#small drabble where> | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

palossssssand · 7 months

Text

Reconciliation

Old dome squadmates Trito and Kinoga get together at Trito’s place to catch up after years apart and a meeting by chance on the surface.

⚠️Warning for suggestive content below + implied chest trauma

After several weeks of chipping away at this, the comic is finally done! Very happy to have rendered a full 7 pages of oc stuff. Please give it a read!!

read the full 7 page comic on twitter! <-please do not click if you are a minor and view at your own discretion, this link contains explicit 18+ content. Thank you!

For the lore, includes stuff from splatoon Octo Expansion: Trito and Kinoga were a part of an octarian military squad living in the domes, Kinoga being their squad leader that many looked up to and admired. There were 6 of them who considered each other to be their closest friends. Upon hearing about the tests from Kamabo Co. and the allure of the Promised Land, Kinoga wished to seek it out in order to find a better life for their squadmates. A difficult decision, since it meant leaving them all behind, promising to come back and take them there.

Kinoga enters the metro trials and soon realizes that the Promised Land isn’t what they expected, their hope crumbling when they encounter one of their sanitized squadmates Agara, who followed suit to the metros soon after. Kinoga narrowly escapes, eventually making a break for the surface, carrying the shame of unwilling to return for their squadmates with them (it’s justified, of course, there might not be an easy way in, they might get caught again, Agara is gone)

Trito enters the Metro not too long after Kinoga does, wanting to catch up to them, and an accident that occurs in a test early on results in Trito’s near sanitization, giving him his scar. Terrified, and realizing what happens to his fellow octolings, Trito is unable to return to his squadmates, not wanting to break the news of their loved ones’ untimely fates. He hides away on the Metro until the events of OE happen and Agent 8 dismantles Kamabo, opening an opportunity to escape to the surface. Unwilling to face the possibilities of going back, Trito takes his chance to leave, starting a new life and feeling that it’s for the best if he doesn’t acknowledge it, though he missed his friends dearly.

Years later, Trito and Kinoga run into each other on the streets of Splatsville by chance, and the implications of them both being on the surface and alive hit them, having to carry the burden of leaving their loved ones behind and finding out the truth, knowing the other felt exactly the same, not knowing the fate of their squadmates and not wanting to think about the possibility of them being gone. They have a tearful reunion about it, and set up a meet later, to sit down and really talk, and get into a brief argument when the topic of returning to the domes comes up. Trito’s in disbelief that Kinoga never went back down to check on the rest of their squad, wanting them to have been a better person than him, who was too cowardly to do so. Eventually they do reconcile, and end up at Trito’s place to hook up, where the above comic takes place :]

#my art #my ocs #splatoon #suggestive #trito #kinoga #aaahhhhhh this is finally done!!!!#a small drabble turned into a sketch turned into a full fledged rendered comic. blowing up #in any case I hope people enjoy this as much as I do…they are so everything to me #splatoon ocs #I have so many thoughts about these two that I could not articulate in a tumblr post. they miss each other so so much #its about the. I’ve known your body. and coming back after years and going oh…this is new…#there’s no context where trito would be able to reveal this to kinoga except for boning #only kinoga could look at it and immediately understand. sparing him the pain of explaining what happened and reliving it #if it had been anyone else he probably would have stopped them the moment the hand went under the sweater #but he’s just so so caught in the moment of the reunion. and the everything . Auughhhh #stealing this from a friend but theyve changed and they haven’t changed at all. I’m going to be ill #chest trauma #‘what if they explored each others bodies’ or whatever. okay #if it wasnt clear enough or implied trito and kimoga are octolings from the underground domes #nsft #oh and the. really long lore explanation <33 teehee #they are so so much #not partners but more than friends. secret third thing. guh #its about holding each other so tightly and physically for confirmation that they weren’t seeing things and that the other was Really There #like the fate of their friends not on their mind constantly and then it all comes flooding back and all of a sudden it opens the door #for finding the others and now they won’t have to go back and face the possibility alone #IM GOING TO BE SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!#this has got to be the most ive rambled in the tags I’ve just been rotatinf them with fado for the past barely a month and they are #tritonoga

117 notes · View notes

metalhoops · 1 year

Text

Steve never liked the cities.

