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#back to drabblin
crackedpumpkin · 1 year
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a/n: Damn, I'm really drabblin bros. I'm gonna be so exhausted tomorrow, I guarantee it.
|| Tired Fools || Tadashi Hamada x Reader
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“Can you check this for me?” 
You lean over, looking away from the laptop in your hands. You scan the screen, reading the code that Tadashi shows you. You squint, and he notices, shifting the monitor, so you don’t have to crane your neck.
“It looks good so far, but you’re gonna have an error here,” You point out, unsteadily balancing your laptop to poke your finger at the screen. You stumble, and the computer slides out of your grasp as you gasp in horror.
“Woah!” He grabs the laptop, securing it carefully yet tightly as your hand grips his shoulder. You balance yourself, the room practically swaying. You blink, sitting on the chair he pulls up for you.
“Thanks,” You say breathlessly, taking a moment to close your eyes. You groan, lines of code practically imprinted on your eyeballs. Even with your eyes closed, you can still see the bright screen and hear a soft chuckle from the boy beside you.
“It’s your fault, y’know.” You grumble, moving your hand to hit him with your eyes still closed. “If we got home earlier from the theme park, we wouldn’t have had to stay up like this.” Your hand finally connects with something warm – his arm, you realize. You give him a light punch.
“Yeah, but you had so much fun on the roller coasters. Who am I to take you away from that?”
“Shut up,” You mumble, realizing that his voice is husky with exhaustion. You swat his arm, and he responds with a questioning hum. “Take a break, stupid.” You order, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him back to lean against his chair.
He allows himself to be pulled back, and you feel his chair shift as he groans in relief. “I have so many errors.”
“That’s okay; you’re a good programmer. You’ll fix it.”
“Not as good as you are, though.”
“Are you kidding me?” You bark out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. With your eyes closed, it provides so much relief from the screen you’d been staring at for the past five hours with only two hours of sleep.
“Nah, you’re great. I mean it.”
“Well, you have great hair.”
“You have nice eyes.”
“You have great arms.”
Somehow, your tiredness had turned both of you into rambling fools, neither of you processing the words that left your lips.
“You’re terrible at acting, but it’s cute.”
You pause. “Am I really?”
“What, the acting or the cute thing? Because both are true.”
“Well, you have cute expressions too. Especially when you talk about your brother and aunt. You practically light up, and it’s adorable,” You giggle.
The both of you fall silent, flushed cheeks and goofy smiles as you process the other’s words.
“Should we continue?”
You sense him turning to look at you. Your lips spread into a warm smile, chuckling at the thought of the horror that’s your assignment waiting for you.
“Wanna trade?”
He chuckles, his hand finding yours and giving it a quick squeeze. 
“Sure.”
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yi-dashi · 3 years
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//I want to say Yi had very particular tastes in fashion and self presentation before the war, and it’s not something he has especially grown out of in his middle age. I throw around the word vanity in my own mind, but I don’t think he did it all for the sake of pride. Pride in himself is a part of it, as Yi’s ego can still get the better of him even today, but it was more a result of wanting to stand out in an otherwise homogeneous culture at any cost.
  He loved the outside world. He loved talking to traders who had apparently traveled broadly. He had access, or so I figure, to clothes and textiles from other places. You bet he was going to go around dressing in trailing robes, flowing ribbons, with hair adornments and nail polish. He was already considered mysterious and talented before any addition to aesthetics. I can totally see Yi leaning right into the presentation of a Master Sword-Poet before his time.
  It also wouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone when Yi had dissenting opinions on the war, though it probably did surprise people that Yi acted on these opinions. Other people definitely saw him as vain and frivolous. Despite all his tastes, he was more than happy to drop it all in the pursuit of a worthy cause. Without the strict societal structure, he didn’t have any use for his theatrics outside of Wuju.
   He still considers himself at war today, which means he hasn’t rebounded from the idea that personally fulfilling aesthetics are useless. He’s also developed a different alter ego to present outwardly these days, which lends itself to some other problems. If he ever falls back into some sort of normalcy, his tastes in clothing, and other accessories, might fall in a middle ground between the Wuju norm as seen in Poetry with a Blade, and his past extravagance.
