#400 words

[polutrope]

Tales come ahead of the heroes. Of great battles that rattled the bones of the bent world; of Morgoth’s cruel, unyielding lieutenant at last overthrown.

From the wall of his gallery, Turgon takes down a sword and clutches the hilt. It has long fallen into disuse in the distant bliss of Valinor. This blade is not his, was never his, but it hangs here in memory among other precious tokens of a drowned continent that found their way from the mountains to the river and from there across the sea. 

The tales say Turgon’s sword surfaced glittering from the dust of ages; that Glamdring sang death to its foes in the hands of a Maia, leading the peoples of Endor to triumph. 

Turgon, in his felicity, envies Olórin. Turgon, though tempered by the Halls, wishes he might have wielded that blade again. Might have joined his soul in harmony with it, one last time, for vengeance. 

But when the heroes land he does not inquire after it.

Eventually Olórin, elusive and enigmatic as he has ever been, pays Turgon a visit. He has kept that raiment he wore among mortals of an old man bent and weathered. He laughs and gathers Turgon in his arms. 

Turgon invites him in for tea.

“It is not so different here,” Olórin muses, nibbling on a bit of cake. “Thank you,” he adds, in answer to Turgon’s inquiring look. “It is a comfort to take tea with a great lord of Elves.” 

“Ah.” Turgon quirks a smile. “So the annals tell it. I fear that was another life, which I scarcely recognise as mine.”

Their conversation ambles the paths of immortal memory that fears not the passage of time.

At last, towards evening, Turgon asks, “What of my sword? They say you bore it.”

Olórin hums. “I had rather hoped you would not ask.”

Turgon beetles his brows.

“You must forgive me — I gave it away.” 

“Gave it? To whom?” Irritation, a prickle of dishonour, tickles at Turgon’s mind like an old rash. Who is left, worthy of such an heirloom? 

“I left it in the keeping of the Queen of Gondor, your grandson’s granddaughter, to defend your line for many more ages of Men. Did I err in this?” 

“Arwen.” Turgon remembers the name and smiles. “No, dear friend. You did not err. She and her descendants are worthy bearers of that blade.” 

#turgon #gandalf #my fic #400 words

[mhaxwishxgranter]

UA’s Ice Queen

————————

Summary: Y/N is known as the ice queen of UA, and not just for her quirk. She’s ice cold to any and everyone, with a few exceptions.

Characters: Tamaki Amajiki, black!fem!reader

Word count: 406

Warnings: none just fluff all around for Tamaki 💜🐙

Pairing: Tamaki Amajiki x black!fem!reader (established relationship)

Note: Y/N has a twa (Teeny Weeny Afro) in this piece.

Note 2: This piece for Tamaki is long overdue but I hope you all enjoy it!

Tag list/mutuals list: @olenoname @mysticpisces

————————————

Underneath a beach umbrella, Y/N sat, content to scroll on her phone mostly her feeds for Instagram and Pinterest. The weather was humid which made her hairstyle perfect for it. Lifting her eyes from the screen of her phone, just for a brief moment, she could see everyone playing in the water.

Even Tamaki.

She could easily pick him out of the crowd filled with women, men, children, and other students from UA who also came to the beach for a rest and relaxation day.

He was with Mirio and Nejire.

The three of them deserved a day like this. No stress. Just fun.

Ping! New message!

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜: I can feel you staring.

Y/N: Do you want me to look away?

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜: No!

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜 is typing…

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜: What I mean is, I like it when your attention is focused on me.

Y/N: Then I’ll make sure to give you all of my undivided attention later.

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜 is typing…

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜: Y/N-chan! It’s Nejire! I think you broke Tamaki!

Y/N: I’ll come down there and reboot him.

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜: And when you get down here, can you make some ice for us? Pleaseee?

Y/N was known as UA’s ice queen not just because of her natural cold disposition but also because the ice that formed when she used her quirk could last for hours because of how unique it was. Which was perfect for this humid weather where the sun could easily melt regular ice.

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜: Pretty please! Think of your kouhai! 🥺

Y/N might be cold but she was by no means heartless.

Y/N: Alright. Alright, I’m on my way.

