#300 words

[castillon02]

January: an Omega watch that could level a city block. February: a Montblanc garotte-pen that could write a headline as easily as take a head off. March: a tuxedo jacket made out of a new stab-proof nano-fiber.

Q Branch had assigned these to 006, 005, and 009 respectively.

When the new Aston Martin was ready in April, Bond was too: ready to put his persuasive blue eyes to good use.

"Q."

"No."

"The odds of one going into the Tiber again are---"

"I specifically waterproofed it. It's technically a nautical vehicle. The answer is still no."

Bond smoldered.

Q kept his dark-ringed eyes on his monitor. His shoulders slumped for a moment before straightening. "Fine. If you sign this." Q handed him a letterheaded sheet of paper.

Under the circumstances that the man known as Q is removed from his position at MI6 due to the destruction of a gadget that Q has provided to me, I, the undersigned, pledge to provide at minimum a replacement monthly salary for at least 48 months immediately following the removal of Q's employment.

"No one's going to fire you."

Q arched his eyebrows. “Here: your current issue.” He handed Bond a plastic Bic pen. The top half had been chewed on and not by Q; the molar imprints didn’t match. 

Bond’s lip curled involuntarily. 

Q smiled. 

Bond signed the contract. 

Later, after the car and its surrounds exploded, Q turned up at Bond’s flat with two cat carriers in tow. “I expect we’ll be kept in the manner to which we’re accustomed.” He flopped onto Bond’s sofa.  

It’d probably be a month or two before MI6 hired Q back, which was time enough for good Quartermasters to have a rest and be spoiled. Bond would have to thank 006; the Omega had worked perfectly.

[rockingrobin69]

(never) over

“Smells lovely,” Draco huffed, more air than words, ticklish in the crook of Harry’s neck. He was half hanging off him and half swaying to the non-music, wind outside and the hum of the oven and the crackling of firewood; Harry closed his eyes and smiled, overheated and slightly overwhelmed, and overjoyed, bursting with it.

“Sweetheart,” he said, not on purpose. Then, firmer, “Sweetheart,” pressing a kiss to the precious crown of his head, and another, and another, helpless to it, “sweetheart,” in this room that was too warm (oven and fire and Draco and dancing), in his arms, in, this, here.

“Yes,” Draco laughed, swaying him worse, dragging a lip up Harry’s neck, tiny little flutters of kisses, “sweet,” meaning the smell, probably, or the—whole of it. Starry-bright.  

Harry wanted to say: you are, meaning the entire world, probably, but words were sticky and slow to come and kissing was closer anyway, so he took Draco’s chin in his palm and pressed their noses together, readying, ready, stopped there. Half-melted around the edges. Staggering, the way Draco looked at him sometimes.  

“You,” Harry said, and swallowed what might have been a whine. He was so—happy, over-filled and buzzing, overrun with delight.

“I?”

Nodding, “You.”

Draco blinked, so near Harry could almost feel the movement on his own cheeks. His eyes were huge and somewhat blurry, grey and scorching-brilliant. “You too,” he said, arms slinging behind Harry’s neck, pulling even tighter. The crackle of fire and hum of the oven, the non-music of the night surrounded them like a blanket, gentle and warm. Overpowering.

The moon sang its crescent tune distantly overhead; Harry, long over it, leaned the last remaining inch between their lips, and the sigh just before the kiss was on its own so unbearably sweet.

@moonmanatee, my dear beloved friend, here's your treat!

[toxicbrothel]

POV

300 words. I8+ noncon somnophilia, stalking

Ghostface was following you, and your date was finally ending.  He wasn’t really planning on doing anything tonight. He wanted to let you miss him. . . until he saw you kiss the guy goodnight, and even let him grab your ass? Ghostface couldn’t let that go. He put on his mask, then reached in the glovebox for his emergency switchblade and flicked it open. He almost forgot to put on his gloves. He waited until you were driving off, then practically flew across the parking lot, taking long strides with his robe flowing behind him. 

