#but I had plans for these prompts

[phantom-0-writer]

prompt 02: tim’s birthday present

Tim sat in his empty house at the empty dining table. The table was actually quite large; it had enough seats to sit at least 15 people. But there was just Tim there. 

His parents had promised and sworn up and down that they would come back in time for his birthday. He had everything planned out. He picked out the birthday cake, put on the candles, decorated, ordered his parents' favorite foods, his parents' favorite movie for movie night, popcorn the likes. But that morning, just when Tim was double checking to make sure everything was ready for the most perfect birthday ever, his parents had called to tell him that something really important had come up, and they wouldn’t be able to make it. Tim figured it was better than last year, at least they called this time. 

Tim stared down at the cake, the candles lit. He had heard online that people would make wishes on their birthday cake and blow it out. Tim thought that was a weird thing to do, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

What should he wish for? It would have to be something special that he doesn’t already have. Tim thought for a long moment, the candles bleeding into the frosting of the cake. 

A brother. 

Tim closed his eyes and put his hands together like he’s seen the other children to do in the cartoons. And Tim wished for a big brother. When he finally wished hard enough (whatever that meant) he opened his eyes and blew out what was left of the candles. 

Tim waited. What exactly was he supposed to do now? In the cartoons, everyone would celebrate and cheer and the birthday boy would open his presents. There wasn’t anyone to cheer for Tim, or any presents for him to open. 

Suddenly the house shook, and the loud sound of a crash sound came from the backyard. Quickly, Tim did the sensible thing and go check out what the noise was. That's what the characters always did in horror movies. 

In Tim’s backyard, there was what looked like a weird space ship that had crashed into his backyard. There wasn’t any fire or anything, but the spaceship looked pretty wrecked. Getting closer, Tim could vaguely make out that someone was inside the spaceship. Looking around, he saw what looked like maybe the handle. Tim couldn’t really tell. 

When Tim put his hand on it and tried to open it, something poked out mechanically and pricked his finger. He flinched back instinctively, caressing his finger tip.

“Recognized: Danny Fenton. System Override.” A robotic lady spoke. Who is Danny Fenton? As if to answer him, the space ship opened its hatch, and inside was an unconscious black haired teenager. “System Malfunctioning. Please Assis-” The robotic voice spoke again, before getting cut off as if the power had died. 

Suddenly, Tim remembered his wish. A big brother. 

This was Danny Fenton, and he was supposed to be Tim’s big brother

----

When Danny woke up, he found himself in a very soft plush something. Something that definitely wasn’t the Spector Speeder. Alarmed, he sat up quickly to find that he didn’t recognize where he was at all. He also didn’t recognize the weird kid that was staging at him from two feet away. 

“Hi, I’m Tim. Timothy Drake.” The boy introduced himself almost business like. 

“Uh, hi Tim.” Danny responded awkwardly. “You got any idea where I am?” Danny sat up properly, moving the blanket (?) off of him and turned to face the weird and kinda creepy kid. 

“You’re in Drake Manor. Which is where I live.” He answered again. 

“Ok…ay” Danny nodded thoughtfully. “Any idea how I got here?” Truthfully, Danny hadn’t really been expecting an answer, but he still got one. 

“Because I made a birthday wish to have a big brother.” He answered in the same way he had answered the other question, very matter-of-factly. 

“Ok- Wait. What?” Danny asked, doing a double take at Tim. 

“You’re supposed to be my big brother, right?” Tim was starting to look a little hesitant, and as weirded out as Danny felt he couldn’t help but feel bad about the whole situation. 

“Where are your parents, Tim?” 

“There not home, because they had really important things to do for work.” 

Danny nodded. “Do you know when they’ll be back?” 

Tim shook his head. “They were supposed to come back today, because it’s my birthday. But they said they couldn’t make it.” 

Well, shit. Didn’t that sound awfully like Danny’s birthdays before he had given up on his parents showing up. At least he had Jazz. This kid looked like he was alone. 

Not liking the silence, Tim started fidgeting again. “So, are you gonna be my brother, then?” 

And what was Danny supposed to say, No? Besides, if he was really causing problems being in this random universe, then Clockwork would figure it out. 

Bonus: 

Danny sat at Tim’s dinner table, the kid looking at him radiating in excitement, each with a plate of stupid expensive pasta in front of them. “You said your name was Tim, right?” Danny started thoughtfully. Tim nodded, drinking up everything Danny said. “Well, first course of action as you, big brother. I need to give you a nickname.” 

Tim’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. “Like what?”

Danny tapped his chin exaggeratedly, “Hm… Tim, Tim.” Turing the name around while he absentmindedly twirled his fork between his fingers, Danny wondered what he should come up with. Suddenly, in a misplaced strength, Danny’s fork flew out of his hand. 

Before Danny could even say anything, “I’ll get you a new one!” Tim offered quickly. Getting up from his chair, his foot got tangled behind the leg of the chair and Tim fell quietly on the floor with an oof. 

Danny laughed at him. “You okay, Timbers?” He asked, getting up to check on the boy. 

“Yeah, I like Timbers.” Tim said, a bright smile on his face despite the blossoming bruise on his arm.

------------

table of contents

[spectral-snippets-and-drabbles]

The Babel Incident

Phantom doesn't make talk to anyone when he joins the Leauge. They may try to make small talk and learn more about their new teammate, even going as far to to invite him to the occasional gathering or socialize, but the newest member simply shows up when there is mandatory meetings, helps out on the field, and leaves as quickly as he arrived.

Keeping everyone at arms length, no matter how they much they try. They can clearly see he's lonely, but he insists they leave him be.

Clark doesn't miss (or like) the way Bruce tries to get more useful information on the newbie in roundabout like asking other Leauge members for anything. It wasn't until the usually straight faced Phantom got angry at Bruce to vanish to get away from their leader. It irked the Dark Knight to not have any useful information, even when Martian ManHunter told him no to reading his mind, but Bruce will keep trying to get something out of Phantom.

Little do they know that the reason why Phantom doesn't speak or socialize with anyone has to do with the fact that Batman uses mere conversations to formulate his contingency plans to put down his colleagues, something they don't know about yet. The Last Universe he visited had its Batman getting his plans stolen by a villian and had gotten the entirety of the Leauge killed.

[lar-mx]

writing prompt #5

The room fell silent, Steph wasn't expecting the pain filled look they were giving her. The question repeated itself in her head a couple of times as her mind searched for a way to save the situation.

