#microfic challenge

for @steddiemicrofic "time" | 485 | T | cw: mention of blood and broken bone | College AU, commentator Eddie, team captain Steve | Ao3 | part 1

The Tigers are one throw from winning the game. For the friends and family looking, it's just a friendly match between two colleges, but they don't know about the potential sponsors sitting among them. The sports department has been hoping to buy a new coach, so different teams wouldn't have to rock-paper-scissor who goes to the away games during the season.

Eddie's been hearing about it a lot, against his own will.

"DESERVED!" he yells into the microphone as Jason Carver trips and falls on the court. "I mean, foul! Somebody give that guy a yellow card!" he changes tracks as one of the professors glares at him through the glass. With a smile, he gives her a friendly wave.

"See, that's why I say there's no shame in wearing velcro shoes. There is so much blood, you guys. I think I see a bone? This is brutal, dear adventurers, be grateful you don't get the visual, only the kid-frie— well, the version that won't make you faint, filtered by yours truly."

There's a slam on his glass, so he waves again at the teacher. 

"Oh! The coach is calling for time! Yes, I already know they are not playing charades, thank you. But you know what, I think it would be great entertainment between sets. Uh-oh, the Tiger's captain is glaring at me. He's walking up the bleachers. This may be the end of our adventure, dear listeners, the journey was magical and—"

"Eddie!"

He squeaks, slamming the mute button in panic. 

"Captain!" he grins, turning around to greet the sweaty and flushed—and gorgeous—face of Steve Harrington. 

"Coach is pissed," he states, pushing damp hair out of his face. Eddie has yet to make him wear his bandana on the court, but he will make it happen. At some point. 

"Why?" He blinks his eyes innocently. "I'm just doing my job."

Steve puts his hands on his hips and raises an eyebrow.

"Blood? Broken bone?" he reminds him. 

Eddie crosses his arms defiantly.

"People don't want boring sports commentary, Steve. They want blood and circuses!"

"Uh-uh. I know for a fact this is not how it goes." Steve gives him an unimpressed look. "Correct it before his family starts freaking out."

"Fine," Eddie huffs. "Did you come here just to piss on my fun?"

Steve shakes his head, dropping his arms to come closer and lean on Eddie's chair.

"I came for a good luck kiss. Daddy really wants that bus."

Eddie snorts and uncrosses his arms. 

"Okay, Daddy, then come here," he pulls him in for a quick peck, and then two more, lips catching hungrily but knowing they don't have time for more. They pull away and smile at each other. 

"Get that goal for the team!" Eddie pushes him away and slaps his butt for extra luck.

"Still the wrong sport, baby," Steve laughs before leaving the commentator's booth.

Rated: High T/ Low M

@kingdonmicrofic

WC: 476

“How old were you the first time you had sex?”

“Old for a boy, I think. Nineteen?”

“Really?” Mel put a segment of a peach into Frank's awaiting mouth. Her neck tingled when she felt the subtle swipe of his tongue across the pad of her thumb as she fed him.

“How come?”

“It’s my turn. Remember, complete honesty. Do you actually like giving head?”

Mel flushed. He was a wicked man to ask that. “...yes.”

Frank slipped a segment of the juicy, dripping peach past her lips. She nearly groaned as his thumb pushed through the seam. His eyes glinted as he slowly pulled his thumb out. After her tongue swirled around it, of course.

“What’s your favorite position?”

The low chuckle made Mel’s cheeks burn.

“Don't laugh but missionary.”

Now this took her by surprise. “Wow! Didn't see that coming. Elaborate.”

“You're cheating.” Frank smirked. “And I'm waiting for my piece.”

“Not cheating. I didn't ask a second question, I gave a command.”

“Oh, all right. It's missionary because I'm a sap who likes looking into your eyes.”

Great answer. “Here, open.’

Peach juice dribbled down her finger and onto her open palm. Frank slowly slid his tongue down the digit and lazily licked the sugary stickiness. Mel clenched her legs together.

There were only two pieces left. Frank brought the fleshy piece so very close to her mouth. “What's your favorite thing I do to you in bed?”

The low croon made her body shiver. God, he was too good at this.

“W-when you kiss me.” She managed.

“I kiss you all the time, even when we aren't in bed.”

“That's my answer.”

