#ficlet Tumblr posts

  • oyasuminto
    25.09.2021 - 22 minutes ago

    Isekai anon here, Please enjoy!

    Kylar fiddled with the ring on his finger smiling to himself, giddy that finally finally he was just that much closer to getting married to his love. It may not be a wedding ring, but a ring from the church that promised her to him and him alone was pretty much an engagement ring no? With this ring it also got rid of that blasted damn chastity belt that kept them from getting very intimate. Finally feeling the warmth of her walls and hearing her adorable and alluring moans and mewls with her calling out his name. Ahhh he loved her so so so much!

    Warm delicate hands cupped his face as the scent of bergamot and roses reached his nose and soft if lightly chapped lips met his. The feel of her thumb caressing his cheeks as she pulled away and giggling softly, ah was it possible to love her more?

    “Is everything okay Ky?” she asked still caressing his cheeks and slowly straddling his lap and looking at him with concern. Kylar hummed that he was alright and sighed happily nuzzling into the palms of her hands.

    “I love you, Amelia.” he wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her lips and soon down her neck where he quickly started leaving love bites. She giggled pulling him away kissing his lips and all over Kylar’s face and just showering him in affection.

    “I love you too, Kylar! Thank you again for helping me move the wardrobe to infront of the door. I’d hate for our time to be…interrupted. Especially when we’re cuddling and someone rudely enters my room to berate you.” her fingers tightened into his hair and trailed down his shoulders before pushing him to lay down on her bed.

    “Kylar, love, my adorable fiancé. Make me yours~”

    #Degrees of Lewdity #Kylar the Loner #Ficlet #Other People's Writing #Isekai Anon#Submissions
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  • aechteaseawb
    25.09.2021 - 2 hours ago

    mindless self-indulgent kwsn fluff to distract myself from back-to-school-season let's go

    //

    Oh! This is what it’s like to hold a hand. Shinji thinks in wonder, as though he hasn’t held plenty of hands before, as though he hasn’t held this particular hand plenty of times before. Kaworu-kun’s hand is warm in his, the gentle grip pushing the balls of their sweetly intertwined fingers together. It’s sweet, but it’s also a little bit embarrassing, to have this very public declaration of affection displayed for anyone to see. Shinji sneaks a look at Kaworu-kun, who just seems like he’s so, so glad to be there, holding Shinji’s hand, expression entirely too soft for Shinji’s endearment-receptors to handle. I’m 28. Shinji thinks in a sense of despair about as damning as the headbutt of a kitten, because he hasn’t yet figured out how to push down the flutters bubbling up, filling his chest with an overflowing warmth. Is it even legal in Japan for a man nearing thirty to feel giddy?

    He didn’t previously believe his hands could hold- could be held- tenderly. This pair of hands piloted EVAs, squeezed lives out of bodies, wrought destruction and agony and fully prepared to atone. They’re splotched with blood- spilled from cherished ones, from complete strangers that are cherished ones to someone else. They’re too heavy a burden, a sign of misery and devastation, a cautionary tale, a lesson to be learned and remembered and buried and avoided avoided avoided.

    And yet this same pair of hands are also capable of playing something as painless and simple as music, of reaching out to others out of the wish to familiarize, of creating a better world out of the rubble left from the ruins of an old one. This is something Shinji forgets. This is something Kaworu-kun reminds him anyway, again and again, unknowingly, unprompted, unwittingly, as natural as a heartbeat, in the whispers he presses into Shinji’s palms, as soft as the careful way Kaworu-kun takes his hand and once again, hands his whole life over.

    In the old world, this might’ve felt like a curse. Now, it’s the most honorable, most important, most wondrous mission- to treasure, to protect, to care for his beloved.

    He peers down at their hands, clasped together in a promise. He tightens his hold, just a little, to test out the shape it would preserve on his heart. (Like a flower bud pulsing to bloom, in the first Spring of his memory, and the reciprocating squeeze an echo of the first butterfly landing faintly on the flourishing blossom.) (He thinks his heart might burst.)

    Shinji never knew holding a hand could feel this overwhelming.

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  • disruption-crew-lcorp
    25.09.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Something’s Wrong; They Can Feel It.

    Tien is aware that something is horribly, terribly wrong.

    The residual panic from dipping into the negatives on their SP runs through their veins, pumping through their purple-blue blood, as the essence of rushing water pounds through their head. They are in pain as their eye opens, looking out to a dark room, before they are forced shut again as their stomach turns and twists and ties itself into a knot in their body.

    They are asleep, for now, but do not expect them to be calm when they awake again.

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  • gaylord-zuko
    25.09.2021 - 3 hours ago
    #aang relying on the fact that katara doesn’t understand flower symbolism to avoid telling her directly how he feels is a mood #katara#aang#kataang#ficlet #tattoo artist x florist au #tattoo artist katara #florist aang#crogan writes#au asks #people talking to crogan
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  • buginateacup
    25.09.2021 - 3 hours ago

    Fort Richmond

    No one has said yes to pillow fights with Coach Lasso yet. Mostly because they're all a little nervous about what exactly a Lasso Special pillowfight would involve.

    And also because Isaac did some digging and found a video of Beard at Tennessee State University Pillowfight championships absolutely whaling on a guy three times his size in something that looked more like a cage fight with feathers than a "Tee hee, lets braid each other's hair and talk about boys" pillowfight one would expect from a lifetime of cultural osmosising the actions of mysterious silly and strange teenage girls from TV.

    The fact the other three girls on Beard's team where even more ruthless meant the team tended to err on the side of not getting your head kicked in the day before a match.

    Movie night though.

    Movie night can be bloody brilliant.

    They're in this hotel up near Leeds. Its a nice place, kind of old wood homey rather than a chain motel. The kind of place you could take fifty boy scouts and have them camp in a single room and not worry about the floorboards.

    Its got these great giant couches with wide arms that you can sit on or balance a whole mug of tea which is how you know its a good couch. And there are piles of blankets near a basket by the fire for any old guests who haven't had to run ten miles in the freezing Cardiff rain.

