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supersapphical · 1 year

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what about an Amara/Jo drabble?

okay, first of all YOUR BRAIN. I LOVE this pairing idea so much I might eventually come back to it to do a longer work but for now here is a short exploration of what their dynamic might be like…

(AU where Jo takes the Mark of Cain instead of Dean, 1K)

Read on AO3 or under the cut.

Don’t make us have to stop you.

The thought of Dean’s words, shouted at her as she turned and walked away from them, still makes her laugh.

Stop her. Stop her. As if they could.

When she took the Mark, she had been so desperate to prove herself, prove she was a real hunter and that she could handle it. She had been so eager to show everyone (and herself) that she was capable enough to take on the Mark and wield the first blade and slay a Knight of Hell. Well, she took the Mark, she slew a Knight of Hell and the girl she was before now seems so far away.

Please, Jo, God locked the Darkness away for a reason Sam had tried to reason with her.

God’s a dick was all she had said and she felt in every single part of her that a truer sentence had never been uttered.

Since she took the Mark, she’s felt an uncontrollable urge to reach out to the force imprisoned on the other side. She can feel a small, faint taste of what has been locked away, some tiny fraction of it is running through her veins now. She can feel the resentment, the injustice of being tricked and trapped and her only desire now is to free it. Cain had warned her against taking the Mark—told her it would turn her violent beyond her nature. The violent urges were much easier to control than he had said they would be. She was always able to find some bloodthirsty monster to take her wrath out on. And if she was a little more brutal than she needed to be when she took out a nest of vamps or a stray shifter, who really cared? Certainly not any hunters and they were the only ones who even might have the capability to track her movements.

But this yearning…this is different. There is something on the other side reaching out to her. She can’t and won’t stop herself from reaching back.

The spell to break the curse of Cain is simpler than she thought it would be and in an explosion of black smoke, she finds herself losing consciousness or perhaps just lost in time. When the smoke clears, she feels as if she is not here or there but simply somewhere. Maybe everywhere.

There’s a figure standing in front of her who looks exactly like her. It's her body but it’s not her, this she knows for sure. The same symbol that had been branded on the inside of her forearm is on this other Jo’s clavicle but already Jo can tell it’s not the same. This Jo isn’t limited the way she was.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“You know who I am, you’re the one that freed me,” the other Jo says.

“Why do you look like me?”

I don’t have a human form yet, do you think I look like you?” this other Not-Jo tilts her head and Jo has the uncanny feeling that her reflection has moved without her moving.

“A bit,” Jo finally says.

“A bit,” the other Jo smiles as she repeats Jo’s words.

“Are you…what happens now?” Jo wanted nothing more than to release the power behind the Mark and now faced with it, she realizes she’s not sure what she truly expected to happen. She only knew that she could feel the pain and the torment and the raw power of the thing connected to her and she needed to open it into this world.

“We are the same, you and I,” the other figure reaches out and gently strokes her cheek. “We’ll be together again.”

“Why can’t we be together now?” Jo asks, faster than she can think the words.

The other being stares at her intently. “The way your world works…so strangely orderly. I am not bound to linear time the way you are.”

“Are you saying this is you…from the future?”

“I suppose you could say that,” the figure with her face shrugs.

“But you wouldn’t say that,” Jo says, wondering if this creature makes no sense or if maybe she hit her head too hard when the Mark exploded into mysterious black smoke.

“No,” the woman shakes her head. “Perhaps you will understand as we become one.”

“We’re going to…become one?” she stumbles through the question. She feels an intense need deep within herself to become one with the power she feels radiating off of the other Jo.

We are now and we will be and we always have been,” the other Jo may have her face but her voice is entirely different, low and seductive. “But I need…to see the world, this universe—in your time, I suppose.”

"See the world…what does that mean?”

“I will blanket the Earth, I will spread out amongst the cosmos, I will reach into every crevice of every universe and then I will return to you,” the other Jo says.

“That sounds like it will take a long time,” Jo tries to ignore the pain that shoots through her chest at the idea of being separated from the Darkness.

“Time, just another one of my brother’s creations. I can fold time itself, if I want to,” she takes Jo’s face in her hands. “You are the one that freed me. The singular one among my brother’s creations that betrayed him to help me. You will come to me, happily, and we will be more powerful than he could ever imagine.”

The figure softly brushes a strand of Jo’s hair back from her face and she closes her eyes, unnerved by the sight of a being that looks like her reaching out to her but wanting nothing more than to feel a touch of darkness.

Jo wakes up in her car in an empty field, holding on to the memory of a vision that promised she would soon be reunited with the power she had set free. With the Mark of Cain vanished from her arm, she feels different. She no longer feels preternaturally compelled to seek out the Darkness but she deeply wants to find her again, to be bound in the way that the dark figure had promised—fated to be tied together forever, in a chaotic harmony of primordial darkness and human soul.

