#prompt drabble

[theworldofotps]

I Like You (Drabble)

Pairing: Hook x Reader Word Counter: 1,029 Prompt: ❛ i like you. a lot. like a lot, a lot. ❜ ❛ you’re important to me, you piece of shit. ❜ ❛ it terrifies me what i would do for you. ❜

@omg-im-such-a-masochist here's your prompt my love I hope it's close to what you were imagining! ________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex​ @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty​ @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know ________ “Did you hear?”

“What?”

Y/n asks looking up from her phone after her friend Anthony sat down beside her on one of the work crates.

“Hook has a date with one of the new intern girls and I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because she was recommended to the company by Jericho, and you know he’s always trying to get some dirt on someone. I know you’re supposed to ask people questions when you try and get to know them, but her questions are intense.”

“Well, have you said anything to him about it?”

“You know he won’t listen to any of us that’s why the lads asked me if I would talk to you about it because maybe he would listen to you. After all you are one of the closet people to him apart from his dad.”

“So, in other words you want me to do your dirty work for you?”

She smiled watching as Anthony rubbed his cheek looking around the room before sitting down in the chair beside her.

“We tried to talk to him about it but he wouldn’t even give us the time of day about it just his usual fucking grunt and a blank stare. We just don’t want him to get hurt is all or have this woman fuck around with his feelings.”

“Have any of you bothered talking to the girl I mean the only thing you’ve said is her questions are kind of weird. That doesn’t mean she’s going to fuck Tyler over you can’t assume all woman interested in him are going to be bad.”

“You’re acting like I don’t know that you have feelings for him.”

“Shut up!”

Y/n hissed looking around to be sure that nobody overheard Anthony’s big mouth before turning her gaze back to him.

“Nobody else needs to know that least of all him, I’ll talk to him but I’m not going to just assume she’s after him for bad reasons.”

“Thanks, you’re the best text me how it goes.”

“Yeah yeah I will.”

Standing up Y/n throws her trash away than turns heading out the doors she figured that if Tyler wasn’t warming up somewhere; he was bound to be lurking around the hallways listening to his music. Walking around for a few minutes she pulled her phone out sending him a text.

‘Where are you?’

‘My dad’s locker room’

‘Can I come talk with you?’

‘Yep’

Pocketing her phone, she makes her way through halls and soon arrived in front of the door, giving a light knock she waited.

“Come on in y/n.”

“Hey thanks for giving me a few minutes to chat with you.”

She smiled poking her head in the door and closed it behind her after stepping inside, leaning against the door she watched as he moved around the room. Then patted the couch cushion beside him, y/n walked over sitting down and stretched her legs out.

“What’s up?”

“So, Anthony told me you had a date with one of the new interns.”

“Yep, I’m going out with her tomorrow night, he was trying to give me some hassle earlier, but I just ignored him.”

Tyler pushed the hair out of his eyes adjusting his hoodie then looked over at her.

“Is that why you’re here to give me some trouble?”

“No, I just wanted to come talk to you because he’s worried about you all the lads are and since you won’t hear him out. Anthony is hoping that you’ll at least be willing to hear me out about it although lord knows you don’t always listen to me when you should.”

“You guys are always on my ass when I’m planning on going out with someone, I know what I’m doing I’m not a child.”

“Nobody said you were, but your friends are concerned so the least you could do is at least hear them out a little. Anthony said that the woman was asking some weird ass questions and he’s just worried about you.”

“Look it’s fine I can handle myself y/n I don’t need to be looked after, beside you don’t see me jumping every time someone asks you out. So why can’t you just let me do my thing.”

Looking at him surprised by his sudden change in tone y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly as she huffed at him.

“Because you’re important to me you piece of shit.”

Y/n snapped as she stood up off the couch and started pacing back and forth.

“We care about you and we don’t want you getting hurt we care about you.”

“I know you do but it’s not a big deal, there’s no need to get so bent out of shape.”

“Oh my gods you really are dense I like you. a lot. like a lot a lot. And I just want to be sure you aren’t going to get hurt by anyone. I couldn’t stand the idea of you getting hurt by someone you may be emotionally invested in. It’s terrifies me what I would do for you, just please let us do what we need to try and keep you safe.”

Y/n ranted but stopped when he stared at her his eyes wide at her confession.

“You like me?”

“That’s what I just told you, now you go ahead and go on your date but at least hear Anthony out he’s one of your best friends.”

Tyler quickly got off the couch grabbing her arm when she turns to leave, she hadn’t meant to embarrass herself like that in front of him.

“So should I pick you up around seven?”

“What?”

“Anthony may have let it slip that you had feelings for me and so we cooked this up to see if you’d actually admit it.”

Tyler smirked pulling y/n against his chest and held her hips as she stared at him in shock as she tried to comprehend what he was saying.

“That little fucker.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“Mm just let me know how I need to dress, and I’ll see you then.”

Y/n smiled wrapping her arms around him their lips meeting in a soft kiss.

#aew #hook aew #hook fanfiction #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #prompt drabble

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

from this prompt list (send me some if you'd like!) prompt #s 35, and 82

pairing: steddie | word count: 819 | rated: M (just in case!)

“Ah, fuck!” Eddie pants, finally letting go and dropping his weight into Steve’s capable hands.

Steve lets the other man catch his breath, running his hand up and down Eddie’s bicep in a soothing motion.

“You’re doing great, Eds, that was fucking perfect.”

Eddie looks up at him, mouth still hanging open though his breath is finally slowing.

“This is a one-time thing, you know.” Steve says.

“Fuck you.” Eddie heaves out, finally catching the last of his breath.

Steve chuckles at him, “Well, it is! I told you you’ve only got to try it once.” He moves his hand from Eddie’s bicep to pat the scraggly bun on top of his head sympathetically.

“Stop laughing at me, asshole.”

“I’m not! I’m not,” Steve laughs, “Well, okay, yes, I am–but!--it’s only ‘cause I love how irritated you get.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Shut up, Harrington, just pass me the fuckin’ weights.” 

Steve smiles as Eddie lays back onto the bench in a huff. “You think you’ll get up to 25s by the end of the month, or are you gonna stick with 20s all year?”

“If you keep making fun of me, I’m gonna bench the 5s. Now pass them over; I gotta get this done ASAP.”

“Oh do you now?” Steve asks, coaxing his boyfriend to sit back up so he can take the weights properly. 

Eddie takes the free weights and lays back down, holding them over his head for another set of presses. “Yeah, duh. The faster I’m done, the faster I get to see you do yours.”

“You got a thing for jocks or something, Munson?”

Eddie’s starting to huff again, finishing off rep seven of ten.

“You know I do, sweetheart.” he grits out, pressing out the last one; he sits up and drops the weights to rest on his knees. “Pretty boy muscleheads lifting 70 fucking pounds over their head at once really gets me going.”

Eddie’s not lying either, he’s been giving Steve the eyes the whole time they’ve been in this gym, and it’s NOT helping Steve’s concentration.

Steve does his warm-up jog on the treadmill? Eddie gives him the eyes.

Steve manages to do a full set of reps with 35s instead of 30s? Eddie gives him the eyes.

Steve loads up the leg press machine, eyes. Actually does leg presses, eyes.

Eddie sets the dumbbells on the floor and stands so Steve can take his place on the bench.

“You’re insatiable.” Steve gumbles, hefting his own weights (still 35lbs each!!) onto his legs so he can push them up properly with his knees and lay back for his presses.

“And I can’t wait for you to saiche me when we get home.” he says, relishing in the fact that he made Steve laugh in the middle of his last rep.

“Don’t do that, asshole! I coulda dropped this thing on my face!” 

They swap spots once more, Eddie finishing his last set on the bench, then Steve starts talking him through the next exercise.

