#I know that was supposed to be a fluffy prompt but I really couldn't stop myself there

[spielzeugkaiser]

I am still on board the AU AU where Geralt gets to actually hold a newborn Milek and he cries

[MASTERPOST] awww, oh my, that would be so good!! Geralt absolutely would, and he would be so supportive of Jaskier too!

It's so sad that it doesn't go like that...

listen I have so many feelings about Jaskier giving birth all by himself in this 'verse

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Birthday Confession

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.4K

SUMMARY | Bucky never really cared for his birthday, but he suddenly had a different outlook since you came into his life. As long as he can spend it with you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor he secretly harbors a major crush on— and his cat, Alpine, he's happy. However, when everything takes a turn this year, you're both turning it into a birthday he'll never forget.

RATING | Mature (M)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption, Natasha and Tony are alive, mutual pining.

A/N | This story is written in honor of Bucky Barnes' birthday, which is the perfect opportunity for me to get into the swing of writing for him again! It's written for Bucky's Birthday Bash—hosted by @buckybarnesevents—and includes the prompts Post Endgame Bucky, Friends to Lovers, Reader, and Dancing. The story is not proofread, any and all mistakes are my own.

EVENTS Masterlist | @buckybarnesevents BABB061: March | 3AM Talks Masterlist | @anyfandomaubingo | Neighbor!Reader Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | Girl/Boy Next Door Masterlist | @fandombingo | "I don't know how to be in a relationship." / "Good, that makes two of us." Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Best friends to lovers Masterlist | @sebastianstanbingo | Birthday Gifts

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Header: Yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky never particularly cared for his birthday, but that changed when he met you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor who moved in next to his apartment almost five years ago. He used to be a recluse, preferring the company of Alpine, his cat, but something about you made him want to open up and let you into his life.

Now that you had melted his heart and broken down the walls he had built, he found himself looking forward to seeing you. He even dared to say he looks forward to celebrating his birthday because he knows that you will make him the type of cupcake he loves.

It's just after dinner, and he finds himself on his couch, Alpine purring on his lap as he pets her and tells her about his evening plans.

"I'm going to the club later, can you believe it? I never would have even considered it a few years ago, but when Y/N asked me, I didn't even think twice about it," he says with a small smile, shaking his head gently at the thought of you asking him to the club a few weeks ago. He could not say no to you, especially with his major crush on you.

Alpine meows when she hears your name because when you and Bucky got to know each other, you have also fallen in love with her. She's the reason you two even met. The day you first moved in, Bucky went to check his mail on a beautiful summer evening, and Alpine escaped before he could stop her.

She wandered carelessly into your apartment with a loud meow, pulling your attention away from the box you were unpacking. A white, fluffy cat with the brightest blue eyes you have ever seen stood in front of you, and right behind her was the most beautiful, albeit broody-looking man you've ever seen.

"Alpine! What do you think you're doing wandering into this lady's apartment?!" he told the cat, and you couldn't help but chuckle as she meowed loudly when he picked her up.

"I'm sorry," he said, and you smiled warmly at him. Deep inside, you were enjoying the stark difference between the dark-haired, broad-shouldered man and the beautiful white cat in his arms, but they seemed to fit together perfectly as if they were made for one another.

"It's okay; I like cats, especially when they bring along men like you!" you said confidently, and Bucky couldn't help but blush deeply after your comment. Before you could introduce yourself, he turned around and quickly returned to his apartment; the mail he was supposed to pick up had been long forgotten. From that moment on, you were the topic of most thoughts.

Over time, Bucky has slowly accepted you into his life, and being with you has brightened some of the darkest moments of his life. After Steve returned to be with Peggy, Bucky struggled a lot. From horrible nightmares to sleepless nights, he has been through everything. But you always seem to bring a bit of lightness wherever you go, including in Bucky's life.

Nowadays, he is generally a lot happier, but it's even more noticeable when you're in his presence; he carries himself with more confidence. Instead of hiding away all the time, he doesn't mind being seen when you're by his side. You gave him back the self-confidence he'd lost all those years ago, and he will always be thankful for that.

Before he can think about all that too hard, though, he hears a knock on the door and tucks Alpine under his arm before he opens it. He can see you standing there through the peephole and quickly swings open the door to let you in.

You're standing in front of him in a tight, knee-length dress, black heels, and lipstick that perfectly matches the color of your dress. The rest of your makeup is light, and your hair is pulled into a bun with braids to complete your outfit. His gaze lowers to the cupcake in your hand, a candle burning.

"Happy birthday, Bucky! Make a wish!" you tell him in a cheerful voice. With a smirk, he leans down to blow out the candle on the cupcake you're holding, though he already knows what he'll wish for. Each year, he wishes for the same thing: that you become his. This year may be the year for it to come true.

"I got you something special for your birthday this year. It's not every day you turn 107 years old, after all," you tell him, and he can't help but laugh. The fact that he's this old has never bothered you, and he's thankful for that.

The first time you ran into him on his birthday and asked how he was, he couldn't help but tell you it was his birthday. He still remembers how your eyes widened at his words and how you showed up later that afternoon with a book you had recently read.

Your shared love for reading is one of many things you two have in common, so you have developed the tradition of buying books for special occasions. The moment he tore the paper away from the first book you ever gifted him, he knew he would love it no matter what because it came from you.

You found an extra special one this year, though, and you've been dying to see his reaction since you acquired it. It is wrapped in shiny, black wrapping paper with a gold ribbon.

With quick movements, he unwraps his present, and an almost pristine first edition of The Hobbit is lying in his hands. It is the same book he read when it first came out and one he never thought he would see again.

"Why don't you open it up?" you urge him, and he does. Inside are the words he never thought he would see again, and he can't help but get choked up at the sight of them.

'Happy Birthday, jerk' is scribbled at the front of the book, and Bucky knows instantly that it's the version Steve has worked hard to buy him. Tears gather in his eyes as his fingers glide over the words, and he feels deeply thankful for this present.

"W-where—How-?" is all he can manage to choke out before you step forward and wrap your arms around him. He melts into your touch as your cheek is pressed against his chest, and soft kisses are placed on your head as his way of saying thank you.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until you feel Alpine's soft fur against your bare legs, making you chuckle before releasing him and bending down to give her some love. Not long after, it's finally time to go to the club where you are supposed to meet the other Avengers, and Bucky calls the two of you a cab to take you there, saving you two the hassle of NYC parking.

"Are you ready to go in, Doll?" Bucky asks after helping you out of the cab and paying the driver. You nod as you go into the club, which is still relatively empty. It's still early in the night as you go and find a booth, and the rest of the Avengers will join later. As you slide into it, you look around to observe the room, but your eye eventually falls on Bucky standing at the bar.

He looks back at you with a wink as he orders your drinks, even though he can't get drunk. Despite that, he still enjoys the taste of it, so he usually orders a beer or two. It doesn't take long for him to join you in your booth, sliding in so he's sitting right next to you, and your thighs are almost touching.

"Thank you for inviting me, Doll. These evenings are a lot more bearable now that you're with me," he says, and you give him a smile before taking a sip of your drink.

"I'm glad to hear that because I know they're a lot more bearable for me when you're here," you say, and he blushes under the scruff lining his cheeks. The pink tint has the butterflies in your stomach going wild, but most of the other Avengers are arriving before you can say anything else.

Tony arrives at your table first, closely followed by Natasha, Wanda, Sam, and Clint. The two of you slide out of the booth to greet everyone, and the three men go to sit on one side while you, Natasha, and Wanda sit on the other side. Luckily, you're still seated across from Bucky during all this.

The conversation during the night's first half is light and pleasant, but the more drinks flowing, the looser everyone becomes. Combined with the number of people slowly filling the club, the atmosphere is starting to get much more enjoyable. You're just about to take a sip of your third drink of the evening when Natasha and Wanda practically pull you out of the booth, begging you to dance with them.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" you tell them with a broad smile that doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky. Seeing you getting along so well with his friends fills him with happiness, and no one can wipe off the smile adorning his face. He also knows that if Steve were here with all of you, he would have loved you, too.

The entire time you're on the dancefloor, Bucky's eyes are glued to you. From the way your hips move effortlessly to the excitement on your face, and from the way the sweat drips down your neck and into the valley of your breasts to the way your dress seems to ride up just enough to show a bit more skin, he notices it all.

"Why don't you go over there and dance with her? It's almost creepy when you're staring at her, man!" Sam says with a push against his metal arm.

"I'm pretty sure she's doing just fine with Nat and Wanda over there," he says, looking at Sam grumpily. However, you seem to have gotten the same idea as you return to the booth.

"Dance with me, Bucky! C'mon!" you say, and of course, the man cannot say no to you. Bucky shoots Sam a dirty look before turning to you, sliding out of the booth, and taking your hand. The music has a nice thumping bass, and Bucky allows himself to get lost in it and in the moves your body makes.

While you were dancing side by side at first, it eventually migrated to the point where you're grinding against him, his bulge pressing against your ass while his fingers are digging into your hips. The tension between you two has been building for a long time, and relieving some of it right now feels good.

After dancing like this for a while, you turn to face Bucky, and he can see the way you're enjoying yourself. From the flush on your cheeks to the smile adorning your face, you're looking perfect, and Bucky has to stop himself from kissing you right now. It's not that he doesn't want to do it, but if he goes down that path with you, he wants to do it right.

"Shall we go outside for a moment?" you ask him, and he nods. You lead him out, the cool air feeling pleasant against your skin.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Doll?" he asks you, though he already knows the answer. Clearly, you're enjoying yourself, but he still wants to hear you say it.

"I am, but there's a reason I asked you out here. Away from everyone else's ears," you tell him, his curiosity piqued. He raises a brow as he looks at you, your lip pulled between your teeth as you muster up the courage to finally tell him what's on your mind. You've gotten this far, so now you have to pull through.

"The past few years with you have been amazing, Bucky, but I have noticed that something... changed," you say after a short moment. As soon as those words leave your mouth, Bucky's brows furrow, but you're quick to ease the thoughts in his head.

"I mean to say I'm in love with you, Bucky. I'm not sure when or how it happened, but it has. I understand if you don't feel the same about me, but I've been thinking about this for almost a year now-" is all you get to say before he pulls you against his chest as he dips down to capture your lips with his.

It's a soft, sweet kiss that has you melting into his touch, and neither of you wants it to end. When the need for air eventually takes over your brain, you hesitantly pull away, though your foreheads are still connected as you gaze into Bucky's bright blue eyes.

"I'm in love with you too, Doll, but I have another confession. I don't know how to be in a relationship," he says softly, and you smile at his confession.

"Good, that makes two of us. But if you want to, I want to figure it out together. Something about being with you feels right, and I want to explore it with you if you're open to it," you say, and he nods.

