#twc prompts

[smittenbypoetry]

Poetry Game!

November 2024 Edition:

The rules are as follows: write an eleven line poem. Each respective line includes, but, unless stated, is not limited to the following in order:

Motion

Pertains to 'talking'

Something you find in the sky

Free line, use however you like

The word: energy

Reference a part of your morning routine

The word: orbit

Consists of one word only

Must start with: And we all

Must start with: Because

Repeat what you wrote after 'Because' in line 10

Have fun!

---

Tag your poem #smittenbypoetrygame, and I will reblog it here. Be sure to use one of the first five tags to do this, else there’s a chance it won’t show up when I search for it. If I haven’t reblogged your poem within 24 hours, please send me a message and I’ll add it to the queue.

[itsmistyeyedbi]

of plants and dresses

Pairing: F!Detective/Farah Hauville

Word Count: 1,4k

Prompt: Fix (and Fall)

Warnings: There's nsft content in the last half of this. Nothing crazy I think, but it's there.

Tags: @happyhauvillebday

Summary: One of Zuri’s plant pots fell somehow, and Farah decided to fix it. This is nsft so minors dni!

Zuri’s apartment is full of plants.

Seriously, they're everywhere.

Farah remembers the first time she saw it. After Zuri found out about the supernatural world and the truth about Murphy, Unit Bravo were put on watch duty.

They spent ages squished into her tiny, silver hatchback with her and Nate sitting up front, giggling at her fighting for space in the back with Adam and Morgan. And once they were free of that hell, they went up two floors, took a left and spent a good minute going back and forth over house rules while Zuri psyched herself up to open the door.

When she finally did it was nothing but greenery.

They lined the windowsills, sat on counters and tables and her bookshelf, hung off the walls and ceiling. They're in the kitchen, the living room, her bedroom, her bathroom. One day Farah asked for a tour and got to learn some of their names. She even got to name some of the new ones!

Humans love to talk about the afterlife. If there’s one for plants, Zuri’s apartment was it.

She just needs to… rethink where she puts some of them. Or the type of pots she puts them in at least.

Farah is in the living room, sitting cross legged on the floor and staring at the pieces of an orange, ceramic plant pot on the coffee table. They are glinting in the light from the lamp she turned on - she doesn't need it to see better but it doesn't hurt to be extra careful.

The pieces have been cleaned and I did a test run on what Frankensteining them together will be like. Now to glue.

Nate glances over the top of his book, eyeing the super glue in her hands from his seat on the couch. “Perhaps you should put more newspaper underneath the pot. Just in case.”

“No way! What if it gets stuck on it? I won't be able to rinse it off, it'll ruin it. Besides, you,” she narrows her eyes at him and purses her lips, “are supposed to be reading and not hovering over me.”

“I'm not hovering, I just-”

“Don't worry, Natey, I won't mess up your precious, antique coffee table. Now shush, I wanna have this done before she gets here.”

She turns her attention back to the task at hand, ignoring Nate's sigh and waiting for him to turn a page before taking off the lid of the tube in her hand.

She reaches for the biggest piece, turns it delicately in her hand. She can do this, she knows she can do it. There aren't that many pieces. She just needs to take it nice and slow. With a deep breath she squeezes the tube and applies the glue on the jagged edge; she puts it down, picks up the piece that aligns with and holds them together for a few seconds.

And that's it.

Well then.

That was easier than expected. She didn't even realise she stopped breathing.

It's fixed in less than an hour. Nothing broke, nothing got stuck to things it shouldn't and she managed to add a little pizzazz to it too. After a final inspection, she stands over the ceramic pot and dusts off her hands.

“Done at last,” she grins and puts her hands on her hips. She looks over at Nate and bends at the waist to catch his eye. “And your table survived. It got a little decorated, but survived.”

Thud.

Huh. That's the fastest she's seen him close a book.

“Excuse me!?” Nate puts the book down beside him with some force and stands up to make his way to the table. “Decorated? Why would you do- oh.”

He gives her a deadpan look. Farah laughs and nudges him with her elbow.

“Come on, you've gotta have more faith in me than that. I've just gotta remove the newspapers and it'll be squeaky clean.”

He huffs and shakes his head before looking at the plant pot. He tilts his head a bit, smiling softly while nodding in approval, “It looks good. The stitching detail you added makes the cracks look intentional.”

“I know, right? I really hope she likes it.”

Their heads swivel towards the direction of the entrance as their ears catch the sound of Zuri’s car slowing to a stop outside the warehouse. A thrill of excitement runs through her. Just in time.

Nate returns to his seat, leaning back with his book in hand as he raises a brow and asks the questions she's been trying her best to prevent him from asking. “How did it break, anyway? Did something happen?”

“Oh, well, something would have to happen for it to fall over wouldn't it? It wouldn't fall by itself,” her voice pitches up as she speaks and she takes a few, frantic steps away from the coffee table. She laughs sheepishly and rubs the back of her neck with her hand. “So yeah, something happened. Obviously, but it wasn't bad…”

-

“Keep this on.”

Farah shudders as Zuri whispers in her ear, brushing her lips against it before sucking gently. The hands on her waist trail down to her hips, gripping them tightly and pulling her in, keeping them firmly against hers.

Farah can barely remember how they got here, the events of the day are all lost in a haze. She can vaguely recall going shopping and sending Zuri pictures of herself in a new sundress, some of them were steamy… It hardly matters now. All she wants to do right now is to get as close to her as possible. She wants her kisses, her hands, her.

She wants her. And she wants her to show her just how much she appreciates those pictures.

Farah lets out a breathless laugh and cups the base of her head. “I don't think I'll ever take it off with you reacting to it like this.”

