#writing drabbles

[ask-the-prose]

Dabbling in Drabbles

This week I want to discuss drabbles! This guide was prompted by a friend in my Writer's Block discord server.

What is a drabble?

A drabble is a short-form story characterized by its word count of EXACTLY 100 words. Not 99. Not 101. 100.

Drabbles are just like other short stories, with characters, a plot, and a setting. Drabbles are an excellent test of precision and brevity. The goal is to tell a complete story in 100 words, which is no easy feat.

Where do I even start?

Like any story of any length, a drabble requires characters, a setting, and a plot. Begin where it best suits you. A character or two makes an excellent starting point. Who stars in your drabble, and what do they do? What do they want, and will they get it?

You might consider the setting of your drabble. Is there conflict or stakes that come easily to that setting? How does your character interact with their surroundings?

How am I supposed to fit a plot in 100 words?

Writing drabbles is a lesson in editing. Try writing out your drabble first. Go back and edit. What is absolutely necessary to the story? How can you reword sentences to reach that exact goal of 100 words? In this situation, “kill your darlings” may help.

Kill your darlings doesn’t necessarily mean killing off the character or getting rid of everything you like. It means you are taking out what doesn’t serve the story. Whether you like the cut bits or not doesn’t matter. It’s about what best suits the story. With drabbles, you must be especially vicious in your editing.

Conclusion

Did you know the last section is exactly 100 words? It’s not very long, is it? Drabbles are quite challenging, but they are incredibly interesting to read and so much fun to write. Edit mercilessly, my friends!

– Indy

#writing advice #writing tips #writing resources #writeblr #amwriting #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing help #writing guide #drabble #drabbles #writing drabble #writing drabbles

[xwingsandohs]

did anyone say good omens fanfic x cupid!reader ?!?!?

good evening tumblr. i have many thoughts for the ineffable fandom. can’t get out of my head a cupid!reader that crowley hangs out with now that azi is gone?!?? broken heart crowley?!?! crowley x reader smut ?!? gender neutral reader?!?!? gender bending crowley?!?!? sex shop running cupid ?!?!?!??! 🫣🤔🤭🪽

I wrote a drabble. Please send thoughts. May write a fic 🫣 XOXO, xwingsandohs.

Angels and demons have always been assigned their roles on earth to protect peace and create chaos, but it’s in the 15th century (or so) that the Almighty notices that humans have evolved themselves beyond simple procreation. And so God creates the Cupids, not necessarily a legion of angels and definitely not demonic, but a collection of holy beings powered by Earthly love to bring happiness and prosperity to humanity in new ways.

Where Aziraphale was defined by white hair and golden clothes, Crowley recognised by fiery red locks and sleek suits; this particular Cupid is defined by a rainbow of colours, patterns and flowers for every occasion.

It’s been three months since Aziraphale left for Heaven’s gates, or escalators to be more accurate, and your attempts to foster and create love in London has suffered thanks to a certain lonely demon moping around. Crowley can’t admit he just needs the company.

“Coffee?” You ask, Crowley hums positively. “What would you like?”

“Something strong.” He’s sitting on a lovely green couch in the back room of your shop, sprawled in all his comfort. It’s decorated with a variety of silly cushions, one particular eye-catching one being bright blue with orange tassels.

The room is littered with beige boxes of spare stock and new deliveries, but you still keep it looking bright with a mis-matched collection of hanging prints and printed wallpaper. You keep it on theme with what you stock.

“I know that, silly.” You shake your head and smile as always, you both do this routine most mornings. The coffee bean grinder grunts loudly and you pick out two big mugs from the cupboard. “What shall I try draw in your coffee with the milk? You know I’ve been practising.”

You have been practising. Despite coffee not being the main draw of your high street shop, you have a vision of giving out free drinks to customers if you can master the art of the latte. You’re getting better, actually.

“A leaf.” Your friend responds, standing up and heading towards you.

“You say that every time!”

Crowley picks up the yellow striped mug you’d taken out for his drink.

“I like the leaf.”

He’s nonchalant. He puts the mug back and looks around for the one he wants.

“But it’s easy and I’d like a challenge. Something silly.”

You grin up at him with a little humour, and he looks back to you with a raised brow.

He can’t find the mug.

You look up and find the mug immediately. It’s completely plain and black, with a slightly lighter shade of grey on the inside. He bought it and gave it to you especially for his drinks. You always fight back.

“Fine.” Crowley says with exasperation. “How about….” He looks around for inspiration in your decor, finding little that he wishes to ask for. “A tree?”

“Oh, I know!” You almost cut him off, exclaiming. He doesn’t know why you bother asking, again, this is your routine. His eyes roll and you can sense it without even seeing. “I’ve just remembered something I saw online the other day and I’d like to try it out.”

“Sure.” He rubs across his face with his hands then spins on the spot to head back to a seat on the couch. The milk steamer screeches and he considers it his cue.

“Could you do me a quick favour before I unlock the doors?” He stops, seconds away from reclaiming comfort on the velvet. He’s not your assistant, but you tend to always ask for these little things.

“I know you’re not my assistant, but there’s a pile of online orders printed out that I need to put together. Could you grab that pile from upstairs for me? It’s next to the-“

“The computer.” He finishes. Routinely.

You finish the coffee.

By the time he’s brought down the pile of paper and placed it where you like it behind the till incase of a quiet moment, you’re skipping over to unlock the door and flip the sign to ‘Open!’ Before it hits 9:01.

Then you rush back to grab the two mugs.

Crowley looks around at the shelves and pegs that hold the stock and shakes his head at everything he sees, humans and their rubbish. He does however appreciate the collection of green plants that have found a place amongst the shelves since he’d been spending lots of time here. They perhaps even look happier than his own, or maybe the colourful shelves really bring out their green.

“I wonder what lovely people will walk through our doors today?” You say with a smile, taking your first sip of coffee and smearing the pattern. Your hand holds out the other cup to Crowley.

He shrugs, takes the coffee from your hand and looks down at the pattern. “It’s a…”

“-A seahorse!” He wouldn’t have guessed it really, but when you point it out he notices. It’s definitely an animal of some sort.

“I like it.” He doesn’t really care for it, but you seem to like the labour, he understands that care. “Although it’s a little…”

He’s not going to say the word.

