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#wednesday100
lavellenchanted · 2 days
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on (some) Wednesdays, we drabble
The fireworks burst overhead in a shimmering riot colour, turning the world for a moment into a glittering kaleidoscope of reds, blues and golds. They crackle and fizz, so loud that Aerith almost doesn’t catch the words Cloud’s softly saying.
“It is real, you know.”
Her breath catches as she remembers another night not unlike this, the sky lit up in green, his gaze burning into her the same way it does now, and something so tender it’s almost painful fills her heart.
Tightening her grip on his hand where their fingers interlace, she smiles and whispers back, “I know.”
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theawkwardterrier · 23 days
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Wednesday 100: Vows
Jamie wonders, as he speaks, whether she knows how paltry these things are that he's pledged: a criminal's name, a misfit clan which barely acknowledges him, a family he's failed.
His body, though…that he can devote to her entirely, in peace and in trial. Still, he must contain the promises which might further overwhelm Claire: the work of his hands, the attention of his mind, the faithfulness of his word, every breath until his last.
He can only hope that something of this is enough for her, this rare and impossible woman, now his rare and infinitely precious wife.
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frasers-of-my-heart · 2 months
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Wednesday 100: Faith
Faith curled up, wrapping herself around Claire’s growing belly as she slept. “Mummy and Da are worried about ye, wee bairn. Stay put ‘til it’s time, aye?” Claire had woken as she spoke, but didn’t let on. She held the tear in her eye as Faith patted her sibling through her, echoing the same plea. Suddenly the baby answered and kicked so hard that Faith’s hand bounced up and down making her giggle and Claire joined in.
“I remember when your father first felt you like that, you know.”
“Aye, so do I,” Jamie rolled over and held them all.
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Wednesday 100: to see the look on Claire’s face
The only news to rival the joy on Claire’s face when she learns of a new grandchild is when Marsali tells her they’ll return home to the ridge with them; this war has cost them so much — their safety, for one — and it almost cost them their children. Too close… They’d come too close to a nightmare they’d never return from.
She suspects Claire’s joy is actually greater now than months ago when Marsali shared the news of her fifth pregnancy — because they will be home for the birth, and altogether.
Marsali already knows the name, whether lass or laddie.
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curator-on-ao3 · 4 months
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Wednesday Drabble: Cheers
Una gets happier after a few drinks, lips curling in giggles, long neck muscles in motion with wine-lubricated laughter.
Chris veers opposite, whiskey pulling him under, more somber than in sobriety, hand tight on his glass and head spinning into doomsday.
So two people usually so in tune fall out of sync in the drink, a lift and drop of what could be alcohol-fueled entropy of separation and loss.
Except.
Her giggle hoists him up from under and his hand on the glass steadies her artificial rise, an instinctive mutual return to a shared whole.
And they’ll drink to that.
Christopher Pike drabbles: 2, 1/?
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lemongrass77777 · 9 days
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Wednesday 100
Harry arrived in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was well after midnight. He’d just gotten back from detention with professor Umbridge. His left hand was throbbing painfully. His was skin pale.
“Harry, you alright, mate?” Asked Ron, as he sat down in one of the squashy armchairs. There wasn't anyone else in the common room.
“I’m fine,” Harry said dully.
“Well, you don’t look it.” Ron grabbed his hand and peppered kisses on it, on his awful scars.
Harry made a small noise.
“You want me to stop?”
Harry flushed, finally bringing color into his face.
“Please, please don’t stop.”
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Wednesday 100(s)
Every week, I post a wee Outlander drabble (100 word story) on twitter and every week, I think, "I should post this on tumblr too." And today I am finally committing myself to it. I'm currently in the process of writing and sharing one drabble from every episode from season 2, all from the perspective of Fergus. Here are the first three so you can catch up!
2x01, Place
After breakfast with the ladies at Maison Elise, Fergus found himself navigating the labyrinthine streets of Paris, blending into the swarms of people, unnoticed. He effortlessly nicked a loaf of bread from an inattentive merchant, before finding his way to the la rivière Seine. He would pass the afternoon watching the boats come and go, dreaming of lives he would never live but was desperate to experience. It was normal for young boys to seek adventures, the ladies told him. But that alone could not describe the longing within him. A longing for a place, for people all his own.
 
2x02, Cramped
The tiny closet under the stairs where Fergus slept was growing increasingly cramped, not with possessions, but because he was apparently getting taller. He found himself curling into tighter and tighter balls to fit in this little space of his, though it was evident that soon enough, he would no longer be able to lay his head here. He looked around the space, the only place he had ever called home, and suddenly felt a profound sense of sadness. This place was not perfect, but it was his. Would he ever again find somewhere to safely rest? To call home?
2x03, Worth Keeping
It was not the first time Fergus spotted the burly, redheaded man in the brothel. He was certain that was the man from whom he had lifted the wooden snake currently in his pocket. A difficult target, partly because of his size, but also because the man seemed to be equally observant of his surroundings as Fergus was of his own. Tonight, the man was alone, which was unusual, and was agitated, tapping his fingers relentlessly on his leg. Perhaps his distraction would make him an easy target tonight. Maybe he had something on him Fergus would find worth keeping.
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argyleheir · 3 months
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Drabble - Tie
[Written for @100wednesday - Prompt: Tying a Tie | Fandom: Dracula (2020) | Pairing: Dracula x Jonathan]
"Please," says Dracula, pressing his body into Jonathan's, dipping his hands over Jonathan's shoulders and down his throat before extracting the tie from Jonathan's grip. "Allow me."
