#seriously thank you so much for sending the prompt it helped a lot!

[monsterrae1]

Request for Buddie with “Why are you praying before you even try a bite of the food I made?” 😄💕💕💕💕💕

Jenwyn! Thank you so much for sending this and helping with this months update of my Cordolia Verse! Here's the fic:

I will hold you in my arms (right where you belong)

Eddie is an excellent baker, he's not the best cook, after almost giving Buck food poisoning one time, Buck decided to teach him how to cook.

Or, the domestic fluff and cooking together fic.

[amomentsescape]

I'd love to see y/n making Halloween treats with the slashers from the prompt list!!!

Slashers Making Halloween Treats with You

October 2023 Halloween Prompt List

A/N: Thank you for this request! My inbox is still open and empty so feel free to send in more requests (with or without the prompts)!

Freddy Krueger

This man literally takes nothing seriously

The moment you step away from the counter, the fun pretzel treats are now wiggling fingers

Your immediate glare silences Freddy's laughs as he finally changes them back

"You're no fun"

Doesn't really help you with the process

Not because he doesn't want to, but because you refuse to let him

He doesn't want to take off his glove and would probably set the place ablaze somehow

So he's left to just watch

But he doesn't mind

He comes up behind you a lot and holds you close, peeking over your shoulder

Steals a few tastes of chocolate here and there

Will also make whatever spatulas or cups you need appear right beside you

Occasionally it's a severed head, but it wouldn't be Freddy without some dumb scares

He might not be much help in the kitchen, but he'll gladly lend a hand in tasting everything

Just don't leave him unintended

He has literally no self control

Michael Myers

Michael may not seem like the type, but he does have a bit of a sweet tooth

Halloween is clearly his favorite time of year, and it wouldn't make much sense for him to not like the occasional sugary treat

So of course, you had to take advantage of this

He doesn't really understand what you're doing (kitchen stuff isn't his thing)

It's honestly kind of cute how he just follows you around like a lost puppy, only doing what you ask of him

He'll hand you whatever supplies you need

Doesn't touch any of the food though

Wants to leave the house a couple of times, but you don't let him

Eventually decides on sitting in a chair and watching you

Will only actually help you if it involves using a knife

He doesn't enjoy doing things he's not good at, but using a blade is something he feels confident with

Honestly, anything that involves the use of a sharp object is something he'd rather do (he thinks you're too clumsy)

Just tell him and he'll do it, and he'll do it well too

You have him taste some of the ingredients along the way

He shows no reaction, but he secretly loves it

Jason Voorhees

Despite everything, Jason is still a bit of a child at heart

He doesn’t really eat, but he’s happy to be there with you (and he makes an exception here and there)

He’s very eager to help you in the kitchen!

All you have to do is ask and he’s there

It reminds him of what he and his mother used to do when he was younger

Would rather build each treat together than do it separately

This takes a lot more time, but he’s happy to spend all night doing it if it’s by your side

Loves when you give him a small kiss or a bump of your hip as you reach around him

Holds each cookie with such gentleness that you’d think it was alive

Gets all pouty if he accidentally makes a mess

But a small smile is all it takes for him to pep up again

Thomas Hewitt

The occasional piece of candy would be handed out during this time of year, but actual baked goods were rare for him

So when you brought up the idea of making some treats, Thomas was almost a bit confused

But any activity with you was quality time in his book, so he agreed

He's not much of a chef since his job is mainly to catch the food, but he tries his best

All the measuring and cooking is solely up to you, but the decorating is something he's eager for

The occasional frosting boop ends up on your nose

And sugar has somehow found its way all over the floor and table

But Thomas's excitement makes up for it all

He's not much of an artist, but they'll all taste the same

Definitely wants to lick out the bowl before you have a chance to wash it

But he's happy to help you clean after everything is done

Bubba Sawyer

This man has the biggest sweet tooth ever

Immediately jumps on the chance to make some Halloween treats with you

He not only likes sweets, but he also enjoys the process of making them

Is a bit too eager to help and ends up just throwing flour and sugar into the bowl before measuring them

Will probably need to give him a lollipop or something to calm him down a bit

Hands you all the ingredients you need

Doesn't know the difference between a 1/2 cup and 1/4 cup though

He ends up eating a good amount of the batter while you were washing your hands

So your full-sized cake was going to need to be resized

You end up settling on making cake pops

Bubba has a lot of fun rolling the dough into little balls and dipping them into the icing

He ends up getting food all over his clothing and has to change before they're done

Brahms Heelshire

It was actually his idea to make some treats in the first place

You were feeling a bit bummed that you couldn't do the normal fall things you used to do since Brahms hates leaving the house

He tried to make up for it by recommending the spooky activity

You were excited and decided to get started that night

Brahms would probably burn down the house if you tried to bake anything, so you settled on some rice krispie treats instead

He stayed by your side the entire time, but wasn't really much help until the mixing part

He jumped at the chance to stick his hand in the marshmallowy mess

However, he also tried everything in his power to eat it before you had even added the food coloring

You basically had to threaten to not sleep in bed with him that night for him to stop

Ends up adding too much food coloring

And still finds a way to eat some of treat when your back was turned

This resulted in the making of just one rice krispie treat

Norman Bates

He loves the idea and wants to make it into a date night

He lights some candles and gets the record player going

Norman isn't one for sugary sweets, but he does enjoy pie during this cooler weather

He also knows his way around the kitchen pretty well so of course he already has the recipe memorized

Wants to make everything from scratch (the filling, the crust, all of it)

Shows you the correct way to knead the dough and will stand behind you to guide your hands

Rewards you with small kisses on the forehead

Once the pies are in the oven, he takes you by the hand and dances a bit to the music while you wait

You both end up cooking an entire dinner to go along with the pies

They honestly came out delicious and the night was absolutely perfect for you two

Billy Loomis

Billy is a decent cook, he just lacks motivation

But he agrees to the idea as long as they can be Ghostface themed (you couldn't expect anything less honestly)

Will do most of the work making the batter and letting you lick the spoon

Gives you kisses in between each task

He leaves the decorating up to you though, since art isn't really his forte

He also doesn't want to get colored icing on his clothes

Of course, you have to have a scary movie playing in the background

Helps you clean up if you ask him to

Holds you to his chest while you try to work, completely distracting you the whole time

Sweet kisses along your neck

The occasional compliment in your ear

He's having a much better time than he had originally thought

Once they're done, you both have trouble waiting and immediately cut into them

The brownies are shared on the couch during your horror movie marathon

Stu Macher

So this isn't the first time you guys tried to make some treats

Cookies, cupcakes, and candies have all been attempted before only to fail

Mostly Stu's fault to be honest

He burnt pretty much everything

So you finally decided to go with the complete opposite

Milkshakes!

He sneaks a few spoonfuls of ice cream before you guys start

Spills milk on the floor and on your shirt a couple times

But the enthusiasm is there

Has a fun Halloween playlist going on in the background as well

His favorite part is rolling the glasses around in the sprinkles

Dumps half the container in his mouth first though and stains his lips black

Tries to kiss you despite your giggling protests

By the time you guys finally finish decorating the shakes, the ice cream has pretty much melted down

But they still taste great

Eric Draven

Anything that feels like normal domestic living is a win in Eric's book

He honestly looks forward to the task all week and even comes home super early that night so you two can spend time together

But of course, he somehow manages to choose the most decoratively challenging treat he possibly could

Lights some candles and leaves the window cracked, letting the cool fall air inside

Hums while he mixes ingredients together, giving you a warm smile whenever he catches your eye

Doesn't even let one drip of batter fall onto the counter

He is somehow that skilled

Wraps his arms around you and sways back and forth while you work

You leave all the bone decorating to him though

Eric is incredibly artistic, and he somehow pulls off everything he tries for the first time

The treats end up coming out just like the picture

You end the night taking turns feeding each other the little treats

[solarmorrigan]

Hi! Could you possibly do 'You don't have to stay.' With Steddie from the angst writing prompt, please? Thank you in advance 😊

Hi! My apologies again for taking two weeks to get to this, but thank you for sending it! This one was fun to write :D

[No warnings; happier ending this time, I promise]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

Eddie feels like an idiot.

He just – he got so wrapped up in everything. In the way Steve has been keeping him company every evening, in the way they have dinner together and play cards together and watch movies together and fucking fall asleep together (Eddie and Wayne’s new place is bigger than their old one, but it’s not like the government sprung for a house with a goddamn guest room or anything). He just forgot that Steve isn’t really meant to be part of his life.

No, Eddie just has Steve on loan.

He is abruptly reminded of this fact one afternoon when he hits Family Video with the intent to pester Steve (and maybe even rent a movie) and instead stumbles right into the tail end of a conversation.

Maryellen Someone-or-Other from the year below Eddie (he’s never really seen the point in remembering names unless they’re a friend or a foe; he figures his brainspace has better uses than the names of people who don’t give a shit about him one way or the other) is leaning over the counter, making eyes at Steve. She’s practically batting her eyelashes and resting her weight in a way that puts the low-scooped neckline of her shirt prominently on display.

“Are you sure?” Maryellen is asking, bottom lip pouting out in a way that is, in Eddie’s opinion, far too obvious.

“Afraid so,” Steve replies with one of his softer smiles, like he might actually be sorry. “I already have plans tonight.”

And – plans? What plans? Eddie thought Steve would be coming over to his house tonight, like pretty much every night.

But then Steve’s eyes flick up from Maryellen and catch Eddie standing stupidly in front of the doors, and his smile widens a little, becomes something happier, sillier, and – oh. Eddie’s house is the plan. Right.

“Well,” Maryellen sighs, high and put-upon, pulling Steve’s attention back to her, “maybe next time.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve nods. “Yeah, maybe.”

Maryellen glances Steve up and down one more time—and, seriously, obvious much?—before she straightens up and sashays past Eddie and out of the store. She doesn’t even seem to have a video with her. Had she come in just to ask Steve out?

And Steve had turned her down?

It’s not like Eddie is interested in what she’s selling, but he has eyes – Maryellen Whatserface isn’t the sort of date you just turn down. Not when she’s flirting and flashing her cleavage at you over the counter of your workplace. And she especially isn’t the type of date Steve Harrington turns down, certainly not to spend an evening sitting around in Eddie’s room doing a whole lot of nothing.

Of course, that’s not how Eddie sees it – not really. They’re not doing nothing if they’re talking, if they’re sharing stories or thoughts or even just dumb jokes. Not if they’re sitting quietly together because sometimes you can only be that type of quiet with someone who gets you. Not if Eddie is strumming random notes on his guitar and Steve is humming along, almost absently, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

It isn’t nothing to Eddie, but to Steve – well, now that Eddie thinks about it, Steve is probably just putting his life on hold so he can be a good friend to Eddie in the aftermath of all the Upside Down fuckery.

Which is very kind of him, obviously (which is apparently just the sort of person Steve actually is; sure, he complains a whole hell of a lot, but Eddie doubts if there’s a single damn thing Steve won’t do if he thinks he can help someone really in trouble), but Eddie doesn’t need him to do that. He doesn’t need any kind of pity friendship. He doesn’t need Steve to put all his shit on hold just to take care of him, only to end up resenting him because he can’t go anywhere or do anything because he’s too busy being the goddamn babysitter.

Eddie doesn’t need that.