“Have a good time?” Ghostface asked your date.

Your date dropped his keys and flattened himself with his back against his car, terrified. Ghostface wrapped his hand around the man’s neck and savored the look of fear in his eyes. “Too bad there won’t be a second date,” he taunted before slashing the man’s throat. Ghostface let him slump onto the pavement, then cleaned the blade with his glove and left the man gurgling on the ground as he bled out. 

Now, to deal with you. Ghostface was nothing, if not patient. . . when he wanted to be. And he had something special in mind for you. He waited until you were fast asleep, then let himself into your house. He crept into your bedroom and palmed himself as he watched you sleep. You rolled over, then let out a little sigh, and it made his dick rock-hard. He got onto your bed and pulled the covers off you. He couldn’t help but moan softly when he saw you were naked. Good. You let out an unsatisfied grunt, but didn’t wake up. He pulled his sweatpants down under his balls, and nudged your legs apart. Then he covered your mouth with his gloved hand. You grunted into his glove, and your eyes blinked open. 

“Dreaming of me, princess?”

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

thank you for reading! and thank you @milla-frenchy for the compelling pic 💕💕

PSA: this is my only ghostface on this acct, but i do have some on main, most notoriously every inch

[polutrope]

I am Aranrúth, the Ire of Elu Thingol King of Doriath. I do not forget the injuries the Enemy hath done us.

“From what I could find,” Maglor says, “the Dwarves of Belegost made it after the First Battle.”

His sweet voice drones on. Elros is not listening. Holding the mighty sword crosswise, he sees himself reflected in the steel, tarnished from long neglect in one of Amon Ereb’s deep storerooms. It twists Elros’ scowl into a menacing snarl, splotches his youthful skin with marks that might be dirt, or blood. He almost believes himself dangerous; almost believes himself mighty enough to wield such a weapon.

He looks up and catches Maglor’s eyes, so pitying, so apologetic, and he hates them. The sword tip gashes the wooden floorboards as Elros lowers it. “This was my mother’s. Her guards brought this out of Doriath. You took this out of Sirion.”

“Brother,” Elrond soothes. Elros jerks away from his hand.

Maglor’s face falls; but in an instant gathers again like a wave drawing back. “We did not realise it was—”

“No, of course not, for you plundered without regard for the culture you had erased, without thought for our heirlooms.”

“Elros, please, you were not meant to find it this way. I was keeping it for you.”

“Keeping it? As you have kept us?”

“I have never—”

Elros does not need to hear the rest. “Good.” He heaves a breath, summoning courage. “Then you will not object when I ride North with Elu Thingol’s sword at my side, to join what kin remain to me in their war against the Enemy.”

The true Enemy, Elros thinks, even as his hands tremble with anger at the one before him, the one he called father, who has kept his inheritance from him.

No longer.

[dallianceangel]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 🛁🍻

Here’s a triple drabble for you all, I love me some soft Happy😍

🛁 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🛁

“Missed me, handsome?” you ask Happy, leaning against the doorframe, still in your nurse’s uniform.

“Always,” Happy whispers with a smile, the sight of you in your uniform immediately turning him on.

Closing the door behind you, Happy can barely keep his composure as he watches you slowly strip to your underwear, his eyes darting to the hickeys he left on your breasts a few days ago. Guiding you into the adjoining bathroom, your boyfriend greets you with a desperate kiss.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed you.”

You can’t help smiling. “I’ve missed you, so much.”

Rock music starts playing in the distance, a sure sign that another rowdy clubhouse party has just begun. Normally, you’d show your face before retreating to Happy’s dorm a few hours later, but tonight you’re both in no mood to party.

“Lavender or Jasmine?” Happy asks you, holding up two bottles of bubble bath liquid, hoping a bubble bath will help you recover from your difficult shift.

