did you know the Chief got a roommate?” 

“No way...she’s loaded, it’s not like she needed to split the rent.” 

“Maybe she got lonely?” 

“After fifty years, yeah right.” 

“I’m telling you, she has a roommate. Some waterbender.” 

“Weird.” 

***

It was at the celebration of the founding of Republic City that most of the Police Force watched Lin Beifong press a kiss to the lips of a waterbender they had scene hanging around the Station from time to time. 

“Huh, who saw that coming?” 

[kitteneddiediaz]

135. “clean my fingers, this is your mess”

Hiiiiiii Tanis 💗 Prompt posted and I can go make cookies now!! I will send some to you via internet waves. This prompt was also requested by an anon. Thank you both!

NSFW below the cut!!

Eddie is the WORST person to have in the kitchen. Not because he's a bad cook, because he's gotten so, so much better in the past few years. No, Eddie's bad to have in the kitchen because he's a distraction.

Buck, being the ridiculous man that he is, is making an Angel Food Cake from scratch for Jee-Yun's fourth birthday. There's a bowl full of egg yolks on the counter that Buck will use throughout the day on some other recipes: aioli, homemade pasta, and probably a few for some of their salad tonight at dinner.

But, the cake batter sitting on the counter is the real reason that Buck is pretend-grumpy with Eddie. Every time Buck turns his back, he can see Eddie in the reflection of the oven door dipping his finger into the batter to eat.

No amount of swats or tsks are deterring him either, and Buck is a little nervous that if it keeps going on that there won't be enough batter to even make Jee-Yun a cake.

He makes a fatal mistake though, the next time Eddie reaches for the bowl. Buck faked him out, turning only a little to whip back and smack at Eddie's hand before it makes it into the batter.

But Buck smacking at Eddie's hand causes his hand to crash into the side of the bowl rather than inside of it. This knocks the bowl forward, and Buck can feel the spike of adrenaline as it teeters over the edge of the counter.

He catches it, barely, at the same time that his boyfriend gasps behind him. But in catching it, Buck's own hand dips into the batter, covering his fingers in the sticky sweetness.

The anxiety of the near-miss dissipates, and Eddie bursts into giggles, covering his mouth to try and hide his grin at Buck's plight.

Buck laughs too, but it's laced with fond frustration. He looks up, glaring at Eddie through his smile, and then he's rounding the counter to tower over where Eddie is seated in the bar stool.

"You're a pain in the ass." Buck hisses, the corners of his eyes still crinkled with joy.

It makes Eddie giggle again.

"Clean my fingers, this is your mess."

"My mess?" Eddie exclaims. "I didn't make you stick your hand in the batter." "You refuse to listen. Clean." Buck says.

The thing is, the paper towels are right next to where Eddie is sitting. Which is what Buck was thinking that Eddie would use to get the batter off him. But instead, Eddie grabs Buck's hand and brings it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digits and sucking.

It's so frustrating, and it makes Buck's heart rate pick up, his breathing quickening. Eddie's tongue slides over and between Buck's fingers, until all the batter is gone, and Buck's fingers are perfectly Clean.

The oven beeps, but Buck hasn't a thought in his mind to care about baking right now. Instead, he pulls Eddie off the stool and pushes him down onto his knees, pulling his mostly-soft cock out of his sweats to feed into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie licks him happily here, too. And it isn't long before Buck is fully hard and throbbing where he is, with his cock head buried into the space behind Eddie's soft palate and his balls almost touching his chin.

Eddie takes him like he was made for this; gag reflex perfectly tamed and teeth completely avoiding scraping along any inch of Buck.

Only a few more thrusts, and Buck is coming down Eddie's throat, toes curling at Eddie tightening and swallowing around him.

He pulls out, makes Eddie lick clean the cum and excess spit from his dick, and then he's tucking himself back into his pants, and rounding the corner to wash his hands.

"I should piss you off more often." Eddie teases, voice a little scratchy.

Buck flicks water at him, chuckling and shaking his head at Eddie's insistence on being so Obnoxious.

But, at least he's not stealing batter anymore.

[theskylarkin]

Event: AU-gust 2021

Prompt: Dancing

Fandom: Ni No Kuni II: Revenant Kingdom

Rating: G

Genre: Dance/Dance Parent AU (Mundane Modern Setting, Humans Only, No Items)

Characters: Batu, Tani, Nella, Evan, Roland, Mausinger, some Evermore citizen cameos

Pairings: None

Vague Spoilers for the Lost Lord DLC

Warnings: None

Acknowledgments: Thank you to @little-boats-writes / little_boats_on_a_lake for beta reading!

Summary: There was a new face at dance class when Batu dropped his daughter off. Two new faces, in fact.

[dangerpronebuddie]

I HAVE TO PICK ONE?! Sigh. Fine.

BTHB: Verbal Abuse

Hi my darling Tanis 🩵 (who says there's a limit?)

With the way s7 ended, it presented the perfect plot for Verbal Abuse. Long story short, Chris wants to go home and Helena fights Eddie about it. Every sentence out of that woman's mouth is a judgement or a disparagement, so she's perfect for this prompt. (Did I add some good ol' fashioned projecting? Maybe 😅).

Did I write more on this wip as soon as I saw your ask? Most definitely. I was stuck. You got me unstuck! Thank you lovely. Muah! 😘

(p.s. I know it's not the actual argument, but we're getting there 😉)

"Go for Buck," he mumbles as soon as he answers. "Buck, I know it's late, and I'm sorry, but I-" "Hey, whoa, Eds it's okay," Buck says, sounding much more awake now. "What's wrong?" Eddie sniffs and huffs a ghost of a laugh. "He wants to come home." There's a hiccupped gasp on the other end, followed by rustling. "Really?" "Yeah," Eddie says. "I um... would you come with me?" "Yes," Buck says before Eddie can finish asking the question. "Of course I will, Eds. Give me half an hour." Buck hangs up, leaving Eddie standing in his empty living room that doesn't feel so lonely for a change. He and Chris aren't completely okay yet, he knows it'll take time, but they can't heal until they acknowledge the wound is there at all. Eddie doesn't know how long he stands there, staring at Chris' place on the couch, before keys jingle beyond the door. Buck rushes in and tackles Eddie in a tight hug. "He wants to come home," he whispers against Eddie's neck. "He wants to come home," Eddie says, a smile spreading across his face even as tears fill his eyes. Buck squeezes extra tight before pulling back to beam at Eddie, his smile brighter than it's been in months. "Let's go get our kid."

