#ficlet?

[anarcoqueer1994]

Give me the fruity 4 all hanging out after Spring Break, and Eddie whips out a joint. And Steve may be very aware he is bisexual and very much into Eddie. Nancy and Robin watch in disbelief as Steve, in his smoothest voice says "I've never done this before. Can you help me, Eds?" As he honest to God bats his eyes. Robin and Nancy know damn sure that Steve has done this before and does not need help. But they watch on as Eddie malfunctions while trying to shotgun with Steve, who knows perfectly well what he is doing.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #fruity four #bisexual steve harrington #ficlet?

[clockwayswrites]

There was that post going around (that I'm too lazy to find) about the mother who gave her son a shovel to go dig and his whole mood improved.

In a no capes AU that would 100% be Bruce with Dick.

Bruce, intellectually, knew that children were high energy. He understood that adopting Dick meant a great number of life changes and responsibilities. He didn't expect the tornado of energy that was Dick.

See, Dick, being a circus kid, was used to always moving, doing having a task. If he wasn't performing he was practicing. If he wasn't practicing he was helping around the circus. Even on the road there were uniforms and nets to mend and animals to tend to and-- well, Wayne manner is all very calm, isn't it? And poor Dick is hurting and angry and needs to do something.

The gym Bruce installs help, but that isn't enough-- that isn't a task.

One day, in a fit of exhaustion and much needed rest, Bruce goes out to the shed attached to the garage, grabs a shovel, and hands it to Dick.

"Alfred is planing to plant a vegetable garden, why don't you help him dig the plots."

And Dick is off like lightning.

Alfred raise one far too judgemental eyebrow at Bruce. "Am I now, Master Bruce?"

"Hn."

They quickly learn that they have to tell Dick very clearly where to dig and how deep or they'll have to get a ladder and pull him out of a hole halfway to the cave system under Wayne manner.

(Bruce has nightmares that night about Dick being lost to the caves.)

And so the manor gains a garden, Dick learns how, a bit, to be a child outside of the circus, and Bruce actually gets to do some work. It's several months later when Alfred comes to Bruce.

"While I understand that the garden has been useful.... enrichment for Master Richard, I do think that perhaps you should inform him to stop digging."

"Wonderful timing, Alfred. I'm about to be in China for a month. I'm sure that I could extend the trip to two, maybe three months if I tack on some service work in South East Asia and visits to old friends."

"...perhaps an orchard wouldn't be remiss."

#dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #batfam #ficlet? #promt? #something

[idontreallyexistyet]

Hitman!John Dory blurb

It’s his brother, he shouldn’t be scared of him. That’s the thought that John Dory had been repeating to himself for the past five minutes as Floyd went on and on about how happy he was to see JD again. “I’m glad you’re okay” Floyd continued “I really missed you. I mean I missed everyone but, 20 years alone does something to a troll y’know?” JD paused at that and looked up. “Me?” He snorted with his eyebrows raised. Floyd looked a little hurt at the reaction but didn’t say anything, simply looking at John Dory like he was a scared animal, he offered up a smile and stepped closer, raising his hand ever so slightly to touch John Dory.

The scar around his neck tingled, the hand brought itself closer to his face, it was muscle memory at this point; he had done it a million times before.

Without thinking John Dory grabbed the wrist of the troll in front of him and in one fluid motion had him slammed face first into the ground, knee on its back and arms pulled behind him. It wasn’t until he heard a gasp of pain, and the cracked, scared voice of Floyd that the darkness around his vision dissipate. “John..” a shaky gasp “John Dory?” Floyd whimpered, confused “that hurts”

That hurts. Over and over, the words flew around his head crashing into his skull, imbedding themselves into his skin like knives; the scar around his neck tingled. But it was nothing compared to the face of his brother underneath him.

That hurts. It echoed through his ears as he backed away, pulling down his goggles and trying desperately to make it back to Rhonda. The words clawed at him, scaring every inch of smooth skin that was left.

That Hurts. It whispered as he curled in on himself in the driver seat with shaky breaths.

God…. That’s he was good for now wasn’t it? Hurting people. It was a mistake to come back here, it wasn’t worth it. Not worth it at all

John Dory kept his goggles in place as he felt the few tears slide from his eyes and into the plastic underneath them.

Why was he only ever good when it came to hurting people and tearing families apart?

(@lemony-and-zesty)

#Hitman John Dory #John Dory #Floyd #Trolls Band Together #Trolls Band Together au #Angst? #ficlet? #blurb

[red-sneakers]

Technically, I got my first kiss in a Jeeper’s Play Place when I was four, and I think baby Kacchan and Izuku fit well into that story.

I made friends easily as a child, because I’d invite them to play make-believe games in which we were already friends. Already wizards in training. Already partners in crime. No getting-to-know yous necessary - it’s time to save the princess!

The boy I met in the Jeeper’s ballpit was different, because he took the lead right away. Bossy little shit. I would have minded a lot more if he weren’t so imaginative. So, instead of characters in my story, we were characters in his.

