#prompt 16

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 16

Here's my try at today's @jilytoberfest prompt!

October 16th Prompt: 🎶“My words are my faith, to hell with our good name”🎶 - Hum Hallelujah by Fall Out Boy

As the darkened street erupted into chaos, one slim hand closed over Lily's wrist. Another smashed against her mouth and nose, stifling the Body-Bind on her tongue before she could retaliate.

The Death Eaters had known that they were coming.

Her attacker yanked her backwards, shoving her against the wall of the nearest alley. She stared into the cold eyes of the mask.

Lily could barely think — How had they known? — but fought on instinct, stomping on the Death Eater's foot, grabbing her wand with her free hand when he grunted in pain. The sounds of battle ricocheted from the street: Alice firing a quick barrage of hexes, Mad-Eye barking orders, James dueling with bravado, mocking his opponent...

She shoved the wand against the Death Eater's chest and bit his hand, forcing him to draw back from her face. The breathless spell that she gasped out only pushed him back a foot. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook.

"Lily, stop it, stop," the Death Eater whispered. "I'm trying to help you. Look."

He spoke like muggy Augusts and Cokeworth parking lots. He reached for the mask.

"Don't," said Lily, gut churning. "I know who you are. Get off me."

He ignored her, pushing them further into the shelter of the alley. "Lily, why are you here?" said Severus Snape, speaking urgently in a clipped, hushed tone. "Listen. No, listen. You can still back out. Nobody here knows your name, except for me. You won't get hurt if you keep your head down...the Muggle-borns who go along will be alright..."

He continued in a quick monologue, as though he were racing to get out every word, but all Lily could comprehend was the sickly brightness of curses illuminating his masked face. "You're out of your mind," she said flatly.

"I'm out of my mind? Me?" he spat in return. "Which one of those bastards recruited you? Was it Potter? Doesn't he care...doesn't he realize how dangerous..."

"Dangerous, because your people will kill us?"

Snape was silent. Lily laughed. "What, nothing to say?"

"You should run," he said quietly. "Forget him. Forget all of them. I can help you..."

"I'm not the one of us who betrays her friends, Sev," Lily replied coldly. She lifted her left hand, making sure he saw the ring there. "I don't break vows, either, for the record."

Snape's hands clenched into fists. From the brawl in the street, Lily heard a familiar voice cry out in pain. James.

There wasn't time to waste on this game. "Petrificus Totalus," Lily hissed, shoving Snape back against the opposite wall, stiff. "And by the way," she said, seething, "James and I don't give a damn if your Death Eater friends learn our names. Let them come for us. We're fighting back."

Then, leaving Snape behind, Lily threw herself into the fray.

[kybercrystals94]

Everyday We’ve Got

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 16|Prompt 16: “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Rating: G

Words: 696

Summary: Hunter wonders what will happen to Omega when they’re gone.

“She’s going to be alone someday.”

Echo’s awareness is ripped out of report he was reading. “What?”

Hunter doesn’t look at him, his eyes fixated on the little girl chasing Wrecker through the tall grass, their laughter floating over the clean, clear air. Hunter’s face is drawn, and he absently kneads his right thumb into the palm of his left hand. “How long do you suppose the Kaminoans planned for clones to live? Naturally, I mean. If we weren’t killed during the war.”

“Honestly, I don’t think the long necks thought that far ahead,” Echo says.

Hunter nods. “Tech said that the average human lives to approximately 75 standard years. But for us that would be halved, since clones age twice as fast. So, if we’re lucky, we might live for 35 standard years.” Hunter clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything else.

“And Omega will still be a young woman,” Echo finishes for him.

Hunter nods again, jaw tightening.

“For what it’s worth,” Echo says, “I don’t think Omega will be ever alone. That kid has got a good head on her shoulders, and an affinity to finding friends in the strangest places.” Echo breathes a laugh, but Hunter only smirks grimly.

“Well, that affinity also gets her into trouble,” Hunter mutters.

Echo chuckles. “She’s still a kid, Sarge. But she’s still got us.” Echo nudges Hunter in the shoulder with a fist. “She’s still got you.”

A shrill, delighted squeal pierces the air, and the two men see Wrecker scooping Omega up and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack. He starts walking up the hill toward the tree Hunter and Echo have been sitting against the past half hour while the two of them played.

Echo continues before the roughhousing duo are in earshot. “Supposing you’re right, and we’ve got 35 years in this galaxy…that means we have a little over twenty years left, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Then I say,” Echo says, keeping his voice low, “that we make the most of everyday we’ve got with her.”

Hunter is looking at him now, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. But there is an edge of hope that wasn’t there before.

That’s the moment Wrecker lumbers up, a giggling Omega still draped over his shoulder.

“Look what I found! A wild Omega,” Wrecker crows, “You know they’re rare in these parts?”

“Put me down!” Omega squeaks out through her breathless laughter.

“Mouthy little thing,” Wrecker goes on, “Can we keep her?”

Hunter cracks a smile. “I don’t know. Tech doesn’t like pets on his ship.”

“Hey!” Omega cries, wiggling around in Wrecker’s grip so she can turn her head to see Hunter.

“I think he’d like this one,” Wrecker says. “She’s pretty smart.”

“And the Marauder could use a mascot,” Echo puts in.

“Guys!” Omega whines good-naturedly.

Wrecker laughs and swings Omega off his shoulder, setting her gently on her feet. She smiles brightly up at all of them, but her focus hones on Hunter. “I like this planet! How long are we going to stay?” she asks.

“Probably only until Tech is done with inventory,” Hunter says.

“Can we stay through the night cycle? We can have a campfire!” Omega bounces on her toes, and she reaches out to grasp Hunter’s hand. “Wrecker told me all about campfires, and they sound like the best thing ever!”

“Yeah, Hunter, can we?” Wrecker asks, sounding, if possible, more hopeful than their sister.

Hunter exchanges a glance with Echo, and Echo grins and shrugs. “It is a nice planet. Might as well make the most of it,” he says.