Ask about my wips! 🩷

[miggyfan]

college!au, friends to lovers & prompt 5 😏

“you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

Anyone who would walk in Thomas’s room right now, would probably think he was just hanging out with his girlfriend. 

A pretty blond stretched on the couch next to him, in shorts and a blue detroit tigers tee-shirt way too big to be hers, her head on his laps, reading some papers, while he was gently running his fingers in her long curls spread on this thighs.

But the thing was, Juliet wasn’t his girlfriend. 

They knew eachother since forever, their fathers were friends, both pilot in the navy, their moms practically raised them like brothers and sisters, until Thomas started to notice that Juliet was not just his best friend. 

She was more than that, so much more it hurt.

Little things like holding her hand, or hugging her, insinificant little things that they used to do all the time, started to feel uncomfortable for him, because touching her wasn’t so innocent anymore.

He wanted to kiss her, to let his hands roam over her body that wasn’t so skinny anymore.

Each new curve torturing him, each time she jumped on him to tease him. 

Her round breasts pressed against his chest, or her perky little butt sitting on his lap, were like lethal weapons, killing him with desire.

The problem was, Juliet couldn’t understand that.

She was like a bulldozer, crushing his poor little heart, unaware of the effect she had on him.

He had tried to make her understand how he felt about her, many times during high school, he asked her out, he even went to prom with her, just to hear her telling to her friend Tani that they were together as friends, just friends, the best in the world.

He would never forget the sad look Tani gave him at the moment, she gently took him on the side to tell him: “She’s just not ready, just wait, one day, she’s the one who would come for you, she’s the one who will ask you out...”

Magnum had laughed, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and nodded, he was so tired of pretending that he wasn’t in love with his best friend.

So he tried to move on with his life, he dated a lot, frustrated that all those girls weren’t the one he really wanted.

He kept on trying to be happy, giving her his best smile, being the best friend she needed.

“ It’s good, It’s actually really good ! I’m so proud of you my little student ! ” Said suddenly Juliet, bringing him back to reality.

“ Really ? don’t sound so surprised, I worked hard on this ! “

“Really, I’m sure you’re going to get a very good grade for it !”

“Okay then ! Thanks for the help ! “ He replied with a grin.

Juliet bit her lip, and studied his face for a second, weirdly searching his eyes, like she wanted to read his mind, and Magnum felt suddenly really uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

“I want to ask you something, but promised me you won’t laugh okay ?”

“For the last time, I’m not going to pose as a model for your art class!”

“Noooo  !!!! It’s not... it’s not what I was going to ask !!! You made yourself pretty clear about that, I won’t ask again !”

“So what do you want ?”

“There is this guy I like....And I want to ask him out but before that....I want you to teach me how to kiss, I mean a real kiss, with tongue and everything...”

All the colors drained at Magnum’s face, he was so pale, he look like she had just stabbed him right in his heart.

How could she ask him that ? How could she hurt him like that ?

Magnum closed his eyes, and covered his face with his palm, desperately trying to hide his pain, he couldn’t even look at her anymore.

Juliet  sat up on the couch next to him, her hand on his lap.

“Come on, it’s nothing for you, you had a lot of girlfriends, so you’re some kind of an expert at this, and you have just broke up with Abby, so it’s not like you’re cheating on anyone, it’s just me...”

“Do you think I’m made of rocks ! Do you think that I’m as insensitive as you are ! Just because  you have the emotional capacity of a brick, it doesn’t mean that everyone is like you !” Suddenly shouted Magnum, grabbing her forcefully by her arms.

He brought her closer to him, close enough to breath the same air, his lips nearly grazing hers.

His eyes diving into hers, he whispered in a low voice :

“ I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t...If you think you can just waste your first kiss like that, maybe I don’t know you at all.”

“You’re angry...” She replied, with a trembling voice, she didn’t seem so confident anymore.

“Of course I’m angry ! What kind of question is that ?!!! Believe me from someone who had kiss the wrong girl for his first time, it’s not something you want throw away like it’s nothing ! You should share it with someone you’re in love with, someone very special, that way when you will remember it, you’ll have a smile on your face, not regrets !”

“This is why I’m asking you.”

“What ?”

“The person really special to me, the person I love...It’s you...”

For the first time in his life, Magnum her very talkative friend couldn’t say anything, he stayed there, in shock, staring at her like he was seeing for the first time.

Juliet sat on his lap, straddling him, her hands on his chest, she could feel how fast his heart was beating.

“Please stop messing with me, this is not funny !“ muttered Magnum, his head back on the sofa backrest, covering his face with his hands.

Juliet rose on her knees to lightly kiss his knuckles, taking his fingers out of his face one by one, with each shy kiss.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life, I love you, there is noone else but you.”

She tenderly nuzzled his face until he finally look back at her, her rosy lips gently grazing his, begging him for permission.

“You are going to kill me, you know that.” He whispered against her lips, his eyes locked with hers.

“Not today...” She whispered back, her hands slowly caressing in his hair.

“You have no idea, how long I’ve been waiting for this moment ...”

He finally granted her wish, by kissing her, shy and smooth at first, then he grew more demanding and passionate, his tongue slipping in her mouth, making her moaned with each stroke of his tongue against hers, teasing her until they were both breathless.

Juliet was panting heavily as he was kissing his way down her jaw to the crook of her neck.

She arched her back in his arms, as his hands were slowly caressing her sides and back, pulling her closer to him.

Juliet grounded her hips down on his crotch, torturing him in slow delightful motions, her greedy hands sliding under his shirt, teasing his firm abs.

When she tried to take his shirt off, Magnum grabbed her hands to stop her.

“I can’t believe I’m saying that, but slow down a little, okay... You really don’t want to rush this...”

“You don’t know what I want.” she said in a breath, panting against his lips.

“Believe me, I do.”

Juliet sighed, she saw a gravity in his eyes, that she had never seen before, and wondered if she really knew everything about his best friend.

Maybe he had been a better friend to her, than she had been to him.

She closed her arms around his neck and smiled at him, and whispered : 

“Okay professor Magnum, I think I got the kissing part, now, when are you going to teach me lesson 2 ?”