“Okay Eds, you’re gonna stand up for this one. Make sure you’re standing straight, take one weight in your hands by one of the ends like this,” he cups one bell of the dumbbell in both his upturned palms, “and go behind your head with it, palms up.

“Then, all you have to do is push the weight up toward the ceiling and back. Got it?”

He demonstrates, both arms stretched up and bent at the elbow to let the weight hang from his hands behind his shoulders. The stretch causes Steve’s shirt to ride up, leaving a sliver of his soft stomach bared, the muscles at the back of Steve’s upper arms (He told Eddie the correct term for them before, as if he was going to remember that..) bunch and stretch with each movement…and Eddie immediately wants to climb him like a tree.

“Eds, you got that?” his boyfriend says, sounding slightly out of breath as he continues to press his weight above his head.

“Steve.” Eddie breathes out.

Steve keeps going, concentrating on his movements.

Eddie tries again, “Stevie, darling. Either you need to stop. Or we need to leave.” 

“What?” he stops, carefully moving the weight back to his front and putting down onto the bench beside them. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” How could he not? Does he not know how he looks right now??

Eddie feels his cheeks flush hotter as Steve searches his face, his eyes dropping down.

“Oh—oh yep, yep, okay, lemme just–” Steve wastes no time re-racking their weights and grabbing a spray bottle of disinfectant and paper towel to clean off the bench they were using.

“C’mon, lets go,” he says in a low voice as he pulls Eddie by the hand out the door to their car, “You’re lucky you’re cute,”

Eddie only grins, letting himself be towed along.

my husband gave me these numbers! so this is based on my own love for my husband and his strong arms and shoulders that make me 🥵 when i go to the gym with him lolol

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #i hope the subtle twist at the beginning makes sense and also makes you laugh #st #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #prompt drabble #noelle writes

[outoutdamnspark]

god maybe i’m a bit late to the prompt thing and if i am feel free to ignore this but if not, could i get

[ SERVICE ]  our muses just showered together,  sender dries off receiver with a towel and kisses each part of them they dry as they go. 

with ingo x reader? with ingo being the one getting dried off…. he deserves to be taken care of :))

(@astererer I'm so sorry for the wait, friend.)

Ahhhhh!!!! I'm so glad you sent this in!!! TwT You are absolutely right, Ingo deserves all the pampering!

(Word count is 1,471. At this point I think these are all just turning into ficlets instead of drabbles...)

(Cw: none. Ingo x Reader. reader is genderless. no smut, only fluff. soft Ingo.)

===

Tender

Your husband is three hours late getting home. 

He leans against the doorframe as you come around the corner, slumped into the high collar of his coat with his cap pulled low over his eyes. His body language speaks of a long, tiresome day - of unruly passengers and rude challengers, schedule delays and endless paperwork. 

It tears at your heart. 

“Ingo?”

He looks up, miserably slow, at the sound of your voice; the bright silver of his eyes are a dull, exhausted grey in the shadow of his hat. “...Beloved,” he greets, voice unnaturally quiet. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips at the sight of you, relief trickling in to fill the hollow shadows beneath his eyes. “What are you still doing up?”

You frown. “I was worried about you.” 

Padding over on socked feet, you peer up at him under the brim of his cap and catch his tired gaze; you reach a careful hand towards him, pausing before you make contact, waiting for him to give you the ok. With a nod, he does, and your fingertips alight upon his cheek with a gentleness that makes him melt into your touch. 

Ingo nuzzles your hand with a sigh. You watch as his shoulders sag, the weight of the day dripping off them like sludge, and he in turn reaches up clutch at you, his hand over yours to keep it there, clinging like it’s the only thing holding him upright. 

You step closer until you’re pressed against him, humming in concern; he sinks into your warmth as you tuck yourself under his chin. His free arm wraps around you to hold you to him as he buries his face in your hair. 

“Are you hungry?” you whisper. You feel him shake his head no. 

You frown again, but let it be. Instead, you ask, “Think you can manage a shower?”

A few long seconds pass before you feel him shrug.

It’s enough. 

Gently, you steal his hat and then help him peel off his coat, hanging them up beside the door while he slips out of his shoes. You take his hand, and he follows along behind you like a lost lilipup to the bathroom, leaning against the counter for support when you have to let him go so you can let the water run warm.

“...I missed you,” he whimpers, and the sound of it is wrong in your normally boisterous husband’s mouth. 

His body bends forward like a branch under too much pressure, only a moment away from breaking, and you carefully slip between his knees to place your hands on his shoulders, letting them slide up along his neck to cup his face. You lean in, nuzzling your noses together as he lets out a shaky sigh. 

“I desperately wanted to come home; every time we settled one issue, another would–”

You silence him with the pad of your thumb against his lips. “Shhh.” You nuzzle him again, and replace your thumb with a gentle kiss. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “You’re here now, let me take care of you.”

He doesn’t reply with words, but you can feel his relief in the way he leans into you, weakly chasing your lips with his own as you pull away. 

You step back, and Ingo whines softly at the loss until your hands trail down his chest, picking at his shirt buttons one by one. You help him get undressed; your hands are kind and your touches light as you move them along his body, freeing him from the last dregs of a day gone wrong with each layer of cloth removed. Once he’s down to his underwear, you step back in and wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Do you need company or space?” you murmur into the side of his neck. You press the ghost of a kiss to his pulse. 

Ingo sighs quietly against your hair, his arms coming up to hold you closer. “Join me?” he asks. “Please.”

As if you could ever tell him no.

You give his waist a squeeze and breathe a quick, “okay,” before pulling back once more to peel away your own clothing. You catch him watching you with a look of fond amazement, and you know that if this were a different night, a better night, his hands would be on you, helping to undress you the way you’d done for him. But not tonight. Tonight, you shimmy out of your clothes at an even pace, letting him watch without keeping him waiting, and once the both of you are stripped bare, you take his hands and guide him under the shower’s warm spray. 

He stands facing away from the showerhead and leans his forehead against yours as the water cascades across his back and shoulders, easing the last of the tension from his tired, knotted muscles.

You brush your lips against his. “I’m glad you’re home.”

You stay there together, pressed close beneath the soothing warmth, uncaring about the length of time it takes for you to carefully delve your fingers into Ingo’s soft, silver hair and wash it clean of the stress of the day. He lets you run loving hands over the lines of his body, does the same to you - soft and sweet in your own private world as you help scrub away the last of the soap suds on his back and hips until all that’s left is the scent of warm summer rain that always lingers on his skin. 

Ingo sighs in resignation when you finally reach to turn off the water, and shivers slightly as the sudden change leaves a faint chill in the air. You kiss his shoulder in apology.

You wait until you’ve both stepped safely out of the shower before slipping away from him. “Wait here,” you tell him, quiet as a breath, only to return a moment later with the biggest, fluffiest towel the two of you own. 

You avoid his hand when he goes to reach for it, instead draping the towel over his head and playfully ruffle some of the moisture from his hair. He laughs softly, still too quiet, but it warms you like a campfire to hear it after the utter misery he’d been carrying before. 

“My love, I think I can–”

You pull the towel away from his face so you can lean up to kiss him, stealing his words clean away. 

“I know,” you whisper as you pull back. You press another kiss to his temple as you let the towel fall to his shoulders, gently wiping away the water that still clings to him. “Let me do this for you.”

You move the towel once more, trailing it over the column of his throat, down his shoulder blades, around to the planes of his chest, and drop your lips to follow along after it - a slow path of kisses at every place your touch alights. Ingo sighs against your hair, melting into your touch once more.