I crawled after him through colorful tunnels, static sparking on my sweatpants as they dragged across plastic. I don’t remember what we were trying to fight or who we were trying to save, just that the stakes were high and so was my little heart rate.

And then, for seemingly no reason, he stopped. Turned around. I opened my mouth to complain — we were on a mission here! — and then he kissed me.

It was wet. I don’t know how it was wet, because it only lasted a second, but it was wet enough that I said “blegh.”

Still, he kissed me! Just like the princes in fairytales! Stories about love were the best of all, so how exciting to be just like a character in a love story!

After that, I chased him around the Jeeper’s Play Place for what what felt like hours (and was probably only a few minutes) trying to get another kiss, but I never caught him.

#feel free to reblog #bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #decchan #katsudeku #kacchan #ficlet? #ficlet

[red-dead-sakharine]

A story told with gifs (or something)

It has been proposed that Raphael might have a soul like mortals do. So let me set the scene:

You gave Raphael the crown, he went on his little war, but eventually Asmodeus had enough and snapped his neck.

To his own surprise, he (his soul) wakes up in the Fugue plane.

He has no god to claim him, to bring him onto greener pastures. He will not take a deal with any devil - how dare they even ask him! He is trapped here. A lost soul, doomed to wander the fugue plane forever.

Alone and abandoned, he has a lot of time to reflect. A lot of time for regret. To mourn his life, to curse his own mistakes. To think of all the things he could've done different. His own hubris. Raphael's folly.

But at some point - he has no way of telling how much time has passed, but it feels like an eternity - there is something tugging on his soul. An invitation. A call to answer. To come back. To return. He feels... hope. He hesitates at first. But whoever is pulling on his soul, and why ever they do it - whatever they want with him, can hardly be worse than this eternal, maddening, desolate solitude. He is ready to leave this place. His soul is willing.

Pain. Hot. Cold. There's a ringing in his ears. Everything is dark for a moment, then blinding bright. Then... he lives. He needs a moment to take his bearings. How long has he been gone? Who brought him back? As he catches his breath, he spots a pair of boots; his gaze follows them upward - there's a scroll held tightly in a hand, it's magical properties gone, the parchments starts to crumble.

Finally his eyes meet those of his saviour. His little mouse.

Prequel

#bg3 #raphael #gif set #fanfiction #of sorts #ficlet? #giflet? #I'm not sure what to call this #but I had to write it #totally didn't spent way too much time making fitting gifs #I'll leave it up to you if this only resurrects his mortal part because I genuinely don't know #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #rds #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3

[steventhusiast]

working on a oneshot where steve is autistic and i just think he is so... this is steve to my brain

he got diagnosed as a young kid, then got put through shit tons of therapy by his parents to learn to hide his autistic traits, and moved schools so none of his peers would know. and he grew up so ashamed of these parts of himself because of the sighs his parents would give him when he stimmed or showed these traits, that he never told anyone. not nancy when they were together, not jonathan, not dustin when he saw him as a younger brother, not robin his platonic soulmate, and not eddie.

he hides during meltdowns so they don’t know he’s having them, and he sits on his hands during movies so he doesn’t flap them, and he mouths words and phrases to himself instead of repeating them out loud. he’s quietened his neurodivergent traits down as much as he can.

but robin still quietly suspects, since she’s autistic too. eddie still worries about him when he disappears after too long in the arcade with the party. dustin still notices when he glances over at steve during drives and sees him mouthing to himself the words someone in the car just said. nancy still wonders why he seemed offbeat and much quieter than usual after a long day at school.

so even though he never told his friends, they still support him as much as they can.

edit : it’s been posted

#autistic steve harrington #stranger things #headcanon #steve harrington headcanon #ficlet? #he is so skrunkle #platonic stobin #i love stobin so much #steddie #autistic robin buckley #mywriting

[more-better-words]

Hey, remember when Trip and T'Pol got engaged?

(They won't leave me alone)

Trip let out a surprised little laugh. "Huh. I guess we're engaged now."

"So it would seem," T'Pol said.

"I feel like we should celebrate somehow." He thrust his tongue into his cheek, mouth pursed thoughtfully. "Any ideas?"

"Well," she said, "on my last leave, I did acquire several bars of Belgian chocolate. I'm told it's quite high quality."

He smiled a slow, intrigued, comprehending smile. "Did you now?" She nodded. "And here I am, with that bottle of scotch Malcolm got me for my birthday back in my quarters."

"Perhaps you should go get it," she said guilelessly.

"Maybe I should," he agreed. "And then what?"

She shrugged. "Whatever feels appropriate."

"Uh-huh." He turned, then paused right before hitting the door control. "So lemme get this straight - you're suggesting that we celebrate this momentous occasion in our lives by gettin' wasted and playin' grab ass?"