You’re still grinning, you know the word.

“A little…?” You ask.

“You know, it’s…” He doesn’t say.

“Phallic?” You say it. He doesn’t look away from the coffee.

“Phallic.” He confirms with an unsurprising demeanour .

“I know!” You giggle, he shakes his head.

“You really do take this all very seriously, don’t you?” Crowley chuffs as he leans back against the counter and takes his first sip.

“You could say it’s all about passion in this business.”

Well…. What else would a Cupid sell? The bell above the door rings.

“Good morning.” You call to the first two customers that come through the door. They respond politely back. “Welcome to Sugar ‘n’ Spice, let us know if we can help with anything.”

“Actually, we were looking for some bondage gear?” The lady says as her partner shrinks slightly behind her.

“Of course! Let me introduce you to our selection and then I’ll leave you to shop on your own.”

#here to bring chaos #and smut #and chaos #good omens #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #crowley x reader #cupid!reader #cant really remember the inspo #writing drabbles #good omens drabbles

[avvail-whumps]

TEMPTATION

cw: restraints, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumper, reluctant whumper, gore, blood

Riley stepped into the kitchen to find that the whumpee had been restrained to the ground, their hands twisted behind their back as the sniper’s boot dug painfully into their spine. He paused for a fraction of a second, the sniper’s head tilting towards him as he hung up the call, and tossed his phone on the kitchen counter. 

Riley’s eyes trailed down to the writhing whumpee, who was yelling and panting violently through the fabric stuffed inconsiderately into their mouth. His lips pressed into a thin line as he pocketed his phone. 

“So,” he hummed, feeling slightly uncomfortable. His hands slid into his pockets wearily. “Why’d you call?” 

The sniper ground his heel into the whumpee’s back just to feel them squirm, before his dark eyes met Riley’s, the mask concealing the bottom half of his face. His hands moved smoothly, making Riley squint. 

“Want you to hold them still,” the sniper signed, pointing to the whumpee on the floor. “Want to try something.” 

Riley stayed planted where he was, his expression wrinkling slightly as he tried to follow the motions of his hands, before shaking his head and sighing sharply. “You know I don’t understand what you’re saying, right?” 

The sniper’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Riley rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, avoiding those eyes. He had said he’d keep trying to learn, but it wasn’t easy when he’d been so busy helping the sniper with…these kinds of things. He cleared his throat, taking a hesitant step forward. 

“You need me to…get something?” He asked, and the sniper shook his head, pointing at the whumpee again. Riley hummed. 

“Hold them?” He guessed, and the sniper nodded his head once. Riley grimaced, but he had no choice but to do as he was told when he took his boot off their back. They immediately started squirming against the kitchen tiles, and Riley crouched down to gently grab their arms. 

“Hang on, stop moving,” he murmured softly under his breath, trying to somewhat console the sobbing whumpee in any way he could. His grip almost gave way when they thrashed violently, and he tightened his grasp with a small frown. “Fuck.” 

His eyes trailed up to the sniper, who signed a subtle “idiot.” 

“Careful,” Riley scoffed. “I know what that means.” 

He focused on trying to hold the whumpee down so they didn’t slip away, knowing that would end up in a bloodbath on the carpets, and the sniper would make him clean the stains.

Riley begrudgingly watched the sniper, who had taken out a glass and a rolling pin, and winced when he smashed it against the counter. He only stopped when they were tiny little shards, and gathered them up in his gloved hand. 

When he began making his way back towards the whumpee, Riley felt his stomach twist in dreaded realisation.

“Sniper, that’s going to make a mess,” he grit out, his face paling slightly when the gag was ripped out of the whumpee’s mouth, choosing to ignore him. Before the whumpee could even take a deep breath, the sniper was pushing the glass shards into their mouth, covering it firmly to prevent them from spitting it out. With a few applications of pressure on their own throat coaxing them to swallow, he finally removed his hand. 

Riley felt them hacking violently, each garbled intake of breath tearing their throat and their mouth up even further. He heard the tickle of some shards hitting the ground, surrounded in an ever growing pool of blood, their body writhing and frantically convulsing. 

Riley squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head aside as he kept a firm grip on their arms, not giving them a chance to move as they shook with choking shrieks.

“Shit,” he whispered shakily under his breath, his own throat swelling with this phantom pain as they continued to gag and heave mouthfuls of blood. He hated that it had lasted for so long, too, until he felt the moment their body slumped forward, the occasional sickening drip drop of blood from their lips hitting the tiles. 

The sniper had watched the whole thing contently, and when Riley finally found the strength to lift his head up, his eyes landing on him. Despite the mask, Riley could see he was smiling in satisfaction. 

“Let’s do that with the next one.”

#prompt winners #temptation was glass #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #multiple whumpers #reluctant whumper #generic whumpee #writing drabbles #drabble #writing #my writing #the sniper and riley #avvail whumps #these lads have been consuming my waking hours oh myyy #a mute sniper and an idiot who can't communicate with him #oh they're the perfect pair #got lots of stuff planned for them but if there are any questions feel free to drop them in my inbox >:) #or requests 👀

[judgementdaysunshine]

Winnie the Pooh quotes as prompts

Divider credits to @saradika-graphics

"If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart I'll stay there forever"

"We're not wasting the day [Name], we're recovering from yesterday"

"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart"

"How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard"

"Anyone can show up when you're happy, but the ones who stay by your side when your heart falls apart, they are your true friends"

"Life is a journey to be experienced, not a problem to be solved"

"When life throws you a rainy day, play in the puddles"

"It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine"

"Any day spent with you is my favorite day, so today is my new favorite day"

"A hug is always the right size"

"Some people care too much, I think it's called love"

"Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them"

"If you live to be a hundred, I hope to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you"

"What if I fall? Oh but my darling what if you fly?"

"Keep looking up, that's the secret of life"

"We cannot be happy every day but happy things happen every day"

"How do you spell love? You don't spell love [Name], you feel it"

"I'm never afraid with you"

"A little consideration, a little thought for others makes all the difference"

"Your smile is a reason for many others to smile"

"The things that make me different are the things that make me"

"As soon as I saw you, I knew a grand adventure was about to happen"

"Friendship is a very comforting thing to have"

"I don't feel very much like [Name] today" "I'll bring you tea and honey until you do"

"It wasn't much good having anything exciting if you couldn't share them with somebody"

"Promise me you'll never forget me because if I thought you would, I'd never leave"

"Did you ever stop to think and forget to start again?"

