#sappy prompts

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Sixth Day of Gift-Giving

Six Sappy Sentences

"I missed you like I never missed anyone before."

"You’re so beautiful, it’s hard to directly look at you."

"I get so sappy when I’m around you."

"Feel this? My heart is excited to have you close to me."

"Can’t even concentrate with you around."

"I want to keep your hand in mine, so I can’t lose you."

Bonus 6:

"I never believed in love at first sight before I met you."

"You make me fall in love with you over and over again."

"I will never get over you. And I don't want to."

"Holding hands with you makes me feel so giddy."

"I feel completely safe when I'm with you."

"Seeing you smile makes it so hard not to kiss you right then and there."

24 Days of Gift-Giving

#24 gifts #day 6 #bonus because I had more ideas than six 😅 #but because of the day I just had to put six #so basically 2 times 6 sappy sentences #sappy prompts #24 days of gift giving #prompt list #writeblr #writing prompts #writing ideas #advent calendar #creativepromptsforwriting

[haytham-loves-chocolate]

This conversation takes place in Haytham’s bedroom where he also does his Templar work, and you two share the room. Frustrated at the events that happened that day, you went to confront him for it. This goes along with the timeline for the game and the book.

“Why can’t you handle yourself, Haytham? Another one dead because you just decided that was best? What happened to the chivalrous, merciful-“

“Merciful? I don’t know what you are spilling out from your lips, but I’m not merciful.”

“Shay. He persuaded you to keep Achilles alive.”

“And now he has a cane to walk on.”

“And then with Connor. Your own son. You had times aplenty to kill the Assassin and decided not to.”

“He’s just a boy-“

“A boy?! A BOY?! That ‘boy’-“ You spat out, getting angrier by each time he denies. “Just killed Pitcairn, Johnson, and Hickey! You’re the one that bloody put him into jail, no trial, and then made a ‘heroic’ scene saving his ass! And since we have a runaway bastard, he’ll go for him next! Or Charles, whichever one messes up first.”

You put your hands on the desk, glaring at Haytham as you keep talking,

“You’re so reckless, just having piles and piles of Templar bodies that you have to claim for and dump into graves. You don’t even care for your friends, do you? Not anymore, not me! I should’ve went straight back home when you were gone if I would’ve known you would be this heartless… vain monster of a Grand Master! Probably should’ve parted with you when you left Shay out to the world for more Precursor stuff.”

You move your hands away from the desk, crossing your arms, feeling like the anger is dying down and more of regret showing for saying what you did to him. However, he doesn’t yell, or even talk, he stands up from his chair and goes towards you slowly, seeing his eyes stare at you.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you right now. I’m starting to believe I’m just here for nothing. That you really don’t care. What if I’m next? What if I’m-“

He presses you against his desk, looking deep into your eyes which has you gasp slightly and even unprepared as he suddenly presses his lips to yours, holding your hands and making sure you don’t move from the position he’s put you in.

You do kiss him back but it’s only one kiss as his lips part from yours. He looks into your eyes again.

“My dear, I do care for you, I always have. Now, you should be laid across my lap for such back talk, but since you’re talking about being merciful, I will do no such thing.”

“H-Haytham-“

“No. Nothing more from your mouth. Shut up and kiss me.”

His bluntness and vulgar talk completely takes you off guard, as it’s not really like him, but you comply with his demand and kiss him this time, pulling him close to you.

You both know what is going to happen tonight and it ends here on Haytham’s desk.

#haytham kenway #assassins creed 3 #assassins creed #ac3 #assassins creed iii #assassin's creed #i love you haytham #this is my haytham kenway simp blog #ac #assassin's creed 3 #writing prompts #assassins creed forsaken #assassins creed forsaken entry #haytham kenway x reader #Haytham Kenway x oc #sappy prompts

[stereopticons]

For the sappy prompts: #10!!

10. “Stay with me forever.”

It's a strange thing, when David thinks about it, the concept of home. It's a word he's thrown about casually for most of his life. He always thought that home was a place, a sanctuary, somewhere he could go to be alone. It was a place that he could recover from all the damage the world inflicted on him.

But lying here in Patrick's bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his boyfriend's chest and the way the light from the window (streetlights or moonlight, David doesn't know, and isn't sure it matters) falls across his face, David might just have to reconsider.

Patrick is curled up on his side, his back pressed to David's chest, David's arm thrown casually across his hip. He's asleep, if the deep, steady breathing is any indication, and David feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs by just how beautiful Patrick is like this. Somehow, this feels more like home than anything else ever has. It scares him as much as it comforts him.

Because Patrick isn't damaged like David is. Patrick had a home growing up, not just a house. He had a place to feel safe and a family that loved and supported him through whatever he needed. David never had that, so he doesn't know what to do with this ever-growing ball of feelings that has lodged itself deep in his chest.

He loves Patrick, he knows that now. He's even managed to say it out loud once or twice, though not nearly as frequently or as easily as it spills from Patrick's lips. But he still lives in fear that Patrick's love has an expiration date, because that, at least, is something he's familiar with. It'll come someday, Patrick will tire of him and his baggage, and it's going to hurt like fucking hell when it does. Already, David is afraid that he might never recover. So he does what he thinks he needs to do to put it off as long as possible.

David slips his arm from around Patrick's waist. Or, he tries, but Patrick reaches out and pulls David's arm in close to him, effectively trapping him there.

"I have to go," he whispers.

"No," Patrick mumbles sleepily. "Stay."

"I've already stayed too long. You know how hard it is to get a car at this time of night."

Patrick rolls over without relinquishing his grip on David's arm. His eyes are sleepy and soft as they look up into David's.

"Stay," he says again. "With me. I don't want you to have to leave."

"I know, but--"

"Stay with me forever. Move in."

The words cause David's world to shift on its axis. He stares blankly at Patrick, trying to come up with the words to say. Sure, he's thought about this, dreamed about it, even, but he never dared hope for it. Patrick can't mean it. He's half asleep and still drunk on the mind-blowing orgasm David gave him before he fell asleep.

But Patrick's eyes are wide and sincere and before David can even open his mouth to protest, he says, "I mean it, David. I've been thinking about it for a while."

And it's just that sliver of being seen that knocks down all of the walls and defenses that David has left.

"Okay," he whispers, afraid if he says it any louder, it'll be snatched from his grasp. Patrick's face lights up brighter than the streetlights (or the moon) outside and he pulls David down and kisses him deeply.

And David finally feels at home.

sappy prompts!