“Hey.” Steve is the one leaning the counter now (and he doesn’t exactly have Maryellen’s assets, but damn if the position doesn’t make his shirt stretch appealingly over his chest, anyway) and making eyes at Eddie, except they’re sort of confused-and-concerned eyes, which makes sense, since Eddie still hasn’t moved out of the damn doorway. “You okay?”

“Just fine,” Eddie says, snapping back into motion. “I’m here to pick a movie for tonight.”

“Y’know, I work at the video store,” Steve says, arching one heavy brow. “I’m here right now, even. You could just let me pick something to bring home.”

Eddie almost twitches at the casual slip of the tongue – home. Like Steve doesn’t have other places to be, a better house to actually go home to.

“I could,” Eddie drawls, “but I have it on good authority—my own, in fact—that your taste in films is not to be trusted.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Just because you can’t appreciate Sly or a good underdog story–”

“Two hours of dudes punching each other, Steve.”

“That’s not all the movie was, and you know it!”

“Two hours!”

And just like that, they fall into their usual banter, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie can’t quite let go of what he’s been reminded of.

It follows him back home (to his home) with the movie in his hand (a decidedly non-sports-related movie) and dogs his thoughts and winds him up, and by the time Steve has gotten off work and is leaving his shoes politely by the door, Eddie is – well, he’s a little on edge.

A bit twitchy.

Maybe more than a bit.

Maybe he might be watching Steve, looking for signs that he doesn’t want to be there, that he has better places to be, that Steve regrets turning down Maryellen (if that even was her name? Now that Eddie thinks about it, it might have been Marie. Hard to say).

Maybe he watches Steve carefully as they make dinner, and as they eat, and as Steve heckles his movie choice just for the hell of it, and maybe he jumps on it a little too hard when, as the evening gets later, Steve glances at the clock and sighs.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Eddie says, shooting for perfectly casual.

Steve, who had been partway through rubbing tiredly at his eyes (probably about time to get those contacts out; he always forgets, and Eddie is always reminding him), pauses and pulls his hand away from his face to look blearily at Eddie. “What?”

“Just, if you have other places to be, y’know?” Eddie shrugs. “You don’t have to stay.”

Steve blinks. “What other places would I be right now?”

Eddie shrugs. He’s very casual about this and not worked up at all, as evidenced by all the easy shrugging he’s doing. “Oh, I don’t know. With Maryellen, maybe? She seemed pretty interested in taking you out tonight.”

A confused sort of look is working its way onto Steve’s face, like he has no idea what the hell Eddie is talking about, like he hadn’t just turned down a date earlier today. “Do you mean Madeline?” Shit, right, that was it. “Why would I want to be with her? Dude, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know, Steve!” Eddie snaps, tossing his arms up in hopes that it’ll get some of his nervous energy out. “I just know that you’ve been here babysitting me almost every night for weeks–”

“I’m not babysitting, what are you–”

“And I figure that maybe there’s other shit you’d rather be doing! Places to be, things to do, people to fuck, whatever.”

And– Oops.

Eddie hadn’t quite meant to let all that out. And now Steve looks offended.

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” Steve asks, sitting up from where he’d been slouching on Eddie’s bed. “Did I do something to make you think I don’t wanna be here, or what?”

“I – well – do you want to be here?” Eddie splutters. “You’re a popular guy, and you’re turning down dates to sit around in my room all night? Doesn’t check out, man!”

Unnervingly, Steve doesn’t immediately snap back. He just stares at Eddie for a long moment.

“So, what? You think I’d rather be at some high school party? Drunk off my ass? Making out with some girl who doesn’t know me or give a shit about me?” Steve finally asks, voice low and heavy. “What the hell have I done since you’ve actually gotten to know me that made you think I still want all that shit?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t exactly have a specific defense.

Steve scoffs. “Did you ever think that I just want to spend time with you? That I like being here, that I like you? But fine, whatever.” He slides off the bed and stands up. “You want me to fuck off so badly, I’ll go.”

And with that, he stalks out of Eddie’s room.

Eddie is so busy reeling with the “I like you” of it all that it isn’t until he hears Steve shuffling with his shoes by the door that he manages to snap into action.

“Steve!” he calls down the hall, running full tilt for the entryway, because he doesn’t know much, but he knows he needs to stop Steve before he leaves, before some kind of irreparable damage is done.

Steve doesn’t pause, reaching for the door and pulling it open, and what Eddie means to do is step past him, put a hand on the door, keep Steve there just a little longer so they can talk.

What actually happens is that Eddie’s momentum carries him flying right past Steve, into the door, yanking the knob from Steve’s hand and slamming the whole thing shut.

“Eddie, what the fuck!” Steve exclaims, (rightfully) startled.

“I don’t actually want you to fuck off, okay?” Eddie insists, because he is a god of eloquence when under unexpected pressure. “I want… I really want the opposite of that, actually.”

Steve shoots him a disbelieving look. “So you were being a dick because you want me to stay,” he says flatly.

“Nooot exactly,” Eddie draws the words out, reaching up and twisting his fingers in his hair while he tries to think. “I was being a dick because I want you to stay but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to.”

Steve continues to stare at him. “Eddie, that makes no goddamn sense.”

“I didn’t say it did! I think we know each other well enough for you to know by now that I am barely in charge of my brain, Steve!” Eddie huffs. “I just – I don’t get why you would want to hang around here when you probably have better options.”

“No, see, that’s the part that doesn’t make sense,” Steve says, his voice going a little softer. “You thinking I wouldn’t want to stay, or that there’s anywhere better for me to be. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. I just… want to be here with you.”

“You…” Eddie looks over at Steve, really looks, and catches the anxiety sitting in his expression, and the hopeful spark in his wide eyes, and realizes that he’s absolutely had the wrong end of the stick. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a shrug that’s just about as casual as Eddie has been all night.

“Well then.” Eddie reaches up and slides the deadbolt back into place before giving the door a little pat; its services will no longer be required. Then, before he can think better of it, he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together and giving him a little tug back towards the hall. “Come on.”

“And where are you taking me, exactly?” Steve asks, amused and something a bit like relieved.

Eddie continues pulling him down the hall, heading for his room, and tosses a grin over his shoulder. “I am taking you exactly to where we both want to be.”

And if the way Steve crowds him over the threshold and into his bedroom is to be trusted, they are perfectly on the same page.

[moonsaver]

Hi! It’s @pix3lplays! (On anon because I have another account and I can’t switch which account I’m asking from haha)

I wanted to say thanks for being so nice when I responded to your comment on one of my posts~I really appreciated what you said hehe, definitely made me feel bit more confident and inspired me to keep writing :)

So I thought I’d throw an ask out since requests are open~

If you’re not interested no problem but I’ve thought about it a little and I thought maybe you’d have some thoughts.

Yandere!Sunday when his darling somehow gets seriously hurt, how do you think he’d feel, what would he do?

Personally I think he’s a complete control freak already when it comes to reader, so it just gets WORSE…ANYWAYS I wanna hear YOUR thoughts if you’re interested in the prompt hehe~ also if you’ve already talked about this oops I must’ve missed it, sorry in advance-

But yeah thanks so much, it was really cool to talk to you, take care of yourself, please!!

Hello Pixel! Thank you for sending in this ask, you're very sweet haha <3 i like your writing and im glad i helped you become more confident in it. Also,same issue here, i cant send asks from this account specifically, so i use anon or just use my personal blog to send asks.

Anyways, onto the request,

Ooh, my Yan!Sunday brain is ticking.. he really is an absolute control freak, and is a bit of a mess when he sees you seriously injured. A miscalculation, ignorance, negligence, or perhaps just.. an oversight from his part? Whatever the reason is, he's in high-drive now, and absolutely stressed about it. He only has a worried and distant look on his face, and at this stage he's prone to easily snapping at anyone, but his mind would be on a completely different level of stress. How dare they? How dare anyone lay a filthy inch of a finger on you? To stain you with their sins, and to breach your skin in such a grotesque manner.. he's absolutely enraged.

He insists on tending to you himself personally, unless it's so serious paramedics have to be involved. Stays by your side until he cant, sitting on the egde of the bed, body turned halfway to face you, fingers ghosting the edge of your face with tenderness.

However, this tenderness is only limited to your recovery period.

After you wake up or recover a bit, practically any freedom you would have had is gone. Completely.

Scolds you, borderline yells at you, holds you still with a deathly tight grip on your arms, forcing you to look into his eyes. This happened because you left. This happened because you were out of his watch. This all happened because of your freedom. Don't you dare even bother mentioning going out anywhere. You will be surveillanced almost all the time. He spends a suffocating amount of time next to you, harshly spitting back whenever you try to protest or reason with him. His words aren't gentle at all, and you're getting on his nerves. Perhaps he should just look over you himself, force you into a borderline coma in the dream fluid, and deal swiftly with the perpetrators.

Robin catches wind of this at some point.. she tells you that he's just worried, and there's a lot of people that don't quite hold The Family in high regards. Just.. its okay. Let him do this.

Let him pick out your clothes, brush your hair, check your healing wounds, gently ebb the water over them as you bathe, and kiss the skin of your shoulder when both of you stay silent after another argument.

If you still continue arguing.. he doesn't have a choice. He slumps a bit, a hand coming up to massage his temple as he sighs, and tells you in a softer voice that he's terrified. The worst thing that could happen did happen. He almost lost you. Can't you just go with it and let him be assured? You're dragging it out much more than it needs to be. He's spent many sleepless nights, ideas of dreamscapes turning into nightmares as the image of your hurt face flashes in his mind. Just cooperate, for Aeons' sake.

And no one speaks after that. He emotionally blackmails and manipulates you as a sort of final resort. Surely, you'd understand. It's not like it's far from the truth anyway. He is scared. But more than that, he's enraged this happened in the first place.

Adding on more to it,

Once things calm down.. in a twisted sort of way, he realizes just how perfectly he can get you under his complete control from these events. He may even not so subtly orchestrate similar events to scare you, to keep you in check, forcing you to rely on him completely, as he swoops in at the right time, acting as some kind of a "savior". Its a sick mindset, and he's not ashamed of it. Oh dear, you were just so pleasantly compliant after that event. And it just solidifies his statement that you shouldn't be going outside anymore, or be constantly accompanied by the Bloodhound Family guards, after only a few incidents of various threat levels.

In the end, it's a cycle that repeats up until you finally give in and let him take any and all freedom you have. He sets down your hairbrush with a gentle 'clack', kisses the crown of your head, and tells you it's alright. He will take such good care of you. Just listen to him. Listen to his every word. He has your best intentions in mind. Don't think about anything, anyone. You're a smart girl, surely you understand?

[ganseybois]

tommy (at this point already casually dating buck) hanging out with eddie and calling him out on his feelings

alternatively eddie last minute helping maddie before the wedding and maddie calling him out on his feelings

or both

both? both. both is good :D i hope you enjoy it, it got a little long haha! if you want to send me a buddie prompt, click here!

Tommy is the first one to bring it up.

They're finishing up on the basketball court, and everyone has filed out by this point, leaving the two of them alone. Tommy is driving Eddie back anyhow, and today was an intense game, so they're taking their time.

Why Tommy chooses to bring it up before the car ride, Eddie doesn't know. But what a way to make it awkward.

"Hey, man I need to tell you something," he says as they return to the car. "So you're not blindsighted when it happens."

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks, clearly concerned.

"Well, not really." he lets out a tired laugh. "Uh...I'm going to be breaking up with Evan. I wanted to tell you so that, you know, you could do what you do and be there for him."

