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strangersteddierthings · 11 months

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Are you interested in writing something billy is still giving steve a hard time at school like since max isn't there to keep an eye on him, maybe like in the locker rooms, something more privately, since Nancy would also probably say something and eddie walks in on the aftermath and he decides to help despite not thinking highly of steve yet

Eddie is returning from skipping class when he hears a clang! ring out as he passes by the locker room. A well-known sound, one of someone being shoved against the lockers. His first thought is poor bastard but better you than me and his second thought, because his uncle raised him right, is I better check this out, and if nothing else, I'm a witness.

"Not so tough without a twelve-year-old girl here to protect you, huh," Billy Hargrove's voice is unmistakable. Eddie's heard it enough this year, between selling him weed and setting between him and members of Hellfire. He's willing to admit some curiosity to the statement Hargrove just made. Who in the hell is he beating up that was saved by a twelve-year-old last time?

"She's thirteen, you jackass," groans a suspiciously familiar voice. Eddie knows he knows it but can't place it.

"You always seem to focus on the shit that doesn't matter," Hargrove sounds amused, like he's smiling while he talks. Eddie can see it now, the too big, too fake grin that spreads across Hargrove's face before he lunges like a feral dog.

What follows next is the sound of a tussle. It sounds more like a wrestling match than a fight, but the squeak of gym shoes against linoleum changes pitch, and Eddie is moving. Hargrove is dragging someone around in there and the little voice in the back of his mind that sounds like Wayne will not let him get a bit of sleep this week if he walks away.

It's a shock, to put it mildly, when sees Hargrove and Harrington, neither of which are wearing gym clothes, so Eddie has no idea how they ended up here. He watches as Hargrove tosses Harrington to the ground in the showers, whose head bounces off the tile. Ouch. Before he can say anything, make his presence known, Hargrove reaches over and turns the shower on, dousing Harrington.

"This seems... interesting," Eddie says, trying to play it cool, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the lockers to survey the situation. They both have bruising, days old it looks like, on their faces. Maybe they'd come here to try and finish what they'd started? "Who's winning?"

Hargrove laughed. "You've got a good sense of humor. Knew I liked you."

He tries to give back a shit-eating grin, but it probably just looks like a grimace. He's not a fan of either of these two and does really wish he'd kept walking. He's quickly trying to weigh the pros and cons of taking a side here. Hargrove's a jackass but he's also one of Eddie's best customers and he can't really afford to lose him; not with the amount Hargrove buys. Harrington, however, has become the more bearable of the two to be around, since Jonathon Byers rocked his shit last year, but he didn't buy his drugs from Eddie, so...

The water shuts off, catching Eddie's attention. He and Hargrove both turn to Harrington, who looks so pathetic using the shower walls to climb his way to standing.

"No, yeah, I can definitely tell who won," Eddie says, earning him another laugh from Hargrove, who claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder as he moves past, leaving the locker room without another word.

Harrington, meanwhile, staggers out of the slash zone and pulls his shirt off, trying to wring out the water from it. Eddie just watches. This is the easiest fight he's ever had to breakup, and while he doesn't know why it was so easy, he's not really going to start asking questions. Honestly, the less he knows, the better.

"Don't think that's gonna work."

"Helpful," Harrington mutters, even as he lowers his arms in defeat and frowns down at his shirt like it's the shirt's fault he's wet.

Eddie is not staring. He's not. Because that's the kind of shit he's learned to not do because it gets the shit beat out of you. So, it's not staring. It's... investigating. Categorizing the damage Hargrove has done. To make it known that is what he's doing, he asks, "how much of that was Hargrove?" as he gestures to all of Harrington with one hand.

Harrington looks down at his own chest, almost bewildered, like he can't believe he's bruised. "Uhh.... 73 percent?"

He doesn't want to laugh but his body makes an involuntary snort-giggle at Harrington's questioning voice. "Alright. What's the other 27 percent from?"

Harrington pokes at a bruise and then sways violently, stumbling himself backwards to slam into the wall. "Shit. Think 'm concussed again. Didn't think the first one was done."

"Shit, man. We need to get you to the nurse," Eddie might not like Harrington, but concussions are no joke. Eddie'd been in charge of waking his uncle every hour on the hour a few years ago, when he'd got knocked good on the head at the plant.

"Right. Sounds good," Harrington agreed, even as he slumped more against the wall.

Shit. Eddie's going to have to drag him there, he can tell already. "Alright, man, let's go."

Harrington doesn't protest when Eddie shoves himself under his arm and wraps a hand around his middle. Harrington and he are the same height, it seems, but the dude's been on every sports team the school offers, like not being involved in an after-school activity will result in his death or something. What he's getting at is that he certainly weighs more, what with the muscle mass he's got going.

Briefly he wonders if a concussed Harrington would let him get away with coping a feel at his abs or arms, but that's dismissed immediately. Stop being a creep, Munson.

"Why're you helpin'?" Harrington says, about halfway to the nurse.

Eddie shrugs, "my uncle always says to look out for the little guy."

"Hey. I coulda won that fight. If he hadn't brained me on the lockers before repeating the performance with the shower tiles."

"You're going to have brain damage."

"Mmmm think I've always had that," Harrington says it softly, like he's talking to himself and has forgotten Eddie is within hearing distance. "I think each blow to the head is making me, like, a better person. Un-brain damaged."

"Yeaaahh, not sure about that last bit, but you've been less of an ass since Byers got you last year, so I can't say for sure you aren't right."

They make it to the nurse. Eddie deposits Harrington into an empty chair and the nurse helpfully gives Eddie a note for his next class, should he decide to actually go.

"Wait," Harrington calls out when Eddie's half out the door, so he twists to look back, raising an eyebrow at him. "Thanks, Eddie."

"Don't worry about it, Har-Steve," Eddie replies, slipping out the door and closing it behind him. Since when does Harrington know his name?

#Anonymous #thanks for the prompt anon!#hope you like this lil thing #my fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #billy hargroves here too

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matchingbatbites · 1 year

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“What, am I not allowed to look at you?”

For the prompts?

It's one of those rare mornings where they have nothing to do and nowhere to be. Steve woke up over twenty minutes ago, and where normally he would be up and about already, making coffee or throwing something together for breakfast, today he lounges.