He teasingly brought the peach segment into her lips. The fruit was soaked in its sugary nectar. A few drops landed on the corner of her mouth. Frank was such a gentleman to wipe the corner with his tongue. Just to make sure it was all gone.

“What’s your favorite part of me?”

The bold and seductive Frank took a backseat to the adoring and tender version of himself. The one that Mel loved most and couldn't wait to spend her life with.

“Your heart.”

This was his best answer yet. Mel put the end of the last piece between her teeth. It wasn't even a second before Frank took the peach from her lips with his own. The way his teeth tore the flesh made juice spurt down their lips and chins.

How he looked at her as he ate made her borderline tachychardic. “I think I want more.” Frank uttered hoarsely as he captured her lips with his own. The force of him sent Mel flopping back onto her pillows. Never mind his lips and fingers were sticky and wet. She'd clean him soon enough.

“So very sweet, Mrs. Langdon.”

“Motherfucking bloody tree cunt,” Sirius’ voice is loud enough to turn several heads. Nobody pays much mind to it, least of all Remus. Sirius Black storming into the Gryffindor common room with a string of colourful curses flowing out of his mouth isn’t an unnatural occurrence.

Remus simply turns a page just as his boyfriend drops into his lap with a woebegone sigh. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened, Moony?” Sirius asks pointedly, after a silence in which Remus has managed to finish a chapter.

“Not sure I want to.”

“Oh but you must. It’s imperative you know what Prongs is up to because I’ve caught him breaking best-friend-soulmates code. And that is unacceptable.”

Remus springs up. “James broke The Code?”

Sirius nods solemnly. “I was at practice just now, and I’m leaving the Quidditch locker rooms right, and then. I witnessed blasphemy. Betrayal of the highest degree. Utter shamelessness.”

“Is this the part I guess or are you pausing for dramatic effect?”

“Fucking hell, Remus, JamesandReguluswereflirting,” Sirius says in a rush, then claps his hands over his mouth, aghast. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Remus is…oddly disappointed? 

“That’s it?”

“That’s it?!” Sirius parrots incredulously, tearing a hand through his hair, “that’s it?!?! Remus, do you not understand the enormity of the situation?!?! My brother, my baby brother, is being tainted, by my best mate no less, and they were obviously, disgustingly flirting without a care in the world as if they weren’t committing treason—”

“Regulus is literally seventeen. He’s not a baby, Sirius.”

Sirius huffs. “He’s my little brother. I can baby him all I like.”

“Aww, Sirius,” Remus coos. “Are you worried your brother’s going to end up with the wrong person?”

“Yes?” Sirius looks utterly torn. “I mean, I want him to be treated right and his person needs to understand him and realise that he overthinks and gets pissy on random days and hates white chocolate and he’s allergic to peanuts and he never dresses warmly enough and he’ll say he’s fine but he’d almost never fine and he needs someone sensitive and honest and—”

Remus’ heart swells as Sirius keeps ranting about his worry of his brother and the requirements for Regulus’ future partner. It’s one of the many reasons he loves Sirius as much as he does. Sirius’ capacity to love is so large, so incredibly huge that he never can express it directly, but when he does, it’s all-encompassing, brimming with affection and sincerity.

Shit, Remus is down bad. 

“Sirius,” he says patiently. “You do realise you just described James in every possible way, right? Sensitive, honest, wholesome…?”

Sirius draws a breath. Plays the conversation on loop in his head, before saying at length, “Yes…I did…didn’t I?”

“James is the literal blueprint of the perfect man for Reg. Don’t worry so much. They’ll be wonderful together.”

Sirius seems to consider this. “I’ll still kill James.”

Remus smiles. 

This will have to do.

I'm doing a microfic challenge just for fun. Mostly it's just to get me to write something fresh each day and force myself to think outside of my usual patterns. I've been in a rut with writing for a while now.

That said! Here is Day One:

Prompt: Greet | Characters: Giyuu & Sabito

Here's the link to AO3 if you prefer

“You’re too skinny.”

That’s the first thing the boy with peach hair and the scar says to him.

Is that any way to greet someone?

The words in his head are Tsutako’s. She always reprimanded him for being too blunt, for lacking manners, for forgetting to be polite.

It seems someone forgot to teach this boy that lesson as well.