The Sergeant keeps his gaze for only a moment, a silent acknowledgement, before he looks down at the golden-haired child in their care. “Sure, kid. A campfire sounds like a good plan.”

Omega gasps delightedly. “Thank you, Hunter! This is going to be so much fun!”

Later that night, around a crackling, roaring campfire, Omega falls asleep tucked into Hunter’s side, and Hunter holds her close. “Someday,” he whispers, “I’m gonna go where you can’t follow…but while you’ve got me, little one, I’ll protect you to the ends of the galaxy. I promise.”

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tag List!✨

[siren-darkocean]

Flufftober 2024

Prompt 16 of 31

Prompt - Yes, No, Maybe

Fandom - Disney's Gargoyles

Ship - Elisa Maza/Goliath

Rating - Teen & Up

Warnings - None

Extra - Elisa on her cycle, the reminder that apparently women in current time having cycles more frequently apparently shows were healthier than back then, Goliath yoinks a chocolate, short

“Well, you definitely made my night better.” Elisa greeted him with a thin smile. Goliath was concerned at that. “What has-” The gargoyle cut himself off at scent change coming from his love.

Goliath leaned closer to Elisa and sniffed her a bit, he could smell a tinge of copper around her but not in one that would put him in panic like when Broadway accidentally shot her with her gun when playing with it, he was sure the princess experienced this before at least two or three times. He blinked in realization, “You are menstruating.” He said sounding like he was confirming something.

Elisa blinked in surprise at that, “You got that from my smell?” She asked him incredulously. “I have experienced this with the princess at least two or three times in my time around her before the curse.” He explained simply to her.

Must complete 16 (currently 15) @flufftober before the day ends

Anyways hello Gargoyles fanbase enjoy this humble offering

[hetakinkmeme]

Shrek crossover with Prussia as donkey, Spain as puss in boots, and, surprise surprise, England as Shrek but it's only the eyebrows that change into green mossy hairs all over. Fiona is France who's quite hairy himself and finds love in a hairy Englishman. Go nuts, make it funny! (Sequels with babies America and Canada would be cute)

.

[chocoblep]

#16: Tempering Expectations

Prompt: Third-rate

Lydjana had been toiling over these new sleeping capsules for days, and she couldn’t understand why they weren’t working. The ballistics force that was being applied to them was the same as it had been before, as she’d been using her hand cannon both then and now to test. They weren’t as aerodynamic, which was to be expected considering they were half-filled with liquid, but the worst part was that half of them were breaking open when they came out of the barrel. That was a far cry from breaking on impact, which was the intended result.

At first, she thought the compound might have been too heavy, so she launched a dummy capsule with a lesser amount of water in it. This, too, broke when she shot it, so she recalibrated the hand cannon for a lighter shot and tried again. When she still met with no success and a very wet mud puddle, she decided to use the last of her previous batch of mix to make a few more capsules. There wasn’t enough for more than a couple, so she only molded two, and went to grab something to eat as she waited for them to set.

When she came back, she tried the same experiment, and the capsule soared through the air and hit her target with a loud thunk, breaking open and splashing it with the water she’d filled it with. Initially, excitement filled her and she whooped–she was getting somewhere! It was short-lived, though, because almost as soon as she’d cheered her success she realized why she’d been struggling so much. So she gathered up three capsules–the last old one, and two of the new ones she’d made–and tucked them gently into her satchel, leaving her testing grounds behind.

The Sapphire Avenue Exchange was packed this time of day, and as Lydi approached the alchemist’s market stall she usually brought her mix from, she was so tired, hot, and frustrated that she barely had a filter left. She dropped all three capsules onto the counter and then slammed her palms on either side of them, causing the Lalafell behind it to jump in surprise and the capsules to hop an ilm in the air before settling again on the wooden surface.

“Ah, Lydjana! Wh-what can I do for you?”

“Do you want to explain to me why, Hihimori, when using the exact same process, add-ins, equipment, environment, and gun  to make and fire these capsules, two of these will break apart on the shot and only one will break apart when it hits its target?” she asked, leaning forward. To crowd over the counter. A nearby merchant glanced at them, but quickly looked away.

“Probably a molding issue,” the lalafell replied, though he sounded less sure of that than he likely intended. “That kind of stuff is finicky–”

“How many batches of this mix have I bought from you?” she asked, cutting him off.

“A-A dozen, at least!” he replied.

“And I pay you well?”

“You do, lass!” he replied.

“And you’ve been putting filler in it recently?” She asked quickly, in the same tone as her last question.

“Yes–I mean, no! Shite…”  The man brought a small hand to drag down his face, sighing. “Yes, but it’s not what you think. The powder I put in this batch I had to substitute because my regular shipment never arrived, and it’s just as strong as the other–”

“No!” Lydjana slammed one hand against the counter, silencing him, and then picked up two of the capsules. She opened them both, showing him their construction. “Exact same shape, exact same thickness,” she growled, and then pulled a heavy book from her satchel and settled it on top of both of them. They held it perfectly straight, without bending. “Looks great, right? They’re both pretty strong. But watch this shit. Give it thirty seconds.”

Pulling the book away, she opened both capsules again and then pulled out her water skin, pouring a small amount of liquid into each one. Then she closed them and settled the book on them again. After about ten seconds, the new mixture’s capsule began to lose its integrity, the book listing atop it. After twenty, the book had moved enough that the other capsule came loose and rolled the length of the counter until Lydi stopped it with her hand, and as the book settled again, the capsule broke entirely beneath it, water splattering the counter and dripping down between the wood planks.

“Bugger me!” the alchemist said, quickly moving to pull whatever was under the counter from the dripping.

“I told you when I first ordered this that there would be liquid in these capsules. Did you think to test the mixture’s viability with liquid in them? It looks like your new powder is dissolving into it, and not only does that destroy the integrity of the capsule, but also ruins the potency of whatever’s inside it! You are either going to replace this batch with a legitimate one, or return my payment and I will do business elsewhere.”

