#I want to write a fic from the blurb

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Jonathan Byers is your boyfriend 💕

“And if a double decker buuuuuuus,” he sang along to the record player quietly while he flipped the eggs sizzling in the frying pan. Donned in nothing but your boyfriend’s pinstriped oversized button-down and a pair of cotton underwear, you shuffled lazily into the kitchen, following the savory scent of a home cooked breakfast.

“Crashes into uuuuuuuuuus,” he continued, oblivious to your entrance. You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind and felt him relax into your embrace.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he sang along incorrectly with the next line of the song. You reached a hand out and swiped a piece of bacon off of a half-prepared plate on the counter. Jonathan turned around and hurried to the table to grab his camera.

“You look so perfect. Two seconds. Stay just like that,” he instructed, grinning as he snapped a photo of you holding up your bacon, eyes closed in a cheeky smile, both of you savoring yet another sweet morning together.

✨Nicknames for you: Love, sunshine, my girl (He’s always saying “There’s my girl” when he sees you show up anywhere, even if you can’t hear him. Steve told you so.)

💕 love language: acts of service/quality time

Always doing favors without you having to ask

Cooks dinner for you regularly

Loves to give hand massages while he lets you vent about your day

Gentle reminders to set your morning alarm, brush your teeth, and remember to drink water.

Loves to take you on nature walks and tell you facts about the wildlife or plants he’s photographed there

Takes photos of you on every adventure, and your house is filled with framed pictures of you in front of a variety of backdrops: your trip to downtown LA, a sunset by the pacific ocean, a nature walk through the redwood forest.

Always introduces you to new music and loves when you show him music you like in exchange. Hanging out around the house always has an eclectic soundtrack that is a perfect blend of the two of you.

💋 Kissing Jonathan: His touch is sweet, light, and pensive. He loves to hold your face or jaw in his hands when he kisses you, and he almost always ends those moments with a peck on your forehead or nose. His movements are careful, sensual, and comforting, and he is always checking in to make sure you’re okay with what’s happening before moving any further.

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie, high out of his mind, rambling on and on and on about Steve. Yeah, he drones on about how good he looks (its a crime that he's that hot). Yet, Eddie's going all philosophical even, talking about soulmates and alternate universes where they are together. He's saying this to the guy who's sitting next to him. Grey at his temples, a few wrinkles around his eyes.

It's Steve, but Eddie is convinced it isn't because he never noticed the signs of aging before

[hoshiina]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: kind of inspired by from the start by laufey, you loved him from the start

warnings: the reader is described as beautiful and pretty, hyoga is kind of sweet

If someone were to ask you what made you fall in love with Hyoga, you’d be in a bind, because you truly had no reason. You had no idea what started this little crush, but you were certain you loved him, there was no mistake about it. From the way you would notice your eyes following him, all the way to the way your heart would flutter when he talked to you. There was no other explanation of these emotions you harboured.

Hyoga was skeptical at times. He enjoyed talking to you far more than you would ever imagine, but sometimes he would have a sense that you might have some feelings for him. However, every time he had thought of this, it would immediately fade as he came to his senses, because there was absolutely no way you would fall for him. There was nothing he had ever done that could possibly come across as good, let alone something that would make someone fall for him. And definitely not you.

There were so many people who would kill to get one date with you, but none of them had had the confidence to ask. You were the most beautiful person most people had laid their eyes on, and he wasn’t an exception. This wasn’t only about your looks either, it was actually mainly about who you were. You would always be down to help and you always had a smile on, no matter the day. 

Your existence was more of an annoyance to Hyoga when you were just revived. He first assumed that Senkuu had just decided to revive a pretty person to raise the moral of the team, after realizing you had no particular strengths. However, it wasn’t long until he realized it wasn’t your looks that were making everyone’s day, it was rather your energy that was. For the first time in his life, he realized the effect one’s kindness can have on others. Soon after, the two of you had your first conversation, and for the first time in a very long time, you brought a smile to his face.