    They're watching Coraline, which is fucking brilliant but also Colin is switching entirely to zip up clothes forever now. He didn't think he could get a button phobia from a movie and he's kind of sandwiched between Isaac and the arm of the chair when Isaac gets up to take a piss and check in with the gaffer and suddenly Colin's side is much colder and the Other Mother is looming large and scary on the screen and this is not great when a fleecy blanket hits him in the side of the head and flops open over him.

    "Oi!" He squeaks which means Jamie (who's been staring somewhere near his phone and not at the screen while he takes some deep breaths) looks over where he's propped on the arm of the chair beside him and smirks, "Hiding under a blanket Colin? Movie too much for ya?"

    Another blanket hits Jamie and the door to the bathroom swings shut behind Isaac as Colin flaps out the blanket, "Fuck off," He retorts, draping the cheap fleece over the arms and side of the couch, "I'm making a cubby,"

    This armchair is massive, with the blanket open its like a little tent all snuggly under here and he can stretch his feet onto Isaac's side and curl up and have a nap.

    There is a loud screech and the cushion under his feet is ripped away as Jamie shoves the chair he's been leaning on (with a startled Dani sitting on the back) closer to Colin's seat.

    "You can't just throw a blanket over yourself and call it a cubby," He scorns, dropping the cushion between the chairs and draping his own blanket over the gap between the arms, "You have to actually make it not the thing it was before," He crawls into the space and lays down with his arms behind his head, "See? Actual cubby,"

    "Si amigo," Dani agrees, fetching two more blankets and a broom for some fucking reason, "Though if we turn the couches back to back and hold the blankets up with this-" he brandishes the broom, "We can make a space large enough for the three of us!"

    "How are you going to keep the broom upright?" Jan asks from behind Jamie and Dani's face falls.

    "Why would we make a space on the floor when we can push them facing each other and prop the broom up between the cushions?" Colin suggests, partly because Jamie is right but he's not getting beaten at cubby making by him of all people.

    They shove the couches together as quietly as possible which is not very, and make a little tent for the four of them, sitting inside it like they're ten years old and camping in the back yard, not twenty something football stars playing an away game.

    "You call that a blanket fort?" Thierry scorns from the row in front of them, and they have to make a grab for the broom when it slips after all four of them stick their heads out, "You should put another chair at the end so you can make a tunnel in,"

    The four currently in the cubby look at one another and at one of the wide armchairs contemplatively, "Fort Colin could do with an entrance," Colin agrees.

    "Fort Colin?" Jamie scoffs, "Nah mate, your little sleeping bag wasn't a fort, we're calling this Fort Tartt."

    That is a declaration of war and Colin will be first to the battlefield when-

    "Or Fart for short," Jan smiles around the group and Jamie wilts.

    "Fine, but we're not calling it fucking Fort Colin,"

    Colin, founding member of the Fort Colin cubby would beg to disagree but Sam is crouching over with Bumbercatch and a couple of the other players, "Hey guys," He whispers, "Can we join in? We have blankets?" And he holds up the basket full of fleece.

    "Bring some cushions too," Dani suggests and suddenly there is a flurry of activity as every couch in the room is dragged hither and yon and blankets are thrown over every available surface, making a maze of seats and cushions while credits play in the background.

    From the back corner Beard is watching them with inscrutable eyes.

    A fight nearly breaks out between Thierry and Jan over where to place one of the three tall props when there are footsteps and a clunk as a dining chair is dropped into the middle of the gap between Fort Colin (original) and its sister cubby Chateau de Montlaur, "You'll need to make sure you have a central connecting point," Is all Beard says with flat intonation, and goes back to the table he's seated at with Nate.

    The players look at one another and start tying blankets to the high points of the chair back. Bumbercatch's headband is valiantly sacrificed for the cause and the final blanket is thrown in place, eighteen fit young men crouched, curled and huddled up on cushions and between couches inside their collective cubby before the name argument starts up again.

    "Thierry Tower!"

    "Rojas Palace!"

    "Goal Keep" Gets some interest but then-

    "Fort Richmond," Sam suggests.

    There is a consideration of nodding and contemplating before they all agree and O'Brien knocks his emtpy tea mug against the side of one couch to christen it as the door to the room slams open again.

    "Oi where's my fucking seat?" Isaac demands.

    #Ted lasso#tumblr ficlet #I love one team of himbos #cubby house#blanket fort #tis a silly thing #bug is a fanfic #bug is writing a thing
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  • lams-tallmadge
    25.09.2021 - 6 hours ago

    Why do the best fic ideas come as soon as I’m about to call it light’s it???

    But anyways

    I was thinking about D&I and this idea popped up that Laurens and Alexander had their secret wedding in Laurens’s father’s house while he’s on parole and while Hamilton is visiting him. And Nora was there to like…idk…help Hamilton get ready or something and it’s just bitter sweet and full of fluff and…

    *heavy sigh* I’ll dream about it instead. Night y’all!

    #liz radnom crap #duty and inclination #fic ideas#ficlet ideas#gnight yall #I’ll write it tomorrow #unless one of you all want too #you’re more than welcome to do so
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  • disruption-crew-lcorp
    25.09.2021 - 6 hours ago

    Transitional Period, My Dear Torun.

    Torun does not normally dream.

    No, they rarely dream at all.

    It is uncommon for them to dream, especially when they are asleep during a reset.

    They are aware of this, painfully so, and thus they do not know why they are dreaming now.

    It is quite unusual, is it not? Sometime like this has barely ever happened. I don’t blame you for being scared. Someone they have missed speaks to them from beyond. You should rest, Torun. Tomorrow will be better, I promise.

    don’t leave me here. I’m scared.

    I know. It’s going to be okay, I promise. It’s merely a transitional period, my dear Torun. Tomorrow, the rain will fade and sunshine will return. Now, get some rest, okay? You’ve got a long day tomorrow.

    Torun nods at their older cousin, and falls back asleep.