Eddie is still asleep, stretched out on his stomach with his face turned towards Steve. He always looks so soft when he sleeps, all of his excitable energy laid dormant, his features smooth and careless.

Steve's been watching him for a while now, has raked his eyes over bare shoulders and traced the curve of Eddie's back, traced his lips and the way his lashes fan over his cheeks.

It's a rare opportunity he has, getting to observe his boyfriend without him bouncing off the walls, and he intends to spend as long as he can doing just that.

"You're starting to creep me out, Harrington."

Eddie's voice is rough from sleep, and Steve huffs a laugh as his boyfriend cracks an eye open.

"What, am I not allowed to look at you?"

"Watching people while they sleep tends to be reserved for stalkers and serial killers, babe."

Steve grins and moves closer, draping his arm across Eddie's shoulders and bumping their noses together gently.

"Oh? What about people who have super hot boyfriends?"

A soft hum.

"I guess we can make an exception, if this guy is as hot as you say he is."

"Oh, he definitely is. Even with morning breath."

Eddie grins before blowing air directly into Steve's face, and the younger rolls his eyes as he closes the distance between them to press a brief kiss to Eddie's mouth.

"Coffee?"

"Fuck yes."

Send me a prompt!

#thanks for the prompt anon!#hope you like it!#i feel like these are sooo short #but it's flash fiction so it's supposed to be lol #steddie #steddie ficlet #joey writes #stranger things #prompt fill #drabble

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bumblebeehug · 5 months

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Here's a prompt:

Lucy falling asleep somewhere (desk? Couch? the floor?) and Natsu carrying her to bed

The days inbetween

Ao3

***

Lucy’s days were never alike. She didn’t have a set scheme for when she ate breakfast, when she went to work, when she came back home or when she fell asleep. Her work as a mage meant unreliable hours, and with her team it could also mean quite unreliable pay. Often she could be away for a few days, sometimes weeks, and at the end all their reward money would go to repair any damages caused by them. Well, caused by Natsu, Gray, Erza and even Wendy, more often than Lucy.

This way of living wasn’t very sustainable. Everyone in the guild knew how futile Team Natsu’s missions turned out, and though Lucy would love to tell herself that money didn’t matter, her friends and her team mattered more. She couldn’t argue with facts – she had to pay the rent and have money for groceries. So, when weeks went by without any jobs – be it because people needed time to heal, or someone going on another job with other people, Lucy had the opportunity to earn some pocket money through journalism. She quit the job for good after working there for a year, but thankfully they told her that she always was welcome to work extra there.

Mostly that entailed editing other journalists' pieces, keeping the office neat or buying coffee as a temporary assistant. It gave her a moderate sum of money and didn’t require her to be around for an extended amount of time – it was flexible work. Other times, however, she knew she had a week or two off, and those times she could do proper journalistic work. Since she was one of the few mages that worked journalistically in Magnolia, she could take on stories that required the reporter to go into more dangerous situations.

So, that was exactly what she had been doing for the last six days. She had been allowed to write a story covering mage-less crime in the centre of Magnolia, and had gathered all the information she currently required. Since she wasn’t working with the others in the office, she could manage her hours however she wanted, which meant that she, at 11:30pm on a Sunday night, was sprawled across her living room floor, papers and notes from interviews and police reports surrounding her, trying to make an informed yet catchy summary of her conclusion. She wanted to finish this before the editorial office opened tomorrow, at 6am. If she only knew how to elegantly wrap this story up. She already had three titles, a dozen photos for the editors to choose from, and she had just the right number of characters so that there’d be space for photos, undertitles, fact boxes and more.

All this work had her absolutely exhausted. She usually didn’t drink coffee due to her dislike of the taste, but despite this, she had already had six cups of coffee in total, just in the last twelve hours. The initial caffeine kick had helped her speed through this project, but now she was feeling the consequences – a major caffeine dip. Her movements felt sluggish, her eyesight was getting worse by the minute, and she didn’t manage to form a single thought. It wasn’t even that late, compared to when she usually finished her articles, but she truly messed up by drinking all that coffee.

Lucy reluctantly lied down on her side. She told herself she just made herself comfortable to read through her article from the beginning, but she knew she was lying to herself. If she didn’t sleep now there was no way she’d be able to make it to the office tomorrow morning - she probably wouldn’t even be able to wake up until 11am. So, she decided not to beat herself up over allowing her heavy eyelids to close for a while. And she didn’t feel bad for crinkling some of her workpapers as she made herself comfortable on the rug. She didn’t even worry about saving energy by turning off the lights in the kitchen – just this once she let herself indulge in not doing things properly.

***

When Natsu opened the front door he was surprised to see the lights on. It certainly made it easier for him to navigate around the shoes in the hallway, but he couldn’t help but feel curious. Was Lucy still awake? She couldn’t be, she told her just yesterday she had to go to her extra job early Monday morning – it wouldn’t make sense for her to be awake at 2am.

He slowly made his way around the apartment, trying to piece together what was going on. As soon as he turned the corner he got his answer. Two metres away, Lucy lay curled up on the rug just by the couch. She had made quite a mess, papers and notepads acting as tripping hazards through the entire room. He practically had to go through an obstacle course just to reach her.

Lucy looked peaceful where she slept, and hadn’t he known better he’d think she was comfortable on the rug. Her eyes moved around quite a bit under her eyelids, so he suspected she was dreaming about something. Hopefully only good dreams. Though, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was having a nightmare – after all, they had been through a lot in their lives, and some things weren’t easily forgotten. Natsu knew that from experience.

He quickly decided that she couldn’t keep sleeping there. She would definitely be mad at herself for not going to sleep properly if she woke up with pains, plus, Natsu had come here to sleep in bed with her, not to imitate the way they slept when they were out camping on missions. They could do that any other time, but there was no way that he would pass on the opportunity to spend the night in her bed. He never slept quite as good anywhere else – it had to be Lucy’s bed, with her in it.

Carefully he took her in his arms, making sure not to shake her around too much, in case she woke up. Luckily she only stirred a little, grabbing Natsu’s neck and drawing him close into a hug. Natsu swiftly put his arm under her legs and stood up, proud to have successfully picked her up, even getting rewarded with a hug. Lucy had managed to nuzzle her face into the crook between Natsu’s neck and shoulder, and Natsu felt his entire soul yearn for a cuddle in bed, so he could reciprocate.