The Lalafell raised his chin, fixing her with a glare. “I’ll replace half of the batch, if you bring back the faulty mixture,” he countered.

Lydi leaned forward just a touch more, her green eyes full of fire. “The entire batch, and here is the rest of your faulty mixture.” She shoved the only capsule remaining on the counter at him.

“Already used! I have no use for this!”

“Yes, well neither do I!” Lydi snapped, and then her voice rose. “And if I hadn’t been testing with this, I could have been killed because of it! Do you want that on your hands? Killing your customers because you didn’t test your damned substitute!?”

The lalafellan man widened his eyes, and at that moment a  hyuran man approached the counter with his hand resting on the pommel of the short sword at his hip and bearing the insignia of the Brass Blades on his coat, and Lydi straightened when she saw him.

“What’s the ruckus? You’re attractin’ attention.”

“This man sold me a mixture meant to form capsules for projectile-based delivery of substances, and substituted with inferior, ineffective ingredients without informing me of that change. He also charged me the same price he would have if he’d used the actual mixture we agreed upon. I was very specific with my request. You don’t mess around like this when it comes to guns and safety!”

The merchant looked between Lydi and the Brass Blade, and then sighed. “Here,” he said, moving to one of his ledgers and drawing a finger down the list. Then he counted out the exact amount that she’d paid him, and handed it over. 

“For the trouble. And I’ll replace the full batch, but I’m still waiting on the main ingredient. Apparently the original caravan they sent got attacked by a pack of jackals and lost it, but some mercenary took out the pack leader and they dispersed. Heard it was a bunch of shenanigans involved with that. They’re sending a replacement, but it won’t be here for a few more days.” He hesitated when she shook her head, his hand dropping with the gold still in his fingers. “Well then, do you want the recipe so you can take it somewhere else?”

“No! No,” Lydi said, taking a deep breath. “I paid for it, so keep the money if you’re replacing it. It’s the product I want. And trust me when I say you’re the only one I’ve found so far who’s managed to get it right and is able to produce it regularly, so I’d like to continue buying it from you. But hear me when I say this: When I order this in the future, no substitutes unless you discuss it with me first. I will find out eventually, and I don’t want to find out by getting injured or worse.”

“Yeah. You’ve always been level-headed, you just… surprised me roaring up like a Behemoth and I got defensive.”

The hyur looked between the two of them and raised his brows. “Everything’s good, then? No need to intervene?”

“No, sir,” both of them said in unison, and then Lydi leaned against the counter again, this time a touch more relaxed. The man nodded and returned to his post.

“Look, Mori, I like you, but I thought you were trying to pull a fast one on me, and when it comes to my guns, I can’t afford to mess around like that.” She gave him an apologetic look. “So I’m sorry I started in on you like that jackal that delayed your shipment, I just spent the whole day trying to figure out why these things were breaking left and right and I was really angry.”

The man took another deep breath and then let out a little laugh. “I like you too, Lydi, you’re a generous gal, and you’re right, I should have told you. Time’s money, and truth be told, I was busy and forgot about the liquids thing. My solemn promise that I’ll talk to you about it in the future.” 

“Well, you know what they say, mother is the necessity of invention. Maybe we can put our heads together when this happens and come up with something even better, yeah?”

“Aye.” He paused, and then looked up to her. “What were you gonna put in those capsules, anyway?”

“A sleeping draught that vaporizes when it comes into contact with outside air, and acts quickly on inhale.”

“Shite, you weren’t lying when you said that could be dangerous!” he exclaimed, just as another customer walked up to the counter. 

“Yeah. Someone shoots it, it explodes in their face, they fall asleep. Whatever they’re shooting at would either run off or shoot back.” Lydi collected the book and wiped it off, sticking it back in her satchel along with her last good capsule.

“Let me keep this faulty capsule. Maybe we can find a use for this mixture, eh? I’ve got a couple ideas. I’ll let you know when the original stuff comes back in and we can get you a good batch. And remind me not to make you mad!” He turned to acknowledge his new customer. “Hey, May! I’ve got your potions here, give me just a second to grab ‘em!” Then he looked to Lydi once more as he began fishing through the crate he’d pulled out from beneath the counter. “Do you need anything else before you go? I’ve got a few energy additives I’ve been working on if you want a sample or two on the house for the trouble.”

“Energy additives?” Lydi asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

“Aye! Add it to your water skin and it’ll keep ya goin’ like coffee. It’s derived from a nopalitender blossom extract from Tural, and I’ve been working on flavoring it. It’s been working pretty good! I’ve managed to almost replicate La Noscean Orange, and the grape one’s pretty much settled.” He spoke fast as he packaged up the potions, and then made the exchange with his customer and put the gold in his till.

“Oh… Sure! I’ll try it!”

As he bagged up a couple little powder packets and handed them over, he gave instructions on how much to use for a full skin of water, and Lydi had to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, finally.

“Well here I am, trying to put monsters to sleep, and you’re trying to wake me up!”

[midcinmancave]

Story Prompts:  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”, “No, I’m not okay.”

Story Title:  The Price of Royalty (part 3 of 3)

Summary: Robert is missing... the Princess is in despair. Complete Story Source on FB

Fictober24 Submission #14 Fandom:  Midnight Cinderella Featuring:  Robert Branche, The Princess Warnings:  Angst, Past physical violence Ratings/Genre:  General Audience, Drama Writer: Robert Branche

[estrellami-1]

I got a challenge for you with the writing prompts 👀 use 16, 17 AND 18 together. (Steddie, obviously)

16. "Excuse you?"

17. "This is all your fault!"

18. "I shouldn't be in love with you."

You’re choice on who says what 😌 (also doesn’t have to end happy, but we do love our angst w/happy endings)

Ooh I love this!!! I hope you didn’t necessarily mean in order, because, well… you’ll see. 😉

Dustin’s face is red. There are tears streaking down his face. Steve’s heart breaks as he reaches for Dustin and gets pushed away.