Shocked, Eddie steps in front of Tommy, "Wait, what? I thought things were going great with the two of you." he feels his gut twist uncomfortably - the last thing Eddie wants in the whole world is to see Buck hurt again. "Tommy, come on, Buck is great. He's amazing. There's not a thing about him to not like."

Tommy scoffs, "Believe me, Eddie, I know that."

"So then what's wrong?"

"Eddie, seriously?" Tommy rolls his eyes. "I can't keep dating him and ignore...whatever it is you two have going on. I like Buck, a lot, I do but, there is clearly something between the two of you."

Eddie lets out a small laugh of disbelief. "Tommy," he says, grinning, trying to find his footing in this conversation. The rug has been swept out from under him. Him? And Buck? No way. "He's my best friend. That's all."

"You know Eddie," Tommy rolls his eyes, walking past him now. "I know everyone is a bit of an idiot with love, but you're acting obtuse purposely."

Eddie turns around and follows, "Hey," he snaps. "I'm sorry if we're too close for you to handle, but I'm not going to apologize for being his best friend."

"I don't want you to Eddie, really, I don't. But you should both take your head out of your asses so that you can stop hurting other people." 

That stops Eddie from making a retort. 

Tommy picks up his pace as he walks over to unlock his door, as though he can escape Eddie and erase the fact that he is also driving Eddie home. That they are going to have to share a space for twenty minutes before Eddie can leave and be alone, and send Tommy on his way to break his best friend’s heart. 

Does Eddie love Buck? 

Of course. 

Buck is his best friend. Why wouldn’t he love him? How could he not? Buck is beautiful, and kind, takes care of his son, and has been there for Eddie since the day that they met. Buck is honest and hopeful, Buck is tender and funny, he is knowledgeable and earnest. He’s the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Eddie knows all this, and of course he loves him for it. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s in love with him…does it?

***

“Thank you so much for helping me Eddie,” Maddie sighs as they walk into her house, Eddie with boxes stacked in his arms. He doesn’t even know what’s inside them - Maddie needed help, so he agreed. 

“Sure thing,” he kicks the door shut and follows her to the kitchen, gently laying the boxes on the table. “Here’s okay?”

“Perfect,” she rubs his back. “Want some coffee? You’re welcome to stay for a while.”

“Coffee sounds great, thanks,” Eddie nods, watching her move around her kitchen. He feels a little awkward–he likes Maddie just fine, but really, he hasn’t spent too much time with her, so he isn’t sure where to strike conversation. They already spent an hour talking about kids in his truck, he feels like he’s used Christopher enough. 

“So,” she says, tone careful and light, prepping mugs. “Did Buck tell you about Tommy?” 

“Yeah, he did.” Eddie murmurs, Tommy and Buck broke up three days ago. Eddie listened to Buck tell the story, and hugged him tight. He gave him beer, ordered him food, and let Buck stay over for the night so he wouldn’t have to be alone. 

At least you’re always going to be here, Eddie, right?

Nowhere else I’d rather be, Buck. 

Eddie broke up with Marisol a day later. He has tried not to think too hard about why that is but…he has spent the last three days thinking about what Tommy has said. 

Eddie clears his throat. “It sucks, I thought this would work out for Buck for sure.”

Maddie sighs sadly, starting to prepare the coffee for them, before she turns around and gazes at him fondly. “I already knew it wouldn’t.” When Eddie just continues to look at her, she rolls her eyes and smiles. “Eddie, come on.”

“What?” he asks. 

“Seriously? You’re going to make me spell it out for you?”

He feels his heart skip a beat, understanding dawning on him. “Maddie,” he shakes his head with a small laugh, although what he wants is to run in the other fucking direction. “Listen-”

“All I do is listen, Eddie. I listen to my brother talk about you like you hung the sun in the sky. I listen to him complain when he can’t see you and Chris. I listen to him talk about everything you do for him, everything you say to him.”

“He’s my best friend,” Eddie says, feeling cornered. 

“I know that I really do. And maybe I’m wrong, maybe I don’t know you as well as I think I do but…I know my brother. It could have never worked with Tommy, because he was too busy being in love with you.”

“Maddie-”

“Hey, maybe I’m wrong,” she says, pouring their coffee. Why do these things never happen when he’s about to leave? “But look into his eyes Eddie, and you’ll see it. Promise me.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do. 

A little part of him admits that he’s afraid to look. Afraid of what he’ll find. 

“Maddie,” he says softly. “He’s my best friend.”

“Eddie.” she sighs. “You look at Buck the way I look at Chimney. The way Karen looks at Hen. The way Bobby looks at Athena. This is so far beyond what you think it is. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I promise.”

***

Eddie thinks about it all the way to Buck’s house. 

He thinks about his life, about what makes sense, about his son, and what makes sense in his son’s life. He thinks about the obvious - is he happier when Buck is around? Yes. Did he like Marisol? Not really. Was that because of Buck? He doesn’t know. 

Does he miss Buck when he’s not there? Yes. 

Does he think Buck makes him a better person? Yes. 

Does he love Buck? Yes. 

Yes. 

Yes. 

He makes it to Buck’s apartment and knocks on the door. It opens a moment later. 

Look into his eyes, Eddie. 

Eddie looks. 

Buck smiles, bright as a thousand suns. Just because Eddie thought to come over, to just spend time with him. 

Buck’s eyes sparkle – there is love there, warmth, undying devotion.  

Eddie, finally, can see.  

“Can I come in?” Eddie asks. 

Buck steps aside, and Eddie takes the first step into the rest of his life.

[chaotic-iguana]

Javi p x reader where ummm uhhh he is gone for long trip (post Columbia, where they’re on the ranch and his new job occasionally has to travel) and reader wears his clothes bc they miss him/clothes smell like him and javi comes home early to reader in his clothes and he’s like oh my goddd ur sooo cute and he just scoops reader up and idk it is cute

yes. this is the prompt. thank you anon sending you forehead kisses for life.

Away

Summary: Javier’s gone on a trip, and you just can’t help but miss him. lots of fluff. im a SLAVE for soft javi negl.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Pairing: Javier Peña x female! reader

Warnings: just a lot of domestic fluff and a little angst. some kissing and slightly suggestive language towards the end. also a little bit of swearing too. let me know if this works, anon!

masterlist. ao3.

part 2

————————————————————————

Even the coffee didn’t taste the same when he wasn’t here. Laredo had been perfect, a much required (and welcome) change in pace after Colombia. You’d met Javi working as an assistant of the Ambassador, practically detesting him at first. 

He’d sauntered into your office, batted his lashes at you (no, seriously), complimented your nails, and just oh-so-casually asked you to get him some paperwork he had absolutely no business looking at. So you’d just clicked your pretty nails (his words) in his face and told him to get the fuck out and come back when you’ve got your head out of your ass. 

Two weeks later, he’d just shown up again - sheepish, with proper coffee as a bribe this time - and asked for ten minutes with your boss. Impressed by his newly-discovered manners, you’d gotten him twenty minutes with the guy and helped sway him into authorizing a mission the Ambassador normally wouldn’t even have looked at. 

The next morning, there’d been flowers on your desk with a little note scrawled in chickenscratch. Thank you, hermosa. Sorry for being an ass last time. I like the new nails too, maybe you could show them to me up close sometime? You’d exaggeratedly rolled your eyes and thrown the note in the trash, of course, but you couldn’t quite keep the grin off your face that whole week. Nor the week after that, when he took you out, and you did, in fact, give him a fully immersive tactileexperience of that new set of acrylics you’d gotten before the note. 

Soon, the arrangement evolved from just sex to practically living together. You never spoke about it; Javi just had a closet in your home and his toothbrush in your bathroom. You went out for anniversary dinners without calling them anniversary dinners; flowers and coffee kept mysteriously showing up at your desk; and his informants started getting paid more and fucked less. By the time Javi left the DEA for good, you both had spent too many years by each other’s sides to change the routine. So the apartment was packed up, tickets to Laredo were brought, and you’d just followed him down here. 

It was like just breathing Laredo air was enough to change the man. He’d asked you to marry him practically a week after you met Chucho, who had welcomed you with open arms. Obviously, you said yes, and you lived happily ever. Or as close to it as you could get with his work stealing him away most of the time. It made you laugh, the way you were still waiting on him to come back from his trips - but atleast they weren’t to Bogota anymore; your heart stuck in your throat the whole time he was away because what if he didn’t come back? 

No, now that fear had long-faded - and though it flared up at times - a pathetic yearning took its place. Instead of being worried about Javi, you missed him when he was gone, counting down the days like a kid at summer camp waiting to go home. And in a way, you were waiting for your home too. 

You loved Chucho, and Laredo, and your new job and all the comforts life had given you here, but the apartment just felt cold and empty when Javi wasn’t next to you. Waking you up with slow, languid kisses in the morning, laughing when you grumbled and rolled over - only to tickle you awake, instead. That cocky grin he got when he realised you were too short to reach something, coming up behind you to pull it down and immediately kissing your forehead because of course you were struggling and of course you were too stubborn to ask him for help. The tough poker face he put on before making one of those witty quips that made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t stop giggling because it was so ridiculous. 

His laugh, his kisses, his smell and his warmth - you missed all of it so fucking much - but you’d never so much as indicate that to him, of course. It was something you’d promised yourself back when the two of you were just a newly-transferred secretary and a DEA agent who might have happened to be in the same bar a few too many times on weekends; you never wanted to make it harder for him to leave, to make him feel like he had to choose between you and his job. 

Today, you felt his lack of presence a bit more than normal; it was a day off and you had nothing to do. You and Javi would have spent half the day lounging on the couch and watching terrible movies, taking turns to put on quirky voices for scathing commentaries, ordered takeout and gotten into bed. To either sleep like the dead or get no sleep at all, depending on the mood. 

You could go out, but you just didn’t want to meet people right now. You’d had dinner with Chucho a few days ago, which meant you couldn’t just show up at the ranch unannounced and say you’re bored, either. Not that he would mind, but he’d spent the day showing you how to make tamales and that had understandably thrown his work schedule off a bit and you didn’t want to make it worse. 

So you showered and pulled out one of Javi’s sleep shirts and boxers, reveling in their comfort before curling up on the bed. You were flicking through the channels, bored out of your mind, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Cariño? It’s me.” The second his voice came from the other side, you were stumbling across the room to unlock the door and wrench it open. Beaming, you barely got to look at him before he was bursting through, throwing his bag down and he’d just scooped you up into his arms with practiced ease. 

Walking you to the bed, he set you down gently before manoevring you both so that you were in his lap. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, his smile widened. “What’s this, hm?” A teasing tone crept into his voice as you flushed and looked away, biting your lip. You didn’t show affection easily, and you’d never worn any of his shirts before - scared of coming off as too needy, too clingy - even when you were married to the man, for god’s sake. 

Watching you blush, Javi tilted your chin to make you look at him as his lips twisted into a smirk, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your face and giving you reprieve only when you squealed, pushing at his chest while giggling uncontrollably. “Did you miss me, honey?” Your shy nod just made him chuckle, gripping your chin to pull you into a deep, open-mouthed kiss. “You’re fuckin’ adorable, you know that? Walking around wearing my clothes when I’m not around - refusing to admit you missed me when I heard you trip on your way to the door.” The twinkle in his eye is only getting brighter with each word, and you’re struggling to meet his eye by the end of it. You knew he found it amusing - the fact that your usually foul-mouthed, unyielding nature; the woman who hadclicked her nails in his fucking face the first time they’d met - melted away to become all shy and flustered, just for him. 