#sappy prompts #home is a person #slowly but surely getting to the prompts in my inbox #thanks for asking #schitt's creek #schitt's creek fic #patrick x david #david x patrick

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Please don't be Silent Hill. Please don't be Silent Hill." The boy kept up his mantra as they approached the sign from behind.

Sure enough, the sign declared this place was named Silent Hill. The boy, Danny, had explained Silent Hill was a survival horror game franchise and that they were "living out the game" Cass nodded. She dealt with horrors regularly in Gotham and she knew how to survive much better that the average person.

She thought this would be easy.

She was wrong.

Danny as Phantom was ridiculously useful, and his knowledge of the video games was priceless given their situation but even he could only do so much. By the end of it she was carrying her new very tired and very traumatized boyfriend bridal style through Gotham.

Let me tell you, gothamites seeing Black Bat carrying some glowy meta around like that gave many people the absolutely correct idea that BB was dating him.

The batfam are freaking out. Thier sister disappeared for weeks without a trace and then suddenly reappeared with a boyfriend? Suspicious.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #black bat #batgirl #silent hill #im going to level with you #i know jack all about silent hill #just half the fic is legit horor and then the other half is sappy love stuff and the batfam trying to find dirt on danny

[wreckedandpolemic]

hey here’s my long request because IM extra

8, 24, 57, 109 —> george <3

reflection - george daniel

(mdni) severely disappointed in the amount of george fic posted in my absence lets get to work ladies!!

warnings: 18+, degradation, unprotected sex, light dom/sub

Tension runs hot through your body, steam practically curling off your skin as you fight to hold still — you’re behaving, taking instruction, you’re being good, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” You tremble as one of George’s big hands comes up to paw at your tit, the other holding the vibrator insistently against your clit. Silent gasps fall from your lips, your body trembling, jellylike. Pleasure fights to burst from under your skin, the effort of keeping any reaction at bay Herculean.

“Baby… George, I want–” He presses a finger to your lips, your body crying out in protest as he silences you.

He pinches your nipple harshly, a bright spark of pleasure-pain darting through you, the whine that falls from your lips muted and pathetic. “I don’t care what you want,” he murmurs, tone soothing even as he tears you apart under his hands. “Be a good girl for me, hm?”

And you want to be good for him, so you hold still, letting him wreck you. Your cunt clenches with every pulse of the toy at your swollen clit, pleasure turning to pain turning back to pleasure so fast your head spins. Your cunt is soaked, greedy, aching for him. Your back arches involuntarily off the bed, your legs spreading wider around him. 

“I asked you to hold still, sweet girl. Had enough, have you?” he asks, low in your ear. “You wanna stop?” He takes the vibrator away, and you feel the loss like a physical pain, cunt clenching wantonly around nothing.

“N-no!” you cry, horrified. “Don’t stop! Want you,” you moan out, your efforts finally breaking as you writhe desperately under him.

He huffs a soft laugh, a cry tearing out of your throat as he dials the vibrator up a notch; the sensation is suddenly so much that you can barely breathe, let alone think. “Say please, angel. Good girls say please when they ask for something they want,” George chides gently, leaning down to scrape his teeth at your neck as you shudder. God, he’s evil. It’s a fight to pull the meaning from his words, your head stuffed full of cotton wool. “Where’s my sweet girl?”

You cry out, drowning in the waves of bliss kicking wildly through your limbs. “Please, George, please!” The words tear themselves from your throat almost involuntarily.

He pinches the flesh of your thigh sharply, pain spiralling into a burst of heat between your legs. “You don’t get to call me that today, sweetheart.”

“‘M sorry, sir!” you cry, hips grinding down against the vibrator, pressure mounting in your cunt.

“Good girl,” he breathes, rewarding you with a soft kiss against your neck and circling the vibrator over your clit. A moan tumbles from your lips, a tight knot of pleasure winding itself around your insides, coiling tighter and tighter. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” George murmurs, wandering a teasing hand down your body, playing with your hole.

Your hips chase his hand, rolling desperately against him, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Please, sir. I wanna– want you,” you slur out, barely aware of the words stumbling from your mouth, fire pooling low in your belly and dripping between your thighs.

“Come for me, angel, then I’ll give you what you want, yeah?” George promises, taking a handful of your tit and squeezing hard. His blunt nails dig into your skin, five sharp points of pain fogging up your mind as you chase the sweet, intense pleasure that tangles in your limbs and wraps around your brain. “Such a pretty little slut for me. Can’t think of anything but falling apart on my cock, huh?”

Your slow-moving mind latches onto the final few words. “Yeah, wan’ your cock, please, sir,” you cry, tears welling in your eyes.

George’s head lowers to kiss at your lower belly, his lips stoking the fire that pools under your skin. “You aren’t getting it, are you, baby?” he murmurs against your skin. “Maybe I should stop, if you’re too stupid to follow my instructions already?”

You gasp, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Nononono! I can be good, I promise. Wanna cum for you, sir, ‘m so close, please.” George dips two fingers into you, your soaked cunt taking him in eagerly. Your head spins as he crooks his fingers, a garbled moan falling from your lips before you even register your orgasm slamming into you. You feel unreal, brain melting into a puddle on the mattress as your body wracks with shudders. George finger-fucks you through, his touch the only thing anchoring you to your loose-limbed body as you come hard against him, your arousal soaking his hand.

“Good girl,” George mutters, taking your nipple in his mouth and biting gently. You glow at the praise, heat flooding your cheeks. “I wanna try something, sweet girl. Can you get on the floor for me? Hands and knees in front of the mirror?” You blink up at him slowly, your brain unwilling to register his words; your limbs feel too weighted, your head too thick to move. George runs his warm palms over your flushed skin, melting the cement in your bones until you come unglued from the mattress. You slide onto the floor, letting him maneuver you into position, his hands trailing sparks under your skin. 

Making eye-contact with yourself in the mirror shocks you; you look wanton, fucked-out already, pupils blown wide and hair unruly. George kneels behind you, his frame towering over yours — you’ll never get over the sheer size of him, broad-shouldered and square-chested above you, big hands grasping your hips possessively. A bolt of lust strikes you as your eyes meet his in the mirror, his gaze dark and heated, anticipation coiling in your belly. “Please, sir,” you whine, rolling your hips back against him. “Fuck me,” you plead, turning your head to look desperately in his eyes.

George drags his nails down the flesh of your ass, hard enough to sting without drawing blood. You whimper, cunt dripping against him. “Needy little slut, yeah?” You nod helplessly. “Oh, baby. Wanna fuck my good girl, not a dirty whore.” You shiver against him, his words sliding down your insides and sticking deliciously to your flesh.

