#short ficlet

[l3mtea]

“I like you.” Alastor blurts out without a thought. He didn’t intend to say it out loud for the demon beside him to hear.

Nonetheless, he didn’t regret it.

The fallen looks at him, he laughs, a pretty golden blush sprinkle his cheeks.

“I already know that! Tell me something new love.”

The radio demon smiles, “What else is new? I’ve told you everything.”

“Oh I don’t know, tell me about it again.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” Alastor chuckles, his fingers intertwining with his.

And his ballad of praise and love towards the fallen fill the quiet night of the bar.

Alastor watch his beloved blush in gold, laugh at his over-the-top praise, smile brightly like a sun at the final song of his ballad: “and I love everything else about you, mon cher.”

————————————————————

An alternative fluff from a comic I’m still working on. Hope you enjoy the sweetness of Al’s endless doting and affection to Luci <33

#hazbin fanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #alastor #lucifer magne #radioapple #appleradio #short ficlet #alastor x lucifer

[ellecdc]

Get in the Car!

Modern AU, James Potter x gn reader (no pronouns used)

Fluff, fluff, fluff. Absolutely did not think this story up while I brushed my own car off this morning......absolutely not..... 🙃

Your fingers were quickly becoming simultaneously numb and increasingly painful as you begrudgingly brushed snow off your car after your closing shift. You were about to acquiesce and put your mittens on that you were sure you could do without when a car quickly pulled up behind yours.

You were tense until you realized you recognized the vehicle, and more importantly, it's driver.

"Baby!" James squealed as rushed out of his car to greet you. "Get inside!"

You couldn't help to laugh at him shouting at you as if you were a small child about to touch a hot burner on the stove. "What? What are you doing here?"

"Get in the car! It's freezing out." He answers instead, vying for the snow brush in your hand.

"I know it's freezing out! That's why I'm bundled up in my jacket. Did you just leave the gym?" You asked, taking note of his still slightly sweaty skin and his hoodie and joggers combo.

"Yes, I stopped on my way home, thought I could get here before you came off work." He said a bit quieter now, kissing the side of your head.

"You came here just to brush my car off?" You asked in awe, arms going slack with your grip still on the brush.

"'Course I did! You're too pretty to be brushing snow off your car in this cold!" He says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

You barked a laugh. "Oh please! You're pretty too!"

James batted his eyelashes at you from behind his frames. "Well thank you baby." He said, voice sticky sweet. "But next to you I am one ugly bastard. Get in the car."

"Jamie..." you started but relinquished your grasp on the brush.

"In, in, in!" He chanted, punctuating each word with a gentle pat on your bum as you moved to climb in and start your car. The defroster was working over time as you rubbed your numb hands together in hopes to regain some circulation.

You couldn't help but marvel at James as he made quick work of your car; his messy curls bouncing with each pass of the brush, and the flex of his muscles under his sweater as he extended his arms.

You wanted to cry, thinking about how he had also worked today and gone to the gym and had to brush his own car off and then raced to your work hoping to brush your car off before you got off just so you wouldn't have to.

You absolutely would have started crying, but thankfully James was already knocking at your trunk, asking for you to pop it so he could put the brush away.

You rolled down your window as he came up to your door. "Did you plan all this?"

"Nope." He said with a pop at the P. "It was just a very happy accident."

You smiled and kissed him. "I don't believe you."

He smiled so wide that both dimples made an appearance on his beautifully tanned face. "I love you."

"I love you too Jamie." You said, mirroring his smile. "Drive safe, 'kay?" You offered as he backed away from your door.

"Pfft, I always do! Gotta make sure I get home to my angel." He sang with a wink as he back towards his car.

You watched him pull his car out of the parking lot as your cheeks began to feel sore from smiling so hard. You hit the absolute jackpot with James Potter.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #reader insert #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #I'm too pretty for this #you're too pretty for this #boyfriend james potter #short ficlet #marauders era #ellecdc fics

[levia53842]

Shang Qinghua wouldn't go as far as to consider them close friends. They're only martial brothers, and as Cang Qiong's resident scum rat spy, he is aware of exactly how meaningless such fickle relationships are.

But when Liu Qingge inevitable does something infuriating and destructive, it's Mu Qingfang whom he exchanges rueful, exasperated glances with behind the other Peak Lord's backs. They carry the weight of Cang Qiong's wellbeing -- Zhangmen-shixiong and the Bai Zhan War God carry their sect name to higher leagues, but it's Mu Qingfang and Shang Qinghua who ensure that nobody is dead or dying and everything is operating as it should. They're the invisible backbone; if they were to vanish for a week the sect would collapse.

None of his martial brothers noticed when Shang Qinghua was running on fumes and hasn't slept for two months straight, except for Mu-shidi, who slipped him a packet of what was essentially sleeping pills. In return, whenever a request for equipment or supplies arrived from Qian Cao, Airplane will rate it a 7/10 in urgency, making sure Mu Qingfang has what he needs as soon as possible.

Could that be considered favoritism? Perhaps, but why should he care? If Yue Qingyuan is allowed to be eternally biased towards Shen Qingqiu, he can do whatever he likes.

MQF and SQH friendship...

