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emlovessid · 5 months

Note

For your prompt ideas: Regulus is stuck sitting next to a kid and his dad on a long flight, just his luck. Starts out trying to ignore them, but can't resist Harry's charm (or James')

hiii i loved this prompt so so much! hope you like it <3

Regulus has just turned the page of his book when he feels a tug on his sleeve. Taking out one of his earbuds, Regulus looks down at the boy seated next to him, surprised to find him holding out a packet of crisps.

When Regulus had boarded the flight, he was a little apprehensive when he saw that his seatmates were a toddler and a man who was almost definitely his father, if their resemblance and matching glasses were anything to go by. But it’s approaching their fourth hour in the air and Regulus hasn’t so much as heard a peep from him, until now.

“Hi?” Regulus says, looking past the boy to find his dad asleep, elbow on his armrest, his cheek resting on his fist.

“Do you want a crisp?” the boy says with a slight lisp.

“Oh, um – I’m okay. But thanks.”

“But you don’t have any snacks,” he says, the packet of crisps still held up towards him.

Regulus glances at the dad again; is it stealing from a child if they’re offering it to you, quite insistently at that?

Sighing, Regulus says with a smile, “Okay, just one. Thank you.”

The boy beams at him as Regulus reaches out and takes a crisp.

“I’m Harry,” he says, though it sounds more like Hawwy. “I’m four.”

“Hi Harry. I’m Regulus, I’m twenty-nine.”

–

James wakes with a start, his chin slipping off his hand and hitting his chest before he jolts back up. Blinking a few times, it takes him a second to remember where he is, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses as he looks over to check on Harry, freezing at the sight before him.

The man in the window seat – with the soft curls and beautiful eyes – has a novel open on his lap, one earbud in his ear. But what’s more surprising is Harry, almost a mirror image of the man, holding his Spot book upside down in front of him with the other earbud in his own ear. In unison, they both turn to look at him, Harry's face breaking into a smile.

“Dad! This is my friend, Reg,” he says proudly.

The man, Reg, meets his eyes and says with a shy smile, “Hi, I’m Regulus.”

James apparently takes too long to respond, too busy caught up staring at the slight blush that has spread across Regulus’ cheeks, that Harry decides to step in, saying, “His name is James but I’m not allowed to call him that.”

“What he said,” James laughs, delighting in the way Regulus laughs too. Reaching down into his backpack, he pulls out his own novel. “So, am I allowed to join this book club or is it closed to new members?”

James watches in amusement as Harry and Regulus look at each other, a silent conversation passing between the two, before Harry turns back to him, “Yes, but only if we can have more crisps.”

“Alright then, I can do that. Regulus, would you like plain or salt and vinegar?”

Maybe it’s the altitude but James swears time slows down a little when his eyes meet Regulus’.

“Salt and vinegar, please.”

His voice is barely above a whisper when he replies, “Salt and vinegar, coming right up.”

follower appreciation – drop me a prompt <3

#join in my follower appreciation and drop me a prompt <3 #jegulus #jegulus fic #marauders #sometimes i write things #replies

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momotonescreaming · 11 months

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Modern au where steddie are dating long distance.

They meet online, chatting about the fanfiction that Eddie writes and Steve reads. They chat about shared interests in tv, and movies, and music. About shitty parents and coming out. And then it sort of evolves from there.

Messaging, turns into phone calls, turns in video calls, turns into racing hearts and sweaty palms when they see a notification from the other. Turns into counting down the seconds until they can open their laptops and call. Turns into hardcore longing, and pining, and whispering I like you through the screen.

They start dating.

Steve will send him messages ending in hearts and kisses. Will send him thirst trap photos he takes at the gym. Takes photos of the dinner he makes and sends it to Eddie with captions saying he's saving him a piece <3. Learns to make Eddie's favourite foods, so he can make them for him when they meet.

Eddie sends him previews of the fic he's writing. Photos of him performing with his band, sweaty and smiling. Serenades him over video call, acoustic guitar perched in his lap. Watches the basketball with Steve, each from their respective living rooms.

He wonders what it would be like if they were together. If Steve could cook him the dinner he learnt just for him, if Eddie could curl into his side as they watch the game together, Steve whispering the rules of basketball into his ear.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss Steve. To feel those plump lips on his. To taste him. His sweat, his flavoured chapstick. Would he put his hands on his waist? His jaw? Cradle his face? Would he make it slow and sweet? Or rushed and desperate? Would Steve whisper I love you into the warmth of Eddie's mouth?

But they live on opposite sides of the country.

He loves what they have. He loves having Steve. But Eddie wants what other people have. Would like to go on a date that isn't through a laptop. Would like to be able to kiss and hug and even just touch his boyfriend.

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gideonisms · 9 days

Note

modern au meet-cute where gideon calls harrow her nicknames because she doesn't know harrow's name and is too afraid to ask

all right so I struggled to come up with nicknames, but hopefully the meet-cute bit makes up for it. This one also got kind of long

The girl is sitting cross-legged on Gideon’s favorite dryer in the laundry room when Gideon first sees her. Her first thought is: what the hell, now how am I supposed to dry my clothing? It’s not that they don’t have other dryers here. It’s just that the others either leave her clothing too damp, or smell extensively of wet dog. And Gideon has things to do.

Her next thought is: what the hell, she’s perfect.

Because the girl is perfect. Before this, Gideon couldn’t say she had one particular type, but as she looks at the miniature thrift-store goth in front of her, with her five different layers of black clothing, huge fuckoff boots, and grown-out buzz cut, she has to admit that the effect is both intimidating and extremely cool. That it’s working for the girl in a way it never worked for Gideon back when she’d had a brief goth phase.

The girl’s eyes are closed, body still. As though she’s waiting for something. Her lashes are dark against her cheeks.

“Um,” Gideon says eloquently. The girl does not respond. “Hello?” Nothing. Does she have earbuds in?