"You can't stay in your corner of the forest waiting for people to come to you, you have to go to them sometimes"

"A friend is one of the nicest things you can have and one of the best things you can be"

"I love you simply because you're you"

#writing drabbles #winnie the pooh quotes #my writing #writing prompts #writing prompt

[writing-in-sin]

In the Nick of Time

Based on my old post, where Kaito's busiest day date was on the same day when Shinichi followed after Vodka. Seeing the detective chasing a man who dressed similarly to Snake made Kaito run after Shinichi, saving him in the nick of time from Gin

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

It was honestly by chance.

Beyond a sense of unease, Kaito didn't think much of the murder by the roller coaster that had a whole crowd gathering around. That is, until he spies the foreboding figures of the two men in black standing by the rows of witnesses

Worried and alarmed, he made sure to send Aoko back with Jii before he carefully blends into the crowd and watches, almost unbiddenly, as the famous high school detective solves the murder in record time. On any other day, Kaito would allow himself to be impressed but as it is, he's more focused on the two men that he can only assumed to be colleagues of Snake's

But why? There's no Big Jewel on display, he'd know if that was the case. In fact, the only Big Jewel nearby was the Angel's Crown he barely managed to steal and used to clear his name merely an hour ago.

Well, whatever the reason is, it's never a good idea to be careless around anyone resembling people like Snake.

"Go on ahead, Ran!"

"Wait, Shinichi...!"

Although, it seems like Kudou didn't get the very obvious memo if running after the stockier man is anything to go by

"Shit," he curses under his breath, conjuring a cap before chasing after the reckless detective

As if today wasn't busy enough already!

Finding the detective is easy enough, spying the younger teen hiding nearby out of sight. No, not good enough. Not when there's supposed to be two of those bastards

Spying a flash of silver, Kaito quickly whisks Kudou within the shadows just as the silver haired man rounds the corner. Before the detective can struggle, Kaito firmly traps Kudou in his arms, a hand clamping against the other teen's mouth while wrapping an arm around Kudou's waist

"Don't," he growls in warning as Kudou stands rigid in his hold, the detective's back flushed against his chest. "Not unless you want to get us both killed."

Miraculously, Kudou stays still

After a moment of painful eternity waiting, the two men finally walk away with their sniveling accomplice in tow. But Kaito's been hunted by these men long enough to know that he needs to be extra cautious even if the coast is seemingly clear. So with care, he guides Kudou away from the scene until they're at a safe enough distance

Once satisfied, he lets go, barely avoiding the kick to the head with a mocking laugh

"Is that how you thank someone who just saved your life, Heisei Holmes?"

Kudou glares, pale and flushed. "Who the hell are you?"

"Me?" Kaito chuckles, giving a showman's bow. "Why, I'm but a humble thief."

Kudou falters at that, confused. "...a thief?"

"Yes."

A gentle breeze rustles the canopy above them, streams of moonlight cutting across the darkness of the night as Kaito stands across the detective.

Kaito grins, wide and unholy. "Kaitou KID to be exact."

#kaishin #kaishin au ideas #kaito kuroba #kaitou 1412 #kaitou kid #kuroba kaito #magic kaito #dcmk #shinichi kudou #shinichi kudo #kudo shinichi #kudou shinichi #kaito x shinichi #detective conan #meitantei conan #drabbles #kaishin drabbles #writing drabbles

[hideawaysplace]

Rockstar Freddy found counting coins therapeutic, a way to calm himself, considering the current circumstances and the fact everyone seemed to willingly get along with the Glamrocks.

He understood Lefty’s kindness, he was always open to others, and given the other bear also being a father, them getting along was reasonable and he could tolerate it. He couldn’t stand the other Rockstars getting along with the Glamrocks through.

He did talk to them about those shiny bots stealing their business.

He huffed and slid a coin tower across to the other organized towers.

He heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” He asked, assuming it was most likely Bonnie as he usually didn’t get anyone else visiting him.

“It is me.”

His face immediately soured, he didn’t want to let him in but he knew if he didn’t he would be scolded about it later.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Glamrock Freddy slowly stepped into the room.

“What do you want?”

“I was looking for you.”

“Well you found me, you may now leave, I’m busy.”

“Can I please just talk to you?” Glamrock Freddy pleaded, “I want to get rid of this horrible tension in the air.”

“Alright, speak then,” Rockstar Freddy sneered, “Then get out.”

He nodded, “I know… We certainly have not gotten off on the best foot, I know, my only excuse is that I expected friendship right away because I easily befriended Lefty and Helpy and it was not fair to also expect you to warm up to me immediately.”

Rockstar Freddy ignored him, going back to stacking coins.

“I just hope this doesn’t negatively affect things with everyone else, I mean— have you seen the Rockstar Chica getting along with Glamrock Chica? They click so well, I mean, your Chica obviously loves making food and ours loves eating! It’s perfect! Oh and Roxy and Foxy? They’re actually bringing out the best in each other. Foxy was encouraging Roxy to do her best and have fun at the race course yesterday, I thought Roxy would fight him honestly but nope they get along swell! The Daycare Attendant also with Security, I’ve seen them having these tea parties together, well Security does not call them tea parties but they get along very good. And your Bonnie is actually starting to warm up to Monty which is fantastic! The DJ has not met your Music Man but they’ve talked over the screen and they really have great conversations about music, both so passionate about everything! I do get along too with Lefty—“

“So I’ve noticed,” Rockstar Freddy replied in a very cold sounding tone which startled Glamrock Freddy. “You have much in common, you’ve spend a lot of time with him.”

“Uh— Yes we do,” He lost track of his words for a moment, given Rockstar Freddy’s tone, “Look, we can all get along obviously, I do not want you to be alone and isolate yourself while everyone else is having fun, you do not have to spend time with me per say but I think you being alone is not okay. Bonnie- Your Bonnie told me you don’t usually isolate yourself, you like to be involved and I can only think it is because of me.”

Rockstar Freddy raised his eyebrow.