Magnum squirmed uncomfortably under her, feeling his pants getting tighter and tighter, that girl was going to be the death of him.

“Don’t worry about lesson 2, now you are going to have an evaluation on lesson 1″ He replied with a smile, he laid her down on the couch under him, shifting they position, ready to show her how good her teacher was.

[leapyearkisses]

For the director’s cut: Orbs Are Bad News, please? Part 2 (or both, if you’re willing!) It’s one of my favorites 💗

One of my favorites, too! Thanks for the ask! :D I'll do both parts, with Part 2 to follow this a bit later.

Director's cut comments in bold below the cut! MESS, m/m, holding a handkerchief, etc.

This story came from a prompt on a writing meme about a character losing the use of their hands while having to deal with snz. I can't remember at the moment if the prompt was D&D-flavored or if I just picked that setting myself because I was really into playing the game at the time (still am!). Also I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I hope these comments don't ramble overmuch.

"Okay, we don't know what we're dealing with here, so let's be careful." Gerrit pushed open the heavy wooden door and lifted his torch to illuminate the room inside. The firelight played over several tables covered in intriguing objects and glinted teasingly off of more than one hint of gold. Gerrit himself spotted a stolid wooden chest in the corner and his heart rate quickened.

When I was a kid, my mom gave me the Dragonlance books and I fell in love with them, although it was a long time before I was able to play D&D myself. I attribute my love of the very traditional fantasy realm to these books and my enduring love of sickly mages to Raistlin (Soulforge was like an EXPERIENCE for me). Gerrit has his origins in Tanis Half-Elven - he's a good guy, kind of a normal/default fighter build. "Jackpot," breathed Remembrance, the party's resident ne'er-do-well. She rubbed her hands together, sharp nails clicking. Gerrit was sure she was assigning price tags to the lot of it, except for whatever she hid in her bags for herself, of course. "I know a guy in the capitol who'll pay through the nose for that pervy little statue there." "That is a religious object," chastised Cordes with a haughty tsk. "It's used in rituals of worship for the goddess Fortuna." "Oh, I'm sure he'll be worshipping," cackled Remembrance, and she slipped past Gerrit into the vault. "Few hundred gold and he'll be rubbing out a grand ol' prayer." Her pointed tail waved with greedy delight. "Hey! The proper course of action would be to bring it back to a temple!" Cordes went after her, pushing Gerrit aside.

Remembrance and Cordes are here to be the beta couple and provide background color. Their development was based on a few factors: A) a D&D party should have ~4 people with different abilities (fighter, sorcerer, cleric, rogue), B) a priest and a devil is never not a fun/ny dynamic, C) I'm not into F snz but I feel bad that most of my OCs are not women, and D) given that Gerrit is a "default" archetype, there needed to be differing characters to contrast his personality with (or he would seem to have none). Also I like dirty jokes, so Remembrance can be my humorous id for this purpose lol The half-elf grumbled but wasn't surprised. "At least TRY not to touch anything cursed," he called. He'd been the one to organize this little band, but although he was the one who reported to their patron, he had precious little influence over what they did. They were happy to point to him when some upstart had a problem with the party, though. Ingrates. He turned to the last member of the group. "What about you, Llewellyn? I thought I saw some books on the far table." "Lead the way," replied the sorcerer, and his usually mellifluous voice sounded strained. Purple shadowed the hollows under his faintly luminous silver eyes, and he had his nose tucked into his handkerchief again. Gerrit hadn't spent much time around full elves, but he'd always believed they couldn't get sick, at least not like a human or dwarf. Llewellyn had been dragging since Saints' Day, though, and seemed to have come down with a flu. His skin, where visible under his fitted robes, was wan.

Fuck up that slender, haughty elf man is an endlessly running subroutine in my head. "Sure," said Gerrit, and he stepped into the room, holding the door out so that Llewellyn could join him. "You, uh, you don't look like you're feeling any better." "Oh," said the sorcerer, "I'm not. I ran out of tonics." He entered the vault and walked over to one of the tables, investigating a strangely shaped glass bowl. "But as we were already down here, I'm not sure what you want me to say. There's no inn at which I might rest my weary bones." "Cordes could make you an herbal remedy," Gerrit grumped. He went over to the chest he'd seen earlier and smashed the lock off with the pommel of his dagger. He didn't need any fancy lockpicking tools like Remembrance's. And hitting something felt good when his companions were all intent to be annoying, acerbic, or both. "I suppose," Llewellyn replied, sounding uncertain as his voice wavered. Gerrit tried to ignore the way his ears heated at that. That was the tone that overtook the elf when he was preparing to sneeze. It wasn't any of Gerrit's concern. His occasional roll in the hay (literal and figurative) with Llewellyn did not make it easier or more appropriate to acknowledge his odd attractions, especially since they were currently ransacking a dungeon with a priest and a psychopath. He focused his attention on searching the chest, and he was rewarded with a heavy coin purse, a stack of calfskin-bound journals, and a ruby the size of a robin's egg. He whistled.

Gerrit and Llewellyn are the dynamic opposite of Eliseo and Padgett. Gerrit is the less-privileged, more personable, "low class" character and Llewellyn is the high-born, fussier, sarcastic noble; however, in this story Gerrit is the voyeur character with the fetish and the POV window while Llewellyn is tortured for everyone's amusement. Narratively it's more fun and easier for me to describe the non-fetish-having character because I also like the power of the narrator to be that voyeuristic eye. Llewellyn gasped. "Hah- hahttsch-ow!"

I made myself laugh while writing this hahah "'Ow'?" Cordes appeared from behind a bookshelf, one arm wrapped tightly around a thick rug, the other reaching for his pack of salves. "What is it? Cut? Burn?" When Gerrit looked, their sorcerer was rubbing his nose with his left hand. "Bruise," Llewellyn said. He lifted his right hand, in which he held a blue crystal orb that was knotted inside a thin lattice of gold chain. "I got my hand caught." He'd apparently run the thing into his nose when trying to cover his sneeze. Llewellyn's thin face was already dusted pink from the embarrassment. Gerrit couldn't help but laugh. "Very graceful," he chuckled. "I will thank you for keeping it to yourself," Llewellyn replied, and that was elvish dialect for "fuck you." Gerrit laughed again.