It was times like this that her ability to keep a straight face was his favorite thing about her. "I believe that I am."

He, on the other hand, could not have kept a straight face to save himself from a court martial. He grinned broadly. "I like the way you think."

#ficlet? #drabble? #what should we call this? #trip x t'pol #star trek enterprise #my usual fluffy nonsense

[youchangedmedestiel]

This gif is funny to me because Cas winks at Dean (for the first time I think, well probably Endverse!Cas did too, but it's not the same), and Dean's reaction here is priceless.

Imagine. Just imagine and ignore what Cas says here. What could be going on in Dean's mind based on the faces he makes? Here's an idea:

"Shit, he winks now. Yep, it's the end for me." And then off camera it keeps going, Dean can't stop thinking about it, "I can't resist him if he winks at me like that. Fuck. No no, no fuck. Arghhh. Please send help. Sam is there. Think about something else. Anything. Yes, that's better. No, don't look at him. Shit! He is a dork and so fucking cute and hot, all of that at the same time. How is that even possible? Oh, I'm so gone for him. Cas, please stop. But keep going, I need more."

#destiel #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #human!cas #my beloved #spn 9x09 #Holy Terror #dean loves cas #cas loves dean #they are just flirting here #ficlet? #crack? #canon? #I don't know what that is #what's going on in dean's mind #I really wish I knew though #maybe i'm right #who knows #at least I had fun writing this silly thought #my random thoughts about destiel #destiel gifs

[anarcoqueer1994]

Eddie likes how sweet and protective and kind and brave and every other nice quality about Steve Harrington. But he also loves how truly bitchy and catty his boyfriend could be. Like especially after both of them make the brave (and truly dumb choice) to be open about their relationship in a small town like Hawkins. Steve’s parents had already disowned him and everyone already thought Eddie was a freak so hiding seemed stupid.

Like they went into a diner for lunch and some guy that used to be on the swim team with Steve made some homophobic comment about Steve only being on the swim team to stare at naked guys in the locker room. Of course, Steve was quick to belittle him and embarrass him in front of his girlfriend, picking him apart with knife like words.

Same thing happened when some girl around their age made some shitty comment about Eddie being a freak and murderer and her friends laughed. She graduated with Steve. He proceeds to tear her down with ease, picking apart her makeup and hair care routine and her entire fucking personality.

It was truly wild for Eddie to see the shift from his nice, sweet baby girl boyfriend to an absolutely devastating mean girl. And he couldn't help but love how the sharp hurtful comments shoot out of Steve's mouth when they are aimed toward would-be bullies. And if that meant Eddie would pull him into the nearest dark empty spot and show him how much he loved that mouth, so be it.

Because Steve was sweet, kind, amazing, but Steve is also a bitch.

#steddie musings #steddie #stranger things #ficlet? #steve harrington #eddie munson #mean girl steve harrington

[scaryscarecrows]

Bruce only spots the man because of a flickering sign behind him, but the how doesn’t matter here. What matters is that after four days of chasing ghost stories and rumors, he’s found something that could lead him to Jason. That’s the man that shot Deathstroke. He knows something, and Bruce wants to find out what.

Catching him is, of course, another matter. They stare at each other across rooftops for a few seconds before the man (short, gas mask, red goggles, armed) turns, takes a running start, and leaps off the roof.

Bruce gives chase.

He moves like the League, like Bruce, and while the Militia has had people that move similarly, none of them were quite like this. Unfortunately, Bruce has chased down more than his fair share of, in the words of the GCPD, ‘crazy-ass ninjas’, and he’s not letting this one go.

The chase takes them to a higher rooftop in Ryker Heights and finally Bruce gains enough of an advantage (a place to use the grapnel boost), launches himself skyward and dives back, crashing into the smaller man and driving him through a crumbling skylight. They hit the ground in a shower of glass, but it’s not over yet: the man’s boots have knives at the toes and he’s kicking up and out, squirming free and drawing his firearm.

Then things get worse.

From behind them there’s the WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRR of a minigun warming up and Bruce has seconds to drop a smoke pellet and dive aside before bullets spit out from the darkness and a deep voice laughs and mocks, “Run, Bat, run!”

The man he was chasing is breathing heavily. The minigunner stalks forward. He’s a big man. There’s been a few like him, too, but he’s bigger still. Unlike the other one, he’s not masked, which means the facial recognition in the cowl can find him.

Trent Ages. Mercenary. Interrogations expert. Extremely dangerous.

You don’t say, Bruce thinks, grappling into the rafters. Lovely. One of them was manageable. Two is…still manageable, but it makes this harder. Minigunner’s the more dangerous one, he decides; that gun will cut him to pieces, and the disruptor will only work a little. There’s a fuse box over there, though. If Bruce can get him over there, he can use that against him–

There’s the crackling of speakers and an unfamiliar voice rings through the office.

“You get one chance to get the hell out.” Man’s voice. Bored. “You gonna take it?”

There. A small, red dot: camera.

