#prompts ! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

megatraven · 2 days

Text

OTP prompts based on a reddit thread I saw today titled, "What is something a friend did that accidentally turned you on?"

A licks B's hand to try grossing B out, but B wants to kiss A afterwards

A loans B their hoodie and realizes it smells really good when B returns it

A gets knots in their back and one day complains about it to B, who immediately comes over and tells A to relax before massaging the knot out

A is on the edge of having a panic attack when B reaches down and grabs A by the chin and asks if they're doing okay, distracting A

A and B go to a concert together, where A puts their finger through B's belt loop so they don't get lost or separated, flustering B

B places a hand on A's forearm and keeps it there while they talk/ask a question

A and B are working on an art project together that involves paint when B comments on there being some on A's face. B tells A to close their eyes and wipes it away, and when A opens their eyes, they see B leaning in for a kiss.

A and B are roommates, and A thinks B smells really good. A asks B what they wear to smell so nice, only to find out B doesn't wear anything, and A just likes the way B smells.

A puts their and on B's hip by accident and feels B's underwear beneath their thin clothes/dress

B cries on A's shoulder, and A feels guilty for getting turned on by it

A, B, and C are on a roadtrip together, and the hotel has one bed and one couch. C calls the couch, and A and B get stuck in the bed together. A wakes up to B cuddling them in their sleep

B is doing A's makeup but A isn't angling their head right, so B grabs their chin and tilts it up towards them, flustering A

A is laying down in the morning after a sleepover with B when B climbs on top of them, chest pressed to A's back, and tells them to wake up and that breakfast is ready

B hugs A while A confides in B about their bad day

A keeps their work keys clipped to their belt loop, but occasionally B needs to use them and unclips them themself, making A feel tingly each time

B asks A to do something for them, and says "good girl" when they do it, turning A into a blushing mess. (Optional: A may question their gender afterwards)

A sits on B's lap and B grows very warm

A asks B if their lips are chapped and gets really close to B

B presses down on A's bruises absentmindedly, distracting A

A is talking to B but B isn't paying attention, so A interlocks their fingers with B's to keep their attention on them

A and B are at a pool party wearing their bathing suits when B reaches over A and puts their hand on A's thigh for support

A strokes B's hair for so long that B begins to fall asleep from how nice it feels

A usually goes by a nickname, but B has taken a shine to using A's full name which makes A feel a way

#prompts #otp #otp prompts #writing prompts #fic prompts #yall are free to send me any or reblog this or whatever. link to the reddit thread in the replies!

135 notes · View notes

diazsdimples · 12 hours

Note

Buddie + "I love you, but I've never been this angry with anyone than I am with you right now" or smth like that

"I love you, but I've never been this angry with anyone like I am with you right now," Eddie fumes as he checks over Buck's injuries.

They're fairly minor - a split lip and a cut above his left eyebrow that slopes into his birthmark, and there's a few scrapes on his forearm, but that doesn't stop the anger, the fear that's bubbling in Eddie's stomach right now.

"C'mon Eds, I'm fine," Buck mumbles as he tries to dodge Eddie's fussing hands. His head throbs at the sharp movement and he winces. " 'S just a scratch."

"It's seven scratches," Eddie counters as he finishes the catalogue of Buck's injuries. "And you've probably got a concussion."

Eddie pinches between his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. It's not like this is a surprise; Buck's never been one to think through his actions to the logical conclusion, being more of the "act first, think later" type, but Eddie wishes that for once, the man would engage his brain before throwing himself headfirst into a burning building, chasing after a drunk driver on a tiny bicycle, or climbing a tree to fish out the frisbee Christopher had lost moments earlier.

Buck pushes himself up onto his elbows, surveying the broken twigs and leaves that litter the ground around him. The branch that had snapped beneath his weight lies about a foot to his left, and Eddie can see the porous insides, the wood rotten and crumbling. It's any wonder Buck tumbled out of the tree like a kitten learning to climb - that branch would have given way the second he put his weight on it.

"Probably should have checked the branches as I was coming down," Buck says with a strained chucked, his attempt at lightening the mood with humour falling flat when Eddie doesn't respond, his jaw ticking cause yeah, Buck really fucking should have been more careful.

Buck's face falls as he sees Eddie's tight expression.

"A-are you really that mad at me?"