Gideon steps closer, and that’s when the girl’s body sways forwards, right into Gideon’s waiting chest. She smells kind of sweaty, and she’s warm as a fever. Gideon’s heart starts pounding. Is the girl dying? Gideon doesn’t know how to fix that.

“Hello, Morticia? Can you wake up for me?”

The girl’s eyes blink open. They’re extremely large and dark, and that’s probably why Gideon just stares down at her stupidly. But then they focus on Gideon. The girl’s eyebrows draw down immediately, and she shoves Gideon back, almost toppling off the dryer in her haste to get down on her own.

“Leave me alone!” she says.

“Okay. Sorry, it just seemed like you were having some kind of cri—”

“I am fine,” the girl says very definitely. She grabs her phone, which is lying on the table in the middle of the room, and hastily exits before Gideon can even ask her name. She leaves a bunch of cheap, badly-dyed black jeans in Gideon’s favorite dryer, too. Well, damp clothing it is.

At the coffee shop where Gideon works, she’s having a normal one. She greets the usual crowd from the university—there’s a twinge of pain in her knee whenever she thinks about the soccer scholarship she’ll never get there now. Anyway, the girls from the university are always very nice to Gideon. They ask her about herself, how long she’s worked here, what she likes to do on the weekends. Sometimes they look at her askance but later slide their numbers to her on a napkin. One even tried to get Gideon to come to a church function; Gideon thinks she would have killed it at the potluck, but she had a workout scheduled with Cam that afternoon. The guys either call her “dude” or don’t speak to her except to order.

This is the type of day Gideon has come to expect, and everything runs along the same well-worn track, with a brief appearance from Pyrrha, who turns on cheesy love songs on the store radio and shamelessly flirts with every mom who comes in until Gideon can only roll her eyes and tell her to stop stealing all the tips.

Even then, Gideon’s heart isn’t really in it. She has the vague sense that she’s running through the motions, living the life of the person named Gideon Nav because that’s the one she knows how to live.

Until around six PM, when The Girl walks in. Gideon had been starting to wonder if she’d dreamed the whole encounter, if her mind had conjured a beautiful goth girl out of sheer boredom. But no, there she is in the flesh.

She doesn’t look like she’s doing any better than last time, if Gideon’s being honest. Her boots are caked in mud, and she struggles to open the door. As she approaches the counter, she shivers even though the day is barely chilly. This time she is wearing headphones, big boxy ones with a visible wire that she keeps twisting through her fingers. She takes them off when she steps up in front of Gideon, distracted.

“Oh hey! You’re that goth bitch from before! The one on my dryer.”

The girl’s gaze immediately sharpens. Gideon could swear that she flushes darker.

“What are you doing here?” she snaps.

“Uh.” Gideon looks around. “I work here?”

“It’s not your dryer. It belongs to the complex.”

“Yes it is! It’s the one I always use. It’s my dryer.”

Gideon is beginning to think this whole conversation was a mistake.

“Well,” says the girl slowly. She’s staring Gideon down like she might kill and eat her, which is kind of doing it for Gideon. “When I’m sitting on it, it is in fact, my dryer. You can find your own.”

“Whatever you say, dryer despot.”

“Do you normally talk to customers like this?”

“Lord of the laundry.”

At that, the girl gives her one more withering glare, which suggests that not only is Gideon beneath her, but that she can’t even deign to continue a conversation with such an imbecile, then sweeps away. But not out the door, as Gideon expects. Instead, she sits down at a table.

For about ten minutes, she glares at the table like she wants it dead too. Or maybe she’s spacing out?

Gideon starts to ask her if she’s going to order anything, because at this point, she’s a bit worried the girl might pass out again, but then the girl pulls out her phone and starts typing rapidly. After about thirty minutes of this mysterious typing, she stands up and exits the building without fanfare.

Gideon doesn’t know what her problem is. But more importantly, she still doesn’t know her name.

“No, hang on,” Gideon says. “You’ve lost me again. I’m seeing an ashwaganda and I’m seeing a thething, but I’m not seeing them both together.”

“L-Theanine,” Palamedes says over the phone. “It’s a supplement meant to improve focus. Your grocery store might not have it, I just thought I’d ask.”

“No, I’ll keep looking,” Gideon says, although it’s late enough the people at the store might kick her out soon. “How is Dulcie doing, anyway? Does she need some soup too? Some chicken nuggets? I don’t know what people like when they’re sick.”

Palamedes might be laughing. “Perks of being Gideon Nav,” he says drily. “Anyway, it’s just the flu this time. She had it all checked. But you know how she is. She’ll want to keep working on the dissertation through it. Says she knows what being at death’s door feels like, and it isn’t this.”

Gideon hums sympathetically. She doesn’t really know what to say. She doesn’t have a lot of experience either being sick, dying, or caring for people who are sick. Recent events notwithstanding.

Gideon did almost die once, as a baby, but she hardly thinks that counts. What’s a little carbon monoxide poisoning when faced with a future strong, handsome lesbian? Although sometimes, she thinks it might be the reason she wakes sad for no reason in the early hours of the morning, as though her body is remembering the time everything almost ended.

“Oh, Cam wants me to relay a message. She says she’s going to, and I quote ‘kick your ass at Scrabble this weekend.’”

“I have work,” Gideon says absently. “I switched shifts with the new girl. She had to take off to take her weird dog to the vet.”

Palamedes is saying something about future plans, a topic Gideon has always struggled with, and Gideon gets this feeling again, like she’s gone missing in her own life.

And there in front of her, like an omen, The Girl appears. She just rounds the corner with a boxcutter in hand, running her finger along the catch over and over rhythmically. Her eyes are huge and dark and unfocused. Somehow, she looks more real than everything around her, like a dark ink blot over an aging photo.

In her other hand is a small box of cosmetics. They’re not in the aisle for cosmetics.

“Oh,” Gideon says, “It’s you.”