“This is all your fault!” Dustin screams, and Steve feels his fractured heart break irreparably.

“What?” He whispers, unable to believe he had heard correctly.

“It’s your fault!” Dustin insists, still crying. “If you hadn’t said what you did, Eddie would still be alive!”

Somehow, Steve’s heart breaks more. “Dustin-”

“No!” Dustin yells, pushing Steve away once more. “Just- just leave me alone!” He turns away, and no amount of pleading makes him turn back.

Steve leaves. Doesn’t know where he’s going until he’s at the cemetery, sitting in front of Eddie’s headstone. His body isn’t here; it’s still in the Upside Down somewhere. Steve will never forgive himself for that. He thinks, distantly, that he’s numb, in shock.

A dull laugh tears its way out of his throat. “He said it’s my fault,” he says. “Dustin, that is.” His throat clicks when he tries to swallow. “Said if I hadn’t said what I did, you’d still be alive. I hope- God, I hope that isn’t true. I don’t know what I’d do if it is. And I know he’s just looking for someone to blame, he’s grieving, I get that, but… it hurt. Y’know? Cause I thought we were past all that… that bullshit. Of thinking I’m still King Steve. Of thinking I’m not good enough, no matter what I do. Of thinking it’s not tearing me apart.” He shakes his head. Vaguely realizes he’s crying. “I just… God, I feel so stupid saying this, but… if there’s any way… just. Give me some sort of sign. Let me move on, at least. Let me be strong for everyone else still grieving you.”

He waits a few minutes, not terribly hopeful, but waxing more disappointed as the time passes. “I’m, uh. I’m choosing to believe there’s nothing you can do, instead of thinking you can’t hear me or something. I’m gonna come back, I swear. I dunno about the kids, but I know you love- um. You loved them. And you’d want to know how they’re doing. So I’ll at least tell you about them.”

Another minute passes as he wrestles his emotions under control, wiping the last errant tears from his eyes. “Same time next week?” He asks, imagining Eddie would grin and wink at him, say something like, “As long as you’re paying!”

With that thought, Steve stands and leaves.

He’s back next week. Says, as soon as he sits down, “Dustin’s not mad at me anymore, so that’s something. I think Claudia probably talked some sense into him. He’s just kinda… listless, now. Will too. I think, uh. I think he was hoping to talk to you. I dunno…” he sighs, tries to organize his thoughts. “I’m safe. That’s first of all. So if you are… it’s fine. Robin showed me a zine she brought back from a trip to Indy. Apparently the handkerchief means something. I didn’t know that until, like, three days ago. And it’s not that Will’s gonna start putting a hanky in one of his back pockets, but… I’ve seen the way he looks at Mike, y’know? And I wish I could help but I’ve got no experience with guys. Robin would be willing, but…” he chuckles. “She’s strictly into boobies. Which is kind of an inside joke, for us. Y’know she came out to me in a Starcourt bathroom while we were high off our asses with Russian truth serum? That’s one of the apocalypses we helped avert. Well, the Russians themselves weren’t the apocalypse. There was… well. It’s a whole thing. Billy Hargrove, remember him? He got mind-controlled. I hit him with a car because he was gonna kill Nance and them. He was fine, it wasn’t really him, y’know? Then he sacrificed himself. I’ve seen Max cry twice in the time that I’ve known her. She didn’t even cry when she sprained her ankle trying to land a flip. But she cried then. God, she was inconsolable. And he sacrificed himself for her. I think, for a while, she wished it had been her, instead of him.” He sighs, stands, smiles wanly at Eddie’s name. “Edmund, huh?”

He imagines Eddie’s smirk. “No relation to the Pevensies,” he’d say with a wink and a bow, “though I, too, came out of a closet.”

So it goes, week after week, month after month. The days get shorter and colder, then longer and warmer.

“Will came to me a few days ago,” he whispers one spring day. “Scared outta his mind. But he did it, and he was so brave, and I told him what I could.” He manages a smirk. “And it turns out we’re not too different after all. I’ve been… thinking, recently. And talking to Robin, and man, that was a trip. Turns out the normal, straight amount of flirting with the guys is zero. I don’t think I’m the only one to blame, though, because thinking back on it, Tommy got really close sometimes, before we fell out, and Billy had that whole… thing going on, which I honestly figured was just California bully, but it turns out no, they probably weren’t straight either. Which. That took me a few days to digest. So I’ve been thinking about it and I think I just… never let myself like guys? But I definitely like both. I just always went with girls ‘cause that’s what was expected, y’know? So that was a lot to process. It’s still a lot to process, honestly. But I’m getting there? Or I think I am. I at least had something to tell Will, so. There’s that.” He chuckles. “Y’know you’re the third person I told? Will was second. Robin was first, though she kinda told me, instead of the other way around. Sometimes I dunno what I’d do without her. Most times, actually, I dunno what I’d do without her.”

He thinks about Eddie’s grin, the tilt of his jaw. “Welcome to the club.” He’d probably bow. It feels like something he’d bow about. “We have nothing for you because America is a capitalist pigsty and we are all naught but its pawns.”

Steve leaves.

The weeks pass. He returns faithfully, like clockwork.

“It’s been a year,” he whispers one day. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to make it. You were supposed to run, goddammit, why didn’t you run?” He bends in half as the tears come, burying his face in his knees. “Damn you,” he hisses. “This is all your fault, y’know that? I don’t even know how, but I’m in love with a dead man. Do you hear me, Eddie Munson? A dead man! I shouldn’t be in love with you!” He sobs for a few minutes, then forces himself upright. “And the worst part is I’m not even mad at you. Not really. I just- God, why can’t you be here? Why didn’t you run?”

Footsteps behind him. He stiffens, but doesn’t move until he hears the voice, vaguely amused. “Excuse you,” he says, and Steve whips around to find Eddie Munson staring back at him. “I did run. Or I tried. Those fuckers are fast, man.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers, drying his tears. “Great. Now I’m hallucinating.”