Now, you had no idea how to make Hyoga fall for you. You had pondered on this for months now, thinking about this every time you talked to him. Quite frankly, you were tired. You wanted him to like you so badly and today you were going to go for it. You had to start somewhere and whatever you were doing obviously wasn’t working.

The next time you talked to Hyoga was rather soon. He was just finishing his training for the day and you had just helped bring back the minerals that Chrome had found today. You were always nervous when you talked to him, but today must have been so much worse than usual, because you blurted out the words you had carefully held in for months.

“Hyoga, I like you,” you said and he was visibly shaken, but to his surprise you looked just as horrified. 

“...What?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“That came out wrong,” you said and he undeniably felt his heart drop a little. Of course it did.

“If you’re going to pull that prank, at least do it to someone believable,” Hyoga said.

“What?” you said and immediately you realized what he meant. “No, I do like you. I’m serious, I just didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”

“There’s no way,” Hyoga said, but he was hoping you would deny him and explain. “What have I ever done to make you like me?”

“Well, I’m sure that I do. I can’t quite point out when I first fell in love, but I can list things I like about you,” you said, absolutely confident. “I like the way you don’t say things you don’t mean. I like the way you care for those who matter. Oh, I love the way you’re always working hard. I know you’ve never skipped a day of training, even when you were burning up with that fever and you really should’ve...” You were ready to go on but the way Hyoga’s eyes widened surprised you. Immediately, you remembered when you first fell in love with Hyoga.

It was like you had thawed his frozen heart. He was so lost on how to react, no one had ever said that to him before. It was then that he remembered the time he probably fell for you. It was the first time the two of you had talked and your first comment was that you liked his kudayari spear. He had questioned if you were familiar with it and you told him you were not, a little embarrassed. You had admitted that you hardly knew anything about combats and weapons, but you assumed that the wear and tear in his spear showed how hard he worked. That couldn’t help but make him smile.

You were always like that. 

“Hyoga, I remember what made me fall in love,” you said, almost proud. “The first time we talked, you smiled. I thought a cupid shot me in the heart.”

Your confident demeanor was slowly fading away as you waited for his response. He could tell you were nervous and that made his heart flutter. You were serious. 

It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn’t because you had just said that. He just couldn’t help but smile. 

“Then, I fell in love first.”

BONUS

"No way," you said, unable to process that he returned your feelings, let alone fell first.

"You better not go around doing that to other people," he said, not elaborating on the previous statement.

"Oh, don't be silly," you said and he opened his mouth to tell you he was serious, but you went on. "I've only ever been looking at you, how would I know anything about anyone else?"

[mamuzzy]

Kal is seen by many as the devil himself, ok, I give you devil.

But he is the one with the Forbidden Fruit. The Forbidden Fruit which is love, and while he showed love to the clones under his care, he also exposed them to other things which made their life more painful than their brethren. With love, they learned yearning. Attachment. Pain. Shame. Wanting. Needing. Being selfish but also being selfless. He created humans.

Vau's trainees remained in their blissful state. They have everything they need in life. A higher purpose. They don't desire more. They don't need more. They can't allow themselves to yearn for more or it will bring the wrath of God. Being banished from this state of Paradise would be a death of them. They remained angels.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

No would believe Eddie if he told them that you are a softie--like the biggest one around. You love it when he runs a steady stroke over the apple of your cheek and presses kisses into your forehead and temples. You love it when Eddie tells you what you're having for dinner. You love it when you're curled up in bed and Eddie reads to you.

You are soft. But only around Eddie.

It was a slow process--to see it fully, the way you liked requinlishing some of the control to Eddie.

Eddie only started putting something together after one particularly rough shift at the hospital for you.

You came home and you slid down the front door, head buried in your head. It shocked Eddie a little to see you not even get a fully step into the house before crumbling. But it did sort of make sense. Your job demanded a lot. You were holding life and death at all turns in the hospital. You had to have your head on straight. You had to sometimes comfort families when the news was bad. You had to walk to your next patient like nothing had happened. You were always on. You had to be.

But that day--the day that Eddie started to realize that you were strong and put together because nearly the other facets of your life demanded it, but that you really wanted someone else to take over for you in specific spheres of your home life--changed nearly everything.