Embarrassment is a huge part of my enjoyment of this kink because of the ensuing power dynamics. The victim is thrown into disequilibrium by something (snz) that is inherently seen as socially inappropriate, disgusting, or at least uncomfortable. Almost always their reaction is outsized to what it would probably be outside of a fet context (most people can sneeze in public without feeling shame - which is the typical mode, lol. It's a normal bodily function). However, then the other character, motivated by their BF's anxiety and potential humiliation is prompted to caretake and comfort them, "approve" of the "shameful" act, and deepen the intimacy of the couple. They can also enjoy the embarrassment and the act voyeuristically while feeling their own discomfort about watching, then deal with either having to divulge the kink or be found out by their partner later (because consent is the sexiest thing, really). But I love my characters and I'm not into hardcore stuff so much, so there are almost never any consequences of the "humiliation" - the characters do not get caught out, they do not get shamed by society, they do not actually lose face or have to explain their sexual preferences to anyone who should not know them.

Now you know way too much about my psychology but also the basic formula for any kink story I have written or will write in my entire life. Yay! Cordes had leaned over to see the orb better in the firelight. He was the only one among them whose vision was hindered by the dim light. "What kind of artifact is this?" he asked. "It doesn't resemble anything I've studied."

Lol humans don't have darkvision. "I'm not sure." Llewellyn held it up to the torch. The orb lit up like a lamp, but otherwise nothing happened. "Whatever this chain is, though, it's very prone to tangling." He tried to shake it off his wrist and failed. This was a task for both hands, and he set to freeing himself. And kept trying. And trying. Gerrit frowned. "What are you doing? Cordes, would you get that off of him?" "Sure." The priest reached out to help, but Llewellyn suddenly backed away out of reach. "Uh... I'm not trying to steal it, elf." "Oh, I would let you take it," Llewellyn said, scowling. "But I have a feeling we would be in for some trouble if you touch it now." He held up both hands. His palms were wrapped around the crystal and bound with the ball in that thin gold chain. "I am... I'm stuck."

---

"STUCK," hooted Remembrance again. She was crouched at the entrance to the dungeon - a root-cellar-like set of doors they'd found in a small bandit settlement - and hauling out a heavy pack stuffed with loot. In the daylight, she looked menacing and out of place, her horns, dusky maroon skin tone, and black eyes setting her apart from this land's primarily human residents. "And you even said not to touch any curses!"

Jump cuts are funny! I love this kind of thing, honestly. It's some of my favorite humor - that and dramatic irony, which is also often depicted in visual media with a funny jump cut. "I recall you said so as well," said Cordes, who looked exactly like a run-of-the-mill human resident except for the star-like scar on his left temple. He reached down and grabbed Gerrit's hand, steadying the half-elf as he climbed out of the hole. Llewellyn was hanging uncomfortably on Gerrit's back, arms looped around the other man's neck. They'd tried to find a more dignified way to get him out of the dungeon, but he couldn't manage the ladder well enough without the use of his hands. "The artifact didn't react to my detection spell," sniffed Llewellyn disdainfully, and Gerrit was quick to set him down before that sniffing could become another sneeze. He didn't want to blush in front of the others.

Blushing is very appealing to me, so everyone blushes all of the time. "There must be someone in Veigh who can help you," Gerrit said. "We'll just swing by on our way to the capitol." The city was three days out of their way, but they couldn't have Llewellyn stuck this way for the two week trip back to their patron. With his hands bound, he couldn't cast any spells that required him to gesture, and that was almost all of them. He'd effectively rendered himself completely useless in combat. Veigh had a chapter of the Mages Guild in residence, though, and if no one there could help, they might at least be able to send Llewellyn on ahead via a transportation spell.

Let's go on a short tangent about names. Usually I name my characters using Babynames.com or similar sites and I pick based on the look, sound, and meaning of the names. For this little group, things were slightly more haphazard. Llewellyn is a Welsh name meaning "leader." I just happen to like this name already, but it also has a visual beauty and difficulty to pronounce on sight that lent it well to an elf character without me having to look up specifically elven names. When I make elf characters in D&D, I tend to give them a nickname or alias that is easy to remember and pronounce so that the name isn't a hindrance while playing the game.

Gerrit's name was picked based on sound. It is similar to the Welsh name Gareth ("spear ruler"), which is on purpose, but it was altered to make it a bit more fantastical/removed. It's appropriate for a fighter in meaning but also suits his more familiar/pedestrian half-elven experience vs. that of a noble elf.

Cordes was given a short name because he is a no-nonsense human, but I chose it to resemble that of conquistador Hernan Cortes because of the "holy invasion" and "treasure hunter" associations. Remembrance is named using the PHB's suggestion that tieflings often pick "ideal" names for themselves, and she has a complicated past (like most tieflings). "I will hope there is." Llewellyn looked pale and worn, though his fine features still exuded the otherworldly beauty of the high elves. His hair was a silky black, although mostly covered by his hood, and the contrast made his silver eyes look even more curious. He fumbled for a minute at his waist before scowling heavily. "I can't get into any of my bags, of course..." "What do you need?" asked Gerrit. Remembrance had started off through the trees, humming, her bulging pack swaying with her sinuous movements. Gerrit really didn't want to let her get too far ahead, not least because she was scary good at concealing herself in the foliage and might slip the party completely. However, Cordes was with her, and Llewellyn couldn't exactly fend for himself right now. "My handkerchief..." The elf's voice had gone wavery again, and Gerrit watched as his nostrils flared. Fuck.

Oho! Here is the plot and the kink conceit. Gerrit hurriedly patted his pockets until he produced his own handkerchief, or what he bothered with when necessary. It was a large square of flannel, rough around the edges. It wasn't embroidered or monogrammed like Llewellyn's, but he figured by now the flannel was a hell of a lot cleaner, and it was soft for an irritated nose. "Here, take mine."

Characters' belongings are also a good way to contrast their situations and personalities. I don't consider handkerchiefs particularly vital to my enjoyment of this kink, but they are a useful visual and I like to describe things. Small details like this are how you can worldbuild without having to do too much extra research. Llewellyn held out his hands plus the orb for it, breath hitching, but no matter how Gerrit tried to drape the cloth, it kept slipping off of the artifact. He supposed he could try to tie it around the-

This is just so funny to me XD Llewellyn made a desperate sound and tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. His breath was coming in soft pants now. And he was raising the orb reflexively. Gerrit couldn't let him whack himself in the face again, so he did the only other thing he could think of. With one hand he reached out and took Llewellyn by the shoulder. With the other, he lifted the handkerchief and pressed it over the elf's nose. His fingers settled firmly on either side of Llewellyn's nostrils, and none too soon. After another half-hitch, Llewellyn ducked forward again with a quiet but insistent sneeze. "Happtsch!