They were always too crowded, too noisy. He liked Hawkins. He liked a quiet life in the suburbs. It was part of the reason he’d never gone to college, that and having to worry about his adopted band of misfit kids and the hell dimension that opened every year. Yet, somehow he found himself on a weekend trip to Chicago.

It was all Eddie’s fault. He had to pick some things up from a music store in town for the band, he’d mention strings or amps. Steve only half understood. It was an excuse for Eddie to take his van to Chicago. Steve had been surprised to find himself invited.

“You never leave town since Vecna went dark, dude. How are you going to travel around with six kids and a Winnebago if you never leave Hawkins?” Eddie asked, somehow managing to convince Steve to join him.

They took turns driving Eddie’s van. Eddie’s choice of music was questionable, but his version of road trip games was even more worrisome. They’d been travelling behind an old truck for the better part of an hour when Eddie kicked his feet on the dash and questioned,

“What do you think would be the worst way to die right now? Because I’ve spent the past half hour watching that guy’s toolbox rattle around and I’m convinced a nail gun to the head would be a killer way to go.”

Steve should’ve known better, but he’d give anything for a distraction from the long stretch of road.

“Probably getting set on fire at a pump while you insist you need a smoke the second we pulled over at the last gas station,” Steve noted, switching on his indicator and passing the vehicle, using all the horsepower the poor-beat up van had.

“And here I was thinking I had a twisted imagination,” Eddie spoke, before listing off a series of more gruesome scenarios.

By the time the two reached their motel, Steve felt strangely lighter. Whether it was the distance from Hawkins and the trouble it had caused him or because he and Eddie had spent an hour listing out worst-case scenarios until they felt comical and absurd instead of real and imminent threats, he didn’t know. Being trapped in a town with a rip in the fabric of space and time had a way of making you always feel on your guard. That night the two slept quickly and soundlessly.

It was when they walked through town Steve remembered why he hated cities. He was left shuffling through unfamiliar streets, elbow to elbow with strangers, trying desperately to keep up with Eddie as the man weaved and ebbed with the crowd as Steve used to slice through water. Eddie was one with the city. Steve was apart from it.

Without thinking, Steve reached out, grabbing onto the hem of Eddie’s jacket, letting himself be guided. Eddie showed him where to step, how to move. He kept his head down and followed Eddie’s lead to the music store. Much to his surprise, when they were all done, and once more ready to head back into the fray of the foot traffic, Eddie offered the crook of his elbow for Steve to hold onto.

“Hey, it’s easier than you almost tugging a hole in a perfectly good jacket. You don’t have a good track record, Harrington,” Eddie teased. He had a point.

He hadn’t meant to make a habit of it. Yet the small action of latching onto Eddie to keep him at arm’s length followed the two back to Hawkins.

The thing about hanging out with Eddie was that the man was surprisingly hard to keep up with. He was always rushing places at the drop of a hat, jerked one way or the other by whatever flight of fancy caught his attention.

He’d be beside Steve at the Family Video store one minute, then darting to the horror section driven there by some tangential conversation, which then of course, would lead him to remember some old sci-fi film and send him running to the sci-fi section, only to find it lacking. That would lead him to Robin and their extensive movie catalogue on the computer, all the while, he’d still be talking to Steve. He found it easier to keep up with Eddie if he had a hold of him.

He’d find his fingers tucked into the crook of Eddie’s elbow, hooked in the chain of his jeans or clinging to the cuff or hem of his shirt and trailing in the wake of him.

Contrary to popular belief, Steve wasn’t an idiot. Not when it came to social situations. He knew being extra touchy with Eddie was something he could only do in certain situations. He was hyper-aware of it when he’d made the mistake of hooking his thumb into the back pocket of Eddie’s jeans in the arcade. The two had driven the kids there and were wasting time bouncing between watching the kids and playing pinball.

A group of teenagers had been gawking at the two already, likely trying to work out what twist of fate had landed the former king of Hawkins High and current school Freak together. With the action, the mumbled whispers turned into slack jaws and less favourable words muttered just loud enough for Steve to hear.

Steve wasn’t an idiot. He knew what it looked like. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be like that, not that he’d voiced any of it. Not yet. He needed to do it in a town where people didn’t know his name, so people wouldn’t talk if he was reading Eddie all wrong. He didn’t think he was, he was good with reading people.