Eddie tried his best to console you, settling onto the floor next to you and rubbing a hand over your back as you sobbed. He kept asking what he could do, what you wanted from him, how he could help. All you get out was 'Off, I want it off.'

It didn't make sense to Eddie. He couldn't fathom what you wanted off. But after twenty minutes of you sobbing and curled into his arms, he just decided to put his foot down. He half carried you to the bathroom, got the water started, and started to strip you of your scrubs.

You didn't stop him. Not even after he added the bubbles that you liked. Eddie got you into the tub, leaning over the side of it to help you clean yourself off from the day. There were few words. Only Eddie's soft voice asking you to lift your arm so he could scrub your underarms or a warning that he was going to wash your pelvis. Eddie fixed dinner--though it was breakfast for dinner one of the few things Eddie could fix without burning a pot--and he tucked you into bed. The only thing you could muster in all of this was a soft thank you. You said it with a tiny smile and though your face still wore of the shadow of the day, a hollowness to your eyes, the smile was bright. You meant it and Eddie had gotten something right--even if he didn't know what it was exactly.

Again--this was only the start. The light bulb being screwed into place.

Then things started to add up.

It's not that you like being bossed around--heaven forbid Eddie try and tell you to go get your car's oil changed or the tires rotated or to not buy a specific item of clothing because you would go right in the opposite direction. However, you liked not having to think about certain things--you liked when Eddie started the grocery list or even just took care of it himself. You liked it when Eddie took your car for you for tune ups. You liked it when he'd have your favorite pajamas out on the bathroom counter after a twelve hour shift and he was fussing over the rosisteerre he was trying to get right.

You liked turning your brain off at home.

And no one, absolutely fucking no one, would believe any of this.

Because in public, you still corrected when Eddie's order was wrong for him, when he was indecisive about what to get--food, drink, clothes wise--you always had an answer. When Eddie couldn't get the words right on his tongue, you had them. When you walked the streets, you still wore the practiced, but albeit still aided by genetics, pout. You still had it together.

Like the time you and Eddie were looking at new mugs and a lost child wandered your way, Eddie froze up--trying to find anyone else that would be better equipped to help. Yet, you swooped in. You got to the kid's level asking gently for his name and offering yours when the kid didn't answer. You asked the little boy to describe his parent, or who he had come in with, and you carried him on your shoulders so he could see above the shelves. You got the kid reunited safely with his father. Eddie would've never been able to do that. But you could.

Even strangers seemed to gravitate towards you--though you tried your best to repel them--they'd strike up conversations and you were always polite but firm as you exited those conversations. You had an air about you that said you had your shit together. And you did--you always did.

But you didn't always want to have it together. You want someone else to be there for you--not to ask you to do something, but to do it for you so it was one less thing on your mental list. You liked turning your brain off.

Like now--he can see it. The look behind your eyes where the light is dimmed. Your eyes look a hollow. Your face looks a little dull.

"Gimme," Eddie states, hand stretched out. It's metaphorical. There's nothing to actually give Eddie. But you know what he means--you can let it go. You can drop your shoulders and you press your forehead into his shoulder. "I got you," he whispers, letting you have just a moment to take him in.

He doesn't let you linger long. He's gentle as he slings one of your arms over his shoulder and walks you to the bathroom. He closes the toilet lid and sets you down. Your shoes go first, socks with them. The tub starts to fill and you can get your scrubs off.

It's silent, but Eddie gets the water just right and helps you down into the tub. "I'll be right back--just relax, okay?"

You nod, meekly, as the bubbles fall over your chest. He exits the bathroom and then returns a moment later, a book in his hand. "We can chat or I can read. Those are the only two options you've got to worry about." Eddie holds up the book, The Princess Bride.

You shut your eyes just for a moment. You don't really want to have a choice.

"Hey, look at me," Eddie's voice sounds closer now. When you turn your head and crack open an eye, Eddie's kneeling next to the tub. "Last thing for today, promise."

The soft exhales ghost of your skin of Eddie's breath. The sound of his voice still rattles around in your brain. Promise. "Book, please," you whisper.