And then she stares stupidly. The girl seriously doesn’t look good—she’s had an air of malnourishment any time Gideon has seen her, but today, she’s practically swaying on her feet. On one side, her eyeliner is jagged. Gideon can’t tell if it was intentional.

“Yes,” Palamedes says on the other end of the line, baffled. “It’s still me. Does Thursday work, because Cam has clinicals on—”

“Look, I’m going to have to call you back, Sex Pal,” she says, and hangs up.

“Sex Pal?” the girl says in apparent disgust. “Is that really what you call your hookups?”

“Hang on—it’s not like that!” But Gideon’s protests are futile. In front of her, the strangest person Gideon knows, this unlikely bit of theatre in a world that has largely abandoned the stage, tips gently into a shelf of protein powders—and then she passes out.

When the girl comes to, it hasn’t been more than ten seconds. Gideon caught her before she could do any real damage. She wonders if she should call an ambulance. She’s halfway to shifting the girl’s weight so she can reach for her phone again, looking around for any other employees, when she feels a surprisingly strong grip on her arm.

The girl’s gaze snaps up to Gideon’s face, then to her arms, then to the tank top she’s wearing, which says #shredicated underneath the slogan for Gideon’s gym.

She narrows her eyes in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“I’m dedicated to shredding. Why else would you keep passing out in my arms?”

The girl immediately tries to sit up, but loses her battle with gravity.

“Okay, seriously,” Gideon says. “I’m calling the ambulance. You don’t seem okay.”

The girl’s grip tightens, her short, black-painted nails digging into Gideon’s forearm.

“You will not call the ambulance, moron. Why do you think I’m working here? Does it look like I can afford to miss the rest of my shift?”

“Not really,” Gideon admits. “But it kind of seems like you’re about to miss the rest of your life, so.”

She digs the phone out of the pocket of her shorts. On her lap, the girl twitches in a futile attempt to grab it from her. Gideon puts her hand around the girl’s wrist to hold her back, and holy shit, it’s so easy to wrap her fingers around the whole thing. The girl’s pulse pounds. Her wrist is way too warm. But she stops struggling. She just looks up at Gideon.

“All right, my discount duchess. We’re gonna get you taken care of.”

For a second, Gideon thinks the girl is going to protest again. But she just says, nonsensically,

“Harrow.”

“What?” Gideon pauses in the act of dialing.

“That’s my name. Harrow.” She points to her nametag, which actually says Harrowhark in a slanting, hurried script.

Gideon forgets to dial. She forgets everything about their surroundings. Because now the girl, Harrow, is blinking up at her with something like trust. It makes Gideon stupid. She feels like she’s holding the life of some very small, very helpless baby bird in her hands, and she’s terrified she’s going to fuck it all up.

“Don’t call the ambulance. Please. Just—I know what this is. I need—” She looks away to glare at the side of a protein powder cannister as though it’s personally offended her. Gideon falls a little bit in love. “I need sleep,” she finally says. “And water. Probably food.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Gideon says.

The girl sits up slowly and glares at Gideon too. “Well? Are you going to bring me water? Please,” she tacks on again reluctantly at the end.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Gideon brings Harrow water. She brings her a box of saltine crackers. And she brings her a protein shake which she doubts Harrow will actually drink, but she can hope. As Harrow nibbles on the crackers, she seems to gain vitality. At least, she goes from looking like roadkill to looking like someone who would take roadkill home and examine the skeleton.

Finally, Harrow looks up at Gideon in sincerity. “Thank you,” she says, only once.

“Gideon,” Gideon blurts out.

“What?”

“My name is Gideon.”

Harrow blinks slowly. “Thank you, Gideon.”

Gideon’s whole chest constricts like she’s in some kind of melodrama. She feels like she’d go slay dragons if Harrow wanted her to. Maybe it is just her need to be useful to someone, like Cam once said when they were both drunk, but Gideon thinks she wants to maybe pledge herself to Harrow forever.

“Mhmm,” she says.

“Now,” says Harrow, “I need you to help me up. I’m going to take an early lunch. We’re avoiding a nondescript man in a grey button-up, by the way,” she informs Gideon as Gideon helps her to her feet and walks with her to the back. “He’ll only start telling me stories about his troubled youth as a struggling freelancer. I don’t have the time. I need to study.”

“Noted. Avoiding guys who look like freelancers.”

When they reach the double doors to the back room, Gideon almost follows Harrow in, but Harrow stops her with a hand.

“You. Stay here,” she commands, which does funny things to Gideon’s stomach? Oh hell, Gideon might as well find out some more new things about herself tonight.

“Like, until you’re done with lunch break?”

“No.” Harrow looks at her as though she’s an idiot. “I mean, I am going to go about my evening. And you should go back home. I’ve troubled you enough.”

“It’s no trouble. I mean, gotta make sure you don’t faint on me again. It doesn’t really seem like your coworkers give a shit. Harrow, are you studying during the day and working here at night?”

Harrow’s expression tightens. “It is none of your business.”

“It’s my business when you faint into my arms.”

At this, Harrow does actually blush, Gideon is sure of it. She gets all annoyed about it too, scrunching her face up in outrage. “I didn’t purposefully faint into your arms! Yours were just the arms that were there at the times I fainted.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Harrow makes to turn around and leave Gideon behind.

“Wait, I—look.” She holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

To Gideon’s astonishment, Harrow gives her the phone. Gideon quickly opens up the contacts app and types her number in.

“I’m going to leave now. But you’re gonna text me when you get back home safe.”

Harrow raises an eyebrow. “Why should I text you? We live at the same complex. Come see for yourself. Building nine, number nine. Nine AM.”

“Are you inviting me over?”

Harrow looks her up and down. The look is brief, but comprehensive. Gideon can feel it in her spine.

“Your choice,” Harrow says.