He destroys it with a Batarang and the man sighs.

“He’s in the rafters. Fucker broke one of my cameras.”

The minigunner aims upwards.

“I’ll avenge it.”

WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Ah.

He swings to a new vantage point, then another, and then one just above the smaller man he’d chased here. Readies the REC gun. Sends the minigunner careening across the room while he drops down, grabs his friend, and grapples back to the roof.

“Where is the Arkham Knight?”

Whatever response he was expecting, laughter wasn’t it. He shakes him before slamming him against a low wall and forcing him back so his head’s hanging over it.

“I’m asking nicely.”

The man only laughs harder and goes slack. He’s not nervous, according to the cowl. He genuinely does not care.

“You shot Deathstroke.” That, at least, shuts him up. “Is the Knight dead?”

There’s a long silence before the man nods. Bruce’s heart falls out of his chest as his vision narrows.

No no no no not again not again–

THWACK.

Bruce is out before he hits the ground.

#ficlet? #wip? #don't know #arkhamverse #riley dylan #batman #trent ages

[foxybananaaaz]

I know I'ma regret this. #9 for the angst prompt!

● Golden Thread ●

《 “Of all the times to tell me, why now?” 》

ANGST ONELINER PROMPTS FOUND { HERE } Send an ask with a number

Summary :: A conversation between Feyre and Elain doesn't go as planned.

Pairing :: SQUINT Elucien

Word Count :: 1k

Authors Note :: It's been so long since you requested! BUT I have been trying to figure out the right way to write this. I'm sorry you waited forever! But here we go!

“You aren’t who he would have chosen as a mate.”

Before the words had even fully sunk in, Elain had turned her head to her younger sister, only to see shock, mixed with frustration on her face. It wasn’t until the words, and their meaning, settled into her mind, that she fought, and failed, the urge to flinch back.

“That didn’t come out the way I meant for it to.” Feyre spoke up again, fully aware of how her original statement affected Elain, even though she wished it wouldn’t have.

Elain, proving to be more stubborn than either her sisters remembered, especially surrounding this topic, simply turned her head, and looked away. She hoped to give the impression that she did not care, nor did she wish to discuss him.

He was visiting, of course. Elains sisters only ever brought up the subject whenever he was around, but not near.

“He thought he had a mate, but the bond never snapped into place.” Feyre spoke, as though Elains dismissal of the topic had not happened.

Closing her eyes, she fought against the surge of jealousy that reared its ugly head. It was not hers, it did not belong to her. The emotion came from that thin golden thread that came from the deepest part of her being, and connected her to the red haired male. The emotion, though she knew what it was, and why it was there, was foreign.

“They loved each other so deeply, they genuinely believed they were mates.” Elains younger sister continued. She continued, ignoring, or just not knowing, the jealousy growing.

Elain hated it. She had no right to react this way. She did not wish to react this way. Yet here she was, jealous enough anyone who did not know the situation, might think that she had not ignored that thread.

“Clearly, they are not.” Elain clipped back. Her words, sharper, her tone, harder than she had planned. She hadn’t intended to respond at all, yet she could not help it.

“No. They aren’t.” Feyre responded, seeming to finally get a sense of where Elains mind was at. “It didn’t stop him from believing she was, even in the centuries after her death.”

Elain, as much as she loved to believe she was great at controlling her reactions, when it came to the golden thread, or him, she had a hard time keeping any reaction to herself, especially when she could not control it.

There was a small flicker of relief at learning this unknown female that he loved so much, had wanted to be his, had wanted the golden thread to tie him too instead, had no longer been alive. She couldn’t help it. She desperately hoped her face remained neutral. What kind of person had any sort of glee learning someone had died, no matter how long ago?

But there was one thing Elain could not figure out. This was not her sister's story to tell. She knew why her sister was telling her. Elain wouldn’t speak to him. But it still wasn’t Feyre’s story to tell.

Beyond that though, Elain was curious.

“Of all the times to tell me, why now?” Though she asked, she refused to look at her sister. Asking the question may have been too much, letting her sister think she was giving too much interest in him. Turning her gaze to her sister wouldn’t help Elain.

“I thought you should know, you aren’t the only one who found yourself in this bond, having had hope for a past love.” Feyre responded.

It was the first time anyone had mentioned, even though indirectly, Greyson, at all since the war. What he had done, had said to her.

He was the reason Elain had started ignoring the heartbeat she could still hear. Greysons cruel words, and the harsh way he spoke to her was the reason Elain would not look within herself, knowing she would only see the golden thread. The way Greyson had broken her heart was the reason Elain refused to look at the male with the red hair.

Refusing to listen to her sister any longer, Elain stood, and walked out of the room, without another word.

She was tired of everyone expecting her to do something about her situation. She couldn’t even try to distract herself, like Nesta could, without this situation ruining it.

Maybe she hadn’t done anything because maybe she may want to be happy like her sisters one day. But that day kept getting pushed further, the more her sisters brought up the topic like she should take pity on him.