“No, please, ‘m your good girl,” you moan, arching your back and whining quietly, hot desire dripping out of you near-painfully. 

He clicks his tongue disbelievingly, circling his thumb over your clit, shushing you as you whimper. “C’mon, sweetheart. Show me how bad you want it.”

“Fuck, please, sir!” you cry. “Wanna come on your cock s’bad. You make me feel so good, baby.” Pleas tumble from your lips as desire burns under your skin, your body screaming out for him.

“It’s okay, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he murmurs, lining up his cock with your hole, filling you in one fluid stroke. A gasp tumbles from your lips, George’s thick cock buried gorgeously deep in you, your cunt a vice around him as he allows you a moment to adjust to the stretch before pulling almost all the way out of you. The carpet digs into your knees, scraping under your palms; your loose limbs ache from the weight of you. You hardly feel any of it, mind wrapped around him, focus glued to the point where your bodies connect. Blunt nails dig into your waist, pulling you back to slam your hips against his. Heat flares in your cunt, stretched wide around him, burning deliciously.

Your jaw drops, eyes rolling back in your head as George fucks into you brutally. A string of obscenities fall uncontrollably from your lips as you widen your legs, bucking your hips against his desperately. “Such a filthy mouth,” he murmurs adoringly. “Slut,” he adds, delivering a slap to the inside of your thigh that makes you gasp, jolting against him, faint pain tracing lovingly under your skin. Your head is heavy, thick with desire, slow-moving thoughts wading through treacle as you let it hang against your chest. George fists a hand in your hair, dragging your gaze up so you meet your own eyes in the mirror. “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are.” The praise has liquid heat rolling over you, thick and sticky in your lungs. “So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only for me. Take my cock so well, baby.”

“Made for you,” you slur out, revelling in the way George’s hips stutter in response, the slight falter tangible proof of your effect on him. You lock eyes with him in the mirror, skin flushed and chest heaving. He’s so fucking gorgeous, solid and warm above you, possessiveness glinting in his eyes as he grips your hips. Your eyes trail down, drinking in the obscene picture the pair of you make — you on all fours, mouth slack and eyes glazed as George fills you over and over, rhythmic, pathetic whines falling from your lips. “We look so fucking hot,” you grin, desire throbbing in your belly so hard it hurts. “You fuck me so good, sir. Love your cock so much. Want you to ruin me.”

“Filthy slut,” me murmurs adoringly. “Are you close, baby?” You nod frantically, pressure mounting between your legs, your aching cunt begging for release. “Yeah, I can tell. So fuckin’ tight around my cock.” George circles your clit gently, the sensation against your swollen nerves dramatically intense. He grins wickedly at you in the mirror, sending a thrill of anticipation through you, and brings the vibrator back to your sore clit. A cry tears itself from your throat, molten euphoria flooding you, near-painful stimulation crushing in your lungs as you struggle to catch your breath. “That’s it, angel. Come all over my cock, baby.”

The command is all it takes, your body desperate to please him before your heavy, slow mind can process. Your blood feels thick with need, your heart beating unbelievably fast to keep up as crushing, intense pleasure slams down on you. Your cunt pulses, heat flooding your senses as you drag your heavy gaze up to meet George’s in the mirror. His eyes are locked on you, pupils blown as he watches you come, still fucking into you wildly. He moans low in his throat, his cock pulsing as he comes inside of you, gripping your hips and fucking his cum deep into your greedy cunt.

An obscene sound rings out as he pulls out of you, transfixed by the way his cum starts to drip down your legs. “Thank you, sir,” you mumble, slumping to the floor as your arms give out. George dips his head, licking a stripe down your sensitive cunt and you fight not to slam your legs closed against the bolt of pain. “No more, please,” you whine, burning your face in your arms.

He smiles fondly. “Okay, baby. Did so good for me, yeah?” You pout, relaxing your legs and letting your exhausted body collapse on the carpet. George laughs, stroking your sweat-soaked back. “Such a good girl. Come on, angel.” Your body still feels limp and weak, and you sink into George’s arms as he gathers you up from the floor and lays you on the bed. You look up into his eyes, heart melting at the pure adoration plain on his face. Pouting up at him, you make childish grabby hands until he relents and lays down next to you.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips, letting him catch you in a sweet, gentle kiss. George runs a calloused hand up your body, taking a handful of your tits and squeezing gently.

“I love you too, sweet girl.” He breaks away from you and you whine, clutching feebly at him as he pets your hair gently. “Need to run you a bath, love.”

The vacuum of cool air that brushes you as he pulls away has you shuddering, wrapping your arms around yourself theatrically, looking up at him imploringly. “Can’t it wait? Just for a minute,” George scoffs, face softening as he relents, relaxing next to you. He drapes an arm over your waist and you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, savouring the heat of his body against yours. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head as his other hand wanders down to your ass and you grin. “You’re gonna get me worked up all over again, darling.”

A filthy smirk crosses his face. “You’re insatiable.”

“Only for you.”

#i think im allergic to not writing sickeningly sappy endings Sorry about that #george daniel x reader #george daniel #george daniel imagine #george daniel smut #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #requests #request #smut prompt fills

[dalvs-wife]

think ab an alternate universe where your f/os are the selfshipper and you're the character theyre in love with... worlds apart, they love you inside and out

#selfship stuff #yall im sappy.. #selfship community #ray rambles #self ship #self ship community #self ship prompts #selfship prompts

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Person A: “I could have done that for you.”

Person B: “I know, I just didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness.”

Person A: “...I don’t mind being taken advantage of, if you’re the one doing it.”

#write-it-motherfuckers #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing #prompt #story prompt #story prompts #story #prompts #my prompt #original #random #imagine #story time motherfucker #dialogue #dialogue prompt #person a and person b #incorrect quotes #incorrect quote #sappy #fluff #fluffy #cute #flirting #romance #love #soft #platonic #as always the tags are only ever a suggestion #suggestive

[impel-clown]

Mihawk buggy and crocodile are all so tsundere they refuse to acknowledge or humor any of their feelings about each other until they’re so unbearable that they practically break under the pressure into the gooiest least-tsundere confessional mess ever. There are heavy casualties to everyone’s dignity. Rumors of a “schmoopsy bear” occurrence plague survivors.

Now I'm obsessed with the idea that everyone on Karai Bara is terrified of the day that the three cross guild leaders finally do something about their feelings. Everyone is sure it will be a threat-filled battle with backhanded compliments and front handed strikes.

But then some of the men come back from a mission only to hear that It finally happened. How bloody was it? How many casualties? Are the three leaders still even alive? However, the reality is far worse.