#mxtx svsss #svsss #shang qinghua #svsss sqh #short ficlet

[neonpaperlanterns]

I not feeling very good today and i was wondering

Is it okay if i ask for a dogdagy x reader story where reader is sick and dogday tries his best to take care of them and make sure they recover quickly

Its short sorry about that ^^"

[A/n: I hope you feel better anon! And no need to apologize. I liked writing this one. It was nice to be sweet fora moment]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay with me

You’ve survived a lot since coming back to the factory. Getting hunted down by the face of PlayTime Co. The twisted fractured mind of Mommy Long Legs. The train incident. Being thrown in a trash compactor. You’ve survived it all. So color yourself surprised that what has finally taken you down was a cold.

Not that you didn’t try and push through. You did, you really tired. But you were thwarted by your own body and the soft eyes of a certain Smiling Critter. 

“Hm, your fever is still really high.” The rough fur of DogDays hand brushed along your forehead. Even after all these years he still held the faint smell of vanilla. It made you sigh and relax into his palm. You could feel your eyes starting to droop.

“I’m gonna try and find some medicine. I’m sure there has to be something still in the school nurse's office.” as he went to pull away you couldn’t help the protest that fell from your mouth.

“Nooo.” Your voice comes out hoarse as you try to stifle a cough. “Don’t go.” mustering up the energy you wrap your arm around his. 

“It’s not safe to go out there.” DogDay gives you a look. How many times has he said that to you?

A lot.

But that isn’t the point.

“Please just stay with me?” Watching the fight melt right off DogDay’s face before it even fully formed made you laugh. Which immediately turned into a coughing fit. Hearing him sigh made the coughing worse, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that DogDay was settling back down next to you.

Curling up next to him you burrowed into his shoulder as his arms came to wrap around you. It was warm in the cocoon that he created. Maybe too warm but you didn’t care. You were happy, just like this.

“I’ll only stay for a little bit. I really need to find medicine for you.” You hummed, eyes drooping again

“I mean it.” You knew he didn’t, not with the way he nosed along the top of your head. Or the way he shuffled you further onto his chest. No, you knew that when you woke up he was going to be right here. Your ever present comfort inside these walls so full of decay.

#poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #reader insert #dogday x reader #sickfic #cuddling #short ficlet

[quartzlightz]

Blupee

Time: Anyone want to explain why their are a ton of glowing blue rabbits here?

Wild, smiling cheerfully as he pets one: They’re called Blupees!

Time, sighing: Were you the one who brought them all here?

Warriors, snorting: No, he wasn’t, but Legend was.

Time looks over at Warriors who was standing over a Blupee covered Legend.

Legend, scowling: They all appeared out of no where attached themselves to me.

Time smirked, he knew under that scowling face was a Legend whose heart felt like it was going to explode from the cuteness.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #legend of zelda #lu legend #lu wild #lu time #lu warriors #lu incorrect quotes #short ficlet

[dodger-chan]

Based off of this idea, originating with @rogueddie (also on ao3)

Steve was looking at Eddie. He had to. There wasn’t anything else worth looking at in the theater.

That sounded weird.

Steve was looking at Eddie. Because unlike Steve, Eddie was not bored out of his skull by the music, the overacting, the complete absence of story.

That last complaint was unfair. There was a story. Eddie’d summed it up for him on the drive over. Steve just couldn’t follow the story with all the singing being in Italian. Or German. Maybe.

He’d gotten used to hearing a bunch of different languages living with Robin, and being able to tell them apart, but everything sounded different when sung. And everything was sung.

Eddie, who only spoke English and nerd, didn’t seem to have any trouble following the opera. Or if he wasn’t following it, he didn’t care. He was clearly having the time of his life, his joy reflected in the smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

So yeah, Steve was looking at Eddie.

Steve looked away quickly when the music stopped and the lights went up. It would be weird if Eddie caught him staring.

“Is it over?” he asked hopefully. It sure felt like they’d been sitting there for several hours.

“It’s intermission.” Right. Halftime. Or, no, the program said there were two intermissions. So one third of the way. “You’re not enjoying it?”

“It’s not my thing, but it isn’t so bad.” Steve lied. He could get through this. He’d survived worse.

It was a good thing no one had told the Russians about Wagner.

“Want to walk around for a bit? Stretch our legs?”

----

Walking around made Steve feel like he was doing something. Something other than staring at Eddie. Though with Eddie bouncing on his toes and excited hand gestures as he gushed about what they’d just seen Steve couldn’t keep from staring a little.

“Is this your first opera?” An older woman in evening wear asked Eddie. She was smiling kindly, but Steve knew how fake those kind smiles could be. He took note of the wrinkles around her eyes, the graying roots of her hair, any flaws she might be sensitive to, in case she was about to bring up the worn knee in Eddie’s best jeans.

Not everyone could afford a tux like her escort.

“Second, actually. Steve and I saw Don Giovanni here about four, five months ago.” That had been boring, too. But Eddie had loved it, even though he’d been a little embarrassed at enjoying a snobby, rich person kind of thing. So Steve had bought tickets to another opera as soon as he’d saved up enough for two. “I’ve heard Tristan und Isolde before, but it’s different live.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

And then the two of them started talking way, way above Steve’s head, with musical terms he’d have sworn were made up. Like, harmonic was a music thing, sure, but suspension had to do with cars.

It was so much like when Dustin and Eddie talked about Dungeons and Dragons that Steve had to smile.

“And they’re off.” The woman’s escort was smiling, too. He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “C’mon. Let’s you and I get drinks while my wife and your boyfriend talk shop.”