“Oh, I'd like it off at some point,” Zuri walks her backwards until the back of her knees hit the window seat, her nose brushing against her skin as she slowly moves down to the place her neck meets her shoulder. Her lips tickle her skin while she speaks. “It's gorgeous, especially on you, but I don't think I could stand having anything between us for long.”

“Then you'll have to make the most of me wearing it now.”

“I plan to.”

She slowly coaxes her to sit down. Farah keeps her arms around her to pull her down with her. She doesn't want anything between them either. But the dress can stay for now, it's just thin enough for it to not really be in the way. Zuri’s touch is just as effective at turning her into a puddle with it on.

Her feet are off the floor the moment her ass touches the seat. She spreads her legs and just as she goes to wrap them around Zuri, her knee knocks into something and-

Crash.

From the wall to the seat to the floor, a potted plant falls.

They freeze, eyes darting from the broken plant pot to each other. Shit, she didn't mean to do that. Aren't those plants usually mounted higher up on the wall? She swears it wasn't there before. Farah braces herself for some kind of scolding or an expression of disappointment, but instead-

Zuri’s shoulders shake with laughter she's trying to keep in, and then her face scrunches up and she wheezes.

Farah must make a funny face at that because she bursts into laughter, and she can't help but join her. Zuri rests her forehead against hers, braids falling onto Farah's chest. She lets her laughter peter out and watches her with a grin. She's always thought Zuri was beautiful but she always manages to stun her into silence in moments like this, where she's laughing and smiling and happy, genuinely happy. And she'll never get over the fact that she's the reason she is.

Eventually her laughter stops and Farah takes the opportunity to say something. “Sheesh. I forget how flexible I am sometimes. Sorry, babe.”

“Don't worry about it,” Zuri giggles, shaking her head and cupping Farah's face. “That's hardly something to apologise for. And it's not too bad, I can fix it later.”

“Or you could leave that to me.”

“Hmm?”

Farah shrugs, wrapping her legs around her and putting her hands on her back. “I could fix it for you. Like you said, it's not too bad.”

“That's sweet, but you don't have to.”

“I know, but I want to.”

Zuri strokes her cheeks with her thumbs, pursing her lips in thought before smiling at her with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Okay. But you'll have to let me show you how thankful I am for that at some point, in whatever way you want.”

“Deal.”

[gauntlings]

tagged by the gracious @serenpedac in a fun little blurb!

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

book 4 demo has me in shambles so naturally i've been needing to write something viscerally horny to make up for the angst

not sure who hasn't already been tagged at this point but i'll tag @eviebofficial & @masonspecialist for fun :)

Kira presses her palm flat against Adam's chest. Firm, but willing to fall away if she met resistance – if he pulled away. 

He doesn’t. 

It’s not for lack of consideration. She sees it pass behind his eyes briefly. The soft agony; the rage of conflict. But there is something else. Something, Kira thinks, Adam is usually better at hiding.

She’s seen the expression many times before, but it was different then. The most accurate description she could think to call it had been provided by Tina of all people. Yearning, she had named it. After all their time together, she could confidently say she knew the beautiful contours of his features well. The tension of his concern, the reflexive instinct to shield his desire from her lest he confuse them for duty. It was a look that would normally crease in small lines around his eyes. It always created such a tortuous expression just above his roman nose. Kira always fought the urge to reach out, to brush it away with her lips. To allow his own to angle conveniently towards the hollow of her throat while she did… 

But there was something else this time. A guilt-ridden hunger that Kira can sense like a wounded animal. She feels a surge of heat at how badly she wants to lick those wounds. How hungry she felt. How she wanted to taste him. Maybe she was the one with the real appetite between them. His eyes don’t leave her like they should have. He holds her gaze. Perhaps it is intentional, or he is just as unable to move away from her as she is from him. Perhaps, for once, it is the look she gives him that anchors him before her. There, her breath hitches. Finally she sees it, burning back at her through clear green eyes. 

Lust.

[env0writes]

NaPoWriMo Vol. 3, 4.12.24 “Tall Tales"

He’s six foot and charming And does what he’s asked He’ll say please and thank you And he’ll do what is tasked To the music, he’s dancing Sanctimoniously Effortlessly romancing Unintentionally He’s uncertain with his sanity And isn’t sure if he’s real He’s doing what he can Which is everything; what’s his deal? To the moonrise he is staring Filled with gumption Filled with caring Constant are his thoughts, cautious in assumption He’s the author and writer and hides behinds words Sending out calls to the morning; he’s brained with the birds

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!   Photo by my friend Mika

[delucadarling]

Hi! From the prompts, 'reaching out with their hand without saying anything, wanting the other one to grab it' for Barbie and Ava? If it works better for a different pairing, that's fine too, of course. I hope you'll have fun writing

(also, I am *thinking* about the ask you sent! It's such a good one)

Oho okay this is actually very very fun for me, because I love playing Barbie as having no goddamn clue she's attracted to women AND men. She doesn't recognize her attraction to women as attraction, she just assumes she wants to be Very Good Friends with women she's interested in.

Meanwhile, Ava gets hit by that love at first sight shit and doesn't know how to deal with the woman she's in love with...being entirely fucking oblivious. It should make things easier. Should :3b

(book 3 spoilers ahoy)

***

The sun is barely peering through the trees as the SUV pulls back in front of the warehouse. Everyone is dead silent, whether lost in thought or just tired from a night of hard work, Barbie can't be sure. She's not sure where she falls on that spectrum either. Morgan's out the door first, dragging Kira along after her.

"Wait!" Kira laughs. Morgan does not, so Kira turns back and says, "Good night, Babs!"