One of the most pleasing sneeze sounds, tbh. Gerrit was sure he was beet red. “Bless you,” he mumbled. Through the cloth, Llewelyn’s nose felt hot, and any gentle pressure resulted in a bit of a squish. “Let me just…” "Whh- wait-" Llewellyn leaned into the handkerchief. "I'm nh- I'm not done hhH-" His eyes slipped shut and he gasped again. Gerrit swallowed and tried to ignore the tenting of his breeches. "R-roger that." He could feel Llewellyn's nostrils twitching against his fingers. "Hh...Haah- Hapttschuh! Snrk... Aptschiu!" His body rocked, and he took a half-step forward. Gerrit could hear the thick sound of congestion in the elf's nose as he tried to stave off another sneeze.

The desperation, talking through the sneezing, and congestion are all vital parts of this scenario. Unavoidable embarrassment + disgust factor + need for caretaking/mitigation. "Blow your nose," he said. "It will help." Llewellyn hesitated, but in the end, he had to comply. There was nowhere for the mucus to go except out. He started to blow with a gurgle.

I used to be really against mess, but the taboo/disgust part of the brain turns off psychologically a LOT during arousal and now I really do not find snz interesting without it. Snz without mess isn't embarrassing enough or visually exciting. Gerrit moved the hand from his shoulder to start rubbing Llewellyn's back. The handkerchief and his fingers were rapidly growing damp, but he really didn't mind. "There you go." He held the handkerchief to Llewellyn's nose until the elf moved back on his own. His nose was red and tender looking, and his cheeks were flushed rosy. He didn't seem to want to meet Gerrit's eyes. Gerrit didn't mention it. He didn't really want to look at Llewellyn either right now. It had been a while since the elf had looked so very fuckable.

Potentially due to my propensity to write fanfic about established ships, all of my OCs apparently have a history or mutual attraction out of the gate. On one hand, it's difficult just mechanically to write a scenario about a romantic or sexual encounter without there being chemistry and an excuse for them to already want to rub bits (obviously), especially in short stories, but I also cannot stand the thin veneer of situational causality that underlies porn (to borrow from Cards Against Humanity). If I can't care about my characters' lives outside of the one random fetish scenario, I can't care enough to write about them at all. He put the handkerchief in an easily-accessible outside pocket of his vest. "Ready to go?" Llewellyn coughed lightly. "Yes." "Excellent." Gerrit gestured for Llewellyn to precede him, and the two of them headed out through the trees, following the sounds of Cordes negotiating the underbrush and swearing about it. --- Travel proved easy enough once they made it to the road. They were fortunate not to meet anyone else along the way. The party could handle a group of bandits without their sorcerer, but they had their treasure to worry about, and Remembrance always drew stares, and sometimes aggression, even from normal travelers. Gerrit thought her skills more than made up for the extra negative attention they drew. And anyway, Remembrance was crazy but she wasn't evil. She did better out on the road than in town, but that was probably true of all of them. Llewellyn kept up with her pace, but it was clearly a struggle. He was usually fairly quiet, but he didn't speak at all as they walked, focusing on breathing and not devolving into coughing or more sneezing. There were a few times when Gerrit hastily reached into his pocket, at the ready, but Llewellyn fought back the itch with admirable determination. He kept his nose from running by sniffling heavily, which sounded somewhere between awful and revolting. Cordes commented on it multiple times with disgust, but nothing could be done. Llewellyn held his tongue, and Gerrit was reluctant in this case to offer the handkerchief without being asked.

Cordes is here providing the societal reaction and voice of reason lol, but there still aren't any consequences or shaming from them. I just imagine how fricking uncomfortable it would be if people acknowledged this porn scenario happening in-world and so that is never part of the story development. They found a place to camp about half an hour outside the small village of Tewks. Remembrance cleared out some brush to make a flat area for the bedrolls and then promptly decided she'd rather sleep in a tree with everything she owned. She found a good, solid oak a few yards from the camp and ensconced herself in the crux of its branches. She had a good view of the road in either direction and volunteered to take the second watch in the middle of the night, which was her favorite time. Gerrit agreed to take the first watch as Cordes started to set up his tent. The priest refused to sleep on the ground and always took an extra fifteen minutes to erect a curious one-person canvas canopy. It wasn't even large enough to sit up inside, but whatever. The priest never asked anyone else to haul it along, so Gerrit wouldn't complain.

Remembrance and Cordes are thus handwaved away from the sexual center of the plot and they will neither see nor hear anything they aren't invited to. These arrangements left him and Llewellyn alone together on one side of the fire, and he supposed that was preferable during the orb situation anyway. Llewellyn couldn't handle his own bedroll, help with the fire, or unpack any of their supplies. Gerrit realized he would probably have to help the elf eat, too. And... Well, when he noticed Llewellyn fidgeting uncomfortably, Gerrit took him out into a thicker copse to see to his other needs. They didn't talk about it... Llewellyn could hardly undo his own buttons, though, and it wasn't the first time Gerrit had taken over.

I am very into watersports, so it creeps in, although I don't think there's a friendly community out there for that like there is for snz, so I haven't developed any kind of presence for it. It appeals to me for pretty much all of the same reasons as described above. Maybe someday I will start writing those kinds of stories on this account as well, but I don't know if they would find an audience, so maybe not. By the time the fire was hot enough to cook over, Llewellyn had tucked himself up to sit on a tree stump, exuding an aura of furious self-reproach. Cordes took some jerky into his tiny tent with him - for some reason. Gerrit made up two bowls of pottage and sat himself on the ground at the roots of the stump. He put one bowl on the ground for himself and then held up the other. "Hungry?" "Not particularly," Llewellyn replied, voice blunted with congestion. He coughed. "But you're going to make me eat something, aren't you." "I'd prefer you do it willingly." Gerrit tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. "Come on. It's hot. You'll feel better." Llewellyn growled in a manner more suited to orcs than elves. "I feel like an invalid." Gerrit sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, we can pretend you lost your arms in an owlbear attack very tragically." He could feel Llewellyn's fiery glare on him and smiled a little. "Look, we've all done stupid things while adventuring. I'm sure you remember when I tripped and knocked myself out on that knight's shield during the tournament." "I remember," replied the elf, begrudgingly. "Besides, you're sick on top of the whole orb thing. Maybe your detection spell wasn't sensitive enough. Maybe the thing's not even cursed! Maybe it's supposed to do this, and we just don't know why." "I have a hard time believing that. What possible purpose could this serve?"