Later, when Gideon is lying awake in bed, she’ll wonder about choice, about coincidence, about the unlikeliness of anyone ever meeting anyone, about why she lived long enough to become herself instead of dying before she could ever keep beautiful girls from hitting their heads.

But in the earliest hours of the morning, she receives a text from an unknown number. The text is a single word.

Home.

Yeah, Gideon thinks. Maybe she is, after all.

#replies #tlt writing prompt night #harrow's anemic charm vs gideon's need to pledge a vow of service to a woman #my fic #they are having some peak early 20s experiences in this one

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anawrites3 · 8 months

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Jaydick, but Dick gives Jason a big mommy kink

It was a joke, at first.

The first time it happened they were in the Cave, having just came back from the patrol. The night was considered a huge success because for all the bullshit that managed to happen in the span of those few hours anyone barely got hurt at all.

Instead, everyone was fucking exhausted. Jason’s fingers were still slightly shaking as he fastened the last bandage around his arm, not to mention the way his eyes kept slipping shut. Boy, was he grateful he didn’t get hit in the head that day because he didn’t think he’d be able to stay up, even if he would have concussion.

That’s why he was planning on crashing in the Manor. Bruce was there too, obviously, but Jason was too tired to worry about that asshole right then. He was going to throw himself onto one of the beds in guests’ bedrooms and sleep for as long as his body needed him to.

He said a quick goodnight to Alfred who wished him a good rest with a smile. He didn’t say a word earlier when Jason announced he’d be staying the night and Jason in turn didn’t comment on the fact that a bedroom for him was already prepared. Jason was too tired to deal with that right then – and he’d have other excuses not to later – so he saluted to the rest of the clan, before starting towards the stairs.

That’s when it happened the first time.

“Hit the shower before you go to sleep, Jay.” Dick called after him. He was sitting in the medical area of the Cave, stripped down to just his underwear so Alfred could stitch up the cut on his calf. “You’ll feel less like shit when you wake up.”

“Master Dick-” Alfred chastised.

Jason rolled his eyes but found he wasn’t actually annoyed. His relationship with Dick was… better, now. Way better than what he expected they’d ever had, especially with everything Jason did before. But here they were. Jason wasn’t going to complain.

“Sure, mom!” He called back.

Dick just smiled.

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

The next time it happened, Jason didn’t think too much of it either.

He was in the middle of baking when Dick broke into one of his safehouses – the one that was currently serving Jason as home and the one that Dick absolutely shouldn’t know about – and started talking to him about a case he needed help with. Jason decided to actually play nice and help him out, even if he was kind of annoyed that Dick found him.

If anything else he could at least be certain that the big bird won’t blab the location of it to Bruce.

And… then there was that whole thing of him feeling… something about the fact Dick turned to Jason when he actually needed help. Not to Babs, not to Tim. Not to the rest of the birds and bats. Him.

Yeah, he wasn’t gonna think too hard about that.

On the other hand though, Jason was in the middle of baking. And he always got bitchy when he got interrupted while doing something in the kitchen – and Dick freaking knew that. It never stopped him, of course, not even from trying to steal the dough or popping a bit of chocolate into his mouth whenever he thought Jason wasn’t watching.

Jason was less annoyed about that than he thought he’d be, too. Huh. Yeah, not touching that one right now either.

“Oh yeah, come to mama.” Dick said, reaching for one of the cookies as soon as Jason placed the tray on the counter in front of him.

Jason cocked an eyebrow at that.

“Mama?” He teased with a grin. “Wouldn’t you be more of a daddy or something?”

Dick moaned around the cookie in his mouth, “I can be whatever you want me to be, as long as I’ll get to eat more of these.”

-----------

And then-

“It’s not one of Bruce’s galas, Dick, I don’t have to look like I just walked out of the fashion magazine.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Dick ignored him as if he didn’t even open his mouth, making sure his sleeves were rolled up evenly.

They were getting ready for an uncover mission or – more precisely – Jason was. Dick was spending this one in the Cave as his eyes and Bruce was going to keep watch from the roof of neighboring building, ready to drop in if anything got too out of hand. Jason was the one going in this time, simply because their target haven’t seen him before.

Jason hated the fact that Bruce was going to be his support. Not like he could do much about it, with Dick still healing his injuries and Tim being away but still.

“It won’t hurt. You need to stand out.” Dick smiled. “Besides, I don’t get to see you in a suit very often. I need to take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Sure.” He drawled sarcastically but allowed Dick to fuss over him a few minutes longer.

It was true though, Jason couldn’t remember the last time he was actually wearing a suit. Not as nice as this, anyway, a grey three-piece that hugged his frame like a second skin would. It didn’t feel that alien – his gear was very fitting too so that part at least was familiar.

It’s the way Dick kept glancing at him that felt… new. Different from the way he was looking at Jason before but Jason couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Alright.” Dick hummed and Jason breathed out because that meant he was finally done dolling him up. “Now, be a good boy and don’t punch people’s teeth in before we get what we need, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Jason huffed. It’s not like he wasn’t good at undercover stuff. He didn’t like it and he definitely thought that Dick was way better at it, yeah, but it didn’t mean he would ever make such a rookie move. Even if he really wanted to, at times. “Not my first rodeo, remember? You really don’t have to mom me so much.”

“Mm.” Dick started adjusting his tie. “Then be a good boy for mommy and play nice.”

If anyone would ever ask about it, Jason would say he didn’t say anything back simply because he didn’t want to. Or that that was when Bruce walked in and told them it was time to move out.

When Jason will think back to it, he’ll remember the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times. The way his cheeks stung with the force of his blush. The way Dick ran his hands over the lapels of his jacket to smooth them out, slowly.

“Off you go then.” He murmured, looking at Jason from under his eyelashes and Jason still couldn’t know if Dick did that on purpose or not but he knew that it worked very well.

He lowered his chin in a sharp nod and Dick smiled, and then Jason was on the way to the club.