“Jasmine, please.”

While you step outside to grab a bottle of beer from the small fridge in the corner of his room, Happy works on drawing the most romantic bubble bath you have ever seen. Lighting some soy wax candles, dimming the lights, putting on some romantic music, making sure the water is the exact temperature that you like, he’s gone all out for you. “Come on in, darlin’!”

Removing your underwear and grabbing another beer from the fridge, you join your boyfriend in the bathtub, completely in awe of what he’s done for you. “This is perfect, baby, thank you.”

He reaches out to hold your hand. “Think they’ll miss us?”

“They are probably too drunk to notice we’re not there.”

Happy chuckles, clinking his beer bottle against yours, signalling the start of your romantic evening together.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Hi ! Congrats on 300 followers !

Can I request :

Crosshair

Romantic

Fem!reader

sfw

300

Prompt #6 : "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now."

optional : said by reader to Crosshair after he was rescued from Mount Tantiss (maybe after a nightmare)

Thank you so much and congratulations again ! <3 (And you don't have to do it if you don't want to, it's totally fine)

I Won't Leave You

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: nightmare, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: CORA, I AM SO SORRY. I got so carried away trying to complete the bingo fics that I let the last three event requests sit idle in my inbox. However, as promised in my New Years post, I have finally completed it!!! Thank you so much for your patience and putting up with me. I hope you still like it 💚

Crosshair shoots up in his bed, screaming at the top of his lungs as sweat pours down his face. He heaves in his breaths and claws at the duvet to try and find reality, but the images from his nightmare refuse to dissipate from his mind. As he continues to search for safety, he feels a hand grab his arm and he begins to flail wildly, desperately trying to escape his nightmare.

"Easy," you say.

Crosshair tries to remember who the voice belongs to, but the room is dark and his mind is still groggy, so he continues to fight your grip as if you're an attacker.

You turn on the lamp on the bedside table and as his eyes adjust to the brightness, he finally sees who the hand belongs to. It's yours. You're holding his wrist and looking at him with concern in his eyes.

His body trembles as he settles and works to get his breathing under control.

"I'm here," you soothe. "I've got you. You're safe now."

Crosshair swallows hard. "I… I don't know what happened."

"A nightmare?" you ask.

"Yeah," he pants. "A bad one. From my time on Mount Tantiss. They did… things to me."

You suck in a breath. "That place is gone now. They can't hurt you anymore."

"But the memories–"

"Are just memories," you whisper.

"I can't…" he breathes while holding the side of his head. "I can't get rid of them."

"It'll take time," you reassure.

"Time," he says. "The one thing I don't have."

You pull Crosshair into your chest and scoot back against the headboard, wrapping your arms around him.

"You can try to go back to sleep when you're ready," you say. "I won't leave you."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Thank you."

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

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[sniigura-archive]

i need adam biblically. patiently waiting for the next part of your frat boy adam😩😩

me too i’m in my knees for him 🙏🏻

im writing it rn 🫡 everything for you guys

[outtoshatter]

Food Fight

“Fine,” Sparrow snapped, “cook for yourself.” “We were only teasing.” Lark held his hands up in surrender. “It’s just I never knew mashed potatoes could look…like that.” “Or smell,” Nick put in. His eyes narrowed. “No one asked you.” “The chicken was crying for help.” His face burned. “Well, I don’t know what I’m doing with that! I don’t eat meat.” Lark leaned over to peer into the bowl of green beans. “Why are they…brown?” Sparrow let out a guttural scream and shoved his head down. He squawked just before his face splashed into the beans. His arms flailed, scrabbling at the counter until Sparrow let go. He jerked upright. “What the fuck, Spa-” Nick burst out laughing. They both whipped around to face him. A green bean flew off Lark’s face with the motion, hitting the refrigerator with a plop. Nick guffawed, clutching his stomach. “Hey.” Lark stuck his hand into the gelatinous bowl of potatoes, fighting to get a handful. He cocked his arm and flung. The glob sailed across the table and hit Nick at the chin with a splat. “Hey! That’s chemical warfare,” he protested. Sparrow glanced to the left and found Lark already looking at him. They grinned. Lark grabbed the bowl of potatoes. Sparrow snatched the green beans. Nick put his hands up. “This isn’t fair.” He backed up and bumped into the table. “No, no, no don’t-” Too late. Browned green beans and mashed potatoes soared through the air. Nick tried to duck, but it was too late. His mouth hung open, dripping beans and questionable potatoes, hands out at his sides. Lark all but collapsed into Sparrow with laughter, wheezing. It only took one glance at Nick’s expression to set him off too, clutching Lark’s arm to keep himself standing.