"I think we know who's going to have the best night out of all of us," Farah says wryly. The burst of levity brings a smile to Barbie's face, despite her fatigue.

"I'm just grateful my room is on the opposite end of the hallway to Kira's," Barbie says with a shake of her head. Nate groans, sinking into the passenger seat.

"I share a wall," he says, already defeated. With the sigh of a man facing a firing squad, he unfolds himself from the vehicle to head inside, Farah rabbiting off after him.

Ava has still yet to say a word or so much as move her hands off the steering wheel. For a long moment the only sound is the tick tick tick of the engine cooling down. Her broad shoulders are rigid, tight. Worse than they were during the odd conversation they had before the auction.

"Ava?" Barbie asks. Ava's shoulders inch up. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Ava interrupts with a bark. She inhales, chest expanding, then lets out a slow breath. "You should get some rest. It has been a very long night."

"Yes," Barbie agrees, sliding across the seat to step out of the SUV. Ava follows suit, falling into step as Barbie picks her way across the path. Kicking off her broken heels had seemed prudent during the auction, but her tender feet are telling her she should have, perhaps, found replacement shoes. Her dress is barely holding together either. Oh well, it's not like Unit Bravo will mind her ragged appearance.

Though, now that she's thinking about that, Ava won't look at her. Barbie doesn't mind a lack of eye contact, but it's very unlike Ava, who seems to find reasons to stare at Barbie every time they're in a room together. She's not being ignored though, that much is clear as Ava stays at Barbie's side when they enter the inviting arms of the warehouse.

Her silent escort doesn't pause when they reach Barbie's room, catching the door and following her in. Barbie can't help a laugh.

"I'm going to take a shower now," Barbie says. Ava blanches. For all her bluster and stoicism, Ava has proven remarkably prudish. It's cute, and Barbie can't help poking at her for it. "You're welcome to join me."

"Excuse me?" Ava sputters. Barbie laughs again.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I meant you could wait in the bathroom while I shower, if you'd like." When Ava doesn't manage another word, Barbie tilts her head. "I assume you wanted to talk? Or chastise me. Either can be done just as well while I clean myself up."

"I suppose that would be the efficient thing," Ava says, sounding impatient. "But no, I would rather...No."

"Alright, then whatever you have to say will have to wait," Barbie says, turning away on the spot, a pang of disappointment hitting her behind the ribs for some reason.

"Wait!" Ava calls. When she turns back, Ava's hand is hovering in midair, half limp, uncertain. Barbie doesn't know why, but she reaches out and takes it, swallowing hard. Ava's hands are wide and strong, but remarkably soft. Almost as much as Barbie's.

For a moment Ava sways on the spot, her piercing green eyes shining with something like agony as she looks at Barbie. It's the same look she'd given her when she begged Barbie not to go to the auction.

"Are you...are you alright?" Barbie asks, barely managing a hoarse whisper as her pulse rushes in her ears. She doesn't love to be touched, with few exceptions, but this isn't disgust or discomfort, no matter how tight the vice around her heart is.

Taking a ragged breath, Ava nods. Then, she does the oddest thing. She lifts Barbie's hand and brushes her lips over the knuckles, split from her adventure in the auctioneer's dungeon.

"Forgive me," Ava says, a bare whisper blowing over her lightly moistened skin. She drops Barbie's hand with care and backs away. "I should go."

"You could stay," Barbie offers, aching for Ava to accept. Ava's jaw, strong and defined, works hard.

Then she leaves, closing the door behind her.

Confusion knits itself with Barbie's brows, her mouth twisting as she tries to figure out what just happened. What's wrong with Ava?

What's wrong with her chest?

A long hot shower soothes the odd palpitations, even if Barbie's mind remains in a whirl.

[queen-scribbles]

17. holding hands while skating [AJ/Nate]

A while back @emeraldgreaves (it won't let me tag your main :|) sent me this prompt for one of my Wayhaven girls or whoever. I filled it for the "whoever" at the time, but had a couple Wayhaven ideas. The AJ/Nate one fleshed out first, so enjoy some post-book three flirting and fun. :D ---

The skating rink was surprisingly quiet tonight. While still housing a decent crowd, it was only half as full as was usual on the weekend. People must be taking advantage of the nicer weather to do things outdoors.

Which was fine by Abigail. Fewer witnesses to what would undoubtedly involve flailing on her part.

"Have you really never done this before?" Nate asked, arm draped around her shoulders as they headed for a bench to pull on their skates.

"Not once," she laughed sheepishly, plunking down and picking at the laces on her Doc Martens. Shoulda worn easier to get off shoes.... She pulled her hair back in a ponytail for good measure. This would be tricky enough without it falling in her face.

"It's not hard," he assured her, pushing to his feet. Steady, no wobble as he waited for her to take his offered hand. "It's very similar to dancing."

"Well, unfortunately, a chuisle," Abigail ran her foot against the floor and watched the skate wheels spin, "I've never done that, either."

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. Feet that immediately went in opposite directions, forcing Nate to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close so they didn't go sprawling across the floor.

"No?" His eyes were dancing with laughter and heat, loose wisps of his own tied-back hair so perfectly framing the warm brown depths she couldn't've looked away with a gun to her head. He kissed her forehead. "Then I suppose I'll have to teach you, won't I?"

She bit her lip even as she grinned, heat filling her face and... regions lower. "I'll try not to be too fast a learner, yeah?"

Her feet started to skid, and Nate tightened his grasp on her waist. "And I'll try not to enjoy it too much, ya rouhi," he murmured.

"Enjoy it as much as y'like," Abigail said playfully, eyes still locked with his. Settling into their relationship had uncovered a bold streak she didn't know she had, and that was every bit as thrilling as the smile Nate was giving her.