Steve took three full steps before the words sank in.

“Shit,” he breathed. That was why he’d spent months setting aside money for opera tickets. And why he’d needed two. And why he’d spent all of act one entertaining himself with Eddie’s facial expressions. He was in love with Eddie.

Steve turned around.

“I’m very sorry,” he interrupted the woman. He was a little sorry; Eddie seemed to be enjoying her conversation. “I need to borrow this guy for ten seconds.”

“What the hell?” Eddie asked as Steve pulled him away from any potential eavesdroppers.

“Do you want this to be a date?”

“Um, what?”

“Tonight. This. A date.” Maybe Steve wasn’t making a lot of sense. He tried again. “That woman you were talking to, her husband called you my boyfriend-”

“Oh, shit, Steve, I’m sorry- '' Eddie started.

“Don’t be. Unless, you don’t want to be. My boyfriend, that is.” Steve looked directly into Eddie’s eyes. “Because I’d really like it if you’d be my boyfriend.”

“I’d like that, too.”

They couldn’t kiss in such a public place. But once they were back in their seats and the lights went down, no one would be able to see if they were holding hands.

Steve was suddenly looking forward to act two.

#steddie #short ficlet #my fic #stranger things #i couldn't work on what i was supposed to work on #so have this instead #happy valentine's day i guess?

[tarjapearce]

Could you do a Miguel story where he proposes to Y/n(female reader)and she doesn’t even realize it because she was daydreaming about food?Its fluff.

Yeah, me and this reader have a lot in common with food ❤️.

-----------

Fluff under the cut ~

Your senses tingled with the so many aromas that filled the room. Fresh bread, stews, sweet baked fresh goods, your mouth almost salivated. Damned be Pavlov, cause every time you heard a ding, your head turned to the dispatching window to see if it was your order. And there it was Miguel.

"I don't know how... this turned into what my current feelings are-"

Another ding, your eyes casted to the dispatching window. To say you were hungry was an understatement, you went to a mission with Miguel, almost get killed, but walked it off, thanks to Miguel.

You went straight for the cafeteria to try the new spicy chicken empanadas. To your surprise they had ran out quite quickly. And then Miguel had asked you to follow him, that there was something he needed to discuss with you.

"And I think it's time for me to come clean and say that... you're quite reliable and always give your best-"

A new aroma was added to the list. Chocolate. Freshly baked chocolate croissants and other choux pastries that steamed up away in the cooling racks. You licked your lips, your eyes settled in Miguel once more

"You're one of the oldest members in the Spider Society, and it's always..." he cleared up his throat as he put both his hands on the table, he wasn't one for stutter, much less to be nervous, but considering that he was about to choose a new partner for life, he had all the right to do so.

Why your food was taking so long, was a mystery. But damn, that french onion soup from the other table looked fantastic. You had wanted to surprise Miguel with some of his favorite food, and were kinda been bugging LYLA about it. Even asking her for the recipes to try at home.

He was always saving your ass when things were too overwhelming in the battlefield. He was reliable. Or so he had been saying. One thing you found cute is that sometimes he spoke too much about himself, as giving and living the example. But you knew better. With a lot of patience on both ends, he had let you in, get closer and of course, things just kept growing from there.

"So I would like to know... if you'd like to marry me?"

Another ding and your eyes shined with joy upon watching the food coming your way from the dispatching window.

"Oh my god, yes!"

Miguel blinked for a moment and sighed, releasing the breath he didn't know he had trapped in for so long.

"That's... Good to hear." He took your hand and placed the ring quite fast and he cleared up his throat. You looked up at him, and then at his hand holding yours, with a ring on your finger.

Your stomach growled and now it was your time to blink.

"W-What's that?"

The food was placed on your table, as your order of spaghetti with meatballs was brought.

"You just... agreed to marry me, (Name)" His brows furrowed in confusion and mild annoyance.

"Oh..."

"But I guess-"

"No" You withdrew your hand to hide it. and smiled.

"For you to give it someone else? Nope. You're mine. You kidding me?" You pouted before giving a bite to the meatball.

Miguel just stared at you with confused, yet loving eyes.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #female reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv fluff #Blurb #short ficlet

[fizzigigsimmer]

Billy catches himself perving on the guy who runs down his block every morning. It's those floppy shorts. Billy’s not even a leg guy, but there's something so shapely about them. They leave the impression that they were flawlessly sculpted in clay. Here is youth and beauty as can only be imagined and never had- except there they are gliding by, holding up a nice handful of ass. Billy's not a creep so about the time his brain starts spitting poetry over a strangers ass is exactly the moment he decides to get on with his morning and leaves the window. But he starts taking his coffee by the window more often, just to see perfection run by, because it's not a bad way to start a morning all considered.

One day they communicate. The runner stops outside Billy’s window to take a drink from a plastic bottle and notices Billy standing there behind the glass. Gives a silent good morning in the form of a neighborly nod and an awkward wave. Billy raises his mug, all howdy neighbor. And as long legs carry that bouncing ass away he thinks, ‘fuck I need to hit that’. There are a few obstacles to this new goal of his. It's the 90s but these things still have to be approached carefully. He starts looking for signs, because it’s something to do. Would a gay man wear his sweatband like that?