💜🐙Tamaki🐙💜: Yay! 😃

Standing up and getting out from underneath the umbrella and stretching as she felt the warmth of the sun from above and the sand beneath her feet, Y/N began to make her way down the beach.

This really was a day of relaxation.

#black female reader #mha x black reader #mha x reader #black fanfic writer #mha #anime x black!reader #black!fem!reader #mha fluff #mha fanfiction #mha fic #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki x reader #word count #400 words

[rockingrobin69]

somewhere in wiltshire

It’s late afternoon and the field is all gold: Harry’s not running, but Draco still can’t quite catch up, fizzy with laughter and crackling with—this, the warmth that his fingers still remember, that was Harry. It’s all the ‘Draco, Draco’s and the ‘look!’ and the sticky kisses, rough like his stubble and sweet like the brambles he picked from the bush (‘try, you have to try it!’)

It’s—late in the season and the day is still warm, fresh after the rain and yellowing on the edges of each tree. It smells like it too, this deep, full scent, not quite yellow but—gold. Rich as the earth and not half as Harry’s laughter, coming in hot in bubbling waves. ‘Look,’ he’s still saying, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, ‘you have a—Draco, there’s a feather, it’s,’ and he’s laughing too hard to do anything. So Draco crawls closer (it’s muddy and brilliant), trails the delicate shell of his ear, the prickly line of his jaw, his lovely, bitten bottom lip.

‘Yes?’ he asks, trying for dastardly and devilish, coming out entirely too fond. ‘It’s what, Harry?’

‘It’s—’ he’s gesturing around them, at the field (gold) at the sky (bright), ‘look, it’s everything, all of it, out here for—’

The smile in Harry’s eyes, the roughness of his soft, soft hand. ‘Yes,’ Draco breathes, meaning, anything, I’d give anything: and the look on Harry’s face says, sweet idiot, you don’t have to.

‘Ours,’ Harry whispers. Draco hums, so over-filled with joy he’s dizzy.

‘Ours,’ when he truly means, yours.

The delight when Harry scrunches his nose, when he comes closer for a kiss but then licks a stripe all the way down his neck: ‘Argh!’ and squirming and helplessly, wonderfully caught, arms around him and only Harry in his eyes. Not golden but—him. The world is brambles and wheat, is clouds and mud, is brilliant, is all, entirely theirs.

‘You—’ Harry looks up with a question furrowed between his eyebrows, and Draco’s heart sings with affection: ‘what?’

‘Nothing,’ Draco lies. Lies on the ground (muddy), breathes it in. ‘Just… come here for a moment.’

It’s late and slow, this understanding, but it’s buzzing like a string of electric lights and lighter still. The field, gold, is endless around them, and the season stretches forever. It’s them, it’s here, it’s entirely true.

(For flufftober day 22. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

#drarry fic #so soft. #it's - it's just so soft #400 words #flufftober #prompt: pick #rockingrobin69

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

my happy marraige, kiyoka/miyo, kiyoka has to inform miyo that her power to dream walk has become personally troublesome

For as long as she can remember, Miyo’s dreams have not been, well, dreams.

They’ve been sad places, nightmares full of regret and cruelty. More recently, they’ve become literal battlefields as Usuba-san helps her discover the hard boundaries of her gift and where it can be pounded and stretched like mochi.

Sleep has often been more exhausting than wakefulness.

The past few nights, however, her dreams have been unsettling for other reasons. Instead of waking in a cold sweat with tears staining her pillow, she’s… hot, her body filled with an unfamiliar ache. Her dreams, usually so clear, are indistinct and fuzzy: A flash of danna-sama’s jewel-like eyes, his breath stirring softly against the small of her throat, a firm body sheltering hers. Underneath his patient hands, her body blooms into a storm of sakura petals.

In the morning, she rouses late and so remarkably well-rested that she almost forgets to apologize to Yurie.

Miyo presses her palms against her cheeks to cool them. Such brazen dreams shame her. Her husband-to-be is an important man with a great deal of responsibility. It is her duty to keep the home ready for his return, not entertain such selfish reveries.

And yet-

Her heart gives a single, longing squeeze.