In a crowd, holding onto Eddie was okay. On their increasingly frequent trips to the city, Indianapolis, Chicago, and Fort Wayne. When no one else could see, that was okay. In small-town Hawkins, in broad daylight, it wasn’t.

Steve suddenly understood the appeal of the city.

#steddie #steddie fic #drabble #steddie drabble #ficlet #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #eddie munson #inside your brain there are two wolves #one is a headcannon #where you want Steve and Eddie to stay in Hawkins #have some small town bliss and break the cycles of generational trauma #while the other headcannon #wants them to move to a big city like Chicago or San Fransisco #and live their best open gay life #this was born of that conflict #Metalhoops writes

876 notes · View notes

leopardmask-ao3 · 12 days

Text

Day 23 - Tango

Drabble for @hermitadaymay!

“Dude, your eyes are glowing so bright??”

“Aw, thanks!” Tango teased, looking in Skizz’s general direction.

“No, seriously. I’ve never seen them like this in broad daylight before.” Skizz shifted to make eye contact, then flinched and squinted at the brightness.

Tango looked around at the landscape just barely becoming visible. “Oh, are they extra super-duper bright? Like everything else around here?”

“It’s called daylight,” Impulse laughed nearby. “You should try it sometime.”

Tango swung lightly at him, missing by a mile. “Jerk.”

“Join the caving thing,” Skizz suggested. “We’ll recalibrate you slowly, work you back up to post-Decked-Out normal!”

#my fic #drabble #tango tek #robot tango #hermitaday #inspired by word-of-god potential canon about making his eyes glow #I didn't have the word count to fit this in but my thought on why this is happening is like #he's got his glowy indicator lights around where a human eye's iris would be #and then pupil-like receptor is often in front of some of them #but his 'pupils' are constricted so tight at the sunlight that his friends can see All the indicator lights at once #if those lights weren't on while his pupils are that small they'd probably be able to see most of the inner workings of his eyes

49 notes · View notes

the-admin-but-dumber · 2 months

Text

"A canvas for you to paint."

I got some new brushes, decided to sketch these guys for the first time in a WHILE. I do like how it turned out, for something so rushed. Small drabble under the cut.

"O' Creator of worlds, master of swords, Romeo. What do we do now?" Romeo lets out a rough snort of amusement of his parnter's fancy language, he tilts his head to the admin beside him who crawls from the in-between beyond the bedrock. Together they stand under starless skies, only the glow of their armour offers light in a new world, untouched, unmoulded.

Romeo feels his muscles twitch, his fingers do as well, eager, planning out how he'd soon shape the world. It would be a fine world, perfect, but bland, colorless, his eyes glance to Wheatley who meets his gaze back. They wait for his response, an inhuman stillness in how they never breathe.

"We shall build a new world, one without flaw, one we will call our own." He responds, his chest wells with pride, Wheatley follows him across the endless valley of bedrock and pitch black skies. Wheatley does not respond, their thoughts filter back to The Underneath, Xara, Fred, could this truly be a world without flaw? Without them, surely not. But it could still be beautiful.

Following Romeo, they flicker between space, appearing and disappearing, chasing each other through barren lands until they stop. Romeo goes ahead, and Wheatley stands at the border, watching dirt form under their talons and grass bloom from the centre of the world. It splashes outward like a drop of water, curling and twisting to bloom life where it could touch. Wheatley takes a step forward, they fly up to not become trapped beneath a sea of stone and dirt, albatross wings growing from their spine to take them higher on a well placed breeze. Briefly, they consider letting themselves fall, so that they may grow into the world, but they do not.

Romeo terraforms and Wheatley watches, a blank canvas of towering mountains and deep oceans, valleys carved by a single blade, but so bland. The red admin meets Wheatley from their perch in the clouds, brazenly drifting circles until they rise to give him attention, Wheatley bows their head for the first time.

"I've carved mountains and valleys from the void," Romeo starts, he speaks with many voices, none his own. "A blank canvas, and one I will not paint myself."

Romeo takes their hand, they rise from the clouds, following Romeo into the open sky, darkness stares down at two traitors. "O' Master Artisan," he addresses, "my first gift to you, paint these skies for me, bring life to the land so this world truly sings with our power."