#sapphicnatural #ficlet #amarajo #thank you so much for the prompt!!!!#it seems wildly unfair that this is the only fic for this pairing on ao3 #someone needs to fix that #super stuff

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iglooracing · 1 year

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sebchal, slow day, snowed in and slightly high off brownies - to the tune of feels like a sunday by elderbrook

this is such a specific scenario and i had never heard of this song before but after listening i love the vibes and this moment for these two. thank you so much for sharing this prompt <3

send me a pairing and a festive prompt for a 10 sentence drabble?

charles stretches further into the warm patch of sun on the couch that’s streaming through the windows and the skylight in the den.

“mm, come back,” seb whines quietly next to him as he reaches over and makes grabby hands at charles’ hoodie.

charles giggles, more than happy to be manhandled as seb tugs him to roll over on his side.

“m’not leaving,” charles murmurs, the words feeling heavy in his mouth.

they’re facing each other now, nearly nose to nose, and charles has the sudden urge to nuzzle against seb, so he does.

“will we stay like this all day?” charles asks, his voice hopeful as he leans further against seb.

“well, i was hoping we could…” seb trails off as he lifts his arm above his head and charles’ gaze trails up seb’s toned shoulder and bicep, to his delicate wrist and perfect fingers where he holds something.

“qu’est-ce que c’est?” charles asks softly as he absentmindedly starts to trail his fingers up seb’s raised arm to his hand.

“es ist mistel,” seb replies with a smirk and charles give him a quizzical look.

“mistletoe?” charles asks, matching seb’s smirk when the other man nods.

“sebastian vettel, are you trying to seduce me?” charles teases.

“did you have other plans?” seb teases back.

“fuck going out,” charles murmurs and as he leans in to give seb a slow and syrupy kiss he can still taste the brownies they baked this morning that put them in this fantastic mood.

they’re both right where they belong - in each other’s arms.

#so sorry this one is longer i was quite sure where i wanted this one to end but i’m happy with it :))#thank you so much for the prompt!!!!#sebchal #sebchal fic #sebchal drabble #f1 drabble #f1 fic #my writing

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tonguetiedraven · 2 years

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Técnicamente Ryuuji creció con el corazón demoníaco de Rin a metros de él ¿Y si en algún momento lo escuchó? ¿Y si años despúes reconoció el sonido proviniendo del chico sentado a su lado? (Perdón por el español 🙏 realmente amo tu trabajo ♡♡♡)

No need to apologize! I’m happy to take prompts in any language, and I’m really glad to hear you like my work because I love yours!

Also, I'm sorry for the wait on this, it took me a bit to figure out which scenes I really wanted to cover.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Sneaking into the temple was one of Ryuuji’s favorite pastimes. He was caught more often than not, but Tatsuma only kicked him out on occasion. The older monks would usher him away, but they all seemed more amused than anything.

Ryuuji let himself get caught in the daylight. It wasn’t as important to sneak at that point. In the daylight he was more interested in listening to his father’s chants.

Night was when Ryuuji really tried to sneak, and he got pretty good at it. The monks were predictable in their paths, and Ryuuij was good at remembering.

He did it for the first time after his third day in kindergarten. He couldn’t sleep and he was upset about all the stupid people who had talked meanly about his temple at school.

He tried to chant like his father did, and when that didn’t work, he tried to read the book his mom read him before bed. The words were too big for him to figure out, and the pictures weren’t as much fun when it was just him.

Deciding the chanting may only work in the temple, Ryuuji got up, pulled his blanket around his shoulders like a cape to keep him warm, and slipped out of his room. He could hear mom and dad talking in the hall, and he carefully walked the other way, working extra hard to skip the squeaky parts of the floor.

Outside, there was a full moon, and he could hear a few monks chatting. He hurried past them as quickly as he could, hiding in the bushes and holding his breath until he was past the inn.

The temple was guarded, but the monks were talking and not looking too closely, and he was good at climbing up the side window that no one ever locked. (Tatsuma kept it unlocked specifically for him.)

Safely inside, Ryuuji gathered his now slightly dirtier blanket closer and went to the altar. He knelt in front of it, murmured the mantra, and sat back to stare at the flame. Exhaling softly, he hugged his blanket and shifted to get comfortable.

Sitting there, staring at the flames, Ryuuji heard it for the first time. A quiet noise easily missed when everyone was chanting. He thought it was his breathing at first, and then something outside, finally to realize it wasn’t any of that. More curious than frightened (it was hard to be frightened in his temple when it always felt so safe) he shifted forward and tilted his head. It was a little louder like that. Another half crawled step made the sound still louder.