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  • daintyduck99
    25.09.2021 - 6 hours ago
    #i want all of the soft domestic moments for them #peterpatterlina#rukebox #ficlets with ash #julie and the phantoms
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  • thelastspeecher
    24.09.2021 - 9 hours ago
    #yet again a v fun write to write! I love writing me some Smallville AU #Smallville AU#Stanley Pines#Angie McGucket#Stanford Pines#Jimmy Snakes#ficlet#my writing#ask#vulpixen
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  • mari-writes
    24.09.2021 - 9 hours ago

    🦊💕

    Kita Shinsuke was quite aware that he was a puzzle to most people. 

    Just his mere presence seemed to bewilder. The way he carried himself, his fixations with routine, and his blunt manner of speaking... Apparently, it led to this odd, sort of mystifying aura. 

    (That is, according to the people “brave” enough to tell him to his face.)

    Kita had decided, years ago, that altering how he acted, how he came across to others just to make people more comfortable would be impossible without being untrue to himself. So he didn’t.

    What he did regret, however, was that there were very few people who he felt he could talk to as equals. If people weren’t plainly intimidated, they looked to him for answers. Guidance. Wisdom (whatever that meant). 

    Kita didn’t know everything. He was as confused as most human beings about the meaning of life, who he was, what he truly wanted. While he appreciated people’s respect for him, it came at the price of his own vulnerability. 

    Aran Ojiro, of course, was the exception. Had always been. Would always be.

    Aran had been Kita’s sounding board for as long as they’d known each other. Even as a first year high school student, Kita’s intensity had overwhelmed his classmates and team. But Aran had always acted differently than the rest. 

    They were both in college now—different ones, though not so far away they couldn’t meet up—and while Kita had finally met others he could talk to comfortably, Aran remained his touchstone. A benchmark that had still yet to be surpassed. 

    Maybe that’s why Kita’s feelings had grown so deep. Why Aran was still the only person he felt 100% comfortable around. Why it had been so incredibly easy to fall for his best friend.

    “Shinsuke? Are you spacing out again?”

    Blinking, Kita turned to see Aran looking at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised. His lips were grazing the straw of the boba tea in his hands. “I suppose I am,” Kita nodded once, “apologies.”

    “Something on your mind?”

    Taking a sip of his tea, Kita shrugged. “Just thinking about you,” he admitted truthfully. “And what you mean to me.”

    A fit of coughing erupted from his friend. Aran put up his hand to indicate he was okay, but it took another minute before the tea in his throat dislodged. He wiped his mouth, turning to Kita with wide eyes. 

    “Should I not have said that?” Kita frowned. A strange feeling was creeping into his body. Was it… was it actually embarrassment? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t feel embarrassed very often.

    “NO!” Aran gestured wildly. “No, it’s okay! I just…” he bit his lip, eyes shifting. “It surprised me. How you said made it sound like you… you know…” 

    He fell silent. Kita moved closer, trying to catch his eye. “I do not know, Ojiro. What did it sound like?”

    Aran looked up, and they locked gazes once again. For a few moment they just stood there, soaking in each other’s presence. Then Aran’s shoulder relaxed. His stare turned determined. 

    “What do I mean to you, Shin?” 

    Kita felt his heart rate accelerate. Aran was so close, his intense expression darkening by the minute.

    “Oh. Ah, w-well,” Kita couldn’t believe it—he was actually stammering. What had this man done to him?! “I mean, you’re… very… umm…”

    “Because I know exactly what you mean to me.”

    Kita blinked. “O-oh?”

    Nodding, Aran came closer still, until he was only a couple of paces away. Kita could smell him—a mixture of deodorant and his preferred eucalyptus body wash—and take in every detail of his face. 

    “Yeah.” Suddenly, one of Aran’s warm, calloused hands found Kita’s cheek. His thumb dragged along skin, sending a shiver up Kita’s spine. “You mean everything to me, Shin. Everything. There’s no one else I care about as much as you.”

    And that was it. In one moment, all of Kita’s hesitancy and fears about ruining his relationship with his best friend completely vanished. 

    He shot forward, catching Aran’s lips in a firm, tight-lipped kiss. The half-drank tea in his hands crashed to the ground.

    “Mmfph—” Aran gasped through his nose in surprise. It didn’t take long, however, for him to return the gesture. His arms snaked around Kita’s middle, urging him closer.

    Kita followed eagerly, arms coming to hug Aran’s neck as he deepened the kiss, not caring they were in the middle of a public park. 

    This is it, he thought. This is all I need. 

    Who cared what anyone else thought? He would take the entire world misunderstanding and labeling him as something he wasn’t, if only he could have this. HIM. 

    The broke the kiss eventually, catching their breaths as they pressed their foreheads together. Aran’s height forced him to bend down, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

    “I love you, Kita Shinsuke,” he whispered, and Kita felt his entire life finally falling into place. He smiled. 

    “I love you too.”

    // 

    Thanks for reading! This was written for AranKita Week on Twitter. These two are my favorite ship from Inarizaki. They’re so perfect for each other, but they are so underrated by the fandom! They need more love. Thus, I wrote this Hope you enjoyed! :)

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  • solange-annick
    24.09.2021 - 9 hours ago

    Graveside ::: A Dominion Ficlet

    based on an ask I received from @villainsweakness about a dream she had about Helmut visiting Maebh's graveside. Took the idea of Helmut grieving Maebh and ran with it. So, be warned, lots and lots of angst. I wrote this all in one go and didn't beta read, so it's kinda shitty. I hope it's enjoyable (or not, lol) nonetheless

    The muggy, humid air was suffocating. It meandered throughout the Arkansas fields, boiling and sticking to whatever it came across. The Delta. Generations of flooding had made the soil fertile and ripe for planting crops. Catfish waded in the nearby White River, which had recently overflowed its banks- a common occurrence during monsoon season.

    Helmut had stripped to a t-shirt and jeans, a dark beard decorating his features. He hadn’t shaved in several months and didn’t quite know what he looked like anymore. The last time he glanced in a mirror he saw a disheveled man with greying temples- the years of loss finally catching up to him. The Deep South sun did his Eastern European visage no favors.