The shorts get shorter. Tighter. Sometimes the runner will stop at the corner for a breather and a stretch. That little shit knows what he's doing. He's totally gay and asking for a spanking to boot. That’s a good day. Billy whistles on his way to work and doesn’t even get mad at the terrible drivers on his commute. But then the very next day something new happens. The runner isn’t alone. There’s a girl with him. Girlfriend? Wife? Fuck. They seem close. She's hanging on his arm and laughing her ass off. The fuck is her problem? Nobody is that funny.

Billy's mood has soured but it picks up when the runner meets his eye as they are passing his window. He gives Billy a shy wave before tugging his little friend along. People do have platonic friends of the opposite sex, Billy remembers. Movement catches his eye, and he has to lean a little to see further down the street but the girl is walking backward, a step or two behind her friend, waving her arms in the air. When she sees that she has Billy's attention she points at the runners back and makes the call me gesture with her other hand. And just in case Billy somehow failed to get the message she makes an enthusiastic thrusting motion. Billy nearly chokes on his coffee. Right. Not his girlfriend then.

Now with part 2.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #short ficlet #😂 based on true events #my old roomie had a crush on one of our neighbors #it was a whole saga

[youre-brilliant]

For their tenth anniversary, Eddie writes a song called “Stevie, Baby” and convinces the rest of the band to play it in a set for Steve. It quickly becomes their most popular song and the track that catapults Corroded Coffin to near-mainstream popularity. It’s not until another ten years later that people start to question the lyrics and wonder whether the “Stevie” in question is maybe not a woman. At this point, Steve, with the assistance of the various offspring of the party, starts shitposting analysis of the lyrics both proving and casting doubt on the lead singer’s heterosexuality, much to Eddie’s fond exasperation. When DOMA passes in 2015, Eddie answers the question for good, by using the song, with amended lyrics, to propose to Steve in a Vine that immediately goes viral.

Steve, obviously, accepts.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #short ficlet #steddie ficlet

[thedemonofcat]

When Jaskier was just a week old, he encountered Death. From his crib, Death gazed upon him and softly uttered, "Not yet, little one."

At the age of seven, when the family dog fell ill, Death visited Jaskier once more. His parents couldn't provide solace for the pet's passing, but Death did.

In a bar, where Jaskier crossed paths with Geralt, Death observed from afar, wondering what would transpire next.

True to his name, Jaskier brimmed with vitality, like a beautiful yet toxic buttercup. This was why Death found itself fond of Jaskier, preventing his premature fading away.

A sword to the stomach, a sacrifice to protect Ciri, should have been Jaskier's end. When Death finally came to claim him, Jaskier had led a fulfilling life filled with joy and music, albeit tinged with loneliness.

Just as Death had done when Jaskier was a babe, it gently whispered, "Come now, little one, it's time to go." Death hoped to bring peace to the Dandelion they had grown to love.

But the growl of the white wolf, Geralt, begged Jaskier to stay, as Geralt asked Jaskier to remain.

Death and life had cherished each other but could never be together. Yet, life sent Death gifts, and Death treasured them all. Now, it was Death's turn to offer a gift to life. So, Death entrusted Jaskier to the safety of his vibrant existence.

From a distance, Death watched as Jaskier recovered, surrounded by his family: Geralt, Ciri, and Yennefer—all very much alive.

#the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #joey batey #the witcher #jaskier the witcher #henry cavill #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fic ideas #short ficlet #jaskier #gerskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #freya allan #headcanon #yennefer of vengerberg #anya cholatra #the witcher season 3 #anya chalotra #the witcher season three #witcher yennefer

[navnae]

Steddie going on a fair date and everything is going wrong for Steve. Whenever they play games he always loses, when he wanted to get on one for the rides that he knew Eddie wanted to get on but couldn’t because the line was extremely long and on top of everything it was so cold outside that both of them were shivering the later it got in the day. Eddie says that he had an amazing time with Steve even if things didn’t turn out exactly how he had planned them. To end the day on a good note Steve tries again at one of the games and this time he win a humongous teddy bear just to give it to Eddie who is more than excited to receive it. He showers Steve with kisses as he squeezes his new furry friend tight and their date turns out to be the funnest thing that they have ever done.

#steddie #blurb #random #fair date #couple goals #short ficlet #short prompt #steddie prompt #they’re so cute #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie headcanon #steddie hcs #steve x eddie #idk what else to tag #help lol #please #come on #manifesting #power #so cuuuute #lmaooooooo #that is so funny #wow #hmmmmm #omfg #i know what you are #be for real #duffer brothers i swear

[shamrockqueen]

Naughty excerpt

Pairing : Bucky X Reader PWP

Warnings : R18, Smut, immediate Smut, painful teasing, short work

Word count : 723

- It was something quick I made today inspired by this post by @buckybarnesbestdoll

His hips rocked up, shucking his cock through your weak core, tearing through you to slam at the back of your cunt. It made you shake in his arms as they snaked over your body. You try to hold his gaze, only to catch it lingering between your legs, drinking in the sight of his member sinking into your wet folds. He dragged himself back out as he lifted your hips, all before meeting them again with a shallow thrust of his own.

The fingers on his cold hand dug into your skin, the metal plates of his wide palm pinching around your weak little throat. He kept your gaze locked on his dark reflection in the mirror ahead of you. His dangerous blue eyes stared back, making the blood freeze in your body like cracked ice against your skin.

