#100 words prompts

[sara-scribbles]

I would like to request 100 words prompt about ADeuce with Grim (angst) "Group hug?"

100 words - "Group Hug"

Ace can’t remember the last time he had a group hug, if one can even call it that. He feels Grim’s teeth sink deeper into his neck, but he clings tightly to him. Even as he feels the blood seep from Deuce’s jacket, he won’t let go.

Having gotten into many fights in the past, Deuce knows when to admit defeat. Yet, he refuses to give up. He refuses to be scared as Grim snarls at him. He refuses to back down even as razor sharp claws gouge painfully into his side. He won’t let go.

They can't let go.

[whimsicalmeerkat]

solitude - teen wolf

On AO3

“Why do I always find you brooding in your Fortress of Solitude? You should get some hobbies.”

Stiles is panting, like he ran through the woods to get to Derek’s house.

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles looks offended.

“Why would you think anything is wrong! Can’t a man visit his alpha to say hi?”

“Stiles.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see your handsome face,” Stiles snaps, then turns beet red, like he didn’t mean to say that.

“What’s. Wrong.”

Stiles sighs. “Truth spell.”

“Fucking witches.”

Derek grabs his jacket. He’s going to wait until later to think about Stiles calling him handsome.

[jaylienpotter]

8th October (late) prompt from @jegulus-microfic | 85 words

"I know what you are." James's body was close to Regulus's. His own tanned skin contrasting the strangely pale complexion of the other boy.

"Say it out loud." No tremble in his hushed voice. Face showing no emotions. But Potter couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Vampire." Black broke, snickering. It was enough to make the Marauder start loudly laughing.

"You're both morons. Why did I decide to show you Twilight?" Lily rolled her eyes at her boyfriends, a curve still forming on her lips.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

CONGRATS ON HUNDRED DOVE!! you sent me a risqué ask for 100 so now i do it back to ye-

"caught in the rain" with leona :D or ruggie, if someone got to him first! ehehehehehehhehehehe you can see stuff 😳👀 for free ✨✨✨

btw your ask is sending me so hard but i'm already typing out so much for leona so your ask is gonna be the last one for the event lol

Caught in the Rain; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader needs to get bonked with a stick (/j)

Content Warning; Swearing

Word Count; 700+

AN; Don't expose my ass on my own blog, Soru /j. (just trying to feed your own simping along with the simps) But I hope you enjoy what I wrote for Leona and this prompt! As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The sky lay heavy with dark clouds, the smell of rain thick in the air, yet not a single drop had yet to strike the ground. The air was dense with humidity, warm from the harsh sun’s rays from earlier in the day. But yet, you found yourself outside, trying to find Leona.

He had invited you to spend your summer break as his guest in the palace. Well, less so 'invited', more so demanded.

“Do you have anywhere else to be, herbivore? I thought as much. Come on, you’re staying with me.”

You still don’t really know why, but you weren’t going to throw away the chance of staying someplace beyond nice for the summer… plus Leona wasn’t so bad once you got to know him. Yes, he puts on an act of not caring, and being abrasive, but you knew that he cared, that he worried. Also, the two of you had been having this back-and-forth banter for months; blurring the lines of just friends bickering and something... more. But neither of you had made a move. It just hung in the air between you, nearly as suffocating as the humidity now; potent with the possibility of a massive storm.

Back to the present though. You were on the outskirts of the palace, looking for wherever Leona had decided to take a nap for this afternoon.

“Leona,” you called, but all you heard in return was the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Where is that overgrown house cat? I swear if I get caught in a downpour because of him… “LEONA!”

The first drops of rain began to fall, gentle and sparse. But you knew full well that in a few minutes' time they would be falling hard and fast.

“LEONA KINGSCHOLAR?!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You heard an annoyed huff of air off to your left, and looking up you saw none other than Leona lounging in the low-hanging branches of a tree.

“Ya don’t need to yell, ya know,” he sighed, landing softly on the ground. He looked up to the sky and frowned before setting a slow pace back to the palace. “Are you coming or what, herbivore?”