"I see you don't have an answer." The silence was still palpable in the room as well as the cold she felt when she saw those beautiful blue eyes lose their shine. "I should have known it was too good to be true, tell bru… Mr. Wayne that if he wanted to know about the projects so much, he could come ask for them himself instead of using a sugar trap." Steph tried to say something before an alert went off on Danny's phone, at which point she saw the panic that took over his eyes, before he ran to an adjacent hallway that led to a room, in which she was not. I had had the opportunity to enter. As she followed him she could see how Danny took a series of vials and several injections. She hesitated a moment before walking through the half-open door. At that moment she saw how he proceeded to apply several of the injections to a girl of about 5 or 6 years old. Steph knew just by seeing her that she was Danny's daughter. and some of the things they discovered while investigating the Nightingale medical company made a lot of sense.

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *7*

Robin was staring at the screen of the Bat-Computer, while his mind was trapped in the past.

Damian could still clearly remember growing up in the League. And he remembers that he never questioned Grandfather or Mother, except once.

He had been seven, almost eight, when he was training his stealth. And what would be better practice then to follow his mother around till she spots him.

But this day his mother seemed distracted, something that never happened. He followed her to Grandfathers study and listened.

"The boy is nothing but a hindrance to Damian. He fails to kill and has sympathy that's unbecoming for an al Ghul. If Danyal won't complete his next mission, you will dispose of him", Grandfather sounded annoyed, as if he didn't just spoke about killing his twin, about how their mother would have to kill her own flesh and blood.

He didn't wait for his mothers response, knowing that she wouldn't oppose the demon head. As fast as he could he searched for his other half, they needed an plan.

On their next mission Danyal died. It was tragic, but he had sacrificed himself to save the heir of the al Ghuls. At least that is what Damian reported to the League.

Danyal was on the run and for the next 19 month he was forbidden to leave any clues about his whereabouts for Damian.

At some point he would be able to find him again.

He had searched for Danyal, ever since he stared to life with father. But the little voice in the back of his head kept whispering about how Danyal probably died because of his injuries years ago and that father would see it as his fault that he lost another son.

But know he found one of his clues. An online post from someone with the username 'ghostboi', about a constellation and the story that he himself spun around it. A story only the two of them knew. Well... and a few hundred strangers now, but he would have to talk later with Danyal about that.

Now it was time to tell father about yet another son that mother kept secret from him, oh joy.

.

.

.

The talk had been going as good as anyone could expect, which meant that he and father now sat in a private jet, only two hours after they found out about Danyals whereabouts and three hours since Bruce Wayne knows about his second blood son.

They where going as Civilians, since it would probably go smoother. And because the Brucie Wayne persona seemed to gift his father the ability to talk a little bit easier about emotions. Except for right now, because he was angry at Damian for keeping his twin a secret. Still, Damian couldn't see how he could have handled this better and also stayed silent.

Quietly he goes over the things he found out about his brother.

He now goes by the name Daniel James Fenton

He lives in Amity Park, Illinois

He was adopted at the age of nine by the Fentons

He goes to the local high school

He has an older sister, Jasmine Fenton, who is in college for psychology

His parents are ecto-scientist

He has two friend with the names of Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson

It wasn't a lot, but he didn't have much time and also not the patience to wait any longer. It had been almost nine years since he last seen his other half and even if he was nervous, he just couldn't bear to wait any longer.

After they landed in an airport in the city nearest to Amity Park, the two immediately got into the back of a car and their journey continues.

For a long time it was silent in the car, till Damian couldn't bear his father's brooding anymore.

"I didn't know if he had survived and I deemed it better for everyone involved if I'm the only one with this particular uncertainty and possible grief", even if his own voice was levelled and his father just responded with a grunt, the air in the car seemed now easier to breathe.

~

Yes, Bruce had been livid and heartbroken when Damian had told him about his youngest, but he could understand to some degree where the boy was coming from. And if the situation wouldn't be so heartbreaking, then he could be able to call it sweet of his son. He just didn't want him to hurt, but even so... now it was to late to think about the what if's, in a few minutes he would have Daniel in his sight.

They stopped in front of a house that was a clear violation of every OSHA law he could think of. But the big "FENTON WORK' sign, told him that they were right.

Bruce put on a light smile, before he knocked on the door, Damian on his left side. From inside he heard a little bit of shuffling and a carbon copy of Damian opened the door. Everything except for the eyes were the same.

But before Bruce could say anything, the twins were already in each other's arms. He could hear quiet sniffling.

"You found me, your safe", the words came like a mantra out of Daniels mouth.

"Ahbak, Danyal", was the whispered answer from Damian.

And Bruce felt like an intruder in this moment. He had never seen his son so openly affectionate and it was like a weight had lifted of Damians shoulders.

It took a few minutes till the two brothers let go of each other. Except for their hands, that stayed clasps with each other.

"Hello Daniel, I'm Bruce Wayne. I'm yours and Damians father", he introduced himself with a smile, even though the boy seemed to shrink a little bit into himself.

"Please call me Danny Mr. Wayne. Just Fruitloops call me Daniel", his son gave him a crooked smile and Bruce nodded.

"Of course, but call me Bruce", he answered easygoing.

"Is there a place where we can talk Danyal?", Damian got the attention of his twin with a little tuck on his hand.

"You can come inside. Mom and Dad are out of town to get a few supplies for a new project", his answer was sheepish, as he lead them inside.

It seemed like he had adjusted well to a civilian life. How he wished he could have seen his growth.

They sit down in the living room and start to talk a bit about Danny's life with the Fentons. It's apparent for both him and Damian, that Danny is hiding something from them, but they don't press. Maybe he'll tells Damian, when they have a moment alone.

"Should I help you to pack your possessions now? I'm sure the Fentons won't need to long to come back, so that you can say goodbye", as Damian was speaking, he stood up and looked at a bewildered Danny. But Bruce wasn't really better. As much as he would love to bring Danny home with them, they couldn't just rip him out of his life. And Danny seems to see it just like him.

"Dami... I'm not leaving. I love my parents and my friends, I can't just go and leave them", Danny also stood up and clasped his hands on Damians shoulders.

"Tt... so you choose them over me?", his voice was barely over a whisper.

"No! I-... it's just... give me time? I'm almost done with high school and I want to go Gotham U, so... just wait a bit? Please?", his tone was pleading, as he searched his brothers eyes, whom just answered with a defeated sight.

"Danny is right Damian. We can't just uproot him like that. As much as I want us all together, we found him now, the rest can wait", Damian deflated a little more at his words. And so Bruce couldn't just let the opportunity pass to comfort his children for once.

He closed the small distance between them and hugged both of the boys lightly to himself.