“Don’t laugh” you huff, burying your face in his neck to avoid meeting his eye because that was honestly just making your blush deeper. He just snickers again, the asshole, before kissing your forehead and mumbling softly. 

“‘Course not, sweetheart. Hated being away, y’know? ‘N then I got home, and you just looked so cute in my shirt dwarfing you that I jus’ couldn’t help myself.” You leaned back, with a teasing grin of your own. 

“Couldn’t help yourself? Sounds like you’ve gotta make up for laughing at your poor wife now, Mr Peña.” You peered up at him through your lashes, watching him catch on with widened eyes before fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and pulling it over his head, hurling it to the floor next to him. 

“Come on then, wife. Let’s make amends, huh?”

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings

[poemsfor-her]

GLOW UP QUIDE 𖹭⠀࣭⠀ֹ⠀͡꒱

I. THE INNER ME

— When you think of the word "glow up" , your mind automatically thinks of changing your appearence, right? For me the beauty is in our soul. If you think nasty and degrading thoughts of yourself that can be damaging in so many ways.

let's get some things clear here:

First of all, beauty standards always change, as trends come and go, and you will never be enough "pretty" for someone; because beauty is subjective and you might be the dream person for someone and for someone not. which is ok! there are so many beautiful flowers. i personally perfer tulips and peonies, but someone might prefer roses or sunflowers. that doesn't make a flower less beautiful because every flower is beautiful in it's own way.

— do you know yourself? we spend so much time trying to know others, but do we even know ourselves? go on pinterest and find some questions to ask yourself. here are some:

1. what qualities do i like about myself?

2. what qualities of others do i admire?

3. what am i scared of?

4. what would i like my mornings to look like?

5. who inspires me?

if someone asks me any of these questions i would answer them all in a second, because i know myself.

— SHADOW WORK. Grab a pen and a journal, go on pinterest and search "shadow work prompts". I Personally, don't know much about this subject, but i know it's talked about by many people i look up to. It helped them heal from trauma.

some videos i suggest you watch that helped me so much in changing my mindset:

why you'll never be pretty enough - zoe unlimited.

you don't need to glow up, our obssesion with glow up culture needs to STOP.

tiktok is DESTROYING YOUR IDENTITY.

what type of pretty you are.

— I suggest watching every commentary video of zoeunlimited. Her videos changed my views on various topics.

II. THERE IS NOTHING TO CHANGE

— you are perfect just the way you are. embrace yourself. there is only one you in this world. many women look the same to me these days and it's a tiring and sad thing. Everyone is following the standard that is going to probably change in a month. As Hwasa said "I am my own beauty standard" and thank you Hwasa for that!

Embrace your features, look for makeup that suits your face shape and eyes. I know that eyeliner doesn't work with my eyes so i don't apply it. I also know that a lot of bronzer doesn't suit me.

Wear whatever you like and don't be afraid to express yourself.

When it comes to exercising, ALWAYS DO IT FOR YOURSELF. Think of it as: "My body deserves to be healthy"

strech when you wake up, do yoga, workout or go for a walk/run. whatever you like!

eat healthy but don't pressure yourself too much. have it balanced. you can eat a healthy meal but that doesn't mean you can't eat a cake. BALANCE IS EVERYTHING.

my favorite fitness youtubers:

lily sabri

yoga with bird

mady morrison

emi wong

III. KNOWLEDGE IS POWER

— if you follow my posts you know how much i respect and talk about education and it's importance. As my favorite saying goes "BEAUTY IS DANGEROUS, BUT INTELLIGENCE IS LETHAL." I stand by this!!!! READ BOOKS, FOCUS ON YOUR STUDYING, WRITE, PAINT, LEARN A NEW LANGUAGE AND DRAW.

here are some book suggestions:

i who have never known men

the great gatsby

the prophet

my body

the art of war

search some famous musicians or artists and get to know their work. i seriously find this so attractive.

watch documentaries.

watch news, read articles and just generally know what is happening in the world.

get to know your country's history.

watch some iconic movies.

beauty fades, but knowledge always stays.

that's it! if you have some questions send me an ask ♡

with love, t

[stevebabey]

RUBY congrats on your milestone!!! I'm extremely happy for you, you deserve it, you always post amazing fics and your blog is SO COOL AND FRESH, ugh I love it!! Sending a lot of kisses and hugs your way ♡

So I'm here to request, I hope it's okay!!

❤️‍🔥 5 and 6 from the first prompt list with steve, I just know you are going to do something sooo fluffy and cute that will mark me forever!!!

HI HI !! thank you so much ur so sweet i am SWOONING over here <3 COOL AND FRESH!!!?? ULTRA TOP TIER COMPLIMENTS MY DUDE!! ahh many kisses and hugs right back at ya ! and omg da first of the blurbs.... it is fluffy as hell im feeling clingy tonite and i hope u luv <3 (ur lucky to get in early they probably won't all be this long hehe)

You're surprised you even managed to convince Steve to come to this party. They're not exactly his scene anymore, especially considering his history with them, but it was a bit more of a familiar friendly crowd — Eddie's band, some of Robin's own friends from band, plus the merry bunch of you that were practically fused together since '83.

Besides, you're sure the fair amount of eyelashes fluttering helped too, lips pouting and eyes sweet.

Steve had even narrowed his eyes, jabbed a finger at you like he was about to say 'that's not fair!' like he had a thousand times before. Some whine about how he was powerless when you gave him those eyes.

Tonight, he had just sighed and folded, any annoyance melting away at your glee.

Parties were better with Steve. If you both had a ride home, he'd get himself into the G&T's until he was loopy and draping himself all over you. Absolute mumbler he was while drunk. It was all you're so pretty and how'd i get so lucky? between wet kisses anywhere he could land them. You not-so-secretly loved it.

Tonight, however, you're the lovesick one.

Like it's your fault; he's wearing one of his button downs that's tight on the arms and a few buttons too low. A hint of chest hair peeks out, flush against tan skin that's riddled with moles you've kissed a dozen times over each. Even without the extra beers tonight you think you'd be in a mood.

The extra alcohol just gives you confidence.

Steve's talking when you approach, his back to you, and you take no mind to distract him from his conversation. Silently, well as much you can while tipsy, you sneak your arms around his middle and slump.

You hear a rumble of surprise through where your head presses into his back, a pause in the conversation, then he places his warm hands over both of yours. You delight with a grin. Then, keeping his hands in place to keep you where you are, he's twisting to look over his shoulder. You dig your chin in to meet his eyes with a doozy smile.

"Hello trouble," He says, all too fond. God, he looks so sweet, amber eyes all sweet and smile all too mischievous. Thank God he's yours.

"Hi." You say back, a grin curling at your lips. You think about tucking your hands under his shirt, just to hold him closer. You're sure he'll get the mental messages you're sending him much better if there's skin-to-skin contact —though, you needn't worry, Steve can tell you love him just from the look on your face.

"All good back there?" He asks, mainly as a joke but you nod very seriously and then tilt your head towards his conversation partner. Some dude who had graduated the year after him, friends with Robin he thinks. It's small talk.

"Yup." You smile wide, a bit dopey, and press a kiss into his back. "Y'keep talking Stevie."

He can tell you mean it so he does, turning back around and adjusting his grip over both of your hands to hold them both tighter. You hum happily. The conversation resumes. It takes all but a minute for your attention to crawl away.

You shift your hands slightly, wriggling out of Steve's grip and you miss how he frowns down bemusedly at your wandering hands. He silently hopes you aren't heading for his pants, mainly because there's a spectator to your strange but endearing behaviour. You don't, instead just tucking them under his button up and pressing your icy fingers against his tummy.

Steve snorts a quiet laugh and tries not to shiver, but apparently, that's too much movement for you.

"Tch, stop moving!" Your voice draws out, dipped in annoyance. You thump your head against his back and Steve laughs again, a bit pink in the face when the dude moves away with an awkward goodbye. Steve doesn't blame him, with your roaming hands, though he's fairly sure you're actually just looking for a cuddle.

Steve stills himself. "Why—"

"You feel amazing in my arms," you say, muffled by your face in his shirt. You squeeze him a bit tighter, a hug that actually squeezes his heart too because fuck, if he doesn't feel adored right now.

"Baby," He starts, prying your arms off just enough to turn and face you. You whine a bit but it dies down at being able to lean your head against his chest, chin planting between his pecs. You gaze up at him and blow a half-hearted raspberry. Steve thinks about dipping you sweet and kissing you there, just to see if you'll get warm enough in the face that he'll feel it too.

"D'you wanna go home?" He asks.

You shake your head but tighten your hold. Steve sweeps a hand across your forehead, pushing back stray hairs with a loving hum. "If we go home, we can cuddle, yeah?"

You seem to only just realise this as he says it and it sways your decision in an instant. "Okay, yeah, yes please," you murmur as you bury your face back into his chest. Your please sounds like peas and Steve thinks his heart might ache a little softer because of it.

If you had told sophomore Steve that in the future, he'd be ditching a party early, just for some cuddles, he's sure he would've scoffed at himself. Steve thanks the heavens above for change and let you drag him out the door, footsteps giddy and kisses abundant.

join the celebration!

[silkjade]

hii!! just coming over from reading your genshin men as wedding dates pt 1&2 and OHMYGOD THAT WAS AMAZING😍i haven’t been this hooked on a fanfic in years🤩🤩🤩🤩please keep writing more amazing things like these🥰

oh and if you’re taking requests - genshin men (as many or as few as you want, i leave the character limit upto you) + pov: you like to leave little sticky note messages on the fridge for bae when he wakes up bc you need to leave super early for work, but one day you forget and….

💜much love to you and def hit the follow button so i can see more of your work!! if you have a tagslist please include me!💜

Aw thank you so much! I don’t have a taglist atm but I’ll be sure to add you if I ever make one in the future! And ty for sending in a request, this is such a cute, wholesome prompt 🫶

genshin men when you forget to leave a daily message

Featuring— diluc, childe, zhongli

gn!reader, modern au, established relationships

DILUC

as a big ceo, your boyfriend diluc travels a lot. it’s just unfortunate that the one morning he gets to sleep in, you had to go into work extra early

he might not always be home for your sticky note messages, but he sure loves reading them when he is. so needless to say he’s a little disappointed since your fun little messages always leave a small smile on his face

so he decides to do the same for you as a little surprise when you get home

except he leaves little notes everywhere

just to name a few…. on the tray where you leave your keys: ‘welcome home! i’ve missed you’ ; on your vanity mirror: ‘you are so beautiful’ ; on the refrigerator: ‘let’s go out for dinner tonight?’

his messages aren’t as fun or witty as yours but it’s the thought that counts and wait… on the shoe rack: ‘you’ve been running through my mind all day’

ok fine he asked kaeya for help on that last one; he swore it’d make you laugh (it did!)