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boxofbonesfic · 3 years
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Hoe thot: Steve Rogers didn't want to have sex before marriage. Once you both married 😏😏😏
You wonder where the hell did he know how to please you
And oooh - make it nomad!Steve cause THAT BEARD THO
OMG I LOVE IT????
Title: patience
rating: EXPLICIT lmao
warnings: uhhh overstimulation? fluff? idk
LET’S GET DRIB’ DRABBLIN’
💖
He knows you love him—that’s why you’re willing to wait. Steve knows he’s not your first either, and that’s okay. He knows it’s a different time now, but he can’t help but hold fast. Keep this one last tradition. He bends on most other things—after all, you change with the times, right? He’s Captain America, not Captain Asshole, and America looks a lot different than it did when he was a kid.
So he learns.
He “surfs the internet”, and he does the “Google”, and he learns. Virginity is a concept, it’s not real—but it still feels important to him anyway, and you respect that. It’s the one weird hill he has Not to say that he hasn’t thought about it.
Damn does he think about it.
He thinks about how soft and wet it’s going to be inside of you, how tight of a fit you’ll be. He dreams about it. He’s not stupid, he’s done his research. And where that fails, he knuckles down and asks his friends. Natasha is the least surprised and the most forthcoming, and Tony’s ribbing only lasts about fifteen minutes before he’s diving into his player’s handbook of secrets.
So when he finally does take you to bed on your wedding night, after all the guests have been bid farewell and you’re alone in his brownstone—you half don’t believe him. You’re messy and twitching on his still hard cock as he fucks you through your fourth orgasm of the night, your thighs spread wide by his large hands. Your eyes are glassy and your lips are parted, your lipstick smeared by his heated kisses.
“God, Steve, I can’t cum again,” you’re whining, tears gathering in your wide eyes. He takes pity on you, removing the weight of his thumb from your swollen clit. He leans back, angling his hips so that he brushes up against the rough patch just inside your sinfully tight pussy. Your eyes roll and your suck your bottom lip between your teeth.
“That’s okay, doll. I won‘t force it this time, you’ll get there all on your own.”
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jynzandtonic · 3 years
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bITCH THERE IS NOT ENOUGH RICK SMOLAN FICS !! Please please I am begging for even a crumb of Ricky fics, hcs, smut, A N Y T H I N G!!! Although preferably I’d like a smut fic becuase all the other boys already have fics :( Nevertheless it is ur decision and time!! Big fan of ur writing btw, new here but already hooked! :D So if u have time, more Rick smolan!!! And if u could plz tag any other Rick works u know of?? Thanksssss!!! <3 - love nonny
I ABSOLUTELY AGREE, NONNY!!!!! He’s perhaps the most underrated boy imho. I mean, those LEGS, come ON!! Also, welcome to the community; I’m happy you’re here!
I’ve had this modern outdoorsy van-life photographer Rick AU in the works for like, forevah, and it always ends up getting pushed to the back burner for whatever reason. My brain is actually run by a herd of gerbils, and they only *sometimes* decide to operate the treadmill that powers my productivity, so that doesn’t help. I really oughta get back to that fic...
In the meantime, send me an ask for some drabblin’ this weekend and take a peek at my Rick Smolan x reader tag! Xoxoxoxo
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glenncoco4 · 4 years
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writing tag game
Thanks for the tag @wanna-be-bold
AO3 Name: I only have a FF. (glenncoco4)
Fandoms: NCIS: LA
Tropes: No clue what that is.
Number of fics: 31
Fics I wanna rewrite/expand on: What’s Happens Next? and Meant to Be
Fic I spent the least time on: Nope (Densi Drabblin’)
Longest Fic: What If? (Single story wise)
Shortest Fic: Nope (Densi Drabblin’)
Most hits/comment threads/kudos/bookmarks: We Got Us
Total word count: 222,862
Favorite Fic I wrote: What If?