It's a soft request, and Wheatley accepts it.

In slithering forms their coil through the air like ribbons, Romeo keeps them steady and Wheatley paints the skies with all the colours they could. They create stars from their blood and with their hair, trees bloom across the once empty fields of grass and stone. Romeo carves caverns and caves, Wheatley fills them with light and jewels, they give life to the animals Romeo shapes from pieces of the past.

And then, their people, they create the first people together. Romeo forms their bodies from all the pieces of their world, and Wheatley breathes humanity and the ability to be what they chose to be.

Their first gift to this world, is existence.

35 notes · View notes

thefollow-spot · 11 days

Text

"Untitled" (Favour)

Lancelot/Merlin ● G ● WC: 100 ● No Warnings // Written for @merlinmicrofic 2024, for the prompt 'Crowd'.

---

So you find him in the crowd. You’re the best-made knight of Camelot’s tourney, and owe him the contents of your life. He’s fate, and love, your pledge. Faith didn’t exist until he believed in you (cheated laws; risked death). Favours are maiden-things. Doesn’t matter, he cheats this too, snuck from the King before coming to you (all undressed). The silk ribbon was once a rag, but he’s a man of talents, knows how to make common things fit for nobility. You wear it in the sun. He still looks at you like a prize horse he’s placed bets on.

---

23 notes · View notes

whumblr · 4 months

Note

it is the binge anon again teehee just sent in the last ask about yk jay opening up about all the shit zayne did to him to dennis i read through this one drabble about how he reveals off everything to his family post getting out of the hospital, if it's not too much trouble, can we have a follow up to that? like how his parents reacted during the info drop, how jay handled it, so on ughhh i just love how you humanize him so well. you're a lovely writer

I actually cut this part from that chapter. Luckily I hoard cut out stuff, and I freshened it up a little for you <3

Follow up to Everything.

Relive

“I’ll tell you what happened.”

And so he did.

That rotten news article stirring up chaos and snitching on his flaying only started at the last pages of his story. He settled back against the cushions, bracing himself for a long and difficult tale to tell. Not really how he imagined his day would go… But perhaps it was better to get it out. Get it over with.

He took a deep breath. “This started two years ago. That time I was hospitalised.” That time where he only told them about the interrupted preparations for a robbery and about a pissed Zayne beating the shit out of him for meddling. At the time, he could barely make sense of what had happened. Now that he had all the pieces, it was easier to tell. Not to mention that he’d processes it a bit more.

“Zayne was tasked with making sure I wouldn't run off to the police. Well, he... he didn’t do just that," he said with a wry smile. And that was the explosive start to it all, with Zayne in the middle of the blast.

He avoided going into too much detail at first and the lengthy introduction helped, to get his story straight, to get his emotions ready for… for the later gritty details.

Another thing he desperately avoided was eye contact. As he spoke, his gaze lingered just over his father’s shoulder, on his mother’s earring, and he tilted his head towards Laura sitting next to him to include her in the group, but his gaze merely brushed over her cheekbone to make it feel like he was looking at her, and immediately shot towards the window every time he did.

It was hard. It was so damn hard telling all this. But now that he’d gotten started, there was no stopping. Everything had to get out, everything that was bottled up, all the tears, his shame, everything.

They all listened without interrupting him, letting him stutter, hiccup, and hesitate as much as he needed.

And his hesitation and stuttering only increased when he had to tell how Zayne invaded his life again two years later. How he’d ambushed him, threatened him, and was waiting for him several times a week. That first beating where every bit of cropped up anger was punched out, without any measure of control or holding back.

“He pretended otherwise, putting responsible on me to hide everything, but he quickly realised he had to tone down if this was to be a regular thing. And so... that’s... that’s when he went for a more... controlled way of... of inflicting pain. Instead of off the rails beatings… So every couple of days, he’d drop by and... erm, well, it was basically just—“ His breathing grew ever more shallow with each word. He heaved softly, swallowed hard past the growing lump in his throat. “Just torture,” he whispered, “It was just—”

He couldn't get the word out again. It stuck in his throat, firmly nestled behind that lump of tears. His breathing grew more forced, heaving in soft gasps, shallow at first, going deeper and deeper to hide the sobs, until hyperventilation kicked in and—

A shuddering breath and his father suddenly stood up.

