#also don't be afraid to send in your own prompts

[ourrosette]

Writing Tip:

One thing I do when writing is play a little game called hide the detail. This tip may already exist under a different name and maybe it could technically fall under the category of "Show, don't tell"... But this is how I was able to actually integrate "showing" into my writing.

Say you have a detail you need to include into your work but it feels a little clunky and out of place. What can you do to make that detail to feel more seamless? Using a chunk of my own writing, I will demonstrate:

The hallway between my bedroom was short enough to see the kitchen from where I lay in bed.

Not a bad start! But this feels a little too clunky for my taste. There's too much unnecessary detail considering I already provided context as to where the MC is located earlier, so we can cut some of that out. But where's the fun? Where's the pizazz? Now it's time to play hide the detail! I can do a few things:

Describe how the MC feels about the detail

Connect the detail to another person or event

Explain it using scenery

Combine it with another detail already provided

What I opted to do was hide the detail through describing how the MC feels, which adds additional context and makes the sentence read more like a train of thought rather than a statement of fact.

The short hallway provides ample opportunity to see the kitchen from my vantage point, an aspect of the small apartment I’ve cursed until this moment.

This version adds feeling, gives a better description of the apartment, and hints at the MC's personality as well.

Again, this may just be me repackaging "Show not tell" but this game is the only way I've been able to understand what they're trying to get at.

Happy Writing!!!

[sakuravalelp]

Phantom letters - DPXDC PROMPT

The bats wake up one day to the internet going crazy; people around the world were getting letters from they're diseased loved ones. The reactions are mixed, from people being outraged for the "prank" to people crying in melancholy at getting closure.

All the letters have something in common: They're closed with a green sealing wax that had an stylize DP and the name Phantom beneath it. Posts about the cards were using the # Phantom Letters.

The bats are discussing the viral posts in the cave when Alfred comes holding a basket filled with letters, announcing they were left at the doors. The letters had the sealing wax that they recognize from the posts. Checking the cameras they can see how they glitch before the basket appears.

Alfred starts to distribute the letters that had only one destinatary. Letters from each Thomas and Martha to both Bruce and Alfred. Letters from each John and Mary to Dick. A letter from Catherine to Jason. A letter from the Drake's to Tim, and another one to Bruce.

Once they had calmed down enough from the shock, Alfred proceeded to read the shared recipients. From Thomas and Martha to "The grandchildren we never got to meet." From John and Mary to "the family that took our little Robin in." Letters from Catherine to "My little boys family." The letters were directed to people the deceased didn't get to meet.

As much as the mere existence of the letters tugged at their hearts, they decided to not read them until they verified that the handwriting actually belong to the ones it claimed. They checked each letter, and in the end confirmed the letters were in fact from they're lost love ones.

After much discussion, each person makes the decision to read they're own letters later in private, and they proceed to read the ones that shared recipients out loud. The letter mentioned specifics like names and events that the deceased shouldn't have been able to know, including they're vigilante abilities, which had them pause each time to panic a bit. But what was more interested were certain pieces of the letters that mentioned a Prince Phantom.

"Prince Phantom said to don't mention things past our death, but it wasn't a command, so we're hoping this won't be much of a problem." - John and Mary

"I still can't believe Prince Phantom is letting us do this, but I'm so glad." - Catherine

It finally paints the mystery in a more concerning light when at the end of Thomas and Martha's letter there is a call for help.

"We're sorry for ending the letter on a serious tone, but seeing the kind of job you all get involved in, we wanted to ask: Could you please help Prince Phantom? Phantom had asked us to not give information about this, but he's so young, and has already been hurt so much. Please, check on Amity Park, Illinois."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Meanwhile, team Phantom has decided that they needed to get the news about the GIW out of Amity and ask for help. Two problems:

the GIW blocks any technological attempt made.

People might be afraid to learn that ghosts exist and side with the GIW.

As a way to deal with the public image, Phantom opens a possibility that the death have never had:

"All afterlives are open to write letters to their love ones that are still alive today. Nothing that includes threats, and don't go talking about the anti-ecto acts or Amity Park yet, we're trying to ease people into our existence first. Also, I know you all check on your love ones when the veil is thin, but please keep the things you shouldn't know out of the letters if possible. If you want your letter to be sent in the first batch, make sure to deliver your letter before the week ends."

Letters are a good way to reconnect people with the death, they aren't digital, and the GIW won't be able to intercept letters if they're send through inter-dimensional portals. Two birds in one shot.

[lnfours]

Hiii love! I’ve read your work and honestly its amazing. I cannot find your prompt list unfortunately but could you write one of LN4 where there is one bed, enemies to lovers, and lando holding onto her because she is afraid of thunderstorm (lights also went out). Thankyouu 🫶🫶

thank you anon! 🙁 and that's totally okay! even if you guys don't see a prompt on the list that is necessarily catching your eye, feel free to send in your own thoughts!

anyways, this was super fun! i love enemies to lovers (not as much as i love friends to lovers.. iykyk) i hope you enjoy this, anon! <33

join the 12k and annual celebration!

you tossed and turned in the queen sized bed, huffing quietly to yourself. you couldn't tell if it was the jetlag, the storm outside that howled, or if it was because there was a man next to you. the man you swore you'd never be within five feet of. but here you are, sharing a bed. unwillingly.

"would you stop moving?" lando grumbled, bringing the pillow he was once laying on over his head to block out the noise you were making with the sheets.

"sorry," you sighed, "can't sleep."

"well, i can't sleep when you're making it impossible."

you glanced over your shoulder at him, his cheek pressed against his arm and the pillow over his head. he looked ridiculous, but also... adorable.

"well sorry, it's just storms and i don't get along," you mumbled, "plus i'm not used to sharing a bed, yet alone with someone i don't like."

"you're telling me out of all the things in the world to be afraid of, you're scared of a little thunderstorm?"

"shut up."

the rain was hitting against the hotel room windows harshly, the sky lighting up with every flash of lightning. that wasn't what bothered you, it was the rolling of the thunder. the loud, off-putting booms in the sky.

and as if right on queue, thunder boomed loudly in the distance and the sky light up. the grand finale was when the sound of the power surging cut through the quiet air, every little bit of light disappearing as the storm knocked the power out of the building. you jumped the tiniest bit, but it didn't go unnoticed by him.

he reached out, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to the middle of the bed. you turned to ask him what he was doing, but when you turned your head you were inches away from his face. his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. one arm around your waist, the other stretched out in front of you as your back met his chest. your head on his shoulder, and all you could think about was how nice this felt.

"don't argue," he mumbled, "just go to sleep. i've got you."

[dinogoofymutated]

Uhhh, so can I request something about Wolverine where both he and reader have a crush on each other but he won't show it and she is too afraid of rejection to confess, however, when Xavier sends reader to talk to Wolverine about their mission, she walks into his room and finds him top topless which only frustrates her more and leads to Logan noticing that and taking his chances to check her feelings 😓 Ahem you can make it NSFW according to the last thing I implied to 👀 hopefully this is not too out of character but I really crave any content about this man 😓😓😓

Also excuse my language if there are any mistakes, English us not my first language 🫡

SFW! Wolverine/GN!Reader

This is such a good prompt!! I hope this does justice for your vision!! Also- don't worry, your English is very good!! Hope it's okay that I implied NSFW instead of wrote it out explicitly. I didn't quite have the energy to get that far 😭

TWs: not many. Miscommunication. Reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned.

Anyone around the mansion could tell that something weird was going on between you and Logan.

You were always really jumpy and nervous around him. You'd squirm and fiddle with your hands when sat next to him, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else. You could be quick to lose your temper at him sometimes and you clearly dreaded training sessions with him. Most people just thought you hated the man, but the one time Jean had seen a peak into your mind she certainly knew the truth. The professor probably knew too, to be honest.

