#Prompt 10

[hetakinkmeme]

This may be kind of a weird one but I suppose this is the place for those.

Francis/Alfred omegaverse, alpha Francis married significantly younger omega Alfred, having a little girl or boy together. Francis as a doting papa who enjoys spoiling his omega and the everything seems wonderful, but it takes a dark turn. Francis really loves being seen as a father but not the responsibilities that come with it. Loves doting on his omega, but only when Alfred plays his role. Alfred's dream of romance and a loving family turns into a nightmarish sham and a terrifying future as a baby-maker, housemaid, and bedwarmer.

At least, until Francis' grown alpha son (from previous mate) Matthew enters the picture.

I would love Matthew coming, finding out, and saving Alfred. But I would also be okay if the author just wants to do the darker FrUS part.

Bonus: Alfred was previously in an abusive relationship with Arthur. So when he fell for Francis he thought he was breaking the cycle only to end up with a different sort of abuse.

.

[chocoblep]

#10: Viaga

Prompt: Stable

It was often said by clients and acquaintances that M’rath was a man of logic, that emotion did not rule him as much as it did many others. For them, it was the truth; the mask that he wore in his professional and public life was one that would lead those who didn’t know him particularly well to that conclusion. But for those who knew the Miqo’te–truly knew him–it was a laughable statement. In truth, M’rath dreaded the day he met a true empath, because only then would a stranger know the turmoil that had made its second home inside his heart. For now, though, only a handful of living people knew his secrets: Illian, his old mercenary friend Aer, Daephrin, Jaxon, and a man he’d come to respect but not particularly like. The feeling, as far as he knew, was mutual.

As he strode into one of Highvale Manor’s outbuildings, a well-equipped chocobo stable, he startled his stablemaster into standing, dropping a saddle he’d been obviously repairing. It was almost comical, considering he was a Duskwight, and taller than M’rath by at least a third of his own height.

“Oh! Didn’t know you were coming, Master Highvale!” he said, sketching a quick bow before straightening and fixing him with a smile. Thankfully, it wasn’t a fake one; the man was well and truly happy to do his job. “Will you be needing your bird saddled?”

“Actually,” M’rath said, giving the stablemaster a smile, “I was thinking I would do it myself today. Though it has been a while since I’d saddled my own chocobo, so I may call you in for assistance if I mess it up too badly.”

“Oh. Well, then, by all means. Viaga’s been itching to run lately, so I’m sure he’ll behave for you.” He bent then to pick up the huge saddle that had slid off his lap, and sat back down to resume restitching a leather strap to the piece. “I think he’s missed you, too,” he said as Rath started toward his bird’s stall.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” Rath called over his shoulder.

“Because he’s been really agitated with me, and usually that’s a sign that I’m not the one he wants to see.”

Rath laughed softly at that, imagining the chocobo snapping his beak at the elezen’s hair in agitation. Just in case, though, as he approached the stall, he extended his mental senses quite purposely toward the bird. Almost as soon as he’d sent out his feelers, a deep brown chocobo head peeked out from inside the stall, bright black eyes fixed on him.

He sent it a mental greeting, sighing when what returned to him was more a concept than any sort of real response. Excitement. Warmth. Affection. The chocobo’s head bobbed, and he could hear the tippy-tappies of its talons as it pranced in place. Oh, he was restless, but that was just fine; Rath felt restless, too.

As he went about saddling his chocobo, only calling for the stablemaster once to double-check his work, he spoke little assurances to Viaga. He didn’t need to; the chocobo was the only living non-person that he’d shared his secret with, and he was more intelligent and aware than the average chocobo Rath had encountered, with the same uncanny ability to parse thought and intention that Rath had. They had become fast friends, often riding in silent companionship, and it was comforting to know that Viaga had no judgements for the moral quandaries of men. He understood food, and care, and intention, and that was all Rath needed from his feathered friend.

As they took off along the riding path that ran along the perimeter of the manor’s grounds, Rath pictured a nearby meadow, big enough that he could give Viaga his head and let him run freely for a while. Excitement flooded him from the bird, and he had to tighten up the reins to keep the bird from tilting into a sprint. “Not yet, my boy,” he purred. “Soon. Soon, we’ll be free.”

[a-drabble-a-day]

Prompt #10

The Stars (Take inspiration from a night sky. Or write about a time when the "stars aligned")

~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

The sky was clear and full of stars!

The lovers clambered up the rooftop, away from the army of staff below.

Xiao Zhan laughed loudly and freely, almost giddy from the excitement and illicitness. Yes, he was stealing Yibo away. But, who cares! It was Yibo’s special day, they deserved a sliver of privacy.

Side by side, they sat on the roof. The air was crisp, a gentle breeze sweeping away the summer’s heat.

It was just them and the stars, almost alone.