Jay flinched, the sudden movement snapping his attention back. Back from a dark place, deep in the recesses of his mind, to the present, to his living room, to his family. To a safe place. His exhale finally released.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” his father grunted softly.

Jay gave a single nod and swallowed hard. They were all in need of a little break.

His eyes followed his dad, gaze on his back as he retreated to the kitchen. His lips started to tremble as he looked his mum in the eyes, seeing the tears pool. And he lost control over the muscles in his face as he felt Laura lean into him.

His face scrunched up. He brought up a fist, hiding his lips. His jaw clenched so hard as he tried to contain his sobs he could hear his teeth gnash over each other. Fingers tightened into the fabric of his pajama pants. But everything exploded in a single sob. He rested his wrist against his forehead, hiding his face.

“Sorry,” he managed, voice fragile, brushing away tears.

“Don’t.”

He took his glasses off, letting his emotions spill over his cheeks.

His breathing calmed but his thoughts were still racing. How was he going to breach this subject. How was he going to tell… that he was pinned down and— He meant to go for ‘carved up’, but that was a bit too strong of a word. It was true, it was the exact word that described what happened but, as a writer and now storyteller, he had to consider his audience here. He didn’t want to downplay, he was past that now, but god, he had to thread carefully, not wanting to make things any worse either.

His father silently handed out cups of tea. Jay mouthed a thanks.

Then he started again, voice now clear and calm.

“Zayne's favourite was his knife.” And he told them about the cuts and scars covering his body. He didn’t tell about Zayne’s experiments or creative tortures; mostly just hovered in-between beatings and knifeplay. Just the bare minimum to explain his wounds.

“So these…” Laura started, touching over his wrist to draw attention to the scars on his forearm.

Jay fought the urge to cover them up. “Yes,” he merely said, avoiding how some of those were self-inflicted. The details didn’t matter; as far as he was concerned, Zayne was the cause of those, regardless of who brandished the knife at the time.

He felt uncomfortable, all eyes now focused on his scars. With all his hiding the last couple of months, sitting in just a t-shirt made him feel almost naked, especially with the scars on display. He quickly moved on.

By the time he reached the shock of Emery being involved, his head started to pound, the tension in his body, the strain behind his eyes reaching its toll with the pain heavily settling on his brow.

Mercifully, he could leave the hardest bit behind now that he explained the cause of his injuries. But Emery proved to be an even worse enemy than Zayne could ever be. And Zayne grew more and more tense and unpredictable. Teetering from more cruelty to actually saving his life.

How after that, everything spiralled out of control. To the point where he couldn’t handle things alone anymore and called in Dennis. How they’d worked together, pressured Zayne, and how that ended in abduction.

He recounted that night, the night in the warehouse, how he and Zayne had tried to help each other out, having to hold on and depend on each other to delay Emery’s plans until help would arrive.

“And… and this is…” his mother stuttered, fiddling with the newspaper in her lap, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes. That’s… that’s what happened...” He paused, shifting a little against his pile of pillows, careful not to put pressure on his back. He repeated what he’d just told Laura, about Emery trying to force him to tell where Dennis was. Taking extreme measures. With this, he didn’t spare much detail; better that they hear it from him, better that he prepared them for what they were going to hear in court.

Not to mention, to prepare himself. Get it out, because he was going to have to tell this again. Repeat the story in front of an audience. No… not repeat. Relive. As soon as he stuttered out the first words, the fresh memories gripped his body, seeped into the healing wounds, reminding him of the pain.

“It was… it was worse than anything Zayne’d ever done… I thought I was going to die, I was sure I was going to die…” Maybe he even wanted to in a brief moment when the pain was too much, but he swallowed the despair he felt at that time. “I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t even raise the gun Emery forced into my hand… It hurt. It hurt like hell. It was hell. I—”

He stopped for a second, the sound of the whip echoing in his mind, the stabbing in his throat as each scream tore through his windpipe like that goddamn whip tore through his back, flaying his throat from the inside, each scream just hurting and— He swallowed hard. There was no stab of pain anymore, no sting, no bite.

It was healing. He was healing.