You were hopelessly pining for the man- But you'd never, ever confess to him. He was in love with Jean. He had been in love with Jean for years. There was no chance he ever had feelings for you. So- instead of facing these feelings, you had a bad tendency to run from them. Being around him made you jittery and nervous, sitting next to him made your heart beat crazily and you had a short temper with him because he was always running headfirst into danger. It didn't matter that he had a healing factor, you didn't like that he was endangering himself like that.

Logan, on the other hand, was always stoic. He treated you like any other X-man or friend. It didn't matter how his heart fluttered around you or the heat that rose to his cheeks every time you did something particularly attractive, he wasn't exactly an expert in love. He certainly had a hard time showing it. What he did notice though, was the change in your demeanor lately. You had been acting so strange, and it's gotten to the point where you'd straight up leave the room when he would enter, and he was frustrated. Logan was starting to get fed up with your newfound attitude, and despite Jean's gentle nudging, he certainly wasn't going to tell you what he felt for you. What he thought about you. If anything, It would give you more of a reason to hate him.

You had been successfully avoiding Logan for a while, having been in a particularly good mood today. That was until the professor pulled you aside and asked- well, told you to brief Logan about the upcoming mission. Your heart immediately dropped into your stomach. You, alone with him? In the same room? The professor was tasking you to dive into your own personal hell- and there was no way he didn't know that! All he did when you began to complain and make excuses was smile knowingly at you.

You swore that you had dissociated the entire time you had been walking to his room. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to be here, you didn't want to talk to him. Nope! You were absolutely dreading it.

You Knock three times. After a second of silence, you already find yourself overthinking your knock. Was it too loud? Too quiet? Maybe he could already smell it was you, and is just ignoring the knock so he doesn't have to look at your stupid flushed face-

"Come in." Okay, So, not that. You open his door slowly, not wanting to seem too eager to enter. You're looking down at the paperwork the entire time, mouth already running with the time of day everyone would be leaving, Which suits to wear, where you were going. You don't even look up until after the door has already been shut.

"There's a few more factors that need to be taken account of when we manage to get a better survey of the location but-" You yelp when you look up, greeted by a shirtless Logan, clothed only by a low-hanging pair of gray sweatpants. You're quick to cover your eyes, face burning from a mixture of embarrassment and... well, something else.

"For the love of god, Logan!" You gasp. You can hear Logan chuckle at your reaction, and the action lights a spark of anger inside of you.

"The least you can do is be decent when you invite me in!" You snap at him. He huffs a little at the change of tone, meanwhile you're trying your absolute best to forget how you practically saw everything in those sweatpants. You hear him take a few steps forwards until he's standing so close you can feel the heat from his body.

"So what? You've patched me up before. It's not like you've never seen me naked." Logan sounds annoyed, and you feel guilty for your reaction for a moment. You sigh, shaking your head.

"That's different." You say. Logan hums.

"Is it really?" His tone is teasing, and you almost feel humiliated. He's making fun of you. Of course he was. You were absolutely hopeless.

"Look, Just forget it. Take the damn papers and read the brief yourself." Your eyes are still closed as you slam the papers into what you think is his chest and try to turn to leave, but Logan grabs your arm. He doesn't even try to pick them up as he grabs the top of your arms, keeping you from running away as he walks you backwards.

"Look, I get that I'm not the easiest guy to get along with, but ya' never had a problem with me before. What's happened?" Logan's words start out rough, but if you didn't know any better you'd think that there was a little vulnerability leaking into his tone. You gasp as the surface of the cold door hits your back. You keep your eyes firmly shut, still not willing to open them and look at him. You didn't want to see his face, worried that you'd blush even more or he'd manage to figure it out- if he hadn't already. He'd just make fun of you. He wouldn't take you seriously. Would he?

"Nothing. Nothing has happened, happy?" You say, nerves creeping into your unsteady voice. It's hardly a lie, nothing really happened, but Logan had a habit of stiffing out dishonesty. He growls, and the sound makes your skin prickle.

"Don't lie to me. You can hardly look me in the eye." Logan growls. You scoff at him.

"That's not true!" A blatant lie, and you were sure it was obvious. Still, part of you was hoping he'd simply let it go. You should have known better, because everyone under the sun knew that Logan was one of the most stubborn men on the planet

"Prove it. Look at me." His words make you hesitate. You frown, not wanting to give in. Unstoppable force meets unmovable object- but with every push you feel your nerves start to go shot. You were anxious, flustered, worried- you just wanted it to all be over. If you just opened your eyes, it would all be over.

"Open your eyes, doll." You can feel Logan's breath fan across your face, and in the mix of shock, you finally open your eyes. Logan is so close to your face you can feel his breathing. You hardly know where to look, face flushing red as you blush as the close-contact. You get nervous when you make eye contact, gaze flittering about from his nose, to his ears, his sideburns, and to his lips. You must have let your eyes linger there for a little too long, because Logan starts to chuckle at you. You feel the sting of embarrassment. Logan sees something in your face shift, and knowing you'd just pull away again, he takes a shot in the dark.

Logan kisses you, and you have no clue how to respond to that at first. You go wide-eyed for a moment, but his hands let go of your arms and wrap around you and you cant help but melt into the kiss. He's a good kisser. I mean, with years of experience, you knew he would be. But getting to experience that yourself gave you a whole new perspective to it. He cups the back of your neck as he draws you in for another kiss, again and again. You're breathing hard when the two of you finally separate, Logan being mostly unbothered besides a small smile and a red tint to his cheeks.

"All that drama, and it's because you had feelings f'me. Heh." -is the first thing he says. You gasp, offended.

"Oh-shut up. S'not like you're any better than I am." You frown, sliding a hand around the back of his neck to yank him closer. "Seriously, you weren't exactly dropping hints." Logan chuckles again, Before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up and against him. You yelp as he does so, getting flustered when you realize that you could now feel everything that you had been trying to forget seeing earlier.

"I'm kissing you now, aren't I?"

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Hello uuhh.....can you make yandere twisted wonderland characters react to a female reader who hates/afraid love plss???

Prompt: He could hardly believe his ears when he heard you say that you didn't believe in love.

Pairing: Any Yan!TWST Boy of your choice x GN!Reader/ Yuu/ Prefect

Genre: Yandere

TW: I mean, it is like, yandere stuff so a natural tw for that. Other than that, if there's anything I've missed, please let me know ^^

AN: I've taken many creative liberties with this request, and I hope you don't mind. In my experience, most people who claim to hate live or be afraid of it typically do not believe in it or have been hurt too badly by a loved one to care for it. So I went with the reader/yuu/prefect not believing in love. I'm also much more comfortable with writing gn!readers than fem or even male, so I hope you don't mind me writing it in such a format. Hope you enjoy!

He could hardly believe his ears when he heard you say that you didn't believe in love.

The information was never actually meant for his ears. It was something you muttered in passing to one of your friends, shaking your head with a wry smile on your face. Those syllables were never meant to grace his ears, but they did, and now he found himself in a dilemma.

You, of all people in NRC. You, who helped not only him, but so many others with their problems, stopping overblots despite being magic less. Doing so much while you gained so little, empty promises made by those who were meant to help your vulnerable self in an unfamiliar world. Never asking for anything in return as you employed every trick, every last bit of strength to take care of those who had endeared themselves to you.

You were the very personification of love in his eyes.

You didn't believe in it?

He didn't know what hurt more; you not believing in the concept of true love, or the prospect of you never falling in love with him.

Love had never been his first priority. He was at NRC for his own reasons, educational and otherwise. So when you came and flipped his world upside down, with your unassuming smiles and freely given affection, with your gentle and helping nature, he was hooked. He was in love. And you didn't believe in it?