It seemed to be coming from the entire altar. A constant thump-thump-thumpety-thump that reverberated through the wood and seemed to go in time with the flickers of the flames.

Ryuuji laid on his side with his ear against the floor and fell asleep listening to the steady thumps.

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Ryuuji didn’t sneak out every night. He didn’t even sneak out every week. He would go months without it sometimes, ages without even thinking about it, but on the really bad days…

Well, he’d usually end up sneaking out (he went out his own window now) to stealth across the yard and climb in the window to the temple. (A tighter and tighter fit.) He would sit in front of the fire, close his eyes, and chant until he felt calm. Then he’d flop onto his back and stare at the shadows the fire cast on the ceiling and he’d listen to the thump-thump-thumpety-thump that never went away. A constant rhythm that soothed his frazzled nerves and made it easier to think. He stared at the fire and listened until his eyes got heavy and his thoughts slowed down. Then he’d sneak back to his room and fall asleep with the thump-thump-thumpety-thump still echoing in his head.

He spent every night that way his last month in Kyoto. The worse the fights with his parents got, the longer he listened. It seemed to be the only time he could feel peace here.

He fell asleep in the actual temple on his last night and rose before the sun to go running before he left for the bus to True Cross Academy.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The first time it happened, Ryuuji was certain he imagined it. He was certain that in his moment of panic, his frazzled mind had just summoned the first thing it could think of. That in the moment he was going to die — because the reaper’s snapping jaws were absolutely enough to kill him — his mind had brought up something to soothe him in his last seconds.

Thump-thump-thumpety-thump.

The beat echoed in his ears as something blue and purple rushed past him in a blur. Okumura planted himself firmly in front of Ryuuji and raised his arm to stop the murderous demon.

Ryuuji, with the soothing beats echoing in his ears, pushed up from the dirt and scrambled forward, self-preservation forgotten in a need to help the other boy. The boy who would put his life on the line even though they’d spent all day bickering.

The thumps were drowned out by the pounding of his own heart as the reaper settled and Okumura turned to yell at him.

The second time, they were crashing after the exam and the bath attack. (A name Okumura had given the naberius attack on Paku and Kamiki. A name that was stupid but stuck.)

Okumura was draped on the table next to Ryuuji. He still had his chopsticks in his hand, and he’d knocked over an empty glass when he flopped over. His sword bag was laying next to him, almost touching Ryuuji’s leg.

Ryuuji was equally as tired, and contemplating retiring when Okumura tilted his head towards Ryuuji and grinned. His dark hair had been clipped away from his eyes, and they looked bright in the dark room.

Ryuuji raised an eyebrow at the giddy grin. It seemed to promise trouble, and he wasn’t up to arguing the rambunctious boy down. He’d already had his fill of trying to talk Shima out of sneaking into the girls’ bath. At least Okumura didn't tend to be pervy in his mischief. Just silly (and adventurous.)

Okumura just smiled all the wider.

Ryuuji huffed out a breath, rubbed at his eyes, and wondered if the pain lingering around the back of his head was going to turn into a migraine—

Thump-thump-thumpety-thump.

It was there for all of a second. Barely enough to recognize, but it made him stiffen, and then grunt in irritation. Auditory hallucinations? It was already turning into a migraine. Tonight was going to suck.

“You okay, Suguro?” Okumura had pushed up, and for a moment, the thumping seemed to echo in his head again.

“Just a headache. Think I’m gonna go ahead and retire.”

Okumura’s brows together in a worried furrow. “Headache? We got pain killers if you need them?”

Ryuuji shook his head. “Not the kind that’ll help me.” He pushed up, tried to offer Okumura a smile, gave it up, and retreated to the dark silence of his room. The pain came and he took his own meds, missing the steady thumps as the silence and pain pressed around him.

The third time he was gripping Rin by his shirt and hauling him out of a larvae filled creek while he glared at Rin.

“Stop trying to fight shit by yourself!” He snapped, and Rin’s mouth popped open in shock as his blue eyes widened. The light from the demon lantern made them look a lot darker than they were. More the color of a night sky than the cheerful blue of a sunny ocean.

And there, staring at eyes that were a bit too close and freckled cheeks that were going a bit pink, he once again heard a faint thump-thump-thumpety-thump as Rin’s sword bag hit his hand.

He didn’t know what to make of it, but the way Rin’s gaze was going soft, and the screech of the enormous chuchi overhead were too dangerous to try and find out. He hauled Rin the rest of the way out of the swamp, brushing the bugs off his shoulders, and turned to run back to their campsite and victory. The thumping was replaced by the pounding of their feet, but he couldn’t help but think of it and blue eyes.