The truth is that she misses him. Their phone calls have been brief and sporadic the last week, and while she is assured at his eventual return and grateful that he makes the time for someone as lowly as her, his voice alone only makes her miss him more.

She’s truly unworthy to be such a man’s wife.

There’s a racket at the front door as it is violently thrown open, something heavy clattering in the entryway. Miyo follows the sound, startled. Yurie is off today, and danna-sama is not expected for several more days.

And yet, here he is. Panting like he ran here instead of driving his car, his traveling trunk haphazardly lain between them. Her husband-to-be is covered in a film of sweat, hair knot askew and uniform misbuttoned. In several places.

When his eyes land on her, he steps cleanly over his luggage, approaching her with intent until her back bumps the wall. His arms bracket her body, mouth so close to hers that that sweet ache from her dreams stirs.

“If you wanted me home so badly-” His eyes pin her in place-- “You could have just asked.”

#bubbleswrites #my happy marriage #drabble challenge #100 word challenge #that i failed horribly this time around #400 words #but i really don't see you complaining much #miyo projects her dreams to kiyoka unintentionally whoopsie 😇

[frankthesnek]

Prompt 254: Misunderstandings

Rated T: McShep, misunderstandings, interrupted sex, not detailed sex, humor

Fingers danced over his sides, hot breath gushed against his neck, pressure building in his gut flaring out in beautiful spikes of pleasure powered by his partner's movements. He was right there, right on the precipice.

"Fuck," John panted, hands and toes curling against the bed sheets. "Fuck, Rod—Rod—"

"Oh fuck you!"

The speed Rodney left the bed gave him whiplash. The heat of his body disappeared, leaving him shockingly empty in a startling way he had not been expecting. 

"What the hell just happened?" John deadpanned sitting up and looking over to find Rodney already tugging his pants back on. 

"You know, I knew all of you liked him more than me, despite the little ego stroking you all gave me after he left. Yeah, I'm not perfect. Sorry if I'm a little rougher around the edges. Sorry, I'm not as fit as he was," Rodney gestured at the expanse of his body before tugging his shirt back on.

"But this?" He continued scooping up his socks and shoes, shoving them under his arm and not bothering to take the time to put them back on as he headed for the door. "Screw you John."

John scrambled out of the bed quickly putting himself between Rodney and the door, still completely clueless as to what had just happened. "I have no idea what you are talking about," he pleaded, shifting to block the scientist as he attempted to shoulder past him. 

"You said his name!"

Furrowing his brow, John thought. He hadn’t really been paying attention to what he'd been saying, but clearly, he had said something to set the other man off so he tried to recall what it was. He'd been moaning, there’d been some panting involved, and he'd said…

"Rodney, I was not talking about Rod. I was saying your name,"John huffed with a small chuckle.

Rodney did not seem convinced. "Last time I checked I still go be Rodney, not Rod which is what you said. Twice I might add!" 

John chuckled again and rolled his eyes. "I was about to cum, excuse me for not being able to get out the second syllable!"

"Really?" Rodney said, shoulders visible relaxing a little as some of the anger left him.

"Yes really, and I have definitely said that before in bed "

"I don't remember you ever saying my name that way," Rodney countered, narrowing his eyes at the soldier.

"Probably because you never had a reason to care." Reaching out, John took Rodney’s shoes from him and tossed them to the floor. "Now, you gonna finish what you started or leave me hanging?"

Leaning in, he nuzzled just under the other man's ear. "Hmmm? Rod-ney?"

#mcshep #misunderstandings #interupted sex #humor #established relationship #rodney mckay #john sheppard #rod mckay #drabble #ficlet #mini fic #stargate atlantis #fanfiction #writing prompt #400 words

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Microfic: Friends

400 words written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: friends.

“What?” you splutter, staring at me with those big fucking green eyes, so full of hurt that I want to carve my own heart out. “Take a break and temporarily move out? What does that mean? We’re best friends,” you say, hurt and confusion a palpable thing between us.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, stalling for time, “I just…” I trail off, at a loss. How can I tell you that being so near, and loving you the way I do is shattering me? How can I say that it gets harder everyday to keep it bottled up?