CHILDE

he loves loves loves the little messages you write to him each morning; they're like his little daily motivators from you! and since you always stick it on the fridge, he just ends up taking it with him for the day as a good luck charm

so…he’s got a theory now because the one day you forget to leave a note for him…boom. worst day ever

nothing is going right. his luck could not get any worse today. like did scaramouche seriously just quit? and now he has to finish both their work by the end of the day? ugh that’s just as frustrating as the embarrassingly huge coffee stain on his shirt

at least in this case, causation does equal correlation

he’s super pouty and whiny and clingy when he gets home. basically tackles you, hugging you from behind while he’s soaking wet because of course it started randomly raining on his way home

“you’re my good luck charm y/n” and then proceeds to explain to you all of ajax’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

now you owe him lots of kisses and cuddles and two sticky note messages tomorrow (his terms)

ZHONGLI

he’s emotionally mature, he totally understands

but what he DOES worry about is whether in your rush to get to work, did you eat breakfast? did you forget anything? did you bring lunch?

luckily for you his only consultation appointment today isn’t until the afternoon so he is definitely preparing you lunch. and when he’s got the time…boy can this man cook (it’s canon hoyoverse told me themselves)

he knows your schedule like the back of his hand. the front desk calls right before your break to let you know someone’s here for you and surprise it’s zhongli dropping off homemade lunch

give him a big kiss on the cheek and he’ll be all ☺️

you open the pack and on top of your lunchbox is a sticky note: ‘Hope you’re egg-cited for lunch today, I made your favorite. See you at home, darling : )’

[rubyfoxfyre]

What did you base Alastors Nox Magia off of? Why type of magic is it and where did you get the ideas for a good ass fanfic?

Thank you for the question!

The answer is sort of a long story that I suppose begins with my first exposure to Hazbin Hotel in general, during a particularly doomed D&D campaign where my character basically acted exactly like Charlie did in the pilot:

Granted, Fianna is not anything like Charlie at all, but the DM found it funny enough to send me the gif above and then everyone got distracted for about 5 minutes while they started meming.

The next day I watched the show and was completely hooked!

I started looking into the Wiki to get a greater understanding of the world shown, read the comics (like all 20 pages hahaha), and listened to Addict while working on prompts for Charlastor Week 2022, taking a break from my regular manuscript I'd been working on for a few years (stay tuned for updates soon on that one!). I had about a month so I decided to try my hand at smaller short stories, since some of the authors I idolize are so good at short fiction, and conveying strong emotions in just a few thousand words.

I watched and rewatched the Pilot, studying the characterizations there as well as thinking about funny and unexpected scenarios the characters could get into while dealing with the concept of redemption and how to make it work (needless to say that the fact that they already had it happen was... unexpected. I have thoughts on that but will put a pin in that for now to avoid getting too distracted from your question!).

I can't remember which rewatch it was that I picked up on an interesting exchange between Charlie and Alastor that turned into a whole mess that would consume me to this day:

She tries to put a limitation on his ability to do too much, and I wondered if that could lead to a sort of interesting power-play between them (because in the end this is the part of their relationship that is fundamentally interesting - they're both powerful people with opposing moralities, having to work together to acheive a common goal). Basically, because Charlie's not precise with her language, she ends up basically not controlling Alastor at all. Which works out in its way, because she hides from her deeper wellspring of power with the aid of a gentle persona.

I liked the idea of something deeper between them and within themselves - and with them being opposing forces, I wanted to work with the idea of Alastor being associated with "night" and "dark", versus Charlie being associated with "sunlight" and "rainbows".

Shadow and Flame, only a bit less Lord of the Rings and a bit more sexy.

Nox Magia , the "night" magic, follows basic arcane principles that I've picked up on through the long and involved process of being a massive nerd and reading a lot of stuff.

For writing magic, I like looking at basic logic structures and hovering somewhere between harder and softer magic. My other manuscript that is premiering this year will be discussing some differing types of magic systems as well, if you enjoy reading Riddle and my other works, I hope you enjoy those as well!

But as for the story itself, it wasn't meant to be a story about a man falling in love... it's the story of a man being dragged into love, kicking and screaming about it. 🦌🌈

To Alastor the Hotel is about control, and his experience there is just a game not to be taken too seriously. Charlie is also about control, or rather, trying to find a way to control without breaking everything with her terrible strength.

Alastor embraces his strength, while she hides from it, and he finds that contradictory instinct in her interesting, so he comes up with the idea of a game to teach her some magic that might help her. But as with all magic, intent governs everything (even when you don't realize), and the spells he's teaching are telling a particular kind of story - you can preview what's happening in the chapter titles that have the runes' names! 🍷

❤️ Thanks so much for reading! ❤️

[mothdruid]

oh my god abby! happy early birthday!!! 🥳🎂🎉🎊🎁🎈for your prompt party - bradley (ofc 💁🏼‍♀️) with:

“hey - in case no-one else’s said it, you’ve been doing some really great work lately. i really apprec- i mean, all of us really appreciate it.” (tbh all of these coworker prompts were so so cute i could pick 10 of them)

I love this request!!! coworker bradley is one of my favorite things! I hope you enjoy it!!

Soreness was aching through your upper back and shoulders. Your eyes were starting to become sore too. You rolled your shoulders back, stretching out your shoulders and neck. After that you slipped your glasses off and tossed them onto your desk. Haphazardly you looked at your computer screen, the warm light obscuring the tone.

The past few weeks at work had you working like a mad man. Late nights, skipped meals, and way too much coffee. It probably was terrible for the caffeine addiction you were already trying to work on. All of it was probably worse for your workaholic nature. But there were deadlines and you were really trying to get the next promotion that came up.

Was it all worth it though? Even though you had sworn that you wouldn't give your entire self over to this job, but here you were, giving yourself over to it. Well, you hadn't done so until you heard a small bird talk about how they are going to make a marketing manager position in two spots. Since then you were working way too much.

You rested your elbows on your desk, arching your back forward then backwards. The little cat cow stretch was something of a friend lately, helping to ease your back pain a little bit. As you were stretching your back forward a small knock could be heard. You sat back up and turned around in your chair. Soft hazel eyes were looking at you through a pair of lenses.

"Hey, Bradley," you smiled at him.

God, he looked perfect as always. Brown hair tousled perfectly and sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms perfectly. Those gorgeous forearms that you had dreamed about regularly since starting your job. It made it hard to work with him, which was even worse to him technically being your superior.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked as he took a step further into your work space.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Eyes are just getting a little tired," you explained to him.

"Hate when that happens," Bradley offered a soft smile for reassurance, "but I just wanted to stop by for a minute."

"What's up?"

“In case no-one else’s said it, you’ve been doing some really great work lately. I really apprec- I mean, all of us really appreciate it.”

His words immediately went to your heart, causing it to stop for a moment while time seemed to slow down. A little fluttered when it started beating again. Heat was rising to you cheeks as you stared at him.

"Thank you, I'm just trying to really make sure things go smoothly." You were trying to skirt around his compliment. All your brains was focusing on was his wording.

"Seriously though, you've been putting a lot of extra time in. You've been here pulling a lot of late nights," Bradley started.

"Like I said, I just want to make things go smoothly."

"Well, they are and I was wondering if you'd let me buy you dinner or something," Bradley's words kind of fell out of his mouth, true word vomit.

You stared at him for a moment. You weren't sure if you had heard him right. You and him? Dinner? The heat in your cheeks started to radiate.

"I-"

"Because of work an-"

"I would love to."

don't forget to send some more blurbs in!

birthday blurb event!

[icarusignite]

Hey! I don't know if this is the proper format (still kind of new here) but I'm sending in this prompt for an Alfred × Reader fic. There's this idea for him that was stuck in my head a couple months ago. So…

It's set either S2 or S3 but it fits better in S3 or the break between 2 and 3. Alfred is really ill which isn't unusual for him, but this time he's taking a lot longer for him to heal and he's deteriorating more seriously than he normally would.

People in court start looking around for new healers and remedies. Alfred is also kind of desperate because he doesn't want to die before England is complete or Edward is ready to take over.

Reader, who is a healer, comes to court with the intention of helping Alfred. She's neither Dane nor Saxon, if you're comfortable with it she could be of Asian or African origin/descent (eg Father Benedict in S5). She's either Muslim or Christian, either way she's well read and a bit of a scholar (if you've seen Vikings: Valhalla S2, there's a female character that might ring a bell). She's also able to reassure him, like Iseult, that she's treating him with nature's bounty and nothing sinister.

Because she's a scholar (also maybe a Christian), Alfred is comfortable that she's not practicing witchcraft so this helps him accept her more easily. It also helps them bond and they become really close friends over the course of the months she spends treating him. They have fun banter and he's able to feel like Alfred, the man around her instead of King Alfred. Then he realizes that he has feelings for her.

At this point it could go any way really. Does Aelswith factor into it much or not? Does reader reciprocate his feelings or not? If she does, would she be comfortable giving into them and being a mistress? Is Aelswith even in the picture or is this a slight AU? Do they have a sad, happy or bittersweet ending? Idk

For extra spice, Reader could also be good friends with Uhtred or Finan which makes Alfred a little jealous but also sad because he thinks that she'd probably prefer the charming, handsome, potentially single, strapping man to whatever measly affection he could offer her.

Ideally, it would be fluff or smut but whatever you're comfortable writing is fine! Sorry if this is too long but I wanted to be as clear as possible 😅. I also understand if this is too much for a oneshot and you forego the idea entirely

Alfred the great x POC! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Heyy, so sorry this took literally eons to finally write. Thank you for your lovely request and also thank u for your patience <3 Hope you enjoy what I've done with your idea, and dw this will have another part where I'll explore their chemistry more. I watched a bunch of Alfred edits to get in the mood and ngl I'm lowkey in love with him now lmfao. 

Disclaimer: there might be some (a lot) historical discrepancies because I didn't line up the dates exactly but I did find out that the Golden Age of Islam overlapped significantly with the dates that the last kingdom spans so the reader is a prominent scholar from Baghdad. Also, Aelswith is dead (I'm sorry T_T) cuz I don't love a cheating trope even when it is sort of historically accurate. So we have single dad Alfred lol. 

The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you

Entering King Alfred's throne room, your senses were immediately awakened by the unfamiliar sights, sounds, and scents of Wessex. The room itself was a stark contrast to the opulent palaces and grand courts of Baghdad that you were accustomed to. The room was spacious, yet its decoration was surprisingly humble and simple, adorned with rough-hewn wooden beams and modest tapestries that depicted various scenes of English myths and prominent events. With a flash of triumph, you found that you recognized some of them from your studies of the English culture. A faint scent of burning wood from the hearth permeated the air with an earthy aroma.

You observed the nobles in attendance, or the ealdormen as they were called here, their attire markedly different from the splendid silks and jewels of Baghdad's court. Here, the people wore simpler garments made of sturdy wool and linen, in the dark colours of the earth as opposed to the the vibrant clothing the people of your home favoured.

Your gaze then turned to the throne itself. It was a robust wooden chair, its design austere yet imposing, lacking the grandeur of the magnificent thrones you had imagined English kings liked to occupy. King Alfred's regal figure atop the throne created a dignified presence. His clothing, matched the style of his ealdormen, long simple robes of a dull grey. The seat next to him was empty and you briefly wondered about his family. The chronicles you had read stated that a king's wife usually took her place beside him when he held court, but you did not know much of Alfred's wife.

Your fingers itched for your writing instruments, yearning to document all your observations and the happenings of the court. You seldom went anywhere without them, but now they remained tucked away in your satchel as you waited for the king to acknowledge your presence. You knew he had seen you enter, his eyes briefly meeting yours, even as he conversed with his ealdormen. Eventually, your thoughts began to wander and you couldn't help but reflect on the stark contrast between the scorching heat of Baghdad and the chilly bite of autumn in Wessex. your flowing linen tunic and trousers, so comfortable in the sweltering desert of your homeland, felt inadequate against the cold English air that seeped through the cracks in the stone walls.