Eddie nods, pulling himself up onto the closed lit. "Close your eyes. Sit back. We're going to be in here until you literally shrivel up into a prune."

"Sounds lovely," you chuckle and do as directed. Eddie's voice--in all the accents and variations that he slips into easily, bounce around in your skull. You can feel the way the octaves drop in his throat or raise. You can imagine the dramatic hand gestures as Eddie switches his hold between his hands to emphasize certain characters, or pieces of dialogue and exposition.

You don't even have to care about the story--you don't think you've made it through one full novel without missing half the middle because you check out--and Eddie doesn't care if you care. He doesn't care if you want to listen. He knows that you need it. You need the sound of his voice. You need this not to be a choice all the time.

So Eddie's slowly worked through his tattered copies and he thinks maybe soon he should invest in a library card so he could check out a few more books in a vein you like more. But until his stack is thinned some more, he just picks one from the top of the unread pile.

It's like magic. After you do help with dinner--though Eddie declared it a left over day--you rest your head in his lap and he keeps you covered in the blanket you two keep on the couch, you are melting into his touch. "We gotta go to bed earlier tonight, yeah? Tomorrow we both have early shifts," Eddie warns as another commercial break interrupts the rerun you two are watching.

"Okay."

It's all you say. It's so soft as it leaves your throat it nearly melts Eddie's inside. He strokes the apple of your cheek with his thumb--the rings on his other fingers pressing softly along your jaw. You return the gesture with a kiss to his knee over the flannel pajama pants.

If only anyone would believe how much of a softie you could actually be.

[heartbrake-hotel]

I just want BDE to hold me; cradle me in his lap like a baby while he reads to me as I lay my head on his chest. Is that too much to ask for?

nonnie.. NONNIE.!! i wish you could hear the wistful sigh i let out reading this. i'm kicking my heels and twirling my hair about Big Daddy every chance i get 💌

just wanna curl up with him anywhere - in bed, on the couch, in the backseat of the car - wherever he is, wherever he's already comfortable, that's exactly where i wanna be.. 💓

[also i was just rambling i didn't mean for this to turn into any aCTUAL writing but.. uH 👉👈 yah sure whatever it's a blurb now ig]

wanna sneak up and slip into his lap while he's got that pretty nose of his buried in a book, disrupting his focus for only a second as he holds his book away to make room for you while you get comfy. his arms wrap securely around you once he's sure you're done moving, holding you tight, keeping your bodies flush as he reopens the paperback in his hand.

what follows is a kiss on the cheek and a murmur of sorry, didn't mean to bother you, just wanted to sit with you a little. go back to your book, and he hums a little absentmindedly in response as he keeps reading. you're pressed so close you can feel the rumble of it deep in his chest.

you busy yourself with nothing in particular, playing with the tuck in his shirt sleeve or the fringe on his jacket, occasionally running your fingers over some of your favorite parts of him: the plush swell of his belly or thighs, warm and strong underneath you; the soft slope of his shoulders, the curve of his neck, sometimes even reaching up to trace the ridge of his brow or the line of his nose. never for an extended period, just long enough for him to register and relish in the gentle touch. you wouldn't think he even noticed, too absorbed in his reading, except for how he squeezes your waist every time.

eventually, you sigh and wriggle in his arms, and he immediately drops them and clears his throat, faking that he's unaffected at the thought of you getting bored and leaving... but you're just sitting up a little higher in his lap to adjust your reach. you pout a little in discontent at the loss of his sturdy closeness so tight around you and pull his arms back where you want them. the barest hint of a smile on his face is given away only by the slight blush that colors his cheeks as he chides himself for bein' foolish, but it immediately widens to a cheshire grin as you begin running your fingers softly through his hair instead.

you don't know how much time passes like that, both of you content just to soak in the others' presence, before he speaks. wan' me to read out loud to ya, baby? his voice is quiet and sweet - not shy, per se, but like he's savoring the moment, like he worries you might get up anytime now and he wants to appreciate you here, snug and lovely in his arms, while he's still got it. you just nod in response, knowing he can feel it. he nods once, too, throat working as you watch his pillowy lips begin to form the words.