Making sure to be light on his feet, he managed to snuck into the bedroom without stepping on her important papers. He almost slipped on a pencil, but quickly regained his balance. As soon as he got away from the mess he hurried to the bed, moving the comforter and placing down Lucy in one movement. Then he undressed, knowing that Lucy hated it when he touched her bed in his outside clothes, and joined her.

Natsu’s heart was full as he laid beside her. He took her in his arms, wrapped them around her waist and took a deep breath, full of the scent of Lucy and the shampoo she loves. She truly fit in his arms perfectly, lying flesh against his body as he spooned her. Natsu couldn’t remember if they always had been able to cuddle this comfortably, or if there had been a time where his arms would fall asleep or she’d toss around to find a comfortable spot. He wouldn’t be surprised however if they actually were made for each other.

Any other day, Lucy would have woken up and given him a lecture on how friends weren’t allowed to use emergency keys for anything other than an actual emergency. She’d tell him off, try to make him sleep on the couch “where friends belonged” and nag him for not taking a shower before bed. Today, however, Natsu thanked the heavens for her part time job. It may be the reason Lucy’s unavailable a lot of the time, despite them being on breaks from missions, but it was also the reason she didn’t wake up today, earning him some extra cuddle time, filled with the softness and warmth of her body.

Before he fell asleep himself, he managed to kiss Lucy just below her ear, almost on her jaw. Once in a while he allowed himself to indulge in the love he felt for her, or else he knew he would go crazy. One more soft peck, and then he joined her in the world of dreams.

So, that was exactly what she had been doing for the last six days. She had been allowed to write a story covering mage-less crime in the centre of magnolia, and had gathered all the information she currently required. Since she wasn’t working with the others in the office, she could manage her hours however she wanted, which meant that she, at 11:30pm on a Sunday night, was sprawled across her living room floor, papers and notes from interviews and police reports surrounding her, trying to make an informed yet catchy summary of her conclusion. She wanted to finish this before the editorial office opened tomorrow, at 6am. If she only knew how to elegantly wrap this story up. She already had three titles, a dozen photos for the editors to choose from, and she had just the right number of characters so that there’d be space for photos, undertitles, fact boxes and more.

***

Natsu’s heart was full as he laid beside her. He took her in his arms, wrapped them around her waist and took a deep breath, full of the scent of Lucy and the shampoo she loves. She truly fit in his arms perfectly, lying flush against his body as he spooned her. Natsu couldn’t remember if they always had been able to cuddle this comfortably, or if there had been a time where his arms would fall asleep or she’d toss around to find a comfortable spot. He wouldn’t be surprised however if they actually were made for each other.

#thanks for the prompt anon!#i wrote a little something lol i hope that's fine #nalu fairy tail #nalu #nalu fanfiction #nalu fanfic #nalu drabble #drabble #bumblebeehug writes #fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #fairy tail nalu

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gintrinsic-writing · 2 months

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Drabble prompt: in the mines

The entrance to the mine loomed over them like a cold, black tomb. Nothing seemed to stir within.

"I vote no," Wind announced promptly, crossing his arms as he squinted into the darkness.

Wild picked up a small stone and rolled it between his palms before throwing it into the mine. It vanished amidst the shadows with an echo that carried for far too long. Wild's ears twitched uncertainly. "Could be fun?"

"A glowing review," Legend drawled. He turned to Hyrule with obvious doubt. "You're sure there isn't another way? I've heard of this place--even in my time, Moria was dangerous."

"There's only the mountain pass. I don't think we have a choice."

"Hyrule's right," Time answered, though he sounded troubled. "The wizzrobes have made the pass too dangerous. We'd freeze before we ever reached the other side. The only way is through." Despite his words, he angled himself between the younger heroes and the mine.

Twilight began tying a bandana around the lower half of his face. "Smells like death. A lot of it. And 'blins."

"Anything else?" Four asked resignedly.

"... trolls, too."

Legend and Sky harmonized as they groaned.

While the others regretted every choice that led to this moment, Warriors approached Time and quietly asked, "What about our little tagalong?"

"I'm not sure," Time answered just as quietly. "I can't fathom why the Skull Kid would be following us, or how, but he hasn't caused trouble yet."

"This is going to be a disaster, mark my words."

"Marked, Captain," Time answered wryly. Louder, he said, "Alright, let's move out. Keep your wits about you, limit chatter, and absolutely no wandering."

Wild smiled innocently, but Hyrule didn't appear to notice Time's pointed look. Instead, he cast a wary glance across the small lake they'd passed earlier. The water rippled. "I think... we have a problem," Hyrule warned.

Warriors didn't hesitate to draw his sword. "And so it begins."

#lol I couldn’t resist this goofy crossover #thanks for the prompt anon!#lotr Lu #Lu fic #lu time #lu warriors #lu hyrule #gintrinsic writing #ask prompt #linked universe

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dimplesandfierceeyes · 7 months

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Hey Kayla!! Hope u r doing well.

Saw u were taking bad buddy prompts. How about one with PatPran as dads. U can try nothing complicated with lots of domestic fluff. I'd love to see ur view on that.

Hello! Thank you for dropping by to give me a prompt. This is not usually something I would write so it actually ended up working really well as a little warm-up prompt because it made me think a creatively about how I'd approach it. Served me well for a few sessions!

I'm not sure this is exactly what you had in mind, but I thought you'd like to see the end result. (It's unedited and unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes)

---

Parentis Quaestio

“I’m dead,” Pat declared, flopping down on their borrowed bed in Uncle Tong’s guestroom. Pran managed a hum of agreement as he sat down on the edge, peering over his shoulder at his practically disarticulated boyfriend.

A gaggle of summer school children had visited the Eco Village and as freeloading guests, Pat and Pran had been draughted in to help herd and entertain them.

“Who knew a bunch of nine-year-olds would be so hard to control?” Pat lamented.

“I can’t believe you let your lot run into the sea.”

“I didn’t let them. They ran in there when my back was turned!” Pran laughed, shaking his head, and Pat lifted his own head to glare at him. “Excuse me, at least none of my kids fell asleep listening to me drone on about plastic composition.”