You followed after him, catching up so the both of you were going at a comfortable pace. Thunder was still rumbling, and the rain was slowly picking up, but there was no rush. Well, there wasn’t any rush until there was a flash of lightning and it seemed like the entire sky’s worth of water came down all at once on the both of you.

“Shit,” Leona hissed and guided the both of you to the relative cover of a tree to wait out the worst of the monsoon. “Just our luc-” He stopped talking when he looked at you though.

You were spitting out some stray rainwater that had managed to get into your mouth. But once the intruding water was gone you looked over to him but you felt your eyes lock on his torso; the white shirt that he was wearing was now completely see-through and you could see everything. Stop staring! Damn though- STOP STARING! But your eyes refused to move.

Leona noticed this, and he also took in your drenched appearance but was more subtle with it. “Tch,” he tapped you on the nose, breaking you of your staring stupor. “My eyes are up here,” his voice was teasing though, light.

You snapped out of it, catching his mirthful eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you whisper. You felt your face grow warm at the slip of your tongue, but it was true. Even before you openly ogled at him, you always thought that, but never said it to his face.

Leona chuffed, but he didn’t say anything; neither denying or accepting your statement. “You aren’t half bad yourself,” he said softly.

The two of you sat underneath the tree, still in your soaked clothes, watching the rain fall together in a comfortable quiet. And while the first golden rays of sunlight may have been stunning, the both of you thought it was nothing when compared to the captor of your hearts; each other.

After all, you still had the rest of the summer to build on this new development.

[nativestarwrites]

Pick a number, get a drabble

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

"I know you're hurt."

"You're burning up."

"Just breathe."

"I don't feel good."

"Eyes on me! C'mon keep those eyes on me."

"That's a lot of blood."

"Come on, breathe, breathe, don't you dare--"

"How long were you planning on hiding this?"

"Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you."

"I can't find a pulse!"

"Don't you dare die on me."

"Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

"can't--breathe--"

"I won't hurt you."

"Talk to me."

"Stay still."

“You don’t look so good.”

“I think I’m gonna – ”

“Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.”

“Please stop.”

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“It’s over now.”

“I’m okay. You don't need to worry about me.”

"You're not supposed to be up and about."

“Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

[wisteriagoesvroom]

drabble request! feel free to tweak/change especially if the pairing isn't your cup of tea: logan/oscar and morning coffee?

thank you and have a great day today!

okay!! i didn't think i'd have much to say about this pairing but. it turns out i'm a liar.

(ignore the fact that oscar won f2 in covid...in bahrain... and i don't think logan was in the same championship that year. something something artistic liberties)

-------------------

The carpet tickles Oscar's neck. He blinks his eyes open.

F2 celebrations were a blur. Logan dragged Oscar to some godawful nightclub, all bright lights and sweaty bodies and people pressing on him. Last night comes back in sparks. Jagerbombs, shoulder bumps, arms in the air like they just don’t care. Electro beat so loud it rattled his brain. 

They both ended up on the floor of Oscar’s hotel suite. Oscar’s not sure why that was, or what logic there was in that decision when they fumbled with the room key and tumbled in at the wee hours of the morning. 

Logan tosses a red team polo at Oscar’s face.

“Get up, dude.” 

Oscar makes a noise that sounds lot like ngggh.

“That was a total shitshow.” Logan says.

“Yeah. I know. Told you not to go, didn’t I?”

“C’mon man. Last day of F2 and you weren’t gonna celebrate?”

“I feel awful. This feels awful.” 

“But winning F2. Bet that doesn’t feel so bad.”

They both stare at the trophy, sitting sideways on a nearby sofa. Thankfully Oscar had the wits to deposit the silverware in his room before he went out to the party last night.

Oscar also thinks at some point that Logan’s arm ended up around his waist last night. Like really tight for some reason, but he can’t really remember. 

The trophy winks at them in the morning sunlight, as if in on a joke. 

Logan points at the trophy. “You should totally name it.”

“No.”

“Yeah you should.”

“My head hurts. What will it take to shut you up right now?”

Logan’s chest rumbles as he laughs. He’s spry, still, but Oscar knows from their training together that he’s getting stronger every month. There might be a day soon where Logan’s going to stand taller than him. 