You discreetly rubbed your tingling fingertips together, trying to generate some warmth, as the fire blazing at the hearth did little to banish the chill that had settled in your bones. Your longing for the warmth of the caliphate's sun was keenly felt in this unfamiliar and frigid environment.

Impatience welled up within you as you glanced around the chamber, noting the courtiers' stoic expressions and hushed conversations. The king's deliberations seemed to stretch on endlessly, and you found yourself yearning for the moment when you could finally present your credentials and seek the audience you had travelled so far to obtain.

King Alfred's voice finally called out your name, his voice echoing through the chamber.

"Esteemed lady, I welcome you to the court of Wessex."

The ealdormen, accustomed to the formalities of their court, were taken aback when you did not bow or curtsy as was expected. Instead, you offered a polite smile and tipped your head in a gesture of respect.

A murmur of surprise and disapproval rippled through the assembled courtiers. Some whispered that your behaviour was disrespectful, a breach of protocol. They exchanged curious glances, wondering how their king would react to this departure from tradition.

However, King Alfred took no offence. With a gracious nod, he signalled for you to speak.

"Thank you, your grace. It is an honour to be here."

Your accent was soft, lending your words a foreign intonation, and each syllable was carefully enunciated. You had spent months learning the language, and you weren't about to embarrass yourself now by messing up your pronunciation.

"I extend my deepest gratitude to you for undertaking such a long and arduous journey at my request. I hope the discomfort of the voyage did not prove too taxing."

"Your Majesty," you replied, "it was a journey of great honour for me, and I hope to make myself useful here."

King Alfred nodded appreciatively and then turned to a servant standing nearby.

"Please, ensure that the lady is provided with comfortable quarters and all the amenities she may require during your stay in Wessex."

The servant bowed in acknowledgment and stepped forward to escort you to your residence within the royal palace. You thanked the king once more for his hospitality and assistance before following the servant out of the chamber.

As you left the throne room, your observant nature couldn't help but take note of King Alfred's condition. Despite his attempt to appear at ease in his chair, you had perceived the subtle signs of discomfort. His favouring of his left side, indicating pain or injury to his right, and the unusually pallid complexion for an Englishman raised concerns in your scholarly mind. That was your purpose, after all, to try to diagnose and hopefully cure the ailing monarch.

Just when you were gone, the noblemen of King Alfred's court wasted no time in flocking around him, their curiosity piqued by the arrival of the enigmatic woman. They bombarded the king with questions and voiced their concerns about the unfamiliar customs you had displayed.

One nobleman, his voice dripping with skepticism, remarked, "Your Majesty, did you see that? She didn't bow or curtsy as she should have! It's as if she has no respect for you."

Another, eyeing your unusual attire and complexion, chimed in, "And her clothing, Your Grace! It's unlike anything I've ever seen in Wessex. She's clearly not from anywhere near England. What could she possibly want here?"

The murmurs of disapproval and suspicion spread among the courtiers, as they exchanged perplexed glances. To them, your arrival was an anomaly, and your behaviour had raised eyebrows and questions.

King Alfred, his countenance calm and measured, raised a hand to quell the growing unease.

"I understand your concerns, but there is nothing to worry about" he began, addressing their concerns. "The lady you have just met is a prominent figure from Baghdad. She has travelled from a distant land to be here and she is not here to defy our traditions or customs. She is a scholar seeking to further her studies in Wessex. Her journey to our land is a great honour, as it reflects the recognition of the importance of our own intellectual pursuits."

His tone left no room for further skepticism. He also did not mention the other reason you were there, as he did not wish to reveal the truth of his declining health. As the nobles filtered out of the room, somewhat still unsatisfied by his answer, Alfred couldn't help but remain still, his mind going over the recent developments. When he had first written to the Abbasid Caliphate to request that he be allowed to host a medical scholar at his court, he had to admit he was not expecting a woman, and certainly not one so beautiful.

The next day, Alfred summoned you to his private chambers for a consultation regarding his health. As you entered the room, he couldn't help but notice the change in your attire. Gone was the flowing linen tunic and trousers, replaced by a sturdier, more practical woollen English dress. The deep blue gauzy veil, however, was still draped around your head and flowed down your back.

The English clothing seemed to complement you, accentuating your elegance in a way that was both unexpected and captivating. The king, not for the first time, found himself admiring you, though he kept such thoughts to himself, mindful of the formal context of your meeting.

You, ever the professional scholar, maintained a polite and formal distance as you began your examination of the king. You inquired about his symptoms, listening attentively to his description of the pain and discomfort he had been experiencing. Your deep knowledge and keen medical insight were evident as you asked probing questions and conducted a thorough assessment.

After a careful evaluation, you began to discuss your observations and your initial diagnosis with the king. You explained your thoughts on the potential causes of his discomfort and suggested a course of treatment. King Alfred was grateful for your expertise, and couldn't help but be struck by your intellect. He had a thirst for knowledge himself and he appreciated the quality in others when he saw it. In you he recognized a passion for learning and documentation, one he held himself as well. After the medical examination, he extended an invitation to you to remain in his chambers and share a cup of tea. Initially hesitant, you eventually agreed, recognizing the value of the opportunity to engage in conversation with the English monarch.

Seated in the warmth of the chamber, Alfred began to share with you the rich history of England, its struggles, its triumphs, and its cultural tapestry. He spoke of the challenges of the Anglo-Saxon period, the battles against the Danes, and the enduring spirit of the English people. As he narrated the history of his land, Alfred couldn't help but notice how your eyes lit up with a deep fascination, even though you attempted to contain your enthusiasm. Your questions flowed naturally as you probed deeper into the history and culture of Wessex. You asked about the Anglo-Saxon kings, the legends and folklore, and the development of the English language.

You kept diligent notes in your little notebook, your hand swiftly capturing every detail of the conversation. Your keen intellect and insatiable thirst for knowledge were evident, and your genuine interest in Alfred's words warmed his heart. It had been quite a while since anyone had paid such rapt attention to what he was saying, and he found himself rejuvenated by your exchange.

As a lull settled over your conversation, Alfred's curiosity got the better of him. With a twinkle in his eye, he leaned forward and said, "My lady, I must admit, I'm quite curious about the contents of that notebook of yours. What sort of information have you been documenting to take back to your homeland?"

You smiled, your demeanour more relaxed than when you had first come in, "Your Majesty, you need not worry. I promise you, I haven't written that the English are fire-breathing trolls."

Alfred felt a grin tug at his lips, but he suppressed the urge, keeping his hands folded placidly over his stomach.

"Well, you know, if we English could breathe fire, we might have an easier time dealing with our enemies!"

"There is a trick that performers back home use, to give the illusion of breathing fire. The science behind it is quite fascinating. Perhaps I shall explain it to you sometime."

"Ah yes my lady, you have filled your book with our tales, but have yet to share yours. Do you have any secrets from the East that you'd like to share with us humble English folk?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his words, "I'm afraid some secrets are best left in the lands where they belong, your grace. We wouldn't want you to start brewing Persian tea incorrectly, now would we?"

"I doubt it can compete with our tried and trusted English tea."

"You only think that way because you haven't tried Persian tea yet. Trust me, once you have, there's no going back."

"I suppose you make a fair point! Although, I must admit, the thought of trying to decipher the intricacies of Arabic calligraphy is rather tempting."

You paused, your light-hearted nature urging you to make another joke but you strictly reminded yourself that you were in the presence of a king. It would do you no good to offend him with an ill-timed statement. You were already apprehensive about your earlier comment about the Persian tea, although you were grateful that he chose not to see it as a slight. As if sensing your hesitation, Alfred sat up in bed and leaned forward.

"You are free to speak my lady, do not hold yourself back on my account," he reassured with a wave of his hand.

Still, you settled for a polite smile, "I was just going to remark on the difficulty of calligraphy but I am certain that if anyone would be able to master it, it'd be you, Your Majesty."

A small furrow appeared between Alfred's brows as if that wasn't the answer he expected from you. He could see you pulling away, going back to your polite, almost cold professionalism. Eventually, he nodded thoughtfully at you.

"I would be ever so grateful if you could perhaps show me the technique someday, my lady."

You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded with a small smile.

"Now, about that notebook, if you would allow me to take a look?"

"Ah yes, of course," you handed over the small leatherbound journal to him quickly without further complaints. "But I must warn you, my handwriting isn't at its most legible."

Alfred accepted the notebook with a nod of appreciation. As he leafed through its pages, his eyes quickly fell upon your meticulously written notes. Your thoughts were inscribed in your native language and although he did not understand the words, your elegant looping script impressed him.

He raised an eyebrow and turned toward you expectantly, pointing toward a specific passage, "And what does this say right here?"

"It is a description of the English weather, your grace."

Alfred leaned closer, his finger tracing the inked lines on the page.

"Ah yes, English weather. It was raining when you first arrived, wasn't it? What do you think of our English rain then, my lady? I've heard it has a certain charm."

"Well, I believe your rain can be quite persuasive. It insists that one should stay indoors and read a good book."

Alfred's lips twitched again, fighting back a smile. It seemed that the new scholar shared his interests as well.

"A wise perspective, indeed. Perhaps our English rain is simply encouraging a literary lifestyle."

"Yes, your grace."

"My lady" he continued, a note of genuine admiration in his voice, "I must tell you, your handwriting is truly exquisite. Tell me, just how many languages have you learned."

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment. There was something sincere in his eyes as he waited for your answer, looking at you like your accomplishments were the greatest thing in the world. You opened your mouth to respond but then a loud knock sounded on the door and a priest entered.

"Yes, Father Beocca," Alfred seemed irritated at the interruption.

Father Beocca's eyes glanced from you to the king, and despite the fact that you were sitting in a chair quite some distance away from him, you felt a strange flash of awkward embarrassment run through you.

"My king, Uhtred is here to see you," the priest finally stated.

Alfred sighed and turned toward you with an apologetic smile, "Shall we continue our conversation another time then, my lady? It seems that I am needed elsewhere."

"Yes, of course, your grace."

You quickly took your leave then, choosing to take one of your books and go read in the garden. You had just settled yourself into a comfortable nook when loud boisterous laughter caught your attention. Turning your gaze towards the source of the commotion, you spotted three men, two of whom were dressed in the attire of warriors. Their boisterous behaviour was evident as they playfully teased and shoved the third man, who was clad in robes that resembled those of Father Beocca. However, a leather breastplate adorned his monk's attire, hinting at a surprising duality of roles – priest and fighter.

The two warriors were engaged in a lively exchange with the monk, their laughter echoing through the garden. You couldn't help but smile as you watched the scene unfold. Their camaraderie and jesting reminded you of the Caliph's sons back home, when your father would take you to visit the palace.

One of the warriors, a bearded man with broad shoulders and a hearty laugh, clapped the monk on the back.

"Come now, Osferth," he said between chuckles, "surely your devotion to the Lord could use a bit of levity now and then."

The monk, Osferth, grinned in response, "Aye Finan, it is said that laughter is the best medicine, is it not?"

The other warrior, a lean and quick-witted fellow, joined in with a jest, "Well, if that's the case, Osferth, then Finan here will live to be a hundred and you shall die tomorrow!"

Osferth elbowed the tall man in the ribs, "Not before I knock some sense into you Sihtric."