Xiao Zhan looked back, and saw an indulgent grin on Yibo’s face, mixed with a slight embarrassment, presumably from all the fuss that he was making over Yibo’s birthday. But…there were no real complaints.

Xiao Zhan grinned back.

“So, Yibo,” he asked, “Do you have any birthday wishes?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What is it?”

A sudden tightness appeared in Yibo’s lips, and a hesitance in his face. He stole a quick glance at Xiao Zhan and then quickly averted his gaze again.

After a pause, he replied tentatively,

“Zhan-ge…I think you know what it is.”

Xiao Zhan felt a sharp rise in the pace of his heartbeat, what playfulness he had dissipated immediately. 

A strained silence hung between them.

“Yibo-” he began. But what could he say? 

“Yibo-” he began again and sighed, “I don’t know. I really don’t. There’s just so many things…I just…I don’t know if we can make it work.” He wanted to ramble on, to explain, to cajole, to delay.

But, suddenly, Yibo’s voice rang out,

“We can.”

Xiao Zhan felt his breathing stop. The resolution, the stubbornness shook him to the core.

“Can we?” he asked breathlessly, feeling faint from Yibo’s absolute certainty.

“Yes, we can.”

There it was again. The resolution. The stubbornness. The immovable certainty.

Silence returned. 

And in the silence, Yibo felt a small hand slip under the long and voluminous folds of his sleeve and into his own, fingers interlocking. 