    He stepped out onto the wood porch and lit a cigarette, surveying the land in front of him. It had been in Maebh’s family for generations- cared for and tended. Once the Vanishing happened and Maebh’s mother was murdered, it fell into disuse. Weeds overgrowing the fields for a self-sustaining crop, cotton, and the rice paddies. Miraculously, the house remained untouched. Only a fine layer of dust coating the interior. No leaks. No break-ins. No damage of any sort. Helmut considered that the maternal line of “gifted” family members somehow rubbed off on the house. Shined it into its own form of magic- as much as Maebh hated to call it magic.

    “Mreow?”

    Helmut bent down to pet the calico rubbing against his leg. A member of the litter born from Maebh’s childhood cat, Fluffy. “You hungry, girl?” he asked, unconsciously speaking in his native Sokovian.

    She purred, standing on her back two legs to rub her face against his hand.

    “I should eat, too.”

    The cat walked to the screen door, pawing it, urging Helmut into the house. He obliged, opening the door, watching as the cat ran toward the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, steadying his breaths, before walking past the photos hanging in the hall.

    Maebh caught his eye and he froze, staring at the last photo before the kitchen. It was one of his favorites. One from when was truly happy and had no idea of how horrible the world was. She could only be six or seven and dangled upside down from a tree limb, a smile plastered across her face and clearly mid-laugh.

    Helmut swallowed and stepped into the kitchen, pushing down the tears rising in his throat.

    He opened the fridge and pulled out a portion of cooked deer, which he had shot a month prior and was still working through. He hadn’t found the courage to actually go into the nearby town for anything more than liquor and cigarettes. Helmut set a plate down for the cat, who meowed in thanks and began to lap up the meat.

    Just as he was about to serve himself his own portion, the unmistakable sound of a car pulling through the woods and down the dirt road reached his ears.

    His hand flew to his sidearm and he pulled it out, rounding through the living room to the front door- now opening.

    “Zemo?”

    “Good God, James,” Helmut re-holstered the pistol, sighing. “I nearly killed you.”

    The other man studied him. “You look like shit.”

    “You really must work on your manners,” he said. “Drink?”

    “Sure,” Bucky followed Helmut into the kitchen, taking in the house on the way. “This is where Maebh grew up? Isn’t it?”

    Helmut paused, halfway taking the whiskey out of the cabinet. “Yes.”

    “Oh.”

    “As much as I enjoy your company,” Helmut spoke gruffly, handing a glass to Bucky. “What is the reason for your visit, James? Surely your government isn’t sending more charges my way. I haven’t broken parole.”

    Bucky downed the liquid, glancing at the ankle monitor that was barely visible under the cuff of Helmut’s pants. “No,” he said. “I’m not here on official business.”

    “Social call?” Helmut asked, sipping his own drink.

    “Of sorts,” Bucky swallowed. He fixated on the notches climbing the kitchen wall, with Maebh’s name and dates written alongside. “I’m here to see Maebh.”

    A silence hung in the air with the humidity.

    “I see.”

    “If you can’t-”

    “No,” Helmut said. “I understand. No need to apologize. She’s… it’s best to show you.”

    “Oh,” Bucky nodded. “Whenever you want-”

    “We can go now.”

    “Now?”

    “Yes,” Helmut sighed. He set the glass on the counter with a dull thud. “Now.”

    Helmut and Bucky walked in silence through the woods, both unsure if it was appropriate to speak, yet neither wanting to do so either. Cicadas filled the space between their footsteps, a trill permeating throughout the trees.

    A creek babbled alongside them, a small offshoot of the river. In better circumstances, the beauty and tranquility could’ve been appreciated. Now, it was just a bitter reminder of what was lost.

    “Here,” Helmut stopped at the edge of a clearing.

    Headstones, many broken and worn, rose from the carefully tended moss and clover. One stood intact, at the far edge of the maintained cemetery. Rocks outlined the grave. Wildflowers- ox eyed daisies, primroses, and cornflowers- waved in the breeze between the rocks above the grave. Bucky didn’t need to ask who laid below the flowers.

    Helmut nodded to Bucky, giving him permission to approach.

    Bucky awkwardly walked to the grave, feeling his legs steadily give out with each step, until he collapsed next to the headstone.

    MAEBH MARIE-ANNE ZEMO - 2005-2027 - Beloved daughter, sister, and friend

    She’d been so...young. So tired. And died so cruelly. Painfully.

    A sob escaped him. “I’m so sorry, Maebh. I thought I could hold it together,” Bucky rubbed his eye, trying to stop the tears that were falling. “You’d be laughing at how quickly I broke down, huh? I know you are. Somewhere. I’m sorry, anyways. I… should’ve done better. Noticed how you were. How much pain you were in. I know you didn’t mean for it- that - this, to happen, but oh God.” He pulled off the glove covering his metal hand and flexed it, studying how the light reflected off the plates. “You thought this thing was so weird. But you didn’t judge me. Hell, you saw right through me. You could see through everyone. We just… couldn’t do that for you.” Bucky knew the tears were falling freely now.

    “Zemo,” he looked back at the man, some twenty yards away, who sat on the ground with his head between his knees, lit cigarette between his fingers. “Christ, he’s just… gone. He looks bad. Real bad. I half expected to find a body here, not gonna lie, Maebh. If anything, he’s sticking around to keep taking care of you. And because you told him to find a purpose.”

    The image was forever ingrained in his memory. Zemo holding, cradling, Maebh in his arms while she choked for air- drugs finally claiming her. How she used her last few breaths to try to reassure Zemo- despite that she was the one dying. How she tightly gripped his sweater, trying to hold him steady. How she begged for him not to take revenge, to let her death consume him, change him. For no one else to suffer because of her actions. For him to find a life beyond her.

    To continue to be a good man. To be the man she knew. No matter what.

    #villainsweakness i know this will destroy you so here you go #not exactly what you sent but close #i was sitting outside in the woods listening to the cicadas and this came to me #for the full effect #listen to line of fire by junip #and hurt by johnny cash #dominion#maebh #i have another ficlet in the works that goes along with your ask more but this one came to me
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  • magicalmanhattanproject
    24.09.2021 - 10 hours ago

    All this talk of betrayals and boogeymen got me thinking...

    In retrospect, Tango really shouldn’t have targeted Etho. He should have gotten as far away from Etho as he possibly could. Etho can read him like an open book and everyone knows Etho’s reputation. But there’s only an hour left until the end of the session and Tango hadn’t been able to find anyone alone.

