#double drabble
Note
You're not supposed to be this good at lying to me.
Hurt/comfort
“You’re not supposed to be this good at lying to me.”
Tony sat next to Stephen on their bed, keeping space between them. Tony wasn’t sure if it was the act of lying or the lie Stephen had chosen—I don’t need you—that hung between them.
Stephen glanced at him. “Not nice being on the other side of the situation, is it,” Stephen said, tone stiff. Stephen always got defensive before he got apologetic.
“That’s it? Revenge?” Tony asked; his frustration flared. “I lied to you, you lie to me? I thought we were above that.”
Thought they’d agreed that they’d clear the air instead of getting bitter.
Stephen slumped forward to bury his face in his hands. His next words were muffled but Tony heard the quiet “—didn’t know how—” and filled in the blanks.
His frustration faded. Because he understood. Tony never lied out of spite, not to Stephen. He lied because he didn’t know how to tell the truth. How to be vulnerable. How to open himself to weakness.
What a pair of pretty liars they made.
“Try. Please.”
Stephen’s words, when they came, ached with honesty. “I can’t do this alone, Tony. I need help.”
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Eddie’s on a mission when he walks into Family Video.
He heads to the horror section and stops in his tracks when he sees a guy sitting on his haunches, shelving tapes.
Eddie can’t help the way his eyes slide to the guy’s ass— the jeans he’s wearing are criminally tight. And it’s a really nice ass.
He nearly swallows his tongue when the guy turns his head to see who walked into the aisle because staring back at him is Steve fucking Harrington.
He watches as Steve gets up and dusts his jeans off before walking over to Eddie.
“Can I help you find something?” Steve asks.
He has a little mustache.
Steve Harrington has a nice ass and a little mustache.
Eddie did not come here to be attacked like this.
Steve raises his eyebrows and Eddie realizes he’s been staring at him for a beat too long.
“Uh, yeah. Do you guys have Possession?” he asks, throat dry.
Steve looks at him curiously before reaching an arm right past Eddie’s head and pulling a VHS from the shelf. He holds it out for Eddie to take.
Eddie snatches it and makes a beeline for the cash register.
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You Rebuilt My Car
A double-drabble for fest.
--
“You rebuilt my car,” said Bond, stunned.
“Yes,” said Q. “An interesting technical…”
“I could kiss you,” Bond teased.
“Please don’t,” said Q after a nearly imperceptible pause.
His tone was dry and bored. He’d rolled his eyes and was almost the picture of the disinterested quartermaster—who dealt with multiple deadly, flirtatious agents on a regular basis—almost.
Bond’s life, too often, depended on him noticing the things others didn’t want him to see. And right now, there was something that Q didn’t want him to see.
So, he looked.
“You didn’t rebuild the car I dunked in the Tiber,” said Bond.
“Please,” said Q. “It’s still drying out.”
“Nor the Jag 004 crashed in Monaco.”
“Unsalvageable,” said Q. “Not worth the effort.”
“I’d assumed this was too,” said Bond.
“Recreating the original modifications was an interesting technical challenge,” Q repeated.
“I’m sure.” Bond took a step closer. Q held his ground though there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.
“You rebuilt my car,” said Bond, more gently than the first time. “I could kiss you.”
Not a statement.
An offer.
“Don’t,” said Q, eyes moving restlessly, looking everywhere but at Bond. “Not unless you mean it.”
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Headshot
After his death, Obi-Wan time travels back to his undercover mission as Rako Hardeen, right before the attempted abduction of Chancellor Palpatine.
Written for Fandom Empire Prompt Tables 2024 - Prompt: "Lighthearted"
and StarWars100 - Prompt: "Bounty Hunter"
Read on AO3
When Obi-Wan died, he expected to join the Force, albeit with his consciousness intact on account of Qui-Gon’s training. So it was rather surprising when he found himself once again embodied, yet with an unfamiliar face.
After a moment, he realized that the face wasn’t quite as unfamiliar as he’d thought, recognizing it as Rako Hardeen’s.
What an odd development.
Well, Obi-Wan thought, one must make the most of the opportunities the Force presents us with.
So he swapped out the stun rounds for something a little more lethal, and calmly shot Chancellor Palpatine in the head.
Ordinarily, that would never have worked, but since Sidious was both pretending to be a helpless old man and also in on the abduction plot, by the time he realized that it was not the stunner he expected flying towards him, it was too late, and the Chancellor was dead.