"I could say the same to you," he returned, stealing a kiss before carefully releasing her and shifting to stand mostly-behind her. His hands still rested on her arms, one hand clasped with hers for balance(and connection) as he started explaining how to move, turn, stop.

True to her word, Abigail was not a particularly fast learner, though that was only part on purpose. She clung to Nate's hand as they made slow loops of the rink, leaning into the steady support he offered. "So, how d'you know how to skate so well?"

Nate laughed. "Oh, my knowledge is purely rudimentary; Felix is the skilled one in this regard." He shifted his grip to guide her in a curve.

With what she knew of him and how well this was going, Abigail was fairly sure that was downplaying but didn't call him on it. "Rudimentary works just fine for me." She leaned into him and they teetered a moment before he compensated. "This is for fun, I just need t' be good enough to keep my feet."

"I can definitely help with that," he said warmly. Their pace slowed, and he started to loosen his grip with one hand. "Do you trust me, AJ?"

"Yes," she replied before the words had fully left his mouth, and felt him still for a moment before recalling where they were. You know I do.

"Thank you," Nate murmured, then cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could try a twirl?"

Images filled her mind; his dancing comparison, ballroom scenes from movies when women twirled like tops under the upraised arm of their partner.

Her grip on his other hand tightened. "I dunno, Nate. That's not just trusting you; I'm not sure m'balance is up to the task."

"I have faith in you," he said, a smile in his voice. "Just one try? If you aren't comfortable, I have no objections to holding you this close the rest of the night, ya rouhi."

Face as red as her hair, Abigail bit her lip and nodded. "Alright. One try." Even if she muffed it, the worst that would happen was bruised dignity(and maybe her tailbone).

She felt immediately less steady when he took one hand away, raising their still-joined pair so she could spin under them. It was an awkward start, and the follow-through moreso, but she did keep her feet under her. Just barely. She was groping for his other hand even before she finished.

"I knew you could do it," Nate smiled, reeling her in close again.

"I think... I'd rather no' do that again, yeah?" she admitted once tucked back against his chest, his other hand now on her waist for balance. "At least not t'night."

"Your wish is my command," he murmured into her hair, and didn't let go the rest of the night.

[mkaugust]

My scars out there are display

An advertisement of my past and present pain.

I'm told they are not noticeable.

They shrink with each passing day.

Lines fading away.

-

But I still see it,

Harsh and red,

Every time I glance in a mirror.

It's there.

--

No one else can see my pain?

Maybe that is why I'm not believed.

Flashing neon lights

Tattooed on my neck

And invisible

To all but me.

---

[sustainably-du-mortain]

I'm not afraid of you - for the polyam. If you're taking requests?

I know these were supposed to be fluff prompts but apparently I cannot write anything soft without Jonah through pain first, so have some hurt/comfort!

'I'm not afraid of you'

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Pairing: Adam du Mortain x m!detective (Jonah Rafferty) x Nate Sewell Word count: ~1.6k prompt list here

Something is wrong.

Jonah hasn’t said a word since he got back from his apartment, although the quiet is not something unusual for the three of them, the fact that Bo’s fur is bristling and that the dog hasn’t left their boyfriends side since they got back is a clear indicator that something happened while they were away.

“Jonah?” Nate’s voice breaks the heavy silence, worry seeping through the name, but Jonah doesn’t seem to hear it, or if he does, he ignores it. Instead he keeps on scribbling frantically in his notebook.

Adam cannot see what he’s writing from where he’s sitting but, the way his hand follows the same pattern of movements repeatedly, tells him that Jonah has been writing the same words over and over since he sat down.

“Jonah?” This time he’s the one trying to grab their boyfriend's attention but, just like the first time, calling his name doesn’t get him any reaction, or at least not the one he hoped for.

Jonah’s scribbling grows more frenetic. Desperate even. He starts underlining certain words, each line he draws sounding like a knife slicing the tense silence. His breathing becomes erratic. He circles one word. Again and again. The motion like a rope that coils around one’s neck. Suffocating. Until finally, the paper tears and Jonah’s pencil’s snaps in his hand. Sobs follow, ripping away their heart as the sound echoes through the room.

Adam is kneeling before him in a flash, Nate stands next to him in the next.

Cautiously, Adam puts a hand on his knee, but Jonah flinches away as if the touch singed him. Adam can almost hear his heart shattering in his chest. His eyes riveted to his hands, he takes a step back. Tears well in his eyes as Nate takes his place before Jonah. 

A wail, brings his focus back on Jonah and he takes Nate’s previous place beside their boyfriend. He doesn’t have time to feel monstrous, not when Jonah needs them.

“Jonah?” Nate’s voice is hesitant but gentle. “Jonah, can you look at me?”

He doesn’t move. His face is buried in his hands and he’s slightly rocking back and forth in his chair. Nate throws a desperate look towards Adam, looking for help, but he is as lost as Nate is: their boyfriend is right before them and yet they have no idea how to reach him. If they could just get him to look at them.

“Ya rouhi…” The petname is tinted with a hint of despair and concern. “I’m going to touch your hands, if that’s okay with you?” Nate warns him. He waits for a sign that Jonah heard him, but it never comes. Yet, in hopes that the warning made its way through, Nate slowly reaches for his hands, ready to back away at any sign of discomfort from Jonah.

When Jonah lets him put his hands over his, Nate starts softly rubbing circles on the back of his hands. Adam watches as their boyfriend relaxes a little at the gesture, until he allows Nate to peel his hands away from his face.

“Hi…” Nate whispers with a smile when their eyes finally meet, although he’s not sure Jonah can see him through the stream of tears. “Now I want you to take a deep breath with me, do you think you can do that?”