Just them, and the stars.

~~~~~~~

[forthill]

[blackandwhitebutblue]

@blessedbywater Location: Acoma ~ Prompt 10: Give Thanks to Erasmo, Kiara and Dragons

"EEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYXXXXXXXXX!" The sound of Dio's drawn out call cutting through the crowd as he pushed past them. After a clip full of 'pardon me...excuse me...move your tail...' he finally reached his friend slightly out of breath. "Ok...give me a sec..." Taking a couple deep inhales before standing up right again. "...we need to make like a magic friend your friend spell. Make it easier to locate each other." Eryx being one of the few arkers that he would allow to track him.

"So I need some help...I know you like all that bow and tradition shit...and I need to figure out how to show honor to our hosts." Sure the chores he manged to accomplish was a way of showing thanks but people liked gift and praise too, right? And he wanted to do something that would show how honor he was to be invited back to the island that was becoming sacred to him. With the biggest puppy eyes. "Please! Help me."

[midcinmancave]

Story Prompt:  Is this normal?

Story Title:  Scenes from a Royal Visit

Summary:In which new things are learned about Archduke Rayvis. Complete Story Source on FB 

Fictober24 Submission #24 Fandom:  Midnight Cinderella Featuring:  Rayvis Harneit, Byron Wagner, Albert Burckhardt, Giles Christophe, Nico Meier, The Princess Warnings:  None  Rating/Genre:  General Audience, Comedy Writer:  Giles Christophe

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #10

"They steal your freedom and dole it back to you like a child receiving rations, and you still say you're lucky?"

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Sanctuary (Canada TV 2008)

Character: Nikola Tesla

Additional Tags: Fluff, Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Kids Beings Kids, Brother-Sister Relationships, minor gambling Prompt: Bet, game, contest Chapter Summary:

Nikola and Marcia discuss some of Nikola's activities.

[belvedia02]

Fandom: Wednesday 2022

Relationships: Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair

Words: 1,892

Resumen: Se produce un apagón en Nevermore y Enid desea conocer a su roomie.

____________________________

La última habitación del Ophelia Hall solo se encuentra una de las dos personas que la comparten, sin considerar a la mano viviente que juró lealtad a la hija mayor de la familia Addams.

—Solo debo… — Wednesday no pudo terminar su frase mientras escribía la última palabra del párrafo que completaría el diálogo de su protagonista principal. Su dormitorio quedó a oscuras. 

Sin tener algún aparato electrónico o una linterna como fuente de luz, y una noche sin luna. Wednesday extrañó la presencia de su compañera.

Su celular sería de gran ayuda. Pensó mientras buscaba en las gavetas de su escritorio si tenía alguna vela. Después de unos minutos la encontró.

—Solo faltan las cerillas — Wednesday volvió a buscar en otra gaveta cuando las encontró, la puerta se cerró estruendosamente. 

—Wednesday…—Enid llamó a su compañera con una voz temblorosa.

—Aquí—Dijo brevemente lo suficientemente alto para que Enid la escuchara.

Enid se acercó hasta la mitad de la habitación, todavía no podía traspasar el límite de la cinta negra que Wednesday colocó en el piso desde su primer día, de ese encuentro solo han pasado 7 días. Wednesday encendió la vela y se acercó hasta la línea que dividía la habitación, siempre manteniendo una distancia prudente. 

—Asumí que esta noche estarías con Tanaka o eso es lo que dijo Thing— Wednesday no quería admitir que extrañaba su presencia en su hora de escritura incluso después de esa pequeña discusión del primer día. 

—Estaba con Yoko, pero también estaba Divina, así que…— Enid detuvo la explicación, porque no encontraba las palabras para explicar que sería un mal tercio esa noche, no tenían la suficiente confianza. 

—Bien, solo debemos esperar que arreglen el problema con la electricidad y puedas pasar el resto del tiempo que queda hasta el toque de queda — Wednesday observó como Enid reflejaba cierto temor en su rostro. 

—Estoy bien aquí— Enid no deseaba arriesgarse a volver a salir de su dormitorio, después que le costó caminar en la oscuridad, solo se ayudaba con la luz de su reloj inteligente, puesto que la batería de su celular llegó al 0%.  

—Volveré a escribir— Wednesday anunció y tan pronto como estaba girando para volver a su escritorio Enid la llamó.

—No creo que tengas suficiente luz—. Enid no contaba con ningún otro medio que le proporcionara luz, por eso estaba pensando en alguna forma de mantenerse cerca de Wednesday. 

—Soy lo suficientemente capaz de mecanografiar en estas condiciones, no sería la primera vez— Wednesday recordó las ocasiones en que le gustaba ese ambiente que proporciona la vela como una fuente de iluminación, de alguna forma se inspiraba en los cuentos de misterio que escribía en su niñez. 

—Te puedes dañar la vista— Enid encontró la excusa perfecta. Ahora solo debe rogar que Wednesday abandonara por completo la idea de volver hasta el otro extremo de la habitación. Enid no confesaría todavía su miedo a la oscuridad.

—Lo dudo, gracias por tu preocupación—Wednesday se alejó de Enid y dejó la vela cerca de su máquina de escribir. Antes de volver a sentarse miró hacia Enid que todavía permanecía de pie. Debatiendo mentalmente si volver a su actividad, considerando que todavía faltan 20 minutos según su peculiar reloj, Wednesday cambió de opinión. 

—Ya perdí la concentración—Wednesday agarró la vela y se acercó hasta Enid. —Ten, debo buscar otro par más — Wednesday no dio ninguna otra explicación y abrió su baúl. Agarró otro par más y volvió donde Enid, quien miraba extrañamente las acciones algo contradictorias de su roomie. 

—Serán suficientes, puede quedarte con algunas— Wednesday le dio dos velas a Enid quien rápidamente encendió una, sin saber muy bien en que apoyarlas, lo único que se le ocurrió fue dejarla en el suelo, aunque eso fuera sumamente inseguro.  Wednesday la imitó. 

—Esto ayudara a que tengamos suficiente luz—Dijo antes que Enid le pidiera alguna explicación. 

—Gracias—Enid ya no sentía temor, su habitación estaba suficientemente iluminada, pero evitó mirar hacia la pared donde estaba su colección de peluches.  Se sentó en el suelo apoyando su espalda en su cama. 