Pran’s grin was whipped from his face and he scowled instead. “My talk was very interesting, thank you. That kid was just tired.”

“Uh huh,” Pat replied, unconvinced. His disbelief was duly ignored.

Before Pran could get too grumpy, Pat tugged him down onto the bed beside him, ignoring Pran’s amused protests as he rolled over to hug him like a limpet. Despite said protests, Pran’s hand found Pat’s head where it was laid on his chest instantly, stroking through the strands as if without thinking.

“Do you think…” Pat started before trailing off.

“What?”

“Nah, it’s alright.”

“Go on, do I think what?”

Pat chewed his lip for a second before figuring out how to frame his question. “Do you think it would be like this all the time, hectic and… and exhausted, if we, you know, if we ever had kids?”

Pran’s hand stalled in Pat’s hair, suddenly heavy against Pat’s head. “...I don’t know.”

The words were weighted with hesitation and Pat grimaced. He hurried to mitigate. “I’m not saying that we ever would have kids, I’m just saying you know.” He twisted his head up to grin winningly but Pran just eyed him knowingly.

“Is that something… you want? Kids?” Pran replied instead of taking the easy escape Pat had set up. His eyes were serious.

“It’s not that,” Pat replied. “I was just… wondering. What it’s like. That’s all.”

Pran was quiet for a second before replying. “You can tell me. We’ve never actually talked about it before so… I want to know how you feel about it.”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it that much but I guess I kind of… expected to? Before… this, well, I guess I thought I’d end up with a girl, we’d get married and then that’s the kind of thing that just happens, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Pran argued softly.

“No. No, it doesn’t have to be,” Pat echoed definitely, but even as he said it, there was a dragging weight in his stomach. Not exactly disappointment, more a realisation that a door was locked that you’d always thought was open for you to walk through anytime if you’d wanted. “So you’ve never wanted them?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Pat’s heart skipped a beat and Pran’s hand started to move again as he looked up at the ceiling.

“So…?”

“It’s… a big commitment. You have to be ready and I’m not sure if I’m ever… I don’t know. It’s not an easy process either. We’d have to adopt and there’s no guarantees. I think… that’s another reason I’ve never really thought about it.”

“I get it. It would be a big disappointment.”

“Yeah.” Pran sighed. “Plus, not to mention our families.”

“You never know,” Pat replied jovially. “A grandkid might just get them over all the feud stuff.”

Pran snorted. "I doubt it."

---

"Our baby's all grown up and left us!" Pat wailed, flopping over the steering wheel after pulling up outside of their house.

They’d only just finished moving their daughter into her new dorm room. Barely three minutes ago, he’d been cracking jokes with her new roommates and giving her hangover advice, but the second they’d left the building he’d been sighing dramatically and pouting.

“She’s only twenty minutes away.” Pran pointed out.

“Don’t act like you’re not bothered. I know you’re going to be restless all week, just like every time she had a sleepover.”

“I was not restless every time she had a sleepover,” Pran replied with affront.

“Pran, the last time she spent the night elsewhere you cleaned your entire collection of architecture models. Twice.”

“They still had dust on them,” Pran sulked, but there wasn’t much fight in it.

“I can’t believe she’s already gone to college. It feels like we only brought her home a week ago.” Pat sighed in response, looking up at the house as if seeing their old apartment, with the nursery Pran had sacrificed his music room for and the cute but expensive bed they’d spent hours trying to put together which turned out to be just that little bit too small for a four-year-old.

It had been the first of many lessons on the steep and perilous learning curve that had hit them for that first year. Several mistakes, countless compromises and a lot of love later and here they were, back to an empty nest. The thought made Pran smile ruefully.

Parenthood had put a lot of things into a different perspective for both of them; their own upbringing, their parents’ situation, the relationships they had with them now. Some things were easier to understand; others were harder, but there was an equilibrium to it. And amazingly, all those years ago, lying on Uncle Tong’s spare bed, having their first fragile conversation about this aspect of their possible future, Pat had been right. Having a grandchild had changed things for the better.

Or at least, Ming and Dissaya could now be in the same room for over an hour and remain civil the entire time. Both Pran and Pat were happy to take it.

“Come on, we should go in. No point sitting about out here,” Pran finally said. He pushed open the door and stepped out. Pat followed him, a pensive expression on his face.

Pran pulled out his keys and walked up to the front door. As he pressed them into the lock, he felt Pat’s arm slip around his waist.

“You were making jokes and laughing when we were there but now you’re all clingy and pitiful,” Pran tutted as he pushed open the door.

“I can be pitiful if I want to,” Pat whined. “After all, maybe if I’m really pitiful, my husband will do something to cheer me up.”

There was a note to his tone that made Pran’s eyes narrow. “Is that right?”

“Well,” Pat continued, his breath warm against the back of Pran’s neck, “there’s only us here now after all…”

Even after all these years and a less than regular gym schedule, Pat had plenty of strength in his muscles and Pran couldn’t help the little buzz of warmth that slipped through him as Pat tugged him closer, pulling him flush against Pat’s front.

“Seriously?” he laughed, but made no attempt to escape.

“Come on, how long has it been since we could be as loud as we want?”

“As I recall, you’re the loud one.”

Pat hummed a shameless agreement. “And you like it.”

“Hmm, do I?” Pran pretended to be unconvinced. “I guess, you’ll have to remind me.”

He felt Pat’s grin against his skin for just a second before he was dragged inside.

#thanks for the prompt anon!#the prompt box is still open for anyone who has any ideas for little warm-up fics to get my fingers typing to #bad buddy #patpran #bad buddy fanfic #bad buddy fanfiction #bad buddy prompt #lovely asks

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gemgirl28 · 1 year

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this hurts | zutara

Hello anon! Thanks for the ask!

Let's go ahead and put a TW on this for childbirth and pregnancy.

This hurts

Zuko hated feeling useless. If nothing else, he was a man of action.

It was what had led him to finding the Avatar, and eventually teaching Aang firebending. It was also why, after long days of policy meetings where nothing seemed to change, Zuko would slip on a familiar old mask and take his daos, slipping into the quiet streets of Caldera City to help the helpless.

But now, watching Katara's face contort in pain, all he could do was let her squeeze his hand until she broke his bones.