He can feel the bob of Jonathan's Adam's apple as he swallows. "Thank you."
Slowly, carefully, Dracula undoes the rippled knot of sapphire-colored silk. Then he remakes it.
Without prompting, Jonathan turns in Dracula's arms to face him, allowing Dracula to inspect his work. Dracula smiles. "One day, perhaps you will become used to doing it yourself, without the aid of a mirror. But until then—I am here, my friend, to help."
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bex-pendragon · 11 months
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Guess who's doing @100wednesday again after 84 years? Me, that's who! In light of the cancellation and pending removal of Willow 2022 from D+, I got inspired to write a few words. This show has meant a lot to me and I'm going to miss it so much.
Elora keeps looking over her shoulder. 
The others think it’s because she’s using her magic. That she’s on alert for danger.
“You can relax a little,” Kit says as they make camp. “The Wyrm isn’t following us yet.”
Elora fakes a smile. She admires Kit’s bravado; her heroism.
Elora doesn’t tell them she’s not looking for the Wyrm, or the Crone, or any of the other enemies they’ve faced. She fears them, but they aren’t the reason she looks back.
They’ve left something unfinished. Something - someone - is missing.
She can’t tell them she’s looking back because she’s looking for Graydon.
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theawkwardterrier · 2 months
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Wednesday 100: Treating
"Ye want to do what?"
"It isn't a new idea," Claire remarks calmly, “and I'm a professional.”
"Aye, but...Convincin' folk that putting a scrap o' disease in them will keep it from catching? They arena the sort to accept that idea easily."
"And I'm not the sort to accept stubbornness. I'll be damned if I don't do everything to protect our tenants, including inoculation."
He looks at her beautiful, determined face and wants to kiss her. "Have me go first. They'll trust that," he says, which he thinks she might prefer.
(He kisses her too, though. Just for good measure.)
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frasers-of-my-heart · 2 months
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Wednesday 100: Traces
For twenty years, Claire would close her eyes and envision Jamie; every crinkle of his eyes, every muscular curve, every mark. She would rub her fingertips together and think of running them across his back, feeling the scars as if they were right in front of her.
Now, after coming together, Claire runs her fingers up Jamie’s back. She tracks each scar beneath, making sure he is real. She breathes in relief that he is, for there are new welts that she wouldn’t know if he was not. She never thought she’d be grateful for them, but they are his.
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Wednesday 100: Port in a Storm
It feels as though the storms hit so much closer in the North Carolina backcountry, the way that the thunder seems to rattle the very foundations of their cabin.
“What’s that?” asks a small voice, muffled under blankets, just as a loud pelting fills the cabin.
“Only a bit o’ hail,” Jamie answers, his arms snug around one child as the others crowd into their bed — even Faith, who has said she’s too old for such things. “We’ll be alright.”
Claire draws Brianna close and catches her husband’s eye over their children’s heads, safe in this home that they built.
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suseagull04 · 2 months
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@100wednesday Mirage
This is a mirage. It has to be. 
He's staring at Henry, who's wearing nothing but Texas gear from head to toe. There's a cowboy hat on top of his head, riding pants, and his shirt… somehow, he managed to dig up Alex's old lacrosse jersey from only God knows where. Alex can't help thinking that as usual, his clothes look better on Henry than they ever did on Alex. To top it all off, of course, he has a yellow Texas rose pinned to his shirt. 
“What's all this?”
“I saw it's Texas’ birthday. I couldn't resist, my love.”
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aswrittenbyaj · 11 months
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wednesday 100 x john wick
author's notes: going to try to do this challenge every wednesday. a drabble of exactly 100 words. good luck to me i guess lol.
credits & dedications: gif by: @dyavolvich challenge by: @100wednesday
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"please don't tell me you're going to die right here in this subway. that would really make this the worse fuckin' night of my life. though you don't look much better. what happened? wait, no, let me guess. d-i-y blood drive?"
for as corny of a joke it was, he chuckled out a coughing fit. if he was going to die here, at least he didn't have to hear another shitty one-liner. 
vision going black, he keeled over on the metal bench.
"shit." the last thing he felt were the stranger’s hands shifting his body. "hold on, john. i gotcha."
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adsosfraser · 10 months
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wednesday 100
The first week, she can’t stomach the flowers on the dirt, already wilting into the rich scottish soil. The next, she’s too numb to do anything but sit with her husband, braiding her fingers through the grass. Her hands shakily turn pages of unused children’s books, her voice thick with tears as she recounts tales. She brings things she hopes are comforting. Umbrellas during the harsh storms to protect what’s safe beneath, blankets when it’s cold. The toys change as she ages. A rattle, a ball, a doll, a football, a little race car, a princess wand, chess. Through the years, it anchors her to the land: Lallybroch.
She plants forget-me-nots, hoping her green thumb will be passed on to her daughter. They flourish, and once she’s rested beside her baby, her children look for the flowers as they creep over to where she and her husband lay as well.
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hollygl125 · 8 months
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Wednesday 100: To the sea.
He’d only lifted his cap to wipe the moisture from his brow, but she’d almost immediately started tugging at one of his sweaty wayward curls.
“I don’t think you’re going to have much luck.”
She let out an exasperated sigh.  “Okay.”
“I’m just going to put the cap back on anyway.”
“I know.  I know.”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, even as he shielded his eyes from the ocean’s glare.
“What?”
“It’s just been a while since anyone cared about the state of my hair.”
“I’ve always cared, my love.  I just wasn’t here to do anything about it.”
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