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Everything was wrong, so it really wasn’t surprising Ryuuji couldn’t sleep. There had been an attack that was almost certainly made possible by a traitor in his people. His father was avoiding him and his responsibilities to the temple. The miasma that had always haunted them was spreading through the ranks, and—

And Rin Okumura was the son of Satan and he had spent their entire friendship lying. He had earned Ryuuji’s trust, but Ryuuji had clearly never earned his.

Ryuuji rolled over on his futon and stared at the window. It was too hot, and too loud. The murmur of voices in the hall wasn’t going to fade, and the coughs and sounds of miasmic choking were too jarring to ignore.

Ryuuji pushed up from his bed and huffed. He wasn’t going to fall asleep like this. His room wasn’t comforting, and he wasn’t sure why he was even pretending he was staying here all night. He knew he was going to run to the temple, he was just delaying his start at this point.

It was harder to sneak away, harder to stealth through the garden, and harder to slip into the temple with the increased guard since the attack. He managed anyway and fell to the temple floor with a muffled thud. He stayed still for a few seconds longer, listening to the movement outside, and making sure he hadn’t been spotted. Satisfied with that, he shuffled forward, staying low, and headed towards the altar. He fed a bit of fuel to the flame, murmured a stura, and bowed low as he prayed for clarity and guidance. The weight of expectations was too heavy, and the fear of everything that could go wrong at any moment was making it impossible to think everything through. He just… he needed help and he didn’t have anyone to ask.

Breathing as slowly as he could, trying to detach from the fears and anxieties, he pushed up and moved past the altar to the wooden platform behind it. He stretched out, settling on the floor and staring up at the flickering shadows overhead and closed his eyes.

It was entirely silent. No, not entirely silent. There was the crackle and pop of the flames, and the muffled sounds of bodies moving outside his temple, but the sound he wanted, the sound he’d come to hear, was gone.

Ryuuji stared up at the flames as the heavy quiet washed over him, and wondered if he’d find peace anywhere.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

It popped up sporadically after that. Never quite long enough to be certain of, always when he was a bit distracted with something else. Typically when they were in some kind of fight, or when his own heart was racing. A few times in quiet moments when it was just him and Rin, but he hardly noticed it in those moments. He was distracted by Rin, and couldn’t care if the soothing thump was there or not when Rin absolutely was there, and very important.

(He swore he heard it the first time Rin kissed him, almost as loud as the sound of his own heart thundering in his ears.)

The last of the puzzle pieces fell into place after a late night with Lightning. He was sitting on the couch with Rin, listening to his new boyfriend’s description of his training and lulling into a place between sleep and awake as Rin’s fingers combed through his hair. He didn’t really notice himself tilting over, didn’t really notice Rin guiding Ryuuji’s head to his shoulder. Didn’t really notice the steady and familiar thump-thump-thumpety-thump filling his ears as Rin massaged the tension from his temple and cuddled him close.

He didn’t really put it together until Rin shifted and the little candle on the side table suddenly came in Ryuuji’s view. He blinked at it, coming back to himself a little, and realized the thumping under his ear was coming from Rin’s heart.

Ryuuji sucked in a startled breath and shot upright, gaping at the flame, and then at Rin.

“Ryuuji?”

“Holy shit.”

Rin raised an eyebrow and smiled in a slightly worried way. “You, uh, okay?”

“It was you!”

“Huh?”

Ryuuji dropped back down and pressed his ear against Rin’s chest, right over his heart. The thumping was a bit quicker now, but it was the same beats he’d listened to hundreds of times.

“Ryuuji?”

“It was you! All that time. I—” he laughed, breathless and still a little confused, but unable to deny the evidence. “It was your heart.”

“Hey,” Rin tugged at his hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to catch his attention. “You’re not making sense, princess.”

Ryuuji sat up, ignoring the teasing nickname for now. “I— when I was little, I used to sneak out to my temple?”

“Yeah, you told me about that. You’d listen to your dad chanting, ‘cause you’re an aria nerd.”

Ryuuji stuck his tongue out. “That wasn’t the reason, but yeah. Only, it wasn’t just then? I’d sneak out at night sometimes too. When I couldn’t sleep and stuff. I’d lay down by the fire and practice my chants, and there was always this sound that I could never find the source of, but that I’d always hear.” Ryuuji’s hand pressed over Rin’s heart as he spoke, fingers splaying to cover the precious spot and wondering just how it had happened. “It… You said Kurikara has your demon heart?”

“The koma sword? Yeah.” Rin motioned towards the table it was sitting on. Ryuuji reached for it before pausing.

“May I?”

“Yeah.”