He couldn’t quite focus for the rest of the night. They got what they needed, no outside help from the Bat required, and Dick sent him a big happy smile when he came back to the Cave but Jason couldn’t stop thinking about what happened before.

He wondered if Dick was aware of what he was doing. He wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

-------

So. Maybe Jason had the slightest idea on how did it come to this-

“Mommy, please.” he breathed out, half a moan and half a whine.

Dick shushed him with a fond smile, peppering kisses across Jason’s jaw and cheeks. He was a solid familiar weight on Jason’s lap, pinning him firmly down to the mattress even when everything Jason wanted to do was to buck his hips, rub himself against Dick’s tanned stomach. Just enough to get some friction, just a little bit of pleasure Dick took away from him again because he was insistent to drag it out this time.

“Such a good boy, Jay.” Dick murmured against his skin, hand so close to where Jason needed it to be before sliding away again, higher and higher so it could settle on his stomach. “Just a little more, baby. Then you’ll get to fuck mommy the way you want to.”

“Please-” He gasped, fingers digging into Dick’s waist. How easy would it be to pull him closer, to slip between those cheeks… “Please, I need you-”

“Shh.” Dick gently cupped his jaw and lifted his head to press their lips together better. He kissed Jason slowly and filthy, slipping his tongue between his lips as soon as Jason parted them to gasp. He chased the sugary taste of cookies they had earlier, the one Jason barely finished making before Dick started pressing against him. “You have me, Jay. I’m right here.”

And it was the truth, wasn’t it? Jason had him, in a way no one else ever could. Dick Grayson, body and soul, all of that belonged to him now.

“Then do something about it already.” He demanded breathlessly as soon as Dick allowed him to speak again. “Prove it to me.”

Dick lowered his hand onto Jason’s thigh in a sharp slap that had Jason moaning again.

“That’s not very nice, baby. And you were doing so good.” Dick shook his head. “Only good boys get rewards, remember?”

“Sorry, mommy.” Jason whispered but he couldn’t stop his hips from moving anymore, trying to fuck into air.

“Mm, that’s better.” Calloused fingers slid down his stomach to finally, finally wrap around his cock. It was already so wet, both from saliva and precome that slid down the shaft from the head and Jason threw his head back with a loud whimper. How happy he was that those walls were sound-proof. “I forgive you, sweetheart. Now fuck me.”

And Jason didn’t need to be told twice.

#ta-da!#this was fun #thanks for the prompt anon!!#jaydick #dickjay #my writing #my reply #anon #Ana's spicy writing

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asterhaze · 1 year

Text

Horror Prompt: Write a story from the perspective of someone who is becoming more and more aware that this process is happening to them. NOT like the baby is swapped out when already birthed either~

(Sorry to paraphrase, it's just the story is already long. Thank you, @doublegoblin, for the prompt. I had an absolute blast writing this.)

Planet Batman

Video Log, Relative Date 238450

[Audio Only]

Something got me today, you know. Funny, I thought you should know about it before I told MED. Probably won’t tell MED anyway, it’s just an itchy spot. Anyways, we were checking out Gregaliton Ac - A planet I nicknamed Batman because there are so many freakin’ bird-bat things flying around. Figure he must be running around somewhere, haha!

Anyways, those bird-bat things? They can be really small. Like the size of your thumb when they’re babies, it turns out. They don’t weigh a thing and will climb all over you if you sit still long enough. I had a cut in my HAZMAT, thin as the side of a coin and only a few centimeters long. Got totally overlooked since the planet was deemed bio-safe. One of those damned things must have nibbled on me through that hole and now I have this tiny itchy spot that is driving me insane.

I scratch and scratch and all it seems to do is spread. Got some antihistamines and they don’t seem to be doing much other than making me tired as hell. It’s also started burning since I’m scratching so much, so I’ve decided just to leave it alone. Anyways, Darling, please don’t tell MED or Cap. This planet is a big break for me, especially since the bat-things are so easy to study, I really think I can get a few papers on extraterrestrial life going and get our names out there but if they find out I didn’t report this as soon as it happened-- they’ll expo me back to Earth and I’ll be done.

I’ll send you another log in about four earth weeks. Love you baby.

Video Log, Relative Date 238510

[Audio Only]

Sorry, I can’t get this damn thing to send you a video log. For some reason, it’s only sending out the audio file. It’ll have to do until I get back to port. Everything’s fine, just fine. That itchy spot went away and it’s like nothing ever happened. We found out the bird-bats drink blood, which I could have told you just by looking at them, and I pretended to have a cold to get some blood tests secretly run. Ran in there after hours and copied the results myself and you know what? Nothing. I told you I’d be totally fine.

They did say that if anyone gets bitten by these things they’re SOL until we get back to port since the full-body scanner is down. No X-rays, no MRIs, Nothing like that. Gonna put them in solitary as a sort of quarantine. So I gotta make sure this stays a secret so I can study these things. I feel stupid for telling you, but I guess you really needed to know. I’m trusting you not to tell anyone.

Anyways, let me tell you more about these bird-bat things…

Video Log, Relative Date 238590

[Audio Only]

Something strange happened to me, Darla. I didn’t want to say anything before, but now it’s obvious. My eyes have been changing color for the past few weeks. I didn’t even notice because they’ve been changing so slowly. You know how I am about my wrinkles, I’m always looking in the mirror, but sure as shit they’ve changed completely. Brown straight into a very bright, noticeable, blue.

George is the one who noticed a few weeks ago, when my eyes were about halfway to being blue. Asked me if I always had blue-brown eyes. Said he’d never seen eyes like mine. Looked into them for a long, long time, admiring them. I keep getting compliments on my eyes, people keep looking into them when they’re talking to me. Like…really looking into them and it’s freaking me out.

Don’t worry baby, I only have eyes for you. Haha! I do miss you though. I never thought I’d be bored on a planet with this many bird-bats flying around. They’re always on the ship, trying to claw their way in with their tiny claws, and they never get anywhere. It’s amusing to say the least.