It was sweet.

Oh sure tears were shed, but they were ones of joy and catharsis. When knuckles brushed cheeks, it was in a tender caress. Mihawk went on a whole speech comparing the three of them to plants that, while they can grow separately under the harshest of conditions, they're able to truly Thrive when planted together, one's strengths filling in another's weaknesses. That's right! He went into a sappy plant metaphor! He even called Crocodile his Desert Rose in a move that left many amongst the ranks down for the count.

And that's not even touching the fact that chairman Buggy couldn't stop crying as he admitted that Crocodile and Mihawk are better than any treasure because they themselves are more valuable than gold. This is where everyone thought Sir Crocodile would snap and go on a rampage, but no! He instead brought Mihawk and Buggy into a hug of all things! What was said next was all hushed whispers but some swear they overheard things such as the aforementioned "schmoopsy bear", and "sunshine" and even a "lover boy".

Any and all bets made concerning when the cross guild leaders would get together are forgotten, with no one wanting to relive the sappiness to get what they're owed.

#one piece #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #cross guild #asks #im 100% here for a completely unexpected sappy live confession from these three #thank you for sending this #(also thank you to those who have sent prompts!) #(im still chugging through my October writing plans but fear not!) #(i will get to them all)

[sappy-detective]

so i’m obsessed with when fics make shuichi a working detective. and i have a small detective/runaway saiouma AU. warning i talk a LOT

so ouma and saihara are childhood best friends. i’m talking like knowing each other since like kindergarten age.

they’re both attached at the hip. shuichi being a shy introvert and ouma being very obnoxious and outgoing. one thing they have in common is that- well they don’t have any friends. no one wants to talk to shuichi because they think he’s weird and no one likes ouma because they think he’s loud and obnoxious. but they mesh so well and become the best of friends.

and their home lives are very polar opposite.

oumas pretty poor, his dad is an abusive dick and his mom is .. well she try’s to be good but in the end she stands by and doesn’t say or do anything to stop his dad. but he’s a mamas boy through and trough.

shuichis mom and dad pretty much abandoned him with his aunt and uncle. they’re upper middle class and they’re very very supportive and loving to him. they’re his mother and father figure but it’s not the same as having your mom and dad. especially sucks when he sees them in movies and tv shows.

they share everything with each other and are very comfortable with each other. they came out to each other and support each other. they’re just very incredibly close.

then one day, ouma just, disappears?

they’re in about high school when he disappears. about 15-16? at this point, shuichis made friends with kaede, maki, and kaito, along with others in his class. he’s still shy and has social anxiety but it wasn’t as bad as it used to be.

he didn’t notice at first, but found it odd that ouma didn’t text him in the morning, or walk with shuichi to his bus stop.

he and ouma go to different schools so he can’t talk to him direct, so he tries calling ouma during his lunch hour but the call didn’t go through at all.

he was bubbling with anxiety the whole day, kaede and his friends tried calming him down but this is WAy out of character. this goes on for days and shuichis just about to freak because.. we’ll he can’t really do anything.

ouma never invited shuichi over or even told shuichi where he lives. he isn’t embarrassed about being poor or anything but he doesn’t want shuichi meeting his dad.

they always hang out at shuichis house, ouma always walks home and refuses any offers of a ride home from shuichis uncle so shuichi has no idea whats going on.

now with shuichis uncle being a detective i imagine that he tries snooping and he figured out it looks like ouma either ran away from home or was kidnapped.

now this is part you can take out but,

the night before, ouma visited saiharas window. not extremely weird. on school night when ouma isn’t allowed past 9, so he visits saiharas windows to talk to him.

what was odd about this time was that ouma seemed to be in a rush. his face was flushed and he was panting like he just ran a marathon. he was at saiharas window just talking, then periodically popping in cool he thought shuichi was. in a kind of ouma way.

“pst! ouma! come on, we have to go!” shuichi jumped a bit, looking past ouma to see a feminine figure jogging up to his back fence.

“who’s that?”

“just… one of my friends” ouma sighed, letting go of the  windowsill.

that night ends with ouma giving shuichi a kiss, a semi love confession and a smile before leaving with his friend.

then he disappears. you can take that part out though. but i think it adds a kind of lead to what happened.

shuichis uncle isn’t allowed to investigate or interfere because he knows ouma so it’s all up to the detective that’s put on his missing persons case. maybe they think he ran away so it’s not being taken seriously?

shuichi just wants to get to the bottom of what happened to his best friend (and let’s be honest, almost lover.)

then it’s teen boy detective saihara snooping around, going to his school just- being a detective.

this is just a funny idea i MIGHT write a one shot about or might not who knows. OBVIOUSLY the people he left with was DICE but shuichi doesn’t know that. i like to think that they’re close this makes shuichi realize that, in reality, he knows nothing about ouma.

sure he knows his favorite food, how he likes his fruit cut and what his favorite flavor of candy is but he doesn’t even know what his parents names are or where he lives.

in reality oumas been planning on running away for a long time, planning with his friends/found family and just has been putting it off because… well shuichi would be alone without him but now that shuichis finally has more friends to help him out he feels comfortable leaving his shitty home life.

definitely wasn’t easy tho!!! you should add more mystery if you want- make it fun

#oh my GOD sappy shut up IM SORRY OKAYY I LIKE TALKING AND I DONT HAVE ANYONE TO TALK TO SO INTO THE TUMBLR ABYSS YOU GO! #that was a lot of talking for a prompt but i’ve been obsessed with detectives and stuff like that since i was like 8 #i’ve been a nerd obsessed with detective and detective work for ever i eat up any books or TV shows so you know i’m obsessed with when- #fics incorporate shuichis detective work with the fic. i also might be autistic but that’s for another day. #this isn’t ALL circling saiouma and you can take and leave whatever you don’t like but it’s just a fun idea u had #shuichi just wants his best friend potential lover back #dangonronpa #kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #drv3 #danganronpa #killing harmony #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #saiouma #saioma #oumasai #omasai #prompt #sapy prompt #danganronpa: killing harmony #danganronpa killing harmony #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa au #mystery

[httpseiki]

hi hi !! can you use the prompts from fluff; 59 and from smut; 75, 89 with changbin. like he's jealous of someone who is too clingy to reader in public

thank youu <3

𝚏𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜

- seo changbin x reader

note: hi hi yes of course, this was kinda rushed but I hope you like it!! also there's an easter egg somewhere, good luck finding it :))

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ prompts!

59. “Should we make it official?”