"I'd love nothing more, Doll," he says before he leans down and kisses you again, your head tilting slightly to the side as he does. All four other Avengers are whooping in excitement as the two of you kiss, but you don't care. All you can think about is Bucky and how his lips feel on yours.

"Finally, it took you guys long enough!" Tony says before everyone congratulates the two of you. Before you go back inside, Bucky grabs his phone from his pocket, and when he notices the time, he can't help but smile.

"Y'know what, Doll, out of all the 3 AM talks we've shared over the years, this is my favorite," he says as he shows you the time. You have stayed up with him during his nightmares or sleepless nights countless times, but you cannot agree more. This one is definitely your favorite.

"Happy birthday, Bucky," you tell him before pulling him in for a last kiss. Afterward, you go back inside, and all of you dance until the sun rises again, and it's time to go home. Bucky may have celebrated many birthdays in his life, but not a single one will ever top this one. There's no greater gift than hearing you confess your love for him, after all.

[nickfowlerrr]

darling, it's cold outside.

pairing: charles blackwood x curvy!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. not foot fetish stuff but he does remove her heels for her? lol. pining. little bit of holiday blues mentioned but overall this is pretty fluffy. maybe like the littlest bit soft!dark if you squint.

notes: very happy to be writing for charles again, i've missed him. 🥹

inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated. ❣️

"Mr. Blackwood," you call out as you walk down the empty hallway, your heels clacking on the marble flooring as you go, "I remade the guest bedroom like you asked. If there's nothing else for tonight, I was going to be heading home?"

You look into his open office as you pass, he's not there. Curious...

You continue down the hall, peeking into the study, then the tea room, and then the living room - none of which held him. The television in the living room was on, however, so you assumed he must be close by. But where?

Normally you find it difficult to get more than a few minutes alone from him when you're working, but now the man of the house is as elusive as your holiday spirit seems to be this year.

The pitter patter of the rain outside the castle captures your attention as you pass the grand window.

"Oh no," you sigh as you peer out into the dreary scene. The Christmas lights strung up outside appear blurry through the rain droplets on the glass as the sky grows darker with each moment that passes.

You were supposed to be out of here by 3pm, but Charles, for the first time since you'd started working for him, had many a qualm about your cleaning and tidyings today. You had to go over the bathrooms twice and were instructed to remake his bed before reattending to the guest room. It was nearing 5:30 now, and the rain you were hoping to avoid has clearly already begun - and if the weatherman was correct - would be staying long through the night.

It's not a terribly long walk home, but in your uniform, having to walk home in the rain is a less than ideal situation.

But you resign yourself to your fate as you turn from the window and continue on your search for your boss.

"Mr. Blackwood," you call again, "I'm about to be heading home."

As you finish your sentence, crossing in front of the lavish cranberry colored couch, you notice the throw blanket you had folded and put away earlier is now adorning the cushions. You think to check by the linen closet on the other side of the staircase - hoping to find him somewhere over there so he may dismiss you for the night.

You are about to leave the room when suddenly you hear the kettle whistle sharply from the kitchen. Your brows knit together as you stop in your tracks and turn back around to go toward the kitchen instead.

The sound of your heels as you walk informs Charles of your presence as you enter the room. He turns from the stove, having just moved the kettle from one burner to the other, and looks surprised to see you.

"Oh," he said, nonplussed, "you're still here?" His brow was raised as he looked at you.

You felt stumped yourself, standing blankly for a moment before blinking away your confusion. "Yes, I- I just finished remaking the guest bedroom like you asked," you stammered just slightly.

"Oh, perfect. Thank you. You really are an angel, you know that?" he praised, smiling that ever charming smile at you.

You couldn't help but return one of your own, eyes flicking down almost immediately, unable to hold his gaze.

You sucked in a breath, schooling your face as you looked back up. "Did you want to check it over?"

"No," he brushed off with a shake of his head, turning back to open the cabinet behind him, "I'm sure everything is in order. I trust you."

Your lips twitch as you hold back a disbelieving laugh. He seemed so concerned earlier...

"Alright. Well, if that's everything, Mr. Blackwood-"

"Charles," he corrects.

"...Charles," you amend, "if that was all, I was planning on heading out for the night."

"Of course," he agrees, turning to face you once again, with two mugs in his hands. "Do you have time for some hot chocolate, or will your ride be here soon?"

"Oh, I don't have a ride," you hide a grimace at the reminder of your lonesomeness. Well...maybe you could call a cab? But no, that short ride would just feel like a waste of your hard earned money. And anyway, Charles knows you walk to and from. He's chided you on it before. You'll never forget the way you warmed at his concern for you that first time. He had offered you a ride home, but you refused. It was a clear evening and there really was no reason for any fuss. But of course, his worry still made your heart flutter.

The mugs clink as they're set down on the counter, the sound brining you back to the room. "Sweetheart, it's raining. Supposed to only pick up, too. If you were planning on walking, I don't think that'd be a good idea."

The pet name has butterflies taking flight in your tummy as you work to tamp them down.

"It's not that far of a walk, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I must insist that you stay," he presses, your name sounding so nicely on his tongue. "Please. I would offer you a ride myself but I'm afraid my headlight blew out, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. The guest room would be yours and I could drive you home in the morning. Or, if you insist, the weather should be fairer by then - enough to walk if you really want."

"Oh, really, I would hate to inconvenience you, sir."

"Not at all," he assures you as he prepares both mugs of coco. "In fact, I think it'd be nice to have some company for the holiday. In a house this big, being alone can feel rather lonely."

You consider his words and can't help but agree. "It can feel much the same in a small home, too," you say with a bittersweet smile. "If you really don't mind, I'd be thankful to stay."

"And I'd be thankful for the company," he smiles back. "I was about to start a movie."

You trail behind him slowly as he leads the way back to the living room. When you get to the couch, he sets both mugs down on the coffee table as he gestures for you to sit.

"Please, get comfortable. You've been on your feet all day."

You don't argue and take your seat. The couch is as comfortable as it always looks and you can't help but sigh as you relish the feeling. You almost instinctively kick off your heels, but stop yourself right in time. Charles notices the twitch of your feet, however.

You hold in a gasp as he kneels down before you and takes hold of your foot. His eyes flash up to yours as you stare down at him, lips parted and breath stalled. He slips your heel off and squeezes your foot lightly before repeating the same to your other foot. No words are exchanged as he pops back up and walks to the television. He pushes a tape into the player before sauntering back over to you.

You want to lift a leg up underneath you but don't allow yourself to, especially not while you're in this skirt. Charles takes the spot beside you and you somehow go even more rigid at his proximity.

"I said get comfortable, darling," he chides, pulling you in closer to him, "I meant it."

You allow yourself to fall into his side, and then after a long second, slowly bring a leg up to get more comfortable beside him. Another long moment, and you bring your other leg up as well, repositioning yourself while you shimmy the littlest bit closer.

Charles is warm and the room is a bit cold, so you don't mind how close he actually is. Maybe more aptly, how close you are to him...

You try to focus on the opening scene of the holiday movie you've only heard of before, never actually having had the chance to see it. But as Charles leans over and grabs the throw he'd brought out earlier, he takes over your focus once again. He drapes the blanket over both of you before settling back, essentially right against you now.

Your heart is beating so loud, you're almost sure he can hear it if he listens close enough.

Charles wraps his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively scoot closer still, letting your head rest on his chest trepidatiously. He hums his approval as you do.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly, keeping the cozy and comfortable ambience in tact.

You're quiet, unsure of what to say. Does it feel okay? It feels like everything you've dreamed of since meeting the man. But is it okay? That you're not so sure of. Are you crossing a line? Is this a mistake?... Oh god, what are you doing? You can't lose this job!

You push yourself to sit up, pulling away from Charles as he looks at you, stunned by your haste.

"I- I'm so sorry, Mr. Blackwood. I don't know what's come over me. I should, I should go," you rush your words as you try to stand.

Try.

Charles' hand is on you in an instant, keeping you in place. You look at him with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. He says your name and you don't think to try and get up again.

"Darling, I don't know what you're apologizing for. If I've made you uncomfortable, I should be apologizing to you," he says. "...Have I? Made you uncomfortable?"

You stare into the hypnotic gaze of his cerulean blue eyes, taking in his words. It's a moment before you softly shake your head. "No," you nearly whisper. "No, you haven't." He nods, admiring your face as you peer at him.

"That's good. And, it's Ch-"

"Charles," you cut him off. "I know. Habit," you shrug lightly.

"One you'll hopefully come to break," he smirks. "So, back to my question," he pulls you closer, "Was that okay? Being that close to me?"

You nod meekly, "Yes."

"And was it okay that I put my arm around you?"

Another weak murmur as you unconsciously lean into him, "Yes."

"And just to be sure," he breathes, leaning closer into you in return, "do you really want to leave?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you shake your head. "No."

"One last question," he says as he brings a hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately as he urges you closer. You're nose to nose as he continues, "Would it be okay if I kissed you now?"

You smile softly, your lips brush his as you answer him. "Yes," you nod.

He pulls you in gently and your hand holds his to your face as he finally kisses you, so softly you swear you could melt into the cushions.

You murmur again into the kiss as your eyelids flutter shut. Without thinking, you deepen the kiss. You find your body moving without your permission as you pull yourself more into him - almost crawling along the cushions to get closer to him.

Charles doesn't stop you, in fact, he leans back further - pulling you along the way, moving you up his lap.

Your skirt stretches across your thick thighs as you are maneuvered by him onto his lap. You straddle him as his arms come around you, pulling you to be flush against him - his lips never stopping as he kisses you so completely, so passionately. The intensity only grows more fervent as you return the desire in kind.

You mindlessly move your hips against his and he moans at the feeling. The sound of his pleasure is music to your ears and serves to get you even more worked up. You can feel the slickness as it grows between your thighs. And as you rock your hips again, you can feel Charles' excitement, too.

He is hard beneath you, his erection growing more and more prominent with each second.

"Mhm," you mewl against his lips, breaking for a breath, "Charles," you sigh - rocking once more. The friction sending a wave of sparking pleasure through you.

"Does that feel good for you, angel?" he asks, hands grabbing your hips.

You nod helplessly, "Feels so good."

He kisses you again, harder this time as he holds you in place on his lap. "I know what would feel even better," he says huskily.

He reaches for the button of his slacks and you bite your lip, a few nerves building now. You pull away from him ever so slightly as he begins to undo his pants.

"Um, Charles," you nearly whisper, waiting for a response you don't get.

You watch with heavy lidded eyes and parted, pouted lips as he pulls his straining cock from his briefs. You almost feel frozen for a second before one of his hands comes up and buries itself between your thighs. You yelp, squeaking at the touch.

"Charles, I don't know if we should-"

"Oh, sweetheart, don't worry," he hushes you. You gasp with a tremble and a light moan as his deft fingers slide up and along your clothed sex. You tilt your hips as he feels along your cunt and don't stop him when he moves your underwear to the side.