"This hurts," she whimpered in between contractions.

"I know, love, but you're doing so well. You're amazing at everything you do, and this is no exception."

She let out a deep groan that made his stomach twist into knots.

"Not much longer," said Yugoda. "Just one or two more pushes."

"See? Nearly there. You've done so, so beautifully," Zuko said, brushing back a damp lock from her face. Katara took a deep breath and nodded.

"Just two more. I've already done way more than that, right?" She asked.

"You have! You're so strong. So, so brave," he whispered.

"Ready?" Yugoda asked.

Katara met his his eyes, and he beamed at her, so gorgeous even after hours of labor.

"Okay," she said. "Ready."

Send me a prompt and a pairing!

#tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #pregnancy #childbirth #I just imagine Zuko being an anxious ball of nerves but doing his best to hide it from Katara #Cause he knows however awful he feels #she feels a million times worse #anyways #thanks for the prompt anon!#Anon asks #my writing #zutara #zutara ficlet #soft angst prompt #send me a prompt

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hollysoda · 1 year

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How about "hug" as a prompt?

Legend balled his fists. “She was the love of my life.” He sighed. Familiar bitter tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. “And it’s because of me that I’ll never see her again. I can’t help but feel jealous whenever I hear someone talking so passionately about their loved one because I just…” he trailed off, swallowing the lump in his throat. It was unlike him to express his vulnerabilities. “I just wish that was us…”

Before Legend could talk any more a pair of warm arms moved to wrap around his torso. He momentarily flinched, hugs weren’t really his favourite thing, but the person hugging him was Sky. It was hard to say no to Sky. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so inconsiderate.” The Skyloft knight murmured. His fingers rubbed slow, soothing circles into Legend’s back.

Legend’s hands hovered over Sky, taking a second to process. He took a deep breath, then returned the embrace, resting his chin against Sky’s shoulder. With his face now out of sight he allowed the tears to roll down his cheeks, whilst somewhere overheard, a seagull let out a familiar sounding cry.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu fics #lu legend #linkeduniverse legend #lu sky #linkeduniverse sky #thanks for the prompt anon!

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gerec · 2 years

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Cherik 63 & 84 please!

63. injury 84. at the hospital

Of all the things Erik expected when he woke up that morning, it was definitely not ending up in the hospital with bruised ribs and a broken leg. He hadn't even made it to the office, with the accident happening not ten minutes into his morning commute, the little kid darting out into oncoming traffic right in his path.

If not for his mutation, and Erik using every bit of his ability to throw the car (and himself) out of the child's way things would have ended much more tragically than just him spending a few weeks recuperating in bed.

The other thing he hadn't expected was to wake up with his ex husband at his bedside, looking pale as a ghost as he held Erik's hand.

"You're here. They called you?"

Charles chuckled, a thin, watery sound that reminded him too much of their fights before he'd walked out of Erik's life and out of their marriage. "They called Edie and she called me. She's on her way; caught the first flight she could out of Frankfurt."

"Oh." He shifted a little and winced, his ribs protesting even with the drugs he'd been given. "What about the little girl? Is she alright?"

That really should have been his first question, but Charles always did have a way of distracting him, filling every thought in his head with his mere presence. It had been that way when they dated, and when they were married, and apparently even now...after.

"She's fine, Erik. You saved her life," Charles said, warm and tender as he brushed the hair from his forehead. "You almost died doing it, but yes, she's perfectly alright."

"Good." He looped his fingers through Charles' and closed his eyes, and let himself be vulnerable for just a moment; letting himself ask for what he wanted - what he's always needed from the love of his life. "Stay with me?"

Charles smiled and brushed a kiss to his cheek. "Always."

Drop a ship (or threesome, poly, etc.) along with 2 to 4 elements in my askbox to request a mini fic!

#gerec writes #cherik #modern au #powered au #injury #hospital #memes #thanks for the prompt anon!

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hanasnx · 10 months

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Ok but hear me out- Hobie with his absolute pussy wrecking dick, and he refuses to do anything with it until you’re fucked out on his tongue first….

(and when he does you can’t say anything cos he’s pounding into you like a fucking animal)

“absolute pussy wrecking dick” audibly gulping rn gasping for air rn

the kind of dick that ripples you when he goes in over and over, every backshot reverberating up your spine, forcing you forward on your elbows and your cheek buried into the mattress. how it fills you out and kisses your cervix in such a sting, you’re fluid and limp as he uses you. his big hand on the back of your neck to keep you pinned to avoid being pushed further away from him with each thrust.

fingers tucked into the overlapping flesh of your thigh and hip, yanking you back into him until you’re yelling, howling into the covers, praying no one in this apartment building can hear you even though you know they can. you’ve got a feeling hobie likes that fact.

your brain has turned to mush, you can’t form a thought, can’t respond to his dirty talk. “knew a slag like you could take a dick like this. how’s it feel, dove? worth it? worth beggin’ for it?”

you’re near tears as he drives into you, moving to palm your tailbone to force you down onto every inch of his formidable cock. drooling onto the sheets, gripping onto them, eyelashes fluttering while your hole swallows him up.

hobie brown and his pussy wrecking dick..

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becca-e-barnes · 10 months

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all i can think about is bucky literally BEGGING to eat your pussy. just on his knees, calling himself a needy slut, just looking up at you with puppy dog eyes while he just begs for your pussy on his mouth. ugh.

Men who are this into eating pussy have a special place reserved for them in Heaven. Hearing someone beg to go down on you is life changing when they know what they're doing 🙈

But you're so right, Bucky would be so willing to degrade himself like that just to be allowed to go down on you. He'd be on his knees, trying to ignore how full his balls feel, begging for you.

"P-please." His voice is so quiet you almost start to question if he said it intentionally. "I need to taste you. I can't think about anything else."

His cock twitches despite how heavy it looks, flushed and angry against the pale skin of his thighs.

"Really?" You tease, tilting his chin up with two fingers so he's looking at your face, rather than your body. "Tell me exactly what you're thinking. Describe it to me"

He doesn't miss a beat. "I'm thinking about how soft you are, how warm and silky your cunt feels under my tongue. I'm thinking about burying my tongue as deep inside you as I can reach and still wishing I could get deeper. I want to feel how wet you are but more than anything, I want to taste how wet you are. I want to dream about it for the rest of the week. Every time I stroke my cock I want to be able to remember how you taste."