He picked it up and brought it closer. It was warm to touch, and the metal was entirely smooth under his hands despite the scabbard and blade’s age. Rin watched him curiously, and looked entirely surprised when, instead of drawing the blade, Ryuuji brought the entire thing to his ear.

Thump-thump-thumpety-thump.

Holy shit.

He couldn’t hold in the slight laugh of disbelief and the strange mix of relief and excitement in his chest. Of course it was Rin’s heart. Of course it was from Kurikara and of course this boy had unintentionally been giving him rest for years.

“You kinda lost me there, princess.”

Ryuuji settled back down against Rin’s side and draped the sword over both their laps. Rin looped his arms around him, drawing him close and once again burying his fingers in Ryuuji’s hair.

“They had to be hiding it there,” Ryuuji explained as the comforting strokes of Rin’s fingers merged with the soothing sound of Rin’s heart. (Hearts?) “Kurikara. They had to be hiding it in the temple. It had to be… how… how I heard…”

Rin kept combing through his hair as he fell asleep to the familiar thumps under his ear.

#bonrin #ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #my tumblr fics #ryuuji suguro #ryuji suguro #bon suguro #aoex #rin okumura #bonxrin #bon/rin #bonfire #i love this idea so much #ryuuji growing up listening to rin's heart #not knowing it's kurikara #not knowing it's rin #figuring it out and being shocked #and a bit annoyed he took a while to figure it out #thank you so much for the prompt!!!!

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findinghomes · 1 year

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Stargazing by the neighbourhood and 11? :D

Hi Charlie!!!!🐸

I loved this song because of its coming of age, “let’s mess everything up together” kind of vibes, so that’s what I tried to capture in this new fic (official post coming out right now)

Your word was beamish!

Beamish (adj.) - bright, cheerful, and optimistic

I thought this was a perfect word to describe dnf because they are each other’s suns.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy :D

#first of the writing game!!!! woooo!!!!!!#our etymology #<- the name of the collection #thank you so much for the prompt!!!!#finn answers

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unforth · 9 months

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Gentle reminder that very little fandom labor is automated, because I think people forget that a lot.

That blog with a tagging system you love? A person curates those tags by hand.

That rec blog with a great organization scheme and pretty graphics? Someone designed and implemented that organization scheme and made those graphics.

That network that posts a cool variety of stuff? People track down all that variety and queue it by hand, and other people made all the individual pieces.

That post with umpteen links to helpful resources, and information about them? Someone gathered those links, researched the sources, wrote up the information about them.

That graphic about fandom statistics? Someone compiled those statistics, analyzed them, organized them, figured out a useful way to convey the information to others, and made the post.

That event that you think looks neat? Someone wrote the rules, created the blogs and Discords, designed the graphics, did their best to promo the event so it'd succeed.

None of this was done automatically. None of it just appears whole out of the internet ether.

I think everyone realizes that fic writing and fanart creation are work, and at least some folks have got it through their heads that gif creation and graphics and moodboards take effort, and meta is usually respected for the effort that goes into it, at least as far as I've seen, but I feel like a lot of people don't really get how much labor goes into curation, too.

If people are creating resources, curating content, organizing the creations of others, gathering information, and doing other fandom activities that aren't necessarily the direct action of creation, they're doing a lot of fandom labor, and it's often largely unrecognized.

Celebrate fan work!

To folks doing this kind of labor: I see you, and I thank you. You are the backbones of our fandoms and I love you.

#unforth rambles #this wasn't really prompted by anything #I'm just sick and tired and distractable #or i should say it wasn't prompted by anything recent or that happened now #like no one has disrespected me #but as i hit the point that it's regularly taking me an hour plus every single day to queue things for the danmei art blogs #i just think of all the times people go WAIT YOU RUN ALL OF THOSE??? BY YOURSELF???#like i just don't think a lot of people realize how much work it is to really do background fandom labor long term #and i appreciate places like rec blogs and networks and events and just everyone #y'all are awesome #thank you so much

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erwinsvow · 27 days

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Do you think rafe would wear necklace with his girl’s initial?? Like his girl bought it as a present and i’m curious on how rafe would react 😃

"so what i'm hearin' is you got me somethin' with my own money?" rafe asks, looking down at the neatly wrapped box, a pretty white ribbon looped around it. your fingers play with the satin bow, anxious for rafe to open it.

"rafe!" you start with a whine but stop yourself. "it's the thought that counts, okay?" he laughs, taking the gift from your hands.

"sure, kid. whatever you say." he undoes the bow, setting it aside since he knows you'll want to keep it. the wrapping paper gets ripped up and off, while you protest that it could have been reused. he opens the box, looking down at a thin silver chain. there's a little pendant hanging down, the shape of your initial.

he looks up from the chain at you, waiting for his response with big eyes and parted lips. you're playing with your R necklace, the way you always do when you're nervous.