"You know that I always wanted to raise you myself and now that I see you both like that, I wish for it even more", he sighted with a woeful smile, while Damian grumbled about the proximity. But Danny's little smile shifted to a horrified look.

"Your wish is my command~", the feminine voice came out of thin air, but Bruce had no time to think about it. Because just a second later, there were two little Babies in his arms. Two little, screaming Babies.

Bruce never regretted it so much in his life, that he hadn't brought Alfred along.

[asamiontop]

Supercorptober - Wild or…

Captain Underpants (also on Ao3)

Lena: Text me when you get this.

Kara squints at the message. If she narrows her eyes to slits, the photonic assault hurts her eyeballs less. The text is from Lena, so she answers right away. Doesn’t matter that it’s far past late at night and still hours away from early morning.

Kara: hey got your message. what’s up?

She thinks, mistakenly, that Lena will be asleep. She hopes, misguidedly, that that will afford her a few precious hours of rest herself. Her phone chimes and shatters that fantasy in its infancy.

Lena: Are you home?

That’s concerning. Even through the swampiness of fading inebriation and a blossoming hangover, Kara’s synapses spark to life at the idea that Lena may be in trouble.

Kara: I’m home. everything okay?

The response comes back so fast that Kara suspects Lena started typing before she’d even answered.

Lena: I’m coming over.

Kara glances blearily at her alarm clock. 2:47am. Something is definitely wrong.

It’s a testament to her body’s exhaustion that, despite the urgency, Kara manages to fall asleep. She jolts awake to the sound of cannonballs exploding in her ears, the echoes rattling around in her skull. Her superhearing is out of whack from the sleep or the alcohol or both and nearby noise is amplified a thousandfold. The resounding knock at her door sounds more like a battering ram than a fist.

“Kara?” Lena’s voice drifts through the apartment and all other noise seems to melt away. The soothing effect is immediate. Kara’s heart slides back down her throat and thumps in relief. She sags into her pillow with a sigh before she remembers the fact that Lena is visiting her at three in the morning.

Kara superspeeds to the entryway. She just barely reminds herself to touch down on the floor before unlocking the deadbolt.

“Lena!” Kara whips her door open. She’s prepared for the whole range of human emotion, perhaps some tears or sobs or panic or any external sign of distress.

Instead Lena greets her with pursed lips (puckered in that distracting way that accentuates the crisp line of her jaw), a tilted head, and brassy raise of her eyebrow. Lena looks as beautiful as ever in the middle of the night, but she certainly does not appear distressed.

She gives Kara an undisguised once-over.

“Hello, Supergirl,” Lena deadpans.

All the oxygen leaves the room. Kara’s anatomy doesn’t require much of it, but she still feels like she’s choking on the lack of air. Her eyes bug out and she momentarily loses all cognitive function as her half-drunk system begins a hard reboot into this new reality where apparently Lena now knows her secret identity. The corner of Lena’s mouth twitches victoriously and somehow that is what kicks Kara back to the land of the living.

Without so much as a warning, she snags Lena by the wrist and yanks her bodily into the apartment. It’s a whole miracle Kara doesn’t slam the door off its hinges as Lena stumbles past the threshold.

“Heh—Supergi—that’s funny—what, uh.” Kara squeaks, sounding totally normal. She whirls around to face her friend with a manic laugh and round, wild eyes, “W-what are you talking about?”

Alex teases Kara relentlessly for her inability to play it cool. As she scratches the back of her own neck only to realize that her hair is down and her glasses are sitting uselessly on her nightstand, then completely misses the wall she intended to lean against and surreptitiously floats to keep her balance, Kara admits that her sister may be onto something.

“Kara, please.” Lena’s eyebrow lifts so high that her forehead wrinkles to accommodate it. “Don’t insult me.”

She opens her mouth to speak but something about the way Lena’s regarding her—resolute and impatient, like she’s just waiting for Kara to catch up so they can move on— makes her snap her jaw shut. Kara abandons her remaining denial with a long exhale.

She can’t help but cling to a thread or plausible deniability though.

“What, um.” Kara clears her throat. “What makes you think that I’m—” her voice cracks on the words, so foreign to her in this context— “that I’m Supergirl?”

Instead of answering, Lena raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Wordlessly, she turns on her heel and heads for Kara’s coffee table. Puzzled, the superhero follows. She just about combusts when Lena flicks on the television.

There, in what must have been filmed by a cell-phone, is Supergirl, twirling through the air suitless and cape-less—wearing nothing save for a matching sports bra and boxers. Kara’s jaw unhinges. She thinks her eyes hurt from how wide they’ve gotten. Supergirl’s hair is blowing freely in the breeze and she looks absolutely delighted as she corkscrews aimlessly above the city, half-naked and carefree.

Kara watches in horror as the video zooms in shamelessly on her butt. (Rao damn The Fruit for stuffing their mobile devices with such capable cameras.) This, mortifyingly, is precisely where Lena chooses to pause the coverage. She clicks the remote, freezing the frame on a screenful of Kara’s backside, and points an elegant but accusatory finger at the blown-up image of Kara’s favorite underwear.

It’s not just any old set of underwear. These ones are indescribably soft and comfortable. They fit just right, snug in all the right places, and they are adorned with a bizarrely adorable pattern of cartoon potstickers, puppies, and chopsticks. Most precious of all, they were a gift from one Lena Luthor last Christmas.

Kara ventures a shifty glance at the CEO, whose eyebrow is still quirked expectantly.

Stupidly, Kara blurts the first thing occurs to her. “That could be anyone.”

A second eyebrow climbs to match the first, shifting Lena’s expression from confident to incredulous in a single movement.

“I—I mean,” the superhero stammers, “it’s a really cute pattern a-and maybe Supergirl got herself the same set you bought me.”

Lena’s eyes close slowly, patiently and she shakes her head. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she mutters, “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Why not?” Kara demands, incomprehensibly committed to her flimsy excuse. “Lots of people like potstickers and puppies!”

“Because they are custom, Kara.” Lena’s head tilts sharply and she skewers the blonde with a pointed look. “I had them custom-made for your gift.”

“Oh.” Kara blinks. “You did?” Her voice ticks up at the end, betraying how oddly touched she feels at the gesture.

Lena appears exhausted but at least somewhat amused now. “Yes. Did you think I happened to fortuitously stumble upon the exact combination of all your favorite things printed on the exact type of undergarment you happen to favor?”

“Um… yes?” Kara shrugs even as the feeble defense crumbles around her. “You can find anything on the internet nowadays.”

Lena sighs. “Kara.” The super’s eyes lock on hers and Lena deliberately drags her green gaze down Kara’s front and slowly back up.

