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October 2nd

pairing: Pero Tovar x fem!reader (gendered spanish is used once in the form of querida but nothing else)

warnings: fluff!

words: 529

a/n: Prompt for today is Superstitions from this list by @raven-cincaide-words. Just a fun little married moment with Pero :)

Directory, Day 1

🎃🎃🎃

Being married to Pero was wonderful for many reasons. There was the love, the making love, the companionship, the home, the family, the fun, and so many more than you could list. But there also seemed to be new cultural differences that you discovered every day. Superstitions mainly, and mostly on Pero’s side since you weren’t raised to believe in them. 

But oh boy did Pero. From pricking your finger on one of the multiple cacti on the windowsill to being reprimanded for leaving your hat on the bed, it seemed you were constantly breaking some Spanish superstition or another. 

You did your best to follow the new ones when Pero told you about them, more for his sake since he worried when you broke them, but it was a lot to remember. 

Tonight you were having dinner, enjoying the evening and conversation with each other after a day of work outside preparing for the coming autumn chill. 

“Darling, can you pass me the bread?” you asked, gesturing in front of him. But when you moved your hand, you accidentally knocked into the glass holding your wine and it fell over with a dull thud, thankfully not breaking against the table. “Oh no! What luck, I just washed this tablecloth too.” 

You jumped up to grab a rag to soak it up, but Pero grabbed your hand, “No, querida, it is not bad luck. Spilt wine is a good omen.” 

“A good omen? But it’s a mess. It might even stain the wood of the table,” you pointed out. 

“I will help you clean it, but first let us partake in some of the good luck for ourselves,” Pero said, squeezing your hand before letting it go. He reached forward and dabbed his middle finger in the small pool of wine that had spilled on your empty plate. 

“What— how do we do that?” you asked, watching him intently. 

“Like this,” Pero gently touched his finger to your forehead and you tracked the movement until you practically went cross-eyed. 

When he pulled his hand back, you breathed a laugh, “That’s it? Wine on our foreheads is all we need for good luck?” 

Pero shrugged, “Us Spaniards, we do not shy away from a good omen. If we can soak up a little of its power with our sweet wine, we would be fools not to.” 

You smiled at that and said, “Your turn then,” and did the same to Pero, making sure not to put too much wine on his forehead that it dripped down his face. But then a drop of wine dripped along your hand and started down the length of your wrist until Pero grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. 

He pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin until he reached your fingertip and fit his lips around it. Pero gently laved your finger with his tongue and then softly sucked at it as you watched with rapt attention. 

When he pulled your finger out of his mouth and started working towards the others, your eyes widened and you said, “Maybe we should leave the table for later. So what if it stains?”

🎃🎃🎃

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Day 2

Prompt: Cuddling (from the Sweet & Spooky Halloween & Love inspired list by @raven-cincaide-words)

Loose “pairing”: GN Tav/Karlach

Summary: A particularly cold, grim night in the Shadow Cursed Lands sends Tav spiraling, right into everyone’s favorite tiefling’s toasty arms (otherwise known as feelings too big for fic so smol).

Rating: T

Word count: 1430

Tags/cws: mostly abstract mentions of death; emotional distress; depressive thoughts; obvious emotional damage; brief mention of alcohol that I’m guessing no one really cares about; sad but becomes fluffy

Not my usual! Not particularly happy with this! Mediocre soup!

The brutality of the Shadow Cursed Lands had not been exaggerated, and even still, Tav found they were ill-prepared. The days combing through the vast, uncertain landscape were hellish. Nightmares lurked around every corner, sometimes directly in their path. Somehow, the nights were worse; worse still was the unsettling lack of distinction between day and night. The gloom was pervasive—cold, dark, seeping into Tav’s bones, turning the marrow black and heavy.

The mood at camp reflected it. Before, it was mostly late nights full of storytelling and animated conversation around the fire. Now, most of the companions quietly headed to their tents soon after dinner. Tav preferred to stay close to the fire, taking in as much warmth and light as they could for as long as possible, till it burned low and they were the only one left to tend it.