"d-do you like it? i thought we could match," you say quietly, biting you lower lip in anticipation.

"yeah?" he questions, taking the jewelry out of the box and into his hand, feeling the weight of it in his palm.

"only if you like it. you don't have to wear it, i just-"

"just what?" he looks you right in the eyes, wanting your real answer, not just you bouncing around his question from nerves.

"i just wanted to make sure everyone knows you're mine." you lip stings from where you're biting down, rafe look into your eyes.

he opens his arms, and you crawl into his lap, taking the chain from his palm and putting it around his neck, clipping it into place. you smile, pressing a kiss to rafe's cheek, his hands tight on your waist.

"got that right, kid."

#babe i adore this prompt and you so much.#thank you <3333 hope you love angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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celestialwrites · 6 months

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saying ‘i love you’ without saying ‘i love you’ dialogue prompts

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ “to me, you are perfect.”

♡ "don't you realise? you are my world."

♡ "you brought me back to life."

♡ "the only way i know how to describe what i feel around you is home. i feel at home."

♡ "it's as if my entire life i have been sinking in a storm and you came and pulled me out."

♡ "you know i stayed for you, and frankly, i don't regret it one bit."

♡ "with the whole of my heart, i believe that together we are infinite."

♡ "i never intend on leaving you. you hear me? never."

♡ "thank you for being the shoulder i always needed, even when you hated me."

♡ "i can't live without you!"

♡ "never leave me, my heart couldn't bear it."

♡ "i've spent my whole life waiting for you."

♡ "consumed in darkness, you darling, were my light."

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3

#when i tell you guys im so sorry i haven’t posted much recently - i really am so sorry!!#writing and reading slumps suck and i’ve been so busy #thank you all for your patience !#writing prompts #writing prompt #creative writing #angst prompt #angst writing #writing fluff #fluff prompts #domestic fluff #writing inspiration #story prompt #dialogue prompts #dialogue prompt

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merimerz · 6 months

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day 10: storm

#fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem 13 #fe chrom #chrom #fe mustafa #my art #moxysfantober2023 #thank you moxy for the fantastic prompts I'm having so much fun!#ink month #ink month 2023

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ominouspuff · 1 month

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Vode An

REQUESTS / BLOG EVENT

From @ulchabhangorm - Palette#1 - Commander Wolffe - Music stirs the soul

#artists on tumblr #fan art #star wars fanart #star wars: the clone wars #commander wolffe #interactive art week March 2024 #Thank you so much for your note and prompt! this was such a satisfying one to draw #He feeling #He feeling lots

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obsessedwithstarwars · 1 year

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Jazz gets death threats working at Arkham Asylum. She thinks they’re hilarious. I mean, it’s hard not to laugh when you’re technically considered Queen Mother of The Infinite Realms. In her mind, the notes are basically telling her to go home and hug her brother/child.

The Batfam are growing increasingly concerned and confused as to why she doesn’t take these threats seriously.

#danny phantom #jazz fenton #jasmine fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #batman #arkham asylum #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #so much potential #angst or antics #you pick #tag me if you use this #please and thanks <3

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carmyboobear · 2 months

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Honestly I think if Carmy does dirty talk (once he gets some experience) he’s really going to love being condescending, and it’s so hot…

I AGREE. So much in fact that this was born. Wow. Heed the tags and proceed!!

Tags: explicit, dom carmy, cumplay, dirty talk, creampie, carmy being mean, but also sweet

“You’re so easy,” Carmy says with a smug look. He’s pushing his cock steadily and and out, repeatedly stretching you out further when he bottoms out again and again. “All you need is a cock in you and you’re almost fuckin’ coming already.

“You just feel so good,” you whine in defense, but with the way you’re clenching down around him, pussy so wet it’s dribbling, it’s not very successful.

“You just like being stretched out,” Carmy retorts. He pulls back and lets the round head pop out before bullying his cock back into you. You writhe below him. “It doesn’t have to be my cock. Could be my fingers. Almost got all 5 fingers in there last time, didn’t we?”

“Carmy,” you moan, your pussy wrecked by his relentless pace and his dirty, dirty words. “B-But I—I like your cock…”

“I think you just like it when I come in you,” he says, voice low in your ears. “You like the feeling of my cum inside you. Whether it’s in your pussy or down your throat…” His fingers tweak at your clit, flicking it up, and you flinch with a surprised moan. “I should get a plug to keep it all inside you.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp, scandalized, but the telltale sign of dense heat weighing in your gut says otherwise.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you? Going through your day with my cum in your pussy?” Carmy’s grinding his thick cock inside you, getting sweet friction on your walls. “Fuckin’ slut.”