You dry off his left arm, then his right, ending with a kiss to each of his palms, his knuckles, his wrists. He tucks a wet strand of your hair behind your ear for you, and you offer him a smile before shifting to stand beside him, then behind him, kissing along the line of his shoulders you’d dried before but hadn’t been able to reach. As you brush the towel down the curve of his spine, he reaches back and gingerly steals one of your hands, bringing it around to his front so that you’re pressed to his back, arm around his waist and fingers entwined with his. You huff a laugh against his vertebrae and leave another kiss. 

“I’m not finished yet.”

Ingo hums. 

He lifts your combined hands to his lips and brushes them across your fingers reverently, before slowly turning until you’re chest to chest, adjusting his hold on your hand so that he doesn’t have to let you go. He tugs at the towel; with a fake pout, you let him take it. 

Ingo’s smile is tired and small, but real. “Indulge me,” he says, and while it’s still quiet, it’s better. 

The towel comes down upon your head in a mimic of before. You giggle as he gently ruffles your hair, squeezes the excess water from it, pets the dampness from your face and neck, and when he bends to kiss your forehead you intercept him with your lips against his own. 

“I love you,” you breathe into the kiss, smiling as Ingo tilts his head to deepen it. 

“I love you, too,” he sighs. “So much.”

And as you hold each other close, the towel slips from Ingo's hands to land upon the floor, momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your embrace.

#prompt drabble #ask box #dvd clown #astererer #ingo x reader #subway master ingo #spark writes #spark queues

[nayeliq1]

Dreamy Drabbles

Collection post for the drabble challenge hosted by the wonderful @starcrosseddeancas  

June 5h: Dream

June 6th: Lies

June 7th: Stars

June 8th: Touch

June 9th: Cowboy Boots

June 10th: Lonely

June 11th: Tied-Up

June 12th: Adventure

#dreamy drabbles #dreamydrabble #dreamy drabble collection #collection post #drabble collection #destiel drabble #spn drabble #destiel #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #my writing #prompt drabble

[wtnvwritings]

Hello! I was reading through your writings, which are absolutely amazing, and something has occurred to me. Kevin apparently doesn't dream because of Strex, but reader definitely does, and that is going to be rough for them soon after arriving in Desert Bluffs. It's probably made worse by the fact that nobody in Desert Bluffs apparently has nightmares anymore, and I think it's a neat conflict. This is probably a bit rambly, but I hope I got the point across alright. Thank you for your time and have a great rest of your day!

Sleep.

It is something that most creatures eventually need to do--to fall into a deep slumber and allow themselves the gentle but temporary respite from the waking hours of reality. For some, it is a time of growth and healing, of separation from moments of sadness and pain that grow farther with every evening of soft unconsciousness.

For most, to sleep is to dream.

To dream is to experience the wonders of a truly unhindered imagination, letting it wander deep into the dark sea of endless possibilities. One may re-experience the memories of moments long-since passed, or perhaps play out the nervous future that is yet to come. When one dreams, it is with the endless freedom that is rarely ever allowed by the universe then they are awake--a freedom that can never be stolen away.

Or so you once thought.

With every passing evening pulling you farther from the moment you stepped foot into Desert Bluffs, your nocturnal sea becomes more muddied and indistinct. Once you had seen colors beyond wonder, heard noises of symphonic beauty, felt the rush of life... But now, even the dreams themselves feel like distant memories that are barely whispers upon the wind.

Nobody dreams in Desert Bluffs, or so you had found out. Nobody has nightmares either.

From the waking weight of a thousand suns, Strexcorp reaches its claws of numbers and progress and productivity deep into the unconscious psyche of the entire town. It drains the color, the sound, the sense of joy and leaving nothing but a brief and dark silence that is sharply broken by the shrill noise of an alarm clock long before the sun has begun to rise.

You remember what it feels like to dream, like someone trying to recall a story told by someone who themselves had nearly forgotten it. The rest of Desert Bluff is not nearly as lucky however, since most of them can't so much as comprehend the concept of such blissful freedoms outside the pressure their jobs have over them from one day to the next.

When you had admitted as much to Kevin, you remember him looking upon you with the strangest expression, bittersweet and silent. It would be a long time before you would come to recognize that look as one of both longing and pain.

"You'll get used to it," is all he could offer in assurance with a smile that, despite the scars, never reached his eyes at all.

#wtnv #writing #drabble #prompt drabble #kevin drabble #wtnv kevin #kevin wtnv #i forgot my own tags #ngl this one really made me think #something oddly ethereal in the concept of dreams themselves being stolen away

[blue-aconite]

Silver Paths and Golden Crowns || prompt

Based on this prompt. Saw it, reblogged it and then it wouldn’t leave me alone! Thanks to my betas; @yanna-banana​ @wkndwlff​ @imjess-themess​

Word Count 2.1k

“Goodnight Mrs. Herman. If you need anything, just press the button!” You smiled widely, closing the door. Mrs. Herman was your last stop for the night unless an emergency occurred. You and your colleagues checked in on the residents one more time before 9 pm  and then they were left alone for the rest of the night. 

Standing outside the door for a moment, you took a deep breath. Night shifts were rough and recently, work had been tougher. In the last four months, the facility had lost five people due to unknown causes. It had put a strain on all of the personnel, as well as the remaining residents. They were scared, whispers of an untreatable disease. They liked to gossip, which made matters even worse.

And the cat didn’t make it easier. A couple of days before the first death, a black and white kitten  showed up at the facility, roaming around the hallways. No one had ever seen the animal before. He didn’t belong to anyone, since pets weren't allowed. He didn’t bother anyone but didn’t let himself be caught either. 

The cat followed Mr. Snow around for the whole day, stroking around his legs and cuddling into his lap. When night fell, the cat followed him into his room, making himself at home on the bed. And when morning came, Mr. Snow was found dead in his bed. The cat was sleeping soundly at the foot of the bed, only leaving when the funeral home came to take the body away. Then it disappeared. 

No one could find the little feline. It was like he had vanished into thin air. A couple of weeks passed and then he showed up again. Once again, he roamed the hallways, charming the residents. This time he followed Mrs. Patricks around, behaving similarly to how he had done with Mr. Snow. And in the same manner that you had lost Mr. Snow, you lost Mrs. Patricks. And the cat disappeared again. 

After the second death, the rumours began. And when the cat reappeared another three times and three more deaths occurred, it fueled the gossip even more. 

Some said the cat was the reaper, coming to collect his due in another form. Some said he was a bad omen, bringing death and sickness with him. Few said he was simply a guardian angel, sent to guide the dead to the other side. 

Either way, the personnel tried their best to calm the situation down. You told countless residents that the cat was simply a coincidence, but even you had trouble believing your own words. 

A soft meow startled you out of your thoughts and you looked down to see the little cat sitting by your feet. His white ears and paws were a contrast to his night-black fur. He looked up at you with his green eyes, an almost sad shadow passing over them. He nuzzled against your leg, chirping gently. 

You tried to shoo him away but it didn’t work. As you moved towards the lounge, the cat followed. There was no one in the lounge but you spied your coworkers in the kitchen. Taking a seat, the cat hopped onto your lap and made himself comfortable. You tried to move him but he wouldn’t budge. Each time you moved him, he simply climbed back into your lap. He purred happily, not bothered by your tries to get him to leave you alone. 

You eventually gave up, letting him snooze off in your lap while your hands shook. Panic clawed at your throat, making your heart thud harshly against your ribcage. You desperately tried to calm down but it was fruitless.

Although you didn’t fully believe in the rumours surrounding the cat, you couldn’t help but worry. Why had he appeared again? And why was he following you?

The night shift personnel eventually came to relieve you from your shift but right before they did, the cat gently hopped off your lap and disappeared into the night. A breath you didn’t know you were holding left you. Maybe it was just a coincidence then. Maybe the cat just liked you. 