Porn! Gerrit shrugged. "Don't ask me. Dad says my mother was a druid, but I haven't got a magical bone in my body." He tilted his head. "We could always try smashing it?" Llewellyn's rejection was forceful. "Do you want to explode?!" Gerrit chuckled. "Not really." Llewellyn sighed. Gerrit held out a spoonful of pottage. Feeding both Llewellyn and himself was a bit difficult, but Gerrit did well enough when he could alternate. It would be better if he could use both hands equally like Cordes, but he couldn't, and so he didn't. He just thought about it wistfully as he worked. Llewellyn ended up eating most of his bowl, then went back to sitting quietly and sniffling. Gerrit finished the rest and put the utensils aside to deal with later. And... Even though Llewellyn hadn't asked, he drew out his handkerchief again.

More caretaking, more intimacy. Gerrit is a kind and loving person even though he's a fighter by trade. "Hey," he began, trying not to sound awkward. "You wanna blow your nose?" No one else was paying attention and Llewellyn didn't need to inhale any more of that crap. The elf gave him a shitty side-eye. "Come on," said Gerrit. "Don't be like this." He patted the ground in front of him encouragingly as if Llewellyn was a recalcitrant cat. "I'm fine," said Llewellyn, and then betrayed himself with a quick breath. "Hah--" "Come on," Gerrit repeated, "before you make a mess."

He is also pretty comfortable talking about a lot of things that people with the fetish have generally admitted difficulty acknowledging. This is because even though he's the one with the fetish in this, he is also the "Padgett" character and practical and not caught up in the anxiety prison. Llewellyn came down off the stump to sit in front of him, legs tucked underneath, and rested the orb on Gerrit's thigh to balance himself. His eyes were pinched with reluctance, but Gerrit could see that the elf's nostrils were already damp. "Hah- hh- hurry," Llewellyn gasped.

People should sit in each other's laps. It's good. Again, Gerrit reached out with the handkerchief, enfolding his companion's nose. He could feel Llewellyn's breath fluttering against his hand through the fabric and hear quite clearly how it kept catching on congestion. "Hah-hngk- Hahgkttscht!" Llewellyn ducked forward with the force of it and Gerrit steadied him with a hand on his hip. "Ngkttsch! Hnggktxch!!"

The sneezes now involve nasal consonants because of congestion. Sometimes people tend to have a certain way their sneezes always sound, and I try to maintain that, but these details are important to show a change in the severity of the cold (and evidence of sniffling for hours). Gerrit bit his lip sharply to keep from saying anything, but his body was singing with arousal. Llewellyn hiccupped a short gasp and Gerrit pulled the handkerchief away to present a clean corner. The current spot had become soaked and silvery. "Bless," he managed after a moment, and he carefully readjusted the cloth. "Are you going to sneeze again?"

Hiccupping is also sexy and cute. Also I spelled that wrong in the original, gdi... Llewellyn nodded, eyes teary with the effort of the first bunch. Gerrit wasn't surprised; the elf had been holding back since they left the dungeon. He couldn't imagine it had been comfortable, but Llewellyn had his pride. He never would let Gerrit give him love bites either. Annnd Gerrit was going to have to stop thinking about that. "Haptsch!" Easier said than done. Really. But Llewellyn's comfort came first.

Voyeur with a heart of gold. "Hahkptsch!" The sorcerer groaned softly. "Hah- hh- Hgnaptscxhx!" Gerrit did his best to assist Llewellyn through the fit. He kept the handkerchief secure, moving it when necessary to keep it dry enough. He steadied the elf when the sneezes bent his body or when he felt faint from lack of breath. He even massaged Llewellyn's nose for him when he was trying to blow it and the congestion was stubbornly refusing to move. By the time he felt finished enough to lean back, Llewellyn was flushed and light-headed, swaying where he sat. Gerrit was sweating and needed a towel. "........Thanks," murmured Llewellyn, eventually.

Sometimes kink authors tend to just write out like twenty sneezes in a row and I hate that, honestly. (No shade - I don't even have an example in mind because I don't read a lot of stories anymore and everyone has their preferences.) I just think that the kink should support the storyline and not the other way around. The story should be enjoyable and sexy but have a narrative structure and coherent rising and falling action. Even if a fit is a sexy scenario (it is), trying to make your eyeballs power through a repetitive series of nonsense syllables is counterproductive and takes the reader out of the story and into the realm of annoyance, which disrupts arousal as well. "Yeah," said Gerrit. "Sure." He swallowed. "Let's wash up." He helped Llewellyn to his feet and they went a little way to a creek (generously; it was little more than a ditch through the woods). Gerrit gently washed Llewellyn's face, careful of his tender eyes and nose, and sent him back to camp to lay down for the night. He lingered at the water's edge to wash the handkerchief and, well, to take other matters in hand.

If ya know what I mean. Llewellyn was completely out when he returned, and Gerrit was grateful. He smoothed the elf's bangs back and then settled beside the fire to take watch. The woods in the dark were full of the sounds of insects and small animals moving in the undergrowth. And Llewellyn snoring and sniffling in his sleep. Safe sounds. Gerrit rested his chin on his hand and looked toward the road. Damn orb. It was going to be a long way to Veigh.

And this was getting long, so this is where I cut it to make part 2, which I will also commentate in a bit (hopefully after a nap =___=). Thanks!

[natashxromanovf]

So since I take requests, I'm gonna list some basic things and fandoms I write for.

Fandoms I write for:

》 Marvel (only platonic fics for Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Dr. Strange and Bruce Banner)

》 Harry Potter (mostly marauders era characters but i write for an occasional lightning era character as well)

》 Outer Banks (JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera)

》 Teen Wolf (liam dunbar, lydia martin, theo rarken and stiles stilinski)

》 Criminal minds (spencer reid, derek morgan, jennifer jareau and aaron hotchner)

》 Shadow and bone

》 Hawaii five-0 (steve mcgarett, danny williams, kono kalakaua, chin ho kelly, tani rey, junior reigns)

》 Currently most inspired for: james potter, nikolai lantsov, kaz brekker, jesper fahey

If you're not sure for which characters I write, you can always send me an ask <3

Basic things:

- I write blurbs (100-500 words), drabbles (500-900 words) and one-shots (900-2500+ words)

- I can write platonic and romantic relationships!!