The hint of heat in Lena’s eyes isn’t lost on the Kryptonian, so her face is already two shades pinker than normal when she follows Lena’s stare down her own body.

Her cheeks flame up fully at the visual reminder that she is in fact still wearing the offending undergarments and precious little else.

“Oh.” Kara swallows. She is fully on display for Lena—not only mostly undressed, which induces its own type of stirrings in her belly, but also in clothes unmistakably identical to the superhero frozen on the screen. It’s four coincidences too many.

“Oh,” Lena parrots, nodding once.

Kara’s arms cross instinctively over her bare stomach. She’s ashamed. Not of her body, but of attempting to keep up such a charade without a lick of self-awareness. Mostly, she’s ashamed of hiding the truth from the person with whom she’d most wanted to share it.

Frankly, it’s a monumental relief to be unshackled from her secret. Without the burden of her identity, Kara can truly give Lena her full self, share all the bits and pieces of her that have sat leaden and unspoken on the tip of her tongue for months. Now that Kara has the liberty to be well and truly honest, maybe she can finally entertain the budding intimacy and extra warmth that’s been building around her best friend. She’s never felt quite so enthralled to be the focus of someone’s gaze before and maybe if—

Kara shakes her head, clearing away the cobwebs of hope. There’s a very different reality to be faced right now.

Casting an anxious glance at her feet, Kara flexes her toes and reaches for the grounding sensation of the grain in the hardwood.

Kara swallows thickly, mind alight with all the wrong turns this revelation can take, all the covert ways her secret could have already poisoned their relationship beyond recovery.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, forcing her voice to remain steady even as she collapses into a defeated heap on the couch.

After a few seconds of silence, she gathers all the courage in her rapidly accelerating heart and glances up for Lena’s reaction.

Once again her best friend surprises her. Lena doesn’t seem mad or hurt or resentful. She looks… perplexed, if not a little exasperated.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Lena asks slowly once their eyes lock.

Kara senses her own crinkle bunching between her eyebrows to match Lena’s. “For keeping this from you,” she answers dejectly.

Lena’s eyes widen and Kara rushes to justify herself. The explanation clambers out of her of its own accord, gathering momentum and volume like a snowball rolling downhill.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you so badly, Lena. For months! You’re one of the most important people in my life! I trust you. I–I can’t really explain it, but something about you has always made me feel safe. I just, I felt like I knew you from the moment we met. And that feeling hasn’t faded at all. In fact, it’s grown stronger. I think maybe it’s even become—”

Kara stops short of broaching that subject and launches up off the couch, beginning a proper maniacal pacing across her living room floor.

“You didn’t even need to but you went ahead and proved to me and Supergirl and everyone in the world that you are even more noble and good than I imagined. You are so incredible, Lena. Of everyone I love, you deserve to know this part of me. But—but this superhero thing is so complicated. There are all these rules with the DEO and it’s not always safe for the people that know my identity and—”

“Kara—”

“—and as much as I wanted to be completely open with you, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt. I can’t. I won’t. So then—”

“Kara, darling.” The endearment smashes sideways into Kara and brings her ramble to a skidding, screeching halt. “Stop talking.”

Dumbstruck, Kara does. She turns back to Lena and nearly suffocates at the fondness she finds shining back at her. It’s accompanied by a dash of amusement and that same exasperation from before, but the affection is there and it’s so warm that Kara’s cheeks heat up to match. How Lena can still look at her like that after what Kara’s kept from her is… it feels unfair.

“I’m really sorry Lena,” Kara insists quietly, this time staring directly into those striking windows of sea-glass green and willing her to see how acutely she means it.

“Don’t be.” Lena’s expression softens even further and Kara wonders if this is how it would feel to live life as a lava cake. Airy on the outside and melty on the inside. Warm and delicious all over. It’s nice. Maybe she can get Lena to eat her if—Kara blinks out of her daze. Okay so perhaps she is still a teensy, weensy bit tipsy.

Lena doesn’t seem to notice her brief departure because she adds very earnestly, “I understand why your identity needs safeguarding. I can’t imagine very many people know this about you.”

“No,” Kara agrees, eyes seeking the floor again.

“Frankly, I wouldn’t have expected you to reveal something so sensitive to someone like me.”

The self-deprecation in Lena’s tone is unacceptable. Kara is about to protest that she wanted to—would have if not for the magical influence of Alex’s good sense—when Lena shrugs.

“And we’ve only known one another for a year. There are bound to be some secrets.” The next part is whispered, as if Lena doesn’t mean for Kara to hear. “God knows I have some.”

“Wait—” Kara teeters closer, itching with that Lena-fueled curiosity that swims constantly through her veins.

Lena’s eyebrow twitches haughtily and she smiles, reaching out to pat Kara’s hand. “Matters for another time, darling.”

She wraps her fingers loosely around Kara’s and guides them both onto the couch. Kara, ostensibly still in her underwear, pulls a throw pillow into her lap.

Without warning, Lena resumes the video. The frozen widescreen snapshot of Kara’s behind shrinks away mercifully to the top corner of her TV, revealing a smirking newscaster barely keeping her laughter at bay. Her brown eyes dance as she describes Supergirl’s latest antics in excruciating detail to whichever unfortunate souls are watching at this time of the night.

“Why are we still watching this?” Kara mumbles, hugging the pillow to her chest. Lena remains placidly silent.

Just as Kara thinks her public shaming is complete, a new video overtakes the screen. This one is shot from a much better—or incriminating—angle. Namely, a news helicopter hovering at altitude, level with Supergirl as she floats in lazy spirals then flutters hundreds of feet down, playful and giggling, before shooting back up and starting again.

Kara really takes the cake when she stops mid-somersault and flashes the camera an unfocused wave and a dazzling smile. ‘Up, up and away,’ the half-naked superhero slurs. Then she proceeds to plunge straight out of the sky, giggling gleefully as she falls.

“Oh god,” Kara groans as the camera swings wildly to chase her back into the frame. It finally catches up to her as Kara’s trajectory is intercepted by a green-black blur. She and the blur disappear in a flash of red and the video gives way to the newscaster once more, speculating about the inexplicable nature of her behavior.

So that’s why J’onn had showed up to fly Supergirl home.

“I…” Is there kryptonite in the room or is she just burning up from sheer embarrassment? “I don’t remember doing that,” Kara whispers, quiet as a mouse.

Beside her, Lena snorts. Kara swivels to glare at her but the image of Lena stifling a laugh into the tips of her fingers is entirely too cute to hold a grudge against. She pouts instead.

Eventually the CEO regains her composure and asks, exceedingly gentle, “What do you remember?”