The drive home was short and you kicked your shoes off the moment you got inside. Your feet was aching from walking around all day and you made a mental reminder to buy better shoes. Grabbing a bottle of water, you headed upstairs to get ready for bed. 

You stopped short in the doorway to your bedroom, jaw clamping shut at the sight of the cat lounging on your bed. Frantically you turned to the window, only to find it shut and locked. There was no explanation for how he had gotten in. But there he was, stretching on the bed like he always had lived here. 

Closing you eyes, you desperately hoped the cat would be gone when you opened them again. But he wasn’t. 

You brushed your teeth with shaking hands and a pounding heart, dread spreading through your body. Going through your nighttime routine slowly, you tried to delay the inevitable. 

It wasn’t your time. You weren’t ready. There was still so much you wanted to do, so much you wanted to see. There was a whole world out there for you to discover and now you wouldn’t get the chance. 

The cat was still there when you returned to the bedroom and you had no choice but to crawl under the covers. He immediately moved to your chest, snuggling into the warmth your body provided. 

As scared as you were to close your eyes, an odd calm settled over you along with the cat making himself comfortable. Heaviness upon your eyelids forced them to close, and your breath shook as you felt the familiar comfort of sleep creeping up on you. You silently prayed that you would wake up in the morning, right before the darkness devoured you. 

“Welcome, my child.” You opened your eyes to a green field and a cloudless sky. Turning around, you found a man smiling at you, seated on a bench under a cherry tree. The tree was in full blossom, its pink petals colouring the ground. 

The man was slightly familiar, though you couldn’t put your finger on where you had seen him before. His smile widened as you studied him, gesturing for you to come closer. Your feet moved on their own before you could think and suddenly you were standing before him. 

Upon closer inspection, you realised from where you recognised him. Only he was different now. But the green eyes remained the same. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, looking slightly rumpled. His shoes were a bright white, as were the gloves he wore.

“It’s you. You're the cat.” You exclaimed, taking a step back.

The man only smiled again, removing the gloves. “Indeed I am my dear, indeed I am. Please, come, sit with me.” He patted the oak bench. His green eyes sparkled in the sunlight and you watched as he picked up a few petals. 

“Where am I?”

“You tell me. You choose this place. I am but a willing passenger on your journey.” The man spoke, the timbre of his voice shifting. 

“What does that even mean? You’re the one killing people!” You pointed a finger his way, accusation in your voice. The man only shook his head, before rising from his seat. In the same way the cat had stretched out on your bed, he stretched his body. The similarities between animal and human was startling, and it only served to make you more anxious. 

“No my dear. I am not the one killing them. My job is to protect, to guide. I’m a servant to the living, spending my time helping mankind. It is my purpose. To guide you.”

“Guide me where? You still haven’t told me what this place is!” 

He spread out his arms, that sly smile in place on his face. “This is not a place, my dear, only a part of your journey. It’s a phase, a moment in time. You’ve made it into a place, dear heart. You humans and your need for things to make sense.” He spoke with more urgency, a quiet storm twisted in his words.

A rustling to your left had you whipping around, eyes wide as a woman emerged from the treeline.

“Folkvar, my moon, calm. Remember, you must give them time. Patience.” If you thought the man spoke softly before, it was nothing compared to the woman. She glided through the meadow, a trail of silvery dust following her. 

“Forgive me Salvi, my sun, but they must understand!” the man, whose name you guessed was Folkvar, chided gently as he met her halfway.

“And they will, with time. We can't rush this moment. You know what will happen if we do.” She grasped his hand in hers, bringing them to her lips in a soft kiss. “They cannot remain here for long, they must move forward.” He spoke, returning her kiss.

“I want to go home. Whatever this is, whatever bizarre dream this is, I want out. Please, let me go home.” You pleaded, for the first time approaching them. 

The woman, Salvi, smiled sadly, the golden tiara shining brightly in the sun. Folkvar shared her pained expression, their hands clasped together as they stood side by side. 

“You cannot go home, dear heart. You’ve been chosen, child, and you now have two options. Move forward, or stay. The choice is yours.” Salvi spoke, reaching out to cup your face with her free hand. Her touch was gentle and you leaned into it, the panic and distress slowly ebbing away. 

“What will happen if I stay?” You were fairly sure you knew the answer but you needed to hear them say it. It would make it more real. 

Folkvar guided you towards the bench, kneeling before you. “Dear child, I think you know. If you choose to stay, we will send for Omisha and she will guide you to eternal rest. You will get your peace. Should you choose to move on, well, the journey you’ll embark on will tell. It’s different for all of us.” 

You rubbed your temples, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” You knew that for sure but asking felt better.

“Yes my child, you are. But you must think of it as a gift. Only a few are given a choice. You, my dear, are special. Oziel himself has chosen you, and you’re blessed by Atlas and Pella. We urge you to use the gifts bestowed on you.” Salvi collapsed your hand in hers, eyes a blazing gold as she spoke. 

“What gifts?” You asked, taking a deep breath. “We do not know, child. Each is different, and it is not our job to know. We simply are. We’re here for you, to guide. The rest is up to you. Maybe you’ll choose, or they will be given to you. Patience is key, as I try to remind Folkvar.” 

Salvi laughed, a sweet melody as she let go of your hands, rising again. Folkvar joined her side, and they curled together, much like two cats. 

“Where should I go?” Folkvar raised a hand, waving toward the other side of the meadow. “Follow the path, it won’t lead you astray. Cross the treeline. I can tell you no more than that.”

A calm spread throughout your body as you passed them, walking slowly towards the tall trees. Salvi and Folkvar remained in their place, eyes sparkling as they watched you go. Each step felt easier and soon you stood before the great trees. You could feel it calling out to you, something on the other side. Turning back, you asked the question that had been on your mind for a while. 

“Folkvar. Why a cat?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you. He laughed, head thrown back.

“Why not? Cherished by many, feared as well. Lithe and small, a friend if you need. A blessed creature, worshipped and loved. A dark demon, bearing bad luck and death.” You shook your head at his answer, no wiser than you had been a moment ago. “Will I be able to choose?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It happens without thought. Good luck, dear heart. May Ehno watch over you on your travels. We will meet again. Your journey has just begun. If you need it, only close your eyes and think of us.” With that you watched as the light absorbed them, shielding your eyes from the brightness. As it subsided, you spied two cats walking down another path. Smiling, you raised your hand in goodbye before taking the first step into the trees.

Tagging some friends; @wildbornsiren @therebeccaw @imjess-themess @antiquitea @fuckyeahhangman @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @princessphilly @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @whoreforseresin​ 

#fe writes #prompt #prompt drabble #prompt blurb

[spinderella-umbrella]

Once upon a time, in an alternate universe, Peter’s idolisation of Sirius’ worst nightmare of a person leads to a very different path for the marauders, from the very start.

A Peter Pettigrew Project Prompt, What if the Marauders had never accepted Peter as a friend?

Peter is so excited to finally be going to Hogwarts. As soon as he gets to platform 9 and ¾, he yanks off his coat, revealing the uniform he was wearing underneath, and the scarf in the colours that represent his newfound hero, Salazar Slytherin.

It had been a lonely summer, and after he got his letter, Peter devoured the Hogwarts history books, learning everything there was to know about the school he was about to go to including long standing legacy families.

So when he saw Sirius Black on the platform, knowing he was starting the same year as him in Peter bounds up to him excitedly.

“Hi! I’m Peter Pettrigrew, I’m starting this year at Hogwarts too!”

Sirius narrows his eyes at Peter, his nose raised, holding himself in a way that could only be described as “haughty”.