“I just hope one day we can get along and be friends, not right now of course, I think you are a strong leader and a good influence on your band and I think we could get along very well, not just for the sake of this collaboration, but for friendship.”

Rockstar Freddy stopped counting the coins.

“You don’t get it do you?”

Glamrock Freddy frowned.

“I don’t want to be your friend,” Rockstar Freddy pushed one coin tower towards the group of coin towers. “I don’t even like you, I don’t like your Chica, I don’t like Monty, I don’t like Roxy, I don’t like DJ, I don’t like the Daycare Attendant, I don’t care about any of you. I tolerate you, merely because Lefty likes your company, however his opinion doesn’t change mine.”

“I do not understand, what did I do wrong?” Glamrock Freddy asked.

“Your existence! You fail to realize but since this place opened, we’ve lost 20% of business! Our former customers are coming here instead because you apparently have “more to offer”! Due to the sheer size of this place we can’t even compete with you! It is on a slow decline but I know the decline may get more rapid, we might be on a sinking ship, me, the Rockstars, including Lefty, you might drive us out of business! What are we supposed to do if that happens?! We’ll all be scrap metal!”

“We could all work together.”

“Why would I work with the bear that’s stealing our customers? This isn’t even a fair level, your Pizzaplex is huge, we’ve only got so much we can offer to people but they will always go for more, it’s so unfair, you aren’t even fair competition, you make our pizzeria look like cheap trash!”

Glamrock Freddy was trying to calculate a response to his words when Rockstar Freddy snapped his fingers.

“Get out,” He pointed to the door, “I don’t want to see your brightly colored face.”

Instead of arguing Glamrock Freddy just nodded and left the room.

#Writing #Just some crumbs of what I'm writing #Writing Drabbles #Glamrock Freddy #Rockstar Freddy #Five Nights at Freddy's

[have-a-treato]

Even now

Have another prompt drabble, this time featuring Tasha and Gale (of Credentials and Distraction) in an alternate ending scenario where Gale becomes a god.

For context, Tasha is a white dragon draconic bloodline sorcerer.

His back looked different. 

His scapula sharper than before, his shoulders straighter. No softness, no easy bend to his head, just straight and determined. Cold. 

“Even now? After all we’ve been through?” she asked.  

His chin turned slightly toward her, the only indication she would get that he was listening. She could see the faint marks of his Netherese orb on his cheek from this angle, a terrible reminder of the future he was marching toward.  

“Yes. Everything we’ve been through should be evidence enough that I need to do this. But we’ve exhausted that conversation,” He answered her, steel in his voice.  

“We have,” she whispered, nodding to herself as her eyes bore into his back. 

She would let him go, let him sink into the cold well of his own fate. She was no stranger to cold, was not afraid of it, but once he froze the blood in his veins the man she knew would die. The warmth she fell in love with, the heart she held in her hands, would cease to exist. Only the shell would remain.  

“You can still join me,” he said, his chin turning forward again, as if he already knew her answer.  

Nothing needed to be said. There was nothing left, except goodbye.  

“Gale...” she began, closing her eyes, unable to speak to his back like this. And doubly so, when she opened her mouth to tell him, to speak all the pain in her heart at losing him, she found she could not. In truth, all had been said that needed saying. Nothing would sway him now.  

She was not enough.  

He knew as much, and was already walking away when she opened her eyes. His back broad, his spine straight, and a jagged crown in his hands.  

“Goodbye Gale,” she whispered to no one.  

--- 

Nearly a year later, she sometimes felt a cold snap within her magic as she cast. She was ice itself, but this was the primal cold needle of something other. It felt proud, it felt steely, it felt... lonely.  

But gods do not regret, and human hearts like hers do not forgive. 

Even now, after all they’d been through. 

#bg3 oc: tasha #angst #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #writing drabbles

[coffeedrawingandwriting]

Ko-Fi!!!

Howdy all! I have a ko-fi! Have for a bit but I never got around to posting it till now. I'm not in need of funds, so please don't feel pressured to give anything. I'm figuring this all out as well. If you do decide to tip me, I will write a drabble from Undertale/FNAF SB per any one donation! Right now, I am most comfortable with x reader or Undertale/FNAF characters (non romantic).

I might be open to doing OCs in the future, but it's easier for me to do more simple things at the moment.

Quick request to keep it SFW and non-explicit, please!

$4 Donations: 250 words

$6 Donations: 350 words

$10 Donations: 500 words

$15 Donations: 1000 words

Thank you for all your support!

My Ko-Fi - Reblogs Appreciated!

#writing #writing drabbles #ko-fi #with that being said I am closing commissions #baby steps lol #really nervous but let's give this a shot! #coffeedrawingandwriting #undertale #fnaf sb #sans #x reader #no shipping please #just character interactions

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

dear mike,

hi. sorry, that was a really, you know, adulty way to start a letter.

dearest michael, i hope this letter finds you well-

it's kind of weird that i'm even writing this instead of just coming to see you in the sick bay, but mrs gracey told me to. anyway, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have wobbled the rope bridge while you were going across it, i didn't know you were going to fall off. i thought we were having fun. sorry. i've been thinking about this lately. sorry if i, you know, offend you, or say something rude. i don't actually mean it. i really do like you. i'm glad we're friends.

also, if you do forgive me, you might have to tell will that. he hasn't spoken to me all day (he gets really protective over you). i think he's mad at me, but i can never really tell. he's a bit too nice for his own good.

i don't think i'm very nice.

but that's okay though. i don't think you're very nice either. that's why we can be friends.

i put my lollipop from recess in here. you can have it. sorry again.

from max.

#kindergarten madwheeler is something that can be so personal- #madwheeler #platonic madwheeler #idk what this is #writing drabbles #byler #<- background but im tagging it cuz i can #mike wheeler #max mayfield #ive been obsessed with the idea of five year old little madwheeler #on the playground #doing shennanigans #ficlet

[oneshoulderangel]

How the Cornwall Gang Celebrates Valentine’s Day

Tristan: Goes all out. Bouquet of a dozen roses, chocolates, fancy dinner at an expensive restaurant. He and his date will both be turning heads in their best dress. He’s ready to sweep them off their feet and into the nearest hotel room.