Wednesday volvió a su escritorio solo para buscar su libro y continuar con su lectura, sino podía escribir al menos ocuparía ese tiempo en alguna actividad antes que fuera la hora de dormir. 

Enid se sorprendió cuando Wednesday se sentó cerca de la mitad de la habitación, sin embargo ninguno de sus pensamientos fueron verbalizados, solo con mirar a Wednesday estaba tranquila. 

Luego de unos minutos Enid bostezó y se talló los ojos, el sueño la estaba invadiendo, pero se negaba a dormir tan temprano, todavía tenía la esperanza que volviera la luz y pudiera actualizar su blog. Wednesday si bien estaba leyendo, estaba pendiente de Enid. 

—Te aconsejo acostarte, Thing se preocuparía por ti—Wednesday encubrió su honesta inquietud hacia Enid. 

—Es temprano— Enid se sorprendió por el evidente interés de Wednesday por su bienestar. Enid consideró que tal vez este era un buen momento para conocer mejor a su compañera, durante esos días casi no habían cruzado palabras con excepción de su primer encuentro cuando recorrieron la academia. 

—¿Qué te parece si matamos el tiempo con algún juego? — Enid pensaba que nadie puede negarse a un buen momento de diversión.

—Siempre estoy a favor de un buen crimen— Wednesday cerró su libro dejándolo en el suelo, luego cruzó sus brazos.

—¿¡Eh!?—Enid aún no entiende algunas frases de Wednesday. —Me refiero a algún juego de mesa o …— Wednesday la interrumpió.

—¿Qué te parece un juego de palabras encadenadas? — Wednesday podía haber mencionado el ajedrez o cartas, pero quería poner a prueba a Enid si ella de verdad escribía con su voz o tenía graves faltas de ortografía.

—¿Cómo se juega? — Enid estaba segura que conocía ese juego de alguna serie o animé.

—Es bastante simple, una de las dos dice una palabra y la otra debe responder con el inicio de esa palabra— Explicó Wednesday.

—Déjame haber sin entiendo, si yo digo libro, tú debes responder con oso— Enid dijo el ejemplo más fácil que se le ocurrió.

—Básicamente sí.

—Es bastante fácil—. Enid se sentía con confianza.

—¿Qué tal si le agregamos algo de dificultad? — Wednesday es bastante competitiva, una cualidad que aun Enid desconoce. 

—¿La dificultad sería? — Enid cada vez estaba más entusiasmada.

—Solo debemos contestar en los próximos 10 segundos y los nombres de personas quedan excluidos— Wednesday estaba convencida de ganarle.

—Me parece bien, ¿quién nos ayudara con los segundos?, no puedo usar el temporizador de mi celular, está totalmente descargado y no sería justo que yo estuviera pendiente del tiempo y pensar en la palabra, tal vez…— Enid fue interrumpida por Thing que se acercó a las velas y produjo una sombra que la asustó. 

—¿Dónde estabas? — Wednesday no recordaba haberle encomendado alguna misión. Thing respondió dando algunos golpes en el suelo y usar su propia versión de lengua de señas.

Enid no entendía completamente a Thing así que no pudo saber que estaba diciendo. 

—Llegas en el mejor momento, tengo un trabajo para ti— Wednesday le explicó brevemente cuál sería su tarea en ese juego.

 —Estoy de acuerdo— Enid creyó en ellos, que jugarían limpiamente. 

—Ahora solo debemos decidir quién comienza— Wednesday buscó algo en uno de los bolsillos de su pantalón.

—Espera, quiero agregar otra condición— Enid es una persona competitiva, le demostraría a Wednesday esa faceta y que no sería tan fácil derrotarla.

—¿Cuál? — Wednesday encontró el objeto que estaba buscando.  

 —Una apuesta—. Enid estaba muy confiada. De algo serviría todas esas noches de juegos en la habitación de Yoko.

—Me parece adecuado—. Wednesday encontró interesante esa propuesta.

—El ganador puede pedirle al perdedor que haga cualquier cosa—. Enid se sentó al centro de la habitación.

—Estoy de acuerdo. Comencemos—. Wednesday lanzó la moneda al aire. Cuando la atrapó con el dorso de su mano izquierda y la cubrió con la derecha, miró a Enid. 

—Cruz—. Enid dijo sin titubear.

—Cara—. Wednesday mostró la moneda. Esbozando una ligera sonrisa. Enid solo esperaba estar a la altura del desafío frente a una escritora como lo es su roomie. 

—¿Están preparados? — Wednesday miró a Enid que respondió con un sí y a Thing que levantó su pulgar.

Wednesday estaba segura de su victoria antes de siquiera decir la primera palabra, pensaría en aquello que haría Enid frente a su derrota. 

—Quimera—. Wednesday comienza con una palabra fácil.

—Aventura—. Respondió Enid muy segura.

—Axioma—. Wednesday todavía no complicaría el juego con palabras difíciles.

—Aromático—. Enid se estaba emocionando.

—Oftalmología—. Wednesday seguía eligiendo palabras que terminan en vocales.

—Amanecer—. Enid estaba encontrando sus respuestas con facilidad.

—Récord—. Wednesday quiso variar esta vez.

—Diamante—. Enid con cada palabra se sentía más segura. 

—Extravagante—. Wednesday frunció su ceño porque no sabía porque respondió con una palabra que rimaba con la de su compañera.

—Estrella—. Enid sonrió al responder con tanta rapidez. Thing todavía no interviene.

—Aeronáutica—. Wednesday sabía una gran variedad de palabras con A, pero para ella no era un desafío decir las más comunes. 

—Amor—. Enid respondió casi automáticamente y sus latidos aumentaron su ritmo.

—Reunión—. Wednesday recordó cuando vio por primera vez a Enid.

—Navegante—. Enid no sabe bien de donde provino esa palabra.

—Encantador—. Wednesday pensó que ese calificativo encajaba muy bien con Enid.

—Radiante—. Enid vio así a Wednesday en ese momento aun cuando estaba en penumbras.

—Evolución—. Wednesday deseaba saber hasta dónde llegaría su relación con Enid.

—Neblina—. Enid estaba segura que esos días eran los favoritos de su roomie.

—Ápex— Wednesday casi cambia la palabra, no quería terminar el juego todavía, solo esperaba que Enid encontrara la palabra.

—Espera, eso ¿siquiera es una palabra?, seguro la inventaste— Enid no recuerda si alguna vez la escuchó.

—Existe, es una palabra proveniente del latín que significa punto culminante o el momento más crítico de una situación —. Wednesday explicó. 

—Yo… espera— Enid recordaba la regla de no decir nombres personales, le estaba costando encontrar la respuesta.

—Se terminó el tiempo— Wednesday vio a Thing hacer señas para indicar que Enid no pudo contestar dentro del tiempo. 