Nate breathes in and Jonah joins him. Nate doesn’t let go of his hands the whole time. 

“You’re doing great, my love. One more time.”

Adam’s eyes fall on the open notebook while they do it a few more times. Covering every square inch of the page, he can barely decipher the five words etched over and over again into the paper.

‘I’m not afraid of you’ they read. 

Instantly worry washes over him. What the hell happened while Jonah was at his apartment? Who did he encounter? Did they attack him? He barely holds back from questioning him, knowing this would only make the situation worse. Instead he tries to reign in his concern and takes a deep breath along with his boyfriends.

When the sobbing quiets down, he puts a hand on Jonah’s shoulder who looks up at him, tears still trickling down his face. Adam hesitantly reaches to brush away a strand of hair sticking to his cheek. His heart soothes in his chest when Jonah leans into the touch before wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Adam immediately starts raking his fingers through his hair for he knows that Jonah is very fond of the gesture.

They stay like this for a while. Jonah pressed against his stomach. Nate, still kneeling before him, although his head is resting on his lap now. This is an uncomfortable position for the three of them, but this is the one thing they need to ease the remnants of worry and fear which washed over them. So they do not move, not until every single one of them feels better.

“Want to tell us what happened?”

“Who is this about?”

A hoarse chuckle escapes Jonah’s mouth when the two vampires break the quiet at the same time.

“Bobby...” Jonah whispers with an exhausted sigh. He doesn’t need to explain furthermore, the mention of the reporter is enough to make the two vampires tense instantly. 

A few weeks ago, Jonah told them about their shared past, how things ended between them, the impact he had on Jonah’s life and well-being. So the thought of the two of them, alone in Jonah’s apartment, makes Adam’s stomach lurch in his throat. This might be worse than anything he had in mind.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jonah shakes his head. “Maybe later…”

“Would you like some distraction then?” This time Nate’s question is met with a nod. “Do you have something in mind?”

***

Felix is walking by to get to the kitchen when a scream, coming from the living room, makes him stop in his tracks.

Adam requisitioned the living room earlier this evening, denying the other half of Unit Bravo access to the room for the rest of the night, which of course spurred a lewd quip from Mason. And since Adam did not tell them the reason behind his request, Felix has been dying to take a look inside the living room. So, when another scream escapes from the room, followed closely by three distinct fits of laughter - bright and loud giggles, a low chuckle and a muffled laugh - he can’t help but push the doors of the living room ajar.

“I told you we should have put these pillows here!” Jonah complains just as Felix peeks his head through the door. He hardly manages to hold back a laugh when he sees what’s going on.

Adam and Jonah are standing in front of a massive pillow fort, or at least what is supposed to be a pillow fort, for it seems to have collapsed in on itself, which Felix guesses is the reason for the screams and giggles he heard seconds before. The ruins of the fort take up half of the living room and Felix would have given everything to see it in all of its glorious magnificence. So, he makes up a mental note of sneaking into the living room later on to see it, since they seem to be keen on rebuilding it.

In the meantime he observes as Adam and Jonah stand before the mountain of pillows and sheets, only remnants of the construction, trying to assess the damage. Jonah is actually holding what looks like a construction plan and Felix struggles to bite back the chuckle that threatens to leave the barrier of his lips. He shouldn’t be surprised, these two always take things way too seriously, but a construction plan? For a blanket fort? Really? He wishes he had taken his phone with him, Mason is never going to believe him without proof.

As they start debating over their next course of action, Felix’ eyes travel across the room in search of Nate. He heard him laugh earlier, so he must be somewhere in there. But his focus is caught by the paused image projected on the wall behind them. He recognizes that one movie with the green ogre that Jonah once called a masterpiece and Felix has to admit he’s quite impressed with the fact that he managed to get Nate and Adam to watch it. Adam in particular, seeing that making him sit through an animated movie is a feat Felix hasn’t yet managed to achieve.

Bo, emerging from underneath the collapsed heap of blankets, catches his attention.

With a bark, the dog starts pulling at the sheets when a strange bump suddenly forms into the pile of bed-linen and pillows. 

“I know I cannot actually suffocate, but it would be nice if you two could actually help me out.” This time Felix cannot hold back a snort upon hearing Nate.

The other two immediately rush to haul him out of the wreckage. Jonah helps him up before rising on his tiptoes to land a soft peck on his cheek. Adam does the same on the other cheek.

“I’m sorry we left you in there.” Adam apologizes, his head nuzzling in the crook of his neck when Nate wraps an arm around him.

“Sorry!” Jonah gives him a sheepish smile before joining the hug, that’s when he finally spots him. “Oh, hi Felix!”

“Shit!” 

The vampire slams the door shut, cursing Jonah for revealing his presence. He has to flee before Adam kills him for catching them being all lovey-dovey despite the fact that he was supposedly banned from the living room.

[nerdierholler]

Since I’m in a rare writing mood but don’t really know what to write (and I have the day off), let’s do some prompts. Here’s some options from various themed months that I never got around to doing. These sound light and fluffy but no guarantees it might not actually end up being a little sad, depends on where my brain goes.

Please send me prompts (specify which list it’s from) for any of my Detectives: Henry/Nate, Ethan/Adam, Bree/Mason, Andie/Soft Mason.

Prompt List Themes: Domestic General Fluff Comfort Touching

[grapecaseschoices]

Hii <3 If you're still answering questions for the relationship ask, Self, Mentor and Friendship for Val? No pressure, though!

I almost missed this! So sorry, @serenpedac! From this ask game.

Self: How is your OC's relationship with themself? Does your OC like who they are? Is there anything about themself that they would change?

