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Short Oneshot Requests

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"Vegeta," said Goku, through a heaping helping of ham.

"Kakarot, that's disgusting," said Vegeta, talking with a mouthful as well.

Goku swallowed and picked his teeth with no grace whatsoever.

"I've been thinkin'."

"A miracle! Kakarot, think. That's almost as mindblowing as the fall of Frieza's empire."

"I'm serious," said Goku, sadly.

"What? Quit beating around the bush and spit it out. I'm trying to enjoy my dinner."

"Well, Vegeta. I think you and I should get married."

Vegeta nearly choked on a string bean.

"Think about it. Our wives are gone. We're the last of our kind. We've been fused several times, which has made us one in mind and spirit. We're always together. We both love fighting, and food! It seems pretty inevitable to me."

"Have you no sense at all, Kakarot? If this is a marriage proposal then treat it like one! Don't hammer out a blasted sales pitch at m-mmmf"

Goku took that as a yes, and dived in for the kiss of his life.

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"Mai, umm..."



"Here's the finger. Put it on."

"You really don't like romance, do you?"

"I'm beautiful when I hate the world, aren't I?"


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"It's so pink!" said Ty Lee, admiring the new diamond on her finger.

"Yeah," said Mai, wrapping her arms around her fiance. "Nothing but the pinkest for my queen."

Ty Lee laughed, and nuzzled against her lover's neck. "You sound so weird when you're trying to be romantic."

"Har har," said Mai, smiling contentedly.

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"The guys are gonna flip out," said Korra, right outside of the Spirit World portal. "Mako especially."

"We'll have to be sure to thank Mako," said Asami. "Without him, we might not have found each other."

"Watch us go back and find out he's engaged, too."

"To who? Prince Wu?"

The two shared a laugh, and then they kissed. Although their relationship was young, their friendship and trust were absolute, and they could feel it deep within their own souls that this union was for the best.

Asami couldn't wait to go ring shopping, and Korra couldn't wait to see the jaws hit the floor.

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If loneliness were the mere lack of human companionship then Gladion was an expert. From a young age he traveled with his Pokemon, first through his home region, then later through a number of others, once his mother and sister were well and present to run the Aether Foundation.

But then Hau showed up, cheerful as could be, and decided to tag along. He didn't ask. He'd just decided, firm in his belief that they were better together. Gladion supposed he could at least try, given everything they'd been through already. They'd traveled Kanto together, as well as Sinnoh, taking on the leagues and building their new teams. Hau always had his Raichu. Gladion always had his Silvally. Natives of their traveled regions looked up those two Pokemon in awe, building an interest in the quaint, remote Alola region.

Then they would return to Alola, year after year, league after league, and whenever they went their separate ways, Gladion felt empty.

The emptiness grew with each parting, and the duration they'd spent separated grew shorter and shorter, until once they'd hit the Alolan Shore, and Hau took Gladion's hand.

"You can stay at my place," Hau said. "I know we haven't talked about it much, but I reckon if we're gonna be together, we should always be together."

"A marriage of sorts?"

Hau blushed and ducked his head. "If... if that's what you want."

"I accept," said Gladion, smiling, and they kissed in the evening breeze. Expertise in loneliness gave nothing to a lifetime of growth and happiness, but this? This was exactly what he needed to keep his spirit alive and growing. Love. Trust. Companionship. Hau.

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"I'll kill you," said Heero, gazing down at Duo.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Duo, sliding on the ring.

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"Oh my goodness," said Cathy, clapping her hands together and practically swooning. "You have to tell me everything, Trowa."

"Well, sis. I asked Quatre if he'd marry me, and he said yes."

Quatre stifled a chuckle. Where that is technically what happened, Catherine wanted to know more than what she'd already pieced together in her own mind. She stood there tapping her foot, and groaned when Trowa wouldn't add anything more to it.

"Sheesh, Trowa. You don't have to be such a wise guy."

"In think Trowa would prefer those details stay between the two of us," Quatre explained. "After all, there were tears involved."


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"You are the chosen one of my heart. Marry me."

"G-get real," said Lloyd, red from ear to ear.