    Not until he found Etho wandering the taiga chopping down trees. Tango had crept up behind him with a sword drawn and then next thing he knows, the sword is in Etho’s hands and Tango is pressed up against a spruce tree with his hands up and his heart pounding even faster than it has been this whole session. He’s amazed he’s still standing, honestly.

    “So, you’re the boogeyman, huh?” Etho asks. He’s smiling under his mask.

    “What, me? Nope, definitely not the boogeyman,” Tango says with a scoff. Then bites off a swear.

    Etho repeats the scoff mockingly. “I did warn you that was your tell.”

    Tango immediately switches to Plan B. “Okay, fine, you got me. I’m the boogeyman. But. I also have a few extra lives to spare so if you let me kill you and get rid of the curse, I’ll give you one right back and then we’ll call it even. Okay?”

    Etho chuckles and Tango’s blood runs cold. “You’re looking better than Bdubs was,” he says. He’s just as casual as ever. “Not nearly as sweaty. Are you just more confident than him? Or does having more lives protect you somehow?”

    “How am I supposed to know that?” Tango demands.

    Etho shrugs and the point of Tango’s sword presses harder into Tango’s throat. “You don’t have to answer me. I’m just thinking out loud.”

    “Well, I’d appreciate it if you thought about my offer.”

    “It’s not a very good one though, Tango, is the thing.” 

    “Two lives!” Tango says. “I’ll give you one right now and the next one after I kill you, okay? You’ll have more lives than you started with.” 

    “Dang, you must have a lot of lives if you can afford to give some away so easily.” 

    “Yeah and if I fail to kill someone and lose all of them, I won’t have any left to give you.” 

    Etho pauses and for one glorious moment, Tango thinks he might have gotten through to him. But the words out of his mouth aren’t exactly encouraging. 

    “I don’t think it works like that, actually.” 

    “W-what makes you say that?”

    Etho’s good eye crinkles. Tango can imagine the grin behind the familiar gray cloth. It’s audible in his voice. “If I let you kill me, then there’s one more life between me and losing this thing. But if I let the curse take you, that’s eight lives I don’t have to worry about anymore. I like those odds a lot better.” 

    Oh. Oh. 

    "I’ll come for you next session then,” Tango vows. “If you don’t let me have this kill now, I’ll spend my entire red life to take every single last one of your lives.” 

    Grian: alright guys that’s the end of the session for today

    Tango doubles over in pain as he feels eight lives wrenched out of his body at once. When he comes back to himself, curled up in a fetal position on the forest floor, Etho is crouched next to him. 

    “Don’t waste your entire life on me,” he advises. “You’re gonna need to do some diamond mining at least.” 

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  • thekracken
    24.09.2021 - 11 hours ago

    ME? HURTING MY OWN FEELINGS? its more likely than you think

    #just idea after idea #I’ve plotted out like three ficlets lmao someone take away my electronics
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  • rjhpandapaws
    24.09.2021 - 11 hours ago

    Differences (Reed1700 thoughts)

    Nines had come a long way since deviating. He was gentler now, he still struggled with feelings, but so did Gavin, so he wasn’t alone in that. He struggled with his new found agency, as did Connor. He supposed that was why they had fallen together like this. Each of them had been in search of someone who could settle their differences. Make them into something would seeing, rather than feeling like faults. Connor found his in Nines and Gavin. Connor on his own was many things, intelligent, compassionate, curious, and dangerous. He was built to chase, to hunt, and kill if needed; Deviancy hadn’t been enough to take that from him. In Nines he found someone who could withstand when the itch in his code became too much and he needed to fight. Who understood what it was like to get lost in the nuance of human conversation, to be feared because of what you were made to be. In Gavin he found someone who could (sort of) explain the mess that were human emotions, who understood that some days it was easier just to not do anything. In Gavin he found someone who needed him. Gavin found a lot of things in Nines and Connor; not the least of which being easy entertainment. More than that though, he’d found two people who hadn’t learned to judge blindly. They were willing to learn him. Of course it had taken him a lot of growth to allow them to try. He’d had a lot of growing up to do. Both of them understood what it felt like to be lost, to be aimless and confused; to know what you wanted to do, and now how to do it. Connor knew what it was like to only ever have people see who you used to be, to only acknowledge the things you had done wrong; and not see the person you had grown to be. In Nines he found someone who could handle the worst of him. On the days he was barely human enough to function, Nines understood that. A voice of reason for them both.

    And Nines? Nines found his meaning in Connor and Gavin. Life was more than being a state-of-the-art prototype. There was more to life than being better than those who had come before you. As they said, it was lonely at the top. There was life in taking a mug away from Gavin because he had just poured his morning coffee into a mug with thirium in it because he wasn’t awake yet. There was life in the way Connor lit up when he saw a dog. There was meaning in coming out of stasis to Gavin on one side of him and Connor on the other. They were three very different people. One who had been broken. One who had been built only to fail. And one who had simply never known better. But what they had together, the  life they had built, that was what counted most. At least it did to Nines.

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  • abusivelittlebunny
    24.09.2021 - 11 hours ago

    Sick in bed thinking about Tommy catching a cold and being in denial about it until he has a meeting with Campbell: Tommy keeps trying to hold in his coughs and dabs away his runny nose with a handkerchief that the old man threw across the table for him after making a grimace at him for wiping it with the back of his hand. He's not looking back at Campbell's prying gaze, his eyes are too wet and vulnerable now, nor replying to his comments about how he's not used to working with snotty brats, trying to keep himself composed and professional, even with flushed cheeks and unstoppable tears and a splitting headache, just trying to get through it with gritted teeth. He tries not to mention that despite all the infantilization, Campbell is still fucking him almost every night and then it's not a problem what a snotty brat he is, but maybe the fever makes his tongue a bit too loose and it slips out as Tommy stands up a bit too fast and the world spins out of control into a dark nothingness. Tommy doesn't recall Campbell picking him up from the floor nor taking him back to his place nor putting him in his bed; all he knows when he wakes up is that he's in Campbell's bedroom with the fireplace lit and five different blankets on top top of him with a wet rag on his forehead. His throat hurts too much to say anything to the grumbling old man coming in, although he took notice of how his steps grew louder when he noticed Tommy was awake - trying to hide how he tried to remain silent to let him rest - and how Campbell brought two more hot water bottles for under the blanket layers besides the two other ones Tommy could feel at his feet.

