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#one sentence story
ladderofyears · 1 year
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“Harry’s obsessed with Draco again,” Hermione told Ron, “and this time, I think the feeling might be mutual.”
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Prompt: Obsessed.  
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hyacinth82 · 7 months
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The 19th century urge to be a bachelor living in a small city up the block from the tiny barbershop run by a handsome young man with a soothing voice and strong hands, and when your cut is done he smiles wryly while bidding you farewell and you slink out, resolving to blame your now-ruddy cheeks on the shave that he did so well.
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writerdragonfly · 1 year
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character: riz. prompt: deja vu
Sometimes Riz would catch his reflection on something normal or mundane and feel faintly dizzy, like the world was stuck in the repetition of an old nightmare, fuzzy and half recalled flashing before him, as if the memory of something unclear but terrifying was reaching into his chest to pull out his soul—but perhaps more often, Riz would catch himself in a mirror and feel nothing but the soft silence of his reflection as it should be, a quiet sense of deja vu that never left.
One sentence story prompt! Feel free to request more in my asks!
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blue-eyed-author · 10 months
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A random something I wrote a while ago, but I have nothing to use it in, so I’m putting it here:
I keep the birthday card she made me beside my bed, because when I look at it, I’m reminded that, at least, at one point in her life, I meant something to her.
(I don’t know. What do you think of it?)
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blue6479 · 1 year
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I had the most friends when I was the worst version of myself
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drag00n5 · 3 months
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“As the blinding rays shined brighter and brighter across the mountainous terrain, the beast is beckoned towards its inevitable end where it will embrace the great beyond.”
It’s not great but I feel happy with what was once a doodle at work!
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facksnotfound · 11 months
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Random One-sentence Story Starters
"You were never mine, but I was always your's"
"You don't have to love me, just...don't leave me. Please."
"Every midnight eve, I come here for the slightest chance of seeing you again."
"What if we never shared those potions?"
"You know, it's kinda weird how this all started with me shaving your head."
"What if, and hear me out, what if we broke into build-a-bear?"
"If I wasn't such a dumbass, I would've back outta this plan a long time ago."
"You're adorable and it sickens me, literally, pass me that bucket."
"I feel like this is an appropriate time for a "your mom" joke, but I got nothing."
"We rockin' with Satan, because Stan's rockin' with us...and my dad, Steve."
"Who the hell just conjured a mammoth?"
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imperiallefty · 1 year
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9 year old scars and a 9 year old's scars are two different stories told by the same bearer of bad news.
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thedarkkeep · 6 months
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Every negative feeling is just a positive one rotting.
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oocoverheard · 1 year
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The wall is in my way of everything.
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ladderofyears · 1 year
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It took three dates before Draco realised that Harry wasn’t being benevolent and that, actually, the other wizard really fancied him.
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Prompt: Benevolence.
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esculentevil · 11 months
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Thorinduil Headcanon (#6): Deep Love [NSFWish]
☆゚.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚☆💎AO3/Pillowfort🌲☆゚.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚☆
Dwarrows have a burrowing instinct;
and male dwarrows, especially, like to bury themselves deep in their mates, like little bears hibernating in their winter caves, for as long as possible; Thranduil, an elf, is not opposed to Thorin sowing him thus—but he is miffed when his love’s planting gets in the way of him being king: HOW is he to rule his kingdom when THORIN WON’T GET OUT OF HIM?
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writerdragonfly · 1 year
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Character: Aelwyn. Prompt: Regrets.
The thing was, it would be far shorter to explain what she didn’t regret than to list the things she did; Aelwyn Abernant was a study of regret, it was carved into her bones from her sister’s first words and echoed with every syllable—and yet, if pressed, she would claim the very opposite, as if she owed penance to no one for anything, especially herself.
One-sentence story prompt! Feel free to request more in my asks!
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harrison-abbott · 10 months
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The music came on by chance through the radio and he had to stop what he was doing and turn the volume up, just kneeling there next to the computer speakers; wherein it seemed this little clique of violin cello and double bass strings had adopted the voices of ghosts or angels, or both, and were lost somewhere in grand history, yet saved by this twinkling recording that he’d never heard before.  
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shiftertech · 8 months
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Interlude: Bloodied Praise
Fingers play chords of nerves like an instrumental melody of pleasure-hormonal bliss as if a conductor had commanded such a musical action from the pedestal of the greatest orchestral halls, those halls being the very scalp buried beneath wiry hair, matted and damp with sweat and blood from countless battles, still warm to delicate touch, and beckoning a metallic howl of satisfactory symphony, playing a duet of touch and sound that to handler and hound strikes as a harmony, and to all others begs to find the nearest grave to bury themselves within before the executioner and its master trample any chance of theological closure.
Inspiration:
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