His eyes are trained on your face, he watches as it contorts with the beginning sparks of your pleasure under his touch. His dick is throbbing, on the verge of starting to leak for you.

He can't wait any longer, he's waited so long already. He needs to have you around him. Needs to feel your warmth envelope him and your weight as you sit on him. He doesn't even need to go all the way with you - not tonight. He just wants to feel you.

His tongue slips past his pillowy lips as he grips himself with one hand, guiding his red tip to your tight, slick entrance. He presses against you but you slightly back away - still unsure.

"I just want to feel you, angel. That's all. I promise. Just need you to sit down and that'll be it. Just sit right here and keep me warm for a bit. You can do that, can't you, darling?"

A sigh of relief escapes you as you slacken a bit into him. You can do that, you decide. You nod your head and bring one of your hands to his shoulders. He presses against you again and this time you move into him. You whine at the sting of his intrusion as he helps ease you down onto his length a little at a time. When you are fully seated, you drop your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands rubs your back.

"Fuck, doesn't that feel nice?" he asks, voice breathy. You only nod against him as your walls stretch around his cock, squeezing him every so often.

"Yes," you huff, "Oh, it feels so nice, Charles."

He pulls you from his neck, brushing his nose against yours as he brings you face to face with him again.

"I knew we'd be a perfect fit," he smirks, kissing you hotly as you press yourself closer to him, returning his kiss.

"I said the guest room was yours, but there's room enough for two in my bed if you'd rather," he simpers.

"I think I just might rather," you whisper with a smile against his lips. You move to sit up but are immediately pulled back down onto his cock. You moan deeply at the movement, the drag of his length along your walls and the way your walls work to keep him inside of you. To be fair, you aren't the most experienced woman in the world, but the feeling of him is unlike anything you've ever felt before. You are entirely full of him and you fear you won't want to ever go empty again.

"Not just yet, sweetheart," he laughs, holding you down. "We aren't even halfway through the movie yet. And we have all night before we take this upstairs, angel. I want to make sure this is a Christmas we'll always remember."

[blkgirl-writing]

Refuge for the Wicked

"Sharing a Blanket" from flufftober (In march)

Gale Dekarios x Durge!reader

Summary: You can't escape the faded memories of your haunted past, and sleep is nothing but a nightmare. Gale can't seem to sleep either. Maybe some extra warmth will help.

A/N: Prompt from @flufftober

(spring), I started late so I just started on 6! I might go back and write the first few. Also writing alongside my wonderful friend @ficbrish who made this fic happen, thank you! Also thanks to Jane Eyre for being my background audiobook and reminding me of big words.

TW: Dark Urge reader, (vague morbid thoughts, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of anxiety attacks), fluffy overall dw.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

In the dead of night, when the fireflies and stars lit up the sky, the air was too quiet to stand. Your head buzzed like frantic bees in a fallen hive, trying everything to get out, the brutal bloodied images flashing across your vision. No refuge for the wicked, You'd told yourself over and over, when sleep couldn't take you. But, You had been proven wrong.

Gale hadn't had the best rest either, used to the comforts of his tower, his warm tressym on his lap, and endless books to ease his mind into sleep. He had seen you turning in your sleep, and laid a gentle hand on your shoulder, whispering an invitation to his own tent. You had refused, worried about your cruel hands during slumber. but gods above, any sound had to be better than bitter silence, and one thing you knew about Gale, was that there would never be stale air.

It became pattern, after a few nights. The others would sleep, and you'd sneak away to his cozy corner, and Gale would talk. About anything, really. Gale shared his fondest memories, read a chapter from his small stash of literature, and even teach you a few simple spells. Your favorite was when he'd recite the most romantic poems. They felt warm, somehow. stirring something deep within you. Those nights, you'd rest peacefully, no dreams or nightmares, just darkness. Gale's voice became the only comfort in your world. And even nights he could sleep effortlessly, you found yourself wandering into his tent, curled up in the opposite corner from him.

This night, however, neither of you could sleep, and yet there was still quiet. It felt like hours,

"It's certainly cold tonight," Gale muttered.

"I can start another fire closer?" You offered.

"No no no, let me." At a snap of his fingers, a flame appeared in the dirt just in front of his tent. Never wavering and never moving, just taking the edge off the nipping air.

A few more moments passed, and you tucked your knees to your chest, hands cupped over your mouth to stop the numbness from climbing further up your fingers.

"Come here, you're freezing to death," Gale pulled the blanket over, opening up a space for you right next to him. Maybe he saw your hesitation, or maybe he wanted you next to him just as much as you wanted him, but he outstretched his hand to yours, his soft but calloused fingers wrapping around your frozen ones, and ever so gently pulled you towards him. Knowing it wasn't just an empty offer was enough for you to settle into him, his arm wrapped carefully around your waist, your head nestled into his shoulder, and finally, warmth enveloping your body underneath his big, heavy blanket.

"Thank you." This...was nice.

"Any time." His fingers played with a loose thread on the blanket, just by your hip. "You're more than welcome to keep your things here."

"Oh," Was all you managed, eyes fluttering away from his face for a moment. this closeness was something to be afraid of, you knew deep down you were supposed to be alone. But in his arms, you felt a calmness that you'd never known before. But you felt like you didn't deserve that bliss. "I don't need a tent or anything."

"I'm very sure you could manage on your own, but you don't have to." Gale spoke softly, almost like he was telling a secret, a small smile forming"You've spoiled me, I can't quite sleep right without you next to me."

You blinked, staring into the flicker of the fire before you. All you could think about was the soft fabric on your skin, so opposite from the biting that ran through your blood, and the warmth he brought from his touch, his body comforting and steady against yours. "Are you saying you miss me, Gale?"

"Quite a bit, actually." You could feel his eyes on you, but you hadn't dared to look, not yet. You knew there was kindness in his stare, it sent shivers down your spine, a sign that you didn't deserve the caring offer he implied, asked of. Your body rejected that but gods above did you want nothing but it. Because with him, Your mind was free, heart full, body light.

"I would really love that." You replied. Finally, a smile, from happiness, and not morbidity. You leaned further into him, intertwining your legs with his, Gale resting his head on top of yours, placing a barely noticeable kiss on your forehead.

"I'm glad you spoke to me."

'Hm?" Gale spoke, voice low and gravely, clearly between the realm of wake and sleep.

"I'm glad, that you spoke to me, to come to your tent that night."

"Oh," Gale rolled further into you, getting more comfortable, "I wish I had sooner." and with that, he drifted into sleep, the fire extinguishing in a wisp. Leaving you to think about his words, and your thoughts. You truly did love, that he invited you once, and again to stay, and he really meant it.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

just before sunrise was when you silently awoke from more night terrors. Astarion still off in the woods, surely feeding. otherwise, everyone was sound asleep. Or so you thought.

You had a few minutes in your own thoughts, sitting up and staring blankly into the dim glow of the distant campfire. Gale, with his big heart and smart mouth, won you over, no denying it anymore. It was clear when your small respite of nightmares, dreams filled with him, almost fighting to keep you sane.

"Good morning." Gale leaned on his hand, looking at you with a groggy fondness, like you were the sunrise and sunset, beautiful and full of life. His eyes nearly glimmered when he looked at you through his sleepy eyes.

"I thought you were asleep." You smiled, cozying back into the warm blanket, the cold morning air still too crisp, or you just used it as an excuse to be close to him again. And as if he read your thoughts, he drew you closer to him with a gentle touch.

"Stay" He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear, oh gods above his voice sounded like warm whiskey and the smoothness of turning new pages. "-please"

Well, there was no denying that. You couldn't pry yourself away from Gale. You held him tight, as if he'd wake up and realize his mistake, you had mistaken his words and actions and never felt this comfort again. His warm breath tickled your lower neck, his head on your chest, eyes barely open, but fixated on you. under the blanket, shielded from the light of the day, heavy eyes not daring to look away from his.

He smiled. A soft smile, but full of light. His lips were slightly chapped, eyes tinted red, details you missed upon his face at a distance, now fully on display as you tilted down. lips inches from his.

Your eyes flickered closed as he sank further into you. Gale enveloped you, body and soul, connecting in a sleepy haze, melting into a kiss. Only stopping for air, a mumbled word, and another kiss. Countless kisses, ending in peaceful slumber.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

TAGLIST

Please reach out if you wish to be added!!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

What If?

Prompt Day 15: Time Travel | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Mentions of Other Relationship | Tags: Time Travel, Fix-It, Second Chance, El is Meddling, Eddie POV

Eddie is sitting alone in his spare bedroom that he turned into a music room, long ago. He fiddles with his guitar, but he's lonely. He thought he'd have more time to make his feelings known. More time to get his shit together, but now forty years have gone by, and he's all alone. His friends grew up and moved on.

Steve moved on.

They're all still friends, sure, but Eddie thinks of himself kind of as the always single, loner uncle that shows up at holidays. He's a little like Wayne, honestly. That makes Eddie smile, even if he has regrets about how he closed himself off from everyone after everything that happened in the Upside Down.

How he closed himself off from Steve.

Steve had been by his side, with a look in his eyes that scared Eddie. Eddie didn't want that kind of responsibility. He couldn't even take care of himself, how was he supposed to take care of Steve's heart? Impossible.

So, Eddie had pretended not to see the looks, or feel the slight touches. He ignored Steve's small advances, like they weren't even happening. 

And, eventually, Steve stopped trying. He met a girl who became his wife, and everything worked out for the best. 

Eddie doesn't resent Steve for getting on with his life, for going after what he wanted. A wife. Kids. Eddie gets the postcards, the emails with pictures attached. It's all cookie-cutter perfect. Right down to the fluffy dog.

Eddie ran from his feelings, had locked them down tight, so he has no right to be mad. 

But he wishes…

Sometimes, he wishes and wonders: what if?

Eddie goes to bed alone, and falls asleep alone.

When he wakes up, suddenly startled, he's not alone at all. 

It looks like Dustin, sitting on the edge of the bed. Only, not the current Dustin. No, this is the Dustin from then, from before.

Eddie reaches for his glasses, to pull everything into focus, yanking on the light chain for good measure. And sure enough, sitting there looking at him, is Dustin. About twenty years old, in a disheveled dress shirt, tie and slacks. 

Eddie recognizes the outfit, because he's seen it in pictures a lot over the years. This is what Dustin wore to Steve's wedding, as one of the groomsmen. Steve's best man. 

"I'm dreaming," Eddie says, because that's the only explanation.

"You're not," Dustin says, "but I might be?"

"You're not," Eddie echoes. And if he's not dreaming, and Dustin's not dreaming…

"How'd you get here?" Eddie asks.

"I was talking to El about how dumb you two had been, and now I'm sitting on the edge of your bed. And you're old."

"I'm not that old, you little shithead," Eddie says, and Dustin turns and grins.

"At least you're still you, I guess," Dustin answers, but he looks on the verge of tears.