- I don't write headcanons because I don't really like them.

- I don't write smut, so please no smut, thank you

- Do I have a prompt list? Yes, I do, you can find it here

- your request may take some time, but I'll try and write it as soon as I can (update: all requests take a lot of time)

- please specify the pronouns in your requests. They can be they/them or she/her. If you don't mention it, I'll write it as gender neutral reader.

- I don't write about break ups and drugs

- you can request a song fic

- you’re welcome to send an ask to check if i’ve received your request; tumblr is awful with eating asks, just please don’t rush me!

[bgharison]

Nincompoop -- an H50 Fix-it coda 10.22

Prompt from @rijariz

So I really want Danny to say "I told you not to make me come looking for you, you stubborn Ass. But before we go back I have some conditions. No exes, no mysteries, and no more 3 letter agencies please!!!"

Thanks for the prompt!!  This was written kind of quickly, un-beta’d, and I might polish it later, but I hope it does service to your wonderful idea.  I ended up splitting up Danny’s dialogue, but I think it worked.  :-)  

***

“Danny,” Steve sighed, closing his eyes and gripping the phone tight.  “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“I almost didn’t answer; I didn’t recognize this number,” Danny said.  “Not that I mind -- texting is fun and all, but yeah, it’s . . . it’s good to hear your voice, too.  This your new number?  The team will want --”

“I’m calling from a payphone.  It’s -- “ he stopped.  “I started thinking, maybe I shouldn’t keep in touch.”

Danny was silent.  Steve could feel the hurt and betrayal from thousands of miles away.

“We still don’t know if the threat is over, there could be more . . . I can’t do this, Danny, I can’t keep putting people I love in danger.”

“Steven.  Don’t do this.  You plunge yourself into that hole of guilt . . . you go too deep, there’s no coming back.”

Now Steve fell silent.  He had promised to come back, but maybe it was safer if he didn’t.

“Steve?  Steven!”

“I love you, Danny.  Take good care of Eddie for me.”  He hung up the phone before he could change his mind; before his emotions betrayed him.

Danny slowly thumbed the call off his phone screen, then pulled up another contact and pressed call.

“Yeah, Catherine?  I’m gonna need Steve’s location.  It’s time to bring our boy home.”

*******

Danny pulled the scarf up around his neck, hunched against the wind and a few determined pellets of freezing rain, as he made his way to the rental car building.  The inconveniences of flying in to a small airport, he supposed.  

The Jeep he’d requested was fueled up and ready for him.  He tossed his bag into the passenger seat as he climbed in, wincing a bit.  He hadn’t been back to driving for very long, and the flight had already stiffened his healing muscles.  At least the bruising was completely gone.  It had been weeks before Tani could look at him without tears.  

The freezing rain quickly gave over to snow, making the drive even more peaceful.  He thought nothing of the conditions.  Montana snow was still easier than Jersey ice.  

He wasn’t surprised to see Steve on the porch as he pulled up to Joe’s ranch.  He wondered if there was ever -- would ever -- be a time that Steve wasn’t hyper-aware of his surroundings.  He wondered the same for himself, now, as he pulled himself carefully, stiffly, out of the driver’s seat. 

"I told you not to make me come looking for you, you stubborn ass."

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d look for me here,” Steve said, pulling a blanket tighter around his shoulders.  

“Yeah, for someone who needed to get away from memories . . . you picked a weird place for that,” Danny said.  He studied Steve, taking in his appearance.  His cheeks looked a bit pinched under  his thick, soft beard, but his beard was trimmed, his eyes clear.  Danny had seen worse.  He snorted as he took in Steve’s bare feet.

“Must be slipping if you could track me,” Steve said.  “Or was it a lucky guess?”

“You gonna let me come in, or you gonna get frostbite on your toes?”

Steve smiled at him then, genuine and full of affection.  Danny felt relief wash over him.  

“Get in here, Danno.”  Steve held his arms open, and in a few steps, Danny felt himself wrapped tight, cocooned with Steve in the warmth of the blanket.

******

“I can’t believe you low-jacked me,” Steve said, but he was grinning.  

“Catherine said she’d tag the one thing you’d never ditch.”

“My Sig?”

“The picture of Grace and Charlie, actually,” Danny said.  He raised his eyes to look into Steve’s.

Steve’s breath caught.  “I love them.  That’s why I can’t come back, Danny.  She knew, she knew exactly how to get to me, how to hurt me the most -- I almost lost you.  What if it’s not over?  Hell, what if someone else I took down decides to come after me?  What if they go after the kids?”  He stood up abruptly and walked to the fireplace.  Resting his hand on the mantel, he turned his back to Danny.

Steve flinched when Danny rested a hand on his back.  “Turn around and look at me,” Danny said softly.

Steve turned, reluctantly, and even with his head ducked down, Danny could see tears threatening to well over.

“Steve.  You remember the last time I got shot?  Did that have anything to do with you?”

Steve shook his head.

“No.  That was one of my old cases.  That guy could have decided to go after the kids.  Thank God he didn’t.  But Petterson did, remember?  He took Gracie.  You’re not the only one who’s made enemies in their line of work, Steven.  I have, too.  Your dad did.  Your mom.  And Joe.  But you have something they didn’t, Steve, you have a family.  An ohana.  You taught me that -- you gave me that.  And now, instead of turning to that family for comfort -- comfort we all needed -- you ran.”

“I’m exhausted, Danny, like never before.  I thought, getting away, getting some space, would . . . and then I almost lost you, because of a vendetta against me and I thought -- I wanted to get as far away as I could, before anyone else got hurt.  I didn’t want to risk hurting the team any more by staying.”

“You hurt us by leaving,” Danny said softly.  “You hurt me, leaving.”

“Danny, I’m so sorry,” Steve said.  “I should have been there for you.”

“Did leaving help?  Has some space and distance helped you, Steve?”

Steve shook his head, the tears finally spilling over.  “No,” he rasped.  “God, no.”