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about that. 

“McBreakfast, maybe.” Logan nods to himself as if he's just invented a great new concept. “A McMuffin with double hash browns. Yeah.”

“You’re so predictable.”

“I feel like you like that about me.”

“Humility is a good look, Sargeant. You should try it sometime.”

Logan barks a laugh, and stands up. He reaches an arm out to help Oscar up. Oscar still feels like someone’s dropped a ton of bricks on his head, but at least there’s someone here to help. Or commiserate. Whatever. Maybe they’re the same thing, sometimes.

“What is it that adults are supposed to do?” Logan says, adjusting his shirt. 

“Get a coffee,” he adds, in a deeper baritone.

“Disgusting stuff. Don't get why people like drinking it.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You drink stuff like my kid cousin.”

“Don’t chocolate-shame me.”

“I would never. You loser.”

“Who’re you calling loser?!” Oscar exclaims. He darts at Logan, and ends up pulling the other driver in a headlock. Logan’s hair is warm and a bit sweaty under Oscar’s hands. Also Logan screeches like an eagle the whole time. They’re probably going to get a noise complaint, but whatever. Oscar will take his F2 Championship privileges, if only to bully his friend. 

"Take that back!" Oscar says.

“Nah!”

“Right now!”

"Fuck's sake, man! Okay, okay."

Oscar releases the other guy, and Logan stands up again. His cheeks are very red. 

"Like I said. Feral. And I'm from Florida."

Oscar rolls his eyes as they both go get ready. He has to suppress a grin as they brush their teeth side by side.

Later, he and Logan end up going to a nearby McDonalds. Logan ends up getting his shitty coffee. They order McMuffins and three hash browns to share, and Oscar spends a full minute lecturing Logan about the health benefits of Milo. 

Logan doesn’t look like he believes a word of what Oscar's saying. Yet he listens the whole time, and laughs in all the right places anyway. 

And tomorrow, Oscar has meetings with F1 teams. Proper ones, to talk about his future, where he might actually have a chance to race. Mark's the one arranging them, and Oscar's supposed to be the star player now.

It's your time, Mark had told him, eyes sharp but patient. 

But today: Oscar still has a day left in F2. And he’s going to spend it, cosy in a booth at an unremarkable McDonalds, getting brain freeze from a milkshake, shooting the shit. Laughing until he snorts.

With one of the few people in his small circle who knows what it's like to be young, hungry, and maybe a little bit stupid.

[suzy-queued]

Happy Two Years of Galladrabbles

Thank you @energievie and @look-i-love-u for being awesome and for giving us the abstract prompt for this week. @galladrabbles

Previously on No Sleep 'Til Nashville ... They met, they hatched a plan to get Mickey's boyfriend back, they wrecked, they stripped, they kissed, they smoked.

-----

The wee hours passed in a purple haze of weed and exhaustion.

They didn’t sleep. They lay beside each other in that tiny bed, clothes on, joking and mumbling.

They bumped elbows, knocked knees, held hands.

Ian ached for more touch. For a kiss that meant more than comfort.

Mickey’s icy blue eyes held him at bay. I can’t face that yet. Please let me hover outside of reality a little longer.

In the orange glow of sunrise, Ian gathered his nerve. He asked the question he’d been pondering all night. “You still want to go to this wedding, Milkovich?”

[quackquackcey]

Oblivious

Derek wakes up…but he should be dead? 🪄 (AO3).

For @sterekdrabbles 4/21/23 prompt: ‘admit, alive, past.’ 100 words. Rated G. Tags: they’re each other’s anchors, resurrection, humor.

“I’m…alive?” Derek looked down at himself, then up at Stiles. “I died. Did you—”

“On accident,” interrupted Stiles.

Derek glanced at the tub of pasty, herbal liquid he was sitting in within intricate runic circles.

“I s-stumbled across this on accident—”

Derek stared at the tomes about resurrection beside the board detailing that the spell only worked if they were each other’s anchors.

“Okay, so it wasn’t completely on accident,” admitted Stiles, “but why was I the only one who didn’t know I was your anchor?!”