Elain hadn’t realised where she was walking, hadn’t caught the flash of red through the window, hadn’t heard his laugh as she turned the corner. She wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.

Yet, when Elain had entered the town house, thinking she might be free of the entirety of him, she ended up face to face with him, barely registering his human friends.

He still had the laughter in his eyes, though it was quickly dying, as he realized that it was Elain who stood in front of him.

Elain couldn’t help the longing, the pain, the sadness upon seeing how quickly his laughter and joy died. She did that to him. And this was the worst part of this bond. The guilt, seeing his expression fall, anytime he saw her.

Though, now, her mind had something new to supply, seeing the fallen joy. Even though her sister hadn’t meant it in a way to be painful, her words came back, which added more uncontrolled, and unwanted pain in Elains chest.

‘You aren’t who he would have chosen as a mate.’

Without saying a word, Elain turned on her heel, and walked back out the front door, completely forgetting why she had come to the town house to begin with.

The only thing on her mind was how Lucien Vanserra’s face always fell, whenever she came into the room, and how it was probably because she wasn’t who he wanted.

THIS, is the first thing I've written in a while! It's short, sorry. But also, tried to keep that angst. Hope I did well?

#you wanted angst? #heres angst #NEW FIC #ficlet? #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acotar #elucien fanfiction #a court of silver flames #shae writes fanfic

[beedomexf]

Pictures

After surviving cancer she decides to take back control of her body. She books a boudoir shoot, buys new lingerie from Victoria's Secret, and gets her hair and make up done by professionals. She loves the results. Wanting to show them off for the world and no one at all at the same time. She gets her favourite ones printed smaller, pops them into a frame, and hangs them on the inside of her closet.

Months, years, go past and even although she sees them every day, she stops noticing them.

Mulder pops round for Chinese and case files one evening. After a couple too many beers Scully offers the couch, and tells him to grab a blanket from the top of her closet while she makes up the couch.

He opens the door and sees the pictures, he's instantly sober and hard as rock as soon as he registers what he's seeing. He's frozen on the spot just staring at his fantasy come to life.

Scully walks into her bedroom to see what is taking so long.

"Mulder?" She freezes remembering what's hanging in the closet, what was supposed to remind her to live the life she has back, that he gave her back. She blushes and begins to stammer, trying to explain.

"Scully. They're beautiful. You're gorgeous."

He walks over to her and slides his fingers into her hair. His fingers massage her scalp as he leans down and she pushes up on her toes.

He doesn't sleep on the couch.

#msr #x files #xf fanfic #scully #mulder #ficlet? #my first fanfic

[golden-rats]

Prompt: Swiss x Rain - bathtub encounter - that is all.. everything is flooded.

I'm so very sorry it took so long! It's not my best but I tried getting myself out of a little art/writers block. I hope you'll enjoy regardless :)

Words: 1.2 k Warnings: NSFW so MDNI Tags: Bathtub sex, no preparation, crying

Oh how Rain loved bubble baths. Especially after a full weekend of practice and shows. It was his time to wind down. Just getting soaked in all the warm water, sweet scented petals floating alongside the fluffiest white foam, aromatic candles being lit all around him. This was peace. 

If they didn't all share a community bathroom. Well, at least that was the only one with a tub. They all had their own little bath connected to their rooms. But it was mainly used to get ready in the mornings, not very spacious.

Usually that wasn't an issue. They could lock the room and it rarely happened that multiple ghouls wanted to use it at the same time. 

Of course it was different today. And to the water ghouls surprise, Swiss stood in the doorframe. Naked. Well, he did have a towel around his waist. But Rain refused to let his eyes wander down deeper than his chest. Covering his face with his hands. Why? It's not like he hasn't seen everything the ghoul had to offer. Felt it even. But somehow this felt.. private? It was unexpected.

"Ah shit, sorry. Didn't know you were in here Rainy." Turning right around to leave, his hand lingered on the door handle for a bit too long. Glancing over his shoulder to the blushing water ghoul. Wanting to catch a last glimpse. 

Shaking his head, hair loosely tied up with a few strands framing his delicate face, Rain took down his hands. "It's alright! Uhm… The tub is big enough for two, you know. I mean, if you want to. It's fine if not. I wouldn't mind. If you don't mind."

Swiss lips curved into a smile. Crossing his arms in front of him as he turned around. Eyeing the ghoul as he stepped closer. Slowly. "My my, I didn't think you'd be into that, Rainy." He was just teasing. Getting his friend flustered was too easy.

"Oh shut up Swiss.." Rain could barely hide a smile. Shifting his position to make some space for the other. He let the towel drop from his hips onto the ground. Stepping into the warm water and lowering himself between the water ghouls legs. Leaning back against his chest.

"You really know how to set up a relaxing bath.. Must be nice to never run out of hot water eh?"

