Paddy's cigarette dangled from his lip as Eoin stood in the doorway of the tent.
'Haunted?'
Eoin nodded slowly, thoughtfully.
'I was cooking -baking- and when I turned back to the cooling tray three of the biscuits were gone.'
Paddy snorted and put down his book.
'Where did you put the tin?'
'The usual spot in the cupboard' Eoin looked confused but followed Paddy, sneaking when Paddy pressed a finger against his lips and motioned for them both to be quiet.
There was a sharp crunching noise; Paddy twitched the flap of the mess hall open and there was Reg, frozen stock still with a comically guilty expression on his face and a trail of crumbs dusting the front of his shirt.
'Funny looking ghost' Paddy smirked, as Eoin glared at Reg.
Character A confesses a fear (silly or serious) to Character B.
Johnny glances across the tent towards Reg, worrying twisting his lips into a pout as he wonders whether he should say something or not. He decides not to, sighing quietly as he rolls over. He rolls back over 5 minutes later, still wide awake and unable to sleep.
“Reg?” he whispers softly.
“Hmm, yeah?” Reg replies just as quietly.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Well what do you want me to do about it? Cuddle you to sleep?” Reg says sarcastically. Johnny tries his best not to nod but he must fail as Reg turns to look at him, squinting at him with a funny look on his face.
“You don’t like sleeping alone huh?” Reg whispers, far more perceptive than Johnny ever thought he could be with only a few words having been said.
Johnny opens his mouth and then shuts it but Reg simply raises an eyebrow in reply and he finds himself speaking before he can tell himself not to.
“Yeah, yeah I usually cuddle a pillow at home. I really don't like being alone. It's silly I know but.......”
Reg doesn't say anything, just sits up and peers at the pillow he’s lying on, clearly contemplating something before he settles back down and casually holds a hand out towards Johnny.
“Tell ya what, instead of a pillow…..how about me?”
Once the shock wears off, Johnny almost trips over his own feet in his haste to join Reg, happily snuggling up to his chest instead of a regular old lumpy army pillow.
And if Johnny’s being honest with himself - this pillow is worth cuddling!
fandom: SAS: Rogue Heroes
word count: anywhere between 100 and 1200
pairings: Gen, Johnny Cooper/Reg Seekings, David Stirling/Doctor Gamal, Jim Almonds/Pat Riley
behold! all of my October prompt fills collected together on AO3 in one handy dandy series. they can be read separately. I hope you enjoy!
every fic title is a Wednesday 13 song, so I've also made a little Halloween playlist on spotify to go with it if you enjoy that kind of thing :)
thank you @almost-a-class-act for organizing this, I really enjoyed challenging myself to write something every day! <3
day 24 of @almost-a-class-act's War Is Helloween prompts!
Character A turns up wearing a Halloween costume that Character B is extremely into, OR very scared of.
SAS: Rogue Heroes - Dr Gamal/David Stirling
“Very cute.”
David startles out of the little daydream he’d slipped into. He realises he’d been staring at Asim, more specifically at the costume he was wearing - a cheap black satin cape, with a red lining, the only evening suit David knows he owns, and a pair of cheap, goofy, plastic fangs that muffle his voice a little. He looks ridiculous. He also looks really hot, and David knows he’s been staring for far too long.
“Huh?” He says intelligently, his cheeks heating, berating himself internally. Nice going.
“The ears. They’re very cute.” Asim gently strokes a finger over one of the fluffy ears perched on David’s head. It had been a very last minute costume that he’d pulled out when Eve invited him over for a Halloween party. He’d wanted to object, but she’d told him he had to have a costume, so she’d pulled out the ears, and then, after giving him a once over, had strapped a blue dog collar round his neck too, before declaring him a presentable, very pretty, tame werewolf.
David tries not to stutter like an idiot as he thinks of something to say. “Uhh, thanks. Your…um, your cape looks cool too.”
Part of David wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, and he’s about to turn and flee from this embarrassing encounter, when a grin stretches over the other man’s face, and David feels a little weak in the knees with the full force of that smile being aimed at him.
Asim chuckles. “Eve gave them to me. She said something a little cryptic. She said that you’d like the costume.”
“I-I…yeah, I do. You look really good in it.” A bolt of lightning would do just as well as a sinkhole.
“You look good in your costume, too, David. The ears suit you. So does the collar.” There’s a pause for a moment, the two of them considering what Asim has just said, the noise of the party washing over them, as Asim reaches up and strokes a finger over the ears again. Then, he slowly, gently, hooks a finger into the blue leather collar round David’s neck and pulls him in close. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“God yes.”
Asim slides the finger out from beneath the collar, and then grabs David’s hand, tugging him away from the rest of the crowd, and part of David wishes Asim still had his finger hooked in the collar to tug him along.
It doesn’t matter though, because later, when they reach Asim’s flat, David gets his wish. All night long.
Character A tries to convince Character B that it's too early to put the Halloween decorations up OR that it's too early to get the house ready for winter.