We think we landed close to where they give birth since every one of the bird-bats we’ve seen around here only get about as big as your hand. Elsewhere, on the mountains though, they’re as big as a lion. We’re pretty sure they drink blood as babies and then end up as cannibals since we haven’t found another living thing on this planet except for the bird-bats and a bunch of plants. At least the little shits sleep underground during the day, or I’d never get any sleep.

Yeah, yeah. I know you hate it when I get my schedule turned around but how am I supposed to study them if they’re sleeping?

Video Log, Relative Date 238690

[Audio Only]

I’m so bored my appetite has gotten horrible. I eat and eat and nothing seems to fill this void I have in my stomach. I end up eating so much I throw everything up and I’m starving. They gave me a blood transfusion today, turns out Georgie and I have the same blood type, and I felt amazing afterwards. I keep joking that I must have had bad blood. MED isn’t too worried about it, I’m healthy otherwise. They think I have some sort of deficiency in something the blood tests aren’t picking up so they’ve put me on a liquid diet, lots of iron pills, and they’re planning on doing a few more iron transfusions to see if it will help.

Video Log, Relative Date 239450

[Audio Only]

Honestly, that blood transfusion helped more than anything. This liquid diet does nothing for me, so I’ve quit. Between the iron transfusions and a little bit of water, I feel okay enough to go about my week without eating at all. Isn’t that insane? My eyes are still blue, Darla. Stop asking about it, I’ll just let you know when they’re brown again. I think it’s something to do with the atmosphere…maybe the star around this planet. I’m not sure.

Video Log, Relative Date 239650

[Audio Only]

People are starting to think I have space madness, Darla. But I don’t. I’m just so bored all the fucking time. I want to move around, to jump, to climb things, but the gym is closed at night. Am I the only one studying these damned bird-bat things? Why am I being punished for being a specialist? I need exercise too. I think I’m going to go running around outside tomorrow night, climb some rocks or something, I need to clear my head. I have all of this pent up energy and I can’t think straight. I’m starving.

Video Log, Relative Date 245431

[Audio Only]

They caught me climbing things. George has been keeping an eye on me, saying he’s suspicious that I have space madness. Something about how sometimes I ramble on and on about things without a “clear direction” or something like that. I just do that. You remember that log I sent where I rambled on about bird-bats? Right? I just talk and talk. I like the sound of my own voice.

Anyways, now I have to have someone with me when I leave the ship. They’re still going to let me study the bird-bats until they migrate. They’re starting to eat each other already. I’m finding little bat-bird bits and pieces everywhere, so plenty of chances to take samples. We think they migrate to find bigger prey, eat everything in the area, and then move on again until they reach the mountain to mate and start the process all over again. I’m still so confused as to why they’re the only species on this planet and how they’ve lasted so long. It’s so strange.

Video Log, Relative Date 245652

[Audio Only]

Next time George sends you a log, I want you to delete it. He’s videoing me all the time, trying to find proof of me having “space madness” so he can get me in solitary. He saw me looking over the HAZMAT suits. I wanted to make sure there were no holes, Darla, I really did. Remember the hole? That suit was still there. What if someone else got in it and got nibbled on by a bat-bird? Then we’d have to go home and my paper would be null and void.

A paper. I’m obsessing over that damned paper.

What if George is right and I do have space madness?

…

That’s impossible. I had all of those tests run and the only change I’ve experienced is the eye color change. Maybe a little ditzyness. Poor appetite. Hell, some people get that just from being away from home too long. George is getting into my head because I’m still starving to death and all of these people keep staring into my eyes when they talk to me still. It’s disgusting. They’re disgusting. I wish they’d leave me alone.

Video Log, Relative Date 245662

[Audio Only]

I’m sorry I sounded so frustrated last time. I’m just tired of having people up my ass. But I have good news. George tried to tell Cap that he didn’t like how obsessed I was with the HAZMATs, the whole “space madness” thing. When the Cap asked me about it I told him to read the report I made on the suits, including where I marked the suit with the hole and made a comment that George seems pretty obsessed with the whole space madness and gets antsy around the HAZMATs. I’ll be honest with you Darla, I can’t really believe it. Cap apologized and now I’m allowed to run around on my own again.

He threw George into solitary for harassment. George is the one getting in trouble for not reporting a hole in the suits, not me. It took a lot of talking, a lot of fenagling, but I got the job done. I won’t bore you with the details. Point is, George is in solitary and things are looking up for me for as long as we are on Planet Batman.

I told Cap about the gym and he opened it up for me for a couple of hours a night, so I haven’t gotten in trouble for climbing for a long time. I’ve gotten pretty good, surprisingly good, it’s like my hands just…know where to go. Like my feet just glide right into place. I fucking love it. Not as much as I love you, but pretty damn close.

Video Log, Relative Date 245700

[Audio Only]

I’m really ready to be home. Everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. I know it’s called solitary, but they let you talk to them through the wall since they’re not in real trouble. George and I used to be friends before all of this, you know, you remember George, so I thought I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. Yeah, because George and I were friends before all of this. Just to be nice.

…

Oh fine. I wanted to show him a smug look, okay?

When I got there, we of course got into an argument. Things got heated and…I have a strike on my record now. Cap said he’s just going to mark me down for bad behavior because I’ve never had a strike before. Should expire before we get back to Earth so it won’t go against our credits. I’m sorry Darla, it’s just…everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit--

Video Log, Relative Date 245705

[Audio Only]

Georgie is dead. They found him this morning out behind the rocks that the ship kicked up when it landed. Seems like he fell from on the ship somehow. I have no idea how he could have gotten up there without flying, and the bird-bats are all gone, so I’m not quite sure what happened. Honestly, I have no clue. Not a single one. Not even a crumb of an idea of what happened to poor old George and his magnificent body.

