#prompt ficlet

[theminecraftbee]

fae zedaph, avian tango, and/or butterfly impulse?

Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. He breathes in. He breathes out. He looks at Zedaph.

"Okay. Why do you have a baby," Tango says.

"Well, it was an accident!" Zedaph says.

"How! How do you accidentally end up with a baby!" Tango says. He pauses. He considers what he has just said. He revises: "How do you or I accidentally end up with a baby! I am a robot and you are an immortal fairy creature. You can't babyificate. I know. You've checked."

"You don't have to sound so haunted," Zedaph says, vaguely hurt.

"I am very haunted by most of what you do, that's not the point. How did you end up with a baby! I can't take care of a baby, Zedaph! You definitely can't take care of a baby! What are we going to do with a baby?"

Zedaph shuffles his feet. When they'd first met, Tango had been reluctantly impressed with how human Zedaph's mannerisms were for a guy who, at that time, still hadn't been entirely certain you weren't supposed to eat people who were rude to you. He's come a long way since Tango had discovered he was just alive enough to be able to accidentally slip into the feywild, and Zedaph discovered he was actually much happier experimenting in the human world most of the time than dealing with other fair folk and their 'predictable rules' and 'annoying laws of hospitality'.

If Tango wasn't mostly made of steel and cold iron, he probably wouldn't have survived the early encounters with Zedaph. Nowadays, though, it's easy to mistake Zedaph for just an exceptionally weird human. Sure, he still looks at everyone a little bit like they're more of an experiment or strange animal than a person, but that's just Zedaph. Even if he were human, Tango's pretty sure he'd follow his own idiosyncratic laws.

None of this explains why he has a baby.

"Okay, look, it's not my fault this time, I swear," Zedaph says. "It's--look, I was in-town, and there was this guy, and he made a bargain with me! It was a very little bargain! I didn't think he'd break it. Honest! He just wanted gold--"

"Oh no," mutters Tango.

"--and I just told him that I wanted him to take care of a sheep for me without looking at it! I wanted to see what would happen if a sheep grew up without anyone looking at it. Would it want to look at other people more or less? You know my problems with sheep and looking at me."

"I hate that I know where this is going," Tango says.

"And he was all like, oh that's easy, I won't break that bargain. And I remembered what you said about how most people don't like having their babies swapped out with fey, which still doesn't really make sense honestly because I think a baby me is WAY more exciting than a baby human to take care of and also then I can experiment with the baby human but that's not the point. The point is that you said most people would avoid that! So I said, okay, if you break our bargain and look at the sheep, I'll come take your first baby. It's a traditional fey thing! I thought he wouldn't do it! I don't want a baby, I want a traumatized sheep!"

"Sometimes I wonder if my inventor knew my life would end up like this," Tango says.

"So imagine my shock when one day I just--poof--I have a baby!"

"I don't know how to take care of a baby," Tango says. "You absolutely shouldn't be trusted with a baby. What do we do with a baby."

The two of them look at the child.

"I mean, I cast a spell on it so it would sleep?" Zedaph says tentatively. "But to be totally honest with you, I don't actually know how long those last. You know how it is with my magic."

"I have decided this is Impulse's problem," Tango responds after a moment. "We give the baby to Impulse. He's a human. Humans know what to do with babies, right?"

Zedaph gives Tango an extremely skeptical look. "I got this one from a human."

"Impulse will suffer with us," Tango says.

"Sold," Zedaph says. "Let's go give Impulse a surprise baby."

"Please don't phrase it like that," Tango says, and they both start heading in the direction of where Tango thinks Impulse is currently living. Surely, he has the solution to this problem. Surely.

#answered #ask game #prompt ficlet #a bee fic #hermitcraft #zedaph #tangotek #and also a baby i guess #anyway i feel like fae zedaph would get into a bunch fo weird hijinks #so my brain invented. this entire au for that.

[piecesofeden11]

Prompt Ficlet - Ahsoka realizes something

Another prompt by the lovely @wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart, by ask this time <3 The prompt was: How about when Ahsoka realises/discovers that her masters are more than... I went a bit more comedic this time around, maybe to counter all the pain of the last few Ficlets :D As always, I hope you like it! <3

Note: Twiwi is @cal-tastrophe's Jedi OC and I love her dearly! :D

Ahsoka jogs along the walkway that crosses the great entrance hall of the Jedi Temple, glancing at the chrono on her wrist. Kriff, I'm late. Skyguy will give me an earful again.

She scoffs a bit at the thought, given that her Master's track record of being on time was not exactly stellar either, but still hastens her steps. No need to push her luck, after all.

As usual, she feels a weird mix of annoyance and gratitude at the fact that Anakin chose to schedule their saber training for relatively late in the day. It keeps her from being able to join Barris and the others for holonet night's most of the time, but it also means that the salles are nice and empty, especially compared to the mornings, when the Younglings are let loose.

She makes use of the empty hallway to warm up, sprinting and jumping and somersaulting in small bursts, which would have earned her more than one stern warning from superiors if done during the day.

Feeling nice and lose by the time she arrives at the salle, she wastes no time knocking, bursting into the room with a cheerful "Good evening, Master!".

She is more than surprised to find Master Kenobi present tonight. While it is not exactly unusual for him to be close to where her own Master usually is (those two were, after all, former Master and Padawan AND what the Holonet had dubbed the Team, the most famous Jedi Duo in the galaxy). However, Master Kenobi usually spend the evenings during his leave at the archives, getting his, and probably Anakin's, paperwork done.

Ahsoka slips into a more formal demeanor, bowing slightly to the other Master.

"Good evening to you, too, Master Kenobi. I did not expect you to join us today."

Master Kenobi coughs once, clearing his throat.

"Thank you, Padawan. I'm afraid I won't be. I was just..."

He hesitates, glances back at Anakin, then smiles at Ahsoka.

"Anakin had to fill me in on a few details of our last mission. I shall leave you to your training. Good evening, Ahsoka. Anakin, find me at my quarters later for the rest of the... report."

Ahsoka catches the end of a wink as Master Kenobi turns to leave, but she dismisses the detail in favor of giving her own Master a proper greeting and a closer look.

"Are you well, Skyguy?"

Now that they are alone, she slips back into the informal tone she and him have agreed upon. The concern in her voice is genuine, because he looks flushed, his hair slightly messed up and a bit sweaty. His tunic, she also notices, is rumpled and one of his tabbarts hangs off his shoulders.