This was, of course, sure to cause problems for Obi-Wan, but he’d been a wanted man for the past two decades, so it wasn’t that much of a change of pace for him.
And he would explain himself to the other Jedi soon enough. For now, he had a crime scene to flee.
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ironstrange
“I dreamt about you last night.”
Stephen knows he’s staring, but he can’t stop. Partly, he’s looking for some clue that the dream was just an invention of his unconscious, and partly he’s looking for the warmth, the softness that his dreaming mind had given Tony. Futilely, of course; even if Tony showed him those things, an Avengers meeting is hardly where he’d do it.
After the meeting, Tony holds Stephen back. “Everything ok?” he asks, brow creased.
The words slip out. “I dreamt about you last night.”
It’s a prime set up for a line, but Tony’s concern doesn’t fade. “Prophetic?”
He has experience with prophetic dreams, Stephen remembers. “No. I think…” He pauses to gather the words. “I don’t actually remember the futures I saw on Titan. Trying would probably destroy my mind. But sometimes pieces slip through in my dreams.”
“And I was there last night?” Tony asks. Stephen nods. “Anything significant?”
“No,” Stephen says, but it feels wrong. Nothing happened. All he remembers is Tony’s expression, and yet—
“You want to talk about it? Tony offers.
Stephen sighs, frustrated. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You want to talk anyway?”
It’s not exactly softness, but Stephen’s heart leaps at Tony’s offer anyway. “Yes.”
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Dispossessed
They don’t drift apart so much as never coagulate again.
Celegorm vanishes into the deep woods as hastily as he can manage, before the shock of his Return (“Him first? Of all of them!?”) fully ebbs; if the hounds of Oromë howl in strange voices, they have always been a little wild.
Caranthir builds a house on a quiet hillside, and counts naught but the stitches in his tapestries; he has not ceased to weave since with the first thread he closed his harsh mouth for ever.
Curufin lifts a hammer once—and sees only shattered fingers upon the anvil.
Maedhros lies at the feet of Mercy Undeserved until he remembers how to cry again, then dons a dark veil of his own, padding through the halls of Fui to lend what tears he may, unnumbered as they are.
Ambarussa are never seen again—not directly; a lick of flame, trembling leaves, a fox’s scream; at the edge of perception, copper entwines with fate, glimmering beyond reach.
Maglor returns with pride tempered but unquenched, with a tongue tired of laments, with many deeds of selfless kindness ready for praise, with expectations—and finds ashes, and a land long moved on.
Edit: now on AO3 with some slight changes: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53245837
#silmarillion#the silmarillion#tolkien#silm fic#sons of feanor#celegorm#caranthir#curufin#maedhros#ambarussa#amrod#amras#maglor#double drabble#stormwritten#not entirely thrilled with this one but I'll sleep on it#yes Curufin gets the least text and no clear final location#but losing your craft (your father's craft) is probably one of the worst fates for a Noldo#“Fui” is both a name of Nienna and the name of her halls in BoLT#Amrod and Amras re-embodying only to immediately Fade is kinda a Sigma move#this is moderately darker than what I generally imagine their fates being but the re-embodiment order is consistent#whole lot of headcanons which aren't making it into this snippet which would probably make things clearer
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Caranthir
⌔ Synopsis: Caranthir Fëanorion, before and after the Oath.
⌔ Warnings: Angst, death
⌔ Double drabble
Carnistir he was named for the redness of his complexion, and once again Nerdanel's words rang true when the young prince was often shaken by great outbursts of anger. Morifinwë he was named for his black hair, reminiscent of his grandfather.
Was there nothing else his parents saw in him, he wondered at times, only the likeness of others? No beauty like Maitimo's, no talent like Makalaurë's, not even Tyelkormo's rashness? Who was he in a family of great princes?
And thus anger and bitterness would accompany Carnistir always, born from a desperate wish not to feel so painfully unremarkable.
⌔
Caranthir remains bitter and quick to anger and he also remains alone. His brothers often come in pairs, but he is the one left out, nobody's favourite.
Dwarves he has learned to tolerate, Men he has learned to respect and Haleth is the one he learns to love after he helps her save her people, yet she too leaves him behind.
Mortal as she may be and doomed as their love may have been, Caranthir still grieves.
When he finds death many years after Haleth, his brothers are by his side. Even so, Caranthir feels as though he dies alone.