Tonight was no different. Tav waited to seek their bedroll until even the winking embers struggled to remain awake. They dashed them with canteen of water, then trudged to their tent. The ground under their bedroll was unforgiving—not a winter’s cold, but a hollow, empty one, leeching Tav’s warmth and spirit.

I am going to die here, they thought.

It made sense. The lands were oppressive and dank as tomb; it was final resting place by any other name.

They thought, I will haunt this place like so many others. I will become nothing but an echo, killing and being killed forevermore.

Tav shivered and clenched fingers tightly around their thin blanket. What a pity, they thought. To come this far and be lost to the wicked whims of this landscape.

In what Tav was certain would be their final moments before the cold and dark consumed what was left, they thought of home. Their mind’s eye held Mum in her garden and Dad puffing away on his pipe by the fire, as it always did. They saw Eltyra, their childhood companion, smiling and braiding daisies into her long saffron hair. Their shared adolescence passed through Tav’s mind in a blink, then gave way to the rest—the years in the cloister, the sting of the betrayal and finding themself disgraced, the Nautiloid, everything up til now.

The conjured vision of Eltyra sunk hooks into Tav. They realized with a start how much of her they saw in Karlach, how alike they were. Both unceasingly brave and sunny, resilient and fierce.

Karlach. Watching Dammon give her engine the fix it needed to keep her stable had been the one bright spot of the day. Was that even today? It could have been days ago, a lifetime. Time felt different here. When Tav wrapped their arms around Karlach in the moments after the tune-up, they’d expected to come away with burn marks. Not that it stopped them. Tav wanted to hug the tiefling since the moment they’d met. They understood why now. She reminded Tav of home.

It had been ages since Tav felt homesick, since they’d even let themself think of home. Caring about home would’ve made them weak and vulnerable. The easiest way not to care was to forget.

They wanted to see it again, they realized: Mum’s wild garden, Dad’s carved pipe with the mouthpiece chewed, Eltyra’s sunshine braids and what Tav imagined by now must be a brood of little ones. Home.

To do that, they had to survive the night. And every one after it. They needed heat. They needed body heat.

Tav willed their icy joints and frozen muscles to move. Bones and tendons groaned in protest as they rolled to their palms and knees, then slowly to their feet. The first few steps of the frigid shuffle across camp to Karlach’s tent were agony. They became easier as Tav’s body began to relax a bit and warm from the exertion.

“Karlach?” Tav whispered, pushing aside the flap of her tent.

Tav had a vague expectation of having to work harder to wake Karlach; they imagined her a much heavier sleeper. Instead, she sat up swiftly at the sound of her name, fingertips reaching for her axe seemingly on instinct. A holdover from her days as Zariel’s finest, if Tav were to guess.

“Everything all right, soldier?” Karlach asked. Her eyes glowed in the darkness. Tav could feel already how much warmer it was inside the tiefling’s tent. Their teeth chattered as they opened their mouth to answer. A chill wracked their body.

“Come close,” Karlach said, beckoning with both arms open wide. “Mama K’s got you.”

Tav didn’t hesitate; they dove inside the tent and were in Karlach’s arms in seconds.

“You’re all right, love,” she whispered into their hair. “Let’s get you defrosted.”

Together, they shifted onto their sides, Karlach’s much larger, warmer body enveloping Tav’s lean frame. Karlach tucked her blanket around both of them as best she could.

“Right then, sorry about the singed bits,” she said.

Tav smiled weakly. Another second later, Karlach plopped something soft and squishy into Tav’s arms. Tav squinted at it and felt along its edges. It was a teddy bear.

“This here’s Clive. I’m going to need you to look after him tonight. He needs a cuddle about as badly as you do, and my arms are spoken for,” Karlach said. “Can you do that for me?”