"Should we rather cancel training...?"

"Don't be silly, Snips. I'm fine, all fine. Let's go, common! Form I, defending. Begin!"

He was distracting her, she could tell immediately, but she complies and goes into position, easily flowing through the form.

"Good, now Form II", he calls, sounding absent. When she glances over, she finds him fiddling with the com on his arm. Frowning, she goes through the second form, sloppy but still correctly.

"Excellent", he calls out and, predictably, adds: "Now Form III, go."

This time, Ahsoka deliberately botches the form, messing it up to the point where she feels herself almost recoil from the errors.

Landing close to him, she shuts her saber off and waits in silence for a moment, until Anakin looks at her. He smiles, nods and says: "Well done Padawan."

Ahsoka clips her saber to her belt and crosses her arms.

"You know, you could at least tell me if you're not in a mood. I can do drills on my own, or find something else to do for the evening."

She expects him to argue and is surprised when he simply sighs and hangs his head a bit.

"Sorry, Snips. You're right. I am distracted and that wasn't fair to you. I'll give you the evening off and I promise to be less absent tomorrow, okay? Feel free to train on your own but you have my permission to go out, if you need it!"

She narrows her eyes, giving him another onceover. Something is off about him.

Nevertheless, she bows and then smiles softly.

"Thank you, and please, get some sleep. You do look pretty winded and you have a rash coming up, too!"

She points at her own neck to imply the same on his and his hand creeps up to the spot, covering it with widening eyes.

"Oh, uhm, yeah. I'll have Kix have a look! See you in the morning, Snips!"

They part ways and Ahsoka makes it back to the Padawan quarters just in time for the newest episode of Attachment in the Airlock, their favorite Holo-Drama about two Jedi Generals secretly in love, hiding in supply closets and behind crates to live out their secret romance. It is hilariously bad and the Padawans have a great time tearing it apart for inaccuracies and hyperbole.

"I think my Master is coming down with a fever", Ahsoka says during a commercial break, causing several heads to swivel her ways.

"Oh no", says Twiwi Aanta in her distinct nasal voice, the small-ish Rodian girl perpetually afraid of germs.

"What makes you say that?", Barris adds, returning from the kitchen with a new bowl of fluffkernels.

"Well, when I arrived for training today, he was all red and flushed, kinda sweaty too. He also has this rash on his neck." Ahsoka points at the spot again. The others crinkle their noses in disgust and she nods in agreement. "Yeah, I hope it's nothing serious. But Master Kenobi was there already when I got there, I'm sure he will check up on Skyguy."

There is a beat of silence, before several of the Padawans begin to laugh and even Barris hides her mouth behind a hand. Ahsoka blinks, staring at them all in confusion.

"What? What's so funny? My Master might be sick!"

"Ahsoka...", Barris says between chuckles.

"I think you Master might be playing Attachment in the Airlock with Master Kenobi."

The laughter in the room gets louder, while Ahsoka ponders that thought. Her eyes widened, several other instances flashing in her mind of situations between her Master and his own.

"You mean..."

"Pretty sure, yeah." "Stars.", says Ahsoka. "Oh no", says Twiwi.

"I mean, they do look very good together", says Barris and hands Ahsoka the snack bowl.

#eden rambles #my writing #prompt ficlet #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obikin #ahsoka tano

[theresawritesstuff]

How about this one randomly chosen from "Awkward First Meetings AUs" list just added to sherlollylists:

“I’ve never talked to you before but the teacher just used us as an example for a scenario where we are married.”

OR

“I needed a drink of water after my shower but I forgot that I opened the blinds to my balcony and you just saw me walk into my kitchen naked.”

Oh these are so fun! Thanks for the prompt! ❤️

Sherlock sipped his cup of stale coffee and scrolled through his texts as he lounged against the wall towards the back of the room, looking for anything worth his attention while Lestrade fumbled his way through the mandatory workplace conduct seminar HR had ordered for everyone working with Scotland Yard.

And apparently that meant everyone. Himself included.

God only knows why.

He barely talked to Lestrade when working a case, let alone any of his underlings. He certainly wasn't going to waste time with–what were they talking about now?

He glanced up briefly.

Ah yes, interoffice romance.

A fool's game if there ever was one.

"But what if they're married?" Anderson piped up, raising his hand.

Anderson, really. Shut up.

"Now that actually raises a good point," Lestrade said, glancing at the representative from HR.

"Well, um…Sherlock, get down here."

Sherlock looked up. "Hm?"

"Just come over here."

Feeling the expectant eyes around the room fall on him, Sherlock put away his phone and came to the front of the room.

"Right. So let's say Sherlock here was married to…Molly! Would you mind?"

"Wassthatnow?" a petite brunette jerked herself awake from the desk she'd been dosing on.

"Just a quick demonstration," Lestrade assured her.

"Oh. Okay sure. Sorry…"

Sherlock eyed her curiously as she came to stand beside him.

Working the graveyard shift. 

Callous on her right hand likely from the use of a scalpel. 

Practical shoes. Hair swept back. Tidy. 

Pale.

Layered jumper despite it being summer. Working in a cooler environment. 

Pathologist.

"Right, so let's say Sherlock and Molly here are married and working on a case together. Maybe they have some downtime while they're waiting for some analysis or other to finish up."

She let out a squeak as Lestrade ushered her next to Sherlock, stumbling slightly. 

"Oh! Um…hi. I'm Molly. I guess I'm your wife," she greeted shyly with a chipper smile.

Christ she was tiny. Elfen even.

The harsh fluorescents were doing those wide brown eyes of hers no favors, though he suspected they'd be rather captivating in the sun or perhaps under candlelight…

He blinked the thought away.

"Sherlock," he introduced.

"So obviously these two snogging in the supply closet would still be frowned upon," Lestrade went on, earning a chuckle from the room. "But in this scenario if they wanted to, I dunno, hold hands."

Molly looked up at him in question with those wide eyes of hers, prompting him to awkwardly take her hand.

Nimble fingers entwined with his, squeezing lightly in reassurance. 

It was a surprisingly comforting gesture.

He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"That would be okay, yeah?" Lestrade asked the room. "Or if Sherlock wanted to pay his wife a compliment, as long as it was still workplace appropriate…"

Sherlock felt his mouth go dry, looking down at her, his usually lightning quick brain stuttering on the uptake.

