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ogdoadfates · 1 year

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Fanfic Prompts: Bittersweet

For both romantic and platonic ships! Bittersweet is one of my fav categories~

“We aren’t blood related but you’re the most important family member of mine, you know that right?”

“Can you stay with me just a little longer?”

“I’m doomed to be lonely for the majority of my life, but I’m glad we’ve made the memories we have”

“It’s going to be a long road but I’m content.”

“How about one last adventure?”

“I know we didn’t talk much but either way I just want you to know, you were a big part of my life and I’m thankful for every second we got to spend together.”

“Can you stay up with me?”

“Can you just please listen to me! Just this once. Please.”

“We won’t grow old together will we?” “No, but we made memories that’ll outlive even us.”

“You’re only a memory to me now, but you’re my most cherished memory.”

Bringing the other out to watch the stars on a sad anniversary

Helping the other stop people pleasing because it’s destroying them.

Happy hangout/date that turns sour due to one of them having a medical emergency.

Staying up late to finally see the other who’s been over workings and falling asleep before they come home, they only getting home way later then expected and just seeing the other asleep with food wrapped up waiting for them.

Watching the other try to power through a event but their slowly cracking under the pressure, being unable to help them till after.

“Some day the world will forget us, yet I find myself oddly content.”

Helping the other through a bad day but it’s slowly breaking you down as well till they notice.

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seaside-writings · 8 months

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Prompt #1,142

"What do you see when you look at me?"

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linwritesif · 2 years

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could u make another a list of prompts? i really love it!

yeah, sure thing <3

so, this is a

List of Prompts 2

part 2 to this list

HIT THEM WHERE IT HURTS. for those who enjoy a little pain.

Enemies to Lovers

Assassin prompt starters

Lifespan Angst Prompts

Angst

Death/dying

Goodbye to the dying

Whumpy prompts

Breaking your character

Broken trust

Heated argument starters

Angsty lyrics prompts

Betrayal

SOFT AS A FEATHER. for those who prefer the gentle approach.

For a lover's reassurance

Domestic fluff prompts

Friends to lovers

Fluff

Idiots in love

Domestic intimacy

Different ways to say 'I love you'

Cuddling prompts

SPICY. for those who like things to be a little hotter.

Smut dialogue prompts

More smut dialogue prompts

Smut prompts

Smutty meme prompts

SUGAR AND LEMON. for the bittersweet experience.

Jealousy

Broken relationship

Enemies to lovers

Love confession starters

Betrayed over a forbidden relationship

Bandaging a friend's wound

Hero x Villain

Sparring/Training

#list of prompts #prompts #fluff prompts #angst prompts #smut prompts #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #for safe keeping #bittersweet prompts #hurt/comfort prompts

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neteyamyawne · 1 year

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-‘๑’- Prompts for Requesting

༊*·˚ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ :

•*⁀➷ You're not unlovable, love

•*⁀➷ Romantic confession

•*⁀➷ Comfort prompts

•*⁀➷ Different ways to say 'I love you'

•*⁀➷ Simple actions

•*⁀➷ Thunderstorms

•*⁀➷ 'idiots in love' prompts

•*⁀➷ Comforting sentences

•*⁀➷ Domastic intimacy

•*⁀➷ Soft and Sweet sentences

•*⁀➷ Pregnancy and baby prompts

༊*·˚ ꜱᴍᴜᴛᴛ :

•*⁀➷ Sexual tension

•*⁀➷ Smut Prompts

•*⁀➷ Soft dirty talk

•*⁀➷ Building the tension

•*⁀➷ BDSM/DOM-SUB prompts

•*⁀➷ Spicy Actions

•*⁀➷ Nonverbal Sexual Sentences

•*⁀➷ Words sexual prompts

•*⁀➷ Subtle smutt sentences

•*⁀➷ Inexperienced

༊*·˚ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ :

•*⁀➷ Intense Vibes

•*⁀➷ Protective prompts

•*⁀➷ Cheating and being caught

•*⁀➷ pre-war/pre-battle

•*⁀➷ Forbidden love

•*⁀➷ Enemies to Lovers

•*⁀➷ Touch starved

•*⁀➷ Hit 'em where it hurts

•*⁀➷ High pain tolerance

•*⁀➷ Dark and Angsty

•*⁀➷ "We're just too different"

༊*·˚ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ :

•*⁀➷ Reassurance

•*⁀➷ Hurt-comfort dialogues

•*⁀➷ Lovers in denial

•*⁀➷ Hurt/Comfort prompts

•*⁀➷ Yearning

•*⁀➷ Found Family

•*⁀➷ Heavy hearted

•*⁀➷ Enemies to Lovers,lovers to Enemies & Everything in between

•*⁀➷ Jealousy prompts

•*⁀➷ Reunion after trauma

•*⁀➷ Hurt comfort dialogues and prompts

༊*·˚ ᴀʟʟ ɪɴᴄʟᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ :

•*⁀➷ Prompts of all prompts

•*⁀➷ Fluff, smut & angst

•*⁀➷ Prompts & Ideas

༊*·˚ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ :

•*⁀➷ Bank 1

•*⁀➷ Bank 2

•*⁀➷ Bank 3

•*⁀➷ Bank 4

•*⁀➷ Bank 5

𝐀/𝐧 : (please read this 👏🏼)

Prompt requesting ;

Please while requesting a prompt, mention the genre, list name, number of the prompts (if there are bullet points, count them and then tell me)

Question ;

Ask as many as you want but specify which question bank (1,2,3,4,5) and the question numbers (if bullet points, mention the count of the question)

Let me know if any link is repeated☺️

None of these are mine, all credit goes to the creators, i just wanted to include these for easier requesting 😉

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chococrystal · 8 months

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Made for @ammo0648 's DTIYS !! Congrats !!

#ammo600dtiys #ninjago #lego ninjago #urghh i hope i did ur dtiys justice aaghh #cole ninjago #cole brookstone #shroomart #ur prompt made me feel so many emotions and i thought cole would also be going through a surge of emotions raarr #Also i interpreted this as the moment either he lands into the afterlife and sees lily OR the moment right before he gets sent back #I HOPE THATS OKAY AAAA #like a bittersweet smile thing #bc either moment he still just wants to stay with her and stay dead like #THE ANGST MAN #ALSO i didn't even realize i didn't follow u here on tumblr !! even tho i follow u everywhere else raaaa #fixed that hehe #congrats again !!

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theinsomniacindian · 4 months

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I will never get tired of the "If they're going to die, it's going to be by my hand" dynamic

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difeisheng · 15 days

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Fang Duobing wakes up with the dawn on the five thousandth morning since his life fractured, then restarted, and there is silver in Di Feisheng's hair.

"Go back to sleep," he feels Di Feisheng rumble, where Fang Duobing's chest is pressed to his back. His hand doesn't pause, continuing to feel through the long river of Di Feisheng's hair. He can't help it, that it's still striking even after these years since the first hint of grey appeared. Early light glows through the window, glinting off the streak woven in through the dark strands. Vein of precious metal set in stone.

Di Feisheng has survived four decades of defiant existence in this world, and now he wears something proud to show for it.

"You're getting old," Fang Duobing says, and smiles into the back of Di Feisheng's neck. "What happened to rising with the sun to train every morning?"

"You and your sleeping in happened, you spoiled brat." The words are softened by the fact that Di Feisheng doesn't counter the hand Fang Duobing moves from his hair to his waist, only letting out a deep sigh. "And now you won't even let me do that."

"It's called having variation. Keeps you sharp."

"Keeps me tired."

"You'll start getting slow next if you settle into your ways like this, lao-lang."

"If you insist on calling me old, then you should have some respect for your elders," Di Feisheng declares, and now Fang Duobing can hear the glare in his voice. "Be quiet."

Fang Duobing has cheerfully never listened to this particular request, and isn't about to start now. "I show my respect for you nearly every day. Maybe you'd even call it appreciation." He lets his hand on Di Feisheng's waist drift lower, under the blanket thrown over both of them. "I could demonstrate again though, if you'd like?"

This time Di Feisheng catches him, gently dragging his hand away before Fang Duobing can reach for his trousers. "Later," he says, and the words are low enough to be a growl. "Go. Back. To. Sleep."

"Fine." Fang Duobing replaces his hand, arm reaching over Di Feisheng's torso instead. Di Feisheng's own hand stays curled overtop his, stilling as Fang Duobing settles down again behind him, sword calluses rough against his knuckles. "But I'll hold you to it."

It's impulse that causes Fang Duobing to brush at Di Feisheng's hair one last time, sweeping the silver aside to touch his lips to his neck.

Di Feisheng is, seemingly, by the fall of his breath and the curve of his body into Fang Duobing's, already asleep once more.

#yes i do mean the nickname as in 老狼 #also hi. the prompt i gave myself for this was just 'write difang happy'#and get myself out of my usual angst/bittersweet territory #so here we are #mysterious lotus casebook #difang #di feisheng #fang duobing #ashton writes fic #fic

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marblerose-rue · 2 years

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click for better quality!!

wctober day five - dreaming

mr sandman, bring me a dream

#my art #do not copy trace or steal #leafpool #wctober #wc art #waca #warriors #warrior cats #LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO #the bugs r moth-ish i only skimmed my references for that BUT i think it works bc who dreams in 1080pAJKNFDHGBDFGH #im gonna be real idk what i wanna do for todays prompt i might sit on it + eat and then figure something out #tiny+littermates.? so its like a bittersweet thing? idk i also have scourge on the brain #TODAY WAS THE LONGEST SHORTEST DAY it was a neutral day . just long #my weekend also technically starts today so teehee

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ogdoadfates · 1 year

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Fanfic Prompts: Bittersweet #2

More! Hope y’all have fun with these~

“No matter how much time passes, I’m still just a scared little kid aren’t I?” “I think....I think, we all are to be honest.”