"You were at Steve's wedding, right?" Eddie asks, and Dustin nods. 

He had to be. That was the moment this timeline really shifted. Eddie had run out of chances, and Steve was lost to him for good that day.

Eddie sits up straighter, "Did El send you into the goddamn future to fuck with me?"

Dustin shrugs, "I think so. She told me to talk some sense into you, and if I succeeded, she'd bring me back. She was drunk. We all were. Still am. I thought she was kidding. I didn't even know she could do that. Time travel? She never mentioned time travel being in her bag of tricks."

Eddie laughs, that woman is never to be trifled with. Not then, not now. There must be no limit to the powers she can harness. Eddie reaches for his cell phone, finds her number and dials.

"Yeah, you sent me a present?" Eddie says.

"I did what?" she asks, clearly drowsy on the other end of the line.

"Dustin. From Steve's wedding. He's here and I need you to send him home," Eddie says, and isn't this just a stupid situation to find himself in on a random Tuesday.

"Oh, I forgot about that," she says, and there's a long pause, "has he talked some sense into you yet?"

"No! He's drunk, freaked out, and he wants to go home."

"Only if you agree to go back with him and get it right this time."

Eddie laughs, bordering on hysterical, "I'm not going back to Steve's wedding and objecting like some sort of asshole. He has children, El. I'm not risking taking his kids away from him!"

"Oh, none of this is real," she says, as easy as she'd give him the time.

"That's impossible," he says.

"Really not," she insists, "and you cannot go back to the wedding. You need to go further. To right after Vecna."

Eddie thinks this is crazy, impossible. But he finds himself nodding. Okay. Why not? If she's right, he gets a second chance. And if this is all a dream, he'll just wake up in the morning and get a good laugh.

"Okay, send us back," he answers, then hurries to add, like she's some sort of trickster instead of just El, "After! Make sure it's after! I'm not getting attacked by bats again. Not even for Steve."

He can nearly hear her eyeroll over the phone.

"Yes. After. Get a hold of Dustin's hand, he is the one I can move, not you," she says, and Eddie reluctantly does it. Takes both of them, just to be safe. 

And then there's an unpleasant yanking sensation, and when he regains his bearings, he's in a hospital bed.

Steve Harrington at his side. 

Steve's young, only nineteen. And he's looking at Eddie with those eyes that he used to use on Eddie for a long time before finally giving up, moving on.

"Hi," Eddie says, giving him the eyes right back.

This time when Steve reaches for his hand, Eddie grabs on, and doesn't let go. 

Being brave.

Not running.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ⏳

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[potol0ver]

Howdy pardner 🤠🐴

You said you were begging for a request for Erik to worship someone. I don’t know if you’re doing specific requests, but here’s one if you’re up for it:

Musical!Erik x Y/N

Erik had a really rough day dealing with the manager’s bullshit or smthn like that. Y/N comes down to visit him, and sees how upset he is. They ask what they can do to help him, and after collecting himself, he half-smiles.

“You can let me admire you~” He then proceeds to thoroughly kiss and praise and tease Y/N (consensually) as a stress-reliever and a way to redirect his emotions.

#LetThisManGetWhippedForHisS/O

- Yeehaw Anon 🐴

OH HELL YES- i love this idea. Also im leaving this one open ended at the end to keep it GN, don’t worry i have a smut prompt waiting for me to write it so if you want direct smut it’ll be out sometime this week most likely <3

Tags; Soft dom Erik x GN Reader, suggestive towards the end, fluffy, simi smut, Erik being obsessed with you, chest play (not said to have boobs though), short and sweet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of Erik’s organ rang through the catacombs as you walked down to his lair. You knew the rehearsal went wrong but you didn’t expect it to go so wrong he’d be hitting his organ keys this hard. Breathing in and sighing you finally made it to Erik’s abode and well… he looked pissed. His wig and mask were off, and playing the organ while standing.

Walking closer you practically tell his name so he could hear you. Once he did hear you he whipped his head towards you with an angry expression that quickly softened seeing you there. Defeated he plopped down on his organs bench and placed his head in his hands.

“You have no idea how bad today went,” he said with a slight roughness to his voice, almost like his voice was sore from yelling, “Carlotta wouldn’t take the advice from the conductor, and by doing that sabotaging the rehearsal,” you stood beside him now placing a hand in his back as he ranted, “the ballet dancers were supposed to try out a new routine but since Madame Giry had family matters to attend to the ballet dancers looked like they had two left feet, and the prop people were too drunk to do anything on cue, it was a shit show.”

Holding back a laugh at his word choice, you just sigh and console him. “That truly does sound like a shit show, I'm sorry that happened my love. Especially Carlotta, my spine has chills just thinking about what she sounded like, and not in a good way.” Erik gives a slight chuckle as you sit on the bench next to him. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Sitting up Erik looked at you with eyes and asked “Can we snuggle please?”

“Of course my love,” quickly standing up you lead Erik by his hand to the bed. Once you got to the bed you laid down, he followed by climbing in next to you and holding you close burying his face into your neck. Slowly rubbing circles unto his back he slowly started to melt into you, finally relaxing.

You were about to fall asleep when he started to kiss your neck. “Erik, you should be relaxing.”

“Please, I need to worship you right now,” he begged into your neck as he started to put his hands under your clothes. Given you always got flustered when he paid attention to you like this, you could only muster up a nod. Soon enough his hands started to undo your clothing, all while his kisses on your neck never stopped.

Once your chest was exposed fully to him, he gently started to massage your chest. You couldn't help but let out some small whines as Erik kissed his way down to your nipple and popped it into his mouth. Gently rolling it with his tongue, his hands worked on getting your lower half naked too.

Once your whole body was exposed to him, Erik just gently ghosted his hands over your thighs to your waist and back down again. As much as you loved this you needed more, your hips slightly rolled trying to gain any friction they can. “Please Erik, stop teasing me.”

“No no, please, please let me bask in you. You feel divine.” he whined against your chest, barely letting your nipple go when he begged. You could tell tonight was going to be a long night for you.

[thepenultimateword]

Would you do a continuation of short prompt 42? With the supervillain and villain and kid hero? I come with gift 🍿🍿

Part One

Villain leaned back in the kitchen chair, sharpening the blade of their knife with long, careful strokes. Rain pattered on the windowpanes, and the vague remains of steam in the air made the kitchen feel warm and cozy. It would have been nicer without the snakelet lying in the other room.

That little menace better not wake up.

Villain tapped their foot evenly against the floor and checked the wall clock for probably the third time since Supervillain went out, about an hour ago now.

“Will you just be nice to them when they wake up?" they'd requested. Then, at Villain's annoyed brow raise, "Not...nice, but at least civil? I have a meeting with Other Supervillain, and I don't want them scared off while I'm gone."

“You’re leaving?” Villlain hated the little note of panic edging in on their voice. This was a baby hero after all. Nothing they couldn't handle. It was an insult to their own skills to be so worried.

Of course, Supervillain caught it, and of course, instead of pointing out the silliness, they indulged it. “Do you want to come with me? I suppose we could leave a note.”

Villain's stomach coiled.

“I’m not leaving them alone in my home. I’ll stay.”

And so they had. Stubbornly. Bitterly. Anxiously.

There was just something about having an enemy in their safe space that made the thought of facing them so much worse. It would have been different running into them mid-heist or out on the street.

They rechecked the clock. Minute hand on the 3. An hour and fifteen minutes. Supervillain must be walking back by now, right? Did they remember their umbrella? That rain looked like it was picking up.

“Hi.”

Villain's whetstone slipped.

A horrible grating sound broke the smooth, monotony, and Villain''s arm narrowly escaped being sliced open along the knife's edge only to bash the rounded stone directly into their knee a second later.

Villain yowled, cursing loudly.

"Sorry!" Hero held up their hands in an apologizing-warding motion. Their hair was pasted flat on one side, while the top poofed up in a mess of fluffy tangled curls. "That's my bad."

The villain only responded with a vicious glare, and the little hero winced. At least that was a little satisfying.

Hero swallowed, wetting their lips and curling their fingers in and out of their palms for a couple seconds before carefully pushing on.

"Where's...um..."

"They went out. Villain stuff."

"Right. Of course. That's their job. Your job. Your jobs."

Awkward discomfort twisted their face in several directions, one part of them making an effort to be nonchalant and the other part panicking. Clearly, they hadn't thought through the type of person they were crashing with or how it involved them ethically when Supervillain invited them in.

"That it is," Villain said coldly.

Hero cleared their throat. "I really wasn't expecting...anyone else. Did Supervillain call you to watch me or...?"

"I live here."

"Oh. Oh! I'm sorry! I don't mean to crowd your space. It's just Supervillain said... And I was so tired... And they never mentioned..."

"Stop blathering. It's grating on my nerves."

Hero's mouth snapped shut with an audible clack.

Villain sighed, sliding their knife back into its sheath and striding stiffly across the room to tuck the whetstone back in its drawer. All the while, Hero's big, pathetic eyes watched them move, rising prickles on the back of their neck and being generally annoying.

"What?" Villain snapped.

"Nothing!" They paused. "Are you guys like…”

Hero didn’t seem to know how to finish that question, but their fingers twined together in some resemblance of togetherness.

“Yes.”

“Oh. Cool. I didn’t know that.”

They shoved their hands in their pockets and stared intently at the floor beneath their feet. It was subtle, but Villain noticed the tips of their ears going a light pink.

Minute hand on the 4 now.

Come on, Supervillain, where are you?

They didn’t know anything about entertaining kids , or talking to kids, or anything to do with kids. Especially not a super powered hero kid that could bend them in half with their pinky and may or may not be part of a bigger plot to take them down.

Hero raised their eyes nervously. Their cheeks were pink too. Villain was definitely paranoid, weren’t they?

Villain cleared they throat.

“Apparently, now that you’re awake, I’m supposed to direct you to the soup on the stove.” They motioned lazily to the covered pot and then waved at the cupboards. “Bowls are on the left.”

“Thank you.” Hero shuffled to find a bowl, and for the first time Villain noticed that they were wearing the blue and purple spandex of their Hero uniform.

“Why did you even come here?” Villain said.

Hero cringed, ladle hesitating over their bowl. “I didn’t know what else to do. It was cold, and I was tired, and the offer was right there, and…and…you guys are going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Villain blinked. Soup was spilling over the edges of the ladle. The kid was shivering. Were they more scared than they were letting on?

Villain tried to imagine being an abandoned kid taken in by their enemies. It was hard enough having one in their safe space as an adult.

“We’re not going to kill you,” Villain said. “Supervillain made you a whole stew. They think you’re adorable.”

Hero bit their lip and nodded, quickly finishing filling their bowl and sitting on the farthest end of the table. “I mean…I wasn’t worried at first, but…”

But Villain.

Yeah. They were lucky Hero was stout enough not to have run off by now. Supervillain would have kicked them to the couch.