The warm fingers of his other hand drew heat from your lower body as he dug at your throbbing bud. He had you squirming in his cock, deeply seated in your tight, warm channel. Your inner walls still stung from his initial intrusion, leaving you weak and horribly sensitive.

His voice dragged along your ear, pricking your ears along with the rough texture of his beard.

“You see what I see, doll?”

You winced as his thumb pressed harder on your aching pearl before backing over it. He didn’t wait for an answer, tightening his metal fingers around that delicate windpipe as he spoke again.

“My greedy…”

He pressed these fingers back down, delighting in the sight of your legs twitching, but even more so in the tears welling in your eyes as you struggled to match his gaze through the mirror.

“…needy..”

He kept grinding that deep and heavy voice along your ear as he rolled his hips from below. Your thighs pulled further apart, and you had to try and grit your teeth to keep from breaking apart in his tight embrace.

“..DESPERATE SLUT.”

You couldn’t take it. You cried out as loudly as his grip had allowed, shutting your eyes as a wave of hard pleasure wracked your little body. He could feel that you’d pull apart at any second, but not the way he wanted you to.

Those fingers left your neck for a second to lock around your jaw, jerking your face back in view of the mirror. It forces your eyes back open in shock, and with air rushing back into your lungs, you take in the full picture of what was reflected back at you.

Your hip joints were pulled so that he could spread your legs for the mirror—a little show of his own making. It painted a painful picture across the glass, beautiful and tear-stained.

He yelled at you this time, righting his arms around your body before standing with you solely in his hold. Your feet dangled over the floor, leaving your body bent as his hands and cock tore through your flower and bud. He lifted your back up to the mirror, where his eyes could lock with yours.

“Keep those eyes on me when I make you cum.”

You can barely muster any words before he hammers himself through your quacking inner walls. His strong legs could be seen flexing in his reflection as they held you both upright. You could only lock your fingers around his solid arms as he voiced you on his thick cock, breaking that tightly wound knot still wound around your belly until it finally snapped as the rough drag of his calloused fingers.

His eyes never left yours, even as they blurred with hot tears before clearing back over as they spilled down your cheeks. You watched, mind nearly melted, as his cock pistoned through your open core. You feel the warm brush of his ragged breath fanning across your wet chin, all as you watch his face pinch and his teeth grind together.

His cock seized, the slam of his hips stuttering as he spilled into you. You were momentarily readjusted in his arms as he held himself inside you.

He released his hold on your throat, choosing instead to carefully guide his metal fingers along your body before circling over your waist to better hold you up. Your feet still never reached the ground, but you wouldn’t have been able to stand anyway.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes #smut #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky smut #short ficlet #short fiction #short fic #bucky pwp #pwp #bucky barnes pwp #pwp fics #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky #dark bucky smut #metal arm #metal arm Bucky #painful teasing #reflection #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

[ellecdc]

The Drink Snob

mafia!Remus Lupin x fem!reader | 3200 words

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: mentions of spiked drink (no one drinks it), reference to past spiked drinks, complaining about misogyny, bad reputation of American tourists in the UK (I'm sorry!)

The short of it was: it had been a long day.

The long of it though, by God, was that you really, really needed a drink.

You got to your favourite pub which was only a brisk 7-minute walk from the university; a tiny, hole-in-the-wall Irish pub which probably had several thousand identical pubs lined across the UK but that didn’t matter, dammit, because this one was special – this one was yours. You chuckled at the irony that you had moved half-way across the world to England only to sit yourself in an Irish chain pub that you’d likely be able to find back home a mere 6000 kilometers away.

You relished the feel of the warm air hitting your rosy cheeks after marching your ass down to the pub in the biting wind in naught but a long coat and a scarf. The warm air stung but in all the best ways as you shucked off your outer-layers and plopped down on a stool by the bar, unawares of anyone else within your vicinity other than the bartender promised to serve you your drinks.

“Alright there, Lass? What can I get for ye?” The fellow asked and you could have kissed him right then and there.

“Can I have a negroni and your tallest pint please.” You asked, hoping the desperation in your voice wasn’t noticeable – the fact that the bartender didn’t comment on the odd combination of drinks let you know that is was noticeable. No matter – you were desperate, what did you care?

Turns out you should have cared more.

“I’m sorry but I must tell you, that is an awful combination of drinks.” A lilting voice came from your left side. You groaned audibly and held your hands up to your temples like blinders to avoid even looking at the voice who dared to speak to you after such a day.

“S’pose its good nobody asked you then.” You muttered darkly. You didn’t make a habit of speaking to people this way often – people already spent enough of your time in the UK mistaking you for an American on account of your accent anyway, you needn’t add fuel to the fire by adding to an already bad reputation.

“Please tell me that you’re ordering for a friend. You’ve surely just ordered for someone who’s meeting you here?”

You knew better – you really did. You don’t let strange men in bars know that you’re alone; make them believe someone could show up to save you at any minute. But dammit, you’ve been fending off jackasses all day – what’s one more?

“Apparently, I live to disappoint men, sir, so no – both drinks are for me. Is that quite alright with you? I didn’t realize I had to pass this decision by the board.” You spat, finally turning your what you were sure was a burning gaze to this mystery guy on a stool to your left.