75. “Keep acting like that, I’ll fuck you in front of everyone.

89. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you.”

tw: NSFW content, afab!reader x dom!changbin, ftl, changbin gets jealous, fingering, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex(don't recommend it), spanking, slight breeding kink.

song choice: honeymoon avenue - ariana grande

"I don't get it, why does it bother you so much?" you walk after changbin.

"I just didn't like how touchy he was with you, that's all," he shruggs.

"why, though? he was just flirting, aren't you happy I'm getting some?"

...

oh he really isn't happy. and by the way he stopped and folded his arms, he was pretty pissed. cause yeah, you can watch the one you crush on be followed around by girls all the time, and no one says anything, but when he sees ONE guy hit you up-

wait a minute, was he upset on that guy or was he jealous of that guy?

well, that's confusing. changbin was sending death glares to him all night long, but was it because he thought you're uncomfortable or because he felt threatened?

you hum, turning to face him, looking in his eyes. not that you could read anything of his emotions, you just waited for an answer,

“Should we make it official?”

his voice is deep and it startles you after the long silence.

"what do you mean?"

"us. should we make us official, then?" he walks closer to you, until your back is met with a wall.

"i-i-"

"oh come on,───, don't play dumb."

his fingers push your chin up, his gaze piercing into your hole. and why didn't you realise how hot it was in this bar?

"ok, fine. I like you. in that way." changbin's words turned on something inside you. "and it's so obvious you like me too, so let's make it official."

"all because you got jealous of another guy flirting," you smirk.

"───." he warns.

"well, what can I say? god bless that taehyun guy for spawning at this club and hitting on me, hmm?" you roll your eyes playfully.

“Keep acting like that, I’ll fuck you in front of everyone."

anger was evident in his tone. changbin's face was milimeters away from yours, so you took a chance and kissed him. deep. and slow.

your arms wrapped around his neck, tongues meeting, messily making out. you both giggled and held hands, as he lead the both of you outside, searching for the keys to his car.

ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you, only to manhandle you on all fours, before getting in himself and closing it.

your lips hungrily searched for his, colliding in an open mouth kiss, much more seductive thn the one before.

changbin's fingers raised the hem of your skirt and pulled your panties down. his palm cupped your pussy, earning a whine in response.

"so wet, and I didn't even touch you properly."

he groaned, thrusting his digits inside you. you gasp, in surprise, taking whatever he gives you. his pace was quickening, and so was your arrival.

"changbin, I'm so close!~" he chuckles.

"yeah, I know, sweetheart, come on now."

with blurry vision, you came hard, body collapsing if it wasn't for him holding your hips.

his tongue drew a line from your clit to your hole, his breath sending you into overstimulation.

"you taste so good, baby" he coos before slurping the juices you left.

you whined when changbin's tongue stopped teasing your entrance. he smirked, getting up to remove his pants. you heard his belt undo and fall on to the floor. you look back to see him pumping his cock, eyes closed.

he aligned himself with your cunt, messily sliding between your folds as an attempt of lubrication.

"you're clenching over nothing, are you that needy for me?"

you whine, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"already brain fucked? oh baby, I have to train you, don't I?" he sighs, pushing his whole dick inside.

"NGH SO BIG, CHANGBIN~" you yell in pleasure.

your nails dig in the seats, drool coming out of your mouth at the feeling of your walls stretching this nicely. he pulled out, only to thrust in again, harder, and started to literally fuck you mercilessly.

his grip on you tightened, probably gonna leave a mark. not that you mind, though. you were only held up by him, literally face down ass up.

"such a good pussy, why didn't I use her before?" changbin said through gritted teeth, definitely trying not to bust too early.

his palm hit your ass and you clenched, making him groan, and do it again.

"I wonder what everyone outside thinks," he snickers.

and he's right. outsiders are probably scared, confused or... amused. seeing a car frantically shake in a bar parking lot can't suggest much. you moan at the thought,

"pretty baby wants everyone to know who fucks her this good~"he hums.

"YES YES~" you whimper when a harsh thrust of his brushes against your spot.

"Fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you.” changbin groans, " would you like that? let that bitch know who owns you?"

you whine, breathing not an option in this moment. his arm hooked around your waist, reaching down to rub your clit. and it hit you so hard.

"CHANGBIN~" you moan, feeling him fill you up as well.

"good girl, taking my cum so well," he praises, slowing down his thrusts.

he lets go of your hips, you collapse completely on the cushion. your - now - boyfriend reached for some tissues to clean you up.

"seeetheart, could you get up a bit?" he rubs your thigh.

you oblige, hissing when feeling how sore you were.

"did I go too rough?" he worries.

"no, I loved it, " you whisper, all energy drained out.

changbin takes his time to fix the mess you both worked on. when he finishes, his eyes find the foggy windows in front of him. before he could make any flirtatious joke, he sees something:

𖤐 ♡ <3 𖤐

𖤐 changbin <3 ♡

httpseiki, all rights reserved.

#seiki's prompts 🕷 #ew i got sappy at the end #cringe #but changbin would like that ig #ty for your ask!☕ #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #changbin #seo changbin smut #changbin hard thoughts #changbin hard hours #changbin scenario #changbin imagines #changbin x reader #seo changbin drabbles #changbin smut #changbin scenarios

[monster-cock69]

I feel like i posted something similar forever ago but anyways

soulmate au where they can be platonic or romantic and Tony goes to a children's hospital for some charity thing and meets terminally ill little kid peter

"You're Tony Stark"

"And you're Peter Parker"

#irondad #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #someone please write this #prompt #iron man #spiderman #avengers #marvel #tony stark #peter parker #peter's gonna die #but it'll be sappy anyways

[haytham-loves-chocolate]

Another short prompt, this time with some quotes in one.

2. “Please don’t leave me”

9. “I’ve missed you so much”

21. “I’m better when I’m with you”

When he comes home for the day, he goes to take off his shoes and coat, puts his hat on his little desk he uses for days off in the bedroom, then walks to the left and into the merging bathroom that also connects to the living room.

After he’s finished bathing in the bathroom, he comes back into the bedroom to see his partner emerge from the bedroom door, looking at him in awe and with tears threatening to go down their face.

“I’ve missed you so much!”

They rush up to him to give him a tight hug, feeling relieved that he’s here for them. He does hug back, but it’s a gentle one, and he goes over to their bed slowly to lay on it.

He combs his hand through their hair, looking down at them to see that they lay their head on his chest, gently rolling up his sleeves just to touch his arms and hold his hand, moving it close to their face to kiss his palm, and lean their cheek to it, sighing lovingly.