He looked up, a soft smile on his lips, finally looking them all in the eyes, reassuring them.

“But it’s healing,” he finally said, echoing his thoughts. “I got through. I got out. And I’m still here with you.”

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful

#whump #aftermath of whump #h/c #home is where the hurt is #hiwthi #hiwthi drabbles #Thanks for the ask <3 As for the other I have a small follow up on that too #also hi yes other ask for dennis whump I see you I like you #*sideglances at finishyourfuckingwipsfebruary*#*nervous laugh*#my writing

31 notes · View notes

soldier-poet-king · 9 months

Text

@leng-m and @iseult-blanchemains both asked for it! So here is possibly my fave lil goblin emperor fic that I have read over and over.

Csevet gets to be appreciated and loved and cared for. Csethiro finally gets to duel. Maia loves his wife and his secretary and his nephew so much. The imperial couple + Idra stand for the 'common man', and the couriers' reputations against the courtiers. The emperor's household is one big family unit of a not platonic not romantic but secret third thing and I would die for all of them.

#the goblin emperor #its only 3 chapters and v short and i adore it #i dont read a lot of fic. or not aus #im big on expanding canon scenes and in between #this is post canon but technically canon compliant #i just want my emperor household not platonic not romantic but secret third thing polycule #my other fave is a lik drabble where csevet catches iana and thara shooting each other small smiles across the table at a fancy dinner even #and csevet who i hc as bi and in this fic is lovers with another courier #is like. ha. i made a bet with cala about this #it is very short and very sweet and lightehearted #and we get to see thara laugh

45 notes · View notes

appalachianapologies · 8 days

Text

tagged by @rosieblogstuff to make a new post and drop the names of my WIPs, and because I also don't have a WIP folder (my folders are far more nuanced and I don't have the brain cells to do something that smart), this probably won't be all of them

I have a handful of relatively tame ones:

jack reads files

snips from juvie

tragic backstory™️

fuck it desi lore

mash or pass

and then just random words that somehow make sense in this brain of mine:

fight club except not at all and also people die

autism be damned my boy can COOK

this man is going to have problems!!!!

another wip don't fucking @ me

the long needed abandonment complex overhaul

I also don't know if I can tag enough people, especially people who have already been tagged before so if you're reading this, I'm tagging you in all ways but physical and you can absolutely say that I tagged you

#all of them are macgyver 2016 fics #except for the following: ''mash or pass'' is the name of the document where i'm keeping prompt fills/small little drabble things for MASH #yes i think i'm funny #and ''this man is going to have problems!!!!'' is a martian fic that's been 99% written for about 2 years at this point #if you're thinking to yourself ''how do you keep track of wips if you name them these things that are so unidentifiable??''#the answer is that i don't #it's kind of a problem #in which vi thinks about writing

10 notes · View notes

niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian · 4 months

Text

It's that random time of the year again, getting a sudden burst of energy and using it writing to work on your WIPs that had been sitting and collecting dust again.

It's a great feeling to hold onto again once you see that your progress is pulling forward by a mile, I've missed it.

#I'm not sure when it will be totally completed since i was just going to do a small simple drabble at maybe 700 words or so #but classic me kept adding more and more and it's WAY beyond that point so who knows where it'll end up DBDBDN #i will give a hint to what it is if anyone is curious about it

18 notes · View notes

justpeaxchy · 2 years

Text

(you already know... Here's the recommended song!)

Do you dream of me too?

You held your hands closely in front of your chest, dozing off into space. Your thoughts surrounded the only one you could focus on, the only one you truly sought after.

Izuku, the boy who managed to swiftly steal your heart even when he hadn't noticed. It didn't take you long to realize how badly you've fallen in love with him, rather that he didn't feel the same.

You knew that once you started getting closer. He finally admitted his eyes were on her.

You exhaled, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for her."

Uraraka was such a beam of light, spreading it everywhere she went. Yea, you thought her smile was cute and she had a great personality.

You just didn't expect izuku to think that -- but ten times more. You didn't expect to see the one you admired to go chase after someone you were close friends with. Even after a while of talking with her she confessed her crush on him as well.

You closed your eyes, thinking back to the day when you knew izuku could never be yours.

-------------------------------------------------.