“Please, Draco,” you whisper, “whatever it is, just tell me. I’ll do anything.” You’re begging me and my fragile heart collapses like a wet paper bag. “Am I too loud? Do I talk about work too much? Or my friends? I could do a better job cleaning up-”

“I love you,” I blurt, because I can’t bear the thought of you thinking that I don’t want to know everything about you, that I don’t want to hear every word that passes from your lips.

“What?” you breathe.

“I love you,” I say again, it doesn't matter now. I’ve already said it, and anyway, you must already know. “And I know,” I manage through the tears threatening to choke me, “I know that it’s fucking stupid, that-”

“Shut up,” you say and I barely have time to feel vaguely hurt about that before you’re pinning me against the wall of the entryway to our flat and kissing the words from my lips.

I can’t stop the helpless, desperate whimper that slides from my lips as my searching hands cling to your jumper.

“I fucking adore you,” you growl into my mouth before you pull back, your eyes wide and sincere and so, so green. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I laugh, heady and giddy with wonder, “why didn’t you?”

You roll your eyes and I want to kiss you so badly my fingers clench in your jumper.

And then I remember that I can now. So I do.

You sigh into the kiss and I am floating, holding you tight, and at this point I’m pretty sure I never want to let you go.

“Merlin,” you whisper, breath warm against my lips. “Don’t ever leave,” you add.

And I’m sure that it will be no hardship to acquiesce.

#drarry #love #soft #fluff #love confessions #drarry microfic #400 words #sorry I’ve been mia this week #it’s been a week™️ #have something short and sweet though #microfic

[cntrl15]

Don't Marry Them - Cissatrix

Rated T. Incest Pairing June 7th prompt: "Don't Marry Them" from @sapphicmicrofics.

The tailor was excellent, one of the old masters of her craft. Rodolphus could well afford the best for his bride-to-be. Every quibble she solved with a stitch; each iteration more perfect than the last. Cissa sent her away after the seventh adjustment. Even in flawless white elegance, I looked like mourning.

“Why are you doing this.”

I looked into her eyes, and I did not allow myself to look away.

“I have nothing Cissa. I have nothing in this world but you, and that means I have nothing to offer you. The sad joke is, I could lay this whole sorry earth at your feet and it still wouldn’t be worth your heart to me. So I’m going to make a better world for you, and I’m going to take it, piece by piece, and then it’ll all be mine and I can make it yours. Rodolphus is just the first step.”

“Did you come up with that crap just now, or have you been practicing? We had nothing together and we were happy! Do you remember that? How happy we were when there was none of this? When you chased me into the trees and you made those promises to me that you’re about to break? That was the best day of my life, and we didn’t need Rodolphus then.”

“We were playing pretend Cissa! We were children! It’s time to grow up and look around!”

Every word was vile as it tore from my mouth. She shrank from me. There was a silence, and it felt like a precious thing dying.

“I can’t grow up. I was eleven years old Bella. I was eleven years old and I said I want to marry you, I’ll love you forever and ever, and then you fucking turned me around like you couldn’t bear to look me in the face and you whispered the most painfully, achingly beautiful words I’ve ever heard in my life. You wrote those words on my soul, Bella. And I can’t let it go. I’m stuck there, stuck as that stupid little girl in love with her big sister. God I’m so tired of being that stupid little girl. I’ve begged you before and I’ll beg you now, please don’t marry him Bella. I’m right here. I’m right fucking here.”

---

I wore a white dress for my wedding, and I painted my nails jet black.

Part of a series. Each day, 100 words longer than the last. Link to AO3.

#400 words #like break of day #my fic #sapphicmicrofics #cissatrix #bellacissa #narcissa x bellatrix #bellatrix x narcissa #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa black #narcissatrix

[pbaintthetb]

Mini Fic

The problem is that Nie Huaisang has evidently spent too long trying to butter young Mo Xuanyu up. He's told the Jin bastard long and eloquent about how the way he's treated is wrong, about how his half-brother was wrong. About how he was no kind of brother, Nie Huaisang's brother (and technically a half-brother too at that) would never dream of such treatment, would roll in his grave at the thought. About how noble and just Nie Mingjue was, and how he deserved his justice, a man so great, killed so young by a man so foul.