Would this mean that you didn't believe in him, in his devotion to you? Would you reject his care, his concerns, his love for you if he revealed it?

Perhaps someone hurt you before, he reasoned, pacing his room. Hurt you enough for you to lose any hope in the emotion, perhaps even despise it. His blood boiled in his veins at the thought that someone could hurt you so badly, so deeply that you would deny yourself love, and deny him the opportunity, no– right, to love you.

Love was freedom. Love was madness. Love had sunk its claws into him, sending his very soul into the depths of hell and the highs of heaven simultaneously. It was beautiful and ugly, kind and cruel, imperfect yet so heartbreakingly perfect.

It was you.

And yet you did not believe in it?

He should have let go. He should have been content with what little of you he could get, be content with sharing your attention with the many others who were your ardent admirers.

But he couldn't let it be. He couldn't let you go through life without experiencing what you did to him. What you made of him.

He would help you, just like you helped everyone you came across. Help you see just how liberating love could be, even as he shackled you to himself. Help you see how utterly devoted one could be, even if he went against your wishes. He would help you see just how high love could take you, even as he became the reason an angel like you fell from your place in heaven. He would sully his hands if the need arose to let you know how much, and how deeply you affected him.

He would help you feel and recognize love.

So that one day you could recognize him as a product of love.

Your love.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Cute As A Button (Supernatural One-Shot)

Dean Winchester x AFAB!GN!Reader 18+ / requests are open

Summary: smut prompt based on the word "button."

Fic type: smut

SPN: @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Look atcha, gorgeous. Cute as a button, you are," Dean says, giving your clit a little tap as his eyes flicked up to meet with your own from between your legs.

You broke the connection, the intimacy making you just a touch flushed. Dean tutted, those ever-smirking lips of his curling up at the sides. Warm hands trailed up your thighs, thumbs hooking under your ass so he can spread your cunt wide for his viewing pleasure.

"Yep," Dean groaned, practically salivating at the sight of you. "Criminal. Absolutely criminal to have a pussy this pretty."

Your cheeks flushed darker, your thighs fighting the urge to close around his hands. You know if you did that that he'd end up punishing you by not letting you cum or slapping your pussy condescendingly.

"You gonna arrest me, officer?" You asked, trailing your fingers down your ribs sensually. If Dean's answering tortured moan was anything to go by, he wasn't opposed to that idea.

"Don't tempt me," he replied, chewing on the corner of his lip as filthy thoughts and images plagued his mind. "My little criminal. God, that's hot."

"You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied cheekily, trying to shift some of the attention from yourself. Dean gave you a wink and at the same time brushed his tongue over your clit. You fought the urge to grind up against his face.

"Naw, darlin', are you getting sweet on me, huh?" He asked, eyes raking down your form with so much heat they practically scorched your flesh with liquid sin from collarbone to naval. One charmed smile and you were a puddle on the floor.

"You idiot, I've always been sweet on you," you replied breathily as his right hand slid from your outer thighs down to play at your labia. The teasing touches kept you hovering on that edge, knowing there would be pleasure if he only moved his fingers a little ways above or a little ways left. "Stop teasing me, Dean."

"Me? Sorry sweetheart, never-" he said, though he also sunk two fingers inside you and curved them just a little to hook right into that spot that made you turn to mush for him, so, technically you still got what you wanted.

"Y-yeah," you replied, muscles in your thighs twitching. "Sounds about right. My mistake."

Dean snorted with laughter, curling his fingers to rub against your insides. You squirmed a little which earned you another tut and the sight of Dean crawling just a little further up so he could plant his lips over your clit and lave his tongue over it.

Your head dropped back onto the pillows behind you, legs widening to fit as much of Dean's lithe body between them as you could. There really was nothing quite like the feel of someone's body heat rubbing up against you while they worshipped at the altar of your body.

Dean's fingers started to move in tandem with his tongue, slowly at first, building in pace to create a heady fog of ecstasy that expanded from your pelvis and slowly started creeping up your spine, causing it to bow and bend as the pleasure rolled over you.

"O-oh, fuck, Dean- right there-" you mumbled incoherently as his fingers massaged into one of those spots that made you lose your mind when it was stimulated just right.

Then he was sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking back and forth over it as his fingers shot like pistons inside your cunt. You hadn't thought your back could bow any further, and yet here you were, afraid that your spine might snap if he prays at your altar any harder.

The onslaught of stimulation proves too much, and all it takes is for those molten eyes to make contact with yours once and you're coming undone for him.

Mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm rips through your body, you reach blindly for something to hold onto- coming to rest on Dean's hair. He groans against your cunt but doesn't let up, and your legs start to quiver uncontrollably.

Your voice returns and your breathless, silent scream turns into a wild groan. You leave him where he is for just another few moments, lapping up the last few rolls of pleasure that you can handle before you use your grip on his hair to pull his mouth off your clit.

"Hey," he protested somewhat breathlessly, lips puffy and chin soaked. "I wasn't done."

His fingers slow, letting you ride out the pleasure and slowly come to a stop. You can feel your cunt twitching around his fingers, spasming as your body releases those endorphins that make you feel so goddamn good after a hard fuck.

"Yeah, I think you were," you panted, loosening your grip on his hair. Dean withdrew his fingers, twisting them so he could see your slick painting them.

Wiping them on his boxers, he crawled up your body. He sunk down on top you, the warmth of his skin spreading across your own. Dean leaned up, muscled arms caging you in.

"Yeah," he said, a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead. "Definitely cute as a button."

[fawnfictions]

i know there’s a lot of this same prompt on this app but i love your writing and i would love to see it from you <33

OK!! Macaque and Wukong with a gender natural reader which simply LOVES their fur and gets really clingy on their tail and ear(s for macaque :3), treating them like a literal plushie

monkie plush!

— wukong & macaque, gn!reader

i feel the need to personally apologise for how many months it took for me to post this <//3 i've been SO SLOW recently,, i can't guarantee i'll be getting any faster, either

heheuwudhhey!! none of u should worry about sending me an ask with a 'common' prompt—just because someone else has done it before, doesn't mean i won't want to write it!!! i like giving ppl my own opinion on these sorts of headcanons LOL

;; fluff, fluff, and more fluff!! (+mention of something more spicy, but nothing explicit)...

WUKONG

- he RELISHES in any affection you give him, and he isn't afraid to show it.

- you'll come up behind him, embrace him while rubbing your face in his fur, and he will MELT.

- leans back into your arms, wrapping his tail around you to pull you even closer; and, if you're listening closely, you might hear quiet purring.

- honestly, he'll do the same to you — compared to monkey hair, human hair is VERY soft and feels very nice :3

- cuddles between you two are just constantly rubbing your faces in each others hair.

- i can also imagine that his tail would be sensitive, as most monkey's tails are...

- be careful, though, because certain areas of his tail are more sensitive than others — you may run into a situation you didn't mean to...

- ...ANYWAYS

- while i can imagine him being the big spoon a majority of the time, he could TOTALLY be a little spoon.

- he enjoys being able to hold YOU, since he likes feeling in control, and as if he's protecting you, but he'll happily sit back and let you cuddle him.

- play with his hair, twirl his tail, brush him...

- tbh, the other monkeys would probably join you a lot, interpreting it as a grooming session.

- me and the boys [monkeys], grooming each other on a sunday morning.

- he will complain, though, if you don't let him cuddle YOU sometimes.

- you two are almost sickening with the amount of PDA you show; cue MK pretending to puke in the background, but Wukong does have SOME decency, and will get a little embarrassed if you take it too far.