You hesitated in your ire for a moment: the man was quite a bit larger than you had pictured in your mind – not large in a particularly broad way but the man seemed to be excruciatingly tall; he sat basically spilling off his stool, while still managing to look elegant in doing so. He was dressed sharply but not in a way that made him stand out – respectable but forgettable, he blended into this bar well. Or he would if he hadn’t been so fucking handsome.

He had warm, honey-coloured curls that seemed to artfully fall in front of his face, and eyes to match. You’d never seen amber coloured eyes before, but you couldn’t seem to pull your gaze away from them. You did – by god you did – because the rest of the man was too enticing not too. He had a chunk missing out of his left eyebrow which was arched mischievously at what you assumed was your attitude with him, and his crooked smirk matched. He had a few scars littering his face – most were small, but there was one large one that crossed the bridge of his nose, and another nick on the right of his upper lip that may have continued onto his lower, but you didn’t want to get caught staring at his mouth. And of course, of-fucking-course he’d have a dimple. Why wouldn’t he? Could this day get any worse.

“What was the thought process, then?” He asked, his smirk growing deeper.

“What?” You guffawed. He couldn’t seriously be doing this; people didn’t do this, right?

He gestured between the two drinks sat in front of you with his own – a rum and coke if you guessed correctly. “Why those drinks, specifically? They don’t exactly pair well together.”  

You stared dumbly at this hot, audacious man. You hoped he’d decide you weren't worth the breath and move along. He only stared back at you.

“There wasn’t any.”

“Hm?” He queried.

“There wasn’t any. Thought process, I mean.” You muttered, taking a sip of the negroni. “I like both drinks – usually separately, but I’ve been dreaming about getting my ass down here since practically 9:30 this morning and I couldn’t choose which I wanted first and I knew that I planned on getting at least a little bit tipsy in order to pretend I didn’t have a completely mind-fucking day so I thought ‘fuck it, I’ll order both’ and I thought since it was no one’s business but my own what I put into my body that I could get away with it but clearly, I was wrong.” You felt winded after your mini rant as you looked back at the man. He seemed genuinely entertained at your story, though his eyes grew a bit softer.

“Thinking of drinking at 9:30 am, hm?” He pondered out loud. “You know, that’s usually the sign of a problem; one might call it alcoholism.”

You barked a laugh. “Yeah, you call it alcoholism, I call it Gilderoy Lockhart.”

“Ah, so boy-problems then, is it?” He asked in a laugh.

You shot him a warning look. “It is not like that.”

“I didn’t mean to offend.” He offered with his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Tell me what it’s like then.”

You sighed dramatically. “It’s really not that big of a deal, I’m just mad about stuff at school.”

“Ah, you’re a student, then?”

“PhD candidate, but technically, yes.” You offered, downing the rest of the negroni.

“Very neat. What’s your focus?” He asked again as you began sipping on your pint, trying not to grimace at the change in drink. You're sure you failed.

“Music.”

“Hm, I didn’t know one could get a PhD in music.” He queried.

“Music theory, but yeah.” You offered, moving your drink back and forth between your hands.

“And that brought you here? To England? Why not stay in Canada – if that’s where you’re from, pardon my assumption.” He quickly apologized.

You smirked at his correct assumption – thankful that you didn’t come off ‘too American’ today.

“She goes wherever the wind takes her.”

Your statement was met with silence, so you turned to see the man had frozen in his movements and stared at you incredulously.

“Are-are you quoting Disney movies to me?”

“So, you did get the reference.”

“I did, I just fail to see how Pocahontas relates to a PhD program in England on music theory.” He mutters, looking up at you from the rim of his drink.

“I finished my Masters, then the wind changed.” You offered with a shrug, “It brought me here.”

He seemed to study you for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that you weren't going to elaborate further. “And what does this Gabriel fellow have to do with the winds of musical theory?”

You snorted indelicately. “Nothing. He just, I don’t know, it sounds stupid now that I try to say it out loud.”

“None of that, now.” The man said gently with the same smirk on his face, “a smart girl like you doesn’t strike me as the type to overreact to male foolishness.”

He seemed honestly interested in your answer, at least, the most interested anyone has ever seemed in your ramblings about your toe headed fellow PhD’er. You tried facetime’ing your friends from home about him many-a-times before, and they listen but they don't get it. And your schedules don’t align and with the time-difference one of you is always either just waking up or going to bed. But this random, handsome guy in your bar making fun of your drinks has done nothing but listen so far and you really wanted to get it off your chest.

So, you did.

You told him how your morning started terribly as you ripped a hole in your stockings and only noticed once you got to campus and you usually don’t dress this formally to campus, but you were guest lecturing for Minerva and you know professors didn’t technically have a dress code, but she always looked well put together so, dammit, so were you. You explained that your mother always was the superstitious type and had you carry an emergency pair on you at all times, so you were thankfully able to change, but only after you spilled coffee on your blazer and had to shrug that off for the day and the lecture halls are ridiculously cold always; you know these stone buildings were built before electricity but surely with the great minds this school has churned out, they could find a way to keep the warm air in and cold drafts out?

And if all that hadn’t been bad enough, the other PhD candidate working under McGonagall is this absolute bell-end that you're almost positive has plagiarized half of his written work because everything he spews is absolute nonsense. He’s rude, and condescending, and spoke over you throughout all of your lectures to wax poetic about different Opera’s he’s performed in across the world - that you swear to God you will fact-check one of these days - that had absolutely nothing to do with the course content. And then, and then, he had the audacity to suggest you were only here because the school was required to accept a minimum number of foreign students and since you were, quote, just a woman, you also checked off their minority requirements too.