It wasn't that there wasn't anything to compliment, but rather too much to choose from.

"Um…your hair looks nice today, darling."

Molly's smile grew, her cheeks tinging the subtlest shade of pink. "Thank you."

Wow.

Were his palms sweating? He couldn't recall that ever being an affliction of his but he was suddenly vary aware of the possibility…

Lestrade clapped his hands together loudly, unknowingly pulling Sherlock out of his brief mental spiral. "Right. Okay. Does that help? Basically if you're an already established couple and you've cleared everything with HR, keep it G rated and you'll be fine. Otherwise just keep your thoughts and extremities to yourself. Does that about sum it up?"

The representative from HR checked her clipboard. "Yeah alright, good enough. I need to pick my kid up from rugby practice."

"Alright. Good. You're all dismissed," Lestrade said, barely masking his relief.

Sherlock realized he was still holding Molly's hand and let go abruptly, clearing his throat.

"So, um…what is it you do Sherlock?" she asked conversationally as she gathered her things.

"Consulting detective."

He gulped down a swig from his cup, making a face as he tossed the rest.

She smiled sympathetically at his display of disgust. "I know a place up the block that's got better coffee. I-if you want. I wasn't trying to make a pass at you. I just meant–"

"Better coffee sounds terrific actually," he replied. "And if my wife recommends it, I should probably give it a chance, right?"

"Only if you want to stay married," she quipped.

He found himself smiling at the joke. "Care to join me?"

She smiled brightly, shouldering her bag and something in his stomach flipped, leaving him feeling oddly… fuzzy. 

"Sure. I'd love that."

#Sherlolly #Prompt ficlet

[moonluringfrost]

8: Old Friend

This spotify ficlet is based in the scorpion grass universe. Point of View: One of Myosotis's 'friends'. Content warning for unreality/questioning one's memory, mentions of blood, and implied death. Requested by @superflytrap, I hope you enjoy~

It’s like he never existed. You know that can’t be right. He had to have existed. You were best friends for years. You can clearly remember him, and everything the two of you did together. 

But… he left so suddenly. He was right there with you one second, gone the next. There’s no way he would have had time to take all of his stuff and move out. But his stuff is still gone. 

You practically tore your apartment upside down looking for a trace of him. Even if he had taken all of his stuff, he had to have missed something. A stray sock, the back of one of his earrings, something… 

Like blood. You blink and it’s gone. Blood? Why would there be blood? Nothing happened. There was never any blood. 

Your apartment feels uncomfortably empty without him. 

You try checking all the places you used to go together. The cd store, the arcade, that one rooftop that’s perfect for watching the city at night, and you never see him. No one you ask seems to remember him coming with you to these places, either. When you ask, they wonder if you’re talking about someone else. Someone who unfortunately died a while ago. But you know it’s not the same person. Your friend was obviously alive. 

Wasn’t he? 

Maybe you are going insane. 

No, that can’t be right. 

He was real, he was. You can’t touch a figment of your imagination and you know you didn’t imagine him reaching out to grab you during a horror movie so you’d jump. Didn’t imagine him playfully punching you in the shoulder when you made a bad joke. Didn’t imagine holding him while he shook and shook because something scared him. 

There’s no way. 

And maybe you’re fixating on this because of how abruptly he left. He never said anything, never showed any hint that he might not be happy with you. He just vanished. 

Was it something you did wrong? 

You’re pretty sure it was. Why else would he leave you so abruptly? Unless… unless something bad happened to him? 

It hurts to think about. Something pushing at the edge of your mind, a vision of him bloodlessly pale except for all the places he’s red with it. He was hurt. How did you not notice he was hurt? 

Some friend you are. You didn’t do anything to help him. 

Maybe that’s why he left. He was dying and you didn’t do anything to help him. 

Why didn’t you remember what happened? 

You should try harder to remember, it’s the least you could do. 

Yes, you’ll have to do your best to remember him. 

You won’t let yourself mourn, you don’t deserve it. But you’ll remember. You will. 

Maybe if you remember well enough, he’ll come home. 

#prompt ficlet #scorpion grass #ask game #let's call this semi-canon

[angrykittykrys]

"This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last."

For Masakou >:)

For you my friend, I'll deliver on the Masakou! Silliness and a sulky Masahiro ahead!

Why had he ever thought that living in the Ohshiba house with the open door policy and constant flood of people coming and going would be a good thing? While it was true that he loved Ken and Mom and wanted to feel like he was part of such a strong, loving family, it was equally true that he loved Kousuke most of all. And how in the hell were they supposed to find any alone time when every single kiss or touch was interrupted by some friend or family member randomly walking into a room? Even their room wasn’t safe! Ken had a habit of knocking once and then just flinging the door open when he wanted to talk to him about something. Masahiro didn’t really want to do it, but he was considering asking Kousuke if they could get a lock for their door.

“This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last,” Kousuke said with a sigh as they left the house after one such interruption. “As long as we live with Ken, privacy isn’t really possible.”

It was almost comical that Kousuke was the one comforting him. Usually he was the one tasked with calming down the older man’s sullen attitude after being stopped from enjoying some intimacy. But he couldn’t help himself! It was the first anniversary of the day they had officially gotten together. He had made plans and done his best to make sure he had gotten both Ken and Miho out of the house for the night. A romantic dinner followed by him taking the lead in the bedroom, that had been the plan! But Hasekura had come down with a cold and Ken had come home… and then flung open their door to announce his return. Thankfully both of their pants had still been on, more or less, or it could have been a lot worse. But still! It just wasn’t fair.

“But it’s our anniversary,” he grumbled, lengthening his stride as he walked faster down the street. “Just because Ken doesn’t care as much about these things doesn’t mean other people don’t! And now the mood is ruined!”

Kousuke was quiet as he followed at his side. He kept pace easily, but kept sneaking glances at him between puffs of his cigarette. “I know we haven’t done it in awhile, but we could always just stay at a love hotel for the night,” he suggested.

Masahiro stopped in his tracks and turned a wide eyed stare on his boyfriend. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Probably because most of the times they had stayed at a love hotel had ended in embarrassment and worry that they might be seen. But… at least they wouldn’t be interrupted by a sweet, but air-headed Ken. And even if all his preparations were laying on the bedside table in their bedroom, the love hotel would probably have most of what he wanted anyway.

“Only if we turn off our phones so we don’t get interrupted again.”