Tav nodded against Karlach’s chest. The heat of her engine on their back was soothing; Tav was beginning to feel their body again. They were aware of their arms wrapped around Clive and fingertips clutching the edge of Karlach’s blanket, legs pressed against hers, twined at the ankle.

Once settled, sleep came easily. There were no nightmares or dream visitors. Tav slept uninterrupted, dreamlessly, for the first time in weeks.

On dawn’s arrival, Tav was roused by the unfamiliar sensation of someone running gentle fingers along their hairline and down the bridge of their nose.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Karlach whispered. “Smell’s like soup’s on.”

Tav’s eyes fluttered open to find that they’d rolled over in the night. They were facing Karlach, Clive smooshed between their bodies. Not just facing, they realized. Embracing. It wasn’t just ankles twined anymore, their legs were tangled under the blanket. Tav’s left arm hung limply across Karlach’s waist. Anyone who looked at them would assume they’d slept like this hundreds of times. It was comfortable. Pleasant. Addictive.

A lazy smile spread across the tiefling’s face as she watched Tav take in their surroundings.

“Sorry,” Tav stammered. “I mean. Thank you?”

Karlach laughed. “No sweat. Seems like we were both in need of a cuddle.”

…

Tav didn’t delay sleep as late as usual the next night. After winning the trust of Jaheira and her Harper stronghold at Last Light Inn and staving off Isobel Thorm’s capture, the companions had more than earned the pleasure of borrowing a bit of extra bedding from the inn’s storage. Moth-eaten and raggedy though they were, Tav looked forward to snuggling up with more than one thin blanket for a change.

There was still commotion around camp when Tav slipped into their tent for the night. Wyll was throwing the ball for Scratch; a few others, Karlach included, were determined to see the bottom of the bottle of mermaid whiskey they’d opened early that evening. Tav folded a blanket from Last Light atop their bedroll, keeping an extra layer between their weary body and the unforgiving ground.

It was a welcome change to tuck into bed with chatter and laughter around them again. The ground didn’t feel as hard or as cold—though that was more likely due to the added cushioning than the ambiance. Tav drifted in an out of sleep until the world outside their tent began to quiet.

“Solider?” came Karlach’s voice from outside their tent. “You decent?”

“Course,” Tav croaked. Perhaps they’d been more asleep than they realized. “Come on in, K.”

Karlach’s smiling face appeared through the tent flaps a second later, followed by the rest of her body. She crouched awkwardly alongside Tav’s bedroll.

“Sorry to wake you, mate,” she half-whispered. “I just, uh—I mean. Well, you see…Clive missed you tonight.”

Tav searched Karlach’s hands and found them empty, not a stuffed bear in sight.

“Clive missed me, huh?”

“Yeah. See, last night was the first time in forever he’s had a cuddle companion who’s not yours truly and I think he’s got a bit spoiled.”

Tav hummed. “Well, Clive’s free to come by for a cuddle any time he wants.”

They were both still for a moment, quiet.

“Karlach? Could I hold you this time?”

[raven-cincaide-words-reblogs]

October Fanworks Challenge #2

Title: Be Careful What You Bottle Up Fandom: The Hitman's Bodyguard Characters: Michael Bryce, Darius Kincaid Pairings: mentioned Michael/Amelia Rating: T Words: 2,866 Warnings: Panic attack, PTSD, Strong Language, Torture

Prompts filled: Whumptober "Panic Attacks" | @angstober "Again" | @raven-cincaide-words's Sweet & Spooky Halloween "Rivals" & "Dude in distress" | @Lyricaltitles "So Much For Stardust"

On SquidgeWorld | On Dreamwidth

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Halloween Decorations (English Ver.)

Prompts by @raven-cincaide-words

Missa was watching Chayanne sleep, he didn't have the heart to wake up his child, but Tallulah did have the heart to wake up her brother, if she had to get up early, so did he.  

So, ignoring her apa Missa standing at the side of the bed, she climbed onto the bed to start jumping up and down to wake her brother. 