Bit of a WIP:
She’s sitting at the table, running a towel back and forth over it aimlessly. “Would you just talk to me?” She looks up and for the first time today he lets her see the hurt in his eyes.
Tagging @chicgeekgirl89 and @psyched1328
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lihikainanea · 4 years
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I have very much missed BFF!Bill and didn’t have a whole lot of inspiration for drabblin’ him these past two weeks but he’s slowly coming a little easier now and I’m happy to have him back.
Full disclosure though, I’m having trouble writing some of the next longer pieces. They usually hit me like a ton of bricks and I crank them out easily, I get a topic that just SLAMS ME and I’m all over it. But lately I’v been hopping back and forth between ideas with no real inspiration for any of them? I don’t know, something will steamroll me. Just be patient. Also, man, my attention span is just getting worse. I have a lot of energy but it’s a lot of nervous energy and I’m allowing too many distractions in. I’ll sit down to write out a longer piece but it’s like, before I know it, the next second I’m checking my phone, and then is that a crumb on the floor? I should sweep. And while I’m sweeping, oh my plant bub looks dry, I’m gonna water it--and is it tilting? Hmm, I should stake it. Where’s a stake? The back closet--which is, oh god a mess, here let me reorganize it.
Basically, it’s out of fucking control. And I was looking forward to a few longer, 16+ hour flights just to literally get me sitting in one spot for that long so I can write, but all my trips got cancelled.
Anyway, bear with me. Keep sending ideas. You never know what’ll spark this goldfish brain of mine.
Today, though, I have:
1) Done my groceries in a non-apocalyptic fashion.
2) Smudged my home.
3) Cleansed my healing stones.
4) Bound one of my new tarot decks to me.
5) Cleansed my oldest, most faithful deck because it was long overdue
6) did the dishes
7) re-staked my beauty, big monstera that was tilting a little on me.
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vertebralheights · 4 years
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@voidhanded​ sent  i know its supposed to be random but 12. A sad, heart wrenching kiss as a last farewell from those stupid scientists in the early verse hehe
IM DRABBLIN’
The plan was set.  Most of the skeletons would move deeper underground, to settle more territory and to ease growing tensions in Home.  At least, that’s what everyone believed.  Zapfino even believed it.  If he actually looked around, ever spoke to anyone outside of the lab or his family, he’d know that he was leaving a better life behind.  But he didn’t know.
He was a father now, a father twice over.  His daughter had been with him earlier that day, saying her goodbyes to Gaster’s nephew.  She’d cried all the way home.  Cooper, his son, was comforting her at home.  Zapfino returned to the lab under the pretense of grabbing a few last minute books an belongings he’d left behind.  But that wasn’t true.  He needed to see him.  He wasn’t sure when he’d back back in this place again.  It could be a year or two, could be more- he wasn’t sure.  
They’d been friends for so long, it would be wrong to not say goodbye to Gaster.  A proper goodbye.
The lab felt so empty without the others.  There were still other scientists in the lab, but the area he occupied was shared among other skeleton scientists.  Their stations all empty now, it felt so barren and sad.  His own station among them, with only a few scraps of paper left behind.
He finds Gaster where he had left him a few hours before, pouring over his desk.  He stops, watching him for a moment.  After all these years he still feels drawn to him.  Even after what happened with Lucida and the births of his children, they were still friends.  But if he was being honest, truly honest with the deepest thoughts in his mind, he’d prefer a different outcome to their lives.  He loved his children, and he loved his wife, but there was always something about Gaster.  
✥Hey.
Gaster turned to face him.  He looks tired.
✥You should be at home.  It’s late.
YOU AS WELL.  YOU HAVE MUCH TO PREPARE FOR.  YOU HAVE A LONG JOURNEY TO MAKE TOMORROW.
✥I know.
They stare at each other for awhile.  Zapfino isn’t sure what to say.  A simple goodbye felt just that- too simple.  There’s so much he wants to say but he knows that nothing can come of what he really wants.
✥I wish you were coming along.  We could really use you where we’re going.