The thing is, Nie Huaisang may have buttered Mo Xuanyu up a little too much and in all the wrong ways. The arm he intends to release onto Mo Village is not looking like it's going to go and wreck havoc anywhere any time soon. Or you know, ever.

His brother's arm, in this moment, is really just an arm. There's nothing demonic about it, it's exactly how Nie Huaisang had always wished this would turn out. Except now it's a problem, because Mo Xuanyu, Nie Huaisang is sure, has several deep cuts bleeding out of an arm that now belongs to somebody else.

Nie Huaisang gently prods his brother's left arm one more time in the vain hope of eliciting some response. Nothing happens.

Well, this situation warrants it. Nie Huaisang swears. He swears long and creatively and enough that even Sect Leader Jiang might raise an eyebrow. (Not Da-ge though, not as long as Nie Huaisang didn't do it in front of polite company at least.)

And it's not even  that Nie Huaisang has to rush over to Mo Village to save a life. Da-ge is a noble man, a just one. A man who won't take kindly to family pushing around a young man, locking him up and treating him like dirt. Honestly, a confused angry and recently awoken Da-ge might even unintentionally provoke the Mos enough to reveal some of the worst parts of them. And justice is swift.

No Nie Huaisang runs to the centre of Mo Village like his very soul depends on it because Mo Xuanyu has damned all his carefully laid plans, scuppered his chance at revenge and brought it all to ruins. And, of course, Nie Huaisang runs, becuase it's been ten years and now his brother is alive.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #i wanted to write a fic where mxy brings lterally anyone else back #my first thourhgts were either JGY or XY and i have fun ideas for both of them but i cba to explain WHY #mxy would do that so have this #maybe i'll write more #tumblr fic #400 words

[flyingpotstickers]

The "Begin Again” au.

Warnings: Panic attacks, trust issues.

Ship: N/A (heavy emphasis on friendship)

Inspired by: Begin Again (Taylor’s Version!)

For @sarahsreesecups who deserves all the things. Ever.

-~-

Her hand is shaking as she reads the small note written on the lunch bag.

"Have a good day at work. I'll see you at lunch! Make me proud, Dr. Charles."

Okay, okay. Breathe, Sarah Reese. It's not the end of the world that Dr. Charles wants to be proud of you.

No, but it is the end that he thinks he can just get away with writing a note that sweet---- Sarah's never had notes like that in her lunch, ever. Not as a kid, and certainly not ... until now.

She pokes his chest with a singular digit, holding the paper in her hand, as she walks to him across the cafeteria. "What is this?" she demands.

"Are you okay?" Dr. Charles' face is full of concern. "Did I do something wrong? 'msorry if I overstepped, but---"

"I just .... need to breathe." Sarah swallowed back a sob as she looked at his face, interrupting him. She came over here pissed off, but now she's as concerned as he was. What did it say about her if she couldn't even accept basic affection?

"Reese, you're having a panic attack."

Connor Rhodes is suddenly beside her, at Dr. Charles' words.... holding onto her hands and keeping her stable. Pulling her into a chair and oh he doesn't know how fucking nice it was to be cared for. Sarah does, though. Sarah does.

"What happened?" Dr. Charles asked at length, when her sobs subsided and she was breathing normally again. "I don't want to ever do that again." The words are earnestly said but Sarah can just smile wanly at him. "I hope you do." she said after a minute of silence, breathing evenly.

"I'm not used to notes in the lunch bag, used to these meet ups. I-- My dad was never there. And you always are, which is great. But I'm not used to it." Sarah looked down. "I'm sorry, I'm broken." She turns away from Dr. Charles and faces Connor: "Thanks, Rhodes. I wouldn't have gotten there without you." she admitted with a frown.

"You're not broken, Sarah." The use of her first name brings her back to staring at Dr. Charles with wonder. "Just because he could not love you, doesn't mean no one can." His hand moves to his shoulder. "I happen to know a few of us already do." This time, when Sarah smiles, it's genuine.