“It’s kind of sad leaving this place isn’t it?”

“So, whats your favorite flower!” “....[name]” “Yeah, I know....I know.” “It’s going to be okay.”

“You’re my happy place.”

“You deserve help, you deserve happiness.”

“You’re worth it....Gods you’re more then worth it.”

“You’re my best friend, you’re my heart.”

“I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

Making the other a heartfelt gift after a bad event.

Tracing new scars while helping the other change clothes.

Temporarily running away from their responsibilities together to do something fun

Giving silent comfort to the other

Using a skill that someone they lost taught them

finally letting themselves break down in front of others

“You’ve got to go home.” “You are my home.”

“The stars don’t shine as bright as they did when you were here.”

“You’ve drowned me in affection and I don’t think I can ever fully go back.”

“I’ll never get over them but weirdly that makes me content, almost happy even.”

Cooking the other a meal to cheer them up

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seaside-writings · 5 months

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Prompt #1,189

"Just make sure this is what you want, what you truly want,"

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nelkcats · 1 year

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Box Bat

Fear him!

Batman is Box Ghost, the only reason he's obsessed with boxes is because he died in a warehouse explosion, and it's the last thing he remembers next to glimpses of his children.

He was undercover as a box deliverer to investigate the arms shipments that were arriving in Gotham, when he woke up in those clothes (the same ones he died in), and with no memories, he assumed that had been his job and committed to the bit.

Danny as a blue-eyed black-haired kid brings forth some feelings but he uses his perfect repression skills to ignore those feelings and commit harder on "Box"

The "fear me" is a mockery that he unconsciously makes to the Joker, even if he doesn't remember him.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #He is a Ghost #Fear him #you can take any rute you want here #there is a lot of options #Like Box Ghost adopting Danny #or the Batfam reuning with him at the end #this is a little bittersweet #But it can have a happy ending #or not #who knows #not me #Maybe his body changed shape when he died #and since he doesn't remember his actual body he stayed like that

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serene-cinders · 14 days

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A Caretaker adopting a pet Whumpee from a shelter out of pity. Whumpee’s been abused. Maybe they can’t, or won’t speak, so their pain is a mystery, but it shows in their empty eyes, maimed form, scars running criss-cross all over.

Maybe Whumpee’s on the older side. Maybe they’re not conventionally attractive. They’ve been abandoned by the world, they’ve been at the shelter for years, and they’re slowly succumbing. Dying.

Caretaker never agreed with this ‘human pet’ business. They find it despicable, and wouldn’t support it. But… that wretched husk, so rigorously broken down, brings tears to their eyes. And they can’t bare the thought of somebody dying alone in this unfeeling, underfunded shit hole.

So, Caretaker makes the choice to give them the kindest few weeks of their life.

#whump #whump community #whump drabble #whump prompt #tender whump #recovery whump #kind of #fluff #angst #implied whump #no gore #I cooked this one up in 7 minutes #does it show #pet whump #past pet whump #bbu adjacent #not the biggest fan of the bbu though #bittersweet

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ezdotjpg · 8 months

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Supply Run

Hello here's a fic I wrote about Loft taking a trip back to Skyloft, pre the plot of bonus links. 1381 words!

Link’s favorite errand, head and shoulders above the competition, is making the trek up to Skyloft for a supply refresh. It’s why Zelda continues to ask him to do it, despite the fact that he always takes roughly 6 hours longer than he’s strictly meant to, and forgets at least one item on the list more than half the time. He should remind her, for the millionth time, that he loves her very much.

“Thanks again, Luv!” he calls behind him as he makes to leave her stall, satchel full of all the necessary elixir ingredients they’ve been running low on. He double checked the list this time. Triple checked it, even.

“Fly safe, now!” Luv shouts back, and even with his back turned he can imagine her shaking her comically large ladle after him. “I see you out there pulling stunts, you’ll give us all a heart attack one day!”

Link thinks he flies perfectly safe, thank you very much, but he promises to be very careful, and makes his escape from the Bazaar. Sunshine warming his face against the chill, he continues down the ramp, over the bridge, and into the residential quarter of the island. Few of the island’s older adults have agreed to make the move down to the surface yet, so while the area’s quiet, there’s still life in the buildings. He makes his rounds, popping in to each home to say hello and listen to the latest news, often several times over.

“You’re looking thin again,” Henya frets, giving him a once over with a shrewd eye. “Are you sure you kids are growing enough food down there?”