Rain wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in Swiss hair. Letting out a content sigh. Feeling the multi ghouls chest rise and fall under his touch. Swiss hands tracing patterns on his thighs, raising goosebumps wherever his fingers ghosted over. His head falling to the side, resting on Rains shoulder. The small ghoul kissing his neck, feeling the pulse beat under his lips.

"Mhm~ Rainy you're driving me mad with this, you know that, right?"

"Maybe." A soft giggle against his skin. The embrace tightening.

Swiss shook his head lightly. A grin spreading across his lips. Pressing his lower body more against the other ghoul. Teasing. And immediately noticing the desired effect. Feeling Rain rolling his hips. Water swaying around them. 

The multi ghoul let his tail trail up. Across the stomach behind him. Over his chest. The tip flicking against sensitive nipples. Drawing a surprised yelp from the sweet ghoul, followed by a shuddering exhale. 

"Swiss I-" He was cut off by the hands of the mentioned ghoul reaching for his. Guiding them down until he could feel between his legs.

"You see what you're doing to me Raincloud?"

A blush tinted the water ghouls cheeks and the tips of his ears a nice purple against his soft blue skin. Grabbing at the hardening dick before him. Feeling his own still pressed against Swiss' behind. 

"Will you help me with that?"

A nod.

Then the multi ghoul smiled once more.

"That's my sweet boy.." 

And with that, he turned around. Maybe a bit too quickly, letting water splash over the sides of the tub. Leaning over and placing his hands left and right of Rains head on the wall tiles. Flustering the little guy even more.

Then he sealed their lips. It was a careful kiss. Growing passionate with time. Working together with hands roaming over the towering ghouls chest. Rain spread his legs so his lover could fit between them more comfortably. Their dicks touching as Swiss came closer. Drawing a soft whimper from Rain, caught in their kiss.

The water ghoul lifted his hips slightly. An invitation. Taken almost to quickly as an arm snaked around his waist. Supporting him while simultaneously dragging him closer to the other.

"You're so good little one. I'll reward you by turning you into a puddle."

Rains hands gripped tightly onto the shoulders above him. 

"Surely you don't mind taking me fully right away?"

The smaller ghoul couldn't even answer. His lips parting in a silent moan as he felt the tip entering him. This angle made him feel too much too quickly. He held on, squeezing his eyes shut as tears were forming in their corners. Swiss was sinking deep, filling him, stretching him. It hurt. But it was a good type of pain. Mixing with arousal and pleasure. The water mimicked their movements. It even seemed to start bubbling as the multi ghoul started to move. Reflecting the bubbling feeling arising in Rains chest and stomach.

“S-Swiss…” It came out half a sob, half a moan. It was incredibly erotic. Turning Swiss on more than it probably should. Increasing the speed of his thrusts. Waiting for a second every time he reached the end. Letting Rain warm him.

Claws started to dig in and break his skin. The little ghoul desperately trying to stay grounded. Hold onto. Drawing a growl from the multi ghoul. The rhythm of his thrusts stayed the same, yet they got deeper. More harsh.

The air around them filled with thin fog. As Rain got stimulated more and more, his body temperature rising, his mind clouded and dizzy, voice getting raspy- The water ghoul turned the bathwater into steam. Getting carried away. “You like that baby? You wanna come?”

He nodded.

“Use your words princess. You have a mouth. I heard those pretty sounds.”

“P-Please…” Another thrust.

“Please what?”

And another.

“...Let me come. Please l-let me come!”

And another.

That was all he needed to hear. Additional to the bucking and rolling of his hips, one hand reached down and closed around the twitching cock between them. Pumping steadily, squeezing lightly. Stroking his thumb over the slit. Along the veins. Pressing under the head.

Feeling the trembling and shuddering beneath his touch, Rain tightening around him. It helped Swiss nearing his own orgasm. Their moans syncing.  The bathroom floor was a mess at this point. Flooded like Rains insides. The multi ghouls hot cum spreading. Barely feeling the others leaking. 

Kissing him again and again. Stroking Rain through his climax. Soaking in every little sound and motion. 

As they both came down from their high, their lips parted. Looking into each others eyes. Breathless panting. Smiling. Their adventure was short but satisfied all their needs. And they were in a perfect position to clean up.

At least themselves. The rest of the room would be an issue for later. Once the steam lifted and they could feel their legs again.

#It's getting steamy #Literally #Rain crying does things to me #He's perfect #Ficlet? #the band ghost #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #no beta we die like our innocence

[slithyt0ves]

What if Ed and the crew that are left on the Revenge raid a ship in the middle of the night. It's pitch black out, the stars are hidden behind the clouds, and the moon is a fresh sliver of light. Ed and crew are swift and silent, ruthless and efficient. The only sound in the darkness is the creak of boards beneath booted feet. Where is the crew of this little merchant vessel? Where is their lookout? If Ed took the time to puzzle it out, he might notice the plethora of empty bottles of booze scattered about the deck, or the colorful patchwork bunting falling from its place among the sails, or the tattered bit of cloth upon which someone had painted the words, "Happy Birthday Buttons". But Ed doesn't notice, because none of that matters. It's just a shitty little merchant ship, like a hundred before it, and he just wants to get this over with so Izzy will shut the fuck up and he can go back to the Revenge and sleep. Or drink. Or throw his knife at the bookshelves. Fuck ever, he just wants this to be done.