#begin again!au #sarah reese #daniel charles #connor rhodes #cmed #cmed fic #one chicago #one chicago fic #chicago med #chicago med fic #400 words #begin again #taylor swift #ficlet #sarahreesecups

[asheewrites]

So how does Raphael continue with his new foxy roommate? Change in diet? Change in habitat arrangement? Hunting it down looney toons style?

For once, Raphael could do something with his time apart from research. He knew now what his visitor looked like. And what his teeth felt like (painful, but negligible). After looking it up, it made sense that both meat and vegetables disappeared. Foxes were basically omnivores.

Adding a few eggs might be enrichment for the creature. Adding a lot more Taurin might actually help the creature feeling a bit better. As fox-alike as it looked, it might not actually be a fox, but it did eat meat! So it might crave the same things as a fox. On occasion. Whatever it really was.

It hasn't peed anywhere yet. No other excretions either. Very fox-unlike behaviour. But very understandable, if you do not want to be found and understand that concept.

He would continue to ignore that clear indicator to finally report the critter. It was not doing any harm.

He would make the best fox-food for his guest. And maybe a plate instead of a bowl. Seemed more respectful. A big plate. Maybe it would even leave some meat. Six pounds should be too much for any kind of creature of this size. Right?

He prepared and got it into the lab fridge for the evening - the fox would not show up when he was there, after all. Get it out all fresh in the morning.

Fox stories it was! Pax... and the Fantastic Mr. Fox. For starters. Which... would be most comfortably read in the pillow-nest he liked to call a bedroom. Mrh.

"Okay, my dear guest, I will close the window tomorrow, it's getting cold. Last chance, when I come back tomorrow, it'll be closed." Talking to the air was still ridiculous.

To do something less verbal, he half-closed the window - a kind of warning. It... was only fair.

The books were as ambiguous towards Raphael's opinion as any fox-spirit is in any fable... but they were nice. In the morning, the meat and some carrots and cucumbers were set out and he got to work.

...

Many patients and papertrails later, he returned to his rooms and... there was a fox laying on his side, next to an almost empty plate of meat.

Raphael stepped next to him and there was a whine coming from the animal.

"... could possibly have overestimated yourself?" He squatted next to it, looking down with a bit of concern.

#400 words #UnknownVisitorAtLarge #My Raph xD

[theworldwillneverbewrite]

Where I come from,

the rain falls silent. Something as simple as the pattering of water droplets on a tin roof is surprising to miss. To hear the slamming of the sky's tears on the concrete and have the world fill with nature's music is taken for granted. Sound is important in memories. In the present. In the future. It is one of the last senses to go as you leave the gentle hold of mother's arms.

It wasn't always silent. I used to sit late in the night watching pellets zip past the streetlamp to patter off the leaves. The whistle of wind gently altered the taps of the drops like a flutist changed her fingers. She used to play in my ear as the sweetest music and my favorite tune. The making of a unique melody with every storm brought me joy of knowing I could never experience this moment again.

My father used to hold me out in the rain and dance in the puddles. I loved the moments where my cries of laughter cut through the roar of the water. When my giggles and love were louder than the splashing of the pools. How I wish I could still hear those moments.

That day changed things. When the rain mixed with the drum crashes and light. I went to dance with the beat of the claps and I saw my father. I felt the happiness of our choreography as I watched him approach. As he grew closer I saw his countenance. It sent tingles up my back.

He shouted to me. I couldn't understand him as the tingles grew stronger, along my arms and neck. The rain pattered on my face and ran down my neck. The droplets tracing my body were like a mother's touch to know I was okay. My eyes opened to his outstretched arms. Still far, but gaining ground. He reached ahead and cried out my name.

I haven't heard my name in a while.

The crash shook the world. There was light everywhere as I felt icy hot water course through my veins. I never knew that it could be so loud and so quiet at the same time. The ringing surrounded me as my father's arms did. I felt slow. I felt tired. I nuzzled into the warmth my father brought as the chill beads were wiped away with my awareness.

I read it was deemed a miracle. I wish I could hear what they say about me and the rain. I wish I could hear the rain.

But, where I come from, the rain falls silent.