"Hey, midoriya!" Denki giggled, slightly nudging you as his eyes sparked with excitement. You tried your best to laugh along with him but all that came out was a weak breath of air coming out of your lips, making it painfully obvious you were faking it. Not that he noticed though.

"Hm?" The green-haired student turned his head towards you and denki -- or rather the whole group that stood behind you as well. "What's...up?"

"When are you gonna confess to Uraraka already?" The whole group yelled in sync, your voice barely audible as you joined in.

Izuku immediately spat out the water he was drinking as his face concerted into a deep shade of red, his embarrassment would've been funny or even cute to you if it were any other moment in time, just not now. "W-what?"

Uraraka was sitting at the same table he was on, her expression not so far off from your -- or her, crush. "Eh?" Her hands wobbled, the cup in her hands dangerously close to spilling when she looked at the group.

"Man, do we have to do it for you or what?" Mina folded her arms dramatically as if she just got told an insult from someone. Izuku flinched, his face calming down from being a complete tomato as he slowly turned to glance in your direction. His eyes seemed like they were almost asking for your approval.

You two became close friends over the year, meaning you were most likely the one he always turned his head to whenever he needed help with something important. That's what friends are for in the end, right? You were thankful for all the memories you had together, the times you both laughed together until you couldn't breathe, when he was there if you needed a shoulder to cry on. It all wasn't going down the drain, no,

But it sure felt like it.

You blinked, quickly admiring his eyes as they practically sparkled with anticipation. That would be the last time you would let yourself look at him in that way.

"Go for it, midoriya."

✓

#ig this is another verions of the small drabble i made but not exactly the part two I'm gonna write #im still gonna write another part where the reader gets with izuku finally just wait .....#anyways here's another angst cause why not #izuku x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku #mha #deku x reader #deku x y/n #mha midoriya #midoriya izuku #drabble #mha fanfiction #mha izuku

160 notes · View notes

just-before-dawn · 1 year

Text

someone should make gifset of the tuggoffelees wiggle dance from different productions do you know what im talking about

#that arm wiggle dance thing they do during his dance solo where tugger dances with him #that one #that small moment makes me cry #tuggoffelees #rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees #peach drabbles

22 notes · View notes

onboardsorasora · 6 months

Text

#I kinda wanna write some Dewis but I have no clue where to start.#I'll let an idea come to me and maybe write a drabble #start small like I did with maxiel

4 notes · View notes

celestialtrolls · 4 months

Note

Rennra. Why is it so important you find your Ancestor? Do you need something from her or?

"The Queen of Hearts, Creator Ceremiré Nostam."

"A legendary figure from the past, founder of Suits Carnival, rumoured to have the ability to create anything from nothing."

"You understand the title now, right? She's not called the Creator for no reason. Buildings, animals, weapons, things that can't even logically exist, she can make them all, somehow. Seems like even some of the buildings in this city were just constructed by her powers alone, rather than genuinely built."

"I can kind of tell which ones are by her, they look strange in my vision, like they aren't made from the materials they look like externally. They're much more dense."

"Regardless, she actually has another power too, although supposedly uses it less because of it's... side-effects, which is destruction. Can't have one without the other."

"Now, it seems like, as identical twins, these two powers actually got divided between me and Aelynn. She has the destruction, and it's fucking terrifying. You don't know how fragile your existence feels when you can literally see cracks forming in reality."

"I didn't think I had anything, but when Dragonmom started destroying the planet that time... I was so... ...Something changed, and since then, whenever I get really scared or anxious... I can't stop these crystals forming."

"I need to find her, I need to watch how she uses her powers, how she shapes it into something less useless than fragments. I don't... want to have to talk to her, meet her, but I want some kind of lead to how I can get better."

#okay rennra stop monologuing now #Rennra RP #that is a link to the drabble where his powers started acting up for the first time #it's not required reading it's only a small detail #but i thought the context would be nice #Ask Stuff #windy trickster

3 notes · View notes

every-dayiwakeup · 2 years

Text

Billy finally finding his way out of the Upside Down... only to find that while he was gone, the world kept spinning. Everyone he knows is either old or dead, while he hasn't aged a day since Starcourt.