I AM NEEDED HERE.
Zapfino nods, biting back a comment about needing him more.  He can’t say that.  It really is imperative that Gaster remain, his work was too important.  The skeleton scientists had the mean to establish a settlement fine without Gaster, but Zapfino still wished he could be there.  For selfish reasons.  Selfish reasons he can’t even act on.
✥I’m sure we’ll be back soon, within a year or so.  Two at the most. ✥ Once things cool down up here.
It’s so stiff and awkward.  They’d been doing this for years now, maintaining a colleague relationship.  It was never that hard before, but right now it feels impossible.
✥ Gaster-
Zapfino finally approaches, putting his hand on his old friend’s shoulder.  
✥I...I need you to take care of yourself. ✥ I know you, I know how you work.  You’ve been so secretive wit hit lately- and It isn’t my business what you’re working on- ✥ But... But I worry about you, and I hate to leave you here without any help.
I HAVE HELP.  I HAVE SANS AND THE OTHER SCIENTISTS. 
✥ Sans is just a boy.  And the others-
THEY AREN’T YOU.
His hand tightens.  Gaster looks so tired.  Between all his work, and the boys at home- it was so much.  Zapfino knew, he was living it too.  But he had Lucida to help.  He aches at the thought.  He should have been there for Gaster and those boys.  He’d wanted to.  But circumstance dictated otherwise.
✥...Just.. Please. ✥ I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.   ✥ Please, Wingdings-
The old name slipped out- he expects to be corrected.  But he isn’t.  He corrects himself anyway.
✥ Gaster.  I...
He sighs, closing his eyes.  He knows that no matter what he says, Gaster won’t stop in his work.  He’ll dive in, bury himself in it.  Zapfino could only hope that when he did return, Gaster would be well.
✥ I’m going to miss you.
He pulls his friend in for a hug.  Gaster doesn’t initially return it, but after a moment, his arms come up.  They lean into each other, enjoying the first hug they’d shared in years.  Neither seem keen on letting go.
✥ I...I don’t want to leave.
I DON’T WANT THAT EITHER.
Slowly, they come apart, but the both linger, staying close for far too long.  Gaster’s hands have dropped to Zapfino’s waist.  Their foreheads rest against each other.  Zapfino’s hand finds its way to a familiar place on Gaster’s cheek.
Z, I-
He can’t help it.  He moves in close, pushing Gaster against the desk behind him.  Gaster doesn’t stop him, his hands only grip him tighter.  They both breathe heavily, looking into each other’s eye sockets.  Zapfino pulls Gaster in, and they kiss.  Zapfino’s mind is alive, his hands moving independently now, holding Gaster close to him.  He could stay.  Lucida was a good mother, she could care for the children on her own- He’d visit, he’d find a way to visit- They’d forgive him, they would understand-
Gaster pulls back, which pushes Zapfino back into reality. 
YOU SHOULD GO. I... YOU NEED TO GO.
They part awkwardly.  Zapfino jams his hands in his pockets.  They can’t look at each other now.  
✥Of course...I...Yes.
He turns away, walking away slowly.  When he passes his desk, he removes his lab coat and drops it over the chair.  The room is silent apart from the soft footfalls as he walks across the lab for the last time.
ZAPFINO.
He looks back.
....YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOO.
Zapfino hasn’t cried since he was a child.  It was never something he did, he never felt the need to, but tears are forming and falling now.  He looks at Gaster one last time, quickly scrubbing away the tears.  When he speaks again, his voice catches and breaks slightly.
✥Of course.
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fandomn00blr · 4 years
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Nightmares and Chocolate
[Another chapter of my Amell Origins playthrough drabblin,’ also posted on AO3 (minus these sweet high-quality xbone screenies!)...]
---
Her hands. So impossibly soft on the top, but hard where the grips of her daggers and the trigger of her crossbow left rough callouses underneath. Running over her. Reaching for her. Grasping. Pulling. Digging. Tearing…
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And...shrieking?
Solona wasn't sure if it was her own screams or somebody else's until...