Haha. Not as good as they pretend it is. I know this about SELF but trust me this is related. Val's approach to OTHER'S is very 'take me or leave me' [sometimes in a shruggy/uninterested manner, sometimes in a hostile or daring manner], but they expect to be left.

And that is sort of how they see themselves? Someone not worth sticking around with. I think asking if Val likes themselves begs upon more introspection than Val wants to give the subject/than Val feels the subject deserves. They are very 'I am who I am, deal with it' as much to themselves as they are with others. So, any change Val does is semi-subconcious. It's like they might notice something they say hits wrong with someone they care about and they may brush it off at the moment, but I feel later on if a similar situation occurs they might tone it down a tad. Val is more of a reactor, I feel. So I feel tho they act automatically [and obnoxiously], they take in things just the same. It's like in the back of their mind.

In short, Val is one of my egoists with low-self-esteem. My Jake Peralta. LMAO. Val knows they're good at their strengths. And they probably overblow it. They know. They think they're stylish and their hobbies are cool. But they also think they're trash [and not the way I call them my trash gremlin]. They know they don't process or react to emotional things the way most people do/people believe they should. And they don't come off as 'decent' and 'kind' or 'hard-working' and 'dedicated' and 'mature' as people believe they should. So in their mind they know they're not as valued or taken seriously. But that's a YOU problem. Deal with it.

Mentor: Does your OC have a mentor? Have they ever reached out to anyone for guidance or teaching, or been taken under someone's wing? How does your OC get along with their mentor?

No. LMAO. Val has no Raymond Holt. BUT, in THEIR OWN WAY, they do respect the Captain a lot more than one would think given how much they're sardonic @ him. And his opinions weigh a touch more on them than one [probably even him] would think. A good job from the Captain has Val feeling unnaturally peppy. LMAO. He is their dad, woogie boogie.

I don't think Val would ever call the Captain. But if he was there, and he said something useful ....

Strangely though, if Val WERE to reach out to someone for guidance it might be Adam. And for advice/teaching it might be Felix.

Don't look into it!!

Friendship: What's your OC like as a friend? How are they at making new friends? What are the most important friendships in your OC's life?

Awful. LMAO. I don't know why Tina and Felix are still around. Honeslty, Val has probably said quite a few things unintentionally and intentionaly to shut that down. But als. That said, once you have Val as a friend, I think they're great for laughs and not a bad shoulder to cry on. I don't see them loyal in the traditional sense but they are more protective than they believe. They aren't a BIG hugger but they actually are pretty goodat it for someone so teeny/slim. Physical touch is their love language [one of them] but it's more broish.

All their new friends, including Adam, sort of just came upon them. Though with Adam it was a mutual coming upon. Adam, Felix, and Tina are the most important friendships [probably in that order lmao.] They are very fond of Verda tho. It's grown that way. And they grow fonder of Mason as well.

Thank you for the ask! Apologies for the super delay <3

[smittenbypoetry]

Poetry Game!

October 2024 Edition:

The rules are as follows: write an eleven line poem. Each respective line includes, but, unless stated, is not limited to the following in order:

A body of water

A geometric shape

A type of cloud

Something you find in the bathroom

The word: susurrus

Free line, use however you like

Any idyllic place

A metaphor using any fruit

A type of dance

The word: perfect

Title of any song you like

Have fun!

---

Tag your poem #smittenbypoetrygame, and I will reblog it here. Be sure to use one of the first five tags to do this, else there’s a chance it won’t show up when I search for it. If I haven’t reblogged your poem within 24 hours, please send me a message and I’ll add it to the queue.

[getcareless]

Conception

Conception; you’re a mess.

We passed each other in the moonbeams.

I saw your face before I dreamt.

We don’t wear ties doing what we do.

I washed my visions.

We go to sleep upset.

I’m hungry for your love.

Is it tomorrow yet?

JEP

[env0writes]

NaPoWriMo Vol. 3, 17.29.24 “TTPD"

If these are the best word’s you’ve got Then I’m tortured already Playing at The Prince Words locked like arms of an Albatross Fearful of the fans, the waves below Anything but self-effacing - planet erasing As deadly in deed and word as a mercurial agent Traveling just as fast on wings –unshared– All true ism’s are worn in the summer cardigan Watched by the world through zealot’s eyes Antithetical to art, start a clandestine cooperation Would be safe, if not profitable A prophet must make profit There can be no elegy, for prophets never die Never lie Never slow Were these piercing words like needles Threading through me thoroughly What a farcical cult, leader, won’t bleed or Lay seeds for the world to bloom If this is the leader, then the world is doomed

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!   Photo by my friend Mika

[queen-scribbles]

10. "You're about to fall asleep on your feet." for the Wayhaven romantic, platonic, or AU pair of your choice :3

And with this, I've now written AJ with all of Bravo* \o/ ----

Abigail's eyes burned from staring at the computer screen, she'd lost track of her coffee consumption, and she was a little afraid to look at the clock. Yet for all her efforts to stave off sleep and work just a little longer, her hopes of a worthwhile lead had yet to bear fruit for any of the missing people.

She could feel them watching her reproachfully from the board sitting across he office, paper eyes asking why she hadn't found them yet as she swallowed another yawn.

That sensation may have been why it took her an extra moment to register she had company.

Abigail nearly jumped out of her skin when she finally noted the vampire lounging in her doorway. "Mason! What're you doin' here? An' don't scare me like that!"

Mason narrowed his eyes. "How much coffee have you had?"

Abigail ran her hands through her hair, wincing as she snagged at least one knot amongst the curls. "I dunno."