He doesn’t even respond to Peter. There are people watching the interaction, as Peter shifts uncomfortably, but he doesn’t let his smile falter.

He lifts his scarf, Green and Silver, with pride. “I’m hoping to get into Slytherin. Salazar was just so cool.” Peter gushes, and Sirius raises a perfect black brow at him, crossing his arms.

Oh no.

Sirius glances over his shoulder, eyes catching on someone, and he says–

“Potter, if I get placed in Slytherin, please just kill me. It might please my family, but to me, it will be a great embarrassment.”

Sirius turns back to Peter, a smirk on his face.

“Sure, Black.” Potter affirms, and Peter is confused, because their families are supposed to hate each other. How do they even know each other? Didn’t they all just get here? Or maybe he’s really saying he’d be happy to kill Sirius.

Either way, Peter is mortified, his face red with embarrassment. “Oh, okay,” he says quietly, fiddling with his scarf nervously. He feels like a bit of an idiot for even wearing it, now. He isn’t in Slytherin yet, after all.

Someone snorts behind him. “Look at this ickle first year, repping Salazars colours when he’s not even sorted yet.”

His embarrassment well and truly solidified, Peter tugs the scarf from his neck and holds it in his hands, twisting.

Sirius smirks wider, teeth flashing as he catches the movement. “You might be pleased to know, Pettigrew, that the hat has a long history of sorting cowards into Slytherin. If you want something and you believe in something, you stand by your choice, by your beliefs, no matter what other people think.”

Peter swallows, and Sirius sighs. “Well, I’ve hit my quota for public service for today. Come on Potter,” He says, walking towards the train without a glance for Peter, and without looking back to see if James Potter is following him. Because of course he is.

#peter pettigrew project #Sirius black #Peter pettigrew #Drabble #prompt Drabble #marauders #maraudersfanfiction #james potter #slytherin #house rivalries #what if Wednesday

[freddie-mercury-rising]

Freddie and Jim are at a party and Jim finds himself on a sofa, surrounded by a group of young men who he doesn’t realise are trying to get into his pants. Cue Freddie grumbling in the corner while Joe teases him about Jim’s new “harem.”

Jim’s Harem (link to AO3)

Thanks so much! This was super fun. 😍

#freddie mercury #Jim button #jimercury #Drabble #fan fiction #fan fic #prompt fic #prompt drabble

[hailbop1701]

Octane

Hawaii Five-0 Prompt Drabble:

Keyword: Control

Word Count: 978

This one has been on my mind for quite some time. I always figured Danny was pretty good undercover and I wanted to explore that a little bit. No beta, you know how that goes. 🤙

She often wondered how she ended up in situations like this.

Kono blanched as she held on for dear life. She had one hand braced on the dash in front of her while the other white-knuckled the door handle at her side. Her eyes were wide with pure surprise and proud adrenaline-fueled glee; she had no idea that something like this would ever happen! With an almost hysterical laugh, she glanced over just in time to see Danny shift gears with ease. He was in complete and total control of the car as if it was an extension of himself.

According to Steve, all Danny did was shout and complain at him for driving way too fast. Kono figured out there was a reason for it; Danny hadn’t been the one driving. He may gripe and say that McGarrett was a control freak but Danny was almost just as bad. This was the first time she had really seen Danny in a solid month, he had been under deep cover with a group of street racers and car thieves.

Kono gripped the handle tighter as the car accelerated; Danny pushed so they were leagues ahead of the other competitors. Kono gritted her teeth biting back a yelp and a burst of laughter when he made a sharp drifting turn. She couldn’t wait to tell Steve all that she had learned about Danny, despite the rant of epic proportions the Detective would hand out. Danny couldn’t hide and flounder now that they were both on the line; Kono wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place after all.

Steve had gotten worried when Danny didn’t check in on time or even the days after. With his identity blown, Steve had decided that Kono would be the one to go check up on their favorite Haole. Once she was at one of the underground races, Kono was in awe.

It had been a surreal experience especially when she saw Danny leaning against an older model of his Camaro wearing a carefree smile as he talked to their main suspect, Jax Calder. Casually she had moved through the crowd wearing a flirty smile and an outfit that left little to the imagination. Her eyes scanned the party goers and racers with an internal snort, in the end, her choice of wardrobe was considered modest.

She had passed by Danny catching his eye. She knew he saw her by the way his head cocked to the side subtly with a toothy grin. Jax followed his gaze and grinned as Kono looked down plastering a shy smile on her own face. Calder nudged her friend with an elbow and a snicker, “I see how it is man, go on.”

Danny watched Jax leave and meet up with others from the group before heading toward Kono, this time though his smile was gone. Suddenly she felt like a child up way past her bedtime. Danny gently took her arm and steered her away from the crowd and back toward his car. “Kono,” he all but growled and her flirty smile became sheepish.

“You can’t be here.” he hissed making sure to block them both from view by opening the passenger side door for her. Getting into the black 67’ Camaro she looked up at him making sure to keep her voice low,

“Steve got worried.”

Danny rolled his eyes and sighed, “I don’t check in on time once and he sends in the calvary. Believe it or not, I know what I’m doing.” he shut the door with a slam. He rounded the car and got into the driver's seat,

“We haven’t heard from you in days brah,” Kono intoned making a show of buckling up. Danny gripped the wheel, taking a deep breath he put on his own seatbelt before looking over at her.

“I know but if Mr. I-need-to-control-everything waited one more day I would have called. These guys are more dangerous than we originally thought. Calder is only the middle man, someone else is pulling the strings. Someone whose a bit more brutal when it comes to dealing with his crew and those who get in his way…” he said trailing off and letting the new information sink in. Kono’s brows furrowed,

“What do you mean?”

Danny clicked his tongue as he started the engine, “I mean you’re in until you die by a bullet or a fiery blaze of glory.” he ground out remembering the kid who had been shot the previous night with a flinch. Kono gaped at him her mouth hanging open for a second then snapping it shut.

A loud tap at the driver's side window made her jump. Danny turned and rolled down the window with an easy-going attitude that she had never expected from him. “Hey man,” Jax leaned down resting his forearm on the car, he shot Kono a wink and a smile. Turning his attention to Danny they bumped fists,

“Win this race and you got the rest of the night. Just don’t be late tomorrow, we uh got a new girl coming in and the Boss wants her ready for send off.” he said and Danny nodded,

“I’ll be there, bright-eyed and satisfied babe,”

Jax cackled bumping fists with Danny again, with a happy nod of approval he moved away from the car. Rolling up his dark tinted window Danny rolled his eyes muttering “Schmuck,” under his breath.

And that was how Kono found herself speeding at over a hundred down Kamehameha highway with a storm on the horizon. She was glad that she trusted Danny with her life otherwise, she would have been scared out of her mind.

He needed to win the race so she could get back to Steve. The head of Five-0 wasn’t going to be happy that his partner and best friend is deep, deep trouble.

#hawaii five 0 #h50 #h50 fandom #danny danno williams #danny williams #kono kalakaua #steve mcgarrett mention #prompt drabble #hailey the queen of typos #no beta #bamf danny williams

[gl1tteryzebra]

Rafe + belly bulge size kink🤷‍♀️ maybe he pushes on her lower belly🫢

Idk haven't seen that with rafe

this has me 🫠🫠🫠

you'd suggested the new position to rafe after a friend spent the better half of an hour raving about how it had her seeing entire constellations in the span of a few minutes– and the blonde was more than willing to oblige.

it wasn't anything crazy, really; your lower back was hoisted off the bed by a stack of pillows, allowing rafe to reach depths you never knew existed.

his thrust were slow, measured, drawing breathy ah's from your mouth with each rocking motion. his plump lips were moving, asking you something, however your brain had turned to mush– his question struggling to bypass the dandelion fluff coating your ears. all you could focus on was the rhythmic squeak of your bed frame, the trail of heat left by his burning kisses, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist...

and then everything stilled. there was a strange pressure on your lower abdomen, not unpleasant but foreign. the sensation sending prickles down your spine, your warm walls involuntarily clenching as your eyes shot open to be met with his darkening blue orbs.