Kousuke looped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into his side. “I didn’t even bring mine with me. All I could think about was that look on your face as you were telling me all the things you were planning to do to me.”

“Do you think we can find one close by?” A blush was staining his cheeks, but not because he was embarrassed. He too was now thinking about all the things he had been planning to do, and he wanted to get to them as soon as possible.

A grin spread across Kousuke’s face. “I just so happen to know one that’s only a block away.”

“As long as the door has a lock, and we can get there in under ten minutes, I’ll take it.”

Kousuke sighed. “Yeah, yeah… I’ll buy a lock after work tomorrow.”

He didn’t even have to ask! What a great anniversary gift that would be… the promise of uninterrupted lovemaking with the person he loved most in the world.

#prompt ficlet #hitorijime boyfriend #masakou #silly fluff #for my friend

[ailendolin]

Prompt ficlet

This is for @andietries who asked for a fic about the Paynes & Archibald going to Ennythingos. They don't actually end up going there in the ficlet but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Next up:

so dramatic: [character] complains about their cold. - Humphrey

dreamer: [character] talks in their sleep. - Kitty

vacancy: [character] forgets where they are. - Mary

Please be okay: [Fanny] isn’t feeling well, causing them to act differently.

Careful care: it’s hard for [Thomas] to accept help. [Francis] knows which care methods are “acceptable”. 

Ask Games are here & here. Filled prompts are here & here on AO3.

________

The Party

“Sir, if I may have a word –“

“If it’s about that damned party again, the answer is no,” Mr Payne said without looking up from his writing.

Archibald hesitated. He was here because of that damned party as his master had so eloquently put it but that was only one of the reasons. Mostly, he was here for young Christopher. The lad was locked inside his room right now, trying very hard to muffle his tears against the pillow so no one would hear him cry. Archibald knew Christopher had been looking forward to the party – an official celebration of his university class’s graduation, really –for weeks now. Only yesterday, he had confided in him just how much it would mean to him to have his father there for the Hat Throwing Ceremony.

And now, barely half an hour ago, Mr Payne had crushed those hopes.

“I would rather go and visit that bumbling fool Bernard than set one foot into the den of iniquity that is Ennythingos,” he had said derisively. When Christopher had opened his mouth to argue Mr Payne had stopped him with a sharp look. “That’s my final word on the matter, Christopher. You are dismissed.”

After a heart-breaking moment of hoping his father would change his mind, Christopher had hung his head, sniffed once and left the room with drooping shoulders. As Archibald had silently watched him go, he’d vowed to find a way to fix this. The poor lad had been through enough pain and disappointment in his young life already. He deserved a day of joy and celebrations.

“Sir, with all due respect – I think you might have gotten the wrong impression of the event on Friday,” Archibald said carefully, very much aware that he was risking his master’s anger by pursuing this matter.

Unsurprisingly, Mr Payne raised one unimpressed eyebrow as he put down his pen. “Have I, Archibald? It’s obvious why Christopher and his friends chose that … that place for it. They plan on getting drunk out of their minds and I will have no part in that.”

Archibald took a tentative step forward towards the desk Mr Payne was sitting behind. “They didn’t, actually – choose the place, I mean. The Dean did after part of the town hall’s ceiling came down during rehearsals last week. Ennythingos is the only place with a town hall of similar size and capacity that was available at such short notice.” He paused to gauge his master’s reaction before he went on, a little more softly. “The kids might go out after the ceremony to celebrate, yes, but that’s never mattered to Christopher.”

“Didn’t it?” Mr Payne asked sceptically.

“No, sir,” Archibald said softly. “All Christopher wants is to have you there so he can share this important moment of his life with you. He wants you to see the hat being thrown onto his head, wants you to cheer him on as all the other parents do. Your presence and support mean the world to him, sir.”

Mr Payne was silent for a very long moment that had Archibald holding his breath. “And you are certain of this, Archibald? Because I refuse to let myself be manipulated into chaperoning my son and a bunch of other kids just so they can get drunk on overpriced alcohol that is bound to be mediocre in quality at best.”

“I’m sure, sir,” Archibald promised. “Christopher just wants you to be there.”

He didn’t tell Mr Payne that what Christopher actually wanted and desperately needed was for his father to be proud of him, just once in his life. That was something Mr Payne had to figure out on his own, as much as it pained Archibald to admit. Sometimes, he wished he could knock some sense into his master just so he would see what a brilliant and kind son he had, and how much he longed for a kind word and loving touch.

“Very well,” Mr Payne said at last and Archibald breathed a sigh of relief. “I will accompany Christopher on Friday. I trust you will take care of the travel arrangements, Archibald?”

“Of course, sir,” Archibald smiled. “I’ll get right to it.”

“Good,” Mr Payne said. “And let’s hope you are right about my son’s … motivations.”  

Archibald left the room with a newfound spring in his steps and the excited buzzing of bees in his ears as they passed on the happy news among themselves. He couldn’t wait to tell Christopher and see the lad’s bright, boyish smile finally replace the heartbreak, at least for a little while.

#archibald #mr payne #christopher payne #the bird and the bee #yonderland #my fic #ask game prompt ficlet #prompt ficlet

[northofallmusic]

for ficlet prompt: WenZhou playing Valley Master who's been captured by Tian Chuang?

ok well I'm VERY late to filling the prompts I got, which is also Classic E of me. but alright alright let's go!

Putting this straight on ao3 since it's on the long side. Apologies if there's any content you're not into; I usually check, but since it's an anonymous prompt... well. It's also more about the idea of that roleplay than the roleplay itself, but i hope it's satisfying!

through the skin to the heart of it (1249 words) by northofallmusic

Fandom: 天涯客 | Faraway Wanderers - priest Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu Additional Tags: Cock Warming, Dirty Talk, about..., Sexual Roleplay, Torture, Genital Torture, Needles, Drugged Sex, but also contains..., Past Abuse, Implied Past Rape/Non-Con

Summary:

"A-Xu," Wen Kexing says, drowsy and loose-feeling, able to let his mouth say whatever it wants, "do you ever think about torturing me?"

Zhou Zishu groans quietly. "Constantly—you're so annoying."

Wen Kexing smiles. He presses his nose into Zhou Zishu's hair, inhales. "Why don't you?"