He grunted. "I'm gonna guess a lot, going by your heartrate. How long since you slept?"

Heat crept up her face. "Are you m'doctor now?" she deflected, pushing to her feet to go check something on the missing persons board. It definitely came out sharper than she intended.

Mason didn't seem fazed. "Hardly. But Nate'll be insufferable if you work yourself til you break over this. I'd rather avoid that."

"I appreciate th' concern," she said, swallowing another yawn mid-word as she skimmed some info on the board. And she did, however he couched his worry, but, "I'm fine to go a bit more, yeah? I'm really close--"

The world rocked as she turned from the board and suddenly Mason was right next to her. He gripped her arm briefly to balance her before letting go as if she burned. "AJ, you're about to fall asleep on your damn feet," he growled. "You need to go home."

She knew he was right. She might not know what time it was specifically, but she had pulled an all-nighter. She also knew she had a job to do, people she was supposed to protect, and she couldn't do that if she couldn't find them. "You didn't answer my question; what're you doin' here in th' first place?"

"I had patrol anyway, so got saddled with relaying an update; the Agency confirmed the last two" --he jerked his head toward the board-- "were supernatural. Which means all of them tie to the Trappers and none are the police's job to find. And the Agency has people on it, so you, Detective, can go get some fucking sleep."

That was a relief, in a twisted way, but she could feel the eyes on her still; she couldn't be absolved so easily. "Alright, but knowin' that, maybe I can use where they were taken t' figure the Trappers' base..."

"With that flying bastard helping them?" Mason snorted. "Fat chance. AJ, go home."

Even at only a few inches taller, he was a wee bit intimidating crowded into her personal space. But she caved less from that and more from the faint trace of concern lurking under the snapping irritation in his grey eyes.

"I will," Abigail promised. "Let me wrap up a few loos ends and file things and I'll go, yeah?"

Mason nodded sharply as he headed for the door. He paused, hands in pockets, just before exiting. "If you're still here on my next pass, I'll haul you out and drag you back to that overstuffed shithole you call an apartment, got it?" he growled over his shoulder.

She didn't bother trying to hide her yawn--or protest his description of her throw pillow collection--as she nodded. "Deal." True to her word, she finished up and left a few minutes later.

It may have just been exhaustion-induced hallucination, but she'd swear she caught a familiar silhouette following her home.

[sustainably-du-mortain]

For the soft & sweet starters if you’re interested!: “keep it. It looks better on you.” For Madeleine x Morgan?

This got away from me sghdjk

soft & sweet sentence starters prompts Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Word count: ~1.4k

Madeleine has spent the last four hours working on a new project. The noise of her sewing machine winding new bobbins fills the room, a comforting sound to her ears that now feels like the soundtrack of her own life. Although it’s not helping with the headache she currently has.

A loud gasp leaves her mouth as she lays out the stencil she just cut on her sewing table. She had been so focused on trying to get that new pattern right that she did not realize she had been using the wrong measurements all along. She frantically flips through her notebook, looking for her measurements sheets, berating herself for making such a newbie mistake, until her eyes finally land on the pages she is looking for.

There, on the right page, scribbled in her neat handwriting, are her own measurements that she updated not long ago and, next to them, the source of her confusion: the ones she recently took of Morgan. 

Maddie is quick to put the blame of her mistake on the headache because, putting it on the fact that she wasn’t paying attention, would mean having to admit that Morgan occupies her every waking thought. So the headache is the perfect culprit for her mistake. 

For a moment, she considers throwing away the stencil and starting it all anew, but she doesn’t want to bother with making a new one tonight. Her thoughts start to wander before she can stop them.

Her fingers trace the pattern of the fabric laid across her sewing table as her intentions start to shift. She is wondering if this is a good idea when her gaze falls on the selection of fabric rolls leaning against the wall. The plain burgundy one catches her eye and she lets her mind wander farther away with the idea.

She thinks about how dazzling she looks in that color. How the fabric would drape over her body. How much the v-shaped neckline would reveal. Heat rushes to her face and sparks prickle across her skin at the thought of Morgan in that shirt. She shakes her head, chasing away the lustful thoughts.

“Oh, what you do to me…” She whispers, marching across the room to grab the roll of fabric and bring it back to her sewing table.

She discards the patterned one currently spread out on it and sets to work. The whisper of suggestive thoughts ever present in the back of her mind as she starts pinning the stencil to the fabric.

***

“What’s that?” Morgan asks immediately upon entering Maddie’s apartment. Maddie doesn’t need to turn around to know that she’s referring to the carefully folded shirt laying in plain sight on her table.

“Oh, just a shirt I made for myself-” Madeleine says, closing her front door before heading for the kitchen, “-but it doesn’t fit.” She doesn’t know if Morgan can tell that she is lying through her teeth right now, she probably can, but Maddie doesn’t take her eyes off the cup of tea she’s making to find out.

“So what are you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know…” She knows. She knows exactly what she wants to do with it, she just hasn’t come up with a good way to ask yet.

“Can I try it?”

Her spoon drops in the cup at the words, splashing tea all over the counter and on her dress. Her mouth agape, she finally looks up at Morgan who is standing next to the dining table, holding the shirt before her with her arms stretched.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” She asks looking up from above the shirt.

“You want to try it?”

“The color looks nice.” Morgan shrugs. “So, can I?”

“Yes!” Madeleine tries to quench the excitement down a little. “You can.” She allows, as if finally seeing Morgan in that poet shirt isn’t the thing she has been longing for all morning.

Without any warning, Morgan strips out of her top and sends it flying across the room where it lands on the sofa. She keeps her eyes purposely locked on Maddie’s when doing it, a smug smile tugging at her lips.