Kara’s features scrunch into a frown as she replays the last several hours in her head. It’s somewhat blurry, but there’s a chronological consistency to the snippets of clarity.

“It… it was my night off,” Kara begins. A picture of Alex’s rowdy laugh shimmers to life in her mind’s eye and she smiles. “Sister’s night.”

Lena nods, smiles just because Kara did and that—that’s really something. Her heart does a happy little flump. Then she remembers.

“That’s why I didn’t have my supersuit!” Kara snaps her fingers. “J’onn told us he had everything covered tonight. He said we should take the night to really unwind.”

Lena’s unimpressed little ah sets Kara into a guilty grimace. “I… don’t think this is what he meant he meant by unwind,” Kara admits.

“Probably not.” Lena agrees. It’s a gentle admonishment and a flat tease all in one and Kara is too busy thinking that Lena is miraculous to be at all bothered by the joke at her expense. “What did you two plan for sister’s night?”

“Well… Alex came over and we had a few drinks. I remember she brought some sort of alien punch or something. I don’t know what was in it but it was really yummy. I… got a little drunker than I meant to.”

Kara omits the part where she ignored Alex’s warning about the potency of said beverages because ‘I have a Kryptonian metabolism Alex. I’ll be fine.’

“Oh. So this…” Lena gestures vaguely in the direction of the television. It’s paused on another unflattering view from below and Kara wrinkles her nose. “Was alcohol-induced?”

“Yeah…” she admits, dragging out the word.

Lena raises an eyebrow. “And… voluntary?”

“Um. Yes.”

Lena regards her for a long moment, then releases a gargantuan breath. Her shoulders fall with it, settling almost one full inch below where they’d been twisted in tension since she arrived. “Well that’s a relief,” she exhales.

“It—it is?” Kara tilts her head.

“I thought you’d been poisoned.” Lena looks at her sharply and Kara swallows. “I was… concerned.”

The flash of vulnerability in her eyes is as close as Lena gets to chastising her, but Kara still feels it like a punch to the gut. It doesn’t take much work to put herself in Lena’s shoes, to imagine the sensation of the ground dropping out from underneath her when a slew of worst case scenarios take up residence in her brain. Combined with the realization that Supergirl’s erratic behavior is also her best friend’s, it might just warrant the frazzled and urgent messages in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry,” Kara winces. “I promise I’m okay. Just a bit hungover, probably.” She pauses thoughtfully. “If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t entirely wrong.” Lena’s brow furrows and Kara grins dumbly, if only to inject a little levity into the moment. “Alcohol is pretty much poison. I just, you know, did the poisoning myself. I had a great time.”

There’s a stifled snort sound again and then Lena’s chuckling, loose at last and shaking her head fondly. Kara melts into the angelic sound, into the familiarity and affection twinkling within.

“So long as you’re okay,” Lena adds.

“I’m alright,” Kara reassures. She reaches for Lena’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I promise.”

Keeping their hands joined, Lena tips her head curiously. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”

“Yeah?”

“If you and Alex were home—here, then why did you leave without your suit on?”

“Oh, uh...” Kara thinks for a moment. “We went out at some point. Alex convinced me to go to Al’s—the alien bar—to meet up with Maggie—which,” Kara bristles and sniffs loudly, “was extremely generous of me, considering it was sister’s night.”

She glances at Lena for validation but her best friend just blinks placidly and waits. Kara pauses to wonder if she’s causing any sort of distress with all of the alien information she’s tossing her way. After a few seconds of Kara studying her, Lena finally raises her eyebrows in question.

“Sorry,” Kara shakes her head. “Anyway. We went to the bar and had a couple more drinks. And then—this is where things get kind of fuzzy.” Kara blushes. “Alex left with Maggie, I think.”

“Alex left you at the bar alone? While you were clearly not sober?” Lena’s face screws into a glare of disapproval. “That doesn’t sound like Agent Danvers.”

Kara barks a laugh at the formal form of address. “No, it definitely doesn’t,” she concedes. “I don’t think she actually left me though… I remember being in a cab. And then… um. Not in a cab.”

“Did the taxi drop you off at home?”

“No?” Kara wracks her brain. “I don’t think so. I remember wandering around a park somewhere and realizing I was lost. I know the city so well from above but down here I… get a little turned around sometimes.”

Kara’s cheeks flush at the admission but Lena’s fingers flex around her hand encouragingly and she relaxes.

“Anyway, when I realized I was lost I figured it would be best if I just flew myself home.”

The logic of the moment comes rushing back all at once and Kara feels the tips of her ears go from pink to red to redder. Lena, genius that she is, puts it together rather quickly.

“But you didn’t have your suit.”

“Yeah…” Kara affirms through a dry mouth.

“So you…” Lena begins, encouraging Kara to finish. She’s too embarrassed to even try. After several moments of nothing, Lena rips off the bandaid. “So you undressed to avoid being recognized?”

There’s an inferno blazing somewhere in this room, Kara swears it. She nods, not daring to meet Lena’s eyes.

A minuscule giggle reaches her ears and she breaks.

“I—I didn’t have a choice!” Kara whines. “It was late, I was lost, and my phone was dead and I, I… didn’t know what else to do!”

“Oh dear. Good thing you’re invulnerable.” Lena chuckles. “It's okay, darling.”

“It’s not!” Kara glares over at the TV. “I thought I was being clever. I even folded my shirt and my jeans and hid them in a bush, out of sight and everything! I figured no one would recognize me if I was quick about getting home so I took off but then…”

Lena looks at her expectantly, every bit the generous friend trying to keep her laughter trapped behind her pursed lips.

“Flying felt so good.” Kara admits, contrite. “I’m always wearing that gosh-darned suit with the long sleeves and the tights and just—the warm air felt so nice on my skin. Like the night sky was hugging me hello.”

She’s pouting up a storm now. “I really didn’t expect it. And, well, I guess I was just having a really nice time and my flight home accidentally turned into….” She gestures half-heartedly to the TV. “That.”

“Oh honey.” Lena extends one arm and Kara doesn’t hesitate to dive under it, hiding her face in the comfort of Lena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. It’s just a minor PR snafu. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“Alex is gonna be so mad,” Kara grouses, burrowing towards the enticingly familiar scent emanating from Lena’s skin, just a few inches away.

“Perhaps,” Lena allows, rubbing up and down Kara’s arm. It helps soothe the panic that comes with the knowledge of her elder sister’s impending fury. “But you didn’t hurt anyone. And the risk to your identity seems exceedingly low. Who else knows what I gave you for Secret Santa last year?”