Hallucination-Eddie kneels beside him, wipes tears from Steve’s cheeks. “Could a hallucination touch you?” He whispers.

Steve stares for a minute before the dam breaks and he’s falling into Eddie, sobbing. “I know,” Eddie murmurs. “I know. I’m so sorry. If it’s any consolation, I definitely did die. I just… didn’t stay dead.” He runs a hand over Steve’s back. “And if it’s any consolation, I was able to hear every one-sided conversation. I appreciate the updates on the kids. And, uh.” He swallows. “I’m pretty sure somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, too.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme

[belvedia02]

Día 4: Yes, No, Maybe

Fandom: Wednesday 2022

Relationships: Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair

Words: 998

Resumen: Enid sale de su habitación por unos momentos, encontrándose con Yoko quien le entrega un juego que le ayude a seguir compartiendo con su roomie

_________________________________

Enid subió los escalones con sumo cuidado, no quería derramar la cena que con tanto cuidado había logrado acomodar los platos en la bandeja de metal, sumando el hecho que logró equilibrar la vela en el costado derecho de ese objeto rectangular. 

—¿Tendrás una cena romántica? — Preguntó una voz que salió de la oscuridad, casi desconcentra a Enid y hace que casi de un paso en falso.

—¡Yoko! — Enid se acercó a su mejor amiga que estaba apoyada en el umbral de la puerta de su dormitorio. 

—Me pregunto si al fin tuviste el valor de confesarte—. Yoko le encantaba molestar a Enid con su nueva compañera de habitación en el aspecto amoroso.

—¿De qué estás hablando? — Enid se puso nerviosa y tensó aún más sus brazos.

—¿Fingirás demencia? — Yoko pudo ver esos cambios sutiles en Enid desde hace una semana. Sabía que le gustaba hablar y comentar algunos chismes de los estudiantes de la academia de Nevermore, pero esa entrada en su blog acerca de su nueva roomie, dejaba entrever que el texto nunca fue objetivo.

—Tengo prisa, estoy llevando la cena para Wednesday—. Ignoró la pregunta y siguió caminando. 

—Sabía que tenía razón. Este es tu primer paso para conquistar su corazón, si es que tiene uno— A Yoko le encanta molestar a su amiga y quizás así darle el valor que necesita para aceptar que Addams no es una simple roomie.

—Solo… — Enid suspiró, en estos casos prefiere ignorar a Yoko además que le estaba tomando demasiado tiempo en volver, no quería que su compañera se haya aburrido de esperarla y haya cambiado de opinión y esté durmiendo. 

—Deberías aprovechar el apagón para conocerla mejor—. Yoko lo dijo con un tono sugerente.

—Estuvimos jugando—. Enid se arrepintió de darle esa información a Yoko, fácilmente se podría malentender. 

—Vaya, no perdiste el tiempo— Yoko hizo una breve pausa — Espérame aquí. — Entró a su dormitorio y después de unos minutos volvió a hablar con Enid. 

—Yoko…— Enid solo pensaba que debería haberla ignorado desde el primer momento.  

—Ten, creo que este sería un juego para pasar el rato— Yoko dejó la caja rectangular en el espacio vacío de la bandeja. 

—No es necesario—. Enid reconoció el nombre del juego y no era muy experta. 

—Podrías agregar dificultad—. Yoko enarcó una ceja.

—No, ya perdí dos veces — Enid solo quería volver a su habitación y tener una cena tranquila.  

—¡Así se hace Enid!, supongo que jugaste strip poker y…— Yoko dudaba que Enid sugiriera tal tipo de variante del juego de cartas.

—¡NO! — Enid no quiso negar esa afirmación con un grito y sin esperar otra palabra de Yoko se alejó rápidamente.

—Saludos a Addams— Fue lo último que escuchó Enid antes que Yoko cerrara la puerta. 

Después de esa pequeña e inesperada conversación, Enid logró llegar a su cuarto, ahora solo debía abrir la puerta, sin embargo solo tuvo que empujarla con el pie. ¿La cerré? Se preguntó mientras caminaba hacia el centro de la habitación, dando un breve vistazo a Wednesday que estaba sentada en el suelo junto a Thing manteniendo una conversación que fue terminada cuando ella se acercó. 

—Espero que mi elección de la comida sea de tu agrado— Enid esperó a que Wednesday se levantara del suelo y agarrara su plato. 

—Está dentro de las preparaciones favoritas de carne, solo tendré que agregar algo de cianuro— Enid no sabía si estaba hablando de manera sarcástica o era una forma de nombrar algún ingrediente exótico que ella desconocía. Enid agregó esa información a su lista mental de las preferencias personales de su roomie.

—Todavía no logro descifrar que es esa caja de madera— Wednesday seguía cerca de Enid.

—Eso, puedes ignorarlo, es algo sin importancia— Enid fue en dirección a su escritorio dejó la bandeja en el pequeño espacio que quedaba en el mueble donde estaban algunos de sus lápices. Luego agarró su plato y sin preguntar, se acercó una vez más al centro de la habitación.

Los minutos en que compartieron la cena fueron una breve conversación, mayormente guiada por Enid, quien no deseaba que esos momentos se convirtieran en un silencio incómodo. Sin embargo, Wednesday le prestaba atención y respondía brevemente.

—¿Me dirás lo que hay dentro de esa caja? —Wednesday todavía seguía intrigada por ese objeto.  

—Jenga, es solo un juego de destreza— Enid cambió de opinión y encontró el valor de preguntar. —¿Te gustaría…? — Enid no tuvo la oportunidad de finalizar su pregunta, porque la luz volvió en ese momento.

La vista de ambas compañeras se ajustó con rapidez. Wednesday volvió a apagar las velas, esta vez con solo un soplido. Sin volver a conversar con Enid se alejó de ella para guardar en su baúl aquella fuente de luz. Enid suspiró, aun no quería que volviera la electricidad porque ella quería seguir compartiendo esa noche de penumbra junto a Wednesday, esa atmósfera le daba cierta intimidad.