#wenzhou #prompt ficlet #tian ya ke #my fic #asked

[the-angst-chronicles-fanworks]

Steve likes to take dates to the carnivals and he always tries to win them stuffed toys because he’s cheesy and romantic and proud of it thank you very much

Only, he’s absolute ass at the carnival games. He’s only ever managed to win an ugly little cap, and Tiffany had not been amused when he’d presented it to her. It never stopped him from trying of course, but it’s a little discouraging

Fast forward to now, when he’s recruited by Claudia Henderson to drag the party out to the carnival. Robin refuses to join him because “I finally have a date Steve, I’m not going to spend it chaperoning your walking headaches”. So he recruited Eddie

Of course, the party doing want to be chaperoned and they’re really old enough to go to a carnival by themselves, so he agrees to let them go off by themselves as long as they stay out of trouble.

So he and Eddie go on a few rides and grab a bite to eat, and Eddie eats like three ice cream cones and feels too queasy for more rides. So Steve decides to practice carnival games so he can win something for the next babe he brings on a date.

With Eddie cheering him on as obnoxiously and flirtatiously as he can, Steve starts playing. And he starts winning. Not just the little prizes either. Along with normal sized stuffed bears and bats and what-have-yous, he also gets a comically large stuffed rainbow unicorn wearing sunglasses, a long dragon plushie that’s taller than he is, and other oversized paraphernalia

Since he isn’t here with a date, Steve just gives all his winnings to Eddie. Eddie jokes about how this was the most romantic date he’s ever been on (only it’s not really a joke, this not-date is more romantic than any of his trysts). Then Eddie starts complaining that Steve needs to stop winning because how is he supposed to carry all this? By the time they meet up with the kids, Eddie isn’t even visible behind the mass of prizes in his arms. He stumbles over, guided by Steve’s hand in his back, wrapped in the giant dragon, and the kids mock the both of them ruthlessly

Eddie keeps all the toys and names then after the party just to bug them. Steve delighted with that, and together they always tease the kids (“wooow, rainbow unicorn Dustin would never do this” is a favourite because it makes Dustin apoplectic)

When they start dating, Eddie keeps telling people that Steve “gave me 6 kids before finally putting a ring on it”

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #prompts #ficlets #This ended up more rambling than expected

[nerdpoe]

Put That Thing Back Where it Came From or So Help Me-

Constantine was pacing back and forth in the waiting room, hands flying as he went over the rules of dealing with Infinite Realm Nobility for the eighteenth time.

Bruce tried to pay attention, really. But he'd already memorized this speech of the Laughing Magicians, and all there was really left to do was wait for their turn to meet the High King.

A flash of movement caught Bruce's attention, and he found his eyes drawn to a completely human teenager meandering his way from one of the side doors and towards the refrigerator stocked with "mortal friendly snacks".

Bruce kept quiet as he heard the teen muttering to himself about "aw yeah fuck yeah fiji water fuck yes", and let Constantine drone on and on about how they were probably the first mortals the King had ever met.

The teenager behind the ranting man stocked his arms full of Fiji water, chips, and cosmic brownies.

Then the Teen turned and realized Bruce was watching him.

Bruce shook his head minutely.

The teen slowly turned back to the fridge and put everything but the Fiji water back. That and the cosmic brownie.

Cautious blue eyes met his, and the kid raised an eyebrow.

Bruce scowled.

The brownie was quickly replaced with a banana.

Bruce gave a slight nod and looked away.

The teen darted back through the side door.

He didn't know who the kid was, but eating healthy was important. And, okay, maybe his own experience with kids had shoved its way to the front of his brain and taken over.

At least the random teenager in the Land of the Dead would have a healthy snack.

Two more minutes passed before the small entourage was allowed into the antechamber.

A glowing, floating boy was hovering just above the throne. White hair, glowing green eyes, a crown that looked like it was made of shattered pieces of space glittering above his head-and a poorly hidden half empty bottle of Fiji water peeking out at them from behind the throne, kept company by a single banana.

...Huh.

He had either told the Kings servant what to feed the King, or...

"Welcome to the Infinite Realms, I am Phantom, High King. For what reason do you seek an audience?"

Oh. Nope, nevermind on the servant theory. That was the kids voice.

Bruce had directly told the King of an entire dimension what he could and could not eat.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #story prompt #phanfic #ficlet #idk had an idea dunno where it'd go #it anyone wants to finish it ur welcome to it

[theminecraftbee]

minotaur Joe for the fanon swap prompts? i feel like he'd do something very philosophical and Joe(tm) about mythology. or butterfly/moth Joe?

After waking up with a headache and looking in the mirror to shave, Joe pauses. He stares at his reflection in the mirror. For the past several days, he hadn't thought anything of it; it's usual enough, for a hermit to start to get weird as the day of the start of a new project approaches. Why, if all that moon stuff hadn't happened, Joe can only imagine what growing snakes would have been like for Cleo.

He wonders if it was anything like this: Joe wakes up, stretches, hears weird clacking as he goes to the bathroom, goes to grab his razor, and rather abruptly realizes that he doesn't have a beard, or, rather, that since he now has a bull's head, he has far more beard than can possibly be reasonably shaved, and he should throw the whole concept of 'shaving a beard' out the window.

"Huh," he says. "I guess growing horns does give people a headache? Who knew?"

If his voice is wavering as he says it, well, no one's around to hear. They're between seasons, and while Joe is sharing a server with several hermits at the moment, his mountain lodge doesn't have much by way of neighbors. He's alone to have this horrible revelation.

"How will the bunny ears look with the bull head?" he asks himself. He tries to picture the result and, determining it a little less existentially terrifying than a sudden, unplanned change of species, decides to put them on. He nods. "I am a Playboy Minotaur," he mutters to himself. "I am confident! Composed! Perhaps even a sexyman? Eh, I'll workshop it. I wonder if there's better-matching armor for this..."

He hitches in his morning routine when he realizes the weird clacking he'd been hearing had been hooves. Realistically, he should now be wondering how well any of his boots will fit, now that he doesn't really have toes, and if he needs to be shoed, like a horse might, to protect the hooves from damage instead. Realistically, he should be contacting Iskall about whatever modifications need to be made for the remainder of his time hunting vaults before season 10 starts. Realistically, he should be hunting down one of the less-human hermits and asking if eating burgers to gain levels is now cannibalism. All of these things are realistic concerns that he can bother people about right now, if he wants to!

Unrealistically, he's thinking more about a conversation he'd had with Cub the other day as he stares at his hooves, hands shaking far, far more than he'd care to admit.

They'd been arguing about who Daedalus was.