He assures her that this year’s harvest was the best one yet, but she sends him off with several flasks of soup anyway, enough that he has to wedge them haphazardly in the satchel to make it all fit.

“You look tired,” Batreaux tells him. He’d been overjoyed by the somewhat wonkily carved Keese Link had made to dress up the windowsill of his new home on Skyloft proper. Now, his brow is furrowed as he putters through his kitchen cabinets. “I’ve got a tea that might help, where in the world did it run off to?”

The packet of tea takes the Keese figure’s place in Link’s pocket, and as the door closes behind him, he tries to remember how many minutes Batreaux told him to steep it for. He never gets it quite right.

With all his visits finished, he lingers in the village square, pointedly not looking at the docks. He walks back to the neighborhood and checks on the island’s pumpkin crop, which looks fine. He catches a few sky stag beetles, and then lets most of them go. He sits by the waterfall and munches on a stamina fruit, kicking his legs over the side and getting his boots all wet.

He’s half finished formulating a plan to break into his old academy room for no reason in particular before he finally, painfully decides that actually, it’s probably better to return home. Before the sun sets, and Crimson won’t fly anymore, and he’s forced to spend the night. Again. What a tragedy that would be.

Back at the docks, he makes sure the satchel is buckled securely, briefly laments the ache in his knees, and takes off at run. At the last second, he twists his body around, launching off the edge with his arms out and his back to the land below.

Link closes his eyes against the glare of the sun, and lets himself enjoy the freefall. His stomach swoops, his body weightless. Crisp air fills his lungs, the same air that tugs at his clothes and tickles his face with his hair. Falling on the surface is never quite this peaceful. Over the course of his quest, he learned what it meant to truly hit the ground, to feel flesh bruise and bones crunch. He made enough wrong footed steps, took tumbles off edges so high he thought they’d be the end of him, scrambling for the sailcloth.

Down below, there’s no failsafe, no guarantee that someone will catch you. The ground rushes up to meet you so fast. But here in the sky, he knows no one will ever let him fall too far.

Speaking of, the couple of knights that still circle the island are probably getting antsy by now. He gives himself two more counts, taking them slow in his head, before bringing his fingers to his mouth. He whistles one sharp, clear note, and flips himself over into the proper position. It’s only a few seconds more before a familiar call answers.

He grabs onto Crimson’s harness easily, though the rapid change in speed as she pulls up sends a painful zap up his bad arm. Crimson clicks her beak in apology, like she knows. He pets the soft fur of her back to soothe her. It’s his own fault, really.

It’s getting late. Batraeux was right about one thing: he is tired. He really shouldn’t do much besides simply flying home.

But he sees Crimson so rarely these days, and her joy is a warm flare in the back of his mind. They circle around the islands scattered around Skyloft, making twirls and loops until he’s breathless from a combination of laughter and exertion, and the sun is beginning to hang dangerously low. Crimson begins her reluctant descent.

As she hovers high above his front yard, Link gives her a hug around her neck, careful not to squeeze too hard.

“Thank you,” he says. “See you next time.”

The jolt that runs through him as the sailcloth catches his weight certainly doesn’t help his arm, and he grits his teeth against it. Like always, Crimson stays in sight until his feet touch the ground. He stays rooted to the spot as well, waving after her until her form disappears over the treetops.

It’s like a spell has broken. He lets his left hand drop, and all of a sudden, his limbs feel so heavy. It’s possible he’s overdone it a little. Every muscle in his body has a complaint it would very much like to lodge. The altitude change sticks in his lungs, makes the air feel thick enough he almost wants to cough. But he’d still call it the good kind of exhausted, the satisfied kind. With any luck, he’ll sleep so well tonight he won’t even dream. Dead on his feet, he shuffles his way onto the porch and inside the house.

He kicks his boots off by the door, dropping the satchel as gently as he can manage it. Zelda looks up from where she’d been writing in a notebook on the couch, eyes crinkling as soon as she spots him. The house is full of warm, spiced smells and sizzling sounds, which implies that Groose is busy making dinner in the kitchen. If Link listens close, he can almost hear Groose humming.

“Welcome home, love,” Zelda says, setting her notebook aside. She doesn’t comment on his lateness, her smile knowing. He thinks, maybe, that it looks a little sad, too. That he misses it so much, that he lingers so long every time he gets the chance. Everyone on the surface misses Skyloft, but it’s different for him, isn’t it? It’s different. He can’t hide anything from her.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he makes a beeline over to the couch with the last of his energy, and flops over to join her. His head lands in her lap, and he can feel her body shake as she laughs at him.

“That good, huh?” she teases. He makes a vaguely affirmative noise, curling up comfortably as her hand comes to rest on his head. He feels every ache and pain acutely now that he’s no longer standing, but it’s easy to ignore with Zelda’s fingers combing through his hair.