Espera yo… estúpidos comentarios de Yoko. Pensó Enid. Rápidamente ordenó la bandeja y los platos. Con nerviosismo salió de su habitación sin avisarle a Wednesday. Bajó velozmente las escaleras.

Enid volvió en la mitad del tiempo, sin encontrarse con Yoko. Vio que Wednesday ya estaba acostada y con un libro en sus manos. Ella no la interrumpió y se preparó para dormir. Enid se debatía mentalmente si deseaba saber si su roomie se divirtió esa noche durante el apagón. Finalmente encontró su valentía y le preguntó. 

—Quizás…— Respondió con simpleza después de recordar que inicialmente solo pretendía seguir avanzando con sus escritos. Esa respuesta desanimó a Enid.

Se despidieron y Enid se durmió apenas se acomodó en su cama.

Sí. Wednesday admitió cuando apagó la lámpara de su mesa de noche, dejando una vez más el dormitorio a oscuras. Recordó que inicialmente creyó que sería un fastidio compartir con Enid por tanto tiempo, ella se equivocó completamente, aunque por ahora no reconocería la verdad. 

Olvidé cobrar la apuesta. Fue su último pensamiento antes de encontrar su posición favorita para dormir, sus brazos entrecruzados.

_________________________

Última parte de su "primer acercamiento" como compañeras de cuarto. Gracias por leer

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #16

Prompt: Consulting the Internet/Web MD

Fandom/OCs: Bridget Jones’s Diary (Mark and Bridget)

Words: 940

Sicknario inspo: Sneezing and swearing from this post and “good lord” from this post

Author’s comments/background: Not much to say about this one I think. What you see is what you get. Mark and Bridget will always be loves of mine, and it’s always a treat to write them. 