Precum drips from his tip and you're not sure you can deny him much longer. Not when he's making it sound so appealing.

"Do you even hear yourself?" You do your very best to act like you don't love the sound of every word that has just come out of his mouth.

"I do. I sound like a shameless, filthy, desperate slut. The type of slut who wants to kiss and lick and worship your sweet pussy until you're so sensitive you have to force me to stop." His hand wanders between his own legs, tugging his stiff length to the mere thought.

He's not above begging and you know that. He'll draw this out as long as he needs to until he gets his way but there's very little sense in that when you want this just as much as he does.

"Lie on the bed." You give him time to make his way over before following, lining yourself up just above his face.

You take a second to smooth his hair, enjoying the feeling of his freshly shaved face against the sensitive insides of your thighs.

He's looking up at you, your eyes meeting his. "Thank you." The relief in his voice is clear right before he grasps your hips and pulls you down onto his mouth.

Fuck, he's incredible. This is the mouth you dream about when you're alone. His tongue massages your clit, stroking back and forth before dipping into your fluttering entrance. You swear he must feel what he's doing to you. You feel your cunt clenching and rippling, your muscles contracting in response to the pleasure and for a second you wonder if he can tell.

He's hungry for this; he has been for hours. He's moaning and slurping obscenely, his tongue buried in your cunt. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to know that he's alternating between fucking his own fist and gripping the base of his shaft tight enough to stop him from spilling his release all over himself too soon.

It's very hard to tell which of you enjoys this more.

#asks answered <3 #becca writes spice #anon #needy!bucky #bucky barnes x reader smut #sub!bucky #bucky barnes smut #subby!bucky #this should technically belong to the shs series #but it fit this prompt too well so I'm using it here #I make the rules 😇#but that 'thank you' nearly killed me #I've noticed this week that my beige flag is that I get so frustrated when people make assumptions about my capacity #I hate when people say stuff like 'how's the new job? you must be really stressed'#or worse 'things must be getting on top of you'#like ???#why would you assume I can't handle what I put on my own plate?#I know people mean well but it really bothers me

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rafesmuse · 2 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/rafesmuse/743661178308427776/rafe-cameron-the-type-of-boyfriend-to-keep-your?source=share

this!!! but you’re Sarah’s best friend. Rafe being a dick constantly finds a way to flash your nudes in front of her. One day she asks when you got that tattoo because she’s never seen it before. You think no one but rafe should be able to see that tattoo, when the realisation hits you turn bright red and you definitely shout at him about it later that night but he’s too busy trying to undress you to listen

link!

omg pls he’s such a fucking dickhead sdjdkdkd like that man does not give a fuck! he’d be with sarah in the house when he ‘accidentally’ drops his wallet with your nudes inside of it and acts like he doesn’t notice so she picks it up for him. “rafe you dropped your wa- what the fuck is this?” “oh whoops, im just so clumsy, aren’t i?” he’d reply sarcastically with a smug smile on his face as he snatches the wallet from sarah’s hand.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo” sarah would later bluntly say when you’re hanging out together, completely catching you off guard. “what? i- i mean, i do, but how do you kn-“ your eyes instantly widen when the realisation eventually hits.

so later that night, you storm into rafe’s room, shouting, while he just lazily sits on his bed, scrolling on his phone. “RAFE CAMERON, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD. why the FUCK did sarah see those pictures?!” “jesus, relax baby, it was just an accident, a’ight?” he snaps back as you now sit next to him on the bed, still glaring at him with an infuriated expression. “rafe! those are meant for your eyes only!” he’s too busy now attentively pulling the traps of your top down, not even paying attention to what you’re saying anymore. “yeah yeah, i’ll be more careful next time, got it. now, c’mere and let me make it up to you.”

#♡ — love letters.#♡ — anon ¡! ❞#thank you for sending me stuff makes me so happy <3 #nsfw.daydreams #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron concepts

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ansonmountdaily · 9 months

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Captain Christopher Pike's outfits in STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS → Season 1 - 2 (requested by anonymous)

(Young Lieutenant Pike in the field jacket and red operations uniform is from a 1x06 "Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach" deleted scene on the Season 1 dvd. It's a little flashback scene with Pike in a shuttle. It ends with him beaming back to USS Aryabhatta, the ship he served on at the time with Number One/Una.)

Star Trek: Discovery outfits here.

#star trek strange new worlds #strange new worlds #star trek #captain pike #christopher pike #anson mount #tvedit #trekedit #cinematv #strangenewworldsedit #*edit #thank you anon for the prompt #i've been hoping to make these! :)#our captain loves his aprons and zip tees #sorry for the poor quality of the deleted scene #the original colors are super dark on the dvd #i had to tweak them a lot #young pike was just as charming as he is now :)#i adore the 'wrath of khan' admiral uniform <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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desertduality · 3 months

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gigs phasmo but the ghost is just confused mumbo jumbo

physically unable to write a snippet so here's a whole oneshot AKJSDKJ I hope you like it!! Personally I had a ton of fun lmao

-------

The house was nice, as far as haunted locations went. The flowers out front were dead, sure, but that was probably on account of their caretaker being dead as well.

The neighbors had been the ones to call this address in, claiming that although the owner of the property had died quite some months ago, lights frequently turned on and off in the house. The police had been by several times to check for intruders, and had come up empty every time. Finally, some desperate neighbor had given in and called paranormal investigators.

So there they were, Impulse pulling up on the curb just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Prime ghost hunting time, for some reason; Scar hadn’t really paid attention to the science and research when he’d signed up for the job. Besides, the other three had all that handled quite nicely. Scar was just along for the ride.

“Scar, you know what you’re doing?” Impulse asked, grabbing a flashlight off the wall and clipping his walkie onto his belt.

“Sir, yes sir!” Scar quipped, scanning the gear for his usual fare. “One paraba-dolical microphone coming up.”

“Grab a thermometer, too,” Impulse suggested, clapping him on the shoulder on his way out of the van. “Let’s try to keep this one clean! The company is running low on cursed items with resurrection abilities.”