Ah, yes. The Archdemon again. Lovely.
She had come to recognize the hideous monster that haunted her dreams, and she realized, with a sinking feeling, that she was actually beginning to understand its unintelligible hissing and garbled roars. She had started to feel its needs, its wants, its...commands. And at least some part of her wanted to obey.
Solona woke up in a fever-breaking sweat, her loose night clothes clinging to her. Alistair had said her dreams might get worse. Before they either got better or she just learned to live with them. He hadn't really been very clear about that.
“Warden Amell…?”
Her voice. Again. Still? Apparently, she was still dreaming.
"This is fucking torture!” she screamed into her pillow and tried to will herself awake before her dream twisted her desire for the pretty bard back into another nightmare.
“Oh my...torture?" Leliana peeked her head in under the flap of the tent’s entrance. "Solona, are you alright?”
“Leliana? Is that you?” Please don’t have claws…Solona thought, squinting up at her.
“I think so…?” Leliana didn’t sound too sure herself. And somehow, this was reassuring to Solona. “I heard you thrashing about and yelling."
Solona had convinced herself she'd only been imagining that Leliana had been setting her tent up closer and closer to hers each time they made camp over the past few days, and she hadn't dared to ask Alistair what he thought after their conversation a couple of nights ago. But it seemed she’d been close enough to hear her having this latest nightmare.
"I thought perhaps we were under attack?"
“Just in my sleep, it seems.” Solona laughed weakly, trying to play it off. “Alistair assures me that this is all perfectly normal.”
She rolled her eyes at herself. None of this was normal. Nothing would ever be normal again. Not that it ever really had been.
“Perhaps I can help? I have some good wine...and chocolate.”
"Ok, now I know I must be dreaming...”
Leliana laughed, ducking the rest of the way into the tent. "I always keep a stash of the finer things for emergencies," she smiled, so warm and inviting that Solona didn't care anymore if she was real, part of a dream, or even a demon coming to tempt her in her vulnerable state.
"Maker preserve me," she huffed, feeling her insides turning into butterflies as Leliana scooted next to her. She was a clammy mess, her hair stuck to her face and her thin nightclothes soaked almost all the way through. But here was the woman she couldn't get out of her head, moving closer nonetheless.
"Oh, yes. Perhaps we should say a prayer?"
"That's not exactly what I -- " But before Solona could finish, Leliana had knelt down right beside her, taking her cold hands into hers, even warmer than they'd been in her dream, the soft parts softer and the callouses right where she'd imagined them.
Solona swallowed whatever she had been about to say in protest, as Leliana looked up at her with an earnest plea half-formed on those lips of hers.
"May I?"
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She was helpless to say no to her. Whatever she might be asking for. Her soul, maybe? "Go ahead…" she stammered. It was a low, hoarse, blunt kind of noise, in stark contrast with the light lyrical lilt of the bard.
"Maker, please grant us the hope and courage we need as we prepare for the darkness and the battles that lie ahead of us."
"In Andraste's name…" Solona began to murmur obediently. It might have been the first time she'd uttered the phrase since childhood, refusing to go to the services held in the Circle as soon as she was old enough to opt out of them.
But instead of finishing the prayer, Leliana leaned forward and pressed her lips against Solona's, dry and thoroughly unprepared as they were.
Leliana’s, on the other hand, were soft and warm. And gentle. Like everything else about her, at first glance.
When she pulled away, Solona caught just a flash of the darker desire in her eyes, too. But she looked quickly away before revealing too much, smiling bashfully down at the ground instead.
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"I see the Maker's love in all things…" She lifted her face up with the rapturous glow she had whenever she spoke of the Maker, the creases and wrinkles that Solona had begun to look for because they were like cracks into who this woman really was had all gone smooth again.
“All things…?” Solona managed to choke out because if she didn’t say anything, she was afraid she might wake up from what she was almost certain now was another dream.
“Mmhm…” A hint of a wink, a tiny crease between her brows. A little quirk in her smile. “And your lips are as sweet a way to end a prayer as any I can think of.” Leliana blushed and then leaned in for another kiss.