Also on ao3 <3

[innmybook]

~ rings [bkdk]

💍

Katsuki approaches Izuku in silence so as not to startle him.  His boyfriend is reading some comic book, probably the new edition Katsuki bought last week. The young hero is lying on the sofa, comfortable and looking incredibly huggable.

The blonde smiles as he sits on the edge of the sofa. He takes the comic from Izuku's hand, carefully pulling the magazine so as not to tear the pages.

"Hey! Kacchan?!" Izuku complains, furrowing his eyebrows.

He tries to take the magazine back but the blonde throws it onto the table, far enough so that Izuku couldn't reach it without getting up. The green haired one snorts irritably, and Katsuki takes one of his hands, the left one, where the ring Katsuki had given him was, the one of when they started dating.

Katsuki removes the ring, and Izuku's eyes widen.

"Kacchan?!* he sits up on the couch with Katsuki still holding his hand  "Katsuki, what are you doing? Put that ring back!"

The blonde puts the ring in his pants pocket where a red box waits. He takes it, opening the object and taking out another ring, this one made of gold. Izuku watches all of it open-mouthed in shock.

One hand holds Izuku's hand and the other holds the golden ring. He places the engagement ring on his ring finger, and then kisses the spot.  Katsuki smiles at Izuku, who is still looking at the blonde like a idiot.

"You're my fiancé now, Izuku." he declares.

Izuku even tries to formulate an answer, but Katsuki kisses him and that's enough to make him lose any kind of coherent thought he had left.

The blonde gets up and leaves, leaving a completely confused Izuku behind, admiring the new engagement ring with a goofy smile on his face.

[usualstranger]

i feel like i transitioned "too much"

not for myself, im pretty content with every medical decision i made

but since i began hrt, and even more so since top surgery, i feel like im being denied nonbinary spaces

like i keep describing my gender with vague noises & hand motions, i have stickers with the nonbinary pride flag on a bunch of my belongings, i dont hide it

well for medical staff, work & family im officially One Of The Boys™

and for strangers its about 50/50 in terms of pronouns/gendered language, and i dont correct them either way

but my close, queer friends dont really see me as nonbinary

even the nonbinary ones

and that kinda hurts

like id post a meme on a group chat & theyd make it pretty clear they think im targeting them, or they say things like "oh well we're talking about nonbinary stuff so..." because they think i dont belong in the conversation

& any time i mention people being confused by my gender (which i feel really happy about), they really insist on me looking like such a Manly Man, and how the other person must have been blind or something because its so obvious im a Man

idk

i wonder if that has happened to anyone else

& i know im very lucky to have such supportive friends & they dont mean any harm obviously

but idk it still hurts

i feel like ive spent so much time trying to escape one tiny box & i thought i would be free but ive been put in this other one instead & i dont have the energy to start this whole fight all over again

anyway

its far from a big problem i know, im in a really privileged position rn

but it kind of sucks being excluded by your own peers & close friends from something you really want to be a part of

[whimsicalmeerkat]

foolish thoughts - psy-changeling

On AO3

Kaleb sits in the back of Xavier Perez’s church in San Francisco and looks at the moonlight shining through the windows on one side of the sanctuary.