Giyuu looks down at his own body of twelve years, draped in a red kimono that is several sizes too large. He doesn’t think that he’s too skinny. He’s not sure what too skinny even means.

…He does know that he is hungry.

As if he can read the thought in his face, the peach-haired boy jumps to his feet and runs from the room. In his absence, Giyuu realizes that the space feels too big. He feels like he is suddenly wandering and lost, so very alone again. Memories tug at him. Tsutako— His hands clench. His eyes prickle like he would cry, as if he has any more tears to shed. But, then, before the feeling has time to sink into his skin and settle deep into his chest, the boy is back.

He carries a plate of finely shaped onigiri.

“Eat them,” the boy says, and shoves the plate into Giyuu’s hands without waiting to see if Giyuu actually wants them.

Giyuu stares down at the plate. His stomach growls. He glances shyly back up at the boy who is watching him intently. Waiting.

It’s rude to stare.

Tsutako would have said it. She would have smiled, and nudged his chin with her finger to remind him. But Giyuu does not know this boy, and he doesn’t feel brave enough to tell him that he doesn’t really want to be watched so closely while he eats.

The only way to get him to stop, he thinks, is probably to do as he says. So he drops his own gaze, lifts one of the onigiri, and bites into it.

He freezes as the flavor and texture fill his mouth.

It’s good. Better than good. Giyuu thinks he’s never had an onigiri taste so wonderful. He forgets about the boy’s rude greeting and his presumptuous behavior and his impolite staring, dropping to the ground cross-legged and devouring the onigiri in large ravenous bites.

He doesn’t remember the last time he ate.

So…he guesses he should thank the boy.

He does just that. But his mouth is full. It comes out muffled and indecipherable.

Don’t talk with your mouth full of food, Giyuu.

Tsutako had disapproved of that habit most of all, and he cringes at his mistake. He waits for the boy to wrinkle his nose and curl his lip in disgust. He waits for him to walk away.

…But he doesn’t. His lavender eyes widen a bit in surprise, then soften, and a laugh spills from his mouth. He has a nice laugh, Giyuu thinks, and a small corner of his heart warms towards him.

“I guess you think they’re good,” he says. “I helped make them myself.” He sits down next to Giyuu, and continues to watch him while he eats. Giyuu thinks he doesn’t really mind so much. The boy has friendly eyes, after all.

He waits until Giyuu has finished the plate of onigiri to speak again.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

So perhaps he does know how to greet someone properly, Giyuu realizes, if a bit out of order.

Giyuu hasn’t spoken in a long time, days or weeks—he isn’t sure. His voice, when it comes, scratches a little roughly over the syllables of his name.

“Giyuu.”

“Giyuu,” the boy with peach hairs repeats, then points to himself, “Sabito.”

Sabito.

A nice name to match his friendly eyes and his warm laugh. Giyuu feels his lips pull into the start of a smile.

in the heat of the moment

november microfic challenge 3/30 - bundle @kingdonmicrofic 500/500

Mel’s fever is 102 when she decides to call out of work.

august 1st: pool (479)

Many people wouldn’t ever guess it, certainly not based on the way she operates at work when lives are on the line, but Mel King has always loved the thrill of breaking a rule or two. Rarely anything major, nothing so serious to really ever get into any actual trouble, but just enough to know what she was doing was technically wrong and therefore all the more exciting.

✨ 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖎𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘 ✨

I’ve set myself a daily writing challenge in another fandom to do a one-sentence-story each day, and I’m really enjoying it — so I thought, why not do one for Merlin too?

I’d love for other people to join in! Zero pressure to do it every day, just do whatever works for you.

𝕵𝖔𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 ⚔️

🔮 Write a short story (could be one sentence, could be a paragraph, could be a page!)

🍄‍🟫 Share it and tag me please! @aemelia

✨ Repeat daily throughout February, or whatever works for you. That’s it!

𝕱𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ⚔️

For people who prefer prompts, here’s 20 to get you started (but this is optional):

📝 Feast

📝 Battle

📝 Forest

📝 Knight

📝 Injury

📝 First kiss

📝 Secret

📝 Dragon

📝 Magic reveal

📝 Danger

📝 River

📝 Humour

📝 Argument

📝 Confession

📝 Alone

📝 Stranger

📝 Mist

📝 Arrow

📝 Creature