“Wait!” Solona pulled back just before their lips could meet again, hating that the voice of conscience in her head telling her to do so sounded an awful lot like Alistair allofasudden.
“What is it?" Leliana's forehead creased suddenly with worry. "Oh no! Have I misread you? The flowers you gave me...the flirting…I thought…?”
“No. It’s just...well, Alistair has informed me that I’m extra amorous right now because of the Darkspawn blood I drank as part of my Joining...and well…" She really did sound just like him. What was wrong with her? "I would just feel bad if...”
“I understand.” Leliana sat back, her lips just barely pursed into a disappointed pout.
“I’m sorry.”
“Do not be sorry. I was the one who was being foolish. I feel I should explain…”
“There’s really nothing you need to --”
“I do not feel particularly beholden to conventional ideas about propriety when it comes to sex.” She blurted out, like some kind of confession.
“Oh?” Well this was certainly not something Solona was expecting to hear from the Chantry Sister.
“Physical pleasure is a gift from the Maker! As much as any other thing that makes us feel good and loved. I could not take the Chantry vows of celibacy in good conscience knowing I would be turning my back on these opportunities to experience the Maker's love...”
“Oh…” Solona nodded approvingly, as if she understood completely. In her experience, the Maker, if there even was such a thing, was cruel and distant. In the Circle, she’d only ever really heard about the many ways the Maker had chosen to punish his children. Especially the ones bearing the 'curse' of magic.
“I do not believe our enjoyment of these gifts needs to be wrapped up in the sort of relational demands and exclusive commitments people make to each other — the restrictions, the rules...”
Solona was beginning to feel as though she were listening to a sermon. But at least the message was something that interested her for a change. And the person preaching it was nice to look at.
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Leliana blushed again, as if she had finally realized what she was trying to imply.
"I fancy you!" she laughed. "If I'm allowed to say so."
“You are. Allowed to say so…”
"But what I’m trying to say, is that if you do not return these feelings, it does not mean we cannot enjoy each other’s company while we have the opportunity to do so!”
“Oh, I’m familiar with casual sex, having spent almost all of my life up to this point in a Circle...” Solona laughed.
Leliana looked somehow saddened by this, which seemed more than a bit hypocritical considering she'd just offered a no-strings-attached encounter, but maybe she assumed casual sex in the Circle had nothing to do with the 'Maker's love' and therefore was excluded from this arrangement.
"I'm sorry. I must seem ridiculous to you," Leliana muttered.
“No! Not ridiculous! Your views are just...unique. I've never met a 'lay' Sister like you...or anyone who actually believes the Maker could be so...kind."
Leliana frowned again.
"But I think I do return your feelings,” Solona hastily confessed, hoping halfheartedly she might still be able to salvage this conversation. “And that’s why I think we need to just wait...until this nonsense with the Joining has passed.”
“Wait...so you do...have feelings? For me?”
“Yes. But it’s hard to figure them out when the Darkspawn blood is screaming at me through my veins like this."
“I see. That does sound quite awful."
Solona nodded.
"I um...oh this is so embarrassing! I promise I did not intend to throw myself so desperately at you like this! You just...you make me feel rather silly."
"Silly?"
"Yes. Like a young girl again!"
"Oh. Yes. Uh, same, actually…" But Solona knew it probably wasn't the same at all. Leliana as a young girl had probably been full of light and wonder and joy. Solona as a young girl had been even darker and more disagreeable than she was now.
"Disturbed," more than one of her teachers had called her, and if it hadn't been for the First Enchanter’s insistence that she was simply bored, and in need of more challenging training in spite of some of the senior enchanters' objections…well, she didn't want to think about that. It would've reminded her of Jowan's unknown fate, who hadn't been so lucky to have such a persistent advocate in Irving, and she wasn't ready to deal with the remaining guilt on top of everything else she was going through at the moment.
"Sorry…" She turned and smiled apologetically at her. "I drifted off into my head a bit there."
“It's fine. I imagine you have a lot on your mind."