    "You're nothing but fucking trouble," Campbell grunted and gave his best effort to put the hot water bottles in as angrily as he could to make his point. The careful smoothing down of the blanket wrinkles probably didn't help his case. "Not even able to take care of yourself properly, like a child. And you're supposed to be the fearsome gangster prince, are you? Ridiculous."

    Tommy didn't say a word as Campbell lifted the wet rag on his forehead and placed his palm on the spot to check his temperature; his cool skin felt too big a relief to do anything but close his eyes and purr. The older man let out a sigh and smoothed his hand back over Tommy's hair, combing through it the way he knew Tommy liked, petting him, really, like a cat.

    "I'll get you a colder rag and ordered for some soup; should be here soon. Try not to die on me until then."

    Tommy didn't mean to reach after Campbell's hand as he stood to leave; I was as big a surprise to himself as it was to the older man. Tommy couldn't say "Don't leave me" but he hoped his teary eyes were enough to translate the sentiment.

    "Stupid wretched little boy," Campbell sighed in a voice that was too adoring to make him mean it, cupping Tommy's cheek gently as he leaned back down and pressed a small peck on Tommy's overheated forehead, "I'm only bringing you some honey tea, and I'll be back in a moment."

    This tenderness was not at all what Tommy got used to with Campbell but he wasn't complaining, instead he croaked in a whisper, "Promise?"

    "Yes, you silly snotty brat," Campbell's smile had that rare non-menacing quality to it that always made Tommy feel fuzzy. "I won't be going anywhere. Can't escape you, can I?" The vulnerability in his chuckle made Tommy's belly clench, and Campbell cleared his throat to avoid his voice from cracking as he made his way to the door, trying to act the usual again and failing miserably, "Besides, I don't find you very useful occupying my bed in this manner so you must get better."

    Tommy hid his smile under the covers as he heard Campbell curse himself as he made his way to the kitchen, and the fuzzy feeling from his belly didn't cease when Campbell helped the cup of tea to his lips, or when he fed him soup, nor when Campbell pushed the armchair next to his bed to look over papers in, even though he would have been much more comfortable by the table, nor when Campbell fell asleep there, snoring with his head resting on the mattress, Tommy petting him too, like a cat. He deemed it another symptom of his sickness as he gave a peck to Campbell's temple.

    #Campbell could have just dropped tommy off back at watery lane but no he immediately went guess this is my responsibility now #trying to be mean and mad so the caring doesn't show through #he's still not universal dream hubby material but he is to tommy 2000% #and yes Campbell does fuck the sickness out of Tommy but maybe a few days later when tommy is less snot city #i just love them im sorry #my ficlets #campbell x tommy #peaky blinders#tommy shelby#chester campbell #domestic Campbell makes me rock fucking hard
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  • sorry-i-ship-drarry
    24.09.2021 - 12 hours ago

    Mr. Obnoxious and Mr. Bossy

    Dialogue Prompt No.2- " Try not to die " request by @everlydream | Sorry for taking too long| Fluff ( sort of )

    “So i got a new mission report “ harry fake grinned in success as he entered his shared office room 

    “ oh is that so, what’s it about this time, missing cat?”draco raised an eyebrow at Harry in a returned sarcasm

    “ oh no, no, that is your department, if i end up taking your work you’d be unemployed “harry tilted his head to the side with narrowed eyes and a fake smile

    “ Well at least I don't steal credit, “ Draco rolled his eyes. Harry immediately reduced the distance between them, snapping his hand over the desk “ i did not steal the credit, he just happened to credit me for it “

    “ And you didn’t deny, that is stealing the credit “ Draco taunted. 

    “ whatever you want to believe, i know the truth “ harry flatly replied 

    “ Yeah, like you stole my credit, “ Draco taunted again. Harry sneered at him, blabbering gibberish in the childlike argument. Draco chuckled as soon as Harry left the room with his case report file,mumbling to himself as an old lady.

    They were enemies, of course, the one’s that had unknowingly been pining each other over for years and were obviously unaware of any said feelings and pretended every time that their hearts didn’t race whenever other entred the room, but every single one of their friends knew and had even tried teasing them about it but had always stayed in a state of denial. But then at the end, they weren’t enemies at all, they were just two oblivious people attracted to their so called nemesis. 

    As the days went on harry’s case report became more dense and called more for his attention, his time, resulting in him hardly spending time in his office and as much Draco enjoyed having the shared office room to himself, he kind of waited for harry to walk into the office and have the tiniest of arguments but that didn’t happen; Draco pretended he was fine with everything and proudly told everyone how much he enjoyed not having harry being a pain in the ass. Pity what the actual truth was. He could almost get used to not having Harry around once he gets the promotion he was bound to have but he found himself slightly displeased with the inevitable fact, it was almost as if he enjoyed having Harry around and rolling his eyes at him if he was ever clumsy and tease him for being the chosen one, he enjoyed the little quips every once in a while even when he didn't mention it to Harry. It was almost like he came to the office everyday just so he could pull Harry’s leg but ever since the case report, he had entered to a very lonesome office and he found himself staring into space a lot and more frequently at harry’s unused desk. He wondered if that’s what’d it be like once Harry actually gets promoted, whether he’d visit him casually or would he just be situated in the other wing of the office that he’d only pass by Draco’s wing if he ever needed a junior to talk to or get to the shitty canteen and if he’d ever come to tease Draco or not. It was sort of empty in the office since his report and he had not so subtly asked some colleague about harry’s whereabouts and learnt that he stayed more in the field and would disperse home as soon as his work was done. It sort of made Draco furious and he didn’t understand why, even if the answer was right there inside of him but was dodging off the truth because he was either too scared of it or he felt that it was unethical. He also learnt that harry started remaining in the other side of the office building because of the library a lot and old case reports office because he needed old files and Draco only wished to see Harry again, even if it was an eye roll, to him it’d be a relief to know that his unknown ritual of rivalry wasn’t all broken even when it recently felt forgotten. Draco was upset about it even if he didn’t admit it to anyone or even to himself but he most definitely was. 