“I know it’s only been hours but it feels like it’s been days since we’ve done something like this.”

They let out another loving sigh, closing their eyes just to feel his fingertips brush against their cheek. Without telling him, they press their lips against his, which he doesn’t mind as he keeps his hand on their cheek, caressing it as they kiss, a sweet, longing kiss.

“Please don’t leave me. I love you so much to let you go.”

They whisper in the kiss, looking into his eyes to which he whispers back,

“I’m only better when I’m with you, love.”

They continue their kiss to which they’re lying on their sides and his fingers gently roam their body, touching every curve and even moving his hands up their top to touch their skin. He gives them the affection they want, being delicate and loving as he also whispers sweet nothings to them.

If only this could go on forever, it would be nothing but paradise and a dream come true.

#haytham kenway #assassins creed 3 #assassins creed #assassins creed iii #ac3 #assassin's creed #this is my haytham kenway simp blog #i love you haytham #assassin's creed 3 #assassin's creed rogue #writing prompts #short prompt #sappy prompts #imagines #templar #kenway #ac #assassin's creed3 #my man #I just needed to vent by prompt writing lol #gender neutral y/n

[polutrope]

Daemags + 12

Thank you! From the kiss asks. On AO3.

12. ... in grief.

Lórien was not altogether silent, nor altogether empty, when Queen Arwen strayed there after the passing of King Elessar. She was not alone, wandering through the woods, though whether she heard the melody that drifted through falling golden leaves, Daeron did not know. For bowed with the burden of old age, she never lifted her head to hearken to his music.

“Go to her,” said a familiar voice, and Daeron turned. “Do you think it only chance that has brought you to her, or her to you, in this moment?”

“And you?” asked Daeron, his grief displaced by surprise to see this wanderer again, here and now.

“I have cause to love her also,” said Maglor. “But I do not think it is I who should sit by her when she breathes her last.”

So Daeron padded silently over the gold-flecked ground, and lowered himself beside the mound of Cerin Amroth. Arwen smiled, not opening her eyes, but whispering, “Thank you, for seeing that I do not die alone.”

Daeron would never know if Arwen had known who it was bowed over her and wept when at last she left the world, but he was comforted that she had died with a smile on her careworn features. 

A long while passed before Maglor came to grieve beside him. Then Daeron turned to him, and when Maglor lifted a hand to his face, Daeron accepted the touch. He was moved anew to tears to feel its gentle pulse against his skin, and the warm breath against his lips was a soothing balm. 

He accepted the kiss from this erstwhile lover, this ancient enemy, and was filled only with relief that here was one who had endured as long as he and knew the immeasurable pain of what it was to lose and lose and, always, to live on.

For live on they must, who hold in themselves the tales of all those who have passed away. 

I should note that this is a concept I've wanted to explore for a while, since seeing this gorgeous art of Arwen and Maglor by @silmaspens. I love the idea of Maglor being with her when she dies, but being me I love even more the idea that it's Daeron. Or why not both!

#daeron #maglor #arwen #daemags #I don't know what you expected Mae #hope it was something sappy and sad af #because that's what we have here #kiss prompts #my fic #prompts

[sweaterkittensahoy]

For IronStrange: [ SHARE ] sender, seeing that receiver is cold, wraps their jacket around them

"Wha--" is as far as Tony gets before Levi is absolutely swaddled around him.

"Cloak!" Strange yells from somewhere deeper in the Sanctum.

"Oh, he used your title. You're in trouble," Tony taunts Levi. Levi squeezes him more tightly. "Okay. Okay. Sorry. Ow." Levi loosens him up.

Stephen comes into the foyer looking oddly dusty not a little pissed off. "Hello, Tony," he says, though he's glaring at the neck of his cloak, which is giving as good as it's getting. Which is impressive because it shouldn't be able to do that.

"I was nine feet in the air!" Stephen shouts.

Levi unwraps momentarily so Stephen can see that Tony is wearing a sweater, jeans, sneakers, and no sign of outerwear.

"Where the fuck is your coat, Stark?" Stephen snaps. "It's below freezing!"

"The suit keeps me regulated," Tony replies. He tries to shrug, but Levi's wrapped around him again. "It's not a big--" He suddenly has a mouth full of cloak.

"Thank you," Stephen says to Levi. "I also don't want to hear the rest of that justification. But next time, put me down first."

Levi gives a little shimmy that means yes. Stephen looks horribly amused. "Take him into the kitchen, will you? Make him some tea. I need to mark my research point."

Tony grunts as Levi lifts his legs from under him and whisks him to the kitchen. "Did you really drop him nine feet?"

Levi's collar corners waggle in its version of a shrug.

"Yes, but you're not admitting to it?" Tony guesses. He laughs when Levi gives a sharp collar bob to say yes. He grunts when Levi suddenly lets him go and drops him onto his ass onto the very cold stone kitchen floor. "Oh, now you're fine with me being chilly?"

Levi swoops down and gets nose-to-nose with Tony, its whole collar puckered into an unquestionably displeased sort of pleating.

"I'll wear a coat, Jesus," Tony mutters.

Levi hovers for another moment then whips around and begins to prepare the tea.

Stephen walks in just after Tony's gotten himself off the floor and into a chair. He kisses the top of Tony's head and wraps his arms around his shoulders. "My apologies for my greeting you properly," he says, then tilts back Tony's head for a quick kiss. "But everything's settled so we can have a quiet night."

"Sounds good," Tony replies. He nods when Levi sets down two cups of tea and grins at the way it wraps itself around Stephen again, taking special care to cover Stephen's hands. Stephen's fingers ache horribly in the cold, even with all the magic at his disposal to help ignore it.

"Tell me about your day," Tony says, tucking two fingers under the edge of Levi so he can feel Stephen's hand for himself.

#ironstrange #levi the cloak #i love that he has a nickname #sappy shit #ask #prompts

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday part 2: Blackmail Au

First

Prev

In which Jak has to learn how to properly take care of curly hair

It turned out that the king of the Wastelanders was a little less intimidating when he was arguing with Sig. For all that he retained his commanding presence, with or without his armor, the low stakes of the disagreement seemed to soften him into something more human.

"I'm just going right back to the city again tomorrow!" Sig complained, "I'll do Wash Day when I get back."

"The rot you will," Damas retorted, pointing a comb menacingly at him, "We both know you'd rather shave your head than bother with Wash Day. Just get it over with and you won't have to deal with it for another two weeks."

"Come on, man!"

"You're setting a bad example for Jak," Damas said smugly.