Prompt: Start your story with a character saying "Where I come from..."

#prompted #writing #400 words

[rockingrobin69]

cheese (and strawberries)

They were in the middle of a perfectly nice stroll on the new boardwalk, talking about something silly, that breakfast Harry made with the strawberries, and how he even remembered that Draco liked them best, how did he get them, so late in the season, so juicy and fresh and sweet. How he arranged the table and looked up at Draco with that dopey grin and—

Harry’s wheels squeaked into a stop. “What did you say?”

“Hmm?” Draco glanced over his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

“What was it you said?”

And Draco wasn’t panicking, because Harry was still smiling, same dopey thing, but he definitely had a rapid mental scan to make sure he hadn’t said anything rude, or unkind, or offensive, or ignorant or—but all he’s been talking about were strawberries and that morning and how much he—

“I said I love you.”

“Ha! Just made you say it again.”

Draco huffed, a shocked little ‘ffa!’. Harry leaned his elbows on the armrests, perfectly devious, utterly, disgustingly lovely. “Are you an actual cabbagehead, Potter? I said it at least a thousand times before.”

“And I’d like to hear it a thousand times more.”

He closed his eyes. Breathed in, breathed out, let the brief desire to push Harry off a cliff somewhere ebb and flow and disappear. Then came to lean down so his head was right in front of Harry’s, nose to nose. Almost touching.

“You’re an idiot,” he smiled sweetly, but his voice came out soft, traitorously so. “And a cheat. And you haven’t even said it back.”

“Hmm.” Harry let laughter linger on his lips just a second longer. Then sent out a hand, gently cupping Draco’s chin. “I love you. So much.”

“Good.” He closed the distance with a kiss. “Because I assure you, for this little trick, you’ll be doing the dishes tonight. All week.”

Harry laughed, such a cabbagehead, and took Draco’s hand. “Fancy stopping by the market on the way home? We could do with some cheddar. And maybe a box of strawberries?”

Draco grunted something disgusting or other, rolled his eyes, and walked away. Still laughing, Harry rolled into movement behind him. “Come on, Draco! You still love me, right?” the wheelchair creaked and his laughter, still rumbling, still going, “Draco…”

It was just a nice Sunday morning on the boardwalk. And yes, Draco loved that cabbagehead. So fucking much.  

#drarry fic #400 words #fluff of the tooth-rotting kind #seriously cheesy #draco is outraged. by how precious this is #seething even #disabled harry #rockingrobin69

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

idk if you're still doing these but how do you think the animorphs would do against the original X-Men?

[Obligatory joke about the X-Men having an advantage because they cloned Jake to make Bobby.]

Animorphs Advantages

Trust in leadership. Full offense to Scott, but he can be bossy and overbearing to the point where it causes infighting. Jake's team will not hesitate to go up against impossible odds at his command, and basically never questions his orders in the heat of battle.

Flight hours. Warren might outweigh Tobias by a good 200 pounds, but he doesn't spend literally 15+ hours a day 7 days a week flying around hunting. And Tobias gets very good at taking out bigger opponents like David's golden eagle or the helmacron ship.

Adaptability. The Animorphs can survive in most environments most of the time, and are nigh unkillable. Jean can be taken out by a rock to the head. Scott can be taken out by a rock to Jean's head.

X-Men Advantages

Coordinated attacks. They can and do hit their enemies from multiple fonts at once: Warren goes high while Hank goes low, Jean goes mental as Bobby goes physical, so on. The Animorphs' weapons are all variations on hitting or stabbing their enemies up close.

Sheer raw power. Scott can punch a hole in a mountain. Jean may or may not be able to destroy entire planets. Bobby can make an entire city in the time it takes Scott to level one.

The fact that they actually go to school. Hank's obviously the one with the big advantage over the C- average high school dropouts, but Scott, Bobby, and Jean are also smart enough to be teachers in some continuities.

Animorphs Disadvantages

Distance. This is always their drawback, but they only have melee attacks. Scott, Jean, and Bobby can all attack from half a mile away.