The best thing about this, Darla? I’m finished with my papers. They’re even going to let me come back here in a few rotations to follow up my work. Cap and MED are ecstatic and are calling this mission a total success. I have to say with George gone, that statement is impeccably true.

Love you, Darla. We’ll be taking off in a few days.

Video Log, Relative Date 245709

[Audio Only]

What the fuck, Darla? What the hell is wrong with you? I never got bit by one of those things. I got nibbled, NIBBLED, they never even drew blood. I never stole my medical records, I copied them. Listen, I know you’re angry at me for not sending you a video log for most of the trip, since my eyes changed color, but I can’t believe you’d rat me out like this. You’re lucky my paper was already done or I’d be considering a divorce. Hell, I’m considering one anyway. What in the world makes you think I killed George? He fell, Darla. All you have to go on is a video log you said I sent, which I didn’t, and… you know what Darla? Forget it. We can talk about it when I get home. Consider yourself lucky the Cap thinks you’re the one who has space madness.

#original fiction #original writing #original story #horror writing prompt #writing prompt reply #horror writing prompt reply #writeblr #writing #writers #writers of tumblr #writblr #writerblr #write #writing community

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me-writes-prompts · 1 year

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hello! can you make some marriage of convenience prompts?

One of my favorite tropes :) hope you enjoy!

By @me-writes-prompts

"This is only, and only for the business deal. No more, no less."

"You know I'll never love you, right? I'm doing this just so my parents don't disown me."

Person A and Person B have always been enemies, so what's with their parents being friends and forcing them to get married?

Getting married to settle political matters.

They're both celebrities and people want to see them as a couple off-screen too. There is money involved with popularity, so why not? Until it becomes not about the money but the damn feelings. (Ok, this is very specific, but go with it)

"I never even dreamed that I'd marry you, of all people." "Me neither, but here we are."

Holding hands and kissing in front of their friends and family, but slowly, it's becoming more genuine and there are feelings being poured into it.

Getting protective over the other without meaning to.

Starting to feel *butterflies* when they get too close to each other.

"Omg, they thought we were a couple." "Because we are, we're literally married." "We are not a couple." "Yet." (Ikykwk;)

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 9 months

Text

Whump Prompt #1328

Anon asked:

Hi! do you have prompts/suggestions for fun illness symptoms besides like fever and cough and such? I feel like my sickfics are getting really repetitive and I wanna spice them up but I'm not sure how

Sure! Here’s a few:

- Difficulty sleeping / sleeping too much / excessive tiredness

- Not being as ‘sharp’ in conversation

- Glassy eyes/bloodshot eyes

- Stomach pain

- Aching joints

- Loss of appetite

- Sinus pressure

- Chills/hot flushes

- Dizziness

- Shortness of breath

- Confusion

- More emotional

- Nausea

- Dehydration

- Runny/dry nose

- Dry, chapped, sore skin around nose and lips.

- Sudden drowsiness

- Breathing difficulties / blue/pale lips

- Chest pain (from coughing too much)

- Coughing up blood

- Sneezes that cause nosebleeds.

#feel free to add more in the replies/reblogs #Whump #writing #prompts #angst #ideas #sickfic #illness #symptoms #coughing up blood #blood #nosebleeds #aches and pains #complications of illness

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Note

i love love love what you did in kinktober and fluffcember with him, so 2 and 11 with harvey specter!

Send me a comfort prompt!

Ahh thank you so much, nonnie! I did something a liiiittle different with this one!

Prompts: Giving them a shoulder message when they won’t leave whatever they’re working on; stopping by their workplace on your way home late at night with the hunch that they’re still there

Harvey glances at the time off-handedly, then does a double-take when he sees how late it is. He frowns, reaching out and taking hold of his phone and lifting it, eyeing the complete lack of notifications there. Harvey hums, eyes narrowing a touch before he stands. He smooths his jacket as he rounds into the hall, striding toward the bullpen.

The office is almost entirely dark and silent, but he sees a light on in one of the far cubicles.

You're so locked into the brief that you're working on. You've hit a good flow; the volume on your music is up so loud that you can hardly hear your own thoughts. That's why you nearly jump a foot in the air when someone's hands land on your shoulders. You whirl around, your earbuds falling out as you turn around in your seat.

Your panic melts to fond irritation at the sight of Harvey, his smile widening as his brows raise.

"Jesus," You laugh, settling back down in your seat and resting your hand over your pounding heart. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I gathered."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you the same thing." Harvey leans back against your desk, folding his arms across your chest. "You told me you'd text when you were heading out."

"Well, I'm still here, so."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I know exactly what time it is."

"Great. Pack up, let's go."

"I'm not done here."

"Wrap it up."

"I can't," You shake your head, turning back to your laptop and resuming your work. "Louis needs this at eight in the morning."

Harvey scoffs, rolling his eyes. You feel him shift beside you, straightening. You figure that that'll be it, that he'll leave without saying goodnight—

And then his hands settle on your shoulders again. You figure he'll kiss your cheek, tell you not to stay late...

But your eyelids flutter as he begins to gently massage your shoulders.

"Harvey," You warn softly, "Don't you dare."

"Don't I dare what?" Harvey murmurs, "I'm just helping you relax a little. God knows how long you've been hunched over your laptop."

"I'm not hunching. I have excellent posture."

"Sure you do, Quasimodo."

"Fuck off."

"Ooo," Harvey chuckles. You can feel him leaning in closer, lips brushing against your temple. "Big talk from a junior associate."

You fight back a shiver as your fingers flex over the keyboard. Then, you resume your typing.

"You gonna keep that up, Mr. Specter?"

"I might, if it means you leave faster."

"If anything, your shenanigans are slowing me down."

Harvey hums, thumbs sweeping over the base of your neck and pressing in slow, careful circles. You let your eyes slide shut for a moment, drawing your lip between your teeth. Damn, he's good.

"You sure you're set on staying here?" He adds.

You sigh heavily, nodding. "Positive."