Eddie softens. He's not mad, exactly. His fear and panic often manifests itself as anger, and when Buck had come barrelling out of that tree, crashing to the ground with enough force it could have registered on the Richter Scale, his heart had leapt to his throat.

"I'm not mad," he says gently, and the tension in Buck's shoulders disappears. He reaches out to touch Buck's face, thumb stroking over a thankfully unscathed cheekbone. "I just...you scared me, that's all."

Eddie can feel the weight of Buck's stare, can hear his heartbeat loud in his ears, and then Buck is smiling softly, the look on his face so gentle that it takes Eddie's breath away.

"You don't have to worry about me," he reassures Eddie, turning his face into his boyfriend's hand and kissing his palm.

Eddie can't help the disbelieving snort that leaves his mouth.

"Buck, you choked on bread so hard you nearly died, you've been crushed under a ladder truck, you had a pulmonary embolism and then got washed up by a tsunami, and you've been struck by lightening. You get into trouble more often than not."

Buck laughs, the sound warm and sweet, and Eddie wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him better, to seal up his wounds with his lips, to kiss away the pain and promise to always be there with him when he hurts.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

Buck's eyes sparkle and his lips are so soft, and Eddie doesn't have it in him to stop himself anymore.

The kiss is light and barely there, but Buck's lips are so warm and pliant against his own, and his heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest. He can feel the stubble on Buck's chin against his skin, can smell the sharp scent of the lemon bodywash Buck loves to use, and when Buck sighs against him, Eddie feels it down to his toes. There's a slight wince as Eddie presses over the cut on Buck's lip and he pulls away, resting their foreheads together.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks again, licking his lips. He tastes the slightest tang of metal - blood, from Buck's lip - and it sets his teeth on edge.

"Baby, I'm fine. Promise."

Buck leans forward and presses another, far gentler kiss to Eddie's lips.

"Now, can you help me up, please? It's cold down here."

Eddie rolls his eyes but complies nonetheless. He takes Buck's wrist and hauls him to his feet, and is about to drag him inside when Buck sways against him, the blood draining from his face so fast Eddie's surprised he doesn't pass out immediately.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay?" he asks, grasping Buck under the arm as he swallows thickly, his knuckles turning white as he clings onto Eddie's forearm.

"You know what?" Buck says as he suppresses a gag, "M-maybe I should go get checked out."

"You think? C'mon, let's get you in the car."

Eddie at least has the common sense to grab an ice cream container before he ushers Buck out the front door, making fast tracks towards the ER.

#james answers things #james writes #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #buddie #911 buddie #911 #911 fanfic #eddie x buck #911 ficlet #buddie ficlet #prompts #anon request #anon ask #asks #answered

136 notes · View notes

allthingswhumpyandangsty · 2 days

Text

LOVE a grumpy whumpee who's too prideful to admit they need help.

LOVE a grumpy whumpee who kicks their feet and snarl like a feisty cat when they're being shown love & affection and taken care of by caretaker.

LOVE a grumpy whumpee who tries to convince themself and caretaker that they're fine, only for their own injuries to prove them wrong and so they fall right into caretaker's arms — as caretaker catches them — right before they can hit the floor.

bonus if whumpee and caretaker are actually enemies. 🤭

read a fic with this exact prompt here :)

74 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 24 hours

Note

Okay, but have you considered how hot it would be for Raphael to use his claws to "undress" Tav? Or him dragging those claws all over Tav's body?

*Heavy breathing*

But of course, anon! This little drabble is very much sfw but still suggestive, tensions building as they're both on the verge of eruption, haha. My favourite kind of intimacy. *winks*

Summary: Raphael takes matters into his own hands when Tav proves to be a less than cooperative model for his latest painting. He will do anything to create a masterpiece, even if that means teasing his little mouse into submission.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Practice Makes Perfect

(Image via savriea)

“Gods, this is torturous, Raphael. How much longer do you expect me to just sit here?”

“Until it’s flawless.”

Raphael did not look up from the painting, but he could sense Tav was glaring at him, no doubt giving him another one of her infamous disgruntled looks.

“Frowning is unbecoming of you, little mouse.” Raphael continued, delicately dabbing a brush in some paint. He brought it to the half finished canvas but hesitated, unsure where to make his next mark.

He instead sat back in his chair, humming a tune to himself as he compared the painting to the model before him.