Their jovial banter and good-natured teasing continued, creating a lively atmosphere in the serene garden. You couldn't help but be amused by their antics and the familiarity of their interactions, watching them for quite some time.

The trio of men eventually noticed your presence, and with their laughter dying down, they made their way over to you. As they approached, their expressions revealed a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

The broad-shouldered warrior, Finan, whose eyes twinkled with mischief, was the first to speak. "Well, what have we here?" he said with a grin. "A traveller from foreign shores, I presume?"

"Yes, I am from Baghdad, my lord."

The warrior, clearly taken with you, couldn't resist a flirtatious remark.

"Lady, I must say, you are a wondrous addition to our English garden."

You snorted at his attempt at flirtation.

Meanwhile, the monk with the leather breastplate maintained a more respectful demeanour.

"Greetings, lady, I am Osferth," he said with a nod. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I ask what brings you to our humble Wessex?"

You found the monk's polite curiosity quite refreshing.

"Greetings to you too, Osferth. I've come to further my studies here. Wessex has much to offer in terms of knowledge and history, and I hope to make the most of it."

"Well, my lady, if ever you wish to explore our English shores, I'd be delighted to be your guide," it was Finan who spoke again and you could not help but laugh at his words.

"Thank you, kind sir. Your offer is most gracious."

“Call me Finan, my lady.”

Your change continued as they asked more about you and your hometown and you asked about theirs. You found out that they were a band of warriors who followed some fellow named Uhtred, the very same Uhtred who was currently speaking to King Alfred. As the conversation flowed, you discovered that you enjoyed speaking with these men. Their witty banter and friendly demeanour made you feel at ease, despite the foreignness of your surroundings. You shared stories of your travels, your scholarly pursuits, and the cultural nuances of your homeland. The men, in turn, regaled you with tales of their own adventures.

As you continued to engage in playful banter with the warriors, you remained oblivious to the presence of King Alfred and Uhtred, who had ventured outside and were observing the lively exchange.

Eventually, with a confident stride, Uhtred made his way toward your group to make his introduction and Father Beocca approached the king with his concerns.

"Your Majesty," he began cautiously, "I must admit, I have reservations about entrusting your treatment to a foreigner, especially one from so distant a land. We must be cautious of witchcraft and unfamiliar practices."

King Alfred turned to Father Beocca, his expression thoughtful but resolute, "Father Beocca, I understand your concerns, but the lady is no ordinary foreigner. She hails from Baghdad, a city known for its innovative medical advancements and a center of learning in the Islamic world. She comes as one of their finest scholars, sent by the Caliph himself."

"I see, your grace."

"I have read extensively about the great Islamic civilization, and its contributions to science, medicine, and philosophy. I believe we have much to learn from her, not only about medicine but also about fostering understanding and collaboration between our cultures. They have succeeded in uniting several lands under one caliphate, so perhaps we might learn how we may unite England as well."

Father Beocca, though still cautious, nodded in understanding, "Your Majesty, I trust your judgment. It is my fervent hope that the lady's presence here will indeed lead to beneficial knowledge and that she will uphold the values of wisdom and compassion."

"Thank you, Father Beocca. Let us have faith in this unique opportunity for cultural exchange and enlightenment. Her presence is a bridge between worlds, and I believe it is a path toward a brighter future for Wessex."

Over the course of the next few months, you became familiar with the routines of the Wessex palace. King Alfred allowed you to shadow him throughout his day, believing that you could provide valuable insights into his own activities. It was a decision that would lead to a profound connection between the two of you.

Every day, you diligently prepared poultices and medications for the king’s ailments, and often you’d recite the recipe to him and explain the purpose of each herb and plant that went into it. He found that he trusted you completely but he was still comforted by your transparency and the efforts you took to explain things to him. Sometimes he would insist on accompanying you on walks and you would point out the various native English plants and their counterparts back home. You also documented the king's activities and observations in your notebook. At times, he would request to see your notebook, often just to admire the beauty of your script. He marvelled at the graceful lines of your writing, and the intricate calligraphy that adorned the pages.

Your interactions went beyond the formalities of your initial meeting. King Alfred, always eager to learn, would occasionally ask you to translate certain passages from your native language and over time, your bond grew stronger. King Alfred began to look forward to each day, eager to see your bright and colourful veil, a striking contrast to your plain English gowns. He would wonder which hue you would choose, and it became a delightful anticipation in his daily routine.

Your conversations transcended the realm of duty and scholarly pursuits. The two of you shared your favourite books, discussing the nuances of various works and debating the merits of different translations. Your insights challenged Alfred's own understanding, and he cherished these moments of intellectual stimulation.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Alfred realized that you had become an important fixture in his life. your presence was a source of inspiration, a reminder of the power of knowledge, and a testament to the potential for understanding and collaboration between different cultures.

He found himself thinking of you when he was apart from you, reminiscing about how your eyes would dance with mirth as you argued with him about the inaccuracies of translated works, or how your laughter would fill the palace corridors. You had not only enriched his pursuit of knowledge but had also touched his heart, becoming a cherished friend and confidante in the process.

Alfred could still vividly recall the way you had looked at him with genuine wonder and appreciation when he had shown you his humble library. He knew that compared to the great libraries of Alexandria and Baghdad, his collection was modest, but you had delighted in it all the same. Your eyes, filled with curiosity and admiration, had swept over the numerous scrolls and manuscripts, taking in the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls.

In that moment, as you softly murmured your thanks, Alfred felt his breath catch. He was struck not only by the beauty of your physical presence but also by the grace with which you carried yourself and the genuine enthusiasm you displayed for learning. Your voice had a melodic quality that lingered in his memory. It was a voice that seemed to breathe life into the ancient texts that surrounded you and the king found himself quite enamoured with you. The two of you spent many a late night pouring over scrolls together, and although he always kept a respectful distance, Alfred found himself wanting to brush away the stray strands of hair that fell across your forehead, having escaped the tightly bound coil you usually kept your hair in.

Tonight was one such night as the dim light of the candle burned low, and after a lively discussion on herbal medicine, you had fallen asleep on one of the ancient manuscripts. Alfred, his mind still buzzing with the echoes of your conversation, fought against the pull of sleep. Instead, he watched you slumber, his heart filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

In the soft candlelight of the library, you appeared even more enchanting. Your thick eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept peacefully, your features serene. Your form rose and fell with each gentle breath, a rhythmic reminder of the tranquil cadence of sleep. Alfred couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty in this unburdened state. The play of shadows and light highlighted the delicate contours of your face, and the soft glow of the manuscripts around you lent an almost ethereal quality to the scene. You looked like a vision from a dream.

As he watched your slumber, a sudden, unexpected urge welled up within him. He was struck by the temptation to lean in and kiss you, but he quickly banished the traitorous thought. What an absurd thing for a king to do, to force his affections on a guest in his home. Especially when he had no way of knowing if you returned his feelings. He would have to content himself with the simple act of watching you sleep, his heart filled with a deep and unspoken longing.

He also found himself wondering if you were betrothed, for you couldn’t possibly be married and still be here. What man would not accompany you or let you out of his sight if you were his wife? Although you had discussed many things, you did not stray close to personal topics such as family. You were only a few years younger than him and surely you had to have someone in your life. And even if you didn’t, what could you possibly want with an ailing man like him when a woman as accomplished as you could have anyone in the world?

Such melancholy things plagued him as he eventually drifted asleep on the table across from you, his final thoughts fixating on what it might feel like to have your lips against his. 

[enden-agolor]

Hey enden! I just wanted to reach out as I know these are hard times for you. I’ve been wanting to say something and give you some support, but I have never known what to say, so I’m just gonna wing it.

First off, I would like to preface by saying you are an incredibly humble artist and writer. You carry great talent, yet you seem to almost expect people to not notice that. Never forget your talent, and that even something you spill out at 2am will most definitely be praised. You inspire me to create, I have been in a art and writing slump for so long. I got caught up in life and lost the love for it. You’ve lit that spark in me once more and want to get me creating, and most definitely writing, in honor of you!! That’s amazing man. You have some real special talent, and the mcsm fandom alongside others are seriously so so lucky to have you.

Second, I send nothing but love and support to you and your boyfriend. I know everything will work out just as you guys need it to. If she doesn’t get her karma legally, she most definitely will another way. I know you guys are so strong and will pull through with flying colors!! Death of a loved one is never ever easy, and the worst always happens to the best people. Know that none of what happened is your fault, don’t let guilt consume you, and both of you take care of and love yourselves. You guys seriously deserve it.

Lastly, on a less dreary note, I would like to ask if you had any fan fiction prompts for Jesskas? I want to write so bad, but I cannot come up with a proper idea that is really interesting and solid, yanno? I want to write something long, that I can really pour my heart out into. So if you had any tips or story prompts, it would seriously be appreciated, and you of course would get a huge shoutout, as you would with or without helping me since you are such a huge inspiration to me.

Best of wishes Enden!!

This may be a long response, so here-

First off, I suppose you are right when you say I don't really expect people to enjoy the content I create. It's not an easy concept for me to grasp. I have a lot of trouble seeing how people can like my stuff so much, or god even say I'm their favorite mcsm artist when there's so many others out there that carry so much more skill with colors and backgrounds and such. I know I'm not supposed to compare myself to others, but it is an incredibly hard habit to end. It's why I'm so shocked when I see actual fanart of my aus, or god even my writing. I cannot go back and read me own works for the life of me because I just cringe so bad at it, so when people say it's good I really just have to trust them and believe it.

All I could ever dream to do is inspire people to create and grow with their own imagination, so hearing that my stuff has done that sort of thing for you (and others who have told me the same) it brings me so much joy, but it truly is entirely hard to believe that it's me and not someone else being the one to do that. I don't know, but I am very honored to hear this from you. It only inspires me to push myself further and I don't know. Maybe some day I can push my imposter syndrome aside and really get a firm grasp on my full potential and be proud of it.

And thank you for the love and support towards our situation... As the days go by I fear more and more that that woman will get to keep her dog and nothing will come out of this other than we just have to move past it. So I hope you're right when you say she'll get her karma some other way. I've never in my life wished something bad to happen to someone. Not like this... So if karma does catch her, let it be as devastating to her as it was to us.

Now, real life shenanigans aside, we can get to the jesskas stuff 😏

For fanfic prompts, I always suggest exploring canon before getting into anything truly ambitious. If there's a certain scene in the game you'd like to further explore and add on to- do it! Like I've always wanted to write a fic that gets into a deep emotional moment between Jesse and Lukas after Jesse rescues Lukas and Petra from the Nether during episode 8 and they all enter the player dorms for the night. Just those off screen moments where you can take the characters and add more to the story is easy and fun in itself. I always like to look deep into the emotional aspect of it all, and really dive into how the characters might be feeling after a situation and how that gentle moment alone together could bring them closer. What I already mentioned being a good example because it's directly after PAMA, Jesse having to watch Lukas and Petra(or Ivor) die, and so on. There's a LOT of feelings to explore there. If that's something you'd want to try and tackle, go for it!! But if there's another scene from the game that really sticks out to you that you feel could be so much more, go for that too. It's good to start small and practice how you want to write the characters. Only reason I started a huge fic like Recovery straight away was because I'd been rping jesskas for like a year and a half already and was confident I knew how to write the characters and I wanted to do more for the little community by writing a nice big fic.