A triple drabble written for Battleship 2023.

[rockingrobin69]

just works

They play Cranium with Ron and Hermione on Friday, and the little card says Harry has to sculpt Wembley stadium from playdough. For some reason his mind goes to Wimbledon, and he makes what sort of doesn’t look at all like a tennis court: Draco blinks at it, nods, and says, Wembley.

They get the point, and Hermione loses her absolute marbles. “How,” she keeps asking, louder and louder with every glass of wine, “did you both make the same mistake, the opposite way?”

Harry just shrugs. Doesn’t quite know how to explain that they’re both the same kind of weird, but in opposite ways, that they make all the mistakes all the time and still somehow manage to understand each other. Draco’s smile sparkles with mischief, and he keeps coming up with half-arsed theories about mental connection and soul mates and bees and ants that regurgitate knowledge, but it was a total accident, and he knows it too. They’re just like that when they’re together: somehow it works. Hermione doesn’t quite forgive them even when she wins the game for spelling ‘obnoxious’ backwards, but she smiles when Ron shrugs, when he gives her that look.

“That’s Harry and Malfoy for you,” he says, and she laughs and nods, conceding the point (but still sore about the point).

On their way home, Draco leans his head on Harry’s shoulder. “My father used to watch tennis. He hated Andy Murray, but I always suspected it’s because he fancied his arse.”

Harry chokes on surprise-laughter. “Vernon and Dudley watched a lot of footie.” There’s silence for a while.

“I despise football,” Draco says.

“Yeah, tennis is boring.”

They look at each other, not much else to say. Harry’s smiling when he takes his hands, fingers threading together. Yeah, all right. That’s them.

(Flufftober day 18. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[bluebloodedbug]

shhhh this is definitely not months later than it should be you're crazy if you think that

[polutrope]

The music enchants, but it is the minstrel’s silks that enthrall Maglor. Silver-green like starlight meshed in moss, they ripple like water— nay, like thick cream, tempting both eyes and tongue. The cloth loves the one it clothes; lives as though the tiny creatures who spun it sacrificed their spirits in its making. 

It is as soft as cream, too, between Maglor’s fingers. So soft Maglor bares himself first, which he has done for no one since landing on these shores. He bares the scar that loops around his ribs: the mark of a Balrog’s whip. A strange scar, patterned like chainmail, for the metal grew so hot it singed the flesh it was meant to protect. 

Maglor’s skin burns otherwise now. He hungers for luxury. Hungers and takes, lowering the length of himself over the prone body beneath him. 

“Have you no silks in your Blessed Realm?” Daeron’s chuckle is a playful breeze on Maglor’s throat. 

They do, they did — but not like this. Ah, how Maglor wishes he could tell him: they are gone, all his gowns, all his trailing robes and winged shawls. More we shall make: so his father had spoken. But there are no such materials in cold Beleriand – none save these that have come out of the Girdled Kingdom, draped upon the shoulders of a nightborn bard with a voice like rain, like rivers, like the vast dark spaces between stars. 

Maglor’s silks are left behind and lost, but these— but you— “You are here,” Maglor says, nonsequitur. 

Daeron asks no more questions, and that is well, for Maglor can give no answers. He kisses Maglor’s mouth and shrugs out of his silks, and at the touch of skin on skin, warm and supple skin, Maglor’s hunger is at once renewed and sated. It is not his silks, but Daeron for whom he hungers; Daeron who is his luxury, his comfort, his home.

Inspired by @jouissants' Doriath silk monopoly worldbuilding in arrangement for flute and harp

[annoyingbelieverballoon]

Hi hi!!

Saw that your reqs were open, so I wanted to get one in while I could! I’m super interested in your oc Kraepelin :o How do you think he’d act if he had a crush?