“Did you get everything on the list?”

“Mhm.”

“Double checked?”

“Mhm.”

“Hey, was that Link just now?” That one is Groose’s voice. It sounds closer when he speaks next, like he’s poked his head around the corner. “Babe, no sleeping yet! Dinner’s gonna be ready soon!”

“Don’t worry,” Zelda says. He’s already failing at Groose’s request. “I’ll wake you.”

#ficdotjpg #bonus loft #bonus links #bonuslinks #bonuslinksdotjpg #technically this is for the discord prompt but it turned out a little bittersweet lol #bonus groose #bonus skord zelda #not very well proofread forgive me for typos

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gregorovitch-adler · 8 months

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Romance

After Holmes had arrested Jefferson Hope, and I had had a discussion with him that I was going to publish the story in The Strand - to let everyone know who had really solved the case - Holmes had agreed.

A better explanation would be that Holmes did not care. It did not matter to him who received the credit for solving the case in the newspapers. However, it did matter to me. Very much, in fact.

In what world was it fair for the police officers at Scotland Yard to take help from Holmes to solve the case every step of the way and not even thank him publicly? It simply could not happen. Not on my watch.

After having published the story, I decided to show it to Holmes. I was quite enthusiastic about it.

However, I had not expected Holmes to react so badly.

When I brought up the conversation, whilst he was consuming his damn cocaine - with his long and thin legs stretched out on the coffee table - he shook his head ruefully.

“I glanced over it,” said he. “Honestly, I cannot congratulate you upon it. Detection is, or ought to be, an exact science, and should be treated in the same cold and unemotional manner. You have attempted to tinge it with romanticism, which produces much the same effect as if you worked a love story or an elopement into the fifth proposition of Euclid.”

“But the romance was there,” I remonstrated. “I could not tamper with the facts."

I had feared that this conversation might be going in a dangerous direction. Holmes was not insinuating the obviousness of my feelings for him - that had developed over time - was he?

Well, if he decided to spell it out, I would not hesitate to remind him about how much he had blushed after listening to my compliments about his detective work.

I could not say anything for sure, but as time passed, I had a feeling that there was something between us. A connection, of sorts. One that went beyond what a couple of flatmates usually had.

Holmes may have a habit of pretending that he preferred to be unemotional, but I was his closest friend. I lived with him. I might not be as brilliant as he was, but I could tell that he did not mean it.

"Some facts should be suppressed, or at least a just sense of proportion should be observed in treating them. The only point in the case which deserved mention was the curious analytical reasoning from effects to causes by which I succeeded in unraveling it.”

I was annoyed at this criticism of a work that had been specially designed to please him. Moreover, I was hurt to know that he would deviate this much from the truth.

Maybe I had miscalculated. Probably it was only I who felt the connection between us. Not him. I frowned at the thought and swallowed as I stopped pacing and took a seat on my armchair across from Holmes in the sitting room.

I was willing to speak up this time, though.

I inhaled deeply and held my breath as I spoke. "And why, pray tell, do you want to suppress the facts, specifically about romance? Is it because the same facts hit too close to home?"

Holmes came out of his dazed state, dropped his legs on the floor, and sat up straight with his grey eyes widened.

"What are you getting at, Watson?" asked Holmes cautiously.

"We have not been friends for that long, but for what little time I have known you, I've developed a profound respect for you and your work. There is more to it, however. I have grown to have feelings for you. Romantic feelings, in particular."

Holmes leaned forward in his chair and pinned me with an intense gaze. Fortunately, he did not try to interrupt me.

"I think that you have, too. Although I could be extremely wrong on that part, it makes little sense for you, of all people, to want to suppress the facts and events that happened for real. So, I want to know: Am I right about the real reason or not? I would certainly understand if I am completely off the mark and you do not feel the same, but I need to know."

I breathed deeply after having blurted all that out, hoping to dear Lord that I had not messed up everything and ruined our friendship.

"Oh, dear Watson," Holmes breathed. His long and thin fingers were tapping on his sinewy lap vigorously. "You are so exactly on point sometimes. Everything you said - all of it... I feel the same way."

My heart fluttered with excitement and happiness. A ridiculously wide smile spread across my face. It looked as though he wanted to say more, so I let him.

Holmes continued. "And yes, I do not wish for the whole world to know about it through your stories. I see I was a bit too harsh about it, moments ago. I apologise."

Holmes got up to make sure the door was shut and the window curtains had been drawn. They were. Holmes then walked across the room to approach me. I was still sitting, so he looked down at me with the same intensity as before.

I looked up to meet his gaze and locked my eyes with him.

He held out his pale hand to me in an offer.

My heart pounded as I took that hand and got up to meet his eye level.

His eyes were filled with longingness and pain. His brows were furrowed. "The world will never forgive us. They will never acknowledge that we are just two people in love who happen to be men."