- if you're both out in public, chilling in Megapolis or something, and you start rubbing your face in his fur and cooing at him? he'll go red pretty quickly, and shyly respond with small affections in an attempt to sate your clinginess for now.

- this especially goes for being around people he feels the need to keep a reputation up with — like, the brotherhood, although most of them would laugh it off, they'll tease him for it at some point, or anyone from the celestial realm.

- he'll make it up to you later with plenty of cuddles, but for now? he's gotta look cool and tough in front of lil' old Nezha /j

MACAQUE

- hes touch starved as hell (we all know it).

- BUT he gets shy when it comes to affection, but he's hypocritical about it...

- constantly drapes himself over your shoulders, resting his head on top of your own when he gets the chance, etc etc.

- however, if you DARE even try to hug him, he's gonna get real nervous.

- doesn't know how to properly relax at your touch; he may not exactly move away from you, but he won't lean into it (at first).

- this especially goes for PDA – he loves you, but not now; he's gotta look cool and mysterious at all times.

- if you're with people that he lets his guard down around, he'll be a bit more playful with you.

- he notices you attempting to sneak behind him for a cuddle attack? next thing you know, theres a familiar cape-covered arm thrown over your shoulder, blocking your affection with his own with a teasing smile.

- he IS different when in private, though !!

- more willing to give in to your touches, but it is clear that he's unsure how to feel about it.

- after a while, though, i feel that he would learn to find a lot of comfort in your hands ?

- like, if he's had a rough day, he'll probably seek you out to be showered in affection,, in a way, it makes him feel very loved and worthy.

- he's such a little spoon too, i'm sorry LOL

- but he has his confident days, just ask and he'll be happy to be the one holding you instead.

- it took a while for him to be comfortable with normal affection, yeah? well, it's gonna take even LONGER for him to be comfortable with touching his ears, let alone losing the glamour on them.

- the day he lets his glamour down around you, is the day he's decided that you're stuck with him forever, sorry to break it to you...

- his ears are VERY sensitive, so please be careful, he's very cautious with you touching them.

- but he'll never admit how nice it feels for you to massages his ears, especially with how much stress they give him from the loud noises in the city (not that you can't tell, he's practically melted into your lap and would ABSOLUTELY be purring if he could).

- overall, it takes time, and he won't ever be fully comfortable with PDA, but he's a big softie in private <3

[imagining-in-the-margins]

New Beginnings CM Challenge 🌱

The following are prompts involving a new relationship, fresh start, etc.!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

🌧 Prompts 🌱

Describe Character's first day at the BAU

Character celebrates a milestone of sobriety

Characters are getting the hang of being new parents

Character goes overboard with New Year’s Resolutions

Character decides to try something new in the bedroom

Character is entering the dating scene after their divorce

Character changes career paths with a very different job

Character introduces their new partner to their kid

Character comes out as trans and introduces themselves

Character finally agrees to get set up with a date after a long dry spell

Character learns to navigate their everyday life after a traumatic event

Character escapes an abusive relationship and the recovery is harder than they thought

Character swears that this year they will definitely fulfill all their New Year's resolutions

Character just came out as LGB and goes on their first date with someone of the same sex

Character decides to cut off a member(s) of their family, and the team reminds them that they still have a whole lot of (found) family left

Character lost a partner and swore they would never love like that again... but that hasn't stopped them from falling in love in a different way

Character got a pet for the first time and they realize how much easier it is to take care of themselves when someone else is counting on them

Character had previously come out as something, but then realized they were something else... coming out is even more daunting the second time

More prompts below + Make your own!

🌤 Dialogue Prompts🌻

"The time will pass anyway." (Earl Nightingale)

"If you jump, I jump with you."

"I can't wait to see who you become."

"I love every possible iteration of you."

"To be brave, you must first be afraid." (Bear Grylls)

"You aren't alone in this. None of us are." (Baldur's Gate 3)

"Is it too late to go back?" "Don't you dare."

"This is all new to me." "What?" "Being happy."

"I don't know what I'm doing." "No one does. That's life."

"There are always a million reasons not to do something." (The Office)

🌒Character Specific Prompts🌲

Spencer's life after prison is nothing like before

Spencer decides to pursue his dream of being a cowboy/rancher

Spencer becomes dedicated to turning his life around after relapsing

Spencer doesn't think about Maeve on a special occasion for the first time

Hotch finally stops wearing his old wedding ring

Hotch embraces his role as a single dad

JJ's children are almost grown, and she struggles to reconnect with who she was before she was their mother

Penelope realizes she doesn’t like the person she’s become after leaving the BAU, so she decides to change

Lauren Reynolds died—it’s time Emily start acting like it

Rossi struggles with suddenly becoming a (grand)father

🍂Rules🍃

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will be posted around March 1. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy Writing!

[writing-reference-redux]

Halloween Prompts

60 ideas for writers and artists!

Either choose your own prompt, or ask your followers to choose for you by sending you a character or ship and the number or emoji. Also, let people know if you welcome combos (combining two prompts into a single story or art piece)!

🎃 - Pumpkin carving time!

🍭 - Candy eating contest!

🫣 - Let me tell you a scary story...

🙅 - In support of the Halloween-disliker

💬 - I'm scared, and I'm going to text you all about it

🤒 - What do you mean you're sick? It's Halloween!

😳 - I have never been so embarrassed in my life

😱 - Don't worry! They're just wearing costumes!

🍷 - A little tipsy, a little spooked

☕️ - Pumpkin spice and everything nice

🍁 - The leaves are lovely this time of year

🌙 - A stroll in the moonlight

💃 - Dance the fright away

💔 - Halloween heartbreak

❤️‍🩹 - Halloween heart-mending

💍 - A Halloween proposal

🛏️ - Getting spooky in the sheets (always practice safe hex)

📖 - An armchair, a bathrobe, and a good creepy book

📺 - Let's stay in and watch scary movies

🍿 - How about we go see that new horror flick?

🛒 - What do you mean I bought too many decorations?

🪡 - Adventures in costume making

💅 - Trust me, you're going to look great!

👥 - The perfect couple's costume idea

🧼 - Your makeup really won't wash off?

🥸 - They can't tell that it's me in this costume!

🍬 - We're (not) too old to go trick-or-treating

😈 - No treat, all trick

🏚️ - Two tickets for the haunted house, please

🕯️ - A little bit of candlelight

🔦 - Are you afraid of the dark?

👂 - Did you hear that?

👀 - I'm probably just seeing things

👻 - Do you believe in ghosts?

🧛 - Vampires aren't real... right?

🧟 - The dead walk (or run, or mosey, or swim...)

🐺 - Werewolves and other fuzzy menaces

🧙 - Are you a good witch or a bad witch?

🤡 - Clowns aren't THAT scary

🪓 - Didn't you hear there's an axe-man on the loose?

💀 - Is that skeleton rattling in this direction?

🐙 - It came from beneath the waves

🧠 - It's all in your head (no, really... it's in there)

🎭 - Possession for fun and profit

🤫 - Shh! It will hear you!

🕷️ - Eight-legged guests

🐈‍⬛ - Black cats need love, too

🐦‍⬛ - An unkindness of ravens, a murder of crows...

😴 - Nightmares can't hurt you

🧸 - Children shouldn't play with creepy things

👩🏽‍💻 - An online presence

📦 - What's in the box?

🪦 - We'll just take a quick shortcut through the graveyard

🔤 - Tell me that isn't a Ouija board

📜 - An unfortunate artifact

📕 - Volume of the damned

📼 - I wonder what's on this old VHS tape

🖼️ - A portrait of very bad things

🚪 - A strange door to... somewhere

🎶 - The reanimation of the ancient being known as a "songfic"

[letters-from-ikemen]

Recruitment

Hello! This is Letters-From-Ikemen, a blog centered around the idea of those in the fandom sending requests to receive a letter from their favorite character, or for someone they know to receive one instead.