CW: Mentions of c*ncer, jokingly. Nothing real.

~~~***~~~

"Okay, so it says here that hard lumps in the neck, or swollen lymph nodes, are a side effect of many respiratory illnesses and are especially common in strep throat." Bridget looked away from the computer screen to study Mark. "Do you think you have strep throat? You said your throat was sore."

Mark Darcy, a sick, miserable lump under the blankets, peered at her with a frown. "It is sore, but only from the postnasal drip I think. And strep throat doesn't come with so much sneezing, that much I know. Keep looking, please."

As if in answer to himself, he took a deep inhale before bursting into a thick sneezing fit, his dozenth of the day:

"Hiihhg'KNXXT! IHHXXTT-CHOO! HIHHXXCHOO! Hahht-CHUUHF!!..."

"Gesundheit. Well the only other cause listed here is lymphoma or metastatic cancer, dear, and I'm not about to start consulting the internet about THEM. I really think it's just because you're ill. I think they're pretty normal."

"You see they're not normal for me, though. I've never had them before– GEHHT-CHOO!!... Good Lord…" he gasped, breathy and irritated

He once again swiped at the mess on his face from the increasingly wet sneezes, though it rather seemed to be a losing battle. Bridget blessed him again and made a sympathetic sound. Rising from the computer chair, she went to perch on the edge of the bed, stroking Mark's tangled curls away from his forehead. 

"You'd best keep your distance, darling," he mumbled thickly, gently pushing her hand away. "You're in the hazard zone, and I seem to have no control over my nose presently."

"Well if you haven't noticed, it's my bedspread you're presently sneezing into, so it seems I don't have much choice about being exposed to whatever you've managed to catch. At this point I'll take my chances." Her gentle fingers returned to his forehead and cheeks, then slowly made their way down his neck to the sore lumps that he was so concerned about, right under his jaw. They were soft and moved easily, both signs that, according to the internet, pointed to them being caused by his illness. 

She had only just touched the lumps when Mark twitched, gasped, and sneezed directly onto her:

"KehpttEHTCHHOO! EHHGXXTCHOO!!... Oh God I'm so sorry. It's all over you, isn't it?"

Bridget calmly wiped off her arms, which were indeed covered in spray, squirting a liberal amount of antibacterial hand rub from the bottle she had placed nearby and rubbing it all over her exposed skin. As she worked, she spoke:

"Don't fuss, dear, it's alright. As you said, I was in the hazard zone. There, no harm done."

Mark collapsed back against the pillows with a sound somewhere between 'ugh' and 'ick'. "I feel bloody disgusting," he mumbled. 

"You sound it, too," Bridget agreed. "Poor thing. I wish there was something I could do for you."

"Well there isn't. I simply have to wallow in misery until this passes. And hope I'm not dying of cancer in the process."

Bridget now seated herself on the bed, scooting up against him and placing his head in her lap. "None of that, now. You don't need to be crabby or frightened. You're going to be just fine. I'll make sure of it."

"And just how do you plan to do that?" Mark asked tiredly. 

"Oh coddling you and fussing over you. Manipulating you into submission with sweetness. The classic girlfriend maneuvers."

At last Mark cracked a smile. "I'm eager to see such maneuvers. I'm not sure as I've ever seen them before."

"Well of course you wouldn't remember even if you had. These things are very subtle, you know. The man isn't meant to know he's being manipulated, silly."

She wasn't sure he heard much of what she said, as he suddenly pulled away from her, shifting off her lap to sneeze repeatedly into his arm:

"Gihhh-HESHH'eeeww! Hihh'IHHSH'eeew!! Hhxx'AHKKT-choo! Hggh'nxxgt- CHOOOF!! –Guh! That was… f*cking heh– hehh! HehYEISHHoo! ESSHHuue!!" 

If the first volley of sneezes had frustrated him, and they must have to draw a rare curse word out of him, then having to interrupt said cursing with another sneeze maddened him. 

"You should leave, Bridget," Mark growled as he tended to his nose. "I don't want you or anyone else around until this has cleared up. I'm a danger to everyone in my current state."

"But if I leave, who will be here to look things up on the internet and convince you you're not dying of cancer?" 

Another weak smile from Mark. "Well… no one, I suppose."

"There you are, see? Then it's settled. I simply must stay." She shifted close to him again, brushing the messy hair away from his forehead once more. 

Mark sighed at her touch and sank deeper into the pillows, closing his eyes. She sensed him trying to relax, though any change was imperceptible. Even still, his next words surprised her:

"You're horribly stubborn, you know… but I'm glad you're here. Things are much more bearable when you're with me."

Bridget flushed with pleasure. “Thank you. For saying so. I'm always glad to be with you, even and perhaps especially when you're all needy and pathetic. Though I don't think the same can be said for the bedspread."

Mark sheepishly dropped the corner of the blanket he'd been using to scrub at his nose. 

Bridget laughed. "Never mind, don't worry about it. It's alright." She grasped his hand, kissing the back of it. "And we'll have you well in no time, never fear."

Mark sighed and closed his eyes again. "Thank you, darling. I very much hope you're right."

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #16

"But it was on Halloween, your Honor."

[unbloomingmoonflower]

FFXIVWrite2023 Prompt 16: Jerk

Putting one of my older stories here, because it applies for the noun definition of jerk.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The battle against Ranj’it had been difficult; but Thancred ultimately succeeded, though no worse for wear. 

He’d been waiting for Shuri to return with Ryne, seeing the younger girl’s hair having changed. It appeared she made her choice. 

And he had to make one too. One to make right--to make amends--with the Au Ra who was so furious with him, who now approached him to check the extent of his injuries.

“I’m fine, Shuri,” Thancred muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You received far too many blows to the head to be considered fine, idiot.” Shuri huffed and, with a flick of her wrist, she changed into her mage glamour. Urianger approached, clearly ready to heal Thancred instead, but Shuri gave the astrologian a faint smile and a nod of her head and he backed down. 

If that wasn’t a sign for Thancred to make amends now, then it would never come again. 

“A word in private, Shuri?” he asked, as the Xaela began to tend to Thancred’s wounds. Mismatched irises lifted to his face, brow quirking upward. “About what?” she countered. 

“I think you may know.”

Shuri continued to look at him silently before nodding with an exhaled breath. “All right, Thancred,” she allowed, sheathing her staff. “A word in private, then.”

Getting to his feet with a grunt, Thancred walked away from the group, Shuri following. Alphinaud and Alisaie made a motion to follow, concern clear in their eyes; they knew the history between the two. Shuri glanced back at the twin, waving a hand to them and giving them a soft smile. “It’s fine, you two,” she assured. “Just a word with Thancred.”

She had always been so kind like that. Thancred never could have seen Shuri any differently if he tried. She was always smiling, always gentle and kind. She would put everyone else first before her own wellbeing. It was one of the things Thancred loved about her.

His expression hardened at the thought that flitted through his mind. Thancred realized only too late of Shuri’s adoration for him--and it was when he lost her to another. Estinien treated Shuri far better than he ever could, not shying away from the Xaela’s love for him.

Thancred had said cruel things to Shuri in regards to her relationship with the retired Azure Dragoon. 

Once there was distance between them and the others, Thancred turned to the Xaela. She was still as delicate as when he first met her in Ul’dah, yet there were subtle changes from the numerous battles she had fought. There was a certain weariness about her that he knew that one day, she would hang up her mantle. 

“What did you want to talk about Thancred?” asked Shuri, crossing her arms over her chest, her head canted to the side as she scanned him with those winter eyes. She was pale as the moon and her eyes were the embodiment of winter itself. He could count how many times he’d lost himself in her eyes, even when saying such despicable things. 

“I’m sorry.” The words left him, lacking the usual grace in which he had once dazzled her. He, too, was hardened by battles and loss. “It was not right, for me to lash out at you. To insult you and your relationship with Estinien. I...I had no right to feel envious and to hurt you like that.” 

As he spoke, Shuri listened, her expression slowly softening as her arms lowered from her chest just slightly. “You think I was hurt by that? Angry surely, but not hurt.”