It had started when they started planning together. Joe had mentioned wanting to build a labyrinth a little bit ago, and Cub, who apparently loved building mazes, was going to help out with the planning. With any luck, all of the hermits were going to help build it! He'd rambled about giving himself a bit of themeing about Theseus as a result, about conquering this whole labyrinth build, this project he'd designed not to really have an end. About having to guide himself in and out through twisting tunnels.

Cub had then pointed out that if Joe had been building it, that technically makes him Daedalus; the one guy who knew the layout, the genius inventor building the trap for the server, designing its hallways. Joe had argued that was who Cub would be; Cub is the expert madman inventor being brought on, and Joe just like, wanted to build a maze. Cub had said that that sort of made Joe Minos then, but given season seven, the guy who once got cursed to turn everything he touched to gold didn't feel very fitting. Joe had agreed it hadn't fit. Maybe they'd split Daedalus then, if Theseus was a little too thematically muddled?

They'd laughed about it. Joe hadn't really intended for the maze to be based on myth, anyway. That would be stealing Cleo's bit, and he knows better than to do that.

And yet.

"We didn't consider I might be the Minotaur," Joe says to no one in particular. "You know. Of the figures associated with the Labyrinth, we didn't consider the big bull trapped in the middle. I should tell Cub we forgot about that one. It'll be a real laugh."

He can't quite say out loud the thing he's really thinking, which is this:

Well, if the universe has decided the guy with the maze won't be the hero, or the inventor, or the king, but the bull it was designed to trap--well. What's that say about him, exactly, in symbology?

"Maybe it's just in reference to the vaults," he says, trying to hype himself up. It falls a little flat. He takes a deep breath. He realizes he's still holding his razor, even after crossing his house to get the bunny ears. He goes to put the razor down and catches sight of his head in the mirror once again.

Monstrous. He's friends with a lot of monsters, of course; he's known Cleo for more than a decade. And his mannerisms, they're still him. But right then, in that moment...

He pokes the bunny ears.

"I am the Playboy Minotaur," he says, more insistently. "Didn't Iskall have that dress he had covered in flowers? That's what's really important here. That, and the obligatory cannibalism if I want to reach the level 100 goal in time, of course. The Minotaur clearly ate meat, despite being a cow, and ate people, despite being half person, but we really know nothing about what cow would do to my diet. Hold on, I have a very confusing message I can write Iskall about this one."

He deliberately turns away from the mirror and goes to write Iskall something that will explain nothing at all, and then tell Cub about their oversight. It's not like he can change it now.

#answered #ask game #hermitcraft #joe hills #a bee fic #prompt ficlet #minotaur joe is VERY GOOD given. his season 10 plans. you know #man builds a labyrinth. somewhat concerned and upset to discover that he's the guy who's going to be trapped in it.

[ikiprian]

Clark is taking Kon and Jon out for a classic, super-style bonding flight. Just a quick jaunt around the US and back!

They don’t get far. Somewhere in Illinois airpace, they run across another family.

The three (a hulking man, a snarky teenage boy, and a cackling youngest girl, each a grayscale blur in the blue, blue sky) throw neon-lit beams of energy at one another, quips and insults flying almost as fast as they do. It looks like training. It looks like fun!

The boy of them looks like a younger version of the man. Exactly like, even. Clark is familiar with clones.

The youngest, a girl, looks like both of them, but not quite. Perhaps she will, age sharpening her childish features, but it’s hard to say. More likely, she’s the man’s daughter.

Interested, Clark introduces himself to Dan. He seems to be a hero in his own right, even if Superman’s yet to see him in action. And it’s not often Clark sees a family so like his own!

#post agit but with the hc that dans ghost form stays the same! big and scary! #clark: oh! you’re a clone? here meet kon he’s also a clone! #clark: [pushes kon toward danny] teen boy clones! you should exchange instasnaps or smth. or facebooks! kids still use that to chat right? #danielle: is this identity theft. and if so. can i steal dans ID i wanna be the evil version from an alternate timeline now #dp x dc #dpxdc #prompt #dpxdc prompt #kipwrite #less of a ficlet more of an interesting observation and funny potential misunderstanding. which actually still counts now that i think of it #whatever sorry ive been busy!! #danny fenton #dark danny #danielle fenton #clark kent #kon el #jon kent #realizing now i hardly ever spell his name connor. hm

[theresawritesstuff]

fifty-four

"It's not all going to fit." Lenny watched as his wife and mother in law's numerous suitcases flowed out the door, bound for Steiner.

"I ran the model multiple times. It's going to fit!" Abe insisted.

Midge appeared from the nursery, plopping another three bags onto the pile yet to be taken to the car.

Abe looked at the additions in dismay. "What's all this?"

"Diapers," Midge answered simply.

"Diapers..."

Abe trudged off to rerun his model with the new additions.

"Are you excited for your first trip to Steiner sweetie?" Midge cooed, taking their infant daughter from Lenny's shoulder.

Lenny smirked as his offspring made a face quite similar to his own before his induction into the Weissman family tradition.

"Oh, you're going to love it. Trust me," Midge laughed.

Abe returned, looking frazzled but triumphant. "If you and your mother each forgo two hats and a purse, we can squeeze in the diapers."

"Fine." Midge looked her daughter in the eye. "For you, Mommy can wear the same hat twice."

Noah poked his head in from the hall. "Pop! Come on. Mom's getting impatient."

"Tell her to leave at least two hats and a purse!"

"She's not gonna go for that," Noah replied.

"It's for her granddaughter!"

"She's already packed it in the trailer. We're three suitcases deep."

Abe sighed tiredly, retreating to the other room.

"He's going to run the model again, isn't he?" Lenny chuckled.

Noah picked up two bags from the stack with an easy shrug. "Some things never change."

#midge x lenny #Weissman family antics #Prompt ficlet

[moonluringfrost]

5: Light that match

This spotify ficlet is set in the Scorpion Grass Universe. Ametrine's point of view. content warnings: mentions of death.

this was requested by: @forthesanityofstorytellers. I hope you enjoy!

You’re shaking. Shuddering breaths coming out as sobs. Your face is wet, tears falling from your face dark with the soot it draws away from your skin. 

You clench your fists, empty now though they shouldn’t be. 

You weren’t expecting a betrayal like this. 

That thing is crafty, you knew this wouldn’t be easy, but for him to try to strike you down like this. To impose such rules on you as to make you helpless against something so big. 