Isolde: Forgot it was Valentine’s Day until someone reminded her. Still expects a box of chocolate and a nice dinner. She makes sure to go all out getting ready for the evening. She’ll make it a night to remember so hopefully next year it won’t sneak up on her.

Palomides: Spent a whole lot of time trying to find the perfect gift. Eventually he finds something but is still super nervous his date won’t like it. Cooks a nice quiet candle lit dinner at home and presents his lover with single red rose at the door.

Brangaine: Made a little basket full of goodies like homemade sweets, heart shaped confetti, Knick knacks and a cute little stuffed animal.

Dinadan: Remembers it’s Valentine’s Day, still doesn’t do anything except send some funny memes to his friends. He expects to have a quiet evening alone enjoying his own company and treating himself. He does end up with a nice box of his favorite chocolate and a big stuffed animal from Palomides and Brangaine thanking him for being their friend.

#shoulderangelcomics #writing drabbles #Cornwall gang

[thorneyes]

Burn Blue and Sickly

No battlefield is ever pleasant, or honorable - they're filthy, sickening. The smell of death and blood and a dozen other terrible things sinks into her clothes, her hair, her skin, and refuses to let go for days.

Rohesia picks through this one with her face buried behind her collar, taking shallow breaths through her mouth. It doesn’t get rid of the smell, and she finds herself wishing for a helmet she no longer carries. Stifling as the damn thing was, it at least helped cover her face. Here and now, at the edges of the Tangle, she has to hope for the weather to break and call up a breeze.

It doesn't seem likely. The weather is humid, the air still and sodden, and only fills the site of the skirmish with the added layer of rotting plants and fetid water.

Under the wreckage of an Imperial Reaper, Rohesia spots one final body. She holds her breath as she kneels down to check, but - no, the burns are obvious. Even if she had been here during the fight, these wounds would likely have been enough to kill the man.

She rocks back on her heels, mouth thinning. "Dead," she says brusquely.

"That makes four," says Kokorusa - the second member of this thrown-together little party. He's not looking at bodies, the bastard. He's standing guard on top of the hill, out of the way of the smell, resting a hand on his sword. "Three Imperials… you finished your rites, Quiet?"

Quiet Elk, the third and final member of this grim little foray, rises to his feet, a body cradled in his black-robed arms. Not in the black and red of the Imperial outpost barely clinging to existence at the edge of Revenant’s Toll, but the tough leathers of a caravan guard. Quiet Elk nods, and lays the body next to the magitek Reaper.

Rohesia steps back, more than happy to give that creepy fucker his space - Nald'thal priests seem to be weird as a fact of their oath, but this one especially makes her skin crawl. He doesn't answer Kokorusa, but sets to arranging the bodies.

Kokorusa eyes Quiet Elk for a moment, then seems to give up on getting an answer. "Well, we've got their gil back," he says, hefting the pouch. "And they'll get their memento – Seven Hells!"

The sudden roar of a fire - of an explosion - nearly drowns out the last of Kokorusa's words. Rohesia turns with the lalafel, reaching for her crook as the swordsman draws his blade - but it's only Quiet Elk, staff in hand, stepping back from the Reaper, which he's clearly used as a makeshift pyre. The fire crackles, the spilt fuel of the twisted magitek Reaper beginning to stain the flickering fire with blue.

"Twelve, Quiet, you could at least give some damn warning," Rohesia starts to snap, advancing a step to focus her glare on the hooded thaumaturge. Then it hits her. The smell. Burning bodies, laced with the choking smoke of burning ceruleum, and Rohesia gags on it, stumbling back as she fights the bile rising, her head full of twisted metal and blackened bodies.

By the time she blinks them away, she's lost time. A few moments, but - the other two have noticed. Fuck. There's a hand on her arm - Quiet Elk, with a grip too tight that's nevertheless doing a good part of keeping her upright - and Kokorusa is giving her a head tilted look, a frown on his mustachioed face.

"Going to lose your lunch, Thorneyes?" He asks, tapping at his chin.

"Shut th' fuck up," Rohesia growls. She can hear her accent going thicker, but fuck them both, anyroad. If they can't already tell she's Ala Mhigan they're both idiots. She yanks her arm out of Quiet Elk's grasp. "We should go. That smoke'll kill you."

She sees the look the two exchange - but it doesn't fucking matter. When she starts to walk, they follow.

Fuck this job anyway, she thinks. The money isn't worth this.

#Thorneyes #Writing drabbles #cw: corpses #cw: mentions of vomiting #Sometimes my brain just decides to write 600 words about Roh's ptsd at midnight #This one is a bit dead dove #Cw: cremation #Ish? It probably counts #my writing

[stark-alchemy]

For the "Insert Tidal Here" Splatoon AU, I wanted to give a bit of a darker story to how Sun and Moon met and then met Stark. they themselves have been through a lot, and their adoptive elder brother, a giant deep-sea squid, was separated from them when they were younger. Their actual parents are either missing or dead and while I wasn't intending for angst I tripped and fell in an angst puddle on my way to write this.

Tw: Body Horror, Trauma

So Sun has the most traumatic story of the brothers. His town where he grew up was on the other side of the Ravine, a cave system that had many underground cities under the Splatlands. One of the cities was a very small community of Starfish, Anemones, and some other Clams and Shellfish. A sickness suddenly hit the Starfish and Anemone citizens and after a few weeks it looked like they would be fine...but then the second wave hit. The anemone citizens got super sick, dying off by the handful, as did the clams, but the starfish got it worse. Starfish wasting disease hit hard, and those that were affected were basically mindless zombies of their former selves, ripping off their arms/hair, legs and chopping off other parts in an effort to rid themselves of a disease that was affecting them on a level they couldn't understand. Whole homes turned into crime scenes overnight and there was no nearby doctor prepared for this level of disease. Sun was one of the very lucky few that got sick but didn't get the full disease, but he lost his family in the process and worse the city was hit so hard that people began moving out in droves. Sun was by himself for a long time until he was forced to leave and wander the tunnels looking for a new home.