“I know for a fact we’ve made the biggest dent in that,” Skizz’s voice crackled out of the walkie, changing to a slight echo as he presumably walked in the house.

“Why do you sound proud of that?” Grian asked, speaking into the radio as he grabbed a salt canister. Scar snickered, reaching over him to grab the thermometer.

“We’ve got a record going, man! No one can stop us!”

“You have to admire his positivity,” Scar said brightly, clicking his flashlight to make sure it worked.

“Yeah, I guess he’s got that going for him,” Grian replied, giving a short wave as he left the van. “See you on the inside, Scar.”

Scar gave a jaunty wave, doing one last check on his equipment before starting after him. A voice cut him off before he could leave.

“Did anyone check the name?” Impulse asked, and Scar turned around to squint at the corkboard, eyes catching on the top.

Huh. Interesting.

Scar clicked the talk button on his walkie. “Looks like… Mumbo Jumbo?”

There was a long pause, and Scar almost thought they had missed it somehow. Then the response came.

“Scar,” Grian said, sounding tiredly amused. “If you can’t pronounce it, don’t just make something up.”

“No, It— It literally says Mumbo Jumbo,” Scar replied, glancing up to double check. “Don’t make me waste a photo to prove it. I will, you know I will.”

“Don’t, Scar,” Impulse jumped in, so quickly that the start of his sentence cut out. “We believe you.”

“Get in here before I come and drag you, Face,” Skizz chimed in, and Scar rolled his eyes with a chuckle, stepping out of the van.

The house was warmer than the air outside, so Scar took that as a sign that someone had gotten to the fuse box. He wandered around with the paradabolic microphone for a few minutes, watching closely for big leaps in the readings. Eventually, Impulse called out from upstairs, claiming that he’d found the room. Scar hurried towards him, making it there just in time to watch him set up the video camera, fiddling with the tripod and muttering complaints about its stability.

The room was a bedroom, a large bed against one wall and a shelf full of dead plants on the other. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust, but that was pretty usual. Obviously no one had been keeping up with the cleaning.

“Anyone done spirit box?” Grian asked, and Scar jumped and whirled around, finding him in the doorway. Grian giggled, and Scar huffed.

“Not yet,” Impulse said, finally getting the tripod to settle. He looked over at them. “Want us to leave?”

“Not really,” Grian grumbled, starting to power up the spirit box. “But yes.”

Scar walked out of the door and Impulse followed him, closing it and leaving Grian in the room alone. Immediately, they heard the telltale singing introduction of Grian beginning to ask questions. The rest of the house was quiet. So far, everything had been entirely unremarkable.

“I’m going to go grab D.O.T.S and a book,” Impulse spoke suddenly, starting to walk away. “Maybe you could start grabbing some stuff for a polty pile?”

“Sure, will do,” Scar said, and started picking up objects from the table in the hallway. A lot of picture frames and spare wires, for whatever reason.

Grian opened the door to the room just as Scar arrived with his arms full, and Scar tilted his head at the odd look on the other’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was wearing a faint frown.

“What’s wrong?” Scar asked, curious. Normally, Grian came out of a spirit box session with wide eyes and immediately ran to the van. This was out of character.

“I think…” Grian started, contemplative frown getting more pronounced. “I think the ghost apologized to me.”

“...huh?”

“I asked where it was,” Grian said, spirit box slack in his hand. “And then it said something, and then I screamed, and then it— I could have sworn it said sorry. Like, for scaring me.”

“Oh,” Scar said, tilting his head. “Has that happened before?”

Grian shook his head slowly, staring at the spirit box for a minute before exhaling forcefully. “Let’s just keep going,” he said, shoving the device in his pocket. “We still have a job to do.” Then, into his walkie: “We’ve got spirit box, guys. One thing down.”

They kept doing their jobs like they normally would, but none of them could quite shake the sense of something being different.

Usually, the haunted locations they visited had a foreboding sort of feeling to them. They get in and out of those places as soon as possible, the feeling of imminent danger settling on their shoulders like a heavy jacket. There was none of that, here. It was obviously haunted, but it still just felt like... a house. It didn’t feel malicious at all.

Impulse put a book down, and writing appeared a few minutes later. Just a single sentence, asking if they would water the plants on their way out.

They laid down D.O.T.S and stayed out in the van for a while, eventually seeing a tall, hazy figure pass quickly through.

They caught ghost orbs on the video surveillance.

Impulse took the Ultraviolet flashlight and found fingerprints on the side of the video camera, like the ghost had been curious about it.

The salt Grian had placed on the ground was smeared and scattered, almost as if the ghost had slipped on it instead of stepped in it.

“If we discovered some new type of ghost,” Grian said eventually, muffled through his own hands covering his face, after hours of pouring over the conflicting evidence. “I am going to be upset.”

“None of this makes sense!” Impulse complained, flipping through the research journal that Scar had never touched. He was scowling at the pages like they’d personally offended him. “It won’t even hunt!”

“He seems kinda friendly,” Scar said, staring at the steady line of the EMF reader on the screen. “The poor guy just wants his plants watered. I don’t even have the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn’t help. Those things are dead dead.”

Impulse’s head thunked down on the table in front of him. “We’re so fired.”

In the silence following that statement, Skizz burst into the van, holding an object aloft in celebration.

“I found it!” Skizz yelled triumphantly, the wrinkly figure of the monkey paw clutched in his hand. “It fell behind some boxes. I told you it was here.”

“Oooh,” Scar said, rushing over in excitement. “What should we wish for?”

“A quick death?” Grian said flatly.

Scar waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve had too many of those. It gets kind of boring, believe it or not.”

“Let’s just wish to see it,” Impulse said, heaving himself up from his hunched position by the monitor. “We’ve done everything else we could do, let’s just do it.”

“Sure, why not,” Grian said, shrugging. “Let’s go out in a blaze of glory, then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Skizz laughed, and together the four of them marched back into the house.

The room was exactly as they’d left it, and Impulse took a moment to turn off the D.O.T.S. Then they stood in a loose circle, tense and determined. Whatever was happening here, it would be over soon. One way or the other. Maybe the company wouldn’t even bother to bring them back, this time.

Skizz held the monkey paw aloft, dim light casting dramatic shadows on his face. “I wish to see the ghost!”

