#fun fluff

Description: A simple shooting contest turns into jokes, challenges, and way too many “last shots.” Neither of you takes it too seriously, but somehow it still means everything.

It's hockey season, so of course I've been watching my team as much as possible (go, Avs!). And since I think Sonny would be a fun friend to watch hockey with, this little oneshot was born. But because Barba is...well, Barba, I gotta involve him. Enjoy!

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Word Count: 961

Rating: T (swearing)

Chapter: 1/1

Summary: You invite Barba to join you and Carisi for a hockey game watch party. That just so happens to be at your place. And has absolutely nothing to do with your slight crush on the A.D.A.

This movie… these two!!! Cassie and Luke?! It’s love, fire love fire, love love love!!! 😍♥️

The “don’t mess with me” “o-ho, like this?!” fanfic radar spun around in an instant. Like there is so much tackle him / get her and tickle each other vibes, my head is a mess right now. 🤯♥️ Filled with too much fluff and tickle potential for these honeybunches. Like “so many month later and you never told me, you’re (that) ticklish?” “Never asked. Never investigated!” Ding. Ding. Chase him, get him good right on the sofa - or the bed. Make out. Have fun. Laugh a lot in between - the cute-romantic fun way. 😏♥️ Hellz to the yes! 😍

I mean……… 🤭😏 (it’s behind the scenes but still!!)

Eight Years Ago

A jar of fireflies casted their blanket fort in a whimsical glow reminiscent of summer’s encroaching warmth. In tune to the flickering light, two shadows danced across the walls late into the evening. As is the case with most parties, the guests had drunken themselves silly from apple juice and ginger beer, getting lost in the revelry. Amongst the cluster of half-finished board games were bowls laden with cracker jacks, licorice ropes, and sweets cakes procured from  Stillman's Candy Shop. The remnants of which clung to the floorboards and the walls of their fort.

The esteemed soldier and proud patron of regency, Sir Reginold, sat with perfect posture at the end of the gathering. His painted eyes surveyed the game of Chess with both amusement and skepticism. By his side was Lady Thistle of Fox Hollow. Despite being almost twice his age, she still maintained an air of beauty with her overstuffed belly and vibrant, velveteen coat. She leaned heavily on Sir Reginold, humming along to the tune played by the bard. Rutherford J. Peachworthy, the seven armed octopus, sat in the corner with all his instruments as his one-man band played sea-shanties and ballads.

I do wonder how he lost that eighth arm, whispered Lady Thistle to Sir Reginold.

Lost it in a harrowing accident with the dog next door. Don’t bring attention to it, warned Sir Reginold, He’s quite sensitive about it.

Not bringing attention to it. Just...Admiring.

Well, quit your star-gazing and pay attention. Ol’ sport’s got the lass cornered!

Only the most important people were invited to the Midnight Celebration. An exclusive - and o’so secret - party that celebrated the final hours of the year. Aside from the Knight and Lady, only one other person received a formal invitation written by the hand of the Honored Guest. That person had been the same to procure the venue, snacks, and music - Max Parkhurst.

Max sat cross-legged on the black side of the chess board. Lip pursed and brows furrowed, she made a show of scouring the board for options. There was a lot on the line. The praise of Sir Reginold, a kiss from Lady Thistle, and a whole box of cherry filled chocolates would be gifted to the winner. Max swallowed hard, feeling the pressure weigh on her shoulders, and adjusted her party hat. It seemed almost as if Peachworthy was matching the music’s tempo to the rising stakes. She stole a glance up at her opponent. And couldn’t suppress the smile which crept on her lips.

Augustine beamed on the other end of the board. He wore his favorite overalls- the one with the faded foxes embroidered on the pocket- and a slightly askew crown on his head. His pale cheeks, deeply freckled from the Kul’tiran sun, were flushed with excitement and sticky from melted candy. A handful of cracker jacks laid clenched in one hand while the other hand thumped his knee. Just a touch of pink poked out from between lips as he kept licking at his absent tooth. He kept stealing nervous glances at his Rook stationed in-line with her King, as if he were praying for the piece’s success in regicide.

Hurry up and finish it!

Hush, you! It isn’t his turn. A gentleman must NEVER cheat.

The young boy stuffed his cheeks full of cracker jacks, wiping the residue caramel on his overalls, and nodded for Max to make her move. A sly smirk played on the older sibling’s lips. Slowly, her hand hovered over the board until it rested just above her Bishop. Augustine held his breath as he bounced in his seat.

Oh. Not that one!

Max canted her head. Thought over her choice before selecting the Pawn just next to the Bishop. Augustine and his guests all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Pawn to C4,” she mused, flashing a smarmy grin.

What a blunder she’s made!

All too enthused, Augustine reached over and crashed his Rook into her King. “And I take your King!”

Max hitched back her chin with a faux gasp. “Well… It appears you’ve won again.” And in the same motion, she leaned across the fort to Sir Reginold. “Good show Ol’ Sport!”- she donned her best gravel tone as she maneuvered his arms- “Right, Good Show!”

She then picked up Thistle and brought the plush’s muzzle to his cheek for a smooch. “M’aw! I knew you could do it, Lord Parkhurst. Simply knew you could do it!”