"that got your attention, huh?"

"rafe...wha–" you could only let out a choked moan as he did it again, hissing through his teeth as you tightened around him.

"look," his ring clad fingers curled around your chin, forcing your gaze down. there– even with your cloudy mind –you saw it. below your bellybutton was a small lump protruding from the skin of your tummy. your eyes widened as he rolled forward as if to demonstrate, his cock visibly shifting within you. "you sure you can handle this dick, babe? looks like 'm 'bouta split you open."

he began to flick his hips forward again, lewdly tracing the outline over your stomach, entranced by the sight of your body's morphing into one. "ra–mmph!"

"fucked you so good you can't even think, that's cute, real cute," he pressed down again, and this time stars exploded behind your eyes, toes curling as mouth fell open in a state of shock– you never came that fast.

“fuck me." he groaned, continuing to shallowly fuck you through it as laboured breaths slowly returned to normal.

"gotta thank that friend of yours," you nodded your dazed head in agreement. "now lem'me get my fill."

sincerely ~ 🦓༝༚༝༚

#rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #divider by @fairytopea #fem reader

[theworldofotps]

Hand Necklace (Drabble Prompt)

Pairing: Damian Priest x FemReader Word Count: 738 Prompt: "You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Here you go anon thank you so much for requesting I hope you enjoy it and don't mind the little spin I put on it. ______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex​ @biforrollynch​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred9​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _____

“I fucking hate him.”

Slamming your suitcase shut, you shook your head in frustration as Rhea packed up her toiletries bag. You know coming to Damian’s best friend about him probably wasn’t the best idea; but Rhea was your friend too and hopefully she’d be able to give some advice.

“You know I never did understand why you two don’t get along I mean I’ve seen people hate each other but you two are on a completely different level. What’s up with that?”

“He drives me crazy! Always with his little snide remarks, how he thinks I should be extra wrap yourself in bubble wrap careful because I’m smaller than him I may get hurt than where would I be. And it’s always remarks about how I annoy him plus the millions of other things.”

Rhea listened to you animatedly talking an amused smile crossing her face, she knew something that you and Damian probably didn’t yet. The two of you had some major sexual tension and she had even spoken with a Finn about it who readily agreed. The way you and Damian were constantly bickering and trying to one up the other with words. She truly believed deep down it was because you guys had some hidden feelings.

“I just really want to hit him, preferably over the head with a chair.”

“Maybe you both need to get laid, work off your frustration through sex not fighting each other.”

Hearing the words out of the Aussie woman’s mouth had you stopping in your tracks mouth agape as you looked at her.

“No way could I sleep with Damian are you kidding me? He’s so…well you know and just absolutely could never happen.”

“Babes, I never said sleep with Damian I just said the two of you need to get laid but it’s very interesting you automatically assume I meant sleep with him.”

She smirked causing your face to heat up as you zipped your case shut and pointed a finger at her.

“Don’t even think about spinning any narratives Ripley I mean it I will kick your ass.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

Rhea winked, walking over when a knock sounded on the locker room door. Stepping back, you frowned when Damian stepped past her his eyes zeroing in on you.”

“Sorry didn’t realize you were busy with..her I can just come back.”

“No, it’s fine I just need to get something from Becks why don’t you wait here and then we can head out.”

Without giving either of you a chance to respond Rhea quickly left slamming the door behind her. Huffing, you went about collecting the rest of your things, doing your best to ignore Damian which wasn’t an easy feat.

“Are you going to just stand in the way or sit the fuck down?”

You asked, trying to slip past him to grab your phone charger Damian continued to block your way and when you looked up you were startled to see his eyes were darker than normal.

“Why don’t you try asking nicer?”

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?”

Pushing past him you picked up your charger and freeze when he spoke again.

“Bend over and I will.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening as you slowly turned to look at him, a brow raised.

“Excuse me?”

Slowly he walked over to you and watched as you backed up right into the wall a smirk crossing his face as he leaned closer to you.

“I said, bend over and I will.”

Gulping you clear your throat avoiding his gaze.

“No thanks I’d rather be hit by a car.”

“How long are we going to play this game princesa?”

“What game?”

“The one where we pretend to hate each other when deep down I think we both know we want nothing more than to fuck each other.”

His voice had dropped to a low whisper that had your thighs clenching as he leaned close. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder then pulled back tilting his head a few times.

“What?”

“Just thinking and you know what? You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Your eyes widen as his hand captured your neck and his lips crashed into yours a hot needy kiss that left you both panting for air and heated with desire.

“My hotel room, 208 soon as you get there.”

“Okay…I’ll be there.”

#damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest fanfic #prompt drabble #enemies to lovers

[belovedvenom]

got the urge to do the 'orange peel theory' trend with rafe "can you peel this for me?" 

rafe laying on your bed, just minding his business when you come holding an orange next to his face. he doesn't even spare you a glance before muttering "no" concentrating on finishing whatever business he's doing on his phone.

"rafe" you whine, bottom lip pouted. "please?" 

"you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself" “but my nails.. i just got them done, i don’t want to ruin them” his right eye twitches as he ignores you, being his usual grumpy ole self. you huff and attempt to peel the orange yourself, trying to use the pads of your fingers instead of your nails. you don’t notice the side eye he's giving you. tongue in cheek, as he watches you struggle, but just before you can throw a fit, it’s aggressively snatched from your hands making you jump a bit. he sits on the edge of your bed and starts to peel it for you. “thank you rafey” you smile sweetly. "yeah yeah -just need me to do everything for you huh baby” letting out a low chuckle. he finishes and tosses the peel in the trash and hands you the oranges but not before eating a couple making you whine. he tugs you by the hair, bringing your face down to his. “are there any other problems you want me to solve for you?” staring at him with big lovey dovey doe eyes, bottom lip tucked in between your teeth as you shake your head ‘no’. his lips press flat as he hums, tilting his head a bit “a’ight now” lips hovering over yours, he calls you a spoilt brat before puling you into a deep kiss. 

#this is my first time writing for him #is this any good.. should he have been meaner about it. #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #outer banks #drew starkey

[outoutdamnspark]

Promise

Prompt drabble for @bubblymilkgalaxy, who requested “  you don’t have to deal with this alone.  ” with their lovely OC, Sugi.

(Sadly, tumblr apparently friggen ate my post when I went to save it as a draft, so we’re doing this, instead. >_<)

--

(word count is 1,894?!)

This got much longer than I intended it to, but uhhhh. Considering how patient you’ve been and that you’ve been waiting over a week for this, I’m pretty okay with the length. 😅

Thank you so much for the ptompt, and thank you for letting me write your OC! (Sugi is the absolute sweetest, I love her~)

(CW: fluff and warm-fuzzy feelings. Ingo holds a baby.)

For added softness, here’s what I was listening to while I wrote~

===

It’s late when he arrives in Jubilife. 

The lanterns have already been lit, the streets bathed in their warm glow as the sun finishes setting; Ingo is thankful for their light as he takes the steps up to Galaxy Hall two at a time.

He makes his way inside, so focused on reaching his destination that he seems locked in a stupor, and he breezes down the corridor so swiftly that he very nearly doesn’t notice the woman standing firm in the doorway until he almost runs directly into her.

Ingo blinks. 

Miss Pesselle is barring his way.