Kara thinks back to the holiday, to the warm glow in her apartment and the people she loves gathered to share smiles and stories and gifts. “Just the people that were there that day,” she answers. “Alex, my mom, James, and Winn. And you.”

The memory of Lena glowing alongside her family makes Kara hum happily and nuzzle a little closer. Lena’s arm tightens around Kara’s shoulders.

“And is there any risk of them putting the pieces together from this video?”

“Well, that’s not really a problem,” Kara sighs. “My family has always known. James knew before I even met him because he’s friends with Superman. And Winn is the only other person I’ve ever told.”

She freezes, nervous that the reminder of being kept in the dark might cause Lena to put some distance between them. It’s the last thing Kara wants, to hurt her best friend. Besides, she’d quite like to stay right where she is, a scant inch away from the soft skin of Lena’s collarbone.

“There you have it,” Lena soothes, mercifully unfazed by the news of others that knew before her. “This hiccup should wash away with the next news cycle.” Lena pauses, tenses a bit. “Unless…”

Kara wriggles, prompting her to continue. “Unless what?”

“Have you…” the CEO clears her throat and from this distance Kara can hear her swallow uncomfortably. “Have you shown anyone else?”

“Shown anyone what?”

“This, uh, particular outfit of yours?”

“Pshh, no.” Kara scoffs and shakes her head. The movement brings the cold tip of her nose into contact with the heavenly warmth of Lena’s skin. Kara attributes the slight shiver that runs through her friend’s body to the shock of temperature difference. “Why would I show anyone my underwear?”

When Lena grimaces, the muscles in her neck tighten and Kara instinctively tucks her head closer to smooth the tension away.

“Well,” Lena begins, sounding a bit strangled. Her voice is lower, somewhat shy, and Kara is distracted by the way it vibrates against her forehead when Lena speaks. “If you… perhaps… brought someone home with you.”

“When I invite guests over I don’t include my underwear drawer in the tour of the apartment, Lena. That’s silly.”

“No—that’s not what I—hmph.” Exasperated, Lena finally makes herself clear. “I’m asking if you’ve slept with anyone, Kara.”

The superhero jolts upright, squeaking in surprise. “What?”

Lena clenches her jaw and releases it, taking a fortifying breath. “Have you been intimate with anyone recently that might’ve seen this set of underwear?” Kara gapes like a fish out of water and Lena rolls her eyes as she spells it out, seeming oddly pained. “Could they possibly make the connection between Supergirl’s appearance tonight and your identity as Kara Danvers?”

“Oh,” Kara breathes, struggling to sit still under Lena’s scrutiny. She peels at the fraying edges of her throw pillow. “Um. No.”

“Okay.” It may be Kara’s imagination, but it almost looks like Lena heaves a sigh of relief. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I…” the corner of her mouth twitches. “There hasn’t been anyone. Not since Mon-El.”

Kara considers the nights she’s spent with people she loves instead, the extra time that not having a love interest has afforded her with Lena and feels quite at peace with this reality. She smiles. “So I guess we’re safe on that front.”

Lena smiles back, closed-mouthed but still dimpled, and Kara feels like a lava cake again.

“See? You have nothing to worry about,” the CEO assures.

“Except—can anyone trace the purchase back to you?” Kara asks suddenly. “You said it was a custom order, won’t… won’t people think that you’re Supergirl?!”

Lena bursts into laughter at the suggestion. She howls for seconds while Kara dissolves into a panic at the idea of people going after Lena, mistaking her for the drunk Kryptonian.

“Lena, this is serious,” Kara admonishes. Lena just keeps on laughing. “You could be seriously targeted! I need—I need to protect you. Someone could try to hurt you if they thought…” her wild ideas get the best of her, spiraling out of control at the mere suggestion of increased attempts on Lena’s life.

Kara spaces out, flicking rapidly from scenario to scenario about how best to protect her best friend from this type of exposure. Maybe Lena should move in with her, so Kara can keep her safe all the time. If they share a bed, Kara will know she’s protected even while unconscious. Lena maintains an office at Catco, so the workday is covered. What about bathroom breaks, would those be—

A warm palm smooths over Kara’s forearm and squeezes until her tailspin slows to a halt. “Kara, darling. Come back.”

Kara blinks forcefully once, twice, three times, and then she’s planted firmly in her living room, staring once more at the overwhelming wealth of fondness in light green eyes. Those eyes crinkle around a smile as soon as Kara fully returns to her surroundings.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Lena assures slowly. Kara wrinkles her brow and Lena explains. “I went to a store in person to place the order and made my purchases with cash. The payment isn’t traceable to my name and no one recognized me, I’m certain of it.”

Face pinched into a frown, Kara shakes her head. “Are you sure? I won’t take that risk with you, Lena.”

“I’m sure,” the CEO smiles again and it’s nearly dazzling enough to distract Kara from her panic-fueled worry storm. “I appreciate the concern, but I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor even knows what a baseball cap is, let alone wears one.” Lena tilts her head thoughtfully. “For that matter, I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor could secretly be Kryptonian, all things considered.”

Kara scowls at the indirect mention of Lex, but considers Lena’s logic. She’s right in the end—short of a credit card receipt with Lena’s name on it or video footage showing her obtaining the exact same garments Supergirl is wearing, it’d be nigh impossible to make the connection.

“Okay,” she finally relents. “Okay. So now all I have to worry about is Alex’s wrath.”

The thought brings another grimace to her face and she buries it into her throw pillow. Alex is going to be so mad.

“I think Alex will be fine once we talk it through with her,” Lena offers. The ‘we’ wraps around Kara like a blanket before Lena’s arms encircle her with a comfort that Kara’s powerless to resist. She drops the pillow in favor of scooting back into her previous position, nestled into the juncture of Lena’s neck and shoulder.

They sit in silence for a few minutes as Kara recovers from her shame. The lateness of the hour and the steady drum of Lena’s heart lull Kara into a dreamy, half-conscious state and before she’s fully aware of herself she asks, “Lena?”

“Hm?”

The low hum of Lena’s voice in the apartment shrouds Kara in calm and she instinctively adjusts so she can press her nose and mouth the source of that heavenly vibration. Lena gulps and Kara is too sleepy to think anything of it.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” Lena repeats. “Why?”

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you my secret?”

“No, darling, I’m not mad,” Lena mutters softly and places a gentle hand on the side of Kara’s head. “It’s your secret to tell. What matters to me is that you’re safe. That’s all.”

The Kryptonian smiles and snuggles close. “Well, I’m really glad that you know now. And that you still like me. There’s so much I wanna tell you.” She pouts. “No more secrets for us.”