Moon was not much better off. He was separated from his family after a cave-in wiped his city off the map and left many of them citizens scattered. Moon was trapped inside his home while his family was out getting things and the house wound up several feet under the rocks and sand. After a while, a rescue crew tried to come help survivors but the damage was done. Too many people had been trapped under the crushing weight or worse their homes had caved in on top of them. Moon was at risk for all of this, when they found him he was in the pantry as that was the only part of his home that hadn't collapsed yet. His family was never found lost beneath the sands and he took to the Tunnels to find somewhere else to go.

Eclipse was a Deep Sea Squid who found both boys wandering about the tunnels 2 weeks from each other. He found Moon first and made sure to take care of his needs like making sure he was fed and had proper clothing. When they found Sun, who was missing 2 of his starfish arms due to being sick, afraid, and stressed, he nursed him back to health. Eclipse was kind and careful around the boys but primarily took to fighting any Octarians and Larger beings that would come looking for a fight. One such battle saw that he lost an eye, which worried the boys to no end and bound them tighter as a family. They stayed together for about 2 years before they were forcibly separated and the two brothers had no choice but to head up into the Splatlands for help and a new home.

A few days into their travel, they meet up with Stark, who kindly takes them with her to Splatsville and let's them crash with her while she's doing Turf Wars. They boys are worried that if she leaves for a "war" that she won't come back but she shows them the videos and previous Splatfests and assures them that she'll be fine. Over time they grow more attached especially when Stark gets sick and Sun has a panic attack, that sends Moon into a panic of his own, and they sit down and talk about their pasts and what they want to do going forward. As they grow up, Sun and Moon decide they want to help with Stark's games so they learn to take up cooking (Sun primarily, Moon is best kept away from an open fire) and creating sweet things to share. Along the way they start making the Drops, specialized candies used for enhancing abilities for a shirt period of time in game, but can be eaten at anytime for enjoyment and a boost of energy! Stark shares them with some of her team mates, then the fellow members of the opposing team to keep fun matches balanced, then other teams found out and started asking for orders. Stark tells the boys that they're candies are a hit <they're kinda miffed because they made them for Stark and only her...darn her sharing> and they start planning to open a little pop-up shop that sells them before matches.

Eventually, they set up a store on the main street, "Swell Sweets", and begin making different flavors and styles of sweets but still focus on the Sundrops and Moondrops. Sun runs the store during daytime hours and cooks the batches of candy. Moon runs the shop at night and does candy packaging. Stark does the marketing and is one of the faces that you'll see selling when she isn't doing Turf Wars. Once she ages out of doing Turf Wars with the other teens, she takes up running the store full time with Sun and Moon. Sun can be seen on the streets during Splatfest since he's a huge Deep Cut fan. Moon is more of a fan of Harmony and her former band The Chirpy Chips, having made her a gift basket and also hanging around the store at times and chatting her up about music. Stark, when not in the shop with Sun or Moon, can be found on the main street handing out flyers to advertise.

Through the years, Stark would visit her family in Inkopolis often. When she left her parents had adopted an octoling baby sister and then a year later, gave her a heads up that they were adopting another octoling, a baby brother named Jamo this time. As the years went on, Stark would visit a few weeks out of the year to meet up with her family and then come back home to the Brothers. One day, about 8 years later, however, she brings her back to town. He'd taken an interest in moving to Splatsville to hang out with his sister and also battle in Turf Wars. Their middle sister, Jazz, had decided to stay in Inkopolis and compete there primarily, so he wanted to branch out and explore.

At first Sun and Moon Don't know what to do with this new visitor, especially one taking all their attention away from them. They try to scare him at first, Jamo doesn't live with them and he stays with friends in another apartment, but it doesn't work as they want it to. Sun's overly intense personality and sly attitude only makes Jamo wonder if his sister has been manipulated to stay with them. Moon insists on trying to scare Jamo off, inviting him into the backroom to show him the candy but then using his glow-in-the-dark patterning and extending out his jaws to give him a frightful scare. All Jamo thinks is that his sister is being threatened to stay under pain of death. Eventually, Stark catches on and gets into a fight with them, annoyed that they've been so rude to her brother as well as way too controlling of her life. The brothers apologize to her and try to make up for their actions, inviting Jamo back and gifting him some of the special candy they made for him and giving him a rightful apology as well. And while Jamo doesn't immediately trust them or forgive them, he does understand that they have been close for a long time and they were afraid of the dynamic shifting. He puts up with them for her sake though he still finds them strange

Eventually as things calm down a new shadow is on the horizon...an old lost elder brother from long ago makes a surprising appearance...but I gotta work on his design so I'm taking my time. Hope yall liked my insane ramblings as I fall headfirst into another AU!

#writing drabbles #insert tidal here fic #insert tidal here #fnaf sb au #splatoon au #splatoon 3 au #the daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #self insert #sundrop #moondrop #starfish sun #gulper eel moon #inkling oc #octoling oc #myart #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf au #fnaf sb

[fictional-men-have-my-heart]

Day 20

Hello all! Welcome to day 20. Today's is inspired by the chilly weather that moved into my area recently. I wanted to look at how the Ghost team, Los Vaqueros, and Konig would respond to being sent out for extra guard duty with you on a cold, snowy night. So, let's get into it.

Bone chilling cold isn't really ideal conditions for anything except hiding under a million layers. You swear you were wearing the majority of your wardrobe in an attempt to stave off the chill. Stepping outside meant wind that felt like tiny needles through your clothes and on any exposed skin.

A sea of white awaited outside; blinding during the day but at night was quiet and peaceful. You dreaded the next 2 hours on watch, cramped into a booth with some odd soldier. However, as time passed, the soldier stationed with you began looking worse for wear. After a bit of convincing, they agreed to go to medical.

Price:

He grumbled as he settled into the small guard station with you. He carries a large thermos that he offers out to you.

"Coffee? Might help ward off the chill tonight." You take one of the little plastic cups he holds, smiling a bit at how carefully he poured. Steam billowed off the cup, and you nod at him.

"Thanks, Captain, I think this'll do nicely."

Ghost:

The skull mask somehow looked even more ominous amid the sea of white as he approached. He quickly shuffled inside the shack they called a guard post and shut the door behind him. He nods at you, opting to settle into the seat opposite you. Silence isn't always comfortable with him, but it isn't unpleasant either.