Oh, you’ll hurt him for this. 

He thinks that just because this is his soul he can make all the rules? Ha. You’ve been doing this for longer than him. 

You clench your teeth into a bitter smile as you stand up, brushing soot off of your dress. 

None of this damage is permanent. Grace courses through the two of you like ichor, and he will reform himself exactly as he was. Frozen in time from the moment he ascended from abomination to shield. 

You rinse your hands in the same creek that killed him, letting the soot of his memories run off  like swirling ink. 

You can use this. He won’t remember who he is for a while, will he? You can use that. 

He’ll feel safe until it dawns on him what he is, what he was. 

You might be weak, you might not have completely freed yourself of your emotions, but you’ve never gone against the natural order like he has. 

You’ll have to remind him as painfully as possible. 

Theodore Ellis will regret betraying you, regret betraying Patience like he has. 

And he’ll only have himself to blame for it. 

After all, you’re only the sharp edge of grace. Who you cut as a knife isn’t up to you. 

Oh. That’s right, you’ve gotten distracted. The boy comes second, he has to. You can’t forget what you’re really here for. 

That thing has your lighter. And thanks to that wretched shield, you can’t use your grace in here without it. 

You’ll need to get it back. 

Which means finding it. 

Your tears have dried, your breathing steady. 

Your knees no longer hurt where they hit the ground. You are steady, you are calm, you are grace incarnate. 

You can do this. You can save them. 

Failure is not an option. 

Closing your eyes to send out your senses, you try to twist the soul to your will. 

Where once the charred trees stood straight, they begin to hunch, to reach. 

Excellent. Even the soul of a shield can’t resist your strength. The trees will lead you to Patience, you just need to follow them. 

You won’t let yourself get distracted again. 

#prompt ficlet #scorpion grass

[angrykittykrys]

❝ it’s a beautiful night. ❞

for any of our matching otps <3

For my bestie! I was torn between UsaMamo and KazuFumi, but another friend said to go with the student/teacher, so I did!! I hope you enjoy it, my love!

"It's a beautiful night."

Fumino was standing out on the balcony, a blanket wrapped around her body as she watched the snow drift down from the iron gray sky. In just two days she and Teppei would be leaving Sensei's home to stay with Tomo-kun. It was impossible to believe that the life they had shared with Sensei was being put to a stop this way, but it was, and there was nothing any of them could do to change it.

At the sound of her husband's voice, Fumino turned slightly. Just enough to let him know that she had heard him, but not enough for him to see the tears staining her cheeks. It wasn't as though showing him the pain she was feeling would let them stay together. It would only serve to hurt him as much as she was hurting.

"I wanted to watch the snow from our balcony one last time," she said quietly, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "It won't be the same at Tomo-kun's place."

She heard the sliding glass door shut, and suddenly he was beside her, grabbing at the blanket so he could slide in next to her in the gentle warmth. Once they were cuddled close and she could feel his muscled chest pressed tight against her back, he nuzzled his face into her hair. It was his small way of letting her know that even wrapped up together, he still wanted to be closer.

"You're coming back home to me," he promised, squeezing his arms that were wrapped tight around her waist. "This isn't a goodbye, just a see you later."

"Because... I'm your wife?" The words came out in a broken whisper as the tears began running down her cheeks in earnest.

His lips brushed against her collar bone, neck, chin, cheek, ear and forehead, a promise in each press of his lips to her skin. His tongue darted out to clear the tears from her cheeks and he kissed the corner of her eye. "You are my wife and... I love you."

He said it so rarely, not nearly enough to fill up the empty spaces she was going to have without him. But even so, she clung to the words and buried them deep in her heart. The reminder that it wasn't just her that clung to him, that wanted to come back to this apartment after their forced separation was over, would carry her through the difficult time ahead.

"It really is a beautiful night," she agreed finally, leaning back into his arms. "Should we stay out and enjoy it a little longer?"

He kissed her forehead once more, rubbing his cheek against her skin. "As long as you want, Fumino-san. I'm in no hurry to go anywhere."

#prompt ficlet #faster than a kiss #for shannon <3 #set at the beginning of chapter 52 in the manga

[akela-nakamura]

DPxDC Prompt

Summoning is an imperfect art, mispronouncing a name or having an incorrect symbol can lead to unexpected, and sometimes explosive results. Summoning can open unexpected doors. No one's prepared for what--or who--steps through when a rising gang tries to summon backup.

My little ficlet for this is below the cut:

Smoke. The acrid slam of it in the nose, brought on by the screaming wind. Chanting. A chorus of voices, steady and thrumming. Pain. Everything is hazy, and it’s equal odds on it being from the smoke or the potential head injury. 

Bruce stumbles to his feet, body throbbing. 

This was not how he’d planned this night. 

Of course, he hadn’t planned for Gotham to suddenly be overrun with a new…gang? They claimed to be a government organization, but Bruce has his doubts. He hadn’t had a chance to go through the GIW’s information, but according to Barbara, their claims were sketchy at best.

The shouting about ghosts and waving around sci-fi weapons with no trigger discipline certainly didn’t help their claims. 

Government organization or not, they had no right to raid homes, to drag people out onto the street, or overall threaten his city.

His ears ring, and the chanting rises in volume, impossibly. His chest reverbes with the sound. It’s steady enough to feel like a second heart. His blurry vision locks onto the center of the summoning circle. Because this night couldn’t get any worse, of course. 

First the GIW had rocketed up his list of threats with one simple move. 

They’d gone after Jason.

Jason, who even now was laid out in the middle of the summoning circle, eyes bright, bright, bright green through the haze. 

First they’d taken his son. 

Then they’d used him as a sacrifice. 

Bruce bared his teeth, locking eyes with the closest GIW agent. The man held up his weapon, a glowing baton. His form is weak. 

The baton gord flying, Bruce’s armored elbow slamming the man to the ground. The agent curls up, groaning. Nightwing’s escrima sing electric in the background, followed by the whip of Tim’s bow staff. Damian’s sword glints through the haze, and purple flashes through the crowd of white, white, white. 

He can’t see Cass, but he doesn’t expect too. 

The ground rocks under his feet, and it takes several precious seconds to regain his balance. There seems to be an almost endless flood of agents, with more and more meeting his fists as he tries to make it through the gauntlet. 

Suddenly, the air shifts, the scream of it heading for the circle instead of out. 