Sig's nostrils flared. "Ohhh you rotsucker. That's not fair."

"I don't have to play fair on Wash Day."

Jak and Daxter watched the back and forth with growing amusement, especially when the indomitable Sig capitulated with some very creative expletives. Why was he making such a big deal out of washing his hair? Daxter washed twice a week if they could get the soap for it. Jak...didn't wash as much, but he tried to at least rinse off the sweat.

"It's just washing hair, how long could it take?" he snorted as Sig dragged out a low stool in front of the sink in the corner.

"An hour at least," Sig grumbled.

"An hour? For hair?" Jak sputtered, "Why would you spend that much time on it?!"

Sig looked at him. Damas looked at him. After a moment, Damas sighed.

"Well, that tracks."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Damas reached up and fiddled with the crown piercings, sliding them out of tiny metal ports in his skull with a soft click one by one. He set them on the table and distractedly waved Jak over.

"Hair like ours requires more care than your friend there," he explained. "I somewhat doubt you like running around with your curls all knotted and broken together like that. Hasn't anyone ever showed you how to care for them?"

Daxter scoffed. "Self-care was never high on Samos's priority list of subjects to teach us."

Curious but cautious, Jak edged closer to the table to look at the jars Damas had set out. Oils, creams, some kind of soap. Were Damas and Sig really going to use all of these? He picked one up and examined it closely, smelling coconut.

"That's the last step," Sig said, plucking the jar from his hands unexpectedly.

Jak blinked. Without his hood and armor, Sig looked...weird. His hair was close-cropped, but not shaved; olive green coils somewhat smashed into the shape of his helmet. Daxter snickered from behind him.

"Hat hair!" he whispered.

Sig was not amused. He yanked open the first jar of oil and applied it liberally to his hair. "Just do as I do, cherry. No commentators from the peanut gallery."

Damas followed suit with an impish smile altogether out of place on his stoic face. "This is why I don't do helmets."

"Because your head is too fat for them?"

Damas paused in rubbing the oil into his locs to narrow his eyes at Sig. "I know how to override your door lock, you know."

"Oooh I'm so scared. Whatcha gonna do? Shampoo me to death?" Sig taunted.

"I could do that. Or I could add something to your ammunition pouch."

"Add what?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Add what, Daym?"

"You'll find out."

Jak raised an eyebrow at the two grown men behaving like, well, like him and Daxter. They seemed distracted, and he was curious, so after a moment he gave in and poured a handful of oil into his own hair. Presumably they'd wash it out next.

He was wrong.

Thirty minutes he had to sit with the oil soaking into his hair, bored out of his skull. No wonder Sig hated doing this! He couldn't even leave the room, because he didn't know where to find another sink! Equally bored, Daxter started rifling through Jak's jacket pockets until he came up with the bag of trail rations.

"Wanna play Kill-Grid?" he asked, holding up the bag, "Nuts versus beans?"

"We don't have a grid," Jak pointed out.

Sig leaned forward. "Kill-Grid? What's that?"

Jak shrugged. "It's a game we played a lot back in Sandover. You make a grid of sixteen squares. Twelve pieces on each side, the middle row stays empty."

Daxter opened the bag to see if there were enough nuts and beans to even play as he added, "It's...kinda like checkers. Except the board shrinks if a whole row gets cleared out."

"Yeah! If every piece in one row gets captured, you erase that row and make the grid even smaller. Whoever has the most pieces left when there aren't any more open spaces is the winner."

Just speaking about the game seemed to lift a weight from the boy. Damas saw life returning to his eyes, and he actually sounded like a fifteen year old ought to for a moment. Sorrow clawed at his guts like an animal trapped inside. This was his son, his firstborn, and a complete stranger. A young boy who seemed to only barely remember that he was meant to have a childhood. Who didn't even know basic self-care.

"Time's up," he said, gently interrupting the explanation, "Time to shampoo."

"Finally!" Sig huffed.

The chamber fell silent save for the sounds of water splashing and soap squishing into curls. Jak watched Sig with wide eyes, earnestly mimicking every step as best he could. Cross-legged on the rug, barefoot and barefaced, he looked...he looked like he belonged there. Like he always should have. Damas watched his lost-and-found child's face morph into surprise as he discovered how easily his fingers slipped through the tangles now. It wasn’t so very different from teaching Mar to wash his own hair. Just how neglected had Jak been? Damas couldn’t help wondering if Jak and Mar were on equal footing in their knowledge of how growing up was meant to be. It wasn't right for a boy to be so unused to kindness. It wasn't natural.

"Y'know," Daxter remarked, "I really didn't think your hair was that long?"

Jak shrugged helplessly and fumbled with slippery, wet hair, trying to put yet another round of oil into it. Before, it had brushed against his shoulder blades, bulked out with matts and snarls. Now it hung nearly to his waist, and he was getting tired of it sticking to his fingers.

"Ugh," he groaned after having to return to the oil jar yet again. "Sig, can I borrow your knife? I'm not doin' this."

Damas shot Sig a dirty look as the taller man snickered.

"What, ah, whatcha gonna do with it, cherry?"

Jak raised a brow. "Cut it??"

With some effort, he gathered up the thick hair into one fist and gestured to about three inches. "Look, that's gonna get tangled in my holster. I don't wanna deal with that."

"We have scissors, you know," Damas pointed out.

"Knife's faster."

Damas paused and blinked. Somehow, Jak had turned out more like Sig than Mar had, and Mar was the one who actually shared blood with him! As grateful as he was -- overwhelmingly, shatteringly relieved and grateful -- that of all the people to have taken Baby Heart under his wing, it was Sig, he could have done without Sig’s impatience for hair care being passed along.

Even so, there was no bite in his voice when he muttered to Sig, "He gets this from you, doesn't he?"

"I apologize for nothing," Sig joked.

He pulled his knife out and handed it over to Jak.

"Let Daxter do it, kiddo. He can see the parts you can't."

"Fair enough," Jak agreed easily.

"If I get buried in this stuff, I demand financial compensation," Daxter warned as he was passed the knife.

"That's going to bounce up shorter than you think, you know," Damas commented. "Especially with the extra weight taken off."

"Hey, as long as it's not in my face or wrapped around my gun, I don't give a crap," Jak answered. He leaned back on his palms to give Daxter better access to the long curls.

"What was I supposed to do after the second oil soak? Is that it?"

"You can stop there," Sig begrudgingly admitted, "But in your case it...probably would be better to do one last thing of cream, since you don't wear a helmet like me. It'll protect your hair later."