Tav sat a few feet away from Raphael, lounging on a plush leather chair. Per Raphael’s request, Tav wore a black dress with thin straps. The ensemble was form fitting, highlighting her voluptuous figure. Even whilst relaxed, her curves were strong and delicate, fierce but soft, like lush rolling hills sweeping through a vast countryside.

She had her elbow on the arm rest, touching her chin with her thumb and index finger, the other hand placed on her lap. Her head was tilted slightly, in a way to suggest thoughtfulness, but Tav’s own visage added an extra layer of mystery to the pose. Her expression was stoic, yet her eyes were deeply alluring, teasing Raphael, as if to say, ‘come just a little closer, Devil, and I’ll tell you my deepest, darkest secrets.’

The chair was positioned on the balcony of Raphael’s private atelier, in his House of Hope. The skies of Avernus had been fickle that day. Midway through the painting session, a sea of smokey clouds floated into view, as if on purpose; viciously orchestrated by someone watching from the sidelines, hoping to rile Raphael. Something Haarlep would’ve loved to achieve, if they had any ambitions. The clouds brought with them mild winds and a torrential downpour of blood rain, completely souring the atmosphere Raphael had been working with.

Tav sighed, rolling her shoulders. She interlaced her fingers, stretching her arms out wide in front of her like a cat pulled from slumber.

Raphael raised his fingers, threatening to snap her back into place if she continued to move about like a misbehaved child. He had reprimanded her twice already. Once when she refused to sit still after he had placed her in the current position; and the second, when she fell asleep, her body slumping and nearly sliding off the chair.

Apparently it was too strenuous, too tortuous even, for a mere mortal to sit in one position for a few hours. Perhaps Raphael would consider testing this new type of punishment further on some of his future debtors?

“Is there something more you wish to moan about? Or shall we proceed?”

Tav hesitated, adjusting her dress before reluctantly resuming the pose.

“Surely you don’t expect to finish this painting in one day?” Tav grumbled.

“You forget yourself, little mouse. We had an agreement and I never specified a duration.” Raphael paused, noticing a tiny blemish on the canvas that needed touching up. He dabbed the paintbrush across the spot a few times until it disappeared.

“And as I’m sure you’re well aware, time has no relevance in Avernus...”

Raphael shifted to the side so that his face was no longer obscured by the canvas, smirking at Tav.

The Devil had been enraptured by the little mouse the second he spotted her, stumbling from the Nautiloid ruins like a bumbling buffoon. And yet still, in her own way, she climbed through those flames, like a phoenix from the ashes, igniting sparks within Raphael’s very being. She had been reborn, and she would rise to greater heights suiting his own motivations very soon.

Raphael re-focused his attention back to the painting, suddenly finding his ego deflating as he stared at the blasé first pass. It did not stir him the same way Tav tormented him with rampant desires; hideous mortal emotions he had strictly forbidden himself to feel, believing to have locked them away within the recesses of his infernal heart. And yet still, he found himself frantically gathering the pieces of his broken composure, haphazardly putting them back together after each rendezvous.

He was better than that and he damned well knew it.

This current piece, however, was proving to be more problematic than he imagined. Raphael had painted hundreds of portraits in the past; from famous Devils to mortals alike, and yet something was missing. It was void of any life or passion. In this portrait Tav was merely a facade, a poor initiation of the real thing before his own eyes.

“What to do…” Raphael whispered.

Perhaps it was the pose? Or could it be Tav herself?

Raphael’s mind lingered on the last thought, noticing Tav was a bit stiff. In all their time together, she never quite shed that awkward part of her personality. Getting her to relax had proven, time and time again, to be more difficult than all his preparations to procure the Crown of Karsus. He did find that aspect of her endearing, no less; but she needed to loosen up, to become more comfortable within her own skin.

There needed to be more spontaneity in this painting - that was it! In order to achieve greatness he needed to push himself further, and in turn, push his muse past her breaking point...

Just as Raphael considered destroying the rough draft and dismissing Tav, the dark clouds parted and a glowing orange spotlight poured through the skies, illuminating his balcony.

“The solution has presented itself, alas!” Raphael jumped up, rushing towards Tav.

She could barely register a response, or more likely a complaint of some kind, before Raphael swept her in his arms. He pushed her towards the balcony, posing her so that she was looking out over the side.

“Do not move an inch,” Raphael warned, flying back to his easel.