"I'm serious, though. I'm on my knees and everything."

"Geez..." Lloyd could not be more embarrassed, nor could he be happier. It was hard to explain, but he had a sense for when Zelos was kidding around and when he was being serious. Lloyd dropped to his knees too. Rare as it was, he'd initiated the hug. He had two loving fathers, and if they happened to be eavesdropping, accidentally or otherwise, Lloyd wanted there to be no mistake. He was serious, too.

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Tweek was lean and sturdy beneath his lover’s careful touch. Lean and sturdy. Just how Craig liked it. Maybe the others find that boring. They prefer hot shit: Smooth! Passionate! Voluptuous! Titillating! Irresistible! The thing about hot shit, though, is Craig has gotten over it, like he got over girls. Though to be fair, he was over guys, too.

Except Tweek. When Craig was over Tweek, he was actually hovering over him, rubbing their dicks together, making each other squirm and cum. Usually Craig blew his load first. It was that lean and sturdy body he loved so much.

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It happened once. Then it happened again. Soon Heero got pent up in mere days after each encounter. He was a soldier. He knew how to wait. He was also a survivalist, and what his body told him was that these encounters were pertinent. These feelings were irrational. There was nothing pertinent about the swell of his cock buried in the warm depths of Duo’s mouth. That tongue, that pressure. He had it memorized. That texture, that moisture, that jolt of electricity that shot through him. He could masturbate, or be swallowed. He chose the latter every time now.

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Riku stood over Sora like a tower. In their younger days, Sora found that hard to swallow. Sora finds it hard to swallow still.

Riku always kissed him softly, commented on Sora’s eyes, the perfect angle of his jaw, the gentle dip of his back as they spooned. Riku fit him like a glove. He was large, warm, and safe. He was home.

Riku said all these same things about Sora, and he meant them, yet Sora wondered still how his stature, seemingly frail in comparison, could even compare to the solid, flawless curvature of Riku’s muscular frame.

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Makoto warmed Ami up first: her long neck, smooth breasts, rosy nipples, and that smooth, tight abdomen, traces of feather light kisses forming a crown around the navel. Then finally, that tongue with years of experience came. It circled and the flesh of her legs, then made its way to the clit and labia. She then slid two digits inside Ami, hooking them around to meet her g-spot. She pumped, pouring her lightning reflexes into that precious body. Ami gasped, spasmed, and released all over her lover’s hand and the sheets. Water for lightning. That was their way.

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It started as a vacation, which became more of a date. And the more it became a date, the prettier Asami got. Korra always admired Asami’s gorgeous, heck, everything! If there was a single flaw, she’d never know. They ogled one another, and although it was happening so fast, once the shirts and pants hit the ground, time stopped. They became mouths upon mouths, breasts upon breasts. Asami had Korra pinned to the ground, showering her with kisses, her makeup never running. Not even when her tongue and red lips caught the rising swell of Korra’s clit.

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Keith was many things: kind, loyal, quick, sassy, private, and maybe a bit reckless. Lance was insecure, talking himself up then down, a class clown who was crying on the inside. Between the two of them, there was a lot crap dividing them in the beginning, though it dawned on them eventually that they balanced each other out. It was anyone’s guess who cracked first. Lance says he did, and Keith says he’s lying. That’s how they kept their privacy. At night, Keith took much of his pent up energy and directed it toward Lance, kissing him fiercely, fondling his balls, and sometimes they even fucked. Lance tells Keith each night that his favorite part is the afterglow. Lance basked in love, and Keith had plenty to give. Keith smiles and buries his head in the crook of Lance’s neck, because he knows it’s true.

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They married on Melemele Island, spending their first night as newly weds in a waterfront loft paid in full by Kahuna Hau, a gift. Their wedding was a day their friends and family celebrated them, and the night was where they celebrated each other. Moon planted Lillie’s long legs upon her shoulders while she entered her with their strap on. Lillie’s nails drew circles in Moon’s hair, undoing hours of braiding and tucking in minutes. They kissed deeply, their mooncast shadows pressed together on the wall, as though they were a single entity. And they were.