Thanks for reading! ♡
@feanorianweek
#carnistir#caranthir#drabble#double drabble#silm fanfic#silmarillion fanfiction#silmarillion#cílil writes#my writing#feanorianweek
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𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 🏍️💗
Might turn this into a multi-chapter fic, so please comment if that’s something you’d like to read😊
👋🏼 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 👋🏼
“Don’t even bother, Ope,” you sigh heavily, trying to avoid eye contact with the man you once loved. “You’re married, and I’ve got a life to live.”
“I know,” Opie says, trying not to let his emotions show. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye. Now go home to Lyla.”
Exhaling deeply, he decides to walk away, a stray tear rolling down his cheek as he gets back onto his bike. Just as he’s about to start it up, he hears the roaring of a motorcycle edge closer. Turning around, he notices you jumping onto the back of the bike before it speeds away, the rider unknown but most definitely a Mayan.
A few hours later, you find yourself sitting on the back steps outside of a beautiful bungalow, sipping a mug of coffee as you watch the sun begin to set.
You feel someone caress your back, before they sit next to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” you whisper, turning around to look at him.
“But not as beautiful as you.”
Snuggling in closer to him, Bishop presses a loving kiss on the top of your head. Sighing contently, you can finally breathe.
You’re never going back to Charming.
#sons of anarchy#mayans mc#soa#fanfiction#txt#fanfic#drabbles#opiewinston#opie#opie winston#bishop losa#bishop losa x reader#opie winston x reader#sons of anarchy imagines#soa fanfiction#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy x reader#sonsofanarchy#writers#creative writing#writers of tumblr#writerscommunity#writing#writing community#writers on tumblr#double drabble#200 words
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🍄?
fanfic drabble emoji game
Have a double drabble instead! 💖
"Stephen?"
Stephen looks up at Tony, noting his slightly dazed look. "What is it?"
"I'm gonna be honest with you," Tony starts, "So I saw this… whole bunch of glowing mushrooms back there in your garden room thing–"
"Don't tell me you ate them."
There's an almost comical pause.
"I ate them."
"Shit."
"Yep. They tasted like shit," Tony admitted, "I feel a little... weird. Strange, even."
Stephen glares at him.
"I'm starting to... Starting to think... Do you think I was a fish in another life? I'm pretty sure I'm a fish in another life."
Stephen blinks. That's the most out-of-pocket thing he's heard from someone who's high off of magical mushrooms.
"Do you think I'm more like a goldfish or like… a coelacanth?" Tony continues, completely derailing from the reason this conversation started. "I like coelacanths. They're really cool. Did you know that they thought coelacanths were extinct until one day some dude found it just chillin' around in like, South Africa, and it just went," he pitches his voice lower, "'Hey there, bitches! I'm a-fucking-live!'"
Stephen sighs. "Definitely a coelacanth."
"You think so?"
Stephen nods.
"They have tiny brains."
He stands up and walks over to Tony.
#only one more emoji drabble prompt in the inbox!! writing these off slowly whoop whoop#stephen strange#tony stark#ironstrange#double drabble#fanfic#my writing#fanfic drabble emoji game#ask#j-snapdragon
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𝜗𝜚 Satoru with a s/o who likes to get stoned
authors note: last thursday when i had ‘an experience’ i do not want to romanticize. i thought about how gojo would react to his s/o being high (because he doesn’t use any mind altering substances) so here i am ft. the notes from my phone i tried to use (i barely formed words) / tumblr doesn’t let me posts blogs with pics so excuse the lack of aesthetics
cw: drug use (mari🍃nna), insecure reader, nickname use princess
"Babe?"
"Yeah, princess?"
"Do you think it's weird how you have a girlfriend who likes to get high?"
— Let's be honest, he's probably used to being around high people because of Geto and Shoko (you can't tell me they don't stone occasionally)
— Satoru overall perception is that you're cute when you're high, because you never talk this much about your feelings with him, especially your feelings for him
— For when you're hyperactive, he probably gonna have a lot of fun, hearing you bubbling and trying to get 194829 things done but not doing shit right. Trust, it's documented in his camera roll.
— If you're rather chill and relaxed he totally enjoys cuddling with you and just watching you looking in the distance or taking 3 minutes to finish one thought. He is totally curious about what you think but wouldn't push it. (especially if you get high to destress from something)
— At the occasion of you having a bad trip he's totally there for you and those are the times he especially doesn't condone you consuming things, when they make you feel like this. But also in general if you would ask him, he would probably be anti-substances for you. Satoru understands the double blade of it, but as for something like mariXXnna, he would rather tease you out of it than having a real intervention. (No confrontation babe)
— He also wouldn't 'initiate' anything sexual or even go for it when you're beyond normal comprehension
— He loves hearing you talk about the most nonsense things. You wanna explain him your personal playlist? Why you sorted those songs that way? What each song personally means to you, which is just crazy specific. He is all ears.