“What are you p–” Tav turned her neck in an attempt to look back at Raphael.

Snap!

Tav was forced back into place.

Another snap!

And a new, blank canvas appeared in front of Raphael.

“Not. Even. A. Finger.” He snarled, narrowing his eyes.

Raphael picked up the paintbrush, his fingers trembling as he pondered where to start. He needed to move hastily, the current spectacle could change at any moment.

As he peered up at the little mouse, observing her under the new light, another impulse overtook him. He quickly found himself caught in a tidal wave, swept away from the safety of the shores as he struggled to find something to grab hold of. Spiralling… Suffocating… drowning in Tav’s beauty.

Tav was glowing under the radiant beams of Avernus, perfectly illuminated from the powerful spotlight. Sheer brilliance. Despite being in the Hells, her very presence suggested angelic beauty. The theatrical side of Raphael immediately put together a narrative, filing it away in his mind for a later use when he was alone; when he had the time to write.

It would be a tragedy for the ages, a fallen celestial, a devious Devil. Falling hopelessly in love despite their damned ancestries…

No matter how brilliant Tav looked in that moment, her body was still too rigid for the painting. What Raphael needed was a model, not a statue. Nothing felt genuine or realistic with how he had staged her. The lighting would not be able to save this piece alone. Something must be done. Something more.

Raphael’s eyes moved to Tav’s figure, his gaze carefully caressing every inch of her, every curve. His chest ached as he took her in and soon the only thing he could hear were the throbbing sounds of his heart.

Something cracked in his hand, piercing his palm. He looked down, realising the paintbrush he had been holding was now reduced to splinters. He clenched his bloody fist, turning the shattered paintbrush into ashes…

The Devil could not control himself any longer.

Raphael stepped away from the canvas, shifting smoothly into his cambion form. He drifted silently towards Tav until he was looming behind her. He lifted his hands, leaving them to hover inches above her shoulders. Finger by finger he started caressing her with his claws, using his digits as he would on the keyboard of a piano.

Tav shifted her neck, leaning into each touch. Raphael’s temperature rose, the tips of his fingers becoming flames as he continued to softly stroke the little mouse.

Raphael watched as his movements impacted her, his lips moistening at how she writhed in pleasure wherever he placed his fingers. The veins in her neck pulsated; if he listened close enough, he could just about hear her irregular breaths at the anticipation of his movements.

The Devil truly had the little mouse in the palm of his hands. These mortals, so easy to entice…

He continued, grabbing her chin and turning her head so that she was now looking at him. Her pupils dilated as she fixated on his face, those luscious lips parting.

“Raphael…” She began.

Raphael used the claws from his free hand to pluck the strings of her dress like a harp; they snapped against her skin, the sinful notes filling the silence around them. He proceeded to use the same claws to cut one of the straps in a swift motion.

“Silence, little mouse. I did not grant you permission to speak.” Raphael teased.

At Raphael’s words Tav gasped, her body shaking. He cut the other strap and it fell loosely against her shoulders. The dress barely moved, still hugging Tav’s body. If anything, it showed more bosom.

No, that was not enough.

He brought his hands to the base of her neck, using his claws to trace down her body. He began slowly from the collarbone, moving to her shoulders, and then along the edges of her frame. As he went, his claws slashed through the fabric on her upper thigh. He cut more and more of the dress so that her entire leg was bare.

Tav loosened at his touch, at this newfound freedom, her brows sweating.

“Don’t you find this r-relationship… rather odd?” Tav murmured.

“How so?”

Raphael leaned in closer, so close, they could kiss if either of them moved out of turn. Tav melted, holding on to the balcony railings for support. Her knees quivered as she struggled to keep herself upright.

The power Raphael had over this mortal was intoxicating. He no longer cared if his heart combusted as it raced alongside Tav’s.

“It’s just… us, I-I… I know you will never truly have feelings for me. And… I suppose that’s fine, I guess.”

Raphael paused, staring intensely at Tav. He sloped forwards, moving towards her neck. He made his breath kiss the side of her nape in his place, sending puffs of hot air that trailed down her spine. He grinned at the goosebumps sprouting on her skin.

“I’ll be sure to let you know when I no longer care for you, little mouse. Will that put your mind at ease?”

Tav bit back a moan, her cheeks flushed as she nodded, desperately trying to hold on to whatever composure she had left.