—¡No puede ser!, yo…— Enid estaba teniendo un momento entretenido con Wednesday y no deseaba que se terminara tan rápido.

—Como ganadora del juego, lo que quiero que hagas es…— Wednesday de inmediato cobraría su victoria, sin embargo fue interrumpida.

—Espera, yo quiero la revancha— Enid se puso de pie. No aceptaría la derrota tan fácil.

—¿Qué sugieres? — Wednesday imitó la acción de Enid. Por alguna razón quería seguir compartiendo con Enid, la estaba encontrando fascinante, algo que no diría explícitamente, pero sí a través de algunas palabras que ella pronunció durante el juego.

—No sé, debo pensar— Enid miró hacia la ventana circular. —Necesitamos algo de espacio y no quiero provocar un incendio— Señaló las velas.

—No puedo imaginar cuál será nuestro siguiente juego— Wednesday estaba entusiasmada, aunque exteriormente no lo demostraba.

—Algo sencillo, solo necesitamos acomodar las velas en el balcón— Enid no dio más pistas.

Esta vez las velas fueron casi una docena, se alejaron un poco del lugar y quedaron satisfechas con el resultado. Enid se atrevió a tocar ligeramente el antebrazo de Wednesday por la emoción que la invadía y demostrar que la estaba pasando bien esa noche. Wednesday no rechazó ese pequeño gesto.

—¿Lista? — Enid la miró.

—Siempre lo estoy—Wednesday respondió mientras su mirada se encontraba con la de Enid.

____________________________

Gracias por leer Prompt que conforma una breve historia con los días 3 y 4

[sterek-and-stuff-events]

Mead Moons prompt: Herbs

Does foodie Derek try to figure out the secret blend of herbs and spices in the amazing meals that Stiles serves up at his 5-star food cart? Or does the gruff Alpha pretend to be a coffee guy, but Stiles finds out that he really prefers soothing herbal teas?

Does Emissary Stiles have to track down some rare medicinal plants with Derek in order to save his father’s life? Or does he come across a strain of weed that will actually get the stressed out sourwolf to chill out and have a good time?

Do they go for an early evening stroll in a field of lavender? Or is it a Medieval AU where Derek sells herbs and olives and Stiles sells bread at the local market and they end up making some beautiful focaccia together? 

Cook up a story or two!

Accepting new and unpublished fic, art, and playlists until July 31st. See here for more info.

[chocoblep]

#10: Skipping Stones

They want to see the real you, he’d said. So stop wearing a mask and show them your true face.

Yeah, because that’s worked so well for me in the past.

Kismet sat on a large rock in front of the home he shared with Anzhi and Shev, his feet dangling over its side. The surf lapped at the rock and his toes, cool in comparison to La Noscea’s early autumn air… Which was, lest anyone wonder, still hot. He had a small pile of flat rocks he’d gathered from along the beach, and now, as he lost himself to his melancholy thoughts, he threw them into the gentle waves, watching some of them skip and some of them plunk right into the water as they hit it at the wrong angle.

He couldn’t be himself. People said they wanted that, but they didn’t. If he was himself, he was too dramatic, too emotional. He took everything the wrong way. If he was himself, he tried to seize something good for himself and lost the other things he loved. If he was himself, anxiety ate at him until there was little left but his haunts and his insecurities.

You’re not good enough for them.

One skip.

You’re always a second choice. 

Two skips.

You don’t even get a choice most of the time; they will do that for you. Ghost you. Get wrapped up in another person. Cast you out. Leave you to wonder what you did wrong, or if you did anything wrong at all. 

The stone, swallowed immediately by a wave.

You also don’t get a second chance. Mess up once, and you’re done. Fail to tell them what you want the first time, and you will not get the chance again. 

Two skips.

Never point out the things that hurt you, because you’re the only bad guy here. 

Three skips.

You’re not important enough to defend. Not important enough to keep. Not important enough to fight for, to try for.

He’d run out of stones to toss, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Ah, but what was the solution here? If he put the mask on, people thought him insincere. Genuine compliments and suggestions, brushed aside like so many false words.

He’d needed the promise of forever. He’d reached for it, and lost the chance at happiness elsewhere, too. He’d bared himself to others, only to be told how he felt, how he should feel, and made into the villain in another’s story. Hells, he practically had a restraining order against him because far be it from him to be able to interact with anyone and not hurt them.

His other partner was just as disappointed in him, and it was only a matter of time, despite what he’d said, before he left Kismet behind, too. 

Maybe I should just… Let the big man beat me until there is nothing left. Provoke him into doing it. It’d be a mercy compared to this; slowly suffering into insignificance with the people I’ve come to love.

“Starlight! There you are!”

Jumping slightly, Kismet turned to see a tanned, blonde-haired Viera headed toward him across the sand, barefoot and smiling. Before he could stop himself, the mask rose to take its rightful place, and he gave Anzhi a bright smile in return. He needed to be okay right now, for the one person who would keep that promise.

Because the alternative was falling apart.

[kidge-planet]

Number 10 for the Kidge Meme ask! 🌿🔥

Hi anon!!

So, the prompt 10: Who's more likely to comfort the other during tough times?

They obviously both do BUT, in their own way !

So let’s do Pidge to Keith first :

for exemple, Keith often feels off for multiple reasons ( He worries to much, he feels like he is a bad leader for the Blade or obviously, he feels bad whenever the date of his father’s death comes) Pidge would be having his back. She works a lot, but, when she sees that he is not ok, she would try to work less and to be with him more than usual, ( she knows that Keith doesn’t like it when she works too much. She also knows that the fact that she takes a break to just cuddle with him makes him happy)