“Getting an eyeful, sweetheart?” She teases.

That’s all it takes for Madeleine to turn a bright shade of red. She turns away, desperately trying to hide her embarrassment, but it’s so obvious in the way she fumbles with her next words.

“I- That’s- You could have warned me!”

Morgan’s laugh echoes in the room and Maddie basks in it.She considers making a fool of herself again just to hear more of it.

She hears the swifting on the fabric as Morgan slips the shirt on and she can’t help her heart from drumming in her chest. She thinks it’s going to burst with expectation, when Morgan ends her suffering. 

“You can turn around, sweetheart.”

She sucks in a deep breath before turning on her heels.

There she is, standing in front of her, in the shirt she sewed and she looks even better than Madeleine could have imagined.

“So, how do I look?” Morgan asks, not looking up as she tucks the shirt in her high-waisted jeans.

She wants to tell her that she looks stunning, bewitching even, but her response doesn’t come as every word she can think of feels like the utmost understatement. Madeleine has always prided herself in being eloquent and yet, right in this instant, she is rendered speechless by the sight before her because every word she can think of feels like it isn’t enough to describe Morgan. Except for one.

She looks like a goddess.

The word echoes in her mind until it occupies her every thought and she wonders if this is how artists felt when they chose the Gods as muses. If this wave of emotions overwhelming her is how sculptors felt when molding their bodies in stone? If the acute perception of the scene captivating every of her senses is how painters felt when laying their appearance on canvases? If this intimate quiet as the world shifts beneath her feet is how writers felt when putting their words on paper?

“So, judging by your reaction, I’m guessing I look good.”

Morgan’s words take her out of her trance and she suddenly becomes very aware of how body is betraying her. She feels the scorching heat in her cheeks, which are probably a bright shade of red. She notices the goosebumps covering every inch of her skin. But it’s her knees threatening to buckle under the weight of her feelings for the vampire that catches her off-guard the most.

“You do.” Is all she manages to mutter.

“That’s all you have to say?” Morgan teases her. “You’re usually way more talkative than that.”

“What do you want me to say?” The words sound harsher than she meant and she instantly feels guilty about it. “You look-” She bites the words back.

“Say it, sweetheart. Your body has been screaming it for the past minutes, there’s no use hiding your thoughts from me.”

“You look like a goddess.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but she knows Morgan heard them perfectly.

“Is that really what you think?” There’s a hint of vulnerability in the words that makes Maddie take a step forward.

She nods. She wants to tell her that her smile makes her heart flutter every time she gets to see it. That her freckles look like constellations shining in the night sky. That burgundy became her favorite color the instant she saw her in it. She wants to tell her that she’s the most beautiful person she has ever laid eyes on. But she doesn’t because describing deities doesn’t do them justice.

There’s a moment of silence during which none of them move.

Madeleine is the first one to break it as she walks up to Morgan who pulls her closer by the waist the instant she is within reach. She has to tiptoe to press a kiss on the vampire’s cheek. And one more. Two. Three. She’s going for a fourth one when Morgan gets tired of it and captures her lips in a kiss. Soft and tender. That leaves Madeleine breathless.

“So, what are you going to do with this?” Morgan asks, parting away.

“You should keep it.” The words spill out of her mouth before she can stop them. “It looks better on you anyway.” Madeleine says as if gifting it to Morgan has been her intention, as if she hadn’t altered the pattern last minute to help with Morgan’s eventual discomfort with the ruffles. As if the shirt shouldn’t be at least 4 sizes bigger if she had really made it for her.

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart.” Morgan whispers in her ear.

[wreckerslula99]

I'm going to be participating in this August writing challenge! Star Wars Edition! I'll try to get one thing uploaded per day!

I'm going to write Star Wars one-shots (no xReader, pretty much only canon characters used!) for this, one based on each prompt in this list!

—

DISCLAIMER: I will be changing "Prompt 28: Italy", seeing as Italy doesn't really exist in the Star Wars universe (it does exist, but in a galaxy far, far away...). I'm not sure what I'll be changing it to, maybe "Naboo"? Since they give similar vibes. I might also change "Prompt 16: Wanderlust" because I'm having a lot of trouble figuring out when, who or why any of the characters would ever have the urge to travel, seeing as they already travel so much for the war and if they'd go and take a vacation, I'd probably use that idea for the Naboo prompt. So, "Prompt 16: Wanderlust" will probably be changed to July's writing challenge prompt of the same number, "Prompt 16: "It's been hurting for a while, I think it's serious.""

—

These works will have a variety of content/trigger warnings, and quite a lot of angst or hurt/comfort. I will put the warnings in the notes before every work, and I will start a Masterlist with all works, which I will link here later. I will also upload everything to my AO3, so if you prefer to read there, there will be a link provided at the start of every work as well as the Masterlist.

—

AWC Masterlist

AO3 AWC series

“I think the map is leading us in circles.”

Tribute

Running eyeliner

“It’s refreshing to finally see you make a mistake.”

“I don’t usually get motion sick but— oh, I think I’m gonna puke.”

Necessary theft

Backfired

Damage control

Flirting

“Why did you pretend to not know me?”

Tasteless

A hole in a shoe

A change in appearance

Proof checking

“Sand gets everywhere.”

Wanderlust

Levitating

Broken glass

Misdirection

A poorly healed injury

“This haircut makes me feel like a douchebag.”

Blinding

“You said you’d go with me.” “I lied.”

Dance sequence

Uniforms

Battle of the wits

“Believe it or not, I’m not always in the mood to murder people.”

Italy

Consequences

Collector’s edition

Too subtle

Also see:

2021 August writing challenge

Writing challenge masterlist

Prompts masterlist