Augustine curled into himself and giggled. “It is all thanks to you, guys!” He reached for the box chocolates. Unwrapped it from its foil paper and plucked a candy for either guest. “So, to show me appr- appre… My thanks! I give each of you one chocolate.”

“Oh, Lord Parkhurst,” -Max flopped a paw over Lady Thistle’s muzzle- “You are far TOO kind.”

“And one for you as well.” Augustine held a chocolate out to Max. “Because you played a good game.”

Max accepted the treat with a warm smile. She plucked the candy from its wrapper, watching from the corner of her eyes as her brother gestured to the plush octopus- “Music!” She began to whistle a tune as Augustine scooped up Lady Thistle. They spun in lazy circles, stepping over empty bowls and cups still rimmed with juice, until the clock in the parlor struck twelve. Delight danced in Augustine’s eyes as a sudden realization dawned on him. He turned to Max, flashing her a gapped tooth grin.

“It’s my birthday…” he squeaked.

“Indeed.” Max pushed herself to her feet, gesturing to the jar of fireflies. “Come on. And bring those.”

She held up the blankets as Augustine shimmied out of the fort with jar in hand. They both blinked into the mist of dust that coated their shared attic room. Cold and ominous it felt compared to warmth in the blanket fort, only a sliver of moonlight drifted in from the port window. Max lifted Augustine onto her shoulders so he could reach the window’s lip. He waited a moment, head bowed over the jar in silent gesture, before releasing the fireflies out into the tepid, summer air.

“Wish for something good?” she breathed, setting him on his bed.

Max listened half-hearted as she began to disassemble their fort. Her brow furrowed upon being met with silence. She turned back to find Augustine perched on the edge of his bed. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing.” His nose wrinkled. A pause followed. “I just...Wish tonight wasn’t over already. It was a lot of fun.”

“Well, we’ll have more fun tomorrow.” She shook crumbs and candy wrappers from the blanket before throwing it over him. “With plenty of cake and presents.”

Augustine flopped down onto his pillow, looking up with a ghost of a pout. “I suppose… Though, Auntie will want to make it all proper. Have me wear a suit and sit at a table full of people I don’t know…”

“You mean our relatives?” She rescued Sir Reginold and Lady Thistle from the party’s aftermath. Placed them on either side of Augustine and tucked the trio in. “Come on. You know exactly who they are.”

“Well, doesn’t mean I like them!” He crossed his arms with a huff. “And doesn’t mean they’ll be any fun. I want to continue the Midnight Celebration all the way until the sun rises! Then we can have cake for breakfast. That would be a good birthday.”

“How about this,” Max mused, sitting on the edge of his bed, “Once I’m eighteen and we’re living on our own, we’ll spend all your birthdays like this. Full of treats and laughter and fun. And only the closest of our friends will be invited to our party. Does that sound fine with you?”

Augustine nodded.

“I would like that very much.”

“Good.” She ruffled his hair. “But for now, you get some sleep. You’ll need plenty of rest now that you’re nine.”

A yawn escaped Augustine as he sunk further into bed. “I thought...You needed less sleep as you got older.”

“Quite the opposite. Now… Less talking. More sleeping.”

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, POV Alec Lightwood, Competitors on a futuristic game show, Intellectual equals, First Meeting, Nervous but determined Alec, Magnus the prize worth winning, Week 2: Neon

*Week 2 entry for the sh_ficletinstruments writing challenge*

Oh what fun, to wake up as a badass character in your favorite novel, and to have the opportunity to romance your favorite 'bias' cutie example of all stories ever! Alas, this book? Is an egregious gratuitous obnoxious tragedy.

(“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”)

Erica peeked into Solas’ rotunda. The bald elf was nowhereto be seen and she ushered Cullen quickly inside.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Cullen said in awhisper. Erica laughed softly.

“It’ll be fun,” she insisted.

“If we get caught, we’ll be the laughing stock of the Inquisition.”Cullen groused as he moved over to the desk in the middle of the room. “Whydidn’t you just get Sera to do this?” Erica pulled the chair out and moved tothe opposite side of the desk.

“Who do you think suggested the idea?” She said coyly andshe took one end of the desk. Cullen made a squeaky noise and Erica stifled anotherlaugh. “Besides, you’re they only one I’d trust with a mission this important.”

Cullen wasn’t buying it and told her so with the eyebrow heraised as they rotated the desk 180 degrees.

“More like I’m the only pair of strong hands you could coninto doing this,” he grumbled as she kissed his cheek. She moved to the sofaagainst the wall and motioned for him to help her move it too. Once they hadeither rotated all of the furniture, or moved it across the room they beat ahasty retreat into the night and across the bridge to Cullen’s office.

Giggling, Erica closed the door behind them and leaned onit.

“Happy?” Cullen asked, trying and failing to keep a sourlook on his face. She threw her arms around his neck languidly.

“Very,” she kissed him and his arms went around her waist.They stayed like that for a minute or two until Cullen pulled away just enoughto glance at his loft.

“You know,” he started. “The night is still young.”

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Underage Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: snapchat fic, excessive use of cellphones, dumb boys in love Summary:

Derek has just disappeared out the window when Stiles pulls out his phone, takes a photo of the bottle of lotion on his bedside drawer and sends it to Derek, with the words, "may or may not be thinking about you right now".