If you look at the blog, you can see that it doesn't look fully set up yet- and you are correct. I wanted to showcase a recruitment form to gather those who are willing to help with this project; from helping moderate to helping write and send the letters themselves. Below is a form, and under the cut I am going to discuss the proposed idea of how this blog will work, as well as some rules it would have (subject to change).

In order to offer help with this blog, you will need to join a discord server for ease of communication.

General Rules, for now:

The games to request letters from are Ikesen, Ikevamp, Ikepri, and Ikevil

NSFW content is not allowed at the moment. Suggestive at most, unless decided otherwise- and this will still depend on whoever decides to reply to the letter and their comfort levels.

Letters will not have a set quota for 'delivery'. This means that we are not going to push to respond to a certain number of letters weekly or similar, as we don't want to stress out those writing these for fun.

This blog will post the letters publicly while tagging the recipient, using fandoms tags as well, unless otherwise requested. At that point, it will be sent as an ask to the recipient. The recipient must have their inbox open.

When we gather members, we will have a public list of writers who are helping. This is to give credit to the writers, not as a request form for specific writers.

When people apply to join, if we do not cover all available characters in these games, we will have a public list of what all characters are currently accepting letter requests.

Anon will be enabled for requests and questions.

Please be respectful regarding requesting letters. Remember that there are real people behind the screen responding to these.

Requesting letters to use a specific nickname, name (oc or otherwise), is encouraged, but please understand that those responding will not have intimate details of your ocs.

After some time, we will come up with an easy prompt-list to use when suggesting.

For Joining:

18 or older. Not due to adult content matter, just due to the subject matter of the games and my own personal comfort.

You must join a discord server for ease of communication.

The discord server will be sharing the requests in designated channels, general help with reviewing responses if needed, and similar.

The form is not a promise that you will be able to join.

As stated above, we're not going to aim for a certain amount of letters to be sent in a specific timeframe. I'm unsure of how busy this blog could get, but I want this to stay fun and as stressfree as possible for those involved.

In the case that you receive a letter for you, the request will be spoiler blocked with an explanation so you don't have to be spoiled regarding it.

It is fine if you are uncomfortable writing a letter for a specific person, but being rude about it is an absolute no-go and will be enforced strongly.

Please feel free to ask questions.

If you're interesting in moderating, please don't be afraid to say so. This would come with specific discord roles, but limited blog roles for a time unless I know you very well, just due to how tumblr blogs do not have many admin options like discord does.

The ideal situation for this blog would be to gather a few folks to help moderate it, while also gathering writers who are willing to write for any characters from Ikesen, Ikevamp, Ikevil, and Ikepri. Not one sole person would be in charge for replying for a specific character (Ie; there would not be only one person writing Chev letters, there will be a few who will rotate based on availability/comfort with the subject matter.)

Those who help moderate would be appreciated as writers as well! You don't have to do one or the other, both is fine! Just please be aware of stress levels.

-

I will also be transparent and state that this is a blog heavily inspired by the @/ikemenpostoffice blog, that unfortunately deactivated. Before it had deactivated, I had inquired if they would be upset if someone wanted to do a similar blog, and got approval to do so. I thought it was a very positive idea that was a good way to spread kindness to the fandom, and it's a shame that the OP of the blog was harassed and felt very hurt by what had happened.

[phoebe-delia]

the best people in life are free

Okay so I'm breaking my own rule and doing a Taylor Swift songfic for the Phoebe Tries to Write Again Challenge. To be fair, I did write most of this a while back. I'm just finally dusting it off. This is inspired by "New Romantics" by Taylor Swift, which is also a @drarrymicrofic prompt.

"I bet I'm faster than you."

That's all Draco says before he flashes Harry a wild grin and then sprints down the sidewalk like a madman, his arms spread wide as if he's trying to hug the rain coming down around them. Harry groans to himself and starts after him, almost losing his balance on the slick path.

Draco's clearly paying no mind to the irritated pedestrians who barely move out of his way in time, nor does he seem to be worried about the hazardously wet streets. The Malfoy that Harry knew growing up wouldn't willingly be outside in this weather without an umbrella charm, let alone dashing gleefully through dirty puddles through the crowds in a major city.

But then again, Draco hasn't been Malfoy in a long time.

Harry is relieved when Draco finally slows to a stop, sticking out his tongue to catch the raindrops. That lets Harry start to catch up to him, and for a brief moment, Harry fears that Draco will take off running again when he sees him.

Instead, he throws his arms around Harry's neck and kisses him soundly, and Harry lets the rest of the world fade to white noise. The kiss is deep and exploratory, and Draco tastes like the rain, and Harry nearly forgets about the risk of slipping on the sidewalk.

His senses return to him once they pull apart. Draco grins like he's won something hard-earned.

"What got into you? Aren't you afraid of getting sick, standing in this? Have you gone mad?" Harry's trying to scold but coming across far too fond.

"Mad for you, maybe," Draco waggles his eyebrows. He leans down and gives Harry a soft, short peck on the lips.

But Harry doesn't let it go so easily. "You've surely ruined your shoes, not to mention your socks. Why did you do that?"

"Because I can, Harry." Draco's expression sobers, and he lifts a hand to cup Harry's cheek, thumb wiping away a raindrop. "Don't you ever want to do things just because you can? Because no one can stop you?"

"I-" Harry starts to argue, and then he lets out a laugh that's more of a huff. "Merlin, and I thought I was supposed to be the Gryffindor."

"You are. That doesn't mean I won't still keep you on your toes, Potter," Draco smirks.

The sound of thunder causes them both to startle a bit and look up at the storm, which picks up speed. Draco takes Harry's hand. "Come on!" He takes off jogging down the sidewalk, pulling Harry with him.

"Draco, where are we going?" Harry nearly stumbles as he tries to match the pace but he doesn't let go of Draco's hand.

Draco looks over his shoulder and meets Harry's gaze with sparkling eyes. "Anywhere we want."

Send me a prompt! See the guidelines here.

[russellsppttemplates]

Could we please have dad mick feel like I haven’t seen him for ages, you can pick but oh I love dad mick 🥹

"Mama", Aurora whispered loudly as she pushed open your and Mick's dedroom door and giggled as she noticed you both still sleeping, letting her siblings walk inside before she did the same. Harriet smiled cheekily and walked towards the bed first, seeing you twitch your nose and snuggled into the mattress. Suddenly, something jumped on the bed and the room filled with little giggles as you opened your eyes slowly and smiled at the three kids.

"Mama, papa", Sebastian squealed excitedly, "the Easter bunny came. He left lots and lots of eggs!", he announced.

"Happy Easter, my loves", you said, rolling onto your back and shaking your husband awake, Mick groaning as he slowly woke up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Aurora was the last to join everyone on the bed, finding a spot between you and Mick at your knee level.

"Papa and Mama also have a present for you", Mick said as he sat up straighter, the kids' eyes wideninh as they watched their father lean over the bed and pull a bag out.

"Happy Easter, little Schumachers", Mick said, placing it on the bed so they could open it together.

"Look, it's bunny ears!", Harriet shrieked as she out them on her head, prompting Sebastian and Aurora to do the same.

"Oh, they have their fluffy tails, too!", Sebastian said as he got up, putting the little clip on white fluff on his pyjamas pants, "I'm a little bunny!", he smiled.

After helping the girls do the same, the three of them hopped around the room, pretending to be bunnies, "Oh, we should get Angie and Hazel!", Aurora suggested, "can I get them, mama, please?", she pouted.

"Sure, just be careful on the stairs, darling", you said, sitting up straighter and cuddling up to Mick, "they look so funny, I'm not sure what's best: Harriet's ears or Seb's white fluffy tail on his butt", you mumbled into his chest.