Ingo feels his face beginning to burn with embarrassment. “I… I apologize, Ma’am,” he starts. He pauses to clear his throat, his voice dry and gravely from lack of recent use. 

But the medic arches a brow at him, holding his next stumbling words in place inside his mouth. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to slow down, Warden.” Her tone is stern, though not unkind, and she tilts her chin ever-so-slightly in a way that softens her expression. “I know you’re eager, and it’s incredibly sweet.” She nods behind her, into the room and its hidden occupant. “But please keep in mind the stress they’ve both just gone through?”

Ingo swallows thickly. He attempts to peer around Pesselle’s shoulder to see inside the room behind her, but she leans her weight to the side to obscure his line of sight.

Ingo curls his fingers against his palms to try and ground himself, wishing he had a way to shake out the excess nervous energy that wouldn’t come off as overly rude.

“Is she…? Did… Are they…?”

The medic huffs, shaking her head with a faint smile. “They’re both fine, Warden. I’d have told you if they weren’t.” 

Finally, finally, she steps aside, though she holds up a hand to stall him just long enough to say, “Farthest bed back, and remember, calm; she’s exhausted.” Pesselle drops her hand and nods once more, waving him on through. Ingo has just barely passed her when she murmurs, “Congratulations on the daughter, by the way.”

Ingo ducks his face, tugging the brim of his cap down to hide the new blush searing across his cheeks, and hurries further into the room. He focuses on the bed at the very back near the wall, still mostly hidden behind the privacy screen, and tries to ignore both Pesselle’s chuckling and his own pounding heart. 

‘Daughter…?’

(He knows he should feel guilty for the rush of warm fondness the thought brings to him, but finds he simply… can’t.)

Ingo slows his steps as he nears the bed, softening his footfalls. His hand trembles slightly as he places it on the edge of the privacy screen to help him round it; his breath steals as he steps inside. 

“...Oh.”

Miss Sugi looks up at the sound of his quiet exclamation. She looks tired, tousled, but otherwise alright. For a moment she seems mildly startled - then, softly, like a gentle dawn, a smile blooms across her face. “Mr. Ingo!”

Ingo releases the breath trapped in his lungs and slowly sinks into a waiting chair beside the bed. Relief pools like a tincture in his chest, bidding him to reach out and wrap an arm around his dear friend’s shoulders, pulling her into a careful hug. 

“Oh thank Sinnoh,” he breathes; “I was so worried.”

Sugi laughs as she hugs him back with one arm, the sound quiet and sweet as stream water. “Thank you,” she whispers against his temple. “For coming all this way.” She lets him cling to her for a few long moments before leaning back out of his hold to prop herself up against the bed pillows. 

“Of course, Miss Sugi.” He lets her pull away, sitting back in his chair so that he isn’t hovering over her. His lips tug upwards at the corners into a faint, fond smile. 

She returns it, and despite the exhaustion making its home in the shape of her, the warmth and gratitude are clear. 

Shifting her grip on the small, blanket-wrapped bundle nestled in the crook of her arm, Sugi holds it out towards him. “Would you like to hold her?” she asks, carefully tucking the edge of the blanket away from the baby’s face.

Ingo feels his heart flutter. His hands raise without his bidding, fingers twitching slightly as he holds himself back from something he hadn’t realized until this very moment that he (evidently) desperately wants. He swallows. “Are… are you certain?” He looks from the swaddled babe up to Sugi’s face, eyes wide and hopeful even through his trepidation.

Sugi just nods, a soft laugh trickling from her lips. 

Ingo’s hands tremble. He reaches for the precious passenger held securely in his companion’s arms - terrified and excited in equal measure, in a quiet sort of way that causes him to hesitate several times. He reaches, then pulls away, only to reach again, until his fear and gentle want break even, and Sugi takes matters into her own hands by reaching one out to catch at Ingo’s own. 

“Here,” she tells him, pressing the child into the bend of his elbow and maneuvering his arms until they’re curled just so. “Like this.” She slips her hands away, leaving Ingo to hold the most priceless treasure he’s ever been unworthy to hold. 

Warm.

The babe in his arms is warm and weighty and oh, so alive - even sound asleep, squirming unconsciously closer to where his heartbeat thumps against the inside of his chest. He stares down at it in disbelief, and feels something that had once been hollow inside him, for so long that he’d grown used to it, finally fill to the brim. 

“What’s her name?” he asks, surprised and yet not to hear the quaver in his voice.

(He does not see the way that Sugi watches them both - soft, proud, adoring, but also tinged with worry. Her eyes turn sad at the corners, and she dips her head to hide it from him lest he look back up.)

“...Nary,” she says at length.

Ingo doesn’t notice the pause before her answer, too preoccupied with brushing the back of one finger down the sleeping baby’s cheek. “Nary…” he repeats in wonder. When he lifts his gaze to Sugi, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. “Bravo, Miss Sugi.”

She smiles at him, though it’s strained, tight; this one, Ingo notices. 

“...Miss Sugi?”

Sugi sighs. Looking down at her newborn daughter in Ingo’s hands, she wrings her own in the bedsheets. It takes her a moment to speak, but Ingo is patient and waits for her to find her words.

“They think she’s yours. The… Everyone.”

Ingo blinks. This is not a particularly new development; he’s heard people refer to him and Sugi as husband and wife before, remembers how not ten minutes ago, Pesselle had congratulated him on the birth of “his” daughter. It has never really bothered him before, but thinking on it now, he realizes that perhaps his own ambivalence towards the misconception is not a shared sentiment. 

(And yet, he cannot deny the way the thought of fatherhood makes something deep in his heart seem to calm - like the sea settling after a storm, or the quietude of night as it falls.)

The warden purses his lips, natural frown turning further downward. “I…” He pauses, thinking of what to say. Taking a deep breath, he gently shifts little Nary in his hold, rocking her slowly to help himself ground. “It does not bother me,” he confesses. “And if it would help you both in any way, then I will happily play the role.” He risks a glance back up at his friend, trying to read her expression, but Sugi’s head is still tucked down.

Ingo presses on. “I say this with no expectations. You are very dear to me; I simply wish to be allowed to stay at your side.” He flicks his gaze back to the tiny girl pressed over his heart. “Both of you. If… if you will let me.”

He keeps his eyes on Nary - precious thing - and gives Sugi time unobserved to process his words. He is rewarded by the faint, watery sound of his friend inhaling through parted lips. 

“...They’ll talk,” she whispers. 

Ingo lifts his eyes slightly, just enough to watch Sugi’s hands twist the blanket into anxious knots. Slowly, he nods. “They will,” he agrees - because it’s true, the village seems to thrive on gossip at times. “But then again, they always do, about anyone that isn’t themselves.”

Sugi snorts in reply, though the sound is pained. “She doesn’t look like you.” She finally looks up from her hands, settling her gaze on Nary instead. 

It’s enough for Ingo to see her face. 

Adjusting his arms until he can safely free one of his hands, Ingo reaches out and places it over one of Sugi’s own, his lips tilting up at the corners in a tiny, genuine smile. “We will think of something.” He gives her hand a careful, timid squeeze.

But instead of his words comforting her, Sugi sucks in a shaky breath and shakes her head sadly. “I don’t want them whispering about you,” she admits, voice little more than a rasp. “You’ve been nothing but kind since we met - you don’t deserve–”

Ingo can already see where this is going, can see the worry mixing with her exhaustion, can see his friend beginning to spiral; he squeezes her hand again and shushes her quietly. “Miss Sugi,” he calls gently. He rubs his thumb across the backs of her fingers in a slow, soothing rhythm. “I am quite accustomed to being gossiped about. It is simply a product of my existence as a stranger to these lands.” He tries to stretch his smile into something reassuring, hopes it’s successful. “And regardless of time and familiarity, I am, at the root of it all, an outsider. People will think what they will of me, and I have long since accepted this as fact.”