Warnings: War time language
Daires of Wartime - Day 1
1 October
Someone had found the frequency of one of the Russian radio stations on the radio. Even though no one could understand a single word, we were listening to nothing but the songs that had been released there recently. The melodies of the songs, the voices of the singers, the way the words were spoken, managed to reach something inside our hearts. Even Toye once said something about Ivan knowing how to make music, with a spent cigarette dangling from his lips. Webster tried to write something about Russian critics, but he gave up when he realized that no one was listening to him.
The same radio station was playing now. One advantage of listening to songs in a language we don't understand is that we can put whatever we want and want to feel into their melodies. We were now starting to recognize some parts. One of my favorites was playing. A slow, romantic -I think- song. I like to think that this song is about two lovers who can't get together. And of course, there are gunshots coming from outside the barn we were sitting in. They are very distant, but in recent months they have become like background music in movies in our lives. The background music of our lives while the scenes are flowing. Ingrid is luckier than us. When he said "Play it, Sam!" she heard Time Goes By. We say "Play, Hans!" and hear the sounds of ceaseless artillery fire.
There's that shadow again. Outside the door, it extends with the light coming from the bare bulb, fading into the darkness and disappearing. I know very well whose shadow you are. Don't I always see him that way, from behind the shadows, through the fog? Who could really look directly at his face? Who did he let? Why does he surround himself with stories that are repeated over and over again, each time adding a new detail? I'd like to know you, Speirs. Lieutenant Speirs, I'd really like to know you. Ron, I want to get to know you.
He's talking to Dick outside. Only Dick walked in, followed by Lewis. But that's it. He did not come. I would like to see him one last time. Even if it's from afar. Quietly. I wonder if he ever thought about me? Is he aware that I exist? I wish I could hunt his October nights. Let him think of me in his bed every night, before falling asleep, just like I think of him. With an ache in his heart but at the same time, with a smile.
Lipton is next to me, reading a letter from his family. There's a funny part where his father and mother argue about decorations to hang. He made me read it too. His mother wants to hang Halloween's decorations already, his father says there is still time. Even though Halloween is foreign to me, I think I have learned more or less what it is. I guess this is what a house is like. A complete home. Maybe if I had a house, people at home would write me letters and what they wrote would be like Lipton's. Small family arguments, daily chores, gossip about neighbors and relatives. Vest would bring me stamped envelopes with pictures of flowers on them. My name would be written on it in my brother's bad handwriting. My mother would write how sorry she was that I was away and that she cried every day. My father would ask about my health. But nope. I don't have such a family, and since I don't have such a family, I have no excuse to buy stamps with pictures of flowers on them.
I put my head on Lipton's shoulder, it's too heavy for me to carry anymore. I will close my eyes and continue listening to his letter.
Day Five of War is Helloween prompts by @almost-a-class-act !
Prompt: Character A meets Character B in a pumpkin patch and they both want the same one.
Characters: Eugene Roe/Renee LaMaire
Renee woke up, looked up at her alarm clock, and panicked before remembering that it was her day off. She smiled, and pulled her comforter tight around herself, enjoying the luxury of not having to wake up at 4:30 am to make it to the ER by six.
Eventually, she went downstairs to her kitchen, where a pot of coffee was already ready for her. She’d bought the house two months ago, after years of working overtime shifts to afford it. No more nasty apartments, no more roommates. Yes, the bungalow needed some work, but she’d already painted some of the rooms and found odds and ends at flea markets and estate sales. Slowly but steadily, she planned on making it her own.
Halloween was a few weeks away, and it was the first holiday she would celebrate in the house. She spent her lunch hours looking at Pinterest on how to decorate her porch. She couldn’t wait to hand out candy to the neighborhood kids and pretend to be scared by their costumes.
She showered, put on jeans and a flannel shirt, and tied a bandana around her head. She grabbed her purse and got into her car. She entered Boostogne Pumpkin Patch into Google Maps and was on her way.
The place was as cute as it looked on their website. She started filling a wagon with mums, cornstalks, and hay bales before heading over to the pumpkins. Pumpkins of every type were available. Some were good for jack o’lanterns or pies. They had ugly pumpkins with bumps. There were even white and yellow and red pumpkins. She started loading some into the wagon.
She reached for the pumpkin she wanted next and let out a small gasp when she felt a hand instead of the stem. She looked up and saw a familiar face. Gene Roe, a paramedic she knew from work.
No one called him Gene, though. Everyone called him Doc, ever since he had prevented a new resident from giving a patient an incorrect dosage.
“Sorry,” the doctor said. “I forgot.”
“Well, you’re not supposed to forget. You’re the only one in this room who went to school for seven years.”
From then on, all the nurses called him Doc, and the nickname stuck.
She enjoyed working with him. He gave excellent information to the ER staff, clear and concise. He kept the patients calm with his soothing manner. Not long after she started working at the hospital, they lost a patient, a young man in a car accident.
After he coded, she took a break outside, trying to find a private space where no one would see her cry.
He must have been trying to do the same thing when he found he found her sitting against the wall. He sat down next to her.
“Hey,” he said gently. “We did the best we could.”
She nodded.
“Can I ...?” He extended his arm. She nodded as she leaned into his shoulder.