Billy Hargrove hadn't left a dent, or even a scuff mark on the world. Forgotten. Left behind. A cruel theme to a tragic song.

Looks like not everything's changed, the grubby boy thinks bitterly, his pitiful lungs adjusting poorly to bumfuck Indiana's shitty oxygen supply. He gags, vomitting up some of the grime and blood tickling his tonsils.

Call him ungrateful, but why couldn't he have ended up in California? Why here? Anywhere but here.

Crawling out of Hell and face-planting into cow shit was something no man should have to experience sober. There ought to be a fucking law.

An actual cow (no doubt the one who's shat he rolled into) with particularly saggy pink teats stares at him lazily, chewing a patch of grass dangerously close to his hair.

Dear God, please let weed still be legal...

*****

Tags: (lmk if you want to be added 🥰🎨🤡)

@ouizzyharringrove

@whoringrove

@polaris-ursae

@wixterirox

@harringroveho

@spaceboxkitty

@thatawkwardlittlefangirl

@emeraldwitches

@geormenia

@namorian

@shipworm

@hardestgrove

40 notes · View notes

itsahotminuteinbetween · 9 months

Text

You fume, anger built up throughout the entire trial finally fizzing over. You did not come all this way to be cast off with the wave of a hand. You bang your fist against the table, immediately silencing the buzzing courtroom save for a few surprised gasps. You ignore the immediate pain tingling through your fingers and clench your shaking fist to force yourself to focus. You refuse to be ignored, refused to remain silent to be told what to do. You wanted to be heard and by the stars above they were going to hear you whether they liked it or not.

Your gaze snaps upwards, burning holes into the judge. The room is eerily still. "I keep these two-" your eyes flicker to the pair of handcuffed and dented individuals watching you before landing back on the Council, "-for three months and fix them up. If they're better by then, you let them go."

It isn't a question.

The judge swallows quietly, fingers tapping against the Bench. There are hushed whispers throughout the room, and everyone awaits a verdict with baited breath. Finally, one is reached. The judge meets your gaze and nods slightly. "Very well," they concede. "Your terms are...adequate."

You nod and turn on your heel, indicating wordlessly to the court that they made the right decision. You let them work out the paperwork themselves. No fool in this town, no matter how stupid, tries to cross you. They know what will happen to them if they make another choice behind your back.

You turn to the opposite table, eyes landing once again on the bots. There's a question burning in your eyes. The guards attempt to speak up and protest, but you silence them with a hard glare that warns them not to argue and they fall silent. You address the slightly shaken robots with an incline of the head and a flick of the wrist, motioning for them to follow. They stand up silently, the yellow one stumbling quickly in your direction while the blue one shuffles over slowly with its head hung low. You wait a few seconds before setting off with the pair in tow, throwing the heavy doors open with a satisfying slam and continuing with controlled, even strides.

The yellow one pipes up timidly after a while of tense silence. "T-thank y-"

"Don't thank me yet," you cut him off tersely, allowing another silent storm to sweep you up and hang over you again. The perked up appendages sticking out of its head retract slightly at your harsh tone. The blue one merely regards you with a wary gaze and treads softly behind you. Their hands clink together in the iron shackles still restraining them.

It's a long walk back to the cabin.

(au where y/n is a hermit in a civilization set a few thousand years from now. Sun and Moon have miraculously survived, though they're not in the best shape with the major rust and damage. They power back on suddenly and attempt to find a place to stay, only to find themselves caught in the midst of a city where no one has ever heard of nor laid eyes on a robot. They're quickly surrounded by sentinel and taken captive for questioning. Y/n, an eccentric who lives on the offshore of the town, is summoned because of their expertise [and b/c their presence is so influential and simultaneously intimidating that it feels wrong not to have them there. Besides, who know what they would do if they found out someone held a meeting without their presence?] Y/n takes the boys under their care and now has to fix them up before they're scrapped by the Council. Less romantic and more platonic 'lay a finger on my metal brothers you'll become much more acquainted with your organs outside of your body' sort of thing).

#sorry to bother #don't mind me #au #uhhh how do i tag this #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf y/n #small thing #not a drabble but that's the tag I'm putting it under cuz that's where I put my short stuff #drabble #uh anywho #should I tag dca-prompts with this?#maybe

5 notes · View notes