She would just settle in the couch with him and cuddle, letting him nestle in her chest while she passes her hands on his back or through his hair.

She then would talk to him and be reassuring. Telling him that he is not doing anything wrong. The way she reassures him depends on why he feels bad.

Like when he feels bad about the Blade, she would remind him what a good leader he was for Voltron.

Keith would trust her and it'll help him to feel better.

He would also have a lot of nightmares during rough times, especially about his father. Pidge would wake up and and confort him with a thousand kisses and reassuring words with cuddles.

Now Keith to Pidge:

She would often feel bad because she feels like she can't reach her goals OR, as previously said in another headcanon, Pidge feels bad about about her appearance.

Keith isn't good with feelings but I does his best: If she feels like she wont achive her goals, he would remind her every times she did amazing things and that he was sure she would do it.

Then, when she feels bad about her appearance, GOSH, Keith would feel hurt and pissed because she is the prettiest to him. She CAN'T tell him such a lie.

He would grab her, look at her in the eyes and tell her that she is wrong. Finally, he would end up telling her every single things that he loves about her while letting kisses on her face. That'll make her giggle softly and she would at some point fall asleep in his arms, feeling better.

He would be more into physical affection, in general... But, after years of being with her, he became better with words.

[oswsfandomchallenge]

Here we go with prompt number ten! Can't wait to see what you've got 💜

prompt #10:

❄️ Apologies ❄️

[bythesigninthescarletprison]

Faerûnian Writing Challenge: Day 10

Prompt: A tearful, hard kiss before battle.

This one is so freaking soppy and self-indulgent but what the heck.

"Look at me."

Astarion does, albeit reluctantly. He swears he can almost feel his dead heart racing.

Down the steps. Across the chasm. Cazador is waiting. Ready.

And so is unfathomable power.

But in front of him, there is Yizekah. She smiles. Her helltouched irises are faintly luminescent in the green-lit dungeon. Her skin, normally a lovely ruddy copper, is washed out to a sickly blue. When she reaches up and holds his cheek in her palm, however, the warmth is as perfect as ever.

The others have stepped back, he recognizes faintly. Good. This isn't for them. He closes his eyes, breathes in her scent, listens to the beat, beat, beat of the heart that, somehow, is his as well.

"Whatever we find in there," she says, softly, too soft even for the room's echo to catch, "It does not change this." She kisses him on the crest of his cheekbones. "Whatever you choose, I will love you."

His closed eyes are burning, but he cocks a half-smile, anyway. "But...?"

She sighs, slightly, but he can hear the smile in her voice as she replies. "But you are enough, just as you are, Starry. We are enough." He feels her breath tickle his lips as she leans in. "This power is not worth your soul."

Part of him protests, gives the same excuse he's been giving all evening--this is for you, I just want us to be safe, don't you know what it's like to be under someone's thumb, to be beholden to the will of a madman--

But she does know. She knows what it is to not trust her own body. She had paid the price for seeking power, herself, with her mind, her body, her soul, and fought the gods themselves to reclaim them.

"I don't want to be afraid anymore," he whispers. Tears push through the seal of his eyelids, but she catches them, wipes them away before anyone else can see.

"I know," she replies. "Just promise me you will think about it, will you?"

He owes her that much. He nods, once, and opens his eyes. Her face is blurry, but he's spent enough time staring at it over the past few weeks to know she wears a gentle smile. His smile. The one that she saves just for him.

"You are so precious to me," she says.

That does it. She has always been so careful with him, asking before she kisses him, backing off when she senses the slightest discomfort, constantly checking on him, giving that little tilt of the head that means Are you okay?

He is not so careful now. He kisses her, deep and hard, clutching her wonderful, warm body to his own. She stiffens in surprise for a moment--it almost sends a bolt of terror through him--but then she is kissing back, melting into his hold, every curve of her body molding to his form. She throws her arms around his neck and pulls him in deeper. For the first time in more than a century, something stirs in him. More than arousal, more than desire--something deeper, something that wants to be hers as much as she is his--

A conspicuous cough startles the both of them, and Yizekah pulls back, looking sheepish. "Sorry," she says to Karlach, who stands in the corner with her arms folded. Gale looks like he is wishing he were anywhere else in Toril.

"We'll have time later, yeah?" Karlach says. "C'mon, I want to smash some undead brains in."

Yizekah releases Astarion, settling back onto her heels. "Sounds good to me. You ready, Starry Sky?"

"Alright," he grins, fangs and all. "Let's go kill this bastard."

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #10

Prompt: “The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy.”

Fandom/OCs: CottageVersity OCs (JB and Thalia)

Words: 1910

Sicknario inspo: People who don’t do physical contact from this post and being sick in a vehicle from this post.

Author’s comments/background: Ah my darling Tenbushes. This was the fic I was most looking forward to writing this year. Some of you may have noticed that within the 6, there are three pairs (other than the obvious couples) that are closer friends than with the others. Theo and Padma, Audra and Thad, and JB and Thalia are the “bestie” pairings and I hope to explore these more in the future. This fic is the explanation of how the JB/Thalia pairing came to be, since their temperaments are basically opposite in many ways. But that fact in itself is part of the explanation I suppose. Anyway, these two are super cute and very fond of each other so have a little fic about that, which was an absolute treat to write. 