“Don’t you think your agency will be upset? You’re not being very subtle.”

Hero followed Villain’s finger down to their costume.

“I, um, didn’t have a change of clothes. And they’re mad anyway, right? So…how much more bad can it get?”

They smiled weakly, but Villain knew forced calm when they saw it. Villain wouldn’t press that direction further.

“What happened to your clothes?” they asked instead.

“Well, they were in my dorm, but the agency froze my keycard, and they say I’m suspended from the premises so I can’t pick them up. I-I get it.”

“Over a few buildings?” Villain said in disbelief.

Maybe they said it little heatedly because Hero stared at them with surprise and tension written in their eyes.

“Well, those buildings cost the agency a big chunk of money, and I’m really lucky no one got hurt, so I really just should be thankful it’s only a suspension.”

“Is that what they told you?”

“It’s…it’s what I think.”

Oh really?

“Alright,” Villain shrugged. “You destroyed a lot of buildings. You maybe put people in danger. That’s not exactly recommended. At least from a hero’s standing. But come on, you tore an entire building from its foundation and threw it. Your agency has to at least appreciate your strength. It’s incredible.”

Hero averted their eyes to their soup. Maybe they were uncertain whether they should be accepting the compliment of a villain. “Thank you…”

Villain nodded.

Maybe they could buy them a couple new outfits. Just so they wouldn’t have nothing when they finally convinced Supervillain to turn them out.

As if on cue, the front door hinges squealed, and Supervillain’s confident stride sounded in the hall, pausing in the living room a moment before continuing on to the kitchen.

“Oh good!” Supervillain’s eyes sparked intensely, like a shock of lightning bolts in a blue blue sky. Their coat clung damp on their shoulders and a few strays locks pasted against their temples. “You two met!”

A load of tension Villain hadn’t even realized they’d been holding suddenly dropped from their shoulders.

“We’d already met,” they corrected.

“You know what I mean. How were they, Hero? Were they mean? Did they bully you?

Hero’s relief was almost just as obvious as Villain’s own, a small smile quirking their lip. “No. They were…nice.”

Supervillain’s eyebrows shot up, and they’re eyes tried to catch Villain’s gaze.

Nope. Villain wasn’t doing this. Time to redirect the conversation.

“How was the meeting?”

Supervillain slid into the seat beside Villain, sprawling their legs and sliding halfway down the chair back. “Ugh. Boooring. Other Supervillain is way too direct. ‘Kill them.’ ‘Blow this up.’ There’s no showmanship!”

“You and Other Supervillain are having a team up?”

Villain and Supervillain turned toward Hero at the same time. The little scrap huddled a little closer to the tabletop. They looked like they wanted to disappear.

“Don’t you dare say—“ Villain began.

“You can tell the agency if you like,” Supervillain interrupted with a shrug. “It’ll make it more interesting.”

Hero’s eyes flicked nervously between the two of them. “I don’t have to if—“

“Hero.” It was the same tone Supervillain used on Villain when they were in one of their panics. Firm but warm. “Don’t worry about what you see or hear around us. You are safe here. No matter what.”

Villain held back a biting remark. They weren’t so sure about Supervillain’s promises, but that was probably something to discuss privately. At least the hero looked a little looser. But now they were looking at Villain like they were expecting an answer from them as well. What did the want from them? A hearty welcome and a slap on the back?

Villain cleared their throat. “Yeah. You’re…safe.”

Hero’s weak smile grew a little stronger, and Supervillain smirked.

Ugh, it wasn’t like it was a declaration of friendship or an acceptance for indefinite housing or anything like that.

It just…wasn’t a lie.

Part Three

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax

[thisismysecondrodeo]

Wrapped around your finger (Ted x Rebecca, Fluff, 2K) Prompt from @lilacmermaid25: "Keeley and Rebecca convince Roy and Ted and Beard to let them paint their nails." Didn't take much convincing One-shot.

If our love don't last, you can take all our photographs (Ted x Rebecca, Fluff, 4K) Rebecca sees a picture of a Young Ted and needs Keeley's help to say something about it. In chapter 2, Ted sees a picture of Young Rebecca. Just fluffy lil' hijinks.

You only have to love one (Ted x Roy, Angst, 5K) Roy and Ted are commiserating over the people they're missing. But imagine what's possible when they stop looking for other people and start looking for each other. One-shot.

Give the drummer some (Ted x Rebecca & Coach Beard x Sassy, Fluff, 4K) Sassy reveals that Rebecca has a thing for drummers Beard reveals that Ted used to be a drummer Schemes and fluff ensue

Have you seen Ted? (Ted x Rebecca, Humor/Crack, 1K) I just really wanted to use the "Ted Lasso's Canonically Huge Dick" tag and this...this is what happened. Journalists get a hold of a dick pic and sources say it belongs to "someone affiliated with AFC Richmond." Obviously, Keeley and Rebecca have to get to the bottom of it. One-shot.

Further from the truth (Ted x Rebecca, Angst, 2K) Everyone assumes Henry is well-adjusted and enough like his father that meeting Rebecca will be a piece of cake...until it's not. In fact, Henry being excited to meet Rebecca couldn't be further from the truth. One-shot.

Leave the door open (Ted x Rebecca, Coming Out, 3K) Rebecca is building a relationship with the team so she's happy to leave her door open to any and all players who want to talk...And it turns out Colin has something very important to say. or, Colin comes out to Rebecca and ONLY Rebecca. One-shot.

It only makes sense (Ted x Rebecca x Roy, Poly Romance, 11K) Ted goes on mental health leave which causes an issue with his immigration paperwork...and the easiest solution is to marry Roy? Somehow it only makes sense.

Under New Management (Ted x Rebecca, Baker/Chef AU, 2K) Prompt from @lilacmermaid25: An AU where Rebecca is a chef and Ted is a baker, and they eventually open a restaurant together.

Jake and Lainey (Ted x Rebecca, Fluff, 1K) Ted finds out Rebecca's favorite rom-com is Sleeping with Other People and he does NOT approve. This is better if you've seen Sleeping with Other People but I think it still works if you haven't

I Owe You One (Ted x Trent, Romance, 10K) A chance encounter between Ted and Trent turns into a series of favors between them and what is a series of favors if not just an extended courtship?

Make Rebecca Gay Again (Rebecca x Reader, Smut, 5K) Rebecca DOES sleep with a waiter in Liverpool…but this time it's you (fem!Reader). Canon Divergent 1 x 07 - Make Rebecca Great Again where “Making Rebecca Great Again” means reminding Rebecca Welton that she is, in fact, not straight.

Uncle Roy Said (Ted x Roy, Romance, 6K) Uncle Roy says a lot of things and Phoebe has a tendency to repeat them. Especially to Ted. And especially when those things are ABOUT Ted.

Three's Company (Ted x Roy x Reader, Smut, 5K) It's not YOUR fault that you didn't follow sports, so how were you supposed to know that the guy you'd casually been sleeping with was Roy Kent? And that the guy you'd had a meet-cute with at the local coffee shop was Ted Lasso?

Bicurious Not Judgemental (Ted x Coach Beard, AU, 1K) Ted is more than happy to be his best friend's bridesmaid, even if that means going to the local male strip club, Man City…

[wonderinc-sonic]

My Perfect Partner - Metamy Week Day 2

Amy Rose is an upcoming Popstar with an unusual partner: the most powerful A.I. robot, whose only task is to support her. They practice a new routine. (2.6k words)

Thank you to the Idol Amy AU comic that I enjoy very much, and also all of the other people throughout time who have made Amy a singer, I have loved and internalised every one. This is a bit of an experiment in terms of Metal's characteristics, as he has been made for a different purpose.

Metal Sonic's startup system whirred. The time was 01:47, he was in the dance studio, where last his records stated. Good. He didn't like being moved unconsciously.

This was not the approved hour for training, so his first order was to check for an emergency, but all he saw was the studio in low lights, and Amy Rose, wearing a cropped pyjama set, her hair in a scruffy ponytail, and toes in fluffy socks.

"What is the directive?" He asked, as he stepped out of his charging bay. Amy backstepped out the way, her hands behind her back.

"Sorry if I woke you, I wasn't sure if you were really asleep." She whispered. Metal lowered his volume to match her.

"I was conserving energy. My power supplies are in good condition, daily charging is superfluous. You, however, are usually asleep at this hour." He pointed. Amy hopped from foot to foot, embarrassed. Her face was always so expressive when she wasn't in makeup. Often she was, as she went to photoshoots in the morning, before she practised with Metal. But by the end of their training, the photographer's paint would shift from her face and smear onto her hands and onto him. The stage paint, however, was more like a mask that kept her from even moving those muscles. Sometimes, up close, her face was more stiff than his. But now her cheeks scrunched and stretched freely into a guilty smile, and her eyes sparkled in their natural green.

"Yeah, I am, but I just couldn't stop thinking about what the director said."

Metal beeped as he withdrew into his recordings.

"Do you even want this Amy? No, I'm serious, 'cause why are we all here if you don't? Can you let us know, so I don't waste my time?" He parrotted her Director's voice helpfully. Amy winced, and nodded.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. I'm real sorry for letting you and everybody down. They worked so hard on the dance, and you... I'm starting to think you deserve a metal partner too, huh?" She joked, but her hurt showed as clear as code. Metal buffered.

"I was designed to perform with you, Amy. Why would I ever do anything else?" He asked. She laughed softly, and leant into his chest to the speaker program.

"You could do so, so much more, y'know? I'm the limit here! But... I just really wanted to try again. See if I can't get this right before the morning, then when we start tomorrow, we'll knock their socks off! If you don't mind, that is?" She prompted him, as she pressed his chest and requested the last song they'd rehearsed. Metal instantly posed for their first point.

"I will gladly comply."

But I don't think you need to.

He didn't say, because thinking wasn't what he was supposed to do. It was an offshoot of his learning A.I., just a quirk that happened when they fed a machine too many love songs. Because that was what they performed, and so he couldn't help it.

He beeped to count them in, as she took her first position too.

The dance was a blend of contemporary and latin, to go with the song - it was a new direction for Amy, but this was what she wanted to write, so the choreographer did his best to match. Amy stumbled and forgot her points here and there, and became so frustrated she called to stop before she sang the first chorus.

"Your vocals do not need rehearsing." He assured her. She shook her head, then nodded.

"I know they're fine, but I have to be able to do the dance while singing, I need to know my breath will stretch!" she puffed, fanning her cheeks as she prepared to start again.

"I could always support you?" Metal asked in a near perfect recreation of her voice. As he recorded everything he heard, he had the ability to speak or sing for her, a feature being trialled for mass use but not publically known about. Amy shook her head fiercely.

"Then you might as well do the whole thing yourself! I can either do it, or I shouldn't be here at all!"

Metal parsed for helpful words, but Amy just stomped her socked feet.