His fingers pinch your clit, and you let out something akin to a sob.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasp. The pressure’s so fucking tight. “Carm—“

“You’re so easy,” Carmy laughs lowly, breathlessly. “Go on, take it. Come like the easy slut you are.”

His fingers glide from side to side on your slippery clit in a blur as he thrusts in an even, firm rhythm that has you choking on your own gasps. You come with overwhelmed tears in your eyes, moaning Carmy’s name so loud it’s almost a scream. You’re throbbing so tightly on his dick like it’s a lifeline.

“Th-that’s fucking right—fffuck—“ His moans are deep, resonating from his core. He staggers inside you from the sharp pleasure of your tightening walls. He fucks you through your orgasm, stretching it out like a thin piece of gum until it snaps, and in turn, your hole sucks his cock so much he comes.

When he pulls out, his soft cock is smeared in a shiny mixture of your combined cum. Your cream lays thick on his shaft, and somehow, there’s still beads of his cum in his slit. Your mouth waters looking at it. So does your pussy. Carmy’s cum, pale and abundant, pools rapidly at your abused entrance and spills over.

“Look at you,” Carmy murmurs in awe. His thumb drags up from where you’re leaking and sinks inside, pushing his cum back in. “Took me so well, baby…”

He praises you with little kisses and affection, kissing gently at your legs, stomach, collarbone. Brings you close to him, brushes sweaty strands of hair out of your face.

“Sorry if I went too far,” Carmy mumbles after you’ve both come down. Your head rests on his chest, and you’re playing with the curls of his hair. “With anything.”

“You were wonderful,” you assure him. “Could’ve even been a little meaner and I would’ve liked it.” That gets an abrupt laugh out of him, equal parts embarassment and delight.

“Oh yeah?” You can tell by the way he’s saying it that he’s choosing to take that as a challenge. You can see the gears turning, and it’s making you a good kind of nervous. “I think I got a couple ideas.”

“Looking forward to it,” you say, like it doesn’t make you wanna squirm, and he smiles knowingly, bringing you in for another kiss.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #carmy smut #my asks #HAHhhHHhhH I’ve been busy working and haven’t had much time to write so this ask collected dust for a bit… sorry!!!#I wasn’t brave enough to write carmy meaner but u KNOW I wanted to. anyway this was a fantastic prompt THANK YOU ANON.#hope everyone is having a fantastic day…#My blurbs #my smut

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months

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Mushroom body

(for @mikkeneko)

#SVSSS #shen qingqiu #mushrooms #body horror #better drawn mdzs #<-tag for higher effort art. At times like this I really wish I chose something else.#What is an October raffle for if not to end off with a little mushroomy body horror?#This one is inspired by my massive disappointment upon discovering that sqq's 'mushroom body' was just....guy shaped.#Come ON where is the fun in that? Why are we being kept from Fungi Amalgamation Monster Loving?#It's not going to stop Luo Binghe! SQQ could be a shapeless lump of slime and LBH and would still be over the moon for him.#Thank you *so* much for the prompt! I had so much fun. I love mushrooms and doing research was a delight! My citation list is long!#Broke my style a bit but I think it was a good choice. I have been trying to practice non-dot eyes more and its slowly coming along!#Also huge congrats mikkeneko for winning Twice In A Row!!#Your odds were a little over 1 in 1000! Lucky you!

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hatepotion · 1 year

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oh boy do i have prompts for you!!! literally anything with cam because i love her so much. cam and gideon? cam and pal? cam and nona? cam and corona? cam and pal and harrow and gideon? possibly these are not good prompts because. i'm just listing characters so let me get back to you with more elaborate prompts lol

i stole this from a post you reblogged, so it's only fair :)

#thank you so much for the prompts :^)#and thank you to EVERYONE who sent me suggestions! i'm so excited about all of them. can't wait to draw more #campal #camilla hect #palamedes sextus #the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #my art

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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground.

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up.

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop.

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone.

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified.

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide.

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either.

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows.

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative.

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing.

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets.

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like.

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner.

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot.

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting.

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck.

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out.

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!”

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him.

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?”

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first.

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse.

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #gotta be honest i do Not know much abt the We Are Robin movement. have yet to read those comics....#also this definitely deviated a bit from your prompt. sorry!! still hope i got the main things you wanted to see #duke being dannys hero is something so special to me...#also it is his parents selling weapons and blueprints and things to the giw which is then given to the military for new weapons #a truly terrible pipeline #duke and jason and whoever else joins will find the source of the weapons. break into the fenton home. and dannys just there eating toast #in his pjs like. um hi guys did u need something? (and staring at duke like DUDE HELLO WTF??)#a mess of a situation :) not gonna write it bc i know it would get away from me and get so long #thanks for the prompt!!