~~~***~~~

Thalia was sick, and JB was pretty sure he was the only one who knew. He felt sorry for her… the timing was terrible, so it was only natural that she was hiding it–blaming her coughing and sniffling on allergies, covering her pale face and hollow eyes with makeup and carrying or wearing a sweater everywhere to keep away the chills. 

Thalia had just graduated university, along with two of her first cousins, Miriam and Jeremiah. The three of them had been born in three consecutive months in the same year, attended the same elementary and middle school, and were inseparable as kids. They remained very close through the years, though they had gone to different high schools and universities.

 Ever since middle school, the three cousins had been planning and saving for a celebratory trip after their college graduations. They wanted a grand tour of the Midwest to visit their favorite tourist and vacation spots, with Kalahari and Cedar Point in Ohio and a weekend in Chicago as the high points. The kids had done well in University, all graduating with honors, so their families had been happy to help make their dreams come true, though in fact the graduates had saved up the majority of the money on their own. The last week of June was booked for their travels, and they had begged Thad and JB to be their chaperones. The elder cousins had agreed, and in fact were honored to have been asked. The pair in turn goaded Audra into joining them to even out the numbers, and with much eye-rolling, she agreed. 

Everything went off without a hitch, and in short it was a wonderful week. In fact, it was everything the cousins had hoped for, as they said more than once. Except now, JB thought to himself, Thalia would have this negative memory of an unfortunate illness on top of the positive ones.

He was thankful for her sake that it was the last night of the trip. She was flagging more and more each day, and really needed at least a day in bed, out of the sun and away from the booze. But the schedule the threesome had been devising for years did not allow for such indulgence, and of course stubborn Thalia would never admit to such weakness, so she had been plugging along as if nothing was wrong. Whatever bug she'd caught would have likely been a simple summer cold if she hadn't been pushing her body to the limit with the rest of them for days. JB was certain from her eyes that she had a fever now, and the careful way she'd been moving recently indicated that it was an achy one. He hadn't said anything, though, knowing that would be the last thing she would want.

It was no wonder she'd willingly taken the back seat of the minivan (a loan from Jeremiah's family) for this last long leg of driving to their final hotel. In the back, she could huddle up in misery without attracting attention. JB knew he would want the same, were he in her shoes. Tonight Audra was at the wheel with Thad in the passenger seat, since he got carsick if he was too far back. Jeremiah and Miriam had claimed the middle chairs to finish a movie they'd been watching together on Miriam's laptop. That left JB and Thalia all the way in the back for the five hour stint.

Thalia had attempted to sleep at first, and he'd left her alone, trying to find a way to position his long legs that wasn't uncomfortable in the cramped quarters as he read his Kindle. Thalia was restless, though, and didn't sleep long. At first she had bunched herself against the window with her legs tucked up, but after less than an hour she woke and shifted to more of a reclining position with her head tilted back and legs stretched out. After that, she turned fully sideways with her legs up on the seat. Then, she turned again to lean forward all the way and rest her head on her hands, which were supported by her knees. The whole time she was hunched tightly into herself, her arms wrapped in a constant hug, and he could feel her shivering even in her sweater. Without a word, he slipped off his own jacket and held it out to her. She hesitated, but took it with a grateful look after a moment, covering herself as she tried to get comfortable yet again.

His heart broke for her as he watched her rotate through variations of these positions again, now with his jacket over her arms and torso, though it didn't seem to be doing her much good. Finally he could bear it no more. He nudged her foot with his to get her attention. 

“Hey, you should lean on me for a bit. You might be more comfortable.”