The circle glows toxic green, and Jason’s at the center, frozen in the light. 

“No!” Bruce shouts, the sound ripping from his soul. 

It’s echoed by Dick, who stands just outside the circle’s boundaries. His hands are pressed against the light, his blue eyes a shock against the green. 

It’s a confusion of people - GIW white and the summoner’s black. The GIW is here to end whatever it is they need Jason to summon to them. The summoners themselves seem to have broken away from the “agency” and want power from the being they’re calling. It’s a fight on multiple fronts, with the GIW fighting the summoners and Bruce and his family fighting them all. 

The temperature drops. 

“HOOD!” Dick screams, as Jason is swallowed by the green. 

The chant is all he can hear, even as he shoves towards the circle, even as he slams against the same wall Dick’s against. 

The world goes bright and he can’t keep his eyes on Jason. On his son. 

When the light fades, Jason’s not alone. 

A being sits six feet in the air, Jason collapsed over his lap, somehow hovering with the - what is he? He looks human, but there’s something wrong. Off. Bruce can’t quite pinpoint his age. A crown glows on his head, an ever shifting cape spills down his back, dragging close to the floor. His eyes are green as Lazarus, and just as deep. Jason is breathing, Bruce notes. The being’s hands curl in Jason’s hair, playing with it idly. 

The air is *rigid, and everyone’s stopped fighting. No one can draw their eyes away from the being. 

“You dare to summon me with one of my own?” The being speaks, and it’s like crackling glaciers. Someone whimpers. 

“We - wanted to give you a gift,” One of the men in black says, his voice chattering. 

It’s like breathing in ice. 

“A gift?” The being says and the sound is fury, banked in a waiting avalanche. “What kind of gift is this? A denizen of my Realms, trapped and tortured? Used to summon his king, against his will? This is no gift.” 

“B-but we didn’t know,” another speaks, and then obviously realizes he shouldn’t have. 

“Ignorance will not save you,” the being says, and it - he’s? - still holding Jason like he’s something precious. “And I am not the only one you have infuriated. 

“I am not the only one you have awoken.” 

To a man, the GIW agents cry out in panic. Bruce turns, looking for the threat but - the agents are buried to various depths in the cracked concrete floor. The ground is decidedly solid beneath Bruce’s feet but the agents would obviously not agree. They flounder, like the concrete is quicksand. The summoners are next, but it’s ice that gets them, crawling up their bodies until they’re locked into place. 

“My lord!” One cries and promptly finds himself gagged. 

Bruce can’t stay silent any longer. “Hood was used against his will to summon you,” he starts. The being’s eyes meet Bruce’s. “He didn’t want this. Is he alright?” 

“Your son is fine,” the voice is rough, but feminine, and obviously not from the being. It’s around him, dancing through the steel beams and pushing through concrete. “You are mine, my knight. You and yours are mine. The little king will not harm him, nor you.” A figure forms off to his right. 

“Holy shit,” Dick whispers. Bruce has to agree. 

She’s made of concrete, of broken brick and dust, of bone and police tape, of twisted metal and more. 

“Gotham,” Bruce breathes, and he doesn’t know how he knows but he does.

“Hello, my knight,” she says, her form shifting. She turns slightly, and there’s something sharp in her movement. “Hello, little king.” 

“Lady Gotham,” The being - the king? - returns. “You look well,” 

Lady Gotham laughs, a ringing sound - it’s bells and gravel, fresh air on a summer day and rising wind. “How you flatter me, little king. Do you fear me?” 

The being grins, mischief dancing around him, white hair floating high. “I respect you. It’s good to see you awake, Milady.”

“What is happening?” Tim asks no one in particular. Dick shrugs and Steph just leans harder on Tim. Cass holds Damian’s shoulder firmly, watching carefully. 

Bruce wishes he had an answer. 

“It is good to be awake,” Lady Gotham says, and she shifts closer to the circle, fingers skimming against the barrier of light. “How long do you intend to keep my reaper from me?” 

Reaper. Bruce thinks, and it’s a gut punch. 

It makes sense, to describe Jason. Jason can go where Bruce cannot, do what Bruce cannot. 

The king laughs lightly. “The summoning harmed him, Milady. I’m just keeping him safe. I’m not here to undermine you,” the king’s eyes glow. “But remember who is king.”

Lady Gotham smiles. “I’m aware of hierarchy little king.” 

“My son,” Bruce says, because there’s no point in pretending Jason is anything less. He’s talking to - the embodiment of gotham and a king of - something. “He’ll be okay?” 

Lady Gotham sighs. “He will be fine, my knight. The little king cares for his own.” 

“What - what are you the king of?” Tim asks, bold. 

The being smiles. 

“I am Phantom,” he says. “I am the Ghost King.” 

Jason stirs in his lap, and the implications crash over Bruce. Maybe Reaper has more meaning than he’d thought.

#DPxDC #Akela's Antics #Prompts #Ficlets #Crossover #DP x DC

[steviesbicrisis]

Gareth is in charge of the Corroded Coffin official TikTok account, being the only one who actually uses social media on a daily basis.

He's playing Fuck Marry Kill with the three random celebrities generator and trying to make the other guys join as well.

When it's Eddie's turn, he's having none of it "they're just gonna get mad at me because I know no one! let me live in peace!"

Gareth insists until he shoves the phone in Eddie's face, giving him no chance to escape. The filter generates three pictures on top of Eddie's face.

"I have no fucking clue who these people-" he stops talking as his eyes focus on the last picture, it's a man around his age with voluminous hair and beautiful features. Eddie pulls the phone up close, ripping it out of Gareth's hand, to have a better look.

"you okay man?" Gareth asks, out of frame.

"Kiss, have sex with, marry, and adopt a puppy with him," he says, pointing at the guy on the screen "kill the other two."

"That's not how you play man, the fuck??" Gareth appears in frame and looks at the celebrities "you mean the third guy? are you serious?"

Eddie glares at him sideways "have you fucking seen him? he's a fucking-" but the video is cut off by the time limit.

The most liked comment under the video is by none other than famous baseball player Steve Harrington:

"I'm more of a cat type, but how about we discuss it over dinner? ;)"

--

More of this story here

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steve and eddie #steve x eddie #steddie prompt #prompts #famous eddie munson #famous steve harrington #guitarist eddie munson #baseball player steve harrington #tiktok au #celebrities au #corroded coffin #sbc writes #ficlets