— Your personal sandwich maker for your cravings, doing insane combos to impress you and asking for your opinion, being absolutely honored when you praise him like he created one of the seven world wonders (it's just a sandwich but he knows you eat everything up in that state)
— Now that I think about it, Satoru is probably the most quiet when you're high and babbling because he feels like he can hear you without any barriers of shame, that could stop you from expressing your true thoughts (and he will use anything you told him later to tease you and then he won't shut up, trust)
"- like isn't it useless, am i not crazy for taking it and you're judging me like what if you find me weird and you're normal and i'm weird and you see me as usless and stop loving me-" he finds it cute how you're so worried about all of that when he couldn't care less unless it's harming you in any way.
— (I have no idea if it's just me) but when you tend to be overly insecure about your feelings/expressing your anxious feelings, he will not stop reassuring you. Especially when you ask him 18 times if he knows you love him and that your love is sincere etc.He does take your insecurities as a validation of your love for him though.
"Oh my god, do i act like a drunk person? So i may sound like that. WTF i'm so insecure I have to stop. I'm sorry. I love you. Now I'm being quiet. You won't hear me talking. Omg am I more serious when I'm not high. Am I a drunk person?"
— His personal fave moments are when you start to explain for 15 minutes how much you love him and you start to go in so much detail that it's getting ridiculous. He would while all of that hug you from behind and look at you with the most soft look in his face just nodding and chuckling because you make it for real sound ridiculously.
no reposts on other platforms
#gojo x reader#satoru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jjk satoru#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#gn reader#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou x y/n#gojou x reader#jjk gojo#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x reader#tumbr is lacking#double drabble
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A double drabble this time with no angst in sight!
“Is it too late to change my mind?” Tony asked, eyeing the portal with unexpected hesitance.
Stephen snorted. “If you’d wanted to change your mind, you should have left me at the metaphorical altar this morning.”
Tony sputtered. “Not about that. I’m very happy being Tony Strange.”
Stephen couldn’t help but smile at the easy way Tony claimed Stephen’s name. Stephen hadn’t actually asked Tony to take his name, but… well, Tony knew Stephen well.
Tony didn’t notice the smile, too busy eyeing the portal. “I’m just doubting the wisdom of me living in a haunted house. That seems… unwise.”
Stephen laughed. “Tony, you’ve been sleeping in the sanctum for over a year.”
“I didn’t live there,” Tony muttered mulishly.
Stephen moved closer, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist. “Is Tony Stark—“
“Tony Strange,” Tony corrected.
Stephen was going to get heartburn if Tony kept up with that. ”—Afraid of the big, bad sanctum?”
Tony sputtered. “No! That’s not what I was saying.”
“Sounds like what you’re saying,” Stephen teased. He pulled Tony closer and rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Tony. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I hate you.”
Tony might say that, but Stephen knew the truth.
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It takes Steve three days to notice it.
“What in the hell am I looking at?” Steve asks, expression flummoxed.
“That, my dear, is my newest creation,” Eddie says proudly, looking from the yellow painted dachshund/banana figurine back to Steve's face.
He hid it on their bathroom counter, half-obscured by the face wash Steve uses at night. He’s been waiting with baited breath for Steve to find it, lingering by the doorway while Steve washes his face.
Steve picks up the figurine Eddie painstakingly made and holds it in his hand, marveling at it.
“I love him,” Steve says, biting back a grin. “What’s his name?”
“Banana Dog,” Eddie says and Steve wrinkles his nose.
“You can't name a banana dog ‘Banana Dog’. That’s so lame.”
“You name him, then,” Eddie says, crowding closer, wrapping his arms around Steve, kissing his temple.
Steve hums and looks at Eddie’s reflection in the mirror. “He looks like a Jerry.”
Eddie snorts. “Jerry? Okay. Jerry, the banana dog, it is.”
“Tell me about him?” Steve asks, leaning back into his embrace.
Eddie tells him about how the party will meet Jerry and Steve listens on with adoration in his eyes the whole time.