“People don’t get accepted here because of their nationality or their gender or their status as a minority. They’re supposed to get here because they’re good.” You muttered, finishing your pint you hadn’t realized you had guzzled during your rant

“And how’d Gavin get in, then?” He asked. You choked on the last of your beer.

“Fucked if I know.” You sighed.

A few more pints were placed in front of you as you continued to rant about the ins and outs of being a scholar in the world of music [for Christ’s sake, what was I thinking? I’ll never work a day in my life.] The man interrupting only to say that switching back to liquor would be a choice you would regret in the morning, and who were you to argue?

And he listened. He scoffed at some parts when you quoted Gilderoy suggesting something ridiculously altruistic that he’d done for the less fortunate while being nothing but condescending, he sprinkled in a few you’re kidding me’s, and even asked you to repeat something he couldn’t fathom the first time.

“See? I knew it. A smart girl like you wouldn’t overreact like that. Sounds like you’re perfectly justified in your ire.” He said.

You hummed as you finished your last pint. You felt thoroughly warm and heavy which was your intention of coming to the pub in the first place. You looked over to notice that the man – whose name you still hadn’t got – was still holding the same drink he had when you first arrived.

“Who are you here waiting for, then?” You asked him.

He looked confused for a moment. “How do you know I wasn’t just in desperate need of a drink myself?”

You nodded toward his still half-full cup in his hand. “Because you really haven’t been drinking.”

He narrowed his eyes and smirked at you. “Observant, aren’t you? Clever girl.” You rolled your eyes at the compliment.

“I was supposed to meet a business associate, actually.” He offered as he looked behind you towards the bar door. You turned to take in the rest of the bar yourself; it didn’t seem like the sort of place one would meet a business associate. The bar was dimly lit and somewhat claustrophobic; it didn’t offer a lot of privacy to talk business. You liked it because it was small - you’d be able to see everyone who was currently in the building with one sweep of your gaze save those who may be in the washrooms, and you could see out onto the street from your seat at the bar.

“I think it might be safe to say they stood you up.” You offered with a smirk as you turned to look back at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“I think you might be right.” He offered, looking you up and down.

You couldn’t help but admit he was quite attractive – and not just in his honey-blond curls and mischievous smirk and long limbs way, but he seemed clever, smart, and clearly he was a good listener. You sort of hoped he’d offer you his name, maybe even his number. You wouldn’t mind waiting around for a business associate of his with him again sometime.

You had no such luck.

He began to stand with an expression that bordered regret crossing his face.

“It appears I must be off.” He offered with a sad smirk as he placed some bills down on the table. You weren't quite familiar with the bills in the UK yet, but it seemed like an awful lot of money for the one drink he had at the bar that was still unfinished. You took notice of said drink as you came to this conclusion and got a weird feeling in your gut as he took the drink by the rim and brought it to his lips.

“Wait!” You said as you grabbed his arm. He tensed immediately and you pulled your hand away as if it burned. “I’m sorry. Just, is that the same drink you had when I first arrived?”

He looked from the drink back to me with furrowed brows. “Yes, why?”

You pointed to the drink he still held in his hand. “It’s old.”

He smirked. “Are you a drink snob, miss orders-two-incompatable-drinks-together-and-drinks-them-at-the-same-time?” You rolled your eyes and snatched the drink out of his hand as he brought it to his lips once again, which earned you an indignant ‘oi!’

“No, you berk, what I mean is, this drink is old. It’s warm to the touch, the ice has all melted and it should be as flat as a board but it’s bubbling, like, a lot.” You said as you held it in front of his eyes. He watched you for a few moments before you continued.

“It looks like someone put something in it.”

His gaze shot back to his drink where, sure enough, his should-be-flat diet coke was fizzing wildly as it began to turn a slightly murky shade.

You watched as he gently plucked the drink from your hand and casually put it back down on the bar and shrugged on his jacket.

“It appears you’re right.” He said in monotone. “Looks like we both ought to take our leave, hm?”

You nodded and followed suit; replacing your jacket and scarf you had ripped off unceremoniously as you had entered and headed for the door. The alcohol made you wobble for but a moment, but you were quickly righted by a gentle hand pressed to your lower back. Mortified, you put your best foot forward and marched out the door, hoping your embarrassment wasn't to evident in your cheeks.

You had to admit, you were beginning to panic. Why were you trusting this man? You had spent the last – you checked your watch – nearly two hours talking to this man whose name you still don’t know completely unaware of what was happening around you, and it turned out that there was someone here drugging drinks.

What if it’s him? An unhelpful part of your brain supplied. Why would he spike his own drink and then almost drink it? You argued back.

“You should be more careful.” You offered in what you had hoped to be a playful manner, but it came out strained. “Do you know of any reason why someone may want to spike your drink?”

He seemed to consider your question as you both walked somewhat briskly down the busy street to the subway station.

“No reason that would be suitable to share in the presence of a lady, I’m afraid.” He offered with a wink, leaning down slightly with his hands in his pocket. This answer didn’t make you feel any better.

“Any particular reason why you’re familiar with the signs of a spiked drink?” He offered back.