    Upset and frustrated, he found himself not so subtly lurking around the library for 3 days just so he’d see harry even if he internally hated himself for it, he just reminded himself over and over again that he wanted to see that stupid round glasses idiotic prat, just once and so with not so much success he finally ran into harry. 

    What he didn’t expect though was harry to just offer a smile and pass by him swiftly into another section of the library. Draco was planted with shock as he watched harry busying himself in the other section, it was almost too frustrating that without having a trail of any thoughts, he stomped behind Harry into the aisle he was in. 

    “ Already sucking up people’s ass for promotion ?” Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest watching harry’s face turn into an amused reaction. 

    “um, excuse me but what i’m doing is called working so i can actually take credit for my own work, also, yeah i talked with Jenna, she’s gonna credit you for the Simmon’s case “ harry genuinely smiled at Draco then again dug into his works. 

    Draco huffed annoyingly as he took a few steps closer to harry. 

    “ Since you’re still standing I’m assuming you need something from me ?” harry raised his eyebrows at him. 

    “Well- if you had to be stuck with being a two goody shoes, you could’ve cleaned up your desk, its an absolute mess and its driving me crazy and i wouldn’t do it for you and you know that “ Draco rolled his eyes accusing him with pointed finger. 

    Harry smiled amused before he nodded “ i’d stop by the office after hours and clean it up if its such a mess “ 

    Draco chewed the inside of his cheeks “ that’s be great “ 

    “Okay “ Harry replied and went back to reading again whilst Draco almost turned around to go back when he shut his eyes and turned around with a whip. 

    “ And i also want don’t want your favor in getting the credit. I can get credit for my own self, i don’t need your help” 

    Harry frowned “ Okay then “ 

    Draco watched as Harry again went back to reading and he wanted to go back but his feet were as if fixated to the place and he didn’t feel as if he was quite done just yet, so he spoke again “ and one of my file is missing, so you better check in your pile of mess and return it back to me” 

    Harry frowned again, sighing this time “ i said i’ll clean, alright. What’s the name of the file ?” 

    Draco froze trying to think of how to reply to his made up lie that would seem true enough so Harry wouldn’t figure out the actual reason he was here. 

    “ It’s uh- the file with- Amrontentia side effects “ 

    “ You really need it? It’s a pretty old file, don’t you think?” Harry countered 

    “Yes- but I need it to sort my files in alphabetical order “ Draco stuttered.

    Harry nodded " fine, If I find it, I'll give it to you "

    And Harry was almost back into his reading when Draco interrupted him yet again that Harry shut his book and arrogantly looked at Draco " you done or is there more to your life I've somehow messed up ?"

    Draco frowned almost wanting to tell him another lie but instead what came out was "you've stopped coming to the office "

    Harry blinked his eyes shut before he reopened them again " and that is a problem because ?"

    " be-because of the- because it's occupying a space for someone who might actually use it" Draco lied

    " Fine, I'll change my office then, that's what you want ?" Harry sighed

    " no " Draco immediately denied

    " Then what is it that you want because you're clearly just standing here making up a bunch of bullshit " Harry frowned at Draco holding an expression of inability to gather Draco's intentions.

    "I- " Draco swallowed " it bothers me that you stopped coming to the office, it's just empty"

    " it's not Empty Draco, there's you-"

    " yes, but there isn't you " Draco slumped down a little bit in exaggeration.

    Harry frowned at Draco until his confusion turned into a soft laugh " And you have a problem with me not being there, thought you Always wanted me out "

    " Well, yes but- I don't know. I just- it's empty and I sort of hate it being Empty because then I have no one to taunt to about the mess because you're not damning there " Draco sighed frustratingly

    "Wow, I did not know it bothered you so much, guess I'll try to come and stop by then,whenever you're in the office then " Harry smiled amusingly at Draco.

    Draco rolled his eyes " yeah, sure that's what I want. I don't know even know why I tried "

    He had turned around to walk away when he pulled by the back of his shirt, almost collapsing into Harry's chest.

    " You miss me then " Harry teased now facing Draco.

    " I don't miss you, I just dislike that your obnoxious ass isn't in the office room anymore " Draco rolled his eyes to hide the faint blush of embarrassment hitting him.

    " isn't that just a fancy sentence to say you missed me ?" Harry teased,again, this time stepping closer to Draco but enough to maintain the distance.

    " I didn't miss you "

    " you're blushing Draco, of course you missed me " Harry chuckled

    " I'm not blushing " but he so was.

    " come on, you lurked around here for 3 days so you could find me. Admit it Draco you missed me " harry laughed.

    Draco swallowed the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from forming a smile and posing an eye roll again to lie " I did not lurk so I could find you, I just happened to be here- because I needed a book. So Harry James Potter, I did not miss you "

    " You just used my entire name, you only do that when you're lying-"

    " I do not " Draco narrowed his eyes

    " Yes you do. You do that when you're lying to me " Harry grinned

    "Fine, whatever you want to believe " Draco shrugged, his back hitting the shelf behind him as he crossed his arms in front.

    " Oh yes, I do believe you missed me, you just don't want to admit it that you missed me " Harry pointed

    " I did not- Merlin, I did not miss you-"

    " it's okay Draco-"

    " but I did not miss you " Draco snapped lightly

    " then why are you here ?" Harry asked raising his eyebrows knowing Draco was lying

    " because of all the reasons I told you before " Draco emphasised.

    Harry looked at Draco for a couple of moments before he stepped back, his hand defensively raised in the air as he shrugged "Alright then, I'll sort those things out "

    " yes, you do that and we're sorted " Draco agreed. Harry nodded in head in agreement and placed the book back in the shelf leaving Draco alone to walk away or just silently be there watching harry.

    In his humongous ego, he had almost walked off but he wanted to say one last time " just for the record I didn't miss you"

    " alright, I know that now " harry shrugged.