Jak made a face, and Sig didn't blame him. As a boy, Sig had never been the most patient individual. He'd learned plenty of patience over the years, but when he was off-duty? He couldn't help some of the old instincts to just get it done and over with.

It was a good thing his mama couldn't see him right now. She'd box his ears and hold his head in the sink to finish the Wash Day herself. Selda had never let him get away with neglecting himself. Sig supposed he would have to start channeling his mother to ensure that Jak didn't continue to neglect himself.

Daxter set down the knife and examined his handiwork critically.

"Mm...well, it ain't stylish, but you don't look like you let a blindfolded batfinch style your hair, at least."

Damas made a little harrumph in the corner as he wrapped up his own application of a heated oil.

"Oh. Right. I need to change the batfinches' water tonight."

"Come again?" Daxter asked.

Sig picked up a wide-toothed comb and shrugged. "Damas keeps an aviary. He's got- what are you up to now, seven different species in there?"

"Ten, actually," Damas corrected. "The tavus eggs finally hatched. I had to get a pair of rock hens in order to hatch them, though."

"Rock hens? From the mountains?" Daxter asked, wrinkling his nose, "What's a rock hen got to do with peafowl?"

Damas’s eyes lit up with the prospect of actually talking about his birds.

"Rock hens will brood over anything even vaguely egg shaped," he said.

With a click he began setting his crown piercings back into their ports, gesturing now and then as he did.

"The incubators were hatching the peafowl eggs, but without other galliformes, the tavus chicks weren't surviving."

"You got them foster-moms," Daxter guessed, "Right?"

"I did!" Damas smiled. "They're doing quite well, so far."

Daxter stretched up over Jak's shoulder with a serious look. "We're gonna go see those birds, right?"

"After the flut-flut thing?" Jak teased him.

"They're already hatched! I don't gotta worry about gettin' mistaken for anybody's Ma this time!" Daxter argued. "Besides, I'm only goin' for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, mister "I'm just good with animals"!"

Jak wasn't sure yet. Going to this guy's aviary -- which he talked about with the same enthusiasm Jak used to feel about his bug collection -- felt like it would lead the man to start acting more buddy-buddy with him. Jak wasn't interested in that. He wanted his little brother back, and then maybe they could talk boundaries. But...there were baby animals. And...

He really liked baby animals.

They didn't shy away from him, even when he was in his dark form. If it weren't for animals like the city yakkows and the crocadog, Jak would probably have believed what everyone said about his dark side being some kind of mindless animal.

"Hhh. Okay. We can see the tavus chicks," he agreed, rolling his eyes.

Damas looked so pleased that whatever was left of his intimidating image dropped and shattered on the floor.

If he could find something in common with this boy -- something other than their mutual protectiveness over Mar; a boy his age had no business being made a parental figure to his sibling -- then perhaps they could start over on a better foundation than "I thought you were in danger so I had you kidnapped from Haven City". Even if that had definitely been the right call at the time.

First

<Prev

#jak and mar are separate people au #fic prompts #writing prompts #jak and daxter #jak and daxter au #dadmas #king damas #free day thursday #Kill-Grid is loosely based on a Shoshone game i read about Tuknanavuhpi #it's called Tuknanavuhpi and it sounds pretty fun tbh #damas has an aviary and loves his birds. don't ask him about the birds. he'll never shut up about the birds. #jak secretly gets sappy over baby animals #i wish I'd known some of this hair maintenance stuff when i was a kid RIP my 3A ringlets 😅 #my edits #made Jak out of Sokka and the Dragon Prince Ezran's hair #i had the same attitude towards hair at 15 as Jak and i Have Regrets now lol #dad sig #damas and sig are platonic life partners but can be read as ship

[boxboxlewis]

for the 5 sentence fic :D maxiel + punch (as in being hit, not the drink)

cw discussion of max's upbringing, weight mention

In their LA house they have a little study off the main bedroom and Max sets himself up there with his iPad and his headphones and a can of Red Bull, very serious about the whole thing. It's almost as if he's back at the factory giving feedback on a car, dialled in and ready to tell everyone exactly what happened at Turn 4. It makes Daniel feel oddly hopeful: that perhaps the session will... not work, exactly, but. Give Max what he needs, or whatever.

Unfortunately, when he emerges he's scowling, red-cheeked, and his progression towards Daniel can really only be described as a stomp. "This therapist is a total joke, Daniel," he announces. "The whole thing is bullshit."

Sometimes touch is better than words with Max; Daniel looks up and just opens his arms, and Max frowns but sinks down onto the sofa and lets himself be held.

"Tell me about it, baby," Daniel says, once they're positioned comfortably, Max's back snug against Daniel's chest. He laces their fingers together; shifts them slightly so he can see Max's 3 tattoo. Never gets old, that. His own 3 tattoo—a 33 tattoo, now—that never gets old, either. "What happened?"

For a while Max just breathes, in the controlled way that means he's probably counting, measuring each inhale and exhale. Daniel tries to match his breaths; enjoys holding him, the solid weight of him, so much more broader and heavier than when he was driving.

Eventually Max says, "She asked about my family," and Daniel lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, baby."

"And she—she was very unfair and I think very stupid. Just because someone is strict, does not mean they are a bad parent."

"No, yeah, of course," Daniel says carefully. "Did she—is that what she said? That being strict makes you a bad parent?"

Max's leg starts jiggling. "No, she did not—" He breaks off, and pulls his hand from Daniel's hand. "Don't do that, where you try to trick me."

"Baby. I'm not trying to trick you, I'm just. I'm trying to understand, yeah?" Daniel strokes his thumb over the softness of Max's thigh.

"I don't think my dad was a bad dad."

"I know, sweetheart." Daniel does know: knows that trying to argue with Max about this just ends badly, and that he will never, ever come round to Max's point of view.

"I think, so he was not perfect. What parent is perfect? Probably if my therapist has children, probably they hate her and think she is a bitch. So."

"Hey, Maxy. It's ok." Daniel kisses the side of his neck. "We can—look, there are so many therapists out there, yeah? We can find you one who doesn't suck. We've got, like, literally nothing but time and money, right?"

Max sucks in a wobbling breath, and nods, and Daniel holds him, and kisses him, and changes the subject, and makes him laugh. Later Max leaves to work out at the stupid gym he likes, and Daniel goes into their walk-in closet, where for the first time in many years he punches a wall.

#i think writing exercises can be really fun and useful but i wanted more length for this prompt! #& unfortunately for us all it is FREE and LEGAL for me to write what i want #asks #maxiel #my fic #mv33 #dr3 #a hill i will die on: maxiel would get sappy coordinating tattoos