"For how pretty it is out, I could appreciate it more if it wasn't so damn cold." You chuckle, watching your breath fog out in front of you. he nods, digging into his coat pockets briefly before extending a gloved hand. Two small, white pouches sat in it, and you grinned.

"Hand warmers eh? Where'd you find these?" You asked, quickly taking them and tucking one in each pocket.

"Keep 'em on me." He shrugged. You nodded, smiling genuinely now.

"Well, thank you, Ghost. Might be a bit more tolerable to sit here now."

Soap:

The Scot all but ran into the guard station, slamming the door behind him.

"Steamin' Jesus, 'm gonna catch my death out here." He mutters, swiping his gloved hands over his coat.

"How d'ya think I feel, I've been here for an hour now." You snort. He sits beside you before tugging a small heating pack out of his coat layers.

"Hold this. It'll warm you up right quick." He smiles.

"Nah, I'll be alright; it's only another hour after all." You shoo his hands away, but he just plops the pack down on your lap.

"Not an option. Can't let you freeze your fingers off eh?" He nudges your shoulder with his, settling in beside you.

Gaz:

If anyone seemed more irritated to spend time out in this cold, it would be Gaz. The man had waddled- yes waddled- out to the station wrapped in an extra blanket. You were laughing as he entered.

"Hey, quit laughin' at me!" He chastises.

"You look so funky walkin' around like that." You retort. He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Be nice, I was gonna give you the spare but I can keep it-"

"No no no, I'm only kidding you Gaz." He grins, pulling a folded-up blanket out from under the makeshift cloak.

"That's what I thought."

Alejandro:

Brings a blanket and a thermos of hot chocolate, muttering something you think is along the lines of "damn this weather" as he enters the station. He passes the thermos to you, unfolding the blanket and draping it over both of your laps as he sits.

"How anyone functions in this I don't know." He says, shaking his head. You take two cups off the lid and pass them to him, taking off the lid. Rich cocoa is welcome in the chill of the night, and you gently tap the little cup with his.

"To quell the bitter chill, may it not bite us further tonight." You joke. He smiles, sipping on the drink.

Rudy:

Always the smart one, he walks into the station with a small bag and immediately turns to you with a small, triumphant smile.

"Help has arrived." He jokes, revealing a small space heater. He plugs it in and flips the little fan switch, setting it on the table before you two.

"Y'know, I should go get one of these. Feel a little dumb now." You laugh. He smiles, sitting down beside you.

"One too many cold nights and a man can go crazy. That right there keeps my sanity out here." He jokes.

Konig:

Surprisingly, he acts like he's not cold. Sure, he layers up like everyone else. However, when he steps into the guard station you notice the slight shake in his large frame.

"Konig?"

"Yes?"

"Are you cold? I've got some hot cocoa and an extra scarf." You offer, noting how he quickly shifts and tries to hide it.

"I'll be fine, you've been out here longer." He dismisses, waving a hand at you with a kind tone.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Come on, hot cocoa is always good when it's frigid out."

He takes a mug, which then looks much smaller in his hands.

"...thank you." He murmurs, sitting beside you.

"No problem." You smile.

We've got snow chances for the first time this winter where I'm at, so people around me are panic buying milk and bread as per usual. Whether we actually see some snow, who knows. I hope you all enjoy these. Stay warm out there folks.

#cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #simon 'ghost' riley #captain john price #john 'soap' mactavish #kyle 'gaz' garrick #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #konig call of duty #headcanons #chilly nights #snowy weather #hot chocolate #fluffy #feel free to use #tag me if you do #december 20 #thanks yall #writing drabbles

[dangerous-advantage]

donatello makes noodle soup

[Word Count: 1 358]

There were some days when Donnie just. Didn't work.

He could have energy and motivation aplenty, could be bursting at the seams with inspiration.

He'd sit down to work, and everything he put to paper would be reduced to eraser smudges within the hour. Half-finished projects piling up in the corners of his lab, to be repurposed for scrap metal later.

It wasn't an inventive block or burn-out. It was his mind grasping for answers and coming up empty.

To his immense frustration, tonight was one of those nights.

Donnie found himself balanced precariously on a stool at the kitchen counter, knees pulled to his plastron. His forehead was laid upon them, eyes scrunched shut, arms limp at his sides.

Oh, ibuprofen, why do you forsake me?

The rain had started up again. While lovely in concept, the smell and the sound and the city lights reflecting off of city pavement, it kind of hurt.

Ow.

Donnie's three-day "pressure" headache had reached its final form, the mother of all migraines. He could thank his lucky stars he didn't get them as bad as Mikey used to, but the point felt moot.

He'd been useless this week, dragging himself around his lab, stealing scattered snatches of sleep here and there.

It didn't help that he wasn't used to their lair yet. Months after the Shredder and the Kraang attack, he didn't feel at home here.

It felt... different. The silence wasn't loud enough.

He didn't like the restlessness. The past few months had been a continual blur of momentum. Rebuilding the lair. Fixing and upgrading his tech. Taking care of Leo. The list was endless.

Yet, he couldn't make his brain work.

Donnie gave a little grumble and let his legs dangle, bending to press his forehead to the cool stone surface of the tile. He turned his face to the side, squinting out at the lit side of the train car.

He should turn off both overhead lights, but he didn't want to injure his shell in a fall. Which was probably just him being paranoid, but–

His eyes caught on the spine of a cookbook peeking out from a stack on the back corner of the stove-side counter. He frowned (or scowled, since he was already frowning). Where had he–?

Noodle soup.

Donnie sat up, blinking. That was... that was the cookbook. With the recipe for noodle soup. His noodle soup.

He hadn't made that in forever.

Donnie stood, influenced by the gravitational pull of memories. He stumbled over to the counter, freeing the book from its dusty prison. He brushed his hand over the cover. This had come to the new lair?

In their first move, when everything was new and raw, it hadn't occurred to him to go looking. Not with everything else on his mind.

He thumbed through the well-loved pages, instinctually flipping open to the recipe. He stared at it, that same diagram embedded in his brain. When had he forgotten?

I'm making this right now, aren't I?

Resigned to the whims of his heart, he set the cookbook down and went to fetch a stockpot.

He didn't need a recipe to make it. The motions were imprinted in memory. But having the cookbook open was part of the process. It would be wrong to make noodle soup without it's "supervision."