    " good " draco bobbed his head in confusion of how easily he dropped off the topic and decided to walk when something didn't feel right and he Walked back to harry.

    " I really didn't miss you " Draco furrowed his eyebrows at harry as he was scanning the shelf for another book.

    " yeah, I know that " Harry nodded.

    " yes, I didn't-"

    " Draco if you keep telling me the same thing over and over again, I'm pretty sure I'll assume you want to kiss me " Harry smirked.

    Draco's mouth dropped open in exasperation as he said " I do not " but the blush that rose up in his cheeks was very much evident.

    " alright " harry smirked, nodding at him and this time turning to face Draco " kiss me then and prove me that you don't want to "

    " what? That's just- absurd- I don't want to kiss you " Draco replied in mocked shock not being able to believe that Harry had said something like that.

    "Seems otherwise " Harry shrugged.

    " what- no- you know what, I will prove you then that I so did not very much wanted to kiss you " Draco replied with each step taking closer to him and stood just before him, grabbed his collar and kissed him over the lips.

    " there, I proved you, I didn't want to kiss you" Draco breathlessly replied after the kiss.

    " seems like you wanted to otherwise you would not have kissed me " Harry smirked

    " You just-nmph-" but the words were forgotten as this time harry leaned in and kissed Draco like he had always imagined it to be like. It wasn't chaste or soft or hard or rough, it was perfect as it was, appropriate and comforting. It was what it had to be and what they'd always imagined it'd be like yet it left them utterly breathless as minute by minute it grew more rushed and harder with Harry's hand against Draco's back pulling him closer and Draco's still loosely rested on his collar.

    In erratic breathing when they separated, Draco immediately pressed his head against harry's neck, blushing furiously and faint smile pressed upon his lips.

    " Seemed otherwise didn't it " harry mumbled with a smile.

    " yo- you're still obnoxious " Draco replied putting his head from Harry's neck and looking at him with a smile.

    " you're still bossy " Harry countered.

    Draco rolled his eye but for once it didn't matter. It Didn't matter what quip it was or how sarcastic it was, the only thing that mattered was he finally kissed Harry.

    " my case ends in a couple days, you can stop missing me then and I have field work tomorrow " Harry teased, his hand still around Draco's waist.

    Draco rolled his eyes " Try not to die "

    Harry chuckled a little too loudly in the silent library that Draco had to put his hand over his lips to shut him up.

    " and you wonder why I hate you " Draco whispered rolling his eyes playfully.

    " you don't hate me, you just kissed me " Harry whispered back grinning.

    " if you're gonna boast about it, then we definitely shouldn't do this " Draco raised his eyeballs at Harry.

    " please, I just kissed Draco Lucius Malfoy, I am gonna wear a sign saying that "

    This time Draco chuckled " you're an idiot "

    " an idiot you Just kissed " Harry teased again.

    Draco shook his head with a smile " an idiot I just kissed "

    Harry stared at Draco a little too fondly for a few moments making Draco blush harder for being stared at " stop staring "

    " Let's go on a date " Harry blurted.

    Draco should not had been surprised by such a sudden ask but he was " Okay "

    " you choose the place, I'll pick you up " Harry added.

    " okay " Draco smiled at harry.

    And harry smiled at Draco " okay "

    " we're gonna date then, you and me "Draco smiled

    "yeah, you and me " Harry replied

    " it's gonna be a disaster " Draco chuckled softly.

    " eh, we always were a disaster anyway. It was about time " Harry casually frowned. Draco looked at him a minute too long before he erupted in little laughter, harry soon joining.

    Yes, they were thrown out of the library for the context, but they did end up kissing, so they had their happy end.

    300 followers appreciation dialogue Prompt requests open
    Angst prompts request open
    #drarry#harry potter #draco x harry #hp fandom #harry james potter #draco malfoy#drarry prompt#drarry oneshot #drarry fic rec #drarry fandom#drarry ficlet#drarry fluff#drarry fic#drarry ask#drarry au#drarry stuff #drarry short fic #drarry ship #draco malfoy one shot #harry potter oneshot
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  • orangepanic
    24.09.2021 - 12 hours ago

    Iroh and Cuzon have a cup of katfa (April, A.G. 174)

    I'm practicing writing in third person and this is what came out. For @the-hopefulpenguin.

    Cuzon nodded across the worn table in approval. "You got fat, Iroh."

    Iroh took a sip of his katfa. It was hot, gritty, and syrupy sweet. "You would, too, if you had something to drink that tasted better than ostrich horse piss."

    Cuzon smiled at that. "You're the one drinking it."

    "I'm being polite."

    "One day polite will get you killed."

    Iroh chuckled and set down the drink. Katfa really was awful stuff; so much so that Iroh had started sending Cuzon boxes of tea out of sheer pity. The man probably put sugar in it, but he didn't have to think about that. There was no helping some people.

    "So how's the Iron Maiden?" Cuzon asked.

    "Iameh? She said to tell you that if she ever sees you again she'll string you up by your balls, fill your ass with sand and gut you sideways."

    Cuzon didn't doubt it. "Really?"

    "Nah," said Iroh, leaning back in his chair. The truth was, Iameh didn't know he'd come. No one did. Some things were better left unsaid. "She's too professional for that. But I can tell she's thinking it."

    "Glad to know I'm not forgotten." Cuzon shifted in his seat. "I heard you got married?"

    Iroh beamed at him. He wasn't really fat, of course, but anyone could see he had the well-fed, well-loved look of a kept man. Good for him.

    "I did," Iroh said with a smile. "I'm sorry, I hope you understand why you weren't invited."

    Cuzon rolled his eyes. "No exiles to sully the royal ball?"

    "You set foot outside SWE I'll have to hang you myself. Speaking of which, I should get back to the ship. We aren't stopping long."

    Cuzon raised his glass of katfa. "Well met, Iroh."

    Iroh met the other man's pale green eyes, then shook his head and raised his own glass. "Life is a funny thing, you know." Then he took a final polite sip of his horse piss, stood, and walked out into the blazing desert sun.

    #just for fun #ficlet#writing practice#iroh ii #commander cuzon (oc) #i just love that they're friends #who kind of hate each other
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