Leaky communication. A ton of their strategy depends on being able to talk to each other without their enemies hearing. Even if they figure out that Jean can hear every word they're saying, they're going to be massively hampered by their inability to talk privately during battles.

X-Men Disadvantages

Compassion. Assuming that this is winner-take-all no-holds-barred fight, the X-Men will not only hesitate to kill, but are likely to stop fighting if one of their own is killed. The Animorphs have no such pangs of conscience, or at least don't let those stop them.

Lack of control. All of them are, to some extent, afraid of their own powers or hesitant to use them. You don't see Rachel beating herself up about what'd happen if she let the beast win or got too much phoenix power.

Conclusion: I'm giving this one to the mutants. Sorry, morphers.

#animorphs #x-men #all-new x-men #a v. x #cavemen vs. astronauts #uncanny x-men #me? spend 400+ words dunking on scott summers? it's more likely than you think #also - apologies for any errors in x-men minutiae #i haven't actually read most of all-new x-men or anything else with the core 5 #i still love brian michael bendis; i just abhor jean/scott so much that i straight-up cannot read them #they are my lifelong NOtp

[jaded-ghoster]

Horikoshi after single handedly carrying the weight on his back of breaking away from the outdated story archetype that the hero mentor must always die for the furthering of their students, showing once again why there are nuances to MHA universe and all the characters in it that’ll never fail to astonish us

#in other words aizawa will live because he solos your favs #bnha #mha leaks #mha #bnha leaks #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #mha manga leaks #bnha manga leaks #mha manga spoilers #mha 405 #bnha 405 #WHEN did we get past 400

[romansmartini]

i love you beautiful horny game

#disco elysium #it’s bad guys. something has set in. #i miss her so bad. designed 4 text based shirts. wrote 400 words of fanfiction in 30 minutes flat. Ok

[natimiles]

Lazy morning with Leonardo

Words: 400

Tags: scenario; morning cuddles; fluffy; established relationship; no pronouns specified for reader; I changed his pet name to “amore mio”.

The sunlight sneaks through a gap in the curtain, waking you up in the morning. You scrunch up your nose in a grimace and try to bury your face in the pillow, but it fails to protect you from the offending light. You’ll have to properly close the curtain, then.

Sighing, you try to move softly so you don’t wake Leonardo up. Frowning, you realize you couldn’t move even an inch; you’re still in the same position, lying on your stomach. Smiling, it dawns on you that Leonardo’s body is almost completely draped over yours, his chest pressing against your back, his legs intertwined with yours, and his arms locked around your torso, his fingers laced with yours.

It’s astounding how you hadn’t realized before just how trapped you were.

Gently, you try to free your fingers, but his grip tightens. As you attempt to move your legs, you feel his intertwining with yours, keeping you in place.

“Where do you think you’re going, amore mio?” His husky voice sounds close to your ear as you feel him nuzzling his face into your hair.

“The sun is hitting my face,” you pout.

Your frustration must have dripped into your voice because Leonardo softly lifts his head from the pillow to look at your face, then at the crack in the curtain. He smiles and flops back down, his grip tightening on you.

“I got you,” he says mischievously.

“What—” You’re interrupted by your own yelp.

He pulls you closer and rolls his body, causing you to pass over him and land safely on the mattress on the other side of him.

“There,” he smiles lazily. “Safe and sound from the sun now.”

“Leonardo!” you try to scold, turning to look at him. But you find it hard not to smile too, soon laughing. “Honestly…”

“No excuses to leave me now,” he says as he brushes your hair to the side and kisses your forehead.

“I still have to get up for work soon.”

“We have time,” he murmurs. “Until then…” He gently kisses your eyelids, coaxing them to close. “Have a good sleep.”

You settle comfortably in his arms, nuzzling your face against his chest, and he embraces you again. You can hear his heart beating steadily, smell the soothing scent of his cigarillos, and feel his fingers ghostly caressing your shoulder and back.

And soon, you’re back to sleep.

Taglist: @bicayaya @silverbladexyz @koco-coko @yamarireads @judejazza @echoes-in-the-forest @chevcore @fang-and-feather

Masterlists

#it was satisfying to have exact 400 words #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp x reader #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp writings #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp leonardo x reader