‘Yeah, I'm coming!’ Shrieked the eldest as he felt his little sister jumping on his bed, ‘It's too early, what are you waking me up for, you moron?’ He yelled at her, grabbing her leg and throwing her onto the bed. 

‘Halloween,’ said the little girl in sign language, growling at him, trying to get out of her brother's grip. 

‘Right,’ said the little boy jumping up from the bed, ’quick apa, we have to start decorating.’ 

The boy started to run towards the hatch to get out of the room, but Missa caught him before the boy could get out. 

‘Where are you going still in your pyjamas, Chay?’ Missa said, unable to contain her laughter. 

At that moment, Philza walked in with a box of decorations and two coffee cups balancing on it. ‘I think we can decorate in our pyjamas.’ 

Missa smiled and went to take the box from her husband's hands, ‘Good morning, cariño.’ 

‘Good morning, darling.’ Said the blond, giving Missa a chaste kiss on the lips and handing her the coffee cup, ‘It has two scoops of coffee, one scoop of sugar and two scoops of cream.’ 

‘Thank you, querido.’ Said the Mexican, pulling down the box of decorations, so the children could see what decorations they had to start decorating Casa bonita  

‘Wow!’ Chayanne said, pulling out a plastic pumpkin, ‘If we put a couple of candles inside, it would look great in the entryway.’ 

Tallulah had discovered the cobwebs and was trying to untangle them, getting stuck in the process. 

Philza laughed, ‘let me help you, my child.’  

Philza knelt down beside Tallulah to get her out of the way of all the decorations, which had somehow got into her dress and hair. ‘Ugh, these cobwebs are worse than the real thing, now go help your brother, Queen.’ 

Meanwhile, Chayanne was pulling little calacas out of the box, ‘Look Lullah! We can put them on the door.’ Said the boy, only to gasp as he found a life-size skeleton, ‘Look, apa, look, it's a calaca just like you! Can we put your hat on it? Please, please.’ 

Missa stopped what he was doing, giving kisses to the girl's ‘wounds’, to think a little, ‘Yes, we can, but we have to be careful.’ 

Tallulah immediately brightened up, and ran off to get Missa's mariachi hat. 

Philza started pulling out some marigold garlands, ‘We could hang these in the kitchen.’ 

‘And these are in the yard!’ shouted Chayanne, pulling out garlands of ghosts and skulls. 

Tallulah tugged on Missa's sleeve to get his attention, ‘Can we carve pumpkins?’ signed the girl

Missa looked at Philza, asking with his eyes if they had pumpkins. 

‘We don't have pumpkins, but we can buy some and carve them tomorrow.’ 

Tallulah huffed, but nodded and quickly joined her brother in the process of decorating the rest of the house, they quickly filled the entire living room with spooky decorations. 

‘Well,’ said Philza, ’the house looks like a graveyard.’ 

‘I know,’ Missa exclaimed, ’isn't it exciting?’  Philza smiled, he loved his bonita family, in their casa bonita, with its not-so-pretty decorations.

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Day twoooo! wooooo.

Again, thanks @raven-cincaide-words for the prompts!!

(My first language is NOT english)

Day 2.- Cuddling.

Ricardo Morales (Law and Order: LA) x Gn!Reader

The day was over and the weight of his work bothered his shoulders and the case weighed on his mind. But he was glad, since he was on his way home. 

Home he shared with the most wonderful person he had ever known.

A person who should be asleep by now, as it was already past midnight.

When Morales finally arrived home and left his jacket on the coat rack by the door and took off his shoes, he gave a tired sigh and ran his hands through his face and hair. 

He wasn't hungry, in fact, he was so tired that he hardly knew how he had made it home safely. Ricardo walked toward the room down the hall, up the stairs, the room where he knew that special person was waiting for him.