#stwgdailyprompt#steddie#stranger things#steddie drabble#drabble#double drabble#prompt: jerry the banana dog#janai.doc
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Living in the Moment
Also on AO3
@foxquinweek - day 6 (alt): "There are at least 17 ways this could have gone better. Literally. I'm counting them right now, you moron."
@clonefandomevents - Coruscant Guard Bingo: time loop
Fox
Fox is having a good day.
He wakes up after a solid six hours of sleep. The caf is hot and freshly made. He starts his morning already up-to-date on his flimsiwork. He attends a briefing between the Chancellor and several Senators and is entirely ignored. There are no major security incidents. Even the traffic is no worse than usual.
It is a good day. Exactly the same as yesterday, and exactly the same as tomorrow. They are all exactly the same now, barring his own minor variations.
Good days come so rarely; he refuses to let this one end.
...
Quinlan
Quinlan is having a bad day.
He would say that he’s having several bad days, except that is the problem. It is a bad day; singular. Repeated ad nauseum.
Time loops are rare but not unheard of among the Jedi, so it only takes meditation and a few experiments to identify his objective. Unfortunately, he can’t do it alone. He needs the assistance of the Coruscant Guard Marshal Commander.
Said Commander is avoiding him.
Said Commander is avoiding him, in new and interesting ways each ‘day’ so Quinlan knows the man is actively being difficult.
He’ll wear him down eventually.
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Sharing is Caring
Anakin thought that he and Obi-Wan would be having a picnic. Obi-Wan, however, knows that a lot of Jedi will be having a picnic - whether they were invited or not.
Written for Fandom Empire Prompt Tables 2024 - Prompt: "Picnic"
and StarWars100 - Prompt: "Tea"
Read on AO3
“Isn't that too much for just the two of us, Master?” Anakin asked, giving the large amount of snacks and tea leaves a dubious look.
“You have much to learn, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said as he laid the blanket out. “When you have a small picnic in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, it never stays small.”
As if to prove his point, no sooner than Obi-Wan had gotten out the portable kettle, Master Vos appeared, snatching up one of the snacks that Anakin hadn't even finished setting out.
“Got the good stuff this time,” Master Vos said, appreciatively.
“Hello to you too, Quinlan,” Obi-Wan said, slightly exasperated. “The tea isn't ready yet, I’m afraid.”
Master Vos waved his hand dismissively even as he took another snack. “I’ll come back,” he promised.
“With half the Temple, I’m sure,” Obi-Wan said, but Vos had already disappeared off in the other direction.
“He always does this?”
“He's hardly the only one,” Obi-Wan said. “Not to worry, the others will bring more refreshments with them.”
Anakin wasn't sure how to feel about everyone showing up to their picnic uninvited, but then again, he supposed that meant he was allowed to crash their picnics too.
#peppermint writes star wars fanfic#double drabble#anakin skywalker#obi-wan kenobi#quinlan vos#the last few were angsty so have some fluff this time
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there is no sin in what you & I just did
250 words | Mature | Hawk/Tim | First Time Encounters | Religious Conflict | Internal Dialogue | Tim POV
The burden of guilt weighs heavily on Tim for what he's about to do, but for now, he sets aside any conflicting feelings where God and Hawkins Fuller are concerned, along with the cross around his neck.
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Tony calls Stephen beautiful for the first time and Stephen freezes up and blushes and Tony teases him about it pls pls pls <333 love ur writing!!
Thanks so much! I hope this suits. :D
-
Tony is sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and poking idly at a tablet without any real purpose when Stephen wanders in from the bedroom. He’s wearing a gray t-shirt that’s a good two sizes too big (judging by the logo across the front, it was handed out at some kind of conference) and faded blue pajama pants. His bedhead is spectacular, he hasn’t shaved yet, and when he meets Tony’s gaze he smiles the most perfect, gentle smile Tony has ever seen.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Tony says, leaning his chin on one fist and admiring the view. Seeing Stephen so soft is a pleasure and a privilege, one that Tony hopes he never takes for granted.
Stephen goes still for a moment and then, to Tony’s delight, blushes a delicate pink. “You’re blushing!” Tony announces.
“I am not,” Stephen denies, the flush darkening contrarily.
“You are.” Tony leans forward, grinning. “Don’t worry, it only makes you more beautiful.”
Stephen shakes his head, but he smiles as he sets about making tea. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost too quiet for Tony to hear, and there’s disbelief in it, but there’s pleasure there, too.
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