"Start again! I have to do this!"

So Metal beeped them in.

Metal Sonic was designed to be the perfect partner, as well as the future of the vocaloid genre. For Amy's team, they determined that her songs, which so often featured a nebulous man as the object of her affections, would take a more cheerful tone onstage if performed with a partner, and after many failed auditions the design team suggested this strange solution. Amy once felt embarrassed that they couldn't find a male artist to work with, but the strange and striking nature of their performance captured public interest, and they were still riding that novelty wave to sold out concerts.

His name, officially, was E(C)-MS01. Fans had many names for him, but often just Amy's partner or the partner. Metal Sonic - the 'MS' in his name - was an in-joke with the team, since Amy's first ever songbook was all written about a certain blue popstar she had a crush on as a teenager. She thought she'd die if the press found out, made worse by the fact she still drew inspiration from those diaries and songs for her work.

She tripped as she was lost in thought, failing to focus on the dance again, and ceased singing to growl in frustration. Metal paused the music; where they'd stopped they held a closed position, and her hand was still in his, his arm behind her waist. She was leant slightly back, so if he let her go, she would fall; so he let her lean there as long as she liked.

"Your body will not perform well if you are tired." Metal volunteered. Amy bonked her head against his chest.

"If it really wanted to, it would. What's wrong with me?" She sighed quietly.

"There is nothing wrong with you at all, Amy Rose."

Amy laughed humourlessly;

"Then why can't I do what Amy Rose is meant to do?"

Metal was silent as his processor was challenged. Amy seemed to take that as proof she was right, and stood up to leave him, and leant on the ballet bar to gaze through the skylight at the night above her.

Metal followed after a moment, and copied her pose. He was getting scarily like her: she supposed eventually they'd have to teach his A.I. some behaviours other than hers, but for now she found it endearing.

"Perhaps the song is not right. Is your 'heart in it'?"

She scratched her quills.

"They say it's a good song. A new era for me."

"But you've always said your music comes from your heart. If that isn't happening, then maybe it's not meant to be." Metal offered. He used her own phrases on her with almost perfect tone, but he was clearly still uncertain about his use of them. She smiled and affirmed him, and his eyes flicked to show he'd logged that.

"But, it is how I feel. Sorta? I mean it must be, I wrote it?"

Metal loaded again.

"Is the song about love?"

"... sort of?'

"Is the song about praising God?"

"What the hell- no? Where would you get that idea?"

"It seemed unlikely. Is the song is about sex?"

"What? No, no, no it isn't!" She squeaked.

"Oh. Apologies. I am not particularly adept in song analysis. My primary statements indicate that 'most songs are about love; if not, to look for signs of religious language, otherwise assume sex'."

She laughed warmly, and Metal awaited input correction, quietly pleased she was happy.

"That says more about your designer's opinions than the actual state of music, I think. There's more to life than romance, hymns and sex."

"This is interesting. Such as?"

This made her laugh again, and she tapped on his fingers as she looked up.

"Friendship? Loneliness? Change? Anything and everything under the sky, and beyond!" She laughed as she gestured to the moon; "Anything a person could feel, we can write about!"

"That is interesting, and difficult for me. What is this song about?"

"I'm sure it is. This song... is about feeling misunderstood. The singer doesn't know why she feels out of step with others, and is asking for someone to understand her."

Metal watched her tap the rhythm over his metal fingers.

"Do you feel like that?"

She rubbed her face with her hand, and didn't look at him.

"I suppose I do. Don't worry about that, though. It's not your concern."

Metal updated his records. Her own loving sentiment that she poured into every song rushed back in the stream of words he generated, but none of that passed his secondary checks to confirm they made sense.

"Perhaps the routine is wrong."

"No, you're doing it right."

"'Wrong', meaning 'Incongruous'. It is a dance that requires being perfectly in step. This is antithical to the intended meaning. If you truly want to be understood, this performance should be you asking that of the audience, not conforming to them. It is important to you."

It was Amy's turn to be quiet, loading through her thoughts, before she groaned.

"Great, I'm sure the team will love that. 'I'm not the problem, guys! It's all of you!'"

Metal let her think for a bit longer, before he changed tone.

"Could I try designing you a performance?"

Amy rubbed her eyes and raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you knew how to do that."

"I have observed the process. I could try. It could be our surprise to reveal tomorrow."

"What, you could design it now?"

Metal whirred a little, conflicted. If he revealed that he had been working on designing a dance for Amy for months, she might think it strange. But Metal felt he knew her better than anyone, and had run models through his system of thousands of dances with Amy, with the unreleased Improvisation system. So naturally, as he could tell Amy was struggling, he had been modelling his own dance for her to improve the performance.

"I have... now."

"Just then? There's no way! Well, I've got to see this!" She laughed, and requested it.

The choreography was less technical, more emotive, with pauses specifically added for Amy to add her own flourishes and contemporary flare. Metal would represent the walls around her, the masses, and the figure she expected to be. It was far too brilliant, too raw, for a machine to make, yet here it was rendered across his display with their two figures.

Amy was speechless. Metal waited for her to respond, then began to replay the sequence.

"You... you are so much more than a machine, huh?"

Metal's chest burned with pride that shouldn't have been there. He could never confide that he knew it was true, that there was something in him that was made to do more than repeat music, but to move, speak and think with power and independence. And she saw him, and she saw that he felt it, or perhaps just her own pride in him was reflected in the visor.

"Let's do it."

He stepped her through as he played the song, and when they finished the stagger through she barked orders to repeat this bit, this turn, to alter this one move to flow into another. Metal loved her when she was like this, passionate in a way that seemed furious with everyone, but actually came from her joy and high expectation.

Amy was strong, far stronger and fitter than they were allowed to portray her as an idol, and when her turn to improvise came, she lifted Metal into the air.

He adapted instantly, gracefully posing as she would and allowing himself to be spun. She sweated, her breath haggard as she sang, which to his mind added all the raw energy this performance should have.

Amy caught up with herself when she noticed her own breath fogging Metal's face as he held her at the end of another rehearsal. She had left condensation fingerprints on his body where her hot hands met the cold chassis. Her body burned and ached, but for a moment she had found her magic:

When she danced with Metal, she could forget being a starlet was just one step on her dream ladder, and that she wasn't good enough to be signed where she wanted to be. She forgot she was dancing with a walking advertisement for the biggest tech company in the world, part of a grander scheme to improve public perception of the company and A.I. robots in general, an initiative she hadn't previously agreed with, but was now the face of. She could forget, even, that she was dancing with a machine that was made to serve her, that it was not marvellous or impressive when it did so.

Because she was singing to Metal, who felt more real than anyone knew. When she sang, he sprang to life from a doll in a musicbox to a powerful force that could rip her apart in his fingers, but chose to be soft and beautiful just for her. And she was the same: she could tear the world apart and throw it to the flame, but she chose to dance beautifully on a stage. They weren't trapped in their roles; they showed mercy to the world, like wild tigers in a flea circus.

Metal's fingers twitched, as if to pull her closer but he didn't. She deluded herself that he wanted to, that there was a beating heart in there that could want, and felt like her. She pressed her head into his, letting her weird feelings run unchecked for just a moment more.

"Amy Rose; are you not tired yet?"

She sighed, the magnet in her desperately pushing her face to kiss him, but she pushed her head away and nodded instead.

"I should go shower and sleep. But I love your dance. I want to do that one."

Metal nodded. He would love to smile, but instead just bumped his head against hers as gently as he could, and her heart burst.

She yawned fakely to hide her pink face.

"We should do this again sometime, I like rehearsing with you when it's just us."

"You should not make late exercise a habit."

"Yeah, you're right, I'll put you in bay."

He followed her to his sleeping quarters, already cataloguing every new thing he'd learned. As she plugged him in she drew close to him again, mounting him exactly as he had been, in his music box.

"I'm glad you're my partner." She whispered.

"I'm glad too." He whispered back. She giggled.

"You have to feel like that, though."

His fingers tried to resist being put away, and one hand unclipped itself and found her softened quills in their ponytail, and stroked her face. She seemed to catch fire where he touched, glowing red.

"I don't think I am supposed to feel like this." He said as quietly as he could, his eyes blanking as they did when he was concentrating, or nervous. Amy held the hand to her cheek, then leant up to his face.

She kissed the space beneath his nose where his mouth would have been. It was brief, and strange to her, but as she pulled back those few seconds replayed in Metal's internal record bank over and over again.

They stood in frightening silence, before Amy took his hand from her face and placed it back on it's mount.

"Good night, Metal Sonic."

"Good night, Amy Rose."

[vexic929]

Minutes to Midnight

An angsty but also fluffy fic for Barry's birthday, info on Beth here

OCs are mine but based on The Flash characters

Beth fiddled with the pen in her lap idly, staring at the clock as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just a few minutes. It was silly, she thought, sitting here waiting as though the moment the clock struck midnight, Barry would wake up. He probably wouldn't. No, he definitely wouldn't, she reminded herself. It had been four months with no change and there was no sign of him waking anytime soon. Be reasonable.

She definitely wasn't being reasonable. Sitting around waiting to wish your brother a happy birthday when he wasn't even remotely aware of the passage of time was decidedly unreasonable. But she couldn't help it. It was something they'd done every year since they were small, when they would sneakily stay up together to count the seconds until the clock struck midnight. They'd roped Iris into the tradition too, when they'd moved in with the Wests, and Beth wondered if Iris was awake at home right now, doing the same thing.

"Knock knock." Cisco's voice drifted from the doorway and Beth looked up, shooting him a small, forced smile.

"Hey." She greeted. Cisco crossed the room and pulled up a chair next to her, prompting Beth to finally unfold herself into a more proper sitting position. She gestured vaguely to the clock. "It's, um...his birthday is tomorrow...well, in a few minutes really, so..." She shrugged, trailing off. Cisco nodded.

"Yeah, I know. I was just coming to check on you. Thought you could use some company." He said. Beth's smile softened a little and she reached out to take his hand. He squeezed it gently.

"Thanks. I appreciate it." She said quietly. "I just can't help feeling like...like I should be doing something more."

"More? You've been here every day, I don't think you'd ever leave if you could help it." Cisco said. His tone was light but Beth ducked her head anyway, feeling guilty.

"Yeah, I know. But I keep thinking...maybe if I did something different or tried something else, or-or maybe-"

"Beth." Cisco interrupted before she could spiral. "You couldn't have done anything to change what happened. None of us could." Beth swallowed hard and nodded, squeezing Cisco's hand tighter.

"I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing him like this...it's not how he's supposed to be. God, I...I wish you'd met him before. He's so smart and funny and brave and kind and I just..." Beth trailed off and Cisco laced their fingers together instead, running his thumb over the backs of Beth's knuckles soothingly.