His hand grabbed the door handle, and emitting a creaking sound he entered the room, promising himself to fix the door the next day, and he was greeted by one of his favorite people, reading a book on the bed, with a dim light illuminating the yellowed pages of “Anna Karenina”. 

“Welcome” You greeted him, with one of your smiles that stretched your lips completely. You could see his tired face and hair that was usually neatly combed was now dishevelled. When he plopped down on the bed beside you, you let out a chuckle. 

“You should be sleeping...” He said to you in a hoarse voice, muffled from lying with his face in the sheets. His eyes had automatically closed as he felt the cool sheets on his face. 

“I was waiting for you” You answered him softly, putting the book aside, and moving a little closer towards him, trying to comfort him in the face of his tiredness, Ricardo moved on the bed, raising an arm to pull you towards him, wanting and needing as much contact with you as possible. 

Ricardo closed his eyes, as he placed his face against your neck, his nose running lightly down your collar, inhaling the scent of your perfume and your own natural aroma.

A heavy arm went around your waist, resting in that position, letting his muscles relax. 

“This was what I needed” Ricardo murmured, his nose buried against your neck, his eyes still closed as he enjoyed the feel of your body pressed against his, still clinging tightly to you, unwilling to let you go. 

You were all he needed for the tiredness to fade from his body.

[raven-cincaide-words-reblogs]

My First time writing and publishing my tobers sndk Im soooo excited, I'll be giggling and kicking my feet over this although im very scared.

Ill be using the list of @raven-cincaide-words cause i loved it.

And PLEASE have in mind that im a rookie and my first language is not english. That. Im done excusing myself.

Day 1.- First Kiss.

Alan Grant (Jurassic Park 1993) x Fem!reader.

As the events on Isla Nublar came to an end and the adrenaline of running for your lives subsided, you and Alan sat side by side in the helicopter.

You sighed, and your eyes went to your own hands, they were shaking, dirty and injured. Sore and tired, your head rested on the nearest shoulder, that of Dr. Alan Grant. The doctor draped an arm over your shoulders, trying to give you some comfort and solace. His own injuries, fatigue and exhaustion were taking their toll, and now, sitting up, he ached all over.

But he was calm, relieved that you were out of danger and most of all, beside him.

He felt that if he stopped touching you at any point, you would disappear again on that island full of dangerous creatures. When the helicopter had finally touched land, somehow Alan felt desperate once again to feel you, even though your hand was still in contact with his, and he longed for your presence, even more so now that he knew what it felt like to hold you in his arms.

When the paramedics had finished checking them over and healed their wounds, having dismissed any major concerns, Alan's legs carried him towards you, you were sitting in the back of one of the ambulances that had been waiting for them thanks to John Hammond's call.

Once they were face to face, his hand found its home on your cheek, no one spoke, but the sound of the engines and the flickering lights of the ambulance beacons in the afternoon, made words redundant and in a gesture of deep affection, his thumb caressed the skin of your cheek.

His other hand copied the movement of his twin, and cupped the contours of your face, feeling your skin under his fingers, feverish and dirty from running and fighting for your life. Watching every detail of your face with a man's own interest and affection you had never seen before, he opened his lips, his expression bordering on anguish.

“I almost lost you” He said in a whisper that you barely managed to understand.

“I know” Your lips trembled with a sob caught in your throat, you had never seen him like this, and the very thought that either of you could have died on that island was heartbreaking enough to push over the edge of despair for the other.

And that thought was what led them to share their first kiss, it was desperate and abrupt, just like all the feelings that overwhelmed them both, he crashed his lips against yours, his hands pressed your face, and yours, his dirty and bloody shirt.

He kept his hands where they were, clinging to your face, while his fingertips caressed your skin, unable to stop kissing your lips, with a smile on both faces, and when the air was missing they had to separate a few centimetres, he rested his face on yours and with their foreheads still touching, he smiled, but it was not one of those kind or polite smiles that he gave to certain people, it was a genuine smile, one of those that touched his eyes and made the wrinkles around his blue eyes accentuate.