Raphael’s eyes widened at the sight before him. The little mouse, always showing nothing but restraint and resilience, now on the verge of collapsing at his very touch. This is what he had been craving to see all along.

This is what he needed to capture.

The Devil breathed slowly in an attempt to keep himself from ravishing her, from tearing the rest of that dress off. Tadpole infested and all, he needed her. Craved her. She belonged to him and he would savour every inch of her. Whether that was in the flesh or by capturing her essence on one canvas after another.

“Now, be a good little mouse and hold that position...”

Snap!

Raphael was back at his easel, a new brush in his hand as he began painting furiously.

This will be his greatest artwork yet.

His greatest conquest.

62 notes · View notes

natsumeweek · 17 hours

Text

Natsume Week 2024 Prompts Decided!

Hi everyone, we're so excited to announce the prompts for this year's Natsume Week! It'll be running from Monday the 1st of July to Sunday the 7th of July (Tokyo time):

Day One (Monday, 1st July): Hopes/Curses Day Two (Tuesday, 2nd July): Hobbies/New Skills Day Three (Wednesday, 3rd July): Disguises/Discoveries Day Four (Thursday, 4th July): Hugs/Happiness Day Five (Friday, 5th July): Godhood/Devotion Day Six (Saturday, 6th July): Ghost Stories Day Seven (Sunday, 7th July): Alternate Universe

And of course, please interpret these prompts as you want! Squeeze them or stretch them as far as you can and create using whatever tools or medium you wish.

Our rules can be found here, and if you have any questions you can go through our ask box or chat with us in our Discord server.

Can't wait to see you there!

#natsume week #natsumeweek #natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #natsuyuu #natsuchou #prompts

74 notes · View notes

response-radio · 2 days

Text

#sarcasmo #ana tricks #coconut kitty #fall aesthetic #alternative goth #prompts #election 2016 #bridget satterlee #dodge #cglre #Whole30 #amy winehouse #butterflies #wally darling

120 notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 1 day

Text

Prompt 319

Ghosts can retreat to their core when they’re hurt enough. Really, when they’re close to a second death, or in such distress that they risk shattering themselves. They, for lack of better term, hibernate until it’s safe for them reform, and continue on their way.

Halfas are a little… different.

See, technically, they can’t die. One half will end up healing or reviving the other. But, they can still retreat to their core. The issue comes from well, the living half, that is, the half still made of flesh and bone. Which unlike ectoplasm, cannot shift and meld at will, and in fact? Most if not all of it is, once more for lack of better term, shed.

Meaning that halfas, should they retreat to their core emerges with the body noticeably… smaller.

Now of course they keep their memories, their core would never forget after all, unlike the brain which relied on more… fleshy means. Not that the current halfas were exactly aware of that fact when they instinctively did so in self preservation. They are… not pleased upon their emergence.

The woman who stole their cores- which were apparently sold as gemstones what the fuck- is… definitely not happy either. And- okay that is not their english, where the fuck did they end up-

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #De aged Danny #De aged Dan #De aged Vlad #De aged Dani #De aged Jazz #Mom Selina #She was just stealing this necklace with these gemstones that almost seem to animate #She was Not Expecting the gemstones to apparently be some sort of baby aliens #Which she is aghast for the bedraggled kittens who also look upset & distressed #This is something to eventually get the bats onto but first!#She has a litter of poor kittens to take care of #Fuck it make it the timeline where Catwoman has 9 lives gifted after she dies #Yes the babies get dressed in lil cat onesies #Selina (kicking in the door to Wayne manor): Hey Bruce Quick Question On How To Take Care of Stray Kids-

391 notes · View notes

pokeberry5 · 3 days

Text

got anons requesting tipsy tim, tim w smeared lipstick in a red slip, and tim in lingerie so here’s a three hit combo <3

#dc #tim drake #sart #THANKS FOR THE REQUESTS #prompts

238 notes · View notes

bellyasks · 2 days

Note

haiii! Here’s an idea… dialogues for name calling a tummy when it’s inflated, if possible (like calling it a balloon, like they swallowed a beach ball, etc)

your content is great, keep up da awesome work :D

"Well, aren't you just the cutest little blimp? Think I could take you out for a spin?"

"Careful, don't go bumping your beach ball into anything, it looks like it's under a lot of pressure."