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Shadow’s body always provided him with sufficient energy. Eventually he learned to put that energy to creative use, such as pinning Sonic down, kissing him fiercely, making him gasp, squirm, moan. Shadow treated it as a competition at first. The sexual reproductive urges of his body made little sense to him otherwise, but he learned to appreciate them quickly. Sometime during their strange new ritual Sonic pumped his cock with deliberate ferocity, and when Shadow reached his climax he felt so close to the other hedgehog that he ceased all thought in that moment. He allowed himself feel instead.

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Fox was top notch whenever there was trouble. Whenever there wasn’t, he become grumpy, depressed, didn’t play well with others outside of combat, crazy enough. He was pent up. Bored. That’s where drama with Krystal happened. Fox was blindsided when she left. Falco was there to pick him back up, in ways no one else could. This old bird knew every inch of this fox’s body. He’d make Fox gasp for more, laying his muzzle flat on the bed while Falco took him from behind. This was Fox’s favorite position. Falco never questioned it.

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"...five-time champion of the Kalos region. Everyone put their hands together for Bonnie!"

It was on every television in town. Ash knew that girl would become something great. She still had Dedenne, who had taken to perching on her shoulder. She also had Zygarde, not caught, but free to roam and protect Kalos as Ash's Greninja was. Zygarde joined her at her tournaments, never as a combatant, but always as a trusted friend who had hundreds of eyes and ears fixed on any potential trouble lurking in the shadows.

Ash thought it'd be cool to battle Zygarde some day. Maybe Charizard could take it on, or perhaps Greninja.

"Your sister's come a long way, Clemont," he said, watching her on the big screen. They met at a quaint cafe, the likes of which could be spotted on any corner in the bigger cities in Kalos. Lumiose, most notably. "It'd be awesome to battle her."

"Hey now. Don't count me out," said Clemont. "I've been working on more than my inventions, you know."

"That's awesome," said Ash. "You'll have to show me sometime. We have a lot to catch up on."

"Truly." Clemont pushed up his glasses. "I'm glad you're here, Ash. It's been lonely without dad and Bonnie around."

"I'll bet," said Ash. "We've spent a lot of nights talking on Xtransceiver, huh?" His hand slowly drifted over Clemont's. "But nothing beats having you right here."

"Wow." Clemont's cheeks were red. So many nights. So many talks. He didn't know if he was ready for a physical intimacy. He thought of Serena, mildly guilty, thinking back to when she kissed Ash goodbye ten years ago.

Could he be so bold now? They were older. Things have changed. Ash and Serena moved on, but were still close friends. Ash was here now, grown, handsome, loved science and he loved Pokemon. What could be better? Clemont was fortunate, touched even. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve this, but Ash, being here now, banished his loneliness, and filled him with joy.

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"Hey," said Ty Lee, dressed from head to toe in festive skirts, beads and bangles clinking on her wrists and shoulders. As usual, she was very, very pink. A pink Mai could tolerate that in no other, because Ty Lee owned the look. She owned the color. It was in her aura. Not that Mai could see such an aura. She just took Ty Lee's word for it. "Earth to sleepy head. We've got a date!"

"Do I have to?" said Mai, a touch less grumpy than intended. She didn't like parties. Every encounter with Zuko was awkward. They'd long since made amends. They'd forgiven each other. She still loved him, in a way. He was going to be her husband once, but that was long past.

It turned out, when they were young and eager, that Firelord Ozai arranged a different marriage for Zuko, unbeknownst to them.

Zuko fought it. He did not want to comply. He swore to love Mai and have her as his wife. In the end, though, by the time he'd skated out of his betrothal to Hui Yin, Mai had already had Ty Lee in her bed chambers nightly. She'd grown tired of Zuko's absence, above all else. Although she appreciated them, and was loathe to break things off, she felt in her heart that this wasn't what she wanted. She'd spent too many lonely nights without him. Firelord Zuko was a busy man, always at work, always under absolute scrutiny and pressure to be proper. Whenever Mai was by his side, she had to be someone whom she plainly wasn't, to be an accepted member of his presence in the public eye.