“Of course I still like you.” Then, most miraculous of all, Lena drops a soft kiss to Kara’s forehead. “You’re lovely, Kara. Being Supergirl doesn’t change that.”

Kara hums contentedly and drowsily returns the kiss wherever she can reach. Which happens to be the exposed jut of Lena’s collarbone. She notices a shift immediately—Lena’s muscles sing with tautness and her heart rate skyrockets.

“Lena?”

“Mm?” Her response is slightly high-pitched this time, even if the rumble of it still rolls through Kara like thunder.

“Why is your heartbeat so fast?”

“What—how can you even—oh. Superhearing. Of course.”

“Mhm,” Kara smiles, wondering languidly if Lena can feel her grin even if she can’t see it, ‘cause of the way Kara’s mouth is smooshed against her neck. Lena smells really, really good.

“You smell really, really good.” Again, Lena’s heartbeat ratchets up a notch. Kara frowns.

“Lena, you need to calm down.” Kara speaks right up against the source of the hammering in her ears, feeling the corresponding pulse pound on her lips. “‘S very loud. That can’t be good for you.”

“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena squeaks. Kara has her doubts but forgets them immediately when Lena says, “Besides, I’m with Supergirl. I’m as safe as can be.”

“That’s right.” Kara grins then places another sleepy kiss directly over that drumbeat, aiming to soothe it. “Shhh, i zhao,” Kara murmurs at Lena’s pulse point. “Settle down. You’re safe. It’s sleep time now.”

The next thing she hears after a hitch in Lena’s breath is the rich sound of Lena’s chuckle. “Did you just speak Kryptonian to my heartbeat, Kara?”

“Mm, yeah.” She’s beyond sleepy, half her cognizance has already yielded to unconsciousness. “I can never sleep when it’s loud like that.”

“What do you mean never?”

“I always check on you, Lena,” Kara nuzzles. “If your heartbeat’s too loud, I get worried.”

“You… you listen for me?”

Kara frowns again. Somehow this is only making things louder. Won’t stop her from telling the truth though.

“‘Course I listen. You’re my person,” she declares with a huff and drapes an arm over Lena’s midriff. “I dunno what’s bothering you right now though. You said it yourself, you’re safe with me.”

Lena sucks in a breath and holds it. Kara knows because she can feel the rise of Lena’s chest under her cheek and the way Lena’s throat works beneath her mouth. Kara noses against her neck, willing Lena to keep breathing and relax. Eventually she does.

Lena’s sigh comes out slow and measured and finally, her heartbeat begins to slow. She leans her head overtop of Kara’s. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Mhm,” Kara agrees. “Quiet now though, ‘s time for bed.” Lena nods above her and Kara doesn’t even deign to consider that they’re both still half upright on the couch. She does, however, remember a passing comment from earlier in the night.

“Lena?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you tell me your secret, too?”

In the ensuing pause, Kara hears the slowing beat do a stutter step in Lena’s chest. She nuzzles into it and Lena sighs once more.

Then Kara feels the warmth of lips pressed to her temple and suddenly her own heart is mirroring the pattern of Lena’s, clamoring for more of that soft sweetness against her skin.

“I think you might already know,” Lena whispers into her hair.

With the scent of Lena in her lungs and the softness of her friend in her arms and around her, Kara thinks she does, too.

(Morning finds them in the same position hours later, curled against one another on the couch. Necks stiff and backs crooked, they startle awake to a pounding on the door and an unmistakably familiar grumbling on the other side.

“Kara, you’d better be in there! What the fuck happened last night?!”)

--

[starflungwaddledee]

Oooo starstruck dee has little stars at the bottom of her feet! Are they just aesthetic or would they make imprints into the ground? (like pawprints)

exactly like that! though she's not the only one...

edit: might need to add some additional dialogue to this to make it more clear, but a clarification in the interim; he knows about his own footprints. he's just surprised to see something similar already there when he knows he's only just landed. he lifts his own shoe to confirm that they're not identical (and also to reveal this to the viewer). seems his stoicism beat off the clarity in this one, sorry 😭

[wigglebox]

Suptober [Extended] - Day 21 || Love 💚💙

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptadoodledoo; land o Goshen, this was a tough one, so thanks for sticking with me]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) 12: family (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

Breach imminent

MH

Sherlock groans, shoving his phone between couch cushions and drawing a sleeping Rosie closer to him. 

'Bad news?' John asks from his chair. He looks over his reading glasses at where Sherlock is curled around his daughter, and feels affection sting so hard in his chest that he absently rubs at it.

'The worst,' Sherlock answers sullenly

John runs through the likely options in his head, then goes with his gut. 'Your parents are coming to town?'

Sherlock opens his eyes and stares at John, his expression full of surprise, then affection, then shammy casualness. 'I have been a good influence on your deduction skills, clearly.' 

John chuckles. 'That, or your brother advised me to clear my calendar and clean the flat.'

'Meddling queen,' Sherlock mutters into Rosie's hair. Then his phone pings again. 

I haven't told them.

MH

John doubles down. 'He knows, I take it? About our… development?' 

'You are doing very well today.' 

'Feelings, Sherlock. I'm good at people and their feelings.'

'Yes, yes, that's why I keep you around. Of course he knows; I let him keep the surveillance up in the stairwell in exchange for having none in here.' 

'Ah.' John had suspected as much, though admittedly he had not considered it at the time of the first (very unplanned) tryst. 'Has he told your parents?' 

'Apparently not.' 

Silence stretches. They've come a long way, but John feels too keenly the risk/reward scenario here, and is undecided.

This time it's John's phone that pings. 

It's up to you, of course, but rest assured: they would be inordinately pleased. 

MH

John's eyebrow quirks. 'Your parents like me?' he finally says, going for casual but missing, and he knows it. 

'You're very likeable.'

'You know, from anyone else that would be a compliment.' 

Sherlock doesn't answer beyond a grunt. It's somehow safe to have this conversation in this arrangement, with the comforting stretch of the room and the gorgeous sleeping toddler between them. They're connected, but not so much as to overwhelm. 

'How much time have we got, do you reckon?' John asks, almost to the air.

'Far too little,' Sherlock grumbles.

'Right, but from you that could mean three months.'

'Yes, well, seeing as your birthday is in two weeks, but tis the season of primroses so they have to schedule us in between, I'm surmising it to be about three hours, in actuality.'

John snorts. 'That's a bit harsh.'

'No, no, they're beautiful primroses.'

'Hang on,' John says suddenly, running back through what Sherlock has said. 'They know when my birthday is?'

'Of course.'

'They care when my birthday is?'

'Don't be daft.'