Thancred’s own eyes widened at her words and Shuri took his silence to continue. “You’ve hurt me once, and only once. When I confessed my feelings for you, you distanced yourself from me. You never gave me an answer until someone else healed my broken heart. You say you have no right to be jealous--and you would be correct. We were never anything more than friends and comrades. You made that very clear.”

So that was how the Xaela saw it. After Minfilia gave herself to be the Word of the Mother, when Shuri confessed her feelings in a flurry of grief, Thancred simply kissed her on her forehead and walked away. He did put distance between them, a gap so vast that Shuri gave up and nursed her broken heart. Thancred was in the lifestream in the duration that Shuri and Estinien became close.

And Shuri gazed at Estinien in the same way she once gazed at him.   

“However...you are one of my closest comrades. And as hardheaded as you are...” There was a slight laughter in her voice now, “...well, I am still here. As are you, yes?”

Her words brought a faint smile to Thancred’s lips. Yes, she was right; she had gain far more perception than when he first met her. “Yes. As friends,” he agreed, holding out his hand.

And she took it to seal the past behind them. 

[oswsfandomchallenge]

OSWS finale - can you believe it?! It's time (or almost time) for our favourite sports to start into a new season and it's time for OSWS to go back into hiatus until next year. Out we go with a bang and our last prompt!

prompt #16:

❄️ New beginnings ❄️

Big thanks to everyone who participated. It's been an absolute blast 💜

[sterek-and-stuff-events]

Mead Moons prompt: Revelry

Are fraternity rivals Stiles and Derek one-upping each other with every party they throw, vying for the season’s Most Legendary Rager and falling for each other in the process? Or are they reluctant guests at a mandatory Alpha/Omega jamboree where they bond over drinks and music and how shitty they think the custom is?

Does Fox Stiles persuade the typically reserved Derek to attend a wild shifter event and ends up getting more than he bargained for when the wolf finally cuts loose? Or does Bacchus possess Coach Finstock and the only way to get him to leave is for the all too broody and angst-ridden guys to thoroughly enjoy themselves for once?

Do Stiles and Derek finally get together during an All Pack weekend getaway with no monsters or Hunters or asshole magic trees messing things up and that’s the whole vibe, everyone lives and has a great time? Or do Erica and Lydia have something more intentional in mind when planning a summer celebration sure to get the Alpha to make a move on their resident Spark?

Get in on the fun and create something!

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

[tricksterfiction]

Prompt #16 Jerk

She had covered her face in exasperation.

"Are you jerking me around?"

There was a flailing, fleshy sound being slapped around.

"No! I want you to jerk me-" A heavy, overtly flirtatious tone came from the gentleman.

"Stop, stop. You can't just-" A heavy sigh, "Trick a perfectly respectable lady into your home offering jerky when the first thing you do is... this!"

He finally slowed, the sounds coming to a halt realizing he may have made a mistake.

She looked up at the fully clothed, apron tied hyur holding up a three raw dodo breasts. He had been trying to show Sen his premium meat. She had been lured there to help him make it not to help him eat it!

"Gods, when you think you know what women want." He muttered to himself, slapping the breasts down onto the cutting board and folding his arms.

[weeblewobbles]

[chocoblep]

#16: The Art of Extraction

“Can you pass me that screwdriver?” Lydi asked, her hand sticking out from beneath the lift she and her partner were repairing. When no screwdriver found her waiting hand, she flailed it around a bit, as if maybe her partner were holding it out absently and had missed. “Ari?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” the Elezen man murmured, and the screwdriver found its way to her hand. She closed her fingers around its handle and pulled it under the lift with her.

“Everything all right?” she asked as she removed the lower panel to take a look at the hydraulics.

“I–yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, but he sounded down.

Lydi ticked an ear, popping her head out from under the metal platform. “You’re not fine,” she observed. “Arivel?”

“It’s…” The brunette sighed. “It’s Teran.”

“Again?” She sighed, putting down the screwdriver and the handful of screws on the tray nearby. “What did he do now?”

“He… I found him with someone else. They weren’t… they weren’t in bed or anything, but they might as well have been.” Arivel plucked at something invisible on the sleeve of his uniform, his dark eyes fixed on it like it was a lifeline that he was clinging to.

“Well, did you break up with him?” Lydi asked, coming to sit down next to him. She brought a hand up to rest it between his shoulders, rubbing in a comforting circle.

“I… no.”

“Why not?” she asked, and the man’s face turned away.

“What if…” he began, reaching up to shove his glasses back up his nose. “What if he’s the best I could do? What if he’s the only person who’d be interested in me? I don’t… I know it’s disrespectful, but I’d almost rather be cheated on than be alone.”

Lydjana sighed, scrubbing the back of her gloved hand over one cheek to itch it. “Look, Arivel. You’re cute. Like, really cute. Are you only into guys? Do you like girls too? Because I know some people who would be totally into you. You don’t have to put up with his constant shittiness. You’re unhappy more than you’re happy. Do you really want to live like that?”

“You don’t mean that,” he said, waving a hand at her to go back to work.

“Your confidence is down in your feet because you’re letting him put it there,” she replied, standing. She turned, then, and poked him right in the chest, which made him look up at her in surprise. “You need to kick him to the curb. I can point out all the people around here who have been making eyes at you, and introduce you to some friends of mine that I know are good people. Even if you aren’t attracted to them, they’d be good people to befriend.”

“I–” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “You’re right. He doesn’t… deserve my loyalty or my love. I’m just…”

“That’s right,” she said, and moved back over to duck under the lift again. She looked into its exposed guts, and then jammed her hand in there and snagged her fingers on the culprit for this lift’s jam. She pried it free, and then tossed it at Arivel, who fumbled as he caught it. He snorted, a smile finally breaking over his features, and Lydi grinned in response as she ducked out to test the mechanism. Sure enough, the lift began rising, and then descending, as she controlled it.

“I guess someone really didn’t want the boss calling them,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hope they get a new one,” she commented, and then looked at him purposefully.

“Lydi,” he sighed, exasperated. “You are like a dog with a bone.”

“Don’t fuck with my friends,” she said… and then grinned. “Or do, if I set you up with one.”

“Lydi!”

Laughter answered him as Lydi reattached the panel. “You wanna go give that comm to Kellen? It’s his.”

Arivel stilled, his eyes rounding to nearly match the shape of his adorable glasses, and he stared at her. “How do you know?”

“Because I saw him drop it two bells ago when we were on the lift. At the very least, he’s going to need to turn it in.” She grinned at him when he went white as a sheet, and tossed her head toward the commune, where the new subject of their discussion sat at a table with another engineer, eating a sandwich.

“Why can’t you–”

“I just did this whole-ass job by myself,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and staring him down. Grass-green eyes held sullen browns, until finally the Elezen relented and stood.

“Fine,” he said, and walked off toward the commune.

Lydi watched Arivel’s progress as she stowed the tools she’d used to get Kellen’s comm out of the lift’s innards. As he stepped up to the table, he dropped the mangled comm on its surface next to Kellen, which startled him out of his conversation. The moment the seated Highlander looked up at Arivel, his eyes rounded with surprise. Words were exchanged, and Arivel looked to Lydi with a look on his face that totally said go ahead without me, and then sat down next to the bigger man and started talking in earnest.

It hadn’t been an accident when she’d bumped into Kellen this morning on the lift. It hadn’t been an accident when she’d covertly nudged the comm into the hole in the grate on the lift, either. She’d known Arivel hadn’t been happy for a while with his boyfriend, and maybe–just maybe–forcing him to talk to one of the cute guys that had been eyeing him for the last moon would nudge him toward doing something about it.

She picked up the tool case, strolled off toward the lockers, and caught Kellen’s eye over Arivel’s shoulder, tossing him a wink and a grin that had his lips twitching into a smile of gratitude before he returned his full attention to the Elezen at his side and broke off half of his sandwich and held it out in offering.

Her work here was done.