And again, it's Minecraft. There's a whole world to explore and put these two right in the middle of it. Think up certain scenarios you like and add on to it! Like if there's a certain scene you really want to do, build to it. Give the characters a goal and put obstacles in the way so you can really flesh them out on the way to that goal. What made them want to go there? How do they get there? What do they do when they get there? How do they communicate with others that might also be there? And how differently do they treat eachother compared to how they treat the others? Those are all things you really want to know ahead of time. Also pay attention to the scenery. Really look into the visuals your mind creates and do your best to get into the details about it all. There's a lot to get into with writing, and the best part about it is you're in complete control, so go crazy with your imagination, especially since it's Minecraft. It could be entirely self indulgent, or even something out of your comfort zone. No matter what it is, it's still growth and it's still progress to being a better writer. Just make sure you're having fun.

Also, thanks for taking the time to send this ask. I appreciate you 🩷

[hyperifictrashlazi]

" 𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 " ˢʰᵘ ʸᵃᵐⁱⁿᵒ ˣ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

I have fallen into the Vtuber hole, and I love it here. I stan NijiEN for life now and reading all the Luxiem X Readers in Tumblr got me melting and squealing and punching the air. THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD!

I couldn't help writing this prompt in the end out of pure inspiration, I just - csildbvlainele the possibilities and imagination is ENDLESS.

Anyway, have a sweet School Romance AU with Shubert X Reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Slightly quiet. Incredibly smart. Thoughtfully considerate. Steadily calm. Those were some of the myriad of words that describes Shu Yamino.

And despite being openly friendly, everyone still kind of wonders what exactly is in his mind, finding his constant tranquility as intimidating as it is soothing.

Shu himself doesn't really think of it much, rather he can say that the things in his mind are pretty simple.

Funny Memes. His Family. Things he has to do. His packed lunch for the day. The shenanigans with his friends. Ligma balls.

Yes, they were all definitely pretty simple.

"Uhm, sorry to bother you Shu, but... do you know to solve this one? I think my head's malfunctioning..."

All but You.

Shu immediately smiles softly as he turns your way, feeling his heart slightly melt at the sight of you being shy. "Oh, you do this..." and as always, he reaches out to help you.

Having you in his mind was anything but simple. You were definitely pretty, but simple? Goodness, not at all.

You weren't the smartest, your grades being above average at most and at least average at the subjects you hate.

You weren't the prettiest, rather he thinks you're more on the cuter side of pretty rather than downright beautiful.

But nonetheless, you were the most precious person to him.

The way your voice would hum little catchy tunes or call out his name that he hopes you keep reaching out to him.

The way your hand feels so warm at the simplest touches to the point that he wishes you don't let him go.

The way your eyes always seemed to be brightly gleaming in the most endearing way possible that he couldn't look away.

The way your presence alone assures him with safety and heart sworn promises in a skip of a heartbeat.

You were a constant in his mind, swarming him with overflowing emotions that defies logic at every turn. Despite how easy it is to label his feeling for you as love, it brings so much more complicated thoughts plaguing his head.

As strange as it is, the most complicated thought in Shu Yamino's mind is the thought of his seatmate, (Name) (Last name).

"I see... that's where I got it wrong." You mumbled before smiling up to your seatmate. "Thanks a lot, Shu!" you then chirp.

"It's no problem." Shu replied nonchalantly, watching you refocus to your problem as you solve it correctly this time.

He tried suppressing a smile, why is it that even when you're busy seriously concentrating, he still finds you so adorable?

(Name) who is the Theatre club's best actor.

(Name) who is a talented singer and dancer.

(Name) who is friendly and outgoing in nature.

(Name) (Last name) who is so passionate that the fire within send Shu's heart ablaze on the few times he saw it shine so bright.

"Shu? Are you okay?" You ask, snapping the boy out of his daze. Look at how you were worrying about something so small, he swears that sometimes you might be an angel.

"Sorry, I was a bit distracted." Shu admitted, slightly flustered that he got caught spacing out. Still, he glances his averted gaze back at you.

And with a moment of courage, Shu's fingers gently tucks loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

"There you go. It was a bit distracting for the both of us, right?" Shu said, smiling sincerely.

Slightly taken aback by the affectionate action, you touch the side of your head, right behind your ear where the locks of hair were securely tucked into.

"Yes, it was..." you answered before chuckling sweetly at how considerate he is, "Thanks Shu." you gratefully said.

Shu bites his inner cheek, trying to stop a grin but to no avail, a small smile slips into his lips. "Anytime." he ended up saying.

Because you were always in his mind, wistfully thinking of a forever by your side and wondering if you were thinking the same.

Because despite it all, Shu Yamino was a brilliant but simple person.

He was simply a Boy in Love hidden under the brilliance of his subtlety.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

I don't know if I should make a part 2 from the Reader's POV.

Anyway, thanks a lot for Reading!!

[nelweensfic]

Bergamot

This is for @drarrymicrofic prompt : Bergamot. Thank you @cluelesspigeons for beta reading 😊

Draco sighed when he saw the Gryffindors fighting during their Herbology class. Why did Finnigan find it funny to throw bergamot juice on Potter? The room was now filled with that citrus perfume and some students left to go outside, not being capable of breathing properly. 

When the bell rang, Draco took his stuff quickly, not wanting to be close to that stinky, beautiful, dark haired golden lion a minute more. Harry was smiling after the fight like he didn't care people could smell him from a mile away. Draco gasped  when their shoulders hit together. He had been staring at Potter again.

"Malfoy, stop blocking the way out!" Weasley hissed.

"It’s okay, Ron. Don't be that harsh," Harry said calmly. "Sorry, Draco." 

Draco only gulped, not trusting his voice. Since when was the Savior of the wizarding world being nice to him? Since when did he call him Draco? Draco ran away to his Divination class, knowing fully that the Gryffindors were going to the Quidditch pitch for practice. 

Pansy was bouncing, talking about how her date with McLaggen the night before ended but Draco wasn't paying any attention to it. He didn't even see the time passing by at all. All his thoughts were on a certain boy. He thought about how Harry's body moved during his playful fight with his friends. Draco started imagining the juice of bergamot all over Harry's body and how he could lick all of it away, tasting that fit chest to his strong neck, pulling him closer by his hair for a passionate kiss. 

"Draco, darling?" Pansy asked, snapping her finger to have him back to reality. 

"What?" 

"Class is over. We need to move for Potions."  

Draco grunted. The two hours of Divination passed so fast and they still had one hour before lunch. He used to like Potions with Snape but Slugorn was too weird for his liking, and today's potion was about making an antidote for a love potion. Draco prefered to learn more about useful potions, but Pansy had said it was useful because people got drugged a lot more lately with love potions and knowing how to help was their mission. Draco didn’t dare tell her that she sounded like Granger.

They met the Gryffindors again in the hallway.hey were still fighting playfully with each other. They were loud and Draco could see the girls being distant, not paying much attention to the Quidditch debate here. 

"Ah, dear students, come in, come in!" Slughorn said enthusiastically. 

The Slytherins let the Gryffindors enter first, Pansy rolling her eyes when Ron and Harry looked at them after Seamus told something to both them. 

"I will screw up my antidote, give them that damn love potion and send them to the hospital wing if they dare say anything bad to us." 

"Pans, they're not worth your talent in potions," Draco snorted. 

"But they still hate us." She huffed, making her way to the classroom.

"You tried to sell Harry to Voldemort last year." 

"Don't tell me no one thought about it. It's called surviving." 

"Yeah but we're not exactly the type of people to—" 

Draco stopped mid sentence as he entered the room. The smell was strong but he couldn't identify the source. His eyes immediately landed on Harry and then on the cauldron. The smile was spiraling in an uncommon way. A strong smell of sweat, fire but also.. bergamot scent? 

"Professor?" Harry said, his gaze still on Draco, who gulped when he turned his head toward Harry. 

"Yes, Mister Potter?" 

"What kind of love potion is it today?" 

"Amortentia. I recall you already know the antidote to the love potion." 

"Well, I can't smell anything," Pansy snorted, knowing fully the capacity of the potion. "Only Seamus' smell from the Herbology fight." 

"What do you mean?" Seamus asked, surprised. 

"Well, you smell like  bergamot and fire and sweat. You could take a shower after Quidditch, seriously!"

"What are you talking about?" Draco choked. "All I smell is Potter and it's the same thing!" 

The whole classroom went silent and looked at the Slytherins then the Gryffindors. Even Slughorn kept quiet, loving the little drama going on. Draco looked at Pansy, then Seamus and then Harry. Everybody was staring at the cauldron and at each other. 

"We both took showers after practice," Seamus said softly, looking with fear at Harry. 

"What do you smell, Seamus?" Harry asked genuinely. 

"Violets, cigarette smoke and Chanel n°5 perfume." 

Draco looked directly at Pansy. It was her smell. She'd been smoking a lot since the end of the war and her favorite perfume was exactly this one. No one could have known unless they were a Muggleborn. 

"What about you, mate?" 

Draco swallowed hard when Ron asked Harry about his smell. He couldn't possibly smell Draco. The odds would be close to zero, like the chance for Pansy and him to smell exactly the same thing but not for the same person. 

"Old books, forest pine and citrus." 

"What the—" Ron started to say, angry by the answer. "You told me you didn't like Hermione that way!"

"Ronald!" the girl shouted, surprised by the statement. 

Draco looked down, already disappointed by the answer. Of course Hermione would be a choice. They grew up together.  They were best friends and they were really close. Though he thought Harry  would smell that Weasley girl instead of Granger…

"It's not about her, you idiot!" Harry said, walking toward Draco. They looked at each other when Harry put his hand on Draco's chin to make him look into his eyes. "Who do you think I've been obsessed with for years?" 

[reidsaurora]

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OfWilliamAndWalter's 1K Cocktail Party ☆

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬:

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡:

🍸 As I always say in these types of posts, thank you. Whether you were my first follower or my latest follower, this wouldn't be possible without you. Whether you just arrived, or whether you stayed through my big mental breakdown during the summer, you are so very loved and I am so very grateful for you.

🍸 Of course this wouldn't be possible without my mutuals, who also function as my promo team!!!

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🍸 @dungeons-are-too-cold GG. Georgia Georgia. Oh, the things I could thank you for. thank you for being my best friend, like ever. You fuel me with new writing ideas every day and you beta read things I send you at 3 am and you literally have pulled all nighters with me before, even from over 2,000 miles and a time zone away. Words could never express how happy I am that you've been a part of my tumblr journey and just this journey through life. I love you so damn much.

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🍸 @writer-in-theory JAY!!! You. Oh, you. You are one of my favorite humans ever. You will scream with me about Steve Harrington or Spencer Reid or literally whatever at any given time of the day and I am so thankful for it. You have helped me out of writing slumps before and you have listened to me complain about being a bad writer and you're just... ugh, I love you. You were also one of the original inspirations for my blog and i think that's so cool! So thank you!! 🫶🏻

🍸 there are of course so many other people who have helped me through this and made this possible! @nomajdetective @reidselle @lunar-affection @lcvingprentjss @lukeclvez @writingquillsandpainpills @sadgirlml @will-on-the-internet @spookydrreid @gold-onthe-inside @ssahotchnerr @gay-prentiss @clarawatson @samuel-de-champagne-problems @foxy-eva and literally so many more!! you all mean the absolute world to me and i am so thankful for all of you!!!! ❤️

↳ icon in collage is by @lilacprentiss

↳ other pictures featured in the collage are from pinterest.

↳ dividers are by @anlian-aishang.