Thank you if you take this request!! (Also I’d love to be pals if you’re interested, you seem super cool :D if not no worries lol)

Take care <33

OMG KRAEPLIN HEADCANNONS Time.

Kraeplin crush headcannons:

word count: ~373

Kraeplin's a touch-starved baby who's confused, hates crowds, and struggles to understand most things people take for granted.

Be patient with him; he's never had a crush before and doesn't know how to express himself.

Earn his trust by treating him with basic decency, spending time with him, and showing you care. These simple gestures will make a world of difference to him.

Once he realises his feelings, expect an outpouring of affection. He'd be smitten with you.

He's an open book, incapable of keeping a secret, so don't expect him to surprise you.

He's constantly by your side, studying you and learning about your interests by introducing you to new things he's discovered.

Whatever gift you give him will immediately become his prized possession(s).

He may be afraid of crowds, but for his crush, he'll be a little more daring.

If you get hurt, he'll take you to one of his sheds and keep you safe until you're healed. (Although it may look like kidnapping.)

If you're a synth monster like him, he'll make sure you and him stay hidden from the world.

His crush brings out a more adventurous side of him, which includes being loud and telling more jokes than usual. He'll also try new things and learn new skills for you.

You're helping him come out of his shell.

He is unaware of many things, but he's a quick learner who learns best through trial and error.

Show him kindness, and you'll be the best thing to happen to him since he lost everything that made him feel good.

Despite being naive, he's not technically childish. He understands social clues, body language, and feelings better than most humans or monsters.

He can't write, but he'd definitely learn how to if you enjoy stories, poetry, and literature.

Over all, it's not really a slow burn, but his crush on you would be a development in his character that would change him for the better. Regardless of whether the crush evolves into more or if it fades away or ends badly,

He learned to care, trust, acknowledge, and feel for others.

Ps+ teach him how to flirt, then flirt with him. He's going to start blushing like crazy.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Hey lovely! Congratulations on the milestone! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I wish to humbly request Tech with a romantic fem!reader. Your choice of spice! (I’m happy with either SFW or suggestive!) 300 words with the prompt 1. "You... you really mean it, don't you?"

Thank you again lovely! 😘😘😘

One Game

Tech x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: insomnia, fluff

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: MAMA PINEAPPLE, I AM SO SORRY. I got so carried away trying to complete the bingo fics that I let the last three event requests sit idle in my inbox. However, as promised in my New Years post, I have finally completed it!!! Thank you so much for your patience and putting up with me. I hope you like it 💚

The night is late, but your insomnia is out in full force. You toss and turn in your small bunk, as the Marauder careens through hyperspace. You sigh and decide to get out of your bunk to go do something other than trying to fall asleep. As you make your way through the corridor and towards the refresher, you see Tech sitting by himself and staring at his data-pad.

"Can't sleep either?" you say as you approach him.

Tech doesn't look up from his data-pad. "I prefer to work after the others have gone to sleep."

"Oh," you say, slightly disappointed.

"I presume that you cannot sleep?" Tech asks, still tapping on his data-pad.

"You presume correctly," you sigh, then flop down onto the seat next to him.

You both sit in silence for a moment.

"Hey," you say, breaking the silence. "Do you want to play dejarik?"

Tech lifts his eyes over his data-pad. "Not at this time."

"Please?" you ask. "I'm so bored. Just one game?"

Tech sighs. "If it will keep you quiet so I can finish my work, then I will agree."

"Sweet!" you exclaim.

You get up from your seat and set up the game on the holo-projector. You input your team and patiently wait for Tech to set up his team. The game goes on for several turns, and at one point, you thought you might actually beat him, but in the end, he still wins the round.

"You're very good at this," Tech says. "Perhaps we should play another round."

"You…" you say with a shocked expression. "You really mean it, don't you?"

"Mean what?" he asks.

"That's the first compliment you've ever given me," you say with a smile.

"Well," he begins as he adjusts his goggles, "it is a well-deserved compliment."

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

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