So Ed is making a beeline for the Captain's cabin, and then he's opening the door and he's slipping in silently, and fuck, it's dark in here. He can hear snoring coming from the bed nook and he makes his way toward the sound, moving slowly because shit, he really can hardly see. A little moonlight would be nice, just so he could be sure he wasn't about to run into a fucking trunk or something, and almost just as he thinks it, his thigh bumps into something hard. Wooden. Desk. There's a map on it, and a quill, and a ledger, and a dark candle that's been burned almost to the quick. And books. A stack of books. Ed continues on, fingers brushing a well-appointed chair with some soft bit of clothing draped across the back. Silk, he thinks, or cashmere, but that thought is painful and his mind skitters away from it, focusing instead on the couch ahead (with a little table stacked with books beside it) and some shape that's difficult to make out even though his eyes are adjusting to the dark, maybe a vase? Some fancy ass vase? He's tempted to scoff but restrains himself, and then promptly kicks over a stack of books that's just sitting there on the fucking floor, nearly tripping himself, and the urge to curse is so great it kind of feels like his head is going to explode but he still manages to hold his tongue and his breath. There is silence in the aftermath of his near tripping. The hairs on his arms stand at attention. He feels weird. A sort of eerie confusion. And it takes several fast heartbeats for him to understand why. Silence. It is silent in the cabin. No boots above, no snores within. And just as the thought registers, there's a fierce tug at the back of his shirt and the cold weight of a knife at his neck.

"Drop your weapon or bleed." It's a voice so familiar that for several frantic moments, Ed's heart refuses to beat. When it finally crashes back into rhythm, it is so haphazard that Ed remains simply stunned. Any other time, if someone had gotten the drop on him like this, he’d have slipped free and attacked like it was nothing. But just now he is completely flabbergasted, and all he can do is stand there in silence, trying to understand how a dead man can be holding a knife to his throat. Edward drops his knife.

“Good, now, we’re going to walk over to that desk and have a seat in the chair there, do you see it?” The voice is calm. Reasonable. Ed should be fighting, but that voice seems impossible for his shocked mind to ignore, so he allows himself to be prodded forward on numb legs. His brain scrambles to catch up to what his senses are telling him; the voice, the fancy shit, the lovingly folded dressing gown, the fucking books! Stede! His mind is screaming. This is unacceptable. He should be swirling around to face his attacker, knocking the knife from his fumbling fingers, thrusting it deep in his chest... But it seems all he can do is think Stede Stede Stede Stede Stede–

They reach the desk chair; Ed prepares himself to be shunted down into it, when the cabin door flies open with a bang so loud it seems to echo. “Captain, no!” Several voices shout at once, and Ed’s confusion and the overwhelming sense of unreality are nearly doubled. Tumbling through the doorway are several people. All familiar faces, though some he hasn't seen in quite a while. Oluwande, Jim, Lucius and Black Pete. As they rush into the room, Ed can just make out Buttons and Wee John in the dark of the deck beyond. He feels the pressure of the knife ease slightly, as though his attacker is having second thoughts. Now! Part of him screams. Now, now is your time, get him now! Then he hears that familiar voice again, shocked, shaking, breathless.

“J-Jim? Lucius? How– what–” And the knife falls from Stede’s trembling fingers and hits the floor with a clatter. The others are watching him and Stede with a mixture of breathless fear and joy that is very difficult to look at, so Ed keeps his eye on the knife on the floor. Then he feels a touch, almost a pat, tentative, soft, wondering, upon his hair. There is a sharp intake of breath from the man behind him, who has apparently fucking finally managed to put two and two together. Last chance then, Edward.

He dives after the knife, barely managing to snatch it before Jim, who has apparently realized only a moment too late that of course Ed would go for the fucking knife. He manages a clumsy swipe at Jim, not really trying to hit them, just stave them off. Then Ed, on his knees now, spins around to face the dead man who’d gotten the jump on him.

Stede is wide eyed and open-mouthed with shock, and apparently frozen with it as well, because he doesn't even flinch when Ed slams the chair into his midsection as hard as he can, sending him crashing to the floor with a small cry of “Ed!” Then Ed is leaping over the chair and landing on top of him, straddling his chest, one hand fisted in the front of Stede’s shirt, the other clutching the knife, drawn back and high to strike. There are shouts and the sound of more boots pounding, but Ed doesn't hear any of it over the rush of blood in his ears. Stede. Stede Stede Stede this is Stede. No, Stede is dead. Dead. Stede is dead. No, Stede is here. Stede is alive. He’s dead. He’s alive. He left you. He came back.