He gathered the ingredients first.

It was strange doing so in a new kitchen set up. He turned to the right, looking for a cabinet that wasn't there, and came face to face with the fridge.

He could have grabbed the ingredients he needed (sesame oil, soy sauce, sriracha, and the rest) but it wasn't right. Non-refrigerated items went first.

He turned and rifled through the cabinets. Ground ginger and garlic were easy to find, and the rice vinegar took only a minute of reorienting to find where Mikey stored it.

The rice noodles were more elusive. Mikey kept the noodles in a lower cabinet, but after a few minutes of searching, rice noodles were nowhere to be found.

Donnie considered giving up (no, he would not use another noodle variety, thank you very much) before he remembered glimpsing some in the top of the pantry a few weeks prior.

Searching through it, he was rewarded with a single package of flat rice noodles.

Donnie filled a medium-sized bowl with semi-warm water from the sink and folded the noodles in to soak. He placed a strainer next to them ahead of time, a habit he'd formed after one too many close calls. He'd check back in eight-ish minutes, then two.

in the meantime, he switched the heat to medium-high and set out to gather the rest of his ingredients.

Chicken broth, eggs, cilantro. He skipped the green onions, as he couldn't stand the way they'd stick in his mouth. Everything else was laid out methodically on the stove-side counter for easy reach.

"Instruments of measuring?" he mumbled beneath this breath. "Check."

He measured the oil directly into the stockpot, followed by ground ginger and garlic. He eyeballed the latter, but was exacting with the former. He let the mixture heat for a half-a-minute, withdrawing a cutting board and knife and placing them on the counter.

When he returned, he added the rest of the base: sriracha, broth, soy sauce, and rice vinegar. Unlike Raph and Mikey, he valued his taste buds, so he added less sriracha than the recipe demanded.

He turned the heat up, coaxing the broth to a boil. The recipe recommended he add the noodles at this stage, but after many years of perfecting it to his tastes, he'd learned the texture was better if he waited.

As it cooked, he chopped cilantro, breathing in the scent of home.

It reminded him of late nights in the kitchen, when he couldn't sleep or couldn't think or couldn't bear to be alone. The unhurried certainty, moving through motions instinctive to the point of monotony.

For some, the repetition would have dissuaded, driven them away. For Donnie, it was grounding, a long bath in a dark room with a good book. He could get lost, allow his mind to wander, the weight of responsibility slipping from his shoulders.

His head was feeling a little better. Maybe the ibuprofen was kicking in.

When the broth had retreated back to a comfortable simmer, Donnie strained the rice noodles and added them to the pan. He watched, a hint of a smile on his face.

For the next few minutes, he'd put ingredients away. When he returned, it'd be time to finish the dish.

Cooking was an act of care, Donnie reflected. It took time and resources. The art of making something for someone in any craft was an act of care. Making something for your enjoyment alone – it sounded selfish, phrased like that.

Donnie was used to giving himself away. His time, his energy, his motivation – he would give it all, for his family. But when was the last time he had taken back?

It felt like life had been going and going, and then it stopped, leaving him reeling. His wheels were spinning on a nonexistent road.

When was the last time he had stopped? Did he remember how to?

Did any of them?

Donnie had never felt like a child. He'd always been "so mature for his age." Now he wished that he hadn't.

His eyes blurred at the edges. He sniffed, blinking hard.

"Urgh, stupid steam," he announced, to a kitchen of nobody. And then he laughed a little, because who did he have to convince? The cookware?

I'm almost done, anyway.

Donnie retrieved the eggs. With exact precision, he cracked them into a measuring cup and poured them into the soup, one after the other. They floated on top, just starting to white.

He'd let them cook for another four minutes, then add cilantro.

He wondered if the soup would taste just how he remembered. Somehow, he didn't think it would.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It wasn't good or bad. It just was.

Donnie shut the cookbook and put it back where he'd found it.

#i am once again projecting my feelings onto a fictional character #PRACTICE SELF-CARE!! GO DO IT NOW /pos /supportive /np #a prequel to my other oneshot but isn't necessary to read both #btw anon ilysm for this ask /p #how does it feel to be the only right person on the interweb ever?? #i think i would die for you /lh /nsrs #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt writing #writing #rottmnt drabbles #oneshot #fluff #hurt/comfort #confessionals #asks #ask game response #writing drabbles #how tf did i give a drabble about making soup a bittersweet ending?? wtf #btw i know nothing about cooking so if i fucked this majorly i apologize #oh yeah btw: it was delicious

[judgementdaysunshine]

Send me emoji(s) and I'll write a drabble

🥺 Words of affirmation

💫 Showing scars

🛁 Bathing together (specify)

❤️‍🔥 Realizing they're in love with each other

🥂 Celebrating together

🌇 Watching the sunset

📷 Taking pictures or recording videos

🧨 Wildcard

❤️ Making love

🛌 Only one bed

👉👈 Unexpected moment

🧳 Vacation

💍 Proposal

🦋 Flustered

💕 Kiss (specify)

💀 Near-death experience

🩸 Patching up a wound

🫂 Comforting hugs

🎂 Birthday

🧠 Traumatic event

🙈 Accidental walk in

🎥 Movie marathon

🦠 Getting sick

💃 Dancing together

🚗 Road trip

💞 First I love you

❤️‍🩹 Reunion

✂️ Cutting hair

😴 Falling asleep on them

💐 Flower field

🏖️ Beach day

💌 Love letter

🎊 Anniversary

🤝 Enemies to lovers

🤞 Friends to lovers

🍃 Getting high together

🏥 Staying in the hospital together

🌧️ Getting caught in the rain

🎮 Playing games together

🥹 Opening up

#emoji drabbles #writing drabbles #ask game meme #ask meme #Judgementdaysunshine

[writing-in-sin]

So I finally post this drabble on Ao3! Gonna slowly yet steadily try to write more fics again. And I'm certainly looking forward in writing more KaiShin!

Whoop!

#kaishin #kaito kuroba #kuroba kaito #kaitou 1412 #kaitou kid #dcmk #shinichi kudou #kudou shinichi #shinichi kudo #kudo shinichi #magic kaito #meitantei conan #detective conan #fanfic drabble #writing drabbles #kaishin drabbles