He was right, as always. My eyes welled up as I gulped. I was still holding his hand, which felt warm and dry in mine.

"I know. Do you think this is a bad idea, then?" I tried to be prepared for the worst. 'Tried'.

Holmes placed his other hand on my waist and pulled me close. Our faces were just inches away. "I never said that, Watson. I was never the one to go with the rules, was I?"

We both shared a short laugh. Without another word, we leaned in and I captured his bottom lip with my mouth.

He made a desperate sound and we deepened the kiss with our arms wrapped around each other tightly. The dam had broken, and we were unable to let go for a whole minute.

I pulled away reluctantly. "Holmes, I-"

"Sherlock."

My ears had been aching to hear that correction. "Sherlock, I was saying that we need to deal with this in a practical way as well. I will not forgive myself if we were to be arrested because of this," I said with my brows furrowed.

"You are right," he said, holding my face in his hands.

"I suppose we would have to confine our relationship to the rooms of this flat." My heart was heavy.

My lover's ethereal grey eyes lit up with a mischievous glint in them. Christ, the effect those eyes always had on me.

"I have a plan."

Of course, he did. I was now looking at him with expectation and pride.

"You are going to have to marry a woman."

"What the deuce are you -"

"Shh." Sherlock placed a long finger on my mouth. "Just listen. That woman is a distant relative of mine. She is going to be our next client too. Her name is Mary Morstan."

I still did not get what was going on. Was he already pushing me away?

"For God's sake, do not look so heartbroken," he said and pulled my face close by my chin to press another kiss on my mouth.

"Her situation is just like ours. She has fallen in love with another woman too. Only I knew about that until now. She is in a constant state of having to look over her shoulder, trying to keep the prying eyes of this cruel world away. It occurred to me just now that if you married her, we would not have to worry about society anymore. It would be helpful for all four of us."

I sighed in relief and gave this whole thing a thought for a moment. "Excellent plan, Sherlock. This is brilliant!"

Sherlock smiled and looked down as he blushed.

"Just remember to never be on a first-name basis in public. John."

I grinned from ear to ear like an idiot, before pulling him in for a slow, drawn-out kiss again.

I knew what I had to do next. I just had to twist the facts in my next story to make it look like I was in love with Mary or whatever her name was.

Now, nobody would speculate a thing about Holmes and I, would they?

***

Sherlock September Challenge

Prompt Romance by @onesmallfamily

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @gaylilsherlock @lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @lookingforlifeoutthere @clueless-mp4 @missdeliadili @curlyjohnlock @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear @kettykika78 @calaisreno

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linksthoughtbrambles · 7 months

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Her Voice in Far-off Water

A totk fic for Linktober 2023 Day 10 Prompt: Zelda. 800 words. Bittersweet.

Link didn’t slide down the well-ladder this time.

The last time he had, Zelda’d scolded him.

“I come here to concentrate, Link. As precious as you are to me, it’s difficult to do so when you’re about.”

“I’m about anyway!”

“Yes, but I cannot interact with you while alone belowground.”

He made a lopsided grimace, fists on his hips. “Here I was thinking you needed time away from high pitched little-kid voices.”

“That, too.”

“You know they don’t leave when you disappear, right? They climb on me and catch frogs in the pond instead.”

“Yes,” she said with a millimeter of smirk.

“Maybe I should have Bolson dig me a man-cave.”

“Perhaps you should!”

“We could both disappear at the same time.”

“Indeed!”

“Mine wouldn’t be as nice.”

“It might be if we locate a suitable location with respect to the water-table.”

“What would I do in there?”

“That is entirely your business,” she said with growing laughter.

“What?”

“Perhaps you could practice remaining still.”

“I can stay still!”

“Link, you cannot even crouch for a few minutes without fidgeting.”

“I can if I need to. It’s just uncomfortable.”

“What about standing without rolling your shoulders or flexing your muscles?” She poked his bicep. Then she wiggled her finger.

“PFF-“ he caught her hand and pulled her in at the waist. “I can do it if I need to.”

“Hmm. Hmhmhm.”

He tickled her ribs.

“AAH!”

He heard her laugh echo in the soft, unbroken whoosh of some far-off, subterranean brook, carried through the surface of the clear well-water.

His lower lip curved up—just for a moment.

His boots scuffed their way to her desk. She’d left her journal open, a frog-shaped paperweight on one corner.

“Go on. Taste it!”

He shook his head. The top pages felt the tiniest bit warped from moisture. He moved to close it, not at all expecting the words he caught; he couldn’t help but read them. She’d hidden a gift for him in the castle’s ruined throne-room. She’d meant to take him… after they studied the gloom.

She’d probably have said she meant to find places to display the champions’ weapons—places of honor for them. He’d have gone along with that. The constant reminder had been too much in their home, but it didn’t feel right to ignore them, either.