Derek let out a fond huff and pulled him in for a kiss. “Idiot.”

[ardent-fox]

Galladrabbles: Room for More

Thank you to @dynamic-power for this lovely @galladrabbles prompt! Here's my humble offering of some S1 babies.

----

"Gonna pay for that?"

Something undefinable flashes across Mickey's face before he snorts, smirk not quite reaching his eyes. "Think y'know the answer to that, Gallagher."

The sound of his surname cuts deeper than Mickey continuously complicating his job over silly snacks like-

Ian's heart sinks at the essentials stacked inside the box: milk, canned goods, fuckin' tampons for Mandy. At the energy bars bulging from his non-boyfriend's pockets that he'll undoubtedly scarf down in secret later, yet still have room for more.

He waits for Mickey to leave before fishing out a twenty and placing it inside the register.

[pissditching]

gone off a blinker watching two people deadname me in a discussion board response assignment worth 20% of our final grade where they both failed to meet the response prompt requirements so miserably i can’t even find it in me to care about getting deadnamed

[sara-scribbles]

tears for azul?

100 words - "Tears"

When he was younger, Azul cried a lot. He had a hard time holding in his pain, and the constant bullying didn’t help. Azul vowed to never go back to his former ‘weak’ self.

It’s strange, though, how crying feels different on land.

Under the sea, his tears mix with the water and become difficult to discern. On land, however, the tears trail down his cheeks as salty stains. They leave his face feeling sticky and dry at the same time. The evidence of his weakness can’t be washed away as easily. 

Yet, there’s something cathartic feeling the tears fall.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Prompt 9: “Where did you learn how to do that?”

f!reader x Rex romantic pls

soooo the first thing that came to mind was flirting while they were sparring and the reader flips him over her shoulder and he’s just like “Holy shit, I’m in love with this woman” but then he flips her back and gets the upper hand. Just some flirty teasing wit some fluff if possible. I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🩷✨🩷✨🩷✨

Let's Get Physical

Rex x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Rex x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: fluff, flirting, romance, sparring, suggestive themes

Word Count: 100

Author's Note: Hello anon and thank you for participating in my follower event 🥰 I'm so happy you love my writing, thank youuuuuuuuu 😱 Phew, you got a lot of details there for 100 words! This was a tough one, but I think I got most of what you were looking for. I hope it meets your expectations 🙏🏻 Please enjoy 💚

“Don’t go easy on me, Rex,” you tease while dancing around the training mat.

Rex follows your movements and takes a few half-hearted swipes. “I don’t like hitting women.”

You smirk and lunge towards the Captain, flipping him over your shoulder as his back hits the mat with a thud.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Rex asks in shock.

“C’mon, Rex,” you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Let’s get physical.”

Your words race through his body like electricity. He grabs you, flips you over, straddles your torso, and pins your arms down. “Don’t tempt me.”

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Infected

"No," Harry shouted, cradling his injured arm close to his chest like Draco was the most unreasonable brute to ever live, like Draco was the one who had hurt him in the first place.

"Harry-" he started.

But Harry shook his head, stepping around their kitchen table, keeping the table between them. "No!" he repeated, "you're going to hurt me."

"For fuck's sake," he sighed. "You've brought this on yourself."

His husband's bottom lip protruded, wobbling precariously, "It's not my fault," he whined.

And it was ridiculous just how hard it was for Draco to resist the urge to give in and just give Harry whatever he wanted when he pouted like that. "Harry, I told you not-"

"It's not my fault!" he interrupted.

"It literally is!" Draco argued, taking counter measures to try to catch the other man.

He shook his head, darting out of Draco's reach and moving into their living room, putting the couch between them this time.

"Harry. I told you to leave the next door neighbor's new dog alone. I told you that he is an asshole and that he was going to tear into you."

"But it's not my fault!"

Draco rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, "You literally walked up to the fence and reached over it for him!"

"It's not my fault that he is so bloody adorable!" Harry whined. "What was I supposed to do? Just let it continue looking so cute without touching it?"

"Yes," Draco said reasonably, "as a matter of fact."