He expected her to refuse, or at least pause and consider it, but she immediately slumped over so her head was in his lap without a word of protest, as if she’d been waiting for such permission to be given. He froze briefly, taken aback. He and Thalia didn’t DO physical contact– with others and especially with each other, not really. Her willingness could only speak to how miserable she must have been. Recovering, he quickly covered her with his jacket again as she tucked her legs up onto the seat. His hand found its way to her back rubbing up and down as he tried to to warm her and help her relax. 

“Are you doing okay?” JB asked softly. “I can tell you haven’t been feeling well for a while now.”

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “Mostly just tired. Ready to be home.”

“I’m sorry your trip has to end this way.”

She made a strange motion, which he belatedly realized was a shrug. “It was fun while it lasted.”

He was sure her throat hurt, at least it sounded like it did, so he was going to leave her be, but she seemed to be in the mood to talk. She continued in a low voice, too low for anyone else in the van to hear: 

“I can’t believe I’m done with school. It’s a weird feeling. And I’m already doing my "grownup" job, I have been for a few months. So it’s all kinda anti-climactic.”

“You should be proud of yourself. You did well in school and you're off to a great start in your career.”

“All at the ripe young age of twenty-two.” He wasn’t sure why her tone was sarcastic, almost derogatory. She paused, then continued: “You and Thad were twenty-two when I met you for the first time.”

JB nodded. He remembered. He’d been thinking about that time in his life quite a bit this week, being around these kids. Graduation from university was a weird, memorable time. Figuring out careers, housing, life partners. He had gone on to graduate school and was already with a long-term partner, so he had it easier than most. Still, he’d never forget meeting Thad’s family for the first time the summer after they both graduated with their BBA. The anxiety, the formality. Thalia was only a pre-teen then, still all elbows and knees as a scrawny twelve year old. A tomboy, always running around with the boys in the neighborhood, always wanting to be away from her parents even then. He would never forget the flash of fear in her eyes when she was introduced to him for the first time. He was used to that, of course. As large as he was, he intimidated most people when they first met him. This was his boyfriend’s little sister, though, and he hated the idea that he scared her. 

The fear didn’t last long, thankfully. Thalia warmed to him quickly, at least for a middle-schooler. JB was her opposite even back then, reserved where she was exuberant, serious where she was silly. Yet he sensed that she felt relaxed around him. Perhaps around him, she didn’t feel the need to be “on” all the time. That’s what he hoped was the case, anyway. 

“I wonder if I’ll ever meet my person. Like you and Thad have,” Thalia said, barely audible. 

So that’s what was bothering her. It was understandable, really. Miriam and Jeremiah had their “people”. Miriam was engaged, Jeremiah soon to be so. It was only natural that Thalia was feeling left out and probably lonely. 

“Of course you’ll find your person. You are so driven that I have no doubt you’ll achieve whatever you set your mind to, including love.”

“I didn't think love worked that way.”

“Who says it doesn’t? I fully believe if you want something badly enough and are prepared to receive it, the universe or karma or whatever will provide.”

“I thought you were an atheist.”

“I don’t have to believe in any holy being to believe in the power of magnetism. And you have that in spades, hon. If you want love, you’ll find love. Of that I have no doubt.”

“Thanks, JB. I needed to hear that." A pause, then: "I’m glad you’re my brother. I like you better than my actual brothers most of the time.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. She was sleepy and feverish (he was starting to sweat just from her touching him), and he knew he’d probably never hear her speak this way again, but it was sweet to hear regardless, because he knew she was speaking from her heart, without the usual screen of sarcasm. 

“Well I’m honored to be your brother. You’re the best sister I could have ever hoped to have.”

A thought occurred to him, and before she could fall asleep, he nudged her to sit up and handed her an unopened bottle of water from beside him. She rolled her eyes but drank a good amount before leaning against him again with a huge yawn, this time with her side pressed against his and her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and hugged her against himself since he still felt her shivering. 

He really thought she fell asleep after that, but once again she startled him by speaking up a few minutes later:

“The hotel we’re going to has a really great bookstore across the street. That’s why I picked it. Do you think we’ll have time to go browse before we check in?”

“The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy. You need something for that fever. If you’re feeling better tomorrow, then maybe we can talk. Besides, it’ll probably be closed by the time we get there.”

“Not if we go BEFORE we check in, like I said.”

“We’ll see. But pharmacy first.”

Thalia sighed, then nodded. “It’s a deal. As long as you don’t tell them what we’re stopping for.”

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I need a laxative. That’ll head off any awkward questions.”

“...do you need a laxative?” 

“None of your business. No awkward questions, remember?”

She laughed. “Thanks, JB. You really are the best.”

“You too, kid.”

Minutes later she was dead weight against him, fast asleep, trusting him. He kept his arm around her until they stopped again, knowing that that was what both of them needed.

[fluentfridays]

Prompt #10

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?