"Look, mama! I gave Hazel my tail!", Aurora said as both dogs walked inside the bedroom, Angie seemingly running away from the kids and shielding herself in your protection while Hazel walked slowly, her own tail wagging with the new accessory.

"Are you afraid they'll get to you too, Angie? Mama can protect you, don't worry. Papa got those, by the way", you snitched Mick as the Australian Shepherd looked at him sideways.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[vampiretendencies]

request; knowing the medicines they'd usually take and having no problem going to get them when needed with jj

pairing; jj x fem!reader

warnings; fluff, small mentions of anemia, reader has it for the sake of this blurb

authors note; okay i didn’t want to do any serious mental disorders, and then i thought maybe i should do a cold but a cold isn’t always usual, like the prompt says, so now i’m deciding to stick with anemia cause i have it so this is a bit self indulgent, and taking an iron pill has to be everyday so here we are, i am also taking requests for blurbs, imagines, one shots etc. but i have been doing blurbs because of writers block, so you can use the list below or send your own idea.

other ways to say i love you prompt list

There were plenty of things that you didn’t have to ask JJ to do, and he’d do it anyway.

Not for extra ‘brownie points’.

But for the sake of hearing your saccharine voice, lull him around and about. To see the corners of your mouth, pull into an effortlessly consummate smile.

It was the smallest gestures, the most miniscule anthems of love; not afraid to consistently pronouce that you were his.

Because once JJ fell, he fell hard. You couldn't do any wrong in his eyes and he had a serious problem telling you 'no'.

If JJ didn't have the money for something he previously saw you looking at in a store, he found a way but that never meant he didn't contemplate robbing a bank.

Always proceeding to go the extra mile just for his girl.

Smitten; to say the least, having the giddiness of a small child in your presence.

Or as the Pogues would say he was ultimately, pussy-whipped.

Which is why he knows you; knowns every crevasse of your hand, every sweet-spot, every line that would form on your face when you grinned.

Everything.

Therefore, logging your daily medicine intake in his mind was something of simplicity to him. You appreciated his remembrance, but it never got old, like it was the first time.

"Medicine time, baby."

He'd have a little glass of water, in his much bigger hand, iron pill in the other. Your anemia wasn't so extreme that you needed a blood transfusion or anything of the sort, but only to pop an iron pill every day to regulate your red blood cell count. The task did seem hard when you couldn't remember to, which is always where JJ comes in.

Sat to the kitchen island of your shared apartment, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, JJ makes and 'ah' sound- you open your mouth, tongue rolling forward, whilst JJ placed the green pill against the pink muscle.

He must admit though, the sensation of feeling your wet, tongue against his finger always drove him senile. The contact so sickeningly intimate and affectionate at the same time.

"Thank you for always taking care of me, J."

He offers a toothy grin, removing the glass from his fingertips; to gulp down the waxy taste of the medicine.

"Don't thank me for that, baby ... M' always gonna' take care of my girl."

[oddballwriter]

Stacy's Mom

Summary: Marc is a single father to a lovely daughter, who has a friend who also has a single parent. He's never actually met Stacy's mom before, but when he finally does, he's taken aback by her.  

Warnings: Single!Dad!Marc and Single!Mom!reader. It's just Marc here, no mention of the system. 

Author’s Snip: I listened to Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne and decided to make this.

Notes: If you guys want I can do a version of this for Steven and Jake. Just give me a prompt to do with them first. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1056

  Rayna had this friend, Stacy. 

  She was a nice girl, don't get it wrong. Marc was glad that his daughter had some friends considering middle school was a tough time for making new friends with the change in schools. And also because as a single, working, dad it gave her something to do. But he would be lying if he said that having two twelve-year-old girls running around his house wasn't a bit of a handful. But Stacy was still a nice guest to have over. 

  He didn't really know much about her home life other than what she'd mentioned on a few occasions. The fact that she was raised by just her mom, you, and that you were a single working woman, often being away on business trips. And that was pretty much it. 

  The only communication Marc ever had with you was a few texts and Stacy herself sending a message on your behalf, like your permission for Stacy to sleep over at him and Rayna's home or for Rayna to spend that night at yours. There was also the fact that your houses were, apparently two blocks down from each other, so Stacy would just walk to and fro.

  It wasn't until one sleep-over that you two would make contact for the first time. 

  Stacy was on the track team at school and had hurt her ankle during practice, making her have to wear a boot brace till it healed. She could still walk on her own, but it wasn't the best idea for her to walk her way from her house to Marc and Rayna's so you drove her there this time before getting ready to head off to another business trip. 

  When Rayna opened the door she greeted Stacy enthusiastically and gave you a nice "Hello to you too, Ms. L/N.". Marc came to the door to originally help with Stacy's bags but he almost froze upon seeing you for the first time. 

  Marc hated that his immediate thoughts were that you had it going on, with your tight-fitted but still professional-looking outfit. You were gorgeous. 

  He managed to get himself back into reality though. Shaking off his awestruck expression and extended his hand for a handshake. "Mr. Spector. I'm Rayna's father." he said. You give him a greeting smile, "Ms. L/N, Stacy's mom." you say shaking Marc's hand. "But you can just call me Y/N." you request. "Then you can call me Marc then." Marc suggested. 

  "I just wanted to thank you for letting Stacy stay over so often. I don't like it when she stays home alone for such a long time when I'm gone." you tell Marc as the girls move to another part of the house. "It's no problem. She's a nice girl and they usually make their own fun without causing too much of a ruckus." Marc assures. "I just feel a bit bad because Stacy said that you're also a single parent and work at the same time." you claim. "Like I said. It's no problem. I'm usually sat at a desk here at home anyways, so I can keep a good eye on them." Marc reassures. 

  Oh god, you’re hot, a businesswoman, and you're nice?

  “Well, thank you so much either way.” you smile. You looked over his shoulder and called out “Bye, hunny. Behave for Mr. Spector and lay off that foot, okay? I’ll see you in a couple of days.”. Stacy turns and says “Wait, Mom! Don’t forget to hire someone to mow the grass.”. A look of revelation comes over your face before you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Now you remind me.” you mutter to yourself. “What’s the hold-up?” Marc asks. 

  “It’s nothing really,” you tell Marc, “It’s just that I’m too busy to mow the lawn and backyard. And Stacy both has her ankle injury and has never worked a lawnmower in her life so we usually have someone else do it.” you explain. “I can do it for you if you’d like.” Marc offers, without really thinking. “Oh, no, Marc. You don’t have to. You’re already doing so much for me.” you fret. “No, no. Really. If you two aren’t able to do it then I’ll gladly do it for you. I’ll bring my own mower, don’t worry.” Marc chuckles, “Matter of fact. Anytime you need your lawn mowed or anything like that, just call me. Alright?” he smiles, doubling up his offer. “Oh alright.” you give in, “But I will find a way to repay you. Mark my words.” you promise as you leave, saying goodbye to Marc and Rayna on the way out.

  The days passed and Marc kept to his word. He drove Stacy home with Rayna tagging along and their lawnmower settled in the back of his truck. Rayna and Stacy continued on like the sleepover wasn’t over and watched things on TV while he worked in the yards still they were all done. When he went back inside to tell Rayna that it was time to head back home, you stopped him for a moment, holding out a tin tray full of freshly baked cookies. He looked up at you with soft eyes, “Ms. L/N. You didn’t have to make me anything. It was no-” Marc tries to say before you cut him off, “I insist, Marc. I have to give you something as a thank you for all that you’ve done for me and Stacy.” you say, placing the tray into his hands. 