'I'm trying, but they hardly know me. And what they know of me is not altogether flattering.'

'I said don't be daft.'

John can't stop a frustrated noise. 'Then explain it better.'

Sherlock opens his eyes, considers him for a moment, then he breaks eye contact and buries his nose in Rosie's hairline. 'They know of my affections for you. And that's enough for them.'

John's breath deserts him for a moment. 'Sherlock…'

'Don't let's make a big thing out of it, please.'

John wants to laugh. It's already literally the biggest thing in his life. 'Alright,' he says instead. 'But... let me be the one to tell them, yeah?'

Sherlock goes very still, not lifting his gaze. 'You'd be amenable to that?'

Sod this, it's been long enough. John shunts his reading glasses aside and stands, listening to his bones crick as he crosses and crouches in front of the two most important people in his orbit. 'Yeah, course.' He presses his lips against Rosie's forehead, then Sherlock's, without hesitation. 'Try and get rid of me.'

Sherlock finally, finally meets his eyes, and John feels so much he wants to tackle both of them and just cocoon for a little while. Tell the world to bugger off.

So, of course, there's a knock at the door. Sherlock groans, and Rosie's face scrunches up in the universal expression of, "How dare you wake me up, you rude creature."

'Three hours?' John says while scooping his daughter out of Sherlock's embrace. She needs a change. Maybe he should use that baby magic and let Sherlock's parents do it, he thinks with a grin.

'I am not in control of all variables, unfortunately,' Sherlock mutters into the sofa, where he's pressed his face.

John's mouth curves into a smirk as he heaves up (bloody hell, getting older is not for the weak) and turns towards the door. He wishes fleetingly that Sherlock was behind him, in solidarity if nothing else.

Then, suddenly, he is, his mouth pressing against Rosie's sleep-rumpled cheek over John's shoulder. He doesn't turn to John, but he doesn't have to. 'Into battle?'

John nods, then reaches for the door.

[❤️]

[iron-sparrow]

JUNELEZEN 【第 10 天】 SHRINE

⸺ offer me that deathless death ♫

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Microfic

December prompt: pine

Word count: 508

No warnings apply

Rated T

@steddiemicrofic

Steve has a problem.

It’s not a major problem, not really. It’s not Vecna again. Not even close.

It’s Eddie.

After the gates closed for the final time, Steve and Eddie had gotten along in a way that had far surpassed Dustin’s expectations, and then some.

For the past five months, Steve has been overjoyed to call Eddie his boyfriend.

A boyfriend who hasn’t stepped foot in Steve’s house since November changed into December and he broke the Christmas decorations out.

Steve had been over to Eddie’s multiple times, which isn’t a problem, per se, but, well…

Steve and Eddie are both healthy young men with certain needs that arise occasionally. And they can’t do anything half the time because Wayne’s home, and none of them want that.

And of course, Steve could always go home and do it himself, but it’s not the same. He’s not touched his boyfriend below the belt in over ten days and he thinks he’s going through withdrawal.

“You’re not going through withdrawal, you’re horny and pining,” Robin says flatly. Steve squawks at her.

He keeps trying to figure it out, is the thing. He wonders if Eddie is secretly a grinch, but no, his boyfriend loves Christmas more than he does.

Maybe it’s the rich-person decorations, but that’s never stopped Eddie from coming over before. And besides, Steve had explained that none of the decorations were his, but his parents’, and just what he had, and Eddie had seemed to understand. He’d come over no problem… before Steve put up the decorations.

It has to be something, he knows, so he goes home and looks around. Wreath on the front door, Christmas tree in the living room, garland on the stairs, lights in the kitchen… it’s nothing that Eddie doesn’t have too—besides the garland on the stairs—but he can’t see Eddie getting upset about that. Certainly not enough to where he’d refuse to come over.

Steve finally, reluctantly realizes Robin’s right. He needs to talk to Eddie, so he drives over before he has the chance to lose his nerve. “Eddie?”

“Stevie!” Eddie brightens almost comically and pulls him inside before kissing him. “Hey, baby.” He pulls back and must see something on Steve’s face because suddenly he looks worried. “What’s wrong?”

Steve worries his lip and blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Eddie’s face drops. “Sweetheart, no, what- what’s happening? What’re you thinking?” He leads Steve over to the couch and sits with him.

Steve shrugs miserably. “I’m being stupid,” he mutters.

“Honey,” Eddie says seriously, “you’re not stupid. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“You won’t come over.” Steve looks down at their intertwined hands. “Ever since I put up Christmas decorations. You came over once, cut it short, and haven’t come over again. So I must’ve done something.”

“Oh, babylove,” Eddie sighs. “No, you didn’t do anything. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you. I don’t know why I haven’t yet.” He looks down, then back up. “I’m allergic to pine, baby. And you have a real tree.”

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Person A: “Huh, that’s strange.”

Person B: “What is?”

Person A: “The animals were all making a racket out there earlier... but now everything’s dead silent.”

[starryluminary]

NoCoVember Week 1: Sun & Moon / Cat & Dog

Finally participating in @zuureleena s nocovember!!! Yay!! I’m exited to finally participate after two years of saying I would then not participating!!

I don’t have anything else to say. NOCO SUN AND MOON

[moomoorare]

A wife to death, rebirth and mutilation. The axe's blade comes down and down again, a nightmare done, gone and then the light throws you on the dirt of a new world, fighting for your life and victor's cup yet again. Will you win?

Reblogs <3 are my best friends

[dungeonmechoui]

Marchil March day 7 - Food (+ Modern AU while i was at it)

bonus version bc i like to see chilchuck panic internally. get flirted with old man !!

[fantasykiri5]

Day 6 of @hermitadaymay and it’s the one and only Sans Undertale!!

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 51

Geralt isn't a fan of the new intern his family's office has hired. He never stops humming or snapping his fingers, and he always gets Geralt's coffee wrong, and he trips over nothing and spills paperwork everywhere at least twice a week, and he won't stop flirting with Geralt, but more than anything, the absolute worst part about it all... is Geralt's starting to look forward to his shenanigans. This all comes to a head when one night when everyone is going home, Geralt and Jaskier are last in the building. They're on their way down in the elevator when it stops. Oh shit- They're stuck in the elevator. Possibly overnight. I like to imagine Jaskier thinks Geralt hates him, and is also terrified of their current situation, so he has a quirky fun lil panic attack (I can make this joke i used to have really bad panic attacks before i got on better meds) and the person talking him down from it is the chiseled god of a man he wants to drool over but Jaskier is SURE must hate his guts. Geralt doesn't hate his guts. Anymore-