A finger on the monkey paw cracked and groaned as it bent down, and a chill swept across the room, quick and encompassing. Their flashlights flickered, and then died, leaving them in complete darkness. For a long moment, the only sound was their chorus of quick and shaky breathing.

When the lights turned back on, Scar was face to face with a ghost. A ghost that looked equally as startled as he was.

Scar yelped and stumbled backwards, tripping over the open book on the ground and hurtling towards the bed. The ghost — a tall man with dark hair and an absolutely wonderful mustache — lunged forward and reached out as if to catch him, eyes wide and panicked. To be fair to the dead man, it absolutely would have worked if his hands were still a tangible thing; As it were, his attempt at grabbing Scar to keep him upright was rather rudely foiled by his outstretched hand passing right through Scar’s flailing arm.

Scar hit the bed with a grunt as various cries of alarm sounded out around him, light bouncing around the room haphazardly as the sound of clattering reached his ears; someone had dropped their flashlight, apparently. Scar laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, dazed.

“Oh gosh! I’m so— I didn’t mean to pop in like that, I—”

Scar looked up just in time to watch a crucifix fly through the air and pass harmlessly through the ghost’s head, hitting the wall with a thud and falling gracelessly to the floor. The ghost yelped and ducked — much too late, not that it mattered, anyway — and Scar’s gaze next landed on Grian, still standing there with his arm extended in a throwing motion, hand empty and eyes wide.

“What was that gonna do, G?!” Skizz asked hysterically, fumbling for his camera, accidentally snapping a picture of his own face and swearing when the light blinded him.

Impulse had knocked over the tripod in all of the chaos, and was now frantically attempting to set it back upright. The ghost — Mumbo Jumbo — turned his anxious eyes on Scar, who for once was struck speechless, jaw slack.

“Are you alright, mate?” Mumbo Jumbo asked, hands fidgeting together. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but— Well, you summoned me. There’s only so much to be done for that.”

With everyone else still scrambling about the room, Scar allowed himself a few seconds to process things. Most ghosts they’d come across — all of them, actually — had been nothing less than murderous and bloodthirsty. The cordial ghost of a perfectly normal man was not something they had been trained for, but that didn’t exactly mean that it was impossible. Sure, maybe it had come way, way out of left field, but Scar prided himself on rolling with the punches. He pushed himself up from the bed with a sheepish, charming smile.

“It’s all good,” Scar said, bright and friendly. “For sure our fault, we summoned you and got surprised when you showed up. Kind of rude of us, I think. Your mattress is super comfortable, by the way.”

Mumbo Jumbo blinked, as if surprised by the onslaught of words, a confused little furrow appearing between his brows. “Thank you?” he said, glancing behind him at the bed. “It was…expensive.”

“I mean, hey! We spend a lot of our lifetime in a bed, right? Might as well shell out some cash for quality.”

“What are we doing?” Grian asked quickly, almost like he was talking to himself, hands pressed to his head in utter bafflement. “This is insane, what is happening.”

“Grian! Don’t be rude,” Scar admonished playfully, then turned back to grin at the ghost. “Mumbo Jumbo, right?”

The man nodded faintly. “Just…Mumbo is fine.”

“Sweet! I’m Scar,” Scar said, and then started pointing to his friends, all standing stock still in various stages of shock and confusion. “The rude one who throws stuff is Grian, that’s Impulse by the window, and over there is Skizz!”

“Nice to meet you?” Mumbo said, glancing around nervously. “I would offer to shake your hand, but…”

“God, this is weird,” Skizz blurted, eyes still wide but starting to relax his stance. “You do know you’re dead, right? We never actually get to ask any of the ghosts we meet.”

“Oh, I— Yeah, I’m well aware,” Mumbo said, laughing a little. “You’ve met other ghosts, then?”

“We’re ghost hunters,” Impulse said, and now that the shock was fading, Scar could see a spark of excitement in his eyes. “But I mean— We’ve never met any like you.”

“Mostly they want to kill us,” Grian said, stepping up next to Scar. “Are you sure you don’t want to kill us?”

“I don’t think I know how, much less want to,” Mumbo said, glancing out the window. “Did someone call you to find me? I’ve been trying not to scare anyone, but I suppose the lights might’ve done me in.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much what tipped them off,” Scar said apologetically. “A few too many weird things happen and boom, here we are.”

“What happens now?” Mumbo asked, chuckling nervously. “I mean, you found me. Job done, yeah?”

“Usually we figure out what type of ghost it is and the company sends out a specialized team to evict it,” Impulse answered, brow pinched in thought. “But normally that’s for safety reasons. You don’t seem like a threat. No offense.”

“Oh, none taken.”

“Can I ask how you died?” Skizz asked, eyes alight with curiosity.

“Skizz,” Grian hissed. “You can’t just ask people how they died!”

“I was just wondering!”

“No, it’s— it’s fine,” Mumbo stuttered, and Scar had a feeling that if ghosts could blush, he would be doing it. “I… fell down the stairs.”

Scar nodded solemnly. “Could have happened to anyone.”

“So what are we actually going to do about this?” Grian asked, vaguely gesturing at the room. “It feels like it would be wrong to kick this guy out of his own house. He’s not really causing trouble.”

“Yeah, I— I do like my house,” Mumbo interjected, awkward smile on his face. “I’d rather stay, if that’s alright.”

“Someone’s bound to move in eventually, you know,” Skizz said, pitying frown on his face. “There’s already a for sale sign in the yard. The new owners might not be super ghost-friendly.”

Mumbo’s shoulders slumped, a dejected look on his face as he frowned at the floor. Scar felt a pang of sympathy grow in his chest, and he glanced out the window at the rows of houses down the street.

It really was quite a nice neighborhood.

“...You know,” Scar started, gaze drifting over to Grian, a slow smile forming on his face. “Our lease is almost up.”

Grian looked over at him, eyes already resigned, and sighed.

Scar laughed, grinning, and Mumbo slowly smiled back.

#this let me practice my ability to write silly fun things AKSJDKJ it was a blast actually :]#thank you for the prompt anon!! I hope i brought your vision to life aksjdk #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #skizzleman #impulsesv #mumbo jumbo #my writing #writing request #now that this is finished i am going to go to bed <33 #might post this on ao3 later but rn i'm tired <3

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