  “Tell you what.” Marc says, “Why don’t you and I eat somewhere sometime? To get to know each other better.” he offers, feeling a bit dumb because you’re standing in a nice apron with sweet-smelling perfume and he’s standing there with his forehead glazed with sweat and reeking of cut grass. You blink a shocked expression at him for a moment before a soft blush reaches your face. “You don’t mean that.” you smile timidly. “No. I mean, it would be nice. We could get to know each other better and feel more comfortable with our kids hanging out at each other’s houses.” Marc explained, trying not to sound like some sleazy dad, “Just a quick little lunch. Or Brunch. Or drink. Whichever you like better.” he says. 

  “Lunch would be nice.” you smile. 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I please get a Hc for Asra about an Mc that acts a lot differently after being brought back? Like maybe they were always slightly on edge all the time or were a lot harder on themselves for even little mistakes they'd make. Being more like Muriel, in the sense they never wanted to talk about their past. So when they forgot their past they were able to let go of that feeling of deep-rooted regret completely. Becoming generally a lot more relaxed and almost happier. Maybe they get their memory back of what they did but because of everything between losing their memory and getting back their able to move on. Fully forgive themselves.

The Arcana HCs: When MC's memory loss changes them

~ this was such an interesting prompt to work with, anon, thank you for sending it! - brainrot ~

Julian

He's a little conflicted, to be honest

He remembers what kind of person you used to be, back when you apprenticed at his clinic during the outbreak of the plague, and he's genuinely happy that you get to have a personal fresh start

But he also knows, from his own experience, how important it is to find closure with your past self even when that's something you can't remember properly

He also hates saying anything remotely negative (unless it's about himself - you two are working on that) so he's not going to bring it up unless you do first

If you do bring it up, he'll happily talk about it with you for as many hours as you have the energy for. He's not afraid of emotionally intense conversations, and he has personal experience to draw on

He will always, always make it clear that he accepts you no matter what and that he's with you for whatever conclusions you come to

If the time comes that your memories return and you start to process them, he is two steps ahead of you on his own journey and so ready to be your shoulder to lean on

Besides, watching you show emotional growth and self-forgiveness is super hot

Asra

Regardless of their opinions on your change, bringing up your past with you is so triggering for them that their default is to avoid it

That's not to say that he refuses to talk about how things used to be, he knows you can handle it now, but after three years of watching you fall into pain and losing you each time he's cautious

They will answer all of your questions honestly though. They don't care to keep secrets from you

And when it comes down to it, he's only as invested in your change as you are. It makes him happy to see you happy!

If that means holding onto the memories of who you used to be on your behalf, they'll do it willingly. They are far more concerned with helping you be master of your own destiny than anything else

He does panic briefly when your memories start to return

There's a weird back and forth for them between relief at seeing you become more whole and anxiety around all the ways that that could hurt you or go wrong

But he will be there for you every step of the way with cuddles and laughs and unconditional love

Nadia

She does her best to hide it, but between who she's heard of you being and who you are now she likes the new you better

Her biggest struggle in the last few years was overcoming her own uncharacteristic insecurity, and it was your confidence that helped her do that. Thinking of you another way doesn't sit so easily with her

That's not to say that she thinks any less of someone who is insecure, or that she thinks past you was somehow inferior

She just likes to leave the past in the past when a fresh start is available

That said, she's also invested in learning as much about you as you're willing to share, so if you ever want to talk about old stories she will give you her full attention and interest

If the times comes that your memories do begin to return, she'll be as gentle and empowering with you as she can

She wants you to become who you want to become, not whoever you think anybody else wants you to be. She will fiercely protect and affirm your own preferences and decisions

She is so proud of who you are and how you're growing and she's so excited to see who you become

Muriel

Honestly, if he could have the same thing happen to him, he wouldn't complain. He doesn't think so as strongly now as he did when he first saw your changed state, but it's still enticing

He likes seeing how free you've become

More than that, he likes sharing this new life with you. His past has always weighed so heavily on him that having someone like you around is a chance to think about the future instead

He's happy to listen if you want to talk about it, but he's not going to bring it up if you don't

Once you do start remembering your past again, it ends up being a lot easier for both of you than he expected

Contrary to trapping you, your memories seem to only make you more whole. Processing them isn't easy for you, but you're doing it and you're growing from and incorporating it and you're moving on

Watching you do this is reassuring him that he's on the right path as well, that it's possible to live with his memories in a way that doesn't ignore them or trap him in them or weigh him down

You two are going to do so much healing and growing together

Portia

She has a harder time accepting how things are for you

Mostly because she doesn't have the full picture. She didn't know you before the plague, so your past is just as hazy and mysterious to her as it is to you

Except that she has no idea what it's like to be missing memories. She carries her memories everywhere she goes, and the thought of you not being able to know all of who you are is really sad for her

She brings it up quite often, whether she's asking you for your theories or pumping Asra for stories about a younger you, and hearing about who you used to be makes her want to meet them

Eventually she'll come to terms with letting you allow yourself to let go of your past, even if it gives her a strange sense of defeat

She gets really excited for you when your memories begin to return and you start to talk about it

She does have these moments, when you remember something sad or painful, when she realizes that forgetting may have been a kinder thing for you

Ultimately, whoever you want to become and however you want to heal, she will support you with all her heart

Lucio

Frankly, there isn't a lot of time or space in your relationship to think much about your past

He didn't know you before the plague, and who he was before the plague is not something he's particularly interested in revisiting, and you're both quite busy building a new life from a clean slate

Who you are now is all he's known, and he likes you very much

When your memories do come back and you start to process them, it might trigger him a little bit

You're his anchor, his source of comfort and strength to confront his own past mistakes and push towards being a better person

So when the old habits you're remembering are all of you being hard on yourself for understandable, minor slip-ups, he's suddenly wondering if you're this hard on him in your own mind too

How does he know that you've really forgiven him when you struggle to forgive yourself?

Hearing his point of view helps you give yourself grace in your own process, and for him, watching you grow is truly inspiring

He wants to be better like you, and here you are living out a whole tutorial!

[lighthouseshepard]

ahhh been too afraid to pm you but hi from a silent mutual!!

writing prompt: john and yorick chat while arthur sleeps :))

HI HELLO!! im also always too afraid to pm everyone! thank you so much for sending this in and so sorry it took me a while! been a very busy few days (:

"Is he fully asleep, my king?"

John groans in annoyance among the relative darkness he'd been sulking within. Ever since Arthur's eyes shut once he fell into an exhausted, heavy slumber nearly thirty minutes prior, he'd been reluctant to try and exercise what little muscle control he possessed to squint them open again. Manipulating those muscles usually woke him regardless of how careful he was, leaving him with a splitting headache neither of them could explain. And at the moment, John couldn't bring himself to disturb the hard won sleep, as fitful as it was.

Yes, he's asleep, he hisses impatiently. Yorick's voice came from somewhere to their left, still attached by the chain threaded around their waist. Arthur's right arm twitches, fingers scrabbling for some imaginary thing, before falling still.

"Excellent," says the skull. "Our master requires much rest after that entire ordeal."

Our master? John snorts. The subtle stirrings of a cool night's breeze brush against the skin of his left hand, welcome after the wet, stale air of the cave. He's your master, not mine. 

"He is master to both of us!" Yorick exclaims, far too loudly. "Just as you are a king to him and myself. An inseparable pair, the dies irae, intertwined inexorably, dominion over one another and all else."

Jesus fucking Christ, John mutters, wishing he could wince. What does that even mean?

“Exactly as I said. Would you like me to repeat it?”

No, no. Can you quiet down? You're going to wake him.

“Certainly, my king.” His reply drops to a tone only slightly less loud than before. 

 And stop calling me that, he adds irritably. I'm not a king.