he thinks he's being surreptitious, but you're not so distracted that you don't notice how he flipped back to the very beginning of the book - a ploy to spend more time with you, but you don't mind one little bit. you hide your answering grin in his shoulder, sealed w a kiss pressed there, into the warmth of his body underneath the silky fabric of his shirt.

his voice is a little hoarse, at first, from slight disuse, but the longer he reads, the smoother it gets, the rich ebb and flow characteristic of his extensive vocal range becoming apparent. his cadence is lilting and musical in and of itself, so much so that you almost aren't listening to the words in favor of focusing on the sound.

the more he reads, the more comfortable you get, your fingers moving down to twirl in the fluffy curls at the nape of his neck as you rest your head on his shoulder. soon you find yourself sliding back down into his lap even further, to settle more firmly against the breadth of his chest. you can feel more so than hear the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat under your cheek. you've never felt so safe and loved as you do right here with him, and you know he knows it.

before long, lulled by that feeling, you find your blinks growing slower and your head growing heavier. you lost the plot of the book long ago, too distracted by his delicious closeness to keep track of the host of details, but now even the white noise of his voice is blurring in your ears as you drowse in his arms. not gonna fall asleep on me, are ya, little? he chuckles, his fond amusement audible. you grin a little but don't open your eyes, playfully slapping his shoulder as you settle more firmly against him. that, mr. presley, is for me to know and you to find out. now keep reading!

anythin' you say, honey.

[windor-truffle]

From the creator of angsty WIPs such as "what if Richard remained a monster in post game" and "what if Lambda tricked Asbel into killing Sophie" comes Dolphin's finest Graces fanfic scenario yet: What if Asbel had met Lambda on Lhant Hill as a kid instead of Sophie?

Dolphin awkwardly yet enthusiastically presents the frequently and mysteriously alluded to Tales of Graces long fic, working title "Two Hearts Could Be One"! An alternate universe in which Asbel and Lambda travel together, struggling to reconcile their flaws and learning to understand one another. One a martyr who'd sacrifice themselves to protect anything, the other a monster who'd sacrifice anything to protect themselves, both bonded in loneliness and bound in the same mind. Constant drama and angst guaranteed!* But stay tuned for that sweet happy?(???) ending after 25(?) chapters of the most emotionally gut-wrenching character drama a blorbo can endure!

Critics are calling it "Tales of Graces but better/worse," saying that the tone "ranges from bleak to hollow" and that "[Dolphin] should not have custody of Asbel" because "[Dolphin is] evil." Don't miss this chance to feel really depressed and distressed through the lens of what USED to be a chipper JRPG!!

Coming *eventually* to an Archive of Our Own near you!

*Contains graphic depictions of violence, possession, manipulation, body horror, and frequent suicidal ideation. Consult your local back arrow if you have concerns about problematic elements such as redemption arcs for abusive villains.

[naranjapetrificada]

Really weird how it's suddenly easier to pull together a chapter in a work that has an elaborate framing device when you actually make a decision about how to frame said chapter? Almost like stories need structure to progress like a human skeleton needs bones to move?

Anyway if you need me I'll be forcing myself to knock this draft out before letting myself read the new HDWTOTL chapter that drops today

[seiwas]

i wanna write smth so bad rn but my brain can’t squeeze anything out skdndkndkd

[cocolacola]

i had to spend such a long time researching what vernacular existed in the 1940s just so i could see if alucard could reasonably say this

[muppetjackrackham]

hypothetically speaking. what if i made some aesthetics for some fic ideas i have. do i have to have a fic or a oneshot to go along with it or can i just post an aesthetic by itself

[bbnibini]

I was curious on the next lessons will we learn why Michael chose to come to Devildom in disguise? And how will the brothers react.

I'm sorry but I don't play Obey Me NB actively anymore and I don't really care about the story as of now. 😅 No offence. I'm super burnt out by both the fandom and the devs, especially its P2W aspect so I think you're asking the wrong person. ;;; All I'm gonna say is people are judging Michael too quickly.