“I have a feeling most girls would be able to answer that.”

“Hm, perhaps. But I do not believe all would be as quick to catch it as you were.”

You didn’t answer him; you decided you had shared more than enough with this stranger tonight, and you were officially feeling all sorts of uncomfortable with the situation. You were mostly uncomfortable with how not uncomfortable you felt. It felt easy, walking with this stranger, as if you’ve been walking down dreary streets of London together for ages and this was just another Tuesday.

He stopped suddenly and flagged a taxi. You scowled at how quickly a cab stopped for him and his long as arms.

“Here, it’s too muggy for such a lady to brave the underground.” He offered as he opened the door. You began to protest, you had a tube pass through school for a reason, but his hand was on your lower back again as he gently led you into the car and closed the door before sticking his head in the window of the front passenger seat and tossing a handful of bills at the driver.

“Anywhere she wants to go.” He said, stepping back to the middle of the sidewalk and waving you off.

Between the alcohol, your nerves and being disarmed by the attractiveness of this man, you simply spouted the address of your flat to the driver and turned your face forward. The whole evening seemed otherworldly – like you were missing a big chunk of information of what happened tonight, even though you could account for every minute of it.

Your suspicions would have been proven correct if you had turned around to see your mystery man again, who was now accompanied by two other similarly dressed men - one with an unruly mop of brown curls and a shorter man with long black hair tied back haphazardly - who began chasing a fourth man in earnest down the street in the opposite direction.

Continue to part two here.

#marauders era #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #marauders au #mafia au #reader insert #x reader #self insert #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #short ficlet #marauders are in the mafia #obviously #marauders are a gang #vigilante

[aspiringtrashpanda]

More Than Meets The Eye

"Can I ask you a question?”  Panic lanced through your body. Oh, you were so close to the door. If only you had moved a little faster! You could have sent Nami in to distract Sanji and retrieve your coffee and everything would have been fine.    But no. He had you trapped. And you just knew he was about to cut straight to the truth you’d been trying to shove down for 2 and a half years.  “Listen...” He looked so fragile, so vulnerable. His voice rose over the drip, drip, drip of the coffee machine. “Have I offended you? I get the feeling you don’t like me very much.”  And wasn’t that a loaded question? 

Giving in to my shameful love for Sanji. Read the fic HERE.

#sanji x reader #sanji x you #pathetic wet cat sanji #he's so babygirl #i hate you i love you #aspiringtrashpanda #witchyopossum #short ficlet

[neonpaperlanterns]

Another Day

Tipping his head back, DogDay stares up at the sky. The sight of big puffy clouds greets him. They move languidly along, forming nonsensical shapes he swears looks like a turtle playing baseball. 

“What are you up to?” Your shadow falls over him. The tips of your hair tickle along his face as you look down at him.

“I was looking at the clouds.” Reaching up he carefully twines a finger through the strands of hair brushing across his forehead. “Would you like to join me?” 

You are sitting down before he fully finishes asking. Your arm raises and you jab a finger at the sky.

“That one looks like a horse watching TV.” He follows your arm up and squints at the clouds.

“Really? Are you sure? Cause I'm seeing a rabbit in a fist fight with…” DogDay tilts his head a bit to the side “A cheeseburger?” He hears you snort at his observation.

“I think we need to get your eyes checked because that is clearly a horse watching TV.” You cross your arms, as if the couch potato of a horse was gospel. He can't help but roll his eyes.

“Alright then. What's that one?” The wind had shifted and the clouds were moving. And it was clearly forming into a very intense game of kickball between two giants

“Well obviously it's a horse lounging by a pool enjoying his vacation.” You nodded your head as if any of what you said was correct.

“It is most certainly not that.” His arms flail as he falls backward. “It is giants playing kickball.”  he states and again you dismiss his very right observation with a hand wave. 

“Horse vacation.” Your tone holds no room for argument.

“Horse watching TV, horse vacation, why do you keep seeing horses?” DogDay is exasperated. Do you like horses? When did this happen? Why horses??

“Poppy just discovered the movie Spirit. I am seeing horses everywhere.” Your face looks tired but your voice holds so much warmth and affection that it makes his heart beat just a little faster. Looking back up at the sky he sighs.

“I guess I can see how it's a horse on vacation.” The canine concedes. He hears you laugh and he can't help but pout.

“I knew you'd come around.”

#poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #reader insert #dogday x reader #cloud watching #short ficlet #fluff #horses #spirt the movie

[quartzlightz]

Nobles

The chain making it to Warriors place after a very long ass walk through castle town.

Twilight, rubbing his temples: I forget, how loud and touchy castle town nobles are.

Legend, groaning: Don’t forget nosy and inconsiderate.

Warriors: They aren’t terrible after you have to be around them so long.

Time, putting a hand on Wars shoulder: Captain, even I can’t agree with you on that. You are also a noble, even Wild who grew up around them couldn’t handle them Before.

Wild: He has point, pre-calamity me couldn’t tolerate them for a second. Even now I can’t tolerate them.

Sky, looking like he’s about to murder someone: If we ever have have to come here again, we’re finding a different way in. I’m never going through castle town again.

Warriors: Damn, do y’all really hate my era’s castle town that much.

The other speaking at the same time in union: YES!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #legend of zelda #lu legend #lu wild #lu time #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu sky #short ficlet #ficlet #incorrect lu quotes