Danny pulled him into his arms, Steve tucking his face into his uninjured shoulder.  Danny could feel a few hot tears splash onto his neck.

“You needed a vacation and instead chose an exile,” Danny said, rubbing Steve’s back.  “Nincompoop.”

Steve chuckled and held Danny tighter.

“I’m pretty sure we’re both exhausted,” Danny said.  “Come on, let’s get some rest.  Then we’ll talk.”

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to follow Steve down the hall and into the bedroom he was using.  Steve shucked off his jeans and pulled on a pair of soft, faded flannel pants.

“My bag’s still in the Jeep,” Danny said, but he was already unbuttoning his jeans and flannel shirt.  Steve reached into a drawer and pulled out a similar pair of flannel pants and tossed them to Danny.  It was easy enough for him to shed his jeans, but he winced as he tried to ease his arms out of his shirt.

“Let me help,” Steve murmured.  He gently, carefully slipped the shirt off Danny’s broad shoulders and tossed it aside.  His fingers traced carefully over Danny’s black t-shirt, where he knew the bullet wound was, feeling the small bandage still present.  “It’s healing?”

“Yeah, Steve.  It’s healing just fine.”  Danny pulled on the flannel pants, shooting a glare at Steve’s smirk when he rolled the hem up.  “Shut up and gimme some socks, would’ja?”

The bed was soft, the fluffy quilts just the right weight, and Steve’s shoulder the perfect fit.  This was different than sharing the bed in DC.  There was no hesitancy, no caution.  DC had been about efficiency and Steve’s raw anguish.  This . . . this was mutual exhaustion and mutual comfort. 

“I shouldn’t have left,” Steve said, rubbing his fingers absently over Danny’s bicep.  “You were already living in my house, this should have happened a while ago.”

“Well.  Technically, nothing’s happened yet,” Danny said.  He thought they were on the same page, done with fighting this thing between them, but what if --

His thought was cut off by Steve leaning up and over, pressing his lips to Danny’s in a soft, sweet, lingering kiss.

“There.  Now, technically something has happened.”

“Can I hope for more to happen?” Danny asked.  He couldn’t keep the grin off his face if he tried, but Steve looked solemn.

“If you can forgive me,” he said quietly.  “And if you can’t, I’ll understand.”

“Goof,” Danny said, wrapping his hand around the back of Steve’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss, one that was not quite as soft, or sweet.  “Steve.  I do forgive you.  Yeah, it hurt but . . . I know you were trying to do what  you needed to do, to protect us.  But next time, listen, hunh?  When you get wrapped up inside your head and feel like you need to run, listen when I ask you to stay, yeah?”

*****

Danny woke slowly, the smell of coffee and bacon drifting in from the kitchen.  He sat up in bed, stretching out his stiff shoulder, and stopped in surprise at the sight of Steve’s bag, open and mostly packed at the end of the bed.  He slipped out of bed and padded toward the kitchen, careful not to trip on the too-long pajama pants.

“Babe?”

Steve grinned and poured a second mug of coffee, holding it out to Danny.

Danny accepted it and took a grateful sip.  “Your bag is almost packed.”

“Good work, detective.”

“You thinking of running away some more?”

“Thinking of running home,” Steve said slowly. “With you.  For good -- no running; not me, not you.”

Danny pretended to think it over. “Okay.  But before we go back I have some conditions.”

“Okay,” Steve said cautiously.

“No exes, no mysteries and no more 3 letter agencies please!!!"

“Danny, you have to know, Catherine wasn’t --” Steve started earnestly.

Danny held up a hand to interrupt him.  “Babe, I know.  I, ah, might have been the one to suggest Catherine get you through the first leg of your little expedition.  She told me, it’s not that way between the two of you . . . explained it when we were talking about putting that locator on you.  I don’t just mean Catherine.  No more Lyns, or Ambers, or Brookes . . . no more half-assed attempts to convince ourselves that there’s anyone else for us but each other.”

Steve nodded enthusiastically.

“And for the love of God, Steven -- I don’t care who comes with an envelope or a message from the beyond -- no more.  Stop letting your past hurt you.  You’re not responsible for the choices of your parents.  You don’t owe them anything.  You don’t owe the CIA or the NSA or any other alphabet a damn thing.”  Danny didn’t try to keep the anger out of his voice.

“The Navy?” Steve asked quietly.

Danny heart skipped a beat.  “You’d give it up?”

“For you.”

“Babe.  Asking you not to love the Navy, to cut yourself off from your fellow sailors . . . God, your brothers . . . no.  No way.  But no crazy stunts!  No more jumping in with Junior on crazy missions!”

“I’ll ask you first, I promise,” Steve said, grinning.

“Ask -- first --  no, no, Steven, that is not --”  Danny stopped, narrowing his eyes at Steve.  “You’re joking.”

Steve shrugged.  “Mostly.”  He turned back to the stove and cracked some eggs into a skillet.

“So?”  Danny asked.  Steve looked back at him over his shoulder.

“So, what?”

“So, do you agree to my conditions?”

“Yes, Danny,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.  “Yes, I agree to your terms, I accept your conditions, nag, nag -- here.  Eat your breakfast.  We need to get to the airport, catch the next plane out.”

Danny took a bite of perfect scrambled eggs and moaned softly.  Steve raised his eyebrows and gave him a heated glance.

“I never even got my bag out of the car,” Danny said.

“Well, that’s gonna make packing real easy for you, buddy.”

“Or . . . you did, at one point, want to get away.  Get some space.  Clear your head.”  Danny gestured around the ranch house, the wide porch, and the peaceful scenery around them.  “You could still do that.”

Steve put his plate down across from Danny’s with a thunk.  “I thought you wanted me to come home.”

“Oh, I do.  Absolutely.  But . . . we’re here already.  We both could use some time away, some time to rest, and heal . . . together.  Don’t you think?”

Steve nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that sounds nice, Danny.”

Danny grinned back at him.  “And, you know, we can see if . . . maybe that something more we mentioned will happen.”

Steve stood up quickly.

“Ste -- where you going?” Danny waved his fork at Steve’s still full plate.

“I’m getting your bag out of the car and calling Catherine to say thank you,” Steve said.

“Nincompoop!” Danny called after him.

“Your nincompoop,” Steve yelled back over his shoulder.

Danny shook his head in resignation.  Steve still didn’t have socks on.