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They both sat in awkward silence for a moment until Leliana brightened up again. "Oh! I almost forgot! I really did bring chocolate and wine." She reached into the the satchel she had slung over her shoulder and pulled out a bottle and a little parcel wrapped in fancy gilded paper.
"Another gift from the Maker?" Solona asked, finally recovering some of her characteristic sarcasm.
"Oh no." Leliana looked darkly up at her, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "This comes from another realm, where the Maker's grace is spurned entirely…”
“I didn’t know they made chocolate in the Void?”
“No, silly! It’s from Orlais!" Leliana giggled, peeling back the pretty paper with relish.
Solona beamed at her and eyed the chocolate greedily as she snapped a piece off and handed it to her.
“It’s the good stuff,” Leliana assured her, unnecessarily.
Solona swallowed it too quickly to notice. “More…”
“I’m glad you like it.” Leliana broke her off an even larger piece. “Wine?”
“Maker, yes!”
Leliana smiled and pulled out one of the daggers she kept strapped to her body. With a mouth full of fine Orlesian chocolate, unable to even scream, Solona thought, if this is the moment this woman chooses to slit my throat, I will have at least died happy, and I want Alistair to know I had no regrets.
But in a quick flash of metal and sparks, Leliana slashed the blade against the neck of the wine bottle instead.
“Show off…” Solona murmured, but the fluttering mess in her belly had become far more demanding allofasudden. She began to wonder if a single bottle of wine would be enough to dull her all-consuming hunger, even just a little bit.
“An old tavern trick. Basic bard stuff…” Leliana smiled smugly, pouring a generous amount of red wine into a goblet that suddenly reminded Solona of the Joining chalice.
She took it from her anyway and swallowed it down as quickly as she could and tried not to think too much about it. It certainly didn’t taste like Darkspawn blood, anyway.
...
Somehow, along the way to finishing their bottle of wine and another bar of chocolate, Solona ended up lying with her head in Leliana’s lap, her hunger and restlessness somewhat satisfied for the moment by the indulgences and her company. Leliana ran her fingers through her long, dark hair, loosened from its messy bun, absently twisting it into little braids, while humming some unfamiliar song.
“What is that?” Solona asked.
She remembered Alistair had mentioned something about bards and their songs and how they could hypnotize you, and between the wine and the general lack of sleep, and the warmth of Leliana’s lap and the way her hands raked gently through her hair...well, she was feeling pretty drowsy.
“Just an old Chantry hymn. The tune is probably older than the Chant of Light, I imagine. It’s a bit absurd, I know," she laughed. "But I find it comforting in dark times.”
“It's nice. Nothing like the dreary dirges they used to sing in the Circle…" Solona yawned.
“Then I shall continue humming it for you. Until you fall asleep. Or until I do...whichever happens first.”
"Promise?" Solona asked, already halfway there.
Leliana smiled down at her, twisting a braid around her pinky. "I promise."
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vicekings · 5 years
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wrote this for @farcrynewdawn last night. john/luke drabblin
It had started as a joke.
John’s sleepless nights had him in a haze of desperation. He’d tried everything in Henry’s Grandma’s journals; warm milk, chamomile tea, almonds, salmon, showering at night instead of in the morning, and doing yoga.
Nothing ever helped.
Not until he started sleeping in Luke’s bed.
——
As Luke snored away, John traced the constellations of freckles that painted his skin. He played his own game of connect the dots, finding all the ways he could write his name against Luke. When he got bored with that, he switched to airplanes. When he got bored with that, he simply counted.
There were about one hundred and eighty two
freckles on Luke’s face, according to John’s numbers. He usually feel asleep somewhere around the one hundred mark, but a particularly rough day had him reach a new record. John tried it once or twice in the daytime too, only to find himself dozing off in the middle of a movie. If Luke or Henry or Sara noticed, they made no remark.
In the two months since John had started counting Luke’s freckles, he’d been up past midnight once. It was nine weeks in when Luke and Jess took off to recover the Death Wish, leaving John alone in the farmhouse after midnight.