"You were once a king," Yorick states matter of fact, jaw clacking solidly as he speaks, a peculiarly troubling imitation of human life. "I do not see the issue with proclaiming this."

Once, he emphasizes. I'm not... I'm not that being any longer. I don't claim to be any kind of ruler anymore.

"Fair enough! What shall I call you if not a ruler, then?" 

John, he grinds out, the last droplet of water among the barren desert of his patience threatening to dissolve. John is fine.

"Alright," Yorick says, sounding pleased. "King John, how may I serve you?"

John heaves a haggard sigh. Unbelievable, he groans, and attempts to turn his attention away for a brief, blissful second to collect what surely remained of his sanity.

The thing that called itself vanguard spoke incessantly. Within the caves, climbing out into rain-damp earth and sky, walking to find shelter for nightfall in the hopes of catching at least a few hours sleep - it had not stopped talking the entire way. John had half a mind to untangle Yorick from Arthur's belt when he wasn't paying attention and throw him as far as his eyes could see. He'd never liked the thought of the vanguard anyway, had never wanted Arthur to take the head, keep the tooth. Something about a creature which existed simultaneously in the Dreamlands, the Dark World and their own reality never sat well with him. 

A hypocritical perspective, possibly, considering. Yet that similarity alone made him nervous, straddling a razor's cautious edge. He knew what he was capable of. Yorick remained a mystery.

They'd found an oak tree, its canopy stretching out far enough to provide cover from the last stray rain clouds rolling by, so long as Arthur kept curled at its trunk. He had fallen under almost immediately. One or two words exchanged between him and that damned skull, and he was out, John's name half formed on his lips in what sounded like the start of a question. It would likely be forgotten upon waking. Already Yorick was taking time meant for him.

Regardless, John knew him to be valuable, an asset they couldn't afford to get rid of. Certainly not now, with nothing to their names except the clothes Arthur wore and the bag he carried, no money, no food. If Yorick could be a wealth of information like he claimed, they'd have to put up with him a while longer. 

And then John could toss him into a lake.

In the stretch of thankful silence, Yorick apparently finally listening to his demands, he reaches over and inspects what remained of the wound. Dried blood coated Arthur's wrinkled shirt close to his heart, stiffening the fabric. Laying his palm flat and hesitantly across his chest, John takes solace in the flighty pulse tangibly felt there. Not too long ago there was none at all.

Arthur murmurs something wordless under his touch. John retracts his hand quickly, mildly guilty at having potentially disturbed him.

“You dislike when he sleeps,” Yorick says. Despite his position by Arthur's hip, rolled sideways where he'd come to rest as they laid down on dry grass, his voice still seemed to come from somewhere else around them. 

John waits a second for more to follow. Nothing comes - it's a statement, not an inquiry.

I don't dislike him sleeping, he huffs. He has to rest, obviously.

“Yet it troubles you regardless? The absence of him.”

I don't, John sputters out, struggling to keep his voice level. I'm not… lonely if that's what you're suggesting. Will you just shut up already? We're both going to wake him up at this rate.

“Our master is blind to the world in multiple senses of the word,” says Yorick. “Deep within a dream. He will not wake for some time.”

How do you know he's dreaming? he asks, perplexed. You can't… see into his mind, or-

“I know a great many things.” Another beat of silence, decorated by the cricket song in the surrounding brush shielding them from view. Again John waits for an explanation, growling agitatedly when none is forthcoming.

Such as? he prompts. What is he dreaming about? 

“I do not know the specifics,” clacks Yorick. “Yet I'm aware of the turmoil of his thoughts. There is a string of piano keys tied like wire around his ankles, a bathtub overflowing, a yellow sun-”

Okay, I get the specifics! John mutters. So a nightmare, clearly.

“Precisely! Excellent conclusion, King John.”

He was starting to immediately regret accidentally adding John to that title. Is there a way we can help him, then?

As if on cue, subconsciously aware he was being discussed, Arthur lets out a low, pained breath of air. Instinctively John’s hand jolts to attention, fingers delicately skimming the wound like he would find answers or assistance there. His legs were twitching, again his arm reaching and then recoiling from something John couldn’t see or understand. 

Nightmares were the only times he felt useful, whenever Arthur slept. Lingering in the corners of his mind, stuck between drifting into his own thoughts and keeping an active listen for anything that might hurt them while he was out - it wore him down in ways be couldn't explain. Yorick was right, even though John would rather revisit the Dark World than admit it. He did hate when Arthur had to sleep for the emptiness it left him with. Being able to wake him from a bad dream as soon as he caught the signs left him aware of a strange, disjointed sense of selfish pleasure. Even if it came at the risk of Arthur’s unhappiness, helping him out of a nightmare was one thing he could do consistently right.

“He will not wake until the nightmare is complete,” Yorick says nonchalantly. “He is too deep.”

Which will take how long?

“I know a great many things,” he says for the second time. “Yet this, I do not.”

Another whimper, softer than the last. John taps the side of his head, tugs at his shirt collar, goes so far as to flick his nose multiple times in a row, as hard as he could manage. Nothing caused him to stir. He could slap him, sure, but in this state he might break apart altogether.

Great. John heaves a sigh. So we just have to listen to this, then? Until he’s, what, done dreaming?

“That is correct. We could always pass the time discussing, my King.”

Discussing what? He snorts. The maggots we just crawled through? No thanks.

“Or,” Yorick adds, “you could always return your hand to his chest.”

What? 

“Your hand,” he repeats, jaw clicking knowingly. “It is the one thing which calms the dreams. I’ve witnessed it many times before.”

You didn’t even have eyes, then, John says sardonically. What could you possibly have witnessed?

“I have no physical eyes now, but I can see you and the master. I was aware then, and in a way, I am aware now.”

In the shrouding blackness of Arthur’s slumber, John imagines the two points of white light where the prince’s eyes once rested staring sideways up at them, awash in tendrils of green smoke. Was this how Arthur felt all the time, kept in the dark, left to wonder how everyone was looking at him? 

Carefully, he puts his hand back in the center of Arthur’s chest. Fingers splay out, one wooden pinky, the rest a thin collection of bruises and scars and broken, chipped nails. That fidgety pulse returns, a bird’s caught wing under his palm. The rhythm remains so for nearly a minute, stuttering and jumping to some melody John couldn’t follow along, and he’s about ready to give it up for nonsensical, stupid advice before he hears Arthur sigh.

It’s not the same troubled exhale as before. This one comes calmer, more even-keeled. As he focuses on his heartbeat he notices it begins to slow, calming bit by bit into a steady, softer pattern. Arthur’s movements drift to a halt. He shifts among the roots, mumbling something too quiet to comprehend, and eventually falls silent.

“He sleeps much like the dead in appearance,” Yorick states thoughtfully. “I believe the dream has come to a close, for now.”

Good, remarks John, at a loss for anything else to say. He wasn’t going to tell Yorick thank you; but it was tempting. The gentle rise and fall of Arthur’s breathing is a placid current, subtler than the new rain beginning to break through the clouds overhead in the night. He could plainly picture him, sprawled out uncomfortably, breeze touseling sweat damp hair, a downward curve in a mouth which always seemed to be frowning lately. Protected just enough beneath the oak, protected enough beneath John’s palm.

Well, at least one of us is content.

“I am much content, King John.”

That makes a total of two. Can you please shut the hell up now? 

“If that is what you wish," the skull says amicably. "Then I will."

It is, John bites. Just thirty minutes of fucking silence. Please.

Yorick says nothing. Relief settles over him as the break distends. Minutes pass until he finally accepts his desire had been properly observed. Crickets sing around them once more.

Sleep well, he whispers, hand firmly over heart. Perhaps we can wait a little longer to get rid of him.