[whovianwholikesgirls]

You know the brain rot is real when you switch your lock screen from one to the other @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @itsfreakingbats @selfshippery 🙈🙈🙈🙈

[senditcolton]

💜 anon, i am not entirely sure what happened but tumblr ate your original ask. but here is that blurb! it's very cute unless you pick up on the subtle clues about when this happens and then it gets kind of sad.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I'll write a 5 sentence blurb about it! Tyson & Madeline - light

Madeleine carefully lights each candle that was planted in the frosting, making sure to not burn her fingers or burn down the apartment, all while Tyson’s bright eyes watched her movements, the whispers of a laugh on his lips. 

“Happy 24th Birthday, Tys,” Maddie says, her arms outstretched in a flourish after she spins the cake plate to face him. 

“It’s beautiful, Maddie,” he replies, the candlelight reflecting in his irises, “and I promise I’ll be home soon but until then, blow out the candles for me.”

She follows his request, a sharp ache in her heart at the reminder of the distance that forced this FaceTime celebration instead of a real one.

“You better be,” she teases, looking back up at him, “because if not, I will fly to California and get you myself.”

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe waking up with morning wood

warnings: smut (mdni) maybe somnophilia if you squint i guess? morning wood, me trying something new bc i came up with this random blurb i might try out writing other blurbs like this??? so if you have any ideas or pairings you want me to write for pls lmk because as much as i love writing +2k word fics it's fun to rewind by writing shorter stuff too

wherever rafe went, you followed; and even though it annoyed some of his friends, they didn't dare to say anything about it to rafe, because the one time they did, he got so angry they thought they were getting their asses kicked.

everywhere, also happened to include his bed. it had started after you had accidentally passed out on his bed from how much you drank, and he didn't care if you were there or not, he was sleeping in his own bed. now, it had gotten to the point where you couldn't sleep without him, and vice versa.

but you weren't a couple, of course not. rafe wasn't one for relationships, and you were just his friend since childhood, and even if he fucked you into the mattress a couple of times per week, or the fact that he never allowed any other girl to be in his bed, or that he thought of you whenever he hooked up with someone, it was just friendship.

"come on, wake up pretty girl..." he mumbled into your shoulder as you started stirring awake, rafe holding up one of your thighs up slightly as his hand rubbed his hard cock against your panty-clad pussy.

"come on, rafe..." you mumbled sleepily, and the blonde pressed a small, warm kiss on your shoulder over the fabric of his t-shirt. "why'd you wake me up? can't you see that 'm tired..."

"princess.. i need you..."

"rafe, we already went three rounds yesterday..."

"please, baby..." rafe mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your neck, the action causing shivers to go down your spine, and you could feel your panties starting to get wet, sticking to your puffy folds. "i'll do anything... just need you so much right now..."

you looked at him with half-lidded eyes as he pressed lazy kisses on your neck, "anything?"

"anything for you, princess. including murder."

"will you buy me those vivienne westwood earrings i want?"

"hell, i'll get a matching necklace."

and that's how you ended up with your best friend on top of you, pounding into your already sore pussy from the night before, your face pressed against the sheet as you let out moans that got muffled by the pillow, a handful of your hair around his fist as you closed your eyes in pleasure, your fists gripping the sheets to try and anchor yourself as he spoke in a low tone with every thrust "such a good girl for me... you're mine... this pussy's all mine... no one's gonna fuck this pretty pussy like i do..."

yeah. just friendship.

[practically-an-x-man]

Thought of the girls really wanting to paint Madison's nails and she lets them

She absolutely would!

The girls are a little too old to insist on painting her nails pink/purple/another stereotypically "girly" color (unless it's a joke), and they'd genuinely try to pick a color that Madison likes and would complement her. Whatever color she ends up with, it sends everyone else absolutely reeling with shock (Alex especially). The nail polish ends up chipping off in just a couple days with how active she is... but I think she would actually really enjoy experimenting with different colors and patterns.

It might even become a fun little routine, like every two weeks or so they set aside a day to paint their nails and do those sheet face masks and things. It probably started as a joke, maybe prompted by Raven or Angel, but it ends up becoming this really nice bonding thing for them