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

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Okay so @willowworkswithwords sent me this fucking perfect prompt about Steve casually mentioning how much of an asshole his dad is is during a movie night at the Munsons and Wayne immediately shifting into Concerned mode, and I almost finished the thing but then tumblr glitched and i lost it to the void forever. I learned my lesson to never save anything to tumblr without backup ever again, buuut here it finally is:

Wayne first met Steve Harrington long before Eddie officially started dating the boy. He figured out that his nephew was head over heels before Eddie himself did. He hadn't been too thrilled about it, at first. In his experience, boys like Steve Harrington, with his big car and neatly ironed polo shirts, could only want two things from boys like his Eddie: drugs and secret encounters in the dark before he'd finally follow the path that was perfectly mapped out for him by his parents. But it didn't take him too long before he admitted that he had misjudged the boy. He noticed it even before Eddie himself did: Steve Harrington had fallen like a brick for his nephew, and he was in it for the long run.

He mostly met the boy in passing, whenever he'd come home from his night shift while Steve was just leaving the trailer park, or when he'd be heading out to get to work at the same time as Steve came by to pick up Eddie for a date or to hang out with that group of freshmen that Eddie would never stop talking about. The boy was always perfectly polite to him, calling him things like Sir and Mister, apologizing for being in his space and thanking him for the most ridiculous little things. Wayne thought it was a bit much, but he supposed that it was just how the boy had been raised, all formal and uptight. There was something behind it, however, a certain guarded look in his eyes, that always gave Wayne this uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He didn't quite understand what that was all about – until the three of them were having a movie night in the trailer on one of Wayne's nights off.

The two boys were all over each other on the couch, their legs entangled and their fingers intertwined, with their heads as close together as if they'd die if they wouldn't be breathing the exact same air. It made Wayne wish he had a camera on him; instead, he tried to imprint the picture into his memory.

He didn't care too much for the movie, which was about some rich teenage girl trying to break free from the restrictive uptown life that was suffocating her by getting herself some no-good boyfriend in a leather jacket – who Steve and Eddie enthusiastically agreed was a “hot piece of ass.” The main bad guy was the girl's dad, a character who checked off all the rich asshole dad stereotypes: suit that made him look bigger than he actually was, wife who let herself be bossed around by him at all times, and that kind of undefinable charisma, which made everyone else feel like all the air had left the room whenever he'd walk in.

'He kinda reminds me of my dad,' said Steve while leaning forward to get himself a handful of popcorn. It was just an innocent, offhand remark, and sounded perfectly nonchalant – but as he said it, the camera zoomed in on the girl's face to convey one single emotion: fear.

Steve leaned back into the couch and stuffed his mouth full of popcorn, getting crumbs all over his shirt and seemingly not noticing how both Wayne and Eddie had frozen by his remark.

Wayne met his nephew's wide-eyed gaze over the top of Steve's big hair. Wayne wasn't exactly a talkative person, and over the years in which Eddie had been living with him, they had perfected the art of silent communication, not needing more than some looks and gestures to have complete conversations with each other.

Wayne raised an eyebrow at Eddie, which meant something along the lines of Did you know about this?

Eddie responded with a barely-visible nod.

Wayne made a sideways movement with his head. Why didn't you tell me?

Eddie shrugged. It wasn't my place to tell, that meant.

Wayne nodded at him and turned his gaze back to the screen, but he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to properly shift his attention back to the plot.

'You wanna stay over?' Eddie asked Steve when the movie was finished.

Steve's eyes immediately flashed to Wayne's corner, that familiar guarded look in them. 'Um... Would you – would it be okay if I stayed the night, sir?'

'You can stay whenever you like, son,' said Wayne. 'And stop calling me sir, alright?'

'Alright, yeah, okay, sorry sir,' Steve stammered, which made Eddie burst into loud laughter. Wayne merely shook his head and got up from his chair.

He never sat Steve down for some official talk about his asshole dad – that wasn't his style anyway. He preferred conveying the message by little gestures: calling him “son” whenever he had the chance, refusing to be called “sir” ever again, giving him a key to the trailer, inviting him over to watch basketball together, taking him fishing when they both had a day off work... After a while, that guarded look finally disappeared from the boy's face. But it returned a couple months later, when Steve accidentally called Wayne “dad” in a distracted moment. Wayne didn't say anything about it; he merely gave the boy a pat on his shoulder to let him know it was okay. He didn't mind getting called “dad” by Steve Harrington for one bit.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #willow thank you so much for sending me this prompt i really loved it #wayne munson my beloved #ficlet #stranger things #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fruity ficlet

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