It just wasn't going to work. Not when she didn't have to pretend for Ty Lee. She didn't even have to pretend in public. It displeased her parents, sure, but what else was new? Mai was on the correct side of history by the end of the war. Thanks to her good 'friend' Azula, she was thrown in prison and tortured for it. Like hell would she swallow an entire life of pomp just to be the Firelord's trophy wife, after all that. Even if it was Zuko. Even if she still loved him.

"Heeeey," said Ty Lee, falling on the bed beside Mai. "Get dressed. You promised."

"OK," said Mai. She stood, wearing her usual travel clothes. "I'm dressed. Let's go."

Ty Lee laughed, and took her girlfriend's arm. The festival of love was going to be wonderful this year. Not a cloud in the sky. Mai was only kidding, somewhat. She let the maids tidy her hair and paint her nails. Otherwise, she couldn't be arsed to look any better. That was her style, and Ty Lee accepted it, as Mai accepted her pink, pink, pink.

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"Sand, how dull you are
The water does little, too
I am not impressed."

"Wow," said Zuko. "That's your third haiku about how much you hate the beach."

"It's not as interesting without Azula," Mai confessed, leaning into Zuko's strong embrace. "But I'd much rather be bored with you."

"Funny," said Zuko, leaning into her forehead. "I feel the same way."

The waves crashed as they kissed, and the noise of children and nobles playing on the beach melted away. The Firelord and his lady were in their own little world, resting alone beneath their umbrella.

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Jacques taught Aila to take comfort in silence. She'd grown up in a tight-knit village, where everyone knew everyone. It didn't have that stone cold, distant feel to it that the Ironhead cities had. Of course, she and Jacques agreed that they generally felt better in the thick of nature than in the walls of cities. She didn't get much silence in nature either, surrounded by the voices in the wind, by her ancestors. Farther away from the village, the silence unnerved her. There were spirits, but they had no trust in her, and no reason to have trust in her. Therefore, the silence was stark. Jacques leaned back and enjoyed it, though. He liked the sound of the trees and wind. Aila came to like it, too.

Aila taught Jacques to take comfort in companionship. She generally stuck by him, or Queen. Closer to the end of the war, she found herself following Jacques more, to the point where she slept beside him at night. He laid very still, and his characteristic silence followed him into sleep. He once woke quite easily when she huddled against him for warmth, or when she stirred. She was a restless sleeper, and didn't like to be alone. Eventually, his body came to know her warmth, and what followed next was his arm around her, as they eased together into sleep.

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She cried for her father on a nightly basis, several ticks after bedtime. He'd been gone for over ten thousand years. She had no choice but to stand tall and tend to the war against the Galra. It was in her blood to fight for what she knew was right. What she knew was good for every territory occupied by the enemy Galra forces.

And she did. She fought, and bit by bit she came closer to liberating her allies. She did it because it was right, and because it made her father proud.

Her father, whose memory was wiped from all by hers and Coran's memories now. He was no longer part of the castle. No longer able to guide her.

So at night, when the other paladins were asleep, she allowed herself to grieve. She would cry. She would talk to dead space. She would lean against the backdrop of stars, and feel cold and empty. Whatever it was she needed to do to grieve, she did. It was all she could do not be distracted by grief in critical moments.

"You know," said Lance one evening. "Whatever pain you're hanging onto, you don't have to face it alone. That's what we're here for."

"Oh," said Allura, caught off guard. "Don't be silly, Lance. I'm perfectly all right."

"I know that," said Lance. "But maybe you'd be even better if you had someone to talk to." He had to resist the urge to waggle his eyebrows, or toss out a pickup line. Flirtation was mostly a habit, and sometimes a bit of a nervous tic. He was serious, though. He'd lost count of the amount of times he'd lay awake, hearing her cry for her father. He didn't sleep too well, hadn't for a long time, and where he didn't necessarily want to impose, it didn't feel right to ignore it.

"Perhaps," said Allura. "Though you really ought to be getting to bed."

"It's never too late to chat with a princess," said Lance, holding out his arm. She indulged him and allowed him to pull her into a half hug. How strange it was, to find herself smiling at such a time. She hoped her father was smiling, too, wherever his spirit resided in the cosmos.