The warden tilts his head further, ducking slightly, willing his friend to meet his eyes and see how sincere he is. “I am unbothered,” he repeats. His smile slips away, back into a frown. “But… I also understand that my own situation is much different than yours. If you would rather I stay aw–”

And now it’s Ingo’s turn to be interrupted. 

“No!” Sugi softly gasps, her own hand turning under Ingo’s and catching at it anxiously. Her head comes up from her chest and she stares at him with wide, misty eyes. “Please no. Please don’t leave.”

Slowly, so, so slowly, afraid to push too far and overstep, Ingo folds their hands together, palm to palm. He does not entwine their fingers; he does not know if that would be too informal. 

“You have my word, Miss Sugi.” With that same careful slowness, Ingo’s smile creeps back up at the corners of his mouth, honest and quiet. “I am not going anywhere.”

Sugi doesn’t answer him with words at first; instead, she clutches his hand tightly in a trembling grip and allows the tension to drain from her stiff and shaking shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Of course,” he whispers back. His smile grows infinitesimally wider.

“I’d never leave you to do this alone.”

Not much is said after that. Ingo sits at his friend’s bedside until she slips into much needed sleep, and cradles a daughter that is not his own but already loves as if she were.

#ask box #prompt drabble #(not my) oc sugi #pure fluff #found family trope? #cw babies #cw mentions of childbirth #cw mentions of pregnancy #(tagging those because I've seen people who are uncomfortable with them and I wanna play it safe~) #spark writes #warden Ingo

[piived]

I am such a slut for Danny having supernatural strength and being able to kill someone with a single slap because he’s used to fighting ghosts who are built Sturdy (and literally can’t die, that is very helpful in a sparing partner) so he has to learn such meticulous control when he moves to Gotham where he starts regularly getting into scuffles with humans who think he’s an easy target (he looks like he has the sturdiness of a wet newspaper) and the whole time he’s more stressed about not drawing the Bats attention by being too good or accidentally killing someone so he has to walk that fine line of acting like a scrawny loser and dipping out at his first chance without being clocked as a meta.

Danny, laying on the ground and getting kicked repeatedly by a thug: *tries to angle himself so the guy can kick out a knot in his back*

Danny: *deadpan* oh, ow, stop that hurts, oof

Robin, watching from the rooftop and recognizing the dramatics from the Supers: father there is a meta

Batman, also watching and having flashbacks to Clark’s earlier days: *so so tired and already mentally getting the adoption paperwork ready*

#danny 🤝 peter parker 🤝 the supers #having such carefully maintained control at all times #sure danny is used to doing mundane things with his powers now but fights… his years of Ghost Brawls are really biting him in the ass here #the others learned how to fight (mostly) humans first and foremost so it’s now more natural for them to manage their power levels #danny is so worried about accidentally killing someone after every brawl with a ghost because the power level difference is so insane #he has to relearn how much force is acceptable after each all-out fight with a ghost #dpxdc #dpxdc drabble #dpxdc prompt #vee’s writing #vee’s prompts

[wtnvwritings]

I mean... Kevin and “Do you wanna know a secret?” could go very well (or wrong) 👀👀👀

“Do you wanna know a secret?”

Your eyes narrow for a moment as you peer at the man over the book you were reading through—some anthology about Librarian attacks and how to recognize them in their native habitat and non-native bookstores (an invasive species there, really). There is something peculiar about Kevin’s tone, something mischievous and sly that ekes into every word like a child whom is barely trying to hide something they’d done.

“I don’t know,” you finally say. “Is this a secret sanctioned by the sheriff’s secret police?”

Kevin smiles, the corners too wide and his teeth too sharp. “Hardly!” he says, then laughs.

There’s a sudden clambering in the closet halfway across the apartment, the one between the living room and kitchen that you never opened. You sigh and turn towards it.

“We’re only joking!”

The clambering stops abruptly, to which your eyes return back to the book, and then finally to your boyfriend yet standing in front of you with an absolutely terrifying smile of mischief. He shifts a bit from one foot to the other, as if waiting for you to ask the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

“…what is the secret then, Kevin?”

“Oh you know, some of the normal secrets,” he says liltingly, like there’s a tune to his words. “The date of my death, the true face of the community radio station management-“

“I wouldn’t consider those normal secrets.”

He waves you off gently and continues, “-the exact price on merchantile goods even though sales tax is purposefully confusing, but most importantly… I got us a puppy!”

Before you have the chance to ask him why, how or even where the supposed pet is, the very creature appears in his arms all in the span of a blink. It writhes in his grip, looking as if liquid shadow with multiple eyes on every surface of its body—but relatively dog-shaped.

“Kevin,” you say slowly, caution filling your tone. “I thought the landlord said we couldn’t have pets.”

“He’s not a pet!” Kevin argues with a gleeful smile. “Instead he is a force of utter dismay and ill-fortune, destined to be the undoing of the fabric of the universe itself.” He pauses for a moment, then lifts the puppy into the air. “And he’s a trained emotional support animal! Cecil suggested I have one, and boy, he was on the money! I already love this adorable conduit of chaos!”

You sigh, a smile slowly pulling over your lips. At lease Cecil understood somewhat the trauma that Kevin was still healing from.

“Alright then, what are we going to name him?”

#wtnv #welcome to night vale #Drabble #sfw #sfw Drabble #writing #Kevin #WTNV Kevin #Kevin WTNV #kevin drabble #kevin writing #prompt drabble

[urfriendlywriter]

prompts that has me lying on a highway:

(feel free to use <3 10, 15, 20 are my favs omds. yall tag me when u writeeee I'd love to read :))

"I'm glad you were strong, love."

"i notice the little efforts you make for me.. and i just want you to know i appreciate it." whos cutting onions

SMILING during a kissss >>>>>

the gaze that softens as soon as it lands on you.

hand holding, twirling in their arms, slow dancing > <

telling a joke just to see them laugh

"love.. isn't a word enough to express what i feel for you."

"you were my bestfriend, before you were anything else, love." <333

hugging. especially if they're not much of a hugger, but they keep hugging you because you feel down. (this is my bestfriend aaah ilovehersm :( )

"tell me what you want, baby." in the deepest, nearly inaudible murmur AAAAH

when they always feed you their last bite

"give me a hug."

"i can't even act mad at you, love."

flirty BANTERS!!!!

"I'll come over there and make you shut up then." "you can try."

"i love you." "say it again."

caressing one's cheek (the one in the face.)

running into each other's arms after barely surviving

enemies but one is admitting, confessing and crying to the another after almost losing them!!!!!

collecting your injured lover,

^ "don't you dare die on me, [full fckn name]." "i won't, my love, i want to live for you... with you. for a long time." they strain but their smile after makes you cry.

"this is so wrong," "if so, then stop me, love," "you tempt me, [name]-" cue a KISSSSS "-and you drive me insane."

being curled up together on the bed, their face buried in your chest.

"i like how you did ____ today/that day."

forehead kisses. cheek kisses, knuckle kisses.

#writing inspiration #writer prompts #otp prompts #dialogue prompts #romance writing #imagine your otp #writeblr #writing prompts #urfriendlywriter #romance prompts writing #soft gestures #soft prompts for lovers #soft prompts #soft dialogue prompts #romantic gestures #gestures that says i love you #prompts that has me lying on a highway #my best friend does most of thsse to me. the platonic ones AND i think my standards r wayyy above the level lmao #otp writing #otp drabble prompts #writing inspo #writing ideas #writers of tumblr #women writers #writing prompt #how to describe love #romance tropes #love prompts that melted me #love prompts #enemies to lovers trope