He shut the book and his eyes at the same time, overcome with an exhaustion he had no name for. He dropped into the wooden chair and rested his arms on the desk, crossed—then his head on those.

He stayed a long time.

The circle of sunlight had strayed from the well’s floor to a crescent of gold just below the entrance’s rim when he roused. Laughter and a splash issued from somewhere above him.

Catching frogs.

He stretched his sore neck and back with a deep breath, eyeing the drawings she’d pinned to the right. He had a huffed laugh in him somehow.

Aster’d included Zelda’s clips, bright blue like his hairband.

He missed his hairband.

He shook his head, scrubbed his face, stood and resolved to sleep in a less awkward position that night. As he turned to go, he caught sight of her storage chest.

He really shouldn’t leave her journal out. She shouldn’t have either, but small things slipped sometimes with so much on her mind.

He picked the book up and flipped the chest open-

-and there it was, right on top: his hairband. The old one.

He swapped it for the book without a glimmer of thought.

It had faded to a blue-gray. It didn’t complement his eyes, and it would no longer match his champion’s tunic or Zelda’s clips.

He put it on anyway, just like he used to.

“You do this on purpose,” she’d said.

“What?”

“Your messy bangs and long locks to frame your face.”

“Locks?” he said, each of his laughs heightening in pitch.

“Yes!”

“No one says locks anymore, Princess.”

“You’ve deflected.”

“Nah.”

“You could easily pull all your hair back. It’s long enough.”

“Eh.”

“Doesn’t it get in your way during battle?”

“Nope.”

“May I see it the other way?”

Link shrugged. “Sure.”

She styled it for him, smoothing his hair as he kept his breathing slow and even.

“You look handsome.”

“Thanks. Do you… like it this way better?”

She considered him, her hand beneath her chin, her index finger pushing at her upper lip. “Hmm.” Her head listed sideways. “I think I prefer your usual style.”

He snorted and took the band out.

“Only because it looks more like you,” she said softly.

“I’m me no matter what my hair looks like.”

“Of course—though you act in a considerably different fashion with your hair entirely down.”

“That’s because of what we’re doing when you take it out.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

He shut the chest with a quiet tap and rose from crouching. He hadn’t fidgeted at all.

He left with a promise to return the memento with her.

With Zelda.

#linktober #linktober 2023 #zelink #day 10 prompt Zelda #mini-fic #bittersweet #totk spoilers #for sure this time #tears of the kingdom #loz #fanfiction

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sweaterkittensahoy · 1 month

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Gale decided to go with John to London and they make it to the hotel room and Gale is just touchy feely in a way that John has never seen from him before cuz they always had to hide behind friendly playfulness or be quick or quiet about their affection. I just want Gale wrapping his arms around John's neck, sitting on his lap, all the above and just absolutely blowing John's mind with how much he loves him.

[No queerphobia but also Buck keeps his feelings right here in his chest and one day, he'll die]

"Come to London with me," Bucky says. "We'll paint the town red." His offer is sincere, but he truly doesn't know if Buck will agree or not. He watches Buck chew his toothpick and wishes he could lean in and pull it from his mouth, hold his jaw and kiss him in front of Meatball and everyone.

But Buck's not affectionate like that. He's funny and smart-mouthed, giving Bucky affection with teases and little nudges. Bucky's just glad Buck doesn't mind how affectionate he is. How he needs to rotate around Buck like the Earth to the sun. Have an arm around him, grab his chin, sometimes even bite at him through his uniform.

"Sure," Buck says, breaking Bucky from his thoughts. "I'll go to London with you." His smile builds slowly as Bucky stares at him. "Oh, come on, I'm not a complete wet blanket."

Bucky grins and wraps an arm around Buck's waist. "Just slightly damp sometimes," he says and laughs when Buck shoves his shoulder. "Come on. Let's make tracks before they stop us."

*

Bucky only means to stop at the hotel for a quick shower and a change of clothes, but two minutes after he steps under the water, Buck crowds in with him.

"Oh, hey," Bucky says. "You want to--" He cuts off when Buck grabs his hips, digging in his fingers, and presses his cheek between Bucky's shoulder blades. "Buck?"

Buck rubs his cheek back and forth and wraps his arms around Bucky's waist. He softly kisses the back of Bucky's neck, and then he nudges Bucky forward so they're both under the water.

"Buck?" Bucky asks again.

"I can't--" Buck kisses behind Bucky's ear, then drags his hands up Bucky's torso. "You're so much better at this."

Bucky shakes his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Buck traces Bucky's ribs, making him shiver, and then he drags his mouth down Bucky's neck and shoulder and halfway down his bicep. "This," he says. "Touching."

"You're doing just fine there," Bucky says as another shiver works its way over him. Buck's nosing his spine, running his hands up and down Bucky's side from armpits to hips.