Stede’s eyes remain fixed on Ed, and he can see Stede’s lips moving but doesn't know what he's saying. He watches Stede slowly reach out and rest his hand on the hand that Ed has wrapped in Stede’s shirt. His other hand remains at his side, even though Ed is still on top of him, still has the knife clenched in his fist and raised as high as he can to strike. Stede is still fucking talking. Of course he is, he is Stede, after all. Ed sees that tears are streaming from the corners of Stede’s eyes and pooling around the tiny hairs of his sideburns. Then Stede’s face begins to blur as tears fill Ed’s own eyes, and he feels a surge of fury. No. He’s cried enough for this man. He will not cry anymore. At least not where Stede can see it. He doesn't dare blink. Stede’s lips are still moving. Ed can feel the others hovering behind him, no doubt ready to grab his arm should he decide to bring the knife down and bury it the dead man's chest. Finally, whatever war has been raging within Ed subsides enough that he can finally hear what Stede is saying, but the words are like a canon blasting into the middle of a ceasefire, and they send Ed surging to his feet. He turns, and whether his face is enough to scare the others out of his way, or the knife is, he doesn't know. But as he storms out of the cabin and across the deck to a dinghy that will take him back to The Revenge, no one tries to stop him.

Hours later, when Ed is good and drunk and worn out from crying and from Lucius, Jim and Frenchie trying to argue with him, Stede’s words are still reverberating through his mind.

“Ed, oh Ed. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

#our flag means death #ofmd #this is a scene from a fic im pretty sure ill never finish but i like it and i decided im going to put it out into the world #ofmd season 2 speculation #?? #i guess? #little fic? #ficlet? #idk how to tag this #obviously #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet

[marinette-d-pain-x-chat-no-i]

The Marichat something, but I swear next time it'll get better

Something happens and Marinette starts seeing Adrien only as a friend. She is very unsure what to do about it.

She refuses to tell anyone, not wanting to let anyone down. She just stopped crushing on Chat Noir, she can't just say she doesn't love anyone now! She definitely can but

Alya teases her about her past crush, unaware that the cat is far closer to be her love interest now. He isn't though.

She still meets with Chat Noir from time to time, suspiciously avoiding the topic of her feelings- she doesn't need to get fanzoned again, EVEN IF SHE'S NOT JUST A FAN. It's not like she wants anything more though. And especially, it's not like she's in love with anyone-

Marinette almost gets akumanised after seeing Chat Noir flirting first with some girl and later with one of Adrien posters.

Spoiler: He did the latter on purpose. And had to save her later. Has been tempted to do that again ever since.

Adrien still thinks Marinette is in love with him, so he assumes she was jealous of the poster. In civilian form, he feels kinda bad...

She was still cute though

Marinette, still happily unaware, started wearing small green or cat accessories, "because they look aesthetic"

Surprisingly, she was so sure about it, that everyone believed her too.

Marinette avoids panicking over crushing on Chat Noir AGAIN via not naming her feelings. If it works it works, why dig deeper.

Maybe she keeps daydreaming about him, but that's normal

He's THE Chat Noir, who wouldn't daydream of him. That's normal. Very normal.

One time, Chat mentions she was his first kiss. Marinette pauses for a second, before admitting that so was he. In a very friendly way, they decide having friends as their first kisses is a good thing. It concludes nothing and definitely wasn't weird at all.

A week later, after a mission, they met on Marinette's balcony.

They were both a little tired and bored in general, one of them tripped, and they "accidentally" kissed (it's not like she leaned in and he pulled her down. Nah.)

They kissed again to prove they're just friends, and cause the kiss felt okay.

TL;DR: They were too bored apparently.

#i #i have no idea what is that #I'll do that again tho #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #plotting #ficlet? #miraculous s5 #miraculous ladybug #marinette not in love episode -368954.87 #season ch4tn01r #wdym it's not a number #did not proofread

[sasukimimochi]

oh i have no idea what this was for. uh.

...well, i suppose i wrote this down in a tizzy one night and decided: no. i will not elaborate for future me.

one day i will wake up in a cold sweat, and whisper "That was vital" then the next day i will forget once more.

so here. a scrap for something i have no idea what was for:

Lan Wangji stared at the naked man emerging from the ground. What had led to such a thing? Was he ok with what was happening? He was lost.

“Wei Ying…?” Lan Wangji questioned, but instead rushed forward to catch the suddenly swaying figure.

#its so small but i honestly dunno what to do with this cuz i have no context from past me #why was wei ying in the ground? why was he naked? i'm as lost as you guys. #it is just titled “random fic idea” with this text #i honestly don't even remember writing it #the proof is on my drive tho #so here it is? #maybe this was a really early version of TDKW #with no context #ficlet? #ficlet #mdzs #mdzs fanfiction #wwx #lwj #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #lan zhan