Well, mostly alone.
Henry didn’t really count much for meaningful company. At least not to John.
When he said as much, Henry snorted. He reached down to pat Sadie on the head and shrugged. “I’ll take that as you’re getting used to me.”
John huffed. “Despite my best efforts.”
“Hey, you can only focus on so much at once.” Henry chuckled. “Luke’ll be back soon enough. Do you want something warm to drink while you wait?”  
——
John wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. It was sometime between when Sadie joined him on the porch swing and when Henry threw a quilt over his shoulders. All John knew was that he heard Luke shushing Sadie as she whined up at him. He heard her claws clacking against the hardwood as he felt strong arms wrap around him. The warmth the Rottweiler provided at his side was replaced by Luke picking him up and carrying him back inside.
Still drowsy, John reached up as he was being carried and carefully pressed his finger against every freckle he could see through half-lidded eyes.
——
“How many do I have?” Luke asked softly, watching John’s eyes as he examined his face.
John curled closer and gave up is task. They had to get up soon, and having Luke still in bed this late was a rarity he intended on fully enjoying.
“The perfect amount.” John whispered.
“I’m scared you’re spending too much time with the dairy cows from how cheesy that was.” Luke replied, kissing him on the nose.
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elfyourmother · 6 years
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for the ask meme if you feel like drabblin' anything maybe loghain with sentence #10 or dialogue #10? alternatively garrus with sentence #1 if you wanna work that
Kaidan wasn’t sure when it happened, exactly. He hadn’t been gone for long, not at all; he practically raced back to his seat in the mess, so that he wouldn’t miss the start of the second half. His beloved Whitecaps were playing in a cup final, after all, even if it was several light years away from ravaged, besieged Earth, on a pitch on the Citadel. It was something to keep everyone’s mind off things for a little while, at least.
But when he slid back onto the metal chair, there was a six pack sitting on the table that wasn’t there before. Kaidan looked around for a moment, and his curiosity got the better of him, making him pull out one of the bottles to examine it. It was…levo, at least. Some kind of hipster IPA, brewed by asari monks or something.
“Is it alright? I wasn’t sure what humans drink.”
Kaidan glanced up to see Garrus leaning against the wall, next to the vid screen. “Uh, no offense, but…haven’t you been dating one for a little while now?” Kaidan asked a bit delicately.
“She drinks ryncol for fun. I meant normal humans,” Garrus said.
Kaidan grinned. “Well, you happen to be talking to a connoisseur of sorts. Never heard of this one, but I’m game.” He flicked off the cap with his omni-tool, and took a quick chug. It was a little more hops-y than he normally liked his brews, but it was pretty smooth, with a lot of character. He decided to take a few more, to really make up his mind. “Hey, what’s the occasion, anyway?” he asked suddenly.
“I was just kind of hoping that you’d, y’know…fall in love with me,” Garrus drawled, with a shrug, and a nonchalant flicker of his mandibles.
Kaidan felt his cheeks grow hot and flushed, and he laughed a bit nervously, shaking his head in the process. He took another swig, just to be sure–of what, just then, he didn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t entirely about the beer, either. 
“Didn’t need beer for that,” Kaidan mumbled. “It helps, though.”
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magnanimousmonarch · 6 years
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outofcake: I’ve really been itchin to write lately but I have no idea where to even start. It’s been sooo long. If I were to repost a meme, would anyone be interested in doing a little back and forth drabblin’? That would be so hype!
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kusunokihime-a · 6 years
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     Headin’ afk a while - be back in a while!
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[i might do some drabblin when i get back home from work, please fill up my inbox with questions i’d love you for it]
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jynzandtonic · 3 years
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I’d like to do some drabblin’ to get myself back in the swing of writing lil’ tings—send me your thotty thots/mini-prompts today and I’ll pick up to five of ‘em to fill!
xoxo, jyn 🖤😽
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kusunokihime-a · 6 years
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     Gotta run and make some dinner :3 I’ll get back to drabblin’ once that’s done - thennn maybe some shorter drafts!
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