They had shared their first kiss.

[raven-cincaide-words-reblogs]

October 1st

pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

warnings: suspense

words: 709

a/n: decided pretty last minute to do this, but here is day 1! I would not call this kinktober but I am planning to post everyday this october with a range of different types of prompts but starting with Strange Noise from this list by @raven-cincaide-words (it's on there as day 25, but since I'm using multiple lists, everything's out of order). Excited to get started, hope you enjoy! Directory

🎃🎃🎃

It started when you were asleep. The sound woke you slowly at first. You stirred out of a dream that involved a strange creature in the distance, moving and making a sound. A sound that sounded vaguely familiar but that you couldn’t place. 

Then you woke and the sound was still there. It startled you. You weren’t used to unidentifiable sounds in the little structure that you, Din, and Grogu were living in. It was small enough that you were familiar with every single sight, feel, smell, and sound in it. But not this one. 

Heart beating quicker, you reached out for Din in the dark. His strong arm was warm under your hand and you squeezed it a couple times, wanting him to wake quickly but quietly, just in case. 

Din woke up quicker than you. He always did after years hunting and never letting his guard completely down. Normally, you were glad that he felt like he could with you and Grogu, able to even remove his armor for comfort like sleep. But now you wanted the hunter, the man that would protect you and Grogu from anything that could come your way. 

“What is it?” Din asked, moving close so he didn’t have to speak above a whisper. 

“Do you hear that?” you paused, letting him listen. 

You couldn’t see his face in the dark, but you could picture his expression. Brows furrowed, eyes squinting in concentration, and the firm line of his mouth. 

“It’s inside. Clearly it doesn’t know we’re here or it would be less loud. I’ll take care of it,” Din told you, shifting slowly to grab his helmet on the bedside table. Always there, security and safety in one gleaming piece of beskar. 

In seconds, Din was walking through the doorway with helmet and gauntlets on. You were standing as well, planning to walk behind Din to Grogu’s room so you could ensure the little one’s safety. Behind Din so he could act as your shield. His words. 

The two of you parted in the hallway and you rushed into Grogu’s room as Din rushed to the noise. As your eyes fell to the empty little bed, your heart fell out of your chest as you finally realized what the sound had been. Eating. 

One second before you fell to your knees in despair, Din’s voice called out, “He’s in here!” 

You were in the kitchen the very next second, ready to do anything to save Grogu. But a very different, much less devastating sight was before you than you expected. 

Grogu was standing, completely unharmed, in front of the conservator and surrounded by half eaten and strewn-about food. He must have had a bite of everything you had in there. He was covered in something sticky and the crumbs that had stuck to that, but none of that mattered as you scooped him up into your arms and hugged him close. 

“Oh thank goodness you’re okay,” you breathed, heart rate slowing down for the first time in several minutes. 

“He’s covered in food. He ate everything,” Din countered, although his tone was more tired than frustrated. 

“You must be going through a growth spurt, huh? Are you still hungry or should we clean you up and get back to bed?” you asked the little green child blinking up at you. 

He made one of his cooing sounds and you knew it was a sleepy one. So you said, “Alright, a quick wash-up right after you move all this stuff to the waste bins. Din, I can take care of him if you want to go back to sleep.” 

Grogu waved a hand over your shoulder, moving everything to the correct bin in seconds. Din watched the movement before responding, “No, I’ll do a security check then join you.” 

You nodded with a small smile, knowing that even something harmless like this set off his protective instinct and let him do what would help him go back to sleep peacefully while you did what would help you. You turned your attention back to Grogu, “Let’s get you cleaned up. And while we do, we can talk about what you should do if you get hungry in the middle of the night again.”

🎃🎃🎃

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What am I?

A reblogs blog for @raven-cincaide-words meant to show what people can do with the prompts posted on that channel. So want prompts? Go on and check the link above out? and if you tag me I'll gladly read and reblog! Cheers