After a few minutes, she remembered the mini Hershey bars in her scrub pockets.
“Chocolate?” she offered him, and he took one. From then on, she always shared a piece with him when he dropped off a patient.
“Nurse LaMaire.”
She smiled. “We’re not at work. You can call me Renee.”
He smiled back. “Renee,” he said, in his soft drawl.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He looked at her, shyly. “My grandma always took me here when I was a kid. I thought I’d pick her up a few pumpkins.”
“Well, I’m not going to take your grandma’s pumpkin,” she said as she let go of it.
“No, it’s okay,” he said.
She shook her head and grabbed the pumpkin next to the one he still held in his hand. “This one is just as good.”
“Only if you’re sure,” he said.
“I am.”
“My grandma was a nurse, at the VA hospital in Baton Rouge. I think what you all do is amazing.” He looked her in the eye. “I think what you do is amazing. You have a gift.”
They were both quiet for a moment.
“Well, if you’re going to give up your pumpkin, the least I can do is I buy you something at the cafe.”
He jerked his head over to a building. “They make the best pumpkin donuts here. You have to try one.” She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t really like pumpkin, that she was more of a chocolate girl. Because at that moment, she wanted to share a pumpkin donut with Gene Roe more than anything.
“I’d like that,” she said.
He put his pumpkin in her wagon and took the handle in one hand.
He reached out his other hand toward hers.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
She nodded, and they walked hand in hand to get some donuts.
Day Three of War is Halloween prompts by @almost-a-class-act !
Summary: Character A turns up at a suppprt group for people who claim to have been abducted by aliens.
WC: 518.
C/W: None?
BofB Masterlist!
Halloween Prompts Masterlist!
The red head bounced his leg nervously as it was his turn to speak at the support group.
“So I haven’t been abducted by aliens but, I think my boyfriend is one of them.” Babe spoke up, the group shared gasps and sat forward looking at him.
“I feel like I’m crazy but I lost my favorite pair of socks the other day and he knew exactly where they were. Plus I swore I saw his eyes change from blue to green. Then he just seems to know so much about space and other planets.” Babe explained.
Gene had somehow beat Babe home, it was weird Babe usually never left the house after five.
Babe kicked off his shoes as he blindly hung up his keys by the door. He saw Genes work shoes on the floor and realized he had about 10 seconds to come up with a valid enough excuse of where he was.
What if Gene was gonna abduct him and cut him open and perform experiments on him. Take him a million light years away to his planet, oh my god what if Gene could shape shift?
“Edward?” Gene called from the kitchen.
Babe looked around as he poked his head around the corner.
“What’re you doing?” Babe asked keeping himself safe from the wall between the kitchen and the dining room.
“Unpacking my lunch…what are you doing?” Gene furrowed his eyebrows, confused on why Babe was acting like this.
“Nothing,” Babe shrugged, walking into the kitchen keeping distance from Gene and refusing to make eye contact.
Gene was really good at reading body language and he felt his stomach drop. “You don’t have to answer me but are you cheating?” Never in a million years would he think that Babe was cheating but this was strange behavior for him.
Babe turned bright red and then made eye contact with Gene, “No…god no…never. If I tell you where I was will you not get mad at me or think I’m crazy?”
“If you’re gonna tell me you’re sleeping with Bill I don’t wanna hear about it.” Gene narrowed his eyes as he opened up the empty container and put it in the dishwasher.
“No! Why would I? No…I, uh, was at a support group for people who have been abducted by aliens…” Babe looked up at the ceiling. Gene felt a smile grow onto his face and he bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. Babe had a very overactive imagination.
“Have you been abducted by aliens, Babe?” Gene came over to the other side of the island table and took the other’s hand.
“Are you going to abduct me right now?” Babe looked down at the absolute love of his life.
“Abduct you to our bedroom? Maybe. But definitely not abduct you to Planet Louisanna.” Gene smiled and kissed Babe's knuckles.
“Planet bedroom sounds kinda nice.” Babe smirked and shot a wink to the other as he squeezed Gene's hand.
Character A cuts themselves pumpkin carving, pie making, or doing some other fall activity; Character B comes to the rescue.
Reg hisses as he feels the big kitchen knife slice across his thumb, wincing as he watches the blood well up across the digit before he slowly moves it away from the pumpkin he was carving. Before he can even move his thumb to start sucking on it, Johnny’s already at his side, damp towel in his hands and moving to take care of Reg.
Reg watches Johnny work, bemused by Johnny’s attention to his care, mouth lifting in a small smile as he’s cared for by his boyfriend. Johnny holds the towel tight around his thumb and tugs him across the room to the cupboard with the first aid kit inside.
He roots around in it with a stern word for Reg to “stay still!” while he works. Reg does as he’s told, still bemused at how organised Johnny seems in the face of such a small injury. Johnny grabs a small plaster and an antiseptic wipe, taking care to thoroughly clean the small cut before he wraps it up.
Johnny gives the now wrapped thumb a small kiss before they both shuffle back towards the counter to continue carving their pumpkins ready for Halloween night!