"I want to. All the time. Touch you. But I--" Buck shakes his head. "There's reasons, Bucky. I wish I didn't have them but--"

Bucky turns around. He touches Buck's chin, and Buck lifts this head to meet his eyes. "Hey, you don't have to explain to me, okay? We're usually around people, and you don't like to share. I know you."

Buck grins faintly. "It's not that I don't like to share. It's that it's..." He sighs and presses his face against Bucky's colllar bone. Licks once, then bites down lightly, just like Bucky does to him sometimes. "I used to be jealous about how easy you are with touching everyone. Not that you were touching everyone. Just that you could. Can."

"You touch me as little or as much as you want anywhere, anytime, Buck. Just mean it when you do it, yeah?" Bucky feels Buck nod against him. "But if you wanted to work on it," he says, intentionally adding a sing-song quality to his voice, "you could just try to play a little more grab ass once in awhile."

There's a pause, then a snort, and then Buck is lifting his head to try and glare at Bucky, but he's smiling too much for it to be intimidating. "John, for fuck's sake."

Bucky shrugs. "I'm a man of simple needs," he says.

"You're a stone in my shoe," Buck replies.

Bucky laughs. "Yeah, you say that a lot. I know what it means."

"It means I love you," Buck says, going serious again. "It means I can feel you with me, even when I don't want to."

Bucky doesn't have an answer for that. He just pulls Buck close and holds him under the hot water.

*

After their shower, they sit in their robes and look out over London. Buck's leaned into Bucky's side, and Bucky's got his arm tight around Buck's shoulder.

Bucky strokes Buck's hair off his forehead and watches the furrow between Buck's eyebrows slowly deepen. He kisses the spot but doesn't ask what Buck's thinking about. He'll say it or he won't.

Buck turns and throws his legs over Bucky's lap. He scoots closer, wrapping an arm around Bucky's head and pressing his forehead to Bucky's temple.

"Can I tell you something?" Buck asks, the whisper barely carrying.

"You can tell me anything," Bucky says. He wraps his arm around Buck's calves, smiling when Buck turns his knees in a little so there's even more contact.

"My dad," Buck starts. He closes his eyes and sighs. "He taught me not to show affection. Not any kind. It could be used against me. Against him. If anyone thought I actually liked him, I might get taken for whatever he owed someone."

"Jesus Christ," Bucky breathes out.

"And I've tried to learn not to listen to the part of myself that learned that lesson. But it's hard. Especially when..." Buck opens his eyes and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. "We're in the middle of a war, John. One of us could get an engines shot out tomorrow--"

"Buck--"

"No. Shut up. Listen to me, okay. Just listen to me."

"Look at me at least," Bucky says. "If you're going to talk this shit, talk it to my face."

Buck sighs and meets Bucky's gaze. "It's not shit, and you know it. It's so bad up there you didn't even warn me."

Bucky winces but doesn't try to defend himself. Buck's right on the money, same as usual.

"We could die tomorrow, John. That's the truth. We both know it. And I--" Buck's breath shudders and he touches Bucky's neck, traces the shape of his ear. Presses his thumb to Bucky's mouth. Bucky kisses it, and Buck smiles, just a little. "I want to be better at this," he says. "I want to touch you all the time, but I also want to touch you all the time." He rubs Bucky's bottom lip.

"I hear you, Buck." Bucky says. "And I'm not kidding, okay? Whatever you can or can't do, just mean it. Just mean it, and we'll get on just fine."

Buck sighs and nods. He kisses Bucky, then rests his nose just behind Bucky's ear. "Whatever happens, John, just know I always mean it."

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Bucky replies, thinking of how often Buck's right at his side, leaned towards him with their arms pressed together. How often they're sat so their knees can knock. He thinks of the way Buck grabs his shoulder to steer him places, or just barely taps his elbow to get his attention. He touches Bucky all the time. Knowing he wants to touch him like this, all curled up on Bucky like he wants to fit exactly right in his lap, it takes Bucky's breath away.

"You know what? You don't ever have to tell me again if you don't want," Bucky adds, turning so his own nose is pressed against Buck's temple. "You're a man of your word, Gale. You ever change your mind, just say so."

"Don't think I could change my mind about you if I wanted to. "

And that warms Bucky from his head to his toes, that warm raspy voice rolling out a truth that makes Bucky feel ten feet tall.

"You're a maniac," Bucky says. "I fucking love you."

"I fucking love you, too," Buck replies.

Bucky dips his head down and kisses him, then leaves them pressed forehead to forehead, mingling their breath as they stay where they are, in a moment of bright and quiet happiness that Bucky swears he'll never allow himself to lose.

#cleagan #bucksquared #fic prompt #bucky egan #buck cleven #a little bittersweet #but in a oh god i love you so much sort of way

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