"I can't," he pouted.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well, now you have to deal with the consequences," he said, waggling a potion at him. "We need to get this on your arm so that you don't get an infection."

"But it hurts," he whined.

"Harry," he said, ignoring the way his pouting made Draco's gut twist uncomfortably, "it will only hurt for a minute, then it will be better. It's probably hurt more in the time you've put it off than it will just having the wound healed."

His husband slumped, looking defeated.

"Come here," he cajoled, sitting down on the couch and waiting.

After one more second of indecision, Harry made his way over and plopped down next to him.

He held out a hand and Harry gingerly placed his forearm, wound up, in his palm. "That looks like it hurts," Draco said sympathetically.

Harry nodded.

"Okay," he murmured, tapping lightly with his wand to numb the area slightly before pouring the potion on the wounds. He watched as the wounds knit themselves together, Harry wincing and hissing his way through the healing process. Then once the wounds were closed, he cast a spell to clean his arm. "There," he said lightly, "good as new."

Harry pouted at him.

With a little laugh, he brought Harry's forearm to his lips and pressed a kiss to where the skin had healed. "And a kiss to make it better."

"Thanks," he mumbled a little shy, even after all this time together.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, "I love you, you know."

"I love you too. Thanks for fixing me up."

Draco smiled at him, "My pleasure, love. Happy to keep you safe," he added softly because it was true. Getting to love and take care of Harry was the great joy of his life. And it was something that he happily did until the day he died.

---------------

Read more of my fics here.

[sketchytea]

A drizzling rain falls during Qingming,

Travellers on the road are full of melancholy.

May I ask where the nearest tavern lies?

The cowherd points in the distance to Xinghua Village.

- Qingming, Du Mu (Tang)

celebration - day 2 for @historical-hetalia-week

[gravitywonagain]

400 words on a’yuan’s first time cursing in front of his dad

.🤬.

Lan Yuan freezes. He feels the hair on his arms prickle, rising on end. He’s standing on one foot, holding the smallest toe of his other tightly in his fist. It hurts. Even with his whole body frozen stiff, it hurts. A sharp throb that had ricocheted up to his knee and back down to his toenail, but had somehow come out through his mouth.

He turns slowly, his own words ringing loudly in his ears.

Hanguang Jun looks similarly frozen in place. Shocked still like the rabbits in the meadow when Jingyi forgets not to shout.

“Where did you learn that phrase, A’Yuan?” he asks, voice low and gentle.

Lan Yuan looks down at the leg of the table. It appears entirely unconcerned with the drama it has caused. Not even a scuff mark for his trouble.

He looks back up to the man he privately considers to be his father. The man who has been with him for the past four years. The man he’d do anything not to disappoint.

Hanguang Jun doesn’t look mad, though Lan Yuan gets the feeling that anger might just slide off his face, unable to stick, like ink on waxed paper.

“I don’t know,” Lan Yuan answers honestly. In his mind the cadence is rough like untilled soil and the words are the color of fresh cinnabar. But he doesn’t know why. There isn’t a memory to call up so much as an emotion, an instinctual vocal response to pain. “I think I heard it somewhere.”

It’s unlikely he heard the phrase in the Cloud Recesses. Profanity is forbidden. But it doesn’t sound like it would fit into the tongue-tripping Gusu dialect he hears on their day trips down to the Caiyi markets either.

Hanguang Jun still hasn’t moved. His posture is rigid and strange. His eyes are aimed toward Lan Yuan, but they’re not looking at him. Not seeing him. Hazy and far away and… wet?

A small smile lifts the corner of Hanguang Jun’s mouth. He hums.

Then his eyes seem to focus back on Lan Yuan. He says, soft but stern, “Profanity is forbidden. You will copy Conduct.”

Lan Yuan drops his foot to the floor, the pain already forgotten, and bows his apology.

When he rises, the smile is still there.

Then Hanguang Jun adds, “On your hands,” and Lan Yuan fights not to say the phrase again.

[greenvillainredemption]

Encantober day 2: Strength

Redraw of this storyboard by Ryan Green. Supportive Luisa and Bruno doing his best.