"Hey, don't think like that. I'll still meet him, whenever he wakes up." He said firmly. Beth sniffled, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I know you will. He's going to love you." She said, sighing softly. "I'm just...he might be a completely different person, if - when - he wakes up. There's so many variables, the lightning could have impaired his memory or personality or-"

"Stop." Cisco interrupted and she looked up, finally meeting his gaze. "Don't do that. Don't think about the unknowns or the what-ifs, okay? Let Caitlin worry about that. You just need to be here for him. And I'll be here for you." He promised, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Beth leaned over and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss, trying to let Cisco's words halt her spiraling thoughts. Her watch beeped, letting her know midnight had finally arrived and she pulled back, resting her head on Cisco's shoulder again and glancing back at Barry, still as ever, on the hospital bed.

"Happy birthday, Barr." She whispered, heart heavy. "Wake up soon, okay?"

[chaoscriess]

Hi there! I just found your fanfics and fell in love with your writing!! Could you do poly Stu x Billy x fem!reader with the prompts 1, 10, and 53? I get really bad nightmares and I would love some comfort from my two favorite characters.

STOP i just looked at your blog and i absolutely love it!!!! I have such a big thing for Halloween and I got so excited when I saw ur countdown ahhhhhfjdhsnsfuoej do I have a fix that's supposed to be released before this one? yeah but I just couldn't help it I love you.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒! 1. 10. 53.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! nightmares, mentions of being stabbed by ghostface in the nightmare, nothing else really, it's so fluffy

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! on mobile, format might be weird. lowercase intended, unedited, double periods intended. this one is kinda weird, like its basically half HCs and half fic, very busy lately

ACTUALLY GOT SOMETHING DONE TODAY IM SO HAPPY

poly!stu x fem!reader x billy

you were at your friend stu's house, joined by your other friend billy. you'd had a crush on them both for a while, but you never acted on it because you couldn't decide which one you wanted more.

when billy and stu got together, you thought your life was over, and that you didnt have a chance with either of them

spoiler alert, you were wrong

anyways, you were on the couch, half asleep but trying to focus on the movie that was playing in front of you

it wasnt working

pretty soon, you were fast asleep

you were dreaming, but it definitely wasnt a good dream

you were being chased by ghostface and stabbed over and over again, and your face scrunched up in your sleep and you kept turning

stu saw this and elbowed billy softly, whispering, "what should we do? I think she's having a nightmare"

billy contemplated his options, his brows furrowed, and he came to a decision

he scooted closer to you before gently shaking you awake.

you sat up quickly with a scream, gasping for air

billy and stu quickly became concerned, both of them putting a hand on your shoulder or knee

"hey, hey, hey, its alright, I'm right here" billy spoke quietly and slowly, making his presence known to you. you were still breathing quickly, terrified, and you didnt notice either of the boys until then. you switched your eyes between the two, before pulling them both into a tight hug. you pulled away as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill. you looked down as they poured out, not wanting them to see you so vulnerable.

stu reached out and gently lifted your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. he asked if you were okay, but you could barely hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and your loud, laboured breathing.

shit, were you having a panic attack? fuck, in front of the guys you were in love with, too. stu noticed your panicked state and pulled you into a hug with the side of your face pressed to his chest and you held eye contact with billy. you immediately took in stu's cologne and somehow it calmed you down a bit, but your breathing was still quick and ragged. "hear my heartbeat? just focus on that". you did as told, counting the beats you could hear. it helped quite a bit and after a few minutes, your breathing was back to normal.

billy took your hand in his and you looked up at stu, smiling at him. you let out a quiet 'thank you both, I'm sorry' and they looked at you like you were crazy. "y/n, you have nothing to be sorry about, none of that was your fault". you looked at billy as he spoke and then looked down, you felt like a burden. he tugged on your hand, pulling you away from stu and closer to him.

billy pressed his lips to yours for a second before pulling away. stu turned your head to face him, and he kissed you, longer than billy had, and he spoke once he pulled away. "shit, I've been waiting to do that for so long". you giggled at stu's words and looked down in embarrassment. billy chuckled at your shy behavior before speaking. "hey, you know what? we'd make a cute couple."

[honeysuckleharringtons]

Can I request, 13, 14, and 19 with Eddie? 🥰

"Bat Boy and Baby Girl" ~ E. Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson, lover of all things Halloween, takes Reader, hater of all things spooky, to a haunted house.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N or pronouns, but Reader is called lady and baby girl)

Word Count: 528

Content Warning: explicit language, mentions of blood, mentions of knives, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluffy and Comedic, that's what i'll call it lol

Extra Notes: i wish i could explain the name. i really do. other than saying that i thought of it five minutes after i got out of bed and i died laughing at myself 💀

Based On the Prompts: black cat, spooky, ghosts

Originally Written: 10/16/2022

Beta Read By: @reidsbookclub and @dungeons-are-too-cold (thank u my dears!!)

honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!

october prompts can be found here!

honeysuckleharringtons's ask box can be found here!

"Eddie, I swear to God, if I make it out of here alive, I'm breaking up with you," I griped, clenching onto his arm even tighter than I already was.

He chuckled in response, that motherfucker. "You know, they say this house is haunted by the ghost of Old Man Hawkins himself," he smirked, his left eyebrow cocked as high as humanly possible.

"I'm going to kill y- EEEKK!!!" I screamed as probably the fifteenth clown popped out at me.

Eddie's grip around my hand tightened as he leaned over to kiss my hairline. "Are you really that scared of haunted houses?"

I kicked him right where it hurt when I muttered, "Yes, Edward, I am."

His mouth scrunched sadly. "You don't have to pull out my government name."

After what felt like an hour (but was most likely only a matter of minutes), we finally made it to the end of the haunted house.

A blood-covered, knife-wielding Michael Myers stood near the door, as still as a statue.

"Never again, Eddie," I whispered as we cautiously approached the door.

The knife flew up to my chest, just inches away. "I hope you had a scary good time, little lady."

I screwed my eyes closed for the hundredth time now as we made our way out the door. I took a deep breath of fresh, night air, relief falling heavy on my shoulders.

"Now, was that really that bad?" Eddie teased, taking off his leather jacket and tossing it over me.

I didnt even get to enjoy the relief before we heard a rustling in the distance, like a bird stuck in a tree or a bush. I whipped my head around quickly, locking eyes with a shaking hedge near the edge of the parking lot.

"Ed-" I was cut off by the sound of the bush crackling even louder.

I squealed as Eddie raised a hand in front of my head, signaling for me to be quiet.

However, I obeyed his command, immediately zipping my lips closed. The rustling became even louder as we approached, the hedge shaking so hard I was surprised it didn't move from its original spot.

Eddie tip-toed closer to the bush, the sounds of the chains on his belt loops jangling with every step he took. He stood barely a foot away from bush, and-

"Meowww."

I nearly jumped on his back as the black cat found its way out of the bush. Eddie doubled over laughing at my behavior, earning him a slap on the shoulder.

"It's just a little cat," he chuckled, kneeling down to scratch its chin. "Hey there, buddy."

I breathed another sigh of relief, though I couldn't say I was completely immune to the "bad luck" superstition. I secretly said a prayer that we didn't die on the way home or get poisoned later when we stopped for dinner.

Eddie stood, pulling me in for a playful kiss, his pumpkin-pie-scented breath hot on my face. "I love you, even if you are a superstitious baby girl," he mumbled against my lips.

I pouted, tempted to pull away from him. "I suppose I love you too, bat boy."

Hello, my dearest darling best friend, I hope you enjoyed this lil blurb!!! i know it wasn't as ~spooky~ as you'd probably hoped but when I saw the prompts ~black cat~ and ~ghosts~ I immediately had this idea in my head so I hope I did your prompts some justice! 🫶🏻

-> Taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-is-dead-inside @awkotaco24 @princesseddie

[gryphonlover]

Whumptober 2023 Day 6

Prompt: forced to watch

Victim: Twilight

Words: 524

Notes: Wind walks in his sleep.

Twilight was not having a good day. In fact, he hadn't had a good <i>week</i>. Well, month, really.

Things normally didn't bother him that much, but sometimes he just… it just hurt, okay? He knew that he was supposed to be the strong one, literally and figuratively, but he was secretly just as weak as a normal farmer. Because that what he really was. Just a dumb farm kid that didn't know any better.

So here he was, moping around at midnight and being a dumb farm kid again. He hadn't been fast enough, hadn't been strong enough, hadn't been <i>good enough</i> and now one of their one was tucked into blankets under a mess of bandages.

His stomach twisted. His one job was to protect people, and right now he couldn't even do <i>that.</i>

He stood up to walk around the perimeter and calm his nerves, and as he did so, Wind stirred in his bedroll. 

Twilight froze as the kid sat up, instincts torn between asking what was wrong and ignoring the distressed look on his brother's face.

Luckily for him, he didn't even need to make a decision because Wind just stumbled over to where he was, the blanket around his shoulders slipping to show the pale white of gauze underneath. 

When Wind plopped down next to him, Twilight held his breath, then slowly put his arm around the sleepy hero. There was a soft sigh and Wind leaned against him. 

Okay, everything was fine. He was probably just walking in his sleep again. 

They hadn't found out that Wind walked in his sleep until a month or so into their quest. They'd all noticed that he had a tendency to wake up in odd places, usually flopped directly on top of someone, sometimes on the opposite side of camp without a blanket. No one had bothered to question it until Legend had to go track him down in the middle of a watch.

Thankfully, he'd caught him before he'd walked too far off and gotten hurt, and that was that. Watch now had double duty, first to make sure any monsters or wild animals were driven off, second to make sure that Wind didn't go get lost in his sleep.

Something in Twilight settled with the reassurance that Wind was safe again by his side. Yeah, he hadn't done a very good job at keeping the kid safe before, but now he was comfortably tucked against his side with a strong arm. There wasn't anything keeping them from each other.

As the night wore on, Twilight slowly relaxed, his worries gradually melting away as he caressed the fluffy mop of hair resting against his chest.

The soft sounds of morning began to rise through the air, a small breeze filtering through the leaves and gracing the camp, bringing the scents of moist earth and blooming flowers with it. And he realized that even though he'd failed yesterday, and people had gotten hurt because of it, he had a chance to try again. And if Hylia stopped giving him more chances? Well then he'd just have to take one from her.

[ladydarkey]

CelebRRRation22 Day 4

My second fic i want to submit to #celebrrration22. i am really happy that i have found this incredible and lovely communtiy.

Huge thanks to @stanleykubricks and @fangirlshrewt97 for organising such a wholesome event like @celebrrration

Title: Morning feast

Relationships: Ram & Bheem

Rating: T

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a bit sexual

Day and Prompt: CelebRRRation Day4, Food

Morning feast

It was early in the morning. 

At least that's what Bheem assumed as he slowly opened his eyes, still drunk from sleep. From the side of his bed he could see the rising sun slowly bathing the sky in its golden light through the window.