"Come here, let me hold you tight. I wouldn't want my balloon to float away on me."

"Aw, poor little puffball. Come here, let me kiss your tummy."

"I don't think you'll be able to buckle the life jacket over your belly, but it's basically a flotation device itself at this point."

"Sheesh, it's chilly out. Good thing I've got a cute little hot air balloon keeping me company."

"That big bubble won't pop if I kiss it, will it?"

"Ooh, listen to how tight that sounds! I'd better be gentle with you, you've got a serious air tank there."

#prompts #belly kink #tummy kink #inflation kink #inflated belly #burst mention #belly #inflating #my post

49 notes · View notes

erikahenningsen · 3 days

Note

96 for cadina?

96. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Cady starts spending a lot of time with Regina after the spring fling dance.

Despite no longer being in the neck collar, Regina still isn't able to do all that much without needing to take breaks, and she can't drive with the pain medication she's taking. Everyone seems to be tiptoeing around Regina, like she's both fragile and dangerous at the same time, and Cady doesn't think anyone else has visited Regina since she came home from the hospital.

So they watch a lot of movies and TV shows in Regina's cozy home theater—things Regina has already seen but Cady hasn't, so when Regina falls asleep in the middle, exhausted by her medication, she doesn't miss anything. It's a good system.

What is not a good system for Cady is the way Regina cuddles up to her, falling asleep on her shoulder or occasionally in Cady's lap entirely. They always start with a respectable foot of space between them, but the more tired Regina gets, the closer she gravitates.

Cady's heart has been pounding so hard so often lately that she suspects she might be entirely indestructible, the world's first immortal person, because this surely should have killed her by now.

It's a Saturday afternoon and they're watching the second or third Bring It On movie—Cady honestly doesn't remember which. Regina seems particularly tired today, and Cady remembers her mentioning that she had a physical therapy appointment yesterday after school.

About twenty minutes in, Regina's eyes started to droop. It's a domino effect: Regina gets sleepy. Regina starts leaning into Cady, softly at first and then resting her head entirely on Cady's shoulder. Regina shuffles around, trying to get comfortable. Cady, like a person who is capable of handling this, guides Regina to lie down with her head in Cady's lap.

And that's how Cady winds up running her fingers through Regina's hair, so much affection swelling in her chest it's almost painful.

She's always had strange reactions to Regina, from the day they met. Regina's always made her nervous, but the more time they spent together, the less Cady felt genuinely anxious, and it turned into... something else. Butterflies in her stomach when Regina laughed and touched her arm. The heady, lightheaded feeling she would get when she got a whiff of Regina's perfume. The way her brain slowed down and then ceased processing new information when Regina flipped her hair and smiled at Cady.

And now, this... whatever it is they're doing. Cady is certain Regina doesn't view her as anything more than a person who is nice to her when no one else is and also doubles as a good pillow—while Cady spends more of the movie watching Regina than the screen.

When the movie ends, Cady checks her phone. It's starting to get late, and her mother will probably be calling soon. Despite every bone in her body aching to stay here with the gentle weight of Regina in her lap and the softness of Regina's hair under her fingers, Cady starts easing herself out from under Regina.

Regina stirs, eyes blinking open slowly. Cady thinks she looks particularly adorable sleep-soft and groggy.

"Where're you going?" Regina complains.

"It's almost eight," Cady says apologetically. "I should—"

"Can't you stay a little longer?" Regina cuts in, voice soft.

It's like Regina reached inside Cady's chest and squeezed her heart. She's always gotten a little thrill out of Regina explicitly asking Cady to hang out with her—the feeling of being wanted, even if only as a friend.

"I..." Cady relaxes back into the couch. "Yeah, for a bit."

Regina makes a pleased sound as Cady resumes stroking her hair without even really thinking about it, and for several minutes neither of them speak.

"Cady?" Regina says quietly.

"Yeah?" Cady asks.

"Thanks," Regina says, looking up at her, eyes kind of sad, "for coming. And for staying."

It takes Cady a moment to find her voice, to dig it out from under the heavy tangle of emotions in her chest.

"Always," Cady promises.

Regina smiles up at her, and Cady thinks she'd endure a million more torturous movies just to see Regina smile.

#cadina #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls the musical #mean girls broadway #cady heron #regina george #ask #anonymous #prompts #soft hours ig

40 notes · View notes