After a moment, you feel Harvey straighten, murmuring, "Alright." He gives your shoulders one more squeeze before letting go.

"Get home safe," You offer dejectedly.

"I'm not going home."

"What?" You frown, whirling around to look at him. He tucks his hands into his pockets, strolling away.

"Text me what you want to eat. You're gonna need takeout," He calls over his shoulder. You can't help but grin, springing up and chasing after him. You grasp his sleeve, tugging to turn him before you dart in, giving him a tender kiss. You're certain that in another instance, he may recoil, but the office is otherwise dark and silent, and Harvey draws you in without hesitation.

You peck his lips once more, drawing back just a touch.

"You're a real softie, Mr. Specter," You murmur.

"How dare you. Get back to work," He teasingly orders, patting your hip and shooting you a wink before drawing away.

#Harvey Specter x Reader #Harvey Specter x You #Harvey Specter/Reader #Harvey Specter/You #asks #replies #anon #prompts #writing prompts

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novella-november · 4 days

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Not to harsh your joy regarding your personal project, (which does sound awesome!) the fact that you keep answering the "can I do fanfic?" questions with "technically yes, but have you considered not doing that?" does not actually *feel* very fanfic friendly. (Especially for anyone who enjoys fanfic as a hobby and isn't also an ofic writer. For example, I personally write almost exclusively character studies that are an explicit reaction to canon; there is no real way to write that sort of thing except as fanfic.)

Which is just a long-winded way of requesting that you maybe consider less of a caveat with the FAQ if you make one, please.

oh that was definitely not my intention, thanks for the ask! I think it was mostly just because I got that same question a few times in a row from various anons within the same time span (including some that were not published publicly), it just happened that I was thinking of my own project(s, plural now) in the last day when I answered those two, for those who want an extra creative challenge.

There's a reason my own original thing has been in my head for the last ten years without me actually writing it while I've written and posted tons of fanfiction, and even now some of my original works are going to be based on Arsene Lupin, so they'd technically be considered fanfiction since they're based on and use an established work for the characters and settings --

--writing completely original fic *is* harder, and that's exactly why I'm *suggesting* (not requiring!) that people consider taking 1 out of short story 4 challenges to look at their work in a new light.

90% of what I read and (until I actually start and finish my original works) 100% of what I've written in my life is fanfic. I have nothing against fanfic, otherwise I woudn't even be interested in creative writing.

But its also not a diss to say "Would you consider looking at your [fanfic] writing from a new angle and try to figure out different ways of going about it?"

Honestly, being able to even consider this option *as a fun extra challenge* is meant to help improve your writing and creative skills; it's not meant as a cheap shot at people who choose to write fanfiction because I my self write and read tons of it,

it's me saying "if you want even more practice at creative writing during these monthly challenges, try branching out a little bit from your comfort zone, you may be pleasantly surprised."

People who write and read fanfiction already have tons of creative experience, and if people like me and many other fanfic writers who one day dream of being published authors, want to broaden our horizons and seek new experiences, one of the easiest exercises is to take something we're planning on writing or already wrote, and see what we would change to make it brand new and standalone--

-- something that not only helps you come up with new ideas, but also will help when it comes time to *edit*, which can be, depending on the length and complexity of your story, can be a complicated process:

whether that means having to delete scenes entirely,

changing what a character says,

altering an aspect of the worldbuilding to fix plot holes

, re-writing your character so they're not overpowered because it was ruining the stakes and tension,

changing the POV of chapters because it was ruining the flow of the story,

etc etc etc.

I love fan fiction.

I love reading it and I love writing it, and for many people who take on monthly writing challenges, it is a way to test ourselves and gear ourselves up and prove to ourselves that not only can we write x amount of words, but it proves to ourselves that we are *capable of creating*, and for many creatives, that ultimately leads to crafting our own unique stories;

if you're already taking place in a monthly writing challenge, why not push the bounds a little bit *if you're so inclined* and test the waters? Especially when you're surrounded by a community who is cheering you on, every step of the way?

Every Nanowrimo I ever won was fanfiction. Heck, even not during November I once did 40k words in two weeks for a fic.

I always stalled out when I tried to write original works;

it is much easier to start small with a single short story than it is to try to write an entirely original novel, and my encouraging people to try baby steps by *experimenting* with one short story out of four in a month is not meant to be a diss against fanfiction,

but an *encouragement to those like me* who were so eager to write original works but floundered when I tried to jump into the deep end and felt disheartened.

Many fanfic authors aspire to write original fics, and thats who that challenge is for, for the people who want to write original works but are too afraid to fully commit; I'll still be writing and posting fanfiction even if I become a published author, even If I just have to come up with a few new pen-names to post them under.

There's absolutely no judgement on anyone who wants to write fanfiction for these challenges, my "caveat" as you say, is only there as encouragement to those like me who are afraid to take the first step, or uncertain of how to even *begin* that first step, not any kind of condemnation.

TL;DR:

I did not mean for my responses on the "can I write fanfiction" to come off as rude or looking down on fanfiction, its meant to be an encouragment to all the people like me who love fanfic and started out writing fanfiction, and dream of writing original works to take the first step, with a community of like-minded people all taking the same challenge.

Like every other challenge aspect of these events, taking a fanfic idea and turning it into an original short story is completely optional and meant as inspiration, just like following prompts for events is not mandatory, and even completing the 30k word goal is not mandatory; the goal for this month is to create, get in the habit of creating, and having fun with it!

#replies #long post #I gotta leave for work but hopefully this clarifies?#I might just be reading too much into it or vice versa?#my posts are not meant to be rude or an attack but theyre meant to be #encouragement and inspiration for those looking for it #just like having prompts and the option of doing short stories for november instead of one long complete work etc #writing a thesis statement - a dissertation - a fanfic - an original work - a technical manual-- all of these are still writing #this whole event is optional with additional optional challenges and prompts meant to spark creativity and flexibility

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