"I thought I heard something. Or was it in my dream?", Bheem asks himself confused and tired. For a moment he laid still in silence and listened hard, but nothing could be heard. He relaxed and the sleep was about to take over again. Since it was their day off they still had time to go back to sleep.

While turning around in bed, Bheem groaned softly because his muscles hurt from days of hard training. He longed for Ram's warm body. With closed eyes he grasped for his lover for that sweet first cuddle in the morning, but he couldn't feel anything. Bheem opened his eyes to look over. The bedside was empty. No Ram in sight and the sheets were already cold.

"He must be awake for a while, I wonder why he didn't wake me up?", he mumbles in slight disappointment. Normally they cuddle in the morning until they have to get up. 

*Rumble clink*

A loud noise came from somewhere out of the house. 

Bheem immediately sat straight in bed. "Ram? Was it you?" He ask loudly in hope to get an

answer. But there was none which really concerned him.

*Rumble* *loud non understandable curses* *rumble*

"It comes from the kitchen!" Bheem instantly jumped out of bed and his heart started racing. There was no time to get dressed. Visions of various scenarios flashed before his inner eye, which could represent a possible source of the noise. 

Maybe it was an intruder who wanted to rob them in the early dawn. Maybe the British found them and wanted to eliminate them. Or it could be a wild animal attacking Ram. 

He rushed to the kitchen. Prepared to see the worst and ready to fight, only dressed in

shorts.

The scenery that opened up in front of Bheem left him speechless. There was no intruder, no British man and no wild animal. In fact there wasn't even a fight.

His jaw dropped in shock as he stopped right at the doorway. 

Bheems eyes wandered through the room. Lentils, potatoes and onion peels were lying literally everywhere. On the floor, on the kitchen table, on the countertop. Beige, sticky and viscous drops sticking to the walls and even on the ceiling. There was also something hanging half from the ceiling fans that Bheem couldn't identify. Something was burning on the stove. The kitchen was more than a mess! 

His widened eyes fell to the sight of Ram. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Bheem looked at him with a questioning look. His Beloved stood at the counter, the back turned to Bheem. Over his light blue linen pajamas Ram wore an apron, which looked similar to Sitas, and was fully covered in this viscous liquid himself. 

Ram couldn't hear the question since he was punching an unrecognizable mass in the bowl in front of him, mumbling all the curse words he knew. He looked even furious with his head shaking syncing to the movements of hitting. His fluffy and messy hair, black as coal, rocked along.

"Ram?! What are -", Ram startled, he turned around. Until now he hadn't realized that Bheem was standing behind him. His gaze resembled that of a frightened deer.

"Bheem? What -.. Why-... What are you doing here?” Ram stuttered in embarrassment, not knowing what to do now.

”You are supposed to sleep!" It sounded like a harsh order.

"How the hell am I supposed to sleep with this noise?" Bheem giggled and tried his best to not burst out in laughter. An embarrassed and desperate looking Ram in a girly apron looked way too cute and yet surreal.

“You could have told me another way that you want to remodel the kitchen. You don’t have to burn it down right away!” Bheem laughed hard while holding his stomach and pointed to the mess. He couldn’t resist teasing his love. 

Ram was briefly upset that Bheem was making fun of him. 

“I wanted to surprise you. It seems I have ruined it.” Ram sighed sadly, looking over his shoulder at the smoking stove behind him. 

Bheem suddenly felt guilty for making fun of Ram. 

“You wanted to surprise me by cooking something for me?” The half naked man was amazed. That was the last thing he would have expected from Ram.

“At least I tried to. But these hands only know violence. They can’t create something good. I am sorry”, Ram sobbed slightly, holding his hands in front of his face and looked at them in disgust and anger. 

Bheem moved towards him and took Ram’s hands gently in his. 

“Don’t be harsh on yourself.”, Bheem hushed and placed a gentle kiss on Ram’s palms. With a fond smile he says “In fact your hands can be very gentle and soft”. 

Ram blushed immediately. He could have sworn that Bheem could hear Ram’s heart pounding.

“But tell me my dear, what are you trying to make?” Bheem took his lover’s arms and put them around his own naked waist. He cupped Ram’s face with his big but soft hands, wiping away something that looked like batter from the silky cheeks of his personal chef. With a mischievous smile he suddenly licked passionately over Ram's lips. Heat rose in Ram.

“Mhm, tasty. Are you making dosa?” Bheem softly growled the words. 

“Y-..Yes. Sita helped me to prepare the batter yesterday. They should be filled with masala.” Ram tried to explain but his voice was slightly shaking. The semi-nude man, Ram was still holding, looked at him like a hungry tiger, longing for his prey. Bheem’s breath tickled the side of Ram’s neck which made him twitch. The predator appeared ready to strike.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed. But I think we won’t have that since you are awake”, he added sadly to his explanation.

“Breakfast in bed, huh?” Bheem asked curiously with a deep voice. His strong hands slowly slid down Ram's chest, to his waist, past his hips and came to rest on Ram's firm bum. He groped it gently but firmly, “We can still have one”. 

“How? Everything is burned or still raw. Definitely nothing to eat”, asked Ram, aroused by Bheem's animalistic behavior.

“I don’t need food to have breakfast in bed”, Bheem answered with a gentle bite into Ram’s neck. Ram moaned, wrapped his arms around his lover's wide shoulders, grabbed Bheem's hair, pulled his head away from the neck and kissed him with a burning passion.

The hungry tiger lifted up his prey and went back to bed where he could feast. ---- Let me know if you liked it :)

[undertale-writing-times]

Rarepair/crackship time![thank you anon for asking the question I'm too cowardly to ask]

Crisis/Tragedy

Small prompt!

"Dance with me like no one is there"

Have fun!

*dives into the ocean*

[Mafia bois]

Oh, I had a lot of fun.

Tragedy knew that love wasn't in his future. Yet, he couldn't stop his heart from yearning. He knew that it was something that he couldn't, shouldn't, have but he wanted it so badly! He never wanted something as much as this. Sometimes he thought about what it would be like, waking up with someone in his arms or in someone's arms, having a pet cat, and maybe even some children.

The one person that he wanted that so badly with, was one of his teammates. Crisis. Crisis was the one that cleaned up all of their messes, and Tragedy always made sure to make it easier on them. He didn't want to make their work too hard! Plus, you know, he didn't like making messes in the first place. It was normally Calamity that made the most messes and that was because he said it was fun.

Asshole.

Sometimes when they were around each other, Tragedy couldn't help but stare. He thought that Crisis was shockingly pretty. He loved the others markings, the way their fingers worked so quickly but carefully. It made him feel... strange. A warm feeling in his gut. Misfortune sometimes looked at him when they were together, but normally a glare would get him to stop looking. Stupid fluffy bastard.

It was late at night, Tragedy couldn't sleep, and the others were either out doing their own things or asleep... or so he thought. When he went into the kitchen, he heard soft music playing and there was Crisis making themselves something to eat. They turned their head to look at him when they came in, their colorful eyeshines seeming to widen a little when they saw it was him. Tragedy's own sockets widened, not expecting to see them.

Shit...

There's that feeling again. His body was frozen, he couldn't move. "What are you lookin' at?" Crisis asked in their silly little accent. 

"Ah-" He shakes his head to get his mind back into place and mutters something, then walks over to the fridge to get himself something to eat. Damn it. 

Crisis looks at him; he could feel the eyes on him, and then they let out a little laugh, "Do you think that I haven't noticed that you've been lookin' at me?" They reach over, grabs his hand, and pulls him over, "Or that you've been comin' to see me more than you really need?" 

The air almost got knocked out of his lungs. He knew that Crisis didn't like being touched, didn't mind touching people though which he... found strange but never questioned. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? "We... y-you shouldn't..." He didn't know what to say. He never knew what to say. 

"Just..." they started, "Dance with me like no one is there." They pull him closer, amusement flashing in their eyelights. Tragedy didn't know what to do, what to say, but he smiles and takes Crisis' hand into his own, lacing their fingers together and they danced. 

That was until he heard a loud ringing. The world crumbled around him as his sockets snapped open and he quickly looks around. What? What happened? But... oh, he was asleep... that was a dream? He groans hiding his face into his pillows and reaches over to turn off the alarm. This isn't fair.

[kisscara]

myst you are so madamot wtf +another prompt ! if you're wondering why the things above my notes are so weird, it's because they're pre-written before i send them 💀

yeah so like i'm back... this is like my fourth prompt this month i'm shocked???? (modern/highschool au)

notes: goofy reader and scara, highschool au, fluffy shit??, i forgot how to write, opm magic, and probably mentions (ish) of other characters (lumine in yellow, childe in blue, scara in purple pov nd reader is colorless.), am i going to refer to y/n as name?? yes i will, tell me tell me t-t-t-t-tell me

"don't you like them though... or are we all just mistaken?"

"just a little."

"...just a little what? wrong? correct?? HEY ANSW-"

...

it's been an awful while since you've seen your long-time crush scaramouche since exams. you two don't talk to one another much, but has made conversation a handful of times. just casual friends is what you would call your relationship with scaramouche.

your friends have been pushing you to confess to your crush — but when you plan out what to say, it leads to a dead end. everyone says "just say what you feel", but you can't. you want to admit how much you admire him and how long you've liked him.

"like you, but do you return my affection back?"

you could say that and be straightforward with him, but you're too scared to tell him so; because "what if i've been doomed from the start — would you think he'd still like me?"

you stare at him walking, you couldn't wish to change anything about him. through hallways, the school doors or the small library, he always leads your eyes to him.

...

"how about writing him a letter? since you're too shy to face him..."

your friend, lumine (hurtfully) suggests.

"a letter... seems a little cheeky, don't you think?"

"ah whatever, it'll be fine. besides, it's your most plausible choice if you really can't say it to him in person."

"mmm.... i'll try that out and, well, see how it goes?"

"...just don't bug me about it or i won't tell you what'll happen."

"whatever, i promise i won't bug you! just tell me if this letter idea goes anywhere alright?"

"alright, i suppose. although, how should i write the letter?"

"...seriously [name]?"

...

when childe asked us what we were, you'd say we're casual friends. is that really what you want, [name]?

i see the way you gaze over me. whenever theres someone else with me, you always look upset. there shouldn't be another reason aside that you're most likely jealous.

why don't you tell me, tell me what you feel for me exactly? no one's stopping you, why won't you go for it? i myself is unsure how to word my feelings for you — even just a few words from you confirming we both like each other is enough.

...

"uh... scara?"

"what?"

"look on the floor, a letter just dropped down."

KSHJFJDSJ I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE A LETTER BUT YEAH -still with you anon (popping off fr)

kehehe ito ba ang paghihiganti mo dahil itinago ko sa sarili ko ang mga ensaymada? 🤨 if it was, it totally worked. this is so heart wrenching 'cause two people who like each other but are too scared to confess are so painful to read about😭