#Prompt 36

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #36

Okay, in your defense, you didn't mean to blow up the nursing home. Luckily, no one was in there, but now there are a dozen angry senior citizens after you, and boy they are pissed.

[lire-casander]

#36 feeling bad when the other is having a hard time

feeling bad when the other is having a hard time original prompt list here

Robert’s health is rapidly deteriorating. Everyone can see it, and now even his daughters are aware of it. Apparently, Owen’s brother had told them before their trip to attend the wedding, and they’d taken to the news quite well.

Probably, Carlos thinks, because they hadn't seen until that moment what Huntington’s disease does to a person.

It’s not just the deterioration of Robert’s physical condition — the tremors that are harder to hide and the difficulty in remembering certain things. It’s also that, some time along the way, and not that far from that very moment, Robert will cease to be himself, becoming instead a ghost of the man he once had been.

But the disease is also taking its toll on Robert’s family. In the short time he’s known her, Carlos can tell Sydney looks exhausted; it’s the caretaker curse, he thinks. The girls don’t seem to understand what the illness is doing to their father’s health to its full extent, but Carlos is sure they will soon enough. Although it’s not only the girls he’s worried about.

TK thinks he can hide his pain from Carlos, but he’s got a trained eye on soul battlefields. He can tell when TK’s hurting, and this is one of those times. They’ve talked a lot in the past few weeks, ever since they found out about the hereditary condition Owen’s estranged father had gifted them all with. Finding out both Owen and TK should have been a relief, but TK hadn’t really looked happy about it. Instead, Carlos has noticed that his fiancé doesn’t really finish his food anymore and that he fidgets much more than before.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks one night, the day before their last family dinner as fiancés.

“Talk about what?” TK answers without another question, raising one eyebrow at him.

“About what’s stressing you,” Carlos says, pointing at the way TK’s been pushing his vegetables around his plate. “And don’t tell me it’s wedding jitters. I know it’s deeper than that. I know you.”

TK takes a moment to himself, as though he’s pondering whether or not he can trust Carlos with whatever this is. And to Carlos’ utmost panic, he suddenly drops his fork and begins to cry.

It takes Carlos a second to stand up and rush to TK, pulling him into his warm embrace. “I’m here,” he whispers into TK’s ear. “I’ve got you.”

He rocks TK back and forth gently as his fiancé cries, TK’s tears wetting Carlos’ shirt where TK’s face is pressed against Carlos’ chest. It’s an almost unbearable feeling; Carlos’ heart breaks a little with each tear that TK sheds. He resorts to humming the song his mother always sang to him when he was a little kid and he was hurting, but not even that stops TK’s wails from echoing through the loft.

“I’m sorry,” TK hiccups. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“I think you do,” Carlos says softly, “but you’re scared to tell me.” When he feels, more than sees, TK nodding, he continues, “I’m here. I’m your soulmate, remember? You can tell me anything.”

“It’s just—I’m relieved that I won’t develop Huntington’s,” TK confesses. “But I’m so mad at myself because of that. Because my uncle is dying from it, and my cousins will have to grow up without a father, and he will never see them graduate from college, he will never walk them down the aisle, and they won’t be able to call him whenever they have a problem and I—”

“Hey, hey,” Carlos cuts him off. “Breathe, just breathe. “It’s okay to have conflicting feelings, baby. It’s a difficult situation.”

“I just think life’s so fucked up sometimes,” TK sniffles. “I’ve just found out I have extended family. Uncle Robert is so cool. And Aunt Sydney and the girls. Why do they have to go through it? I know what it’s like to lose a parent, I have a brother who’s growing up without his mother and it kills me. How am I supposed to be here tomorrow night and smile at them and act as though nothing bad’s happening when he’s dying? When he wants to die?”

“I know your father has told you this before,” Carlos says after a moment. He chooses his words carefully through his own pain. “But we all have a death sentence hanging over our heads. We’re not promised tomorrow. So we might as well enjoy life to its fullest while we can. That’s what your uncle is doing.”

“But he’s asked Dad—”

“We can’t judge his decision,” Carlos continues, ignoring TK’s attempt at interrupting. “I know you don’t like it, but we have to respect it. We can’t understand anyone until we’ve walked a mile in their shoes, TK. But I get it,” he says softly, holding TK closer and tighter. “You have every right to be upset.”

TK nods, sniffling heavily until his crying resumes; he grabs a handful of Carlos’ shirt in his fist and squeezes, grieving for what could have been and mourning for what will never be.

After what seems like an eternity, TK’s crying subsides; Carlos tries to move back to see TK’s face, but his fiancé holds on for dear life, his grip almost hurting him, so Carlos does the only thing he can think of.

He holds on right back to TK.

[blanc-ci]

Well if it ain’t the consequences of ur own actions

Sequel to this …or maybe prequel? Perhaps Spock just didn’t know what he was getting himself into

[astrobei]

it's my time coming

Will scowls. “Not funny,” he says for a third time. “Go away.” Mike drops the stick unceremoniously. It falls to the damp forest floor, tumbling over itself before coming to a stop, splashing a few drops of water onto the hem of Will’s pants. “Okay fine,” Mike says. “I’ll bite. What’s your deal?” The other fact of the matter is this: tomorrow, Will is going to walk into the Upside Down and not look back. Tomorrow, he is either going to kill Vecna or die trying — and Mike is not going with him.

Even the actual apocalypse had to end sometime, but Will didn’t exactly expect it to happen like this.

[whatwooshkai]

ooh 14, 14!

Blades is still talking about his boyfriend or something with Dani when Heatwave and Kade finally return, the latter being held up by the scruff of his shirt in the former's hand.

"Found him," Heatwave announces, giving Kade a little shake despite the human's loud protests.

"Oh, put him down," Dani lightly chastises, crossing her legs from where she's perched on Blades' shoulder. "He's not a kitten."

"I can't put him down," Heatwave snaps, seeing a little vision of Kade run away again in the corner of his vision. Wow, thanks. There's absolutely no way I saw that coming again. "He keeps running away like a sparkling!"

"Some of us aren't thirty feet tall, you know-" Kade starts to argue.

“Forty,” Heatwave corrects automatically.

Kade blinks, before shaking his head and recovering. “Fine. Some of us aren't forty feet tall-“

“You are not,” Blades interrupts, putting his servos on his hips. “Are you kidding me? Boulder is 40 feet, and they’ve got a whole head on you!”

Whatever rebuttal Heatwave might’ve responded with is drowned out by Kade’s screeching laughter.

Heatwave's shoulders rise to his audials, but another vision in the corners of his optics warns him against throwing Kade as far as he possibly can into the forest.

"Catch," he snarls at Blades, tossing Kade at him instead. Blades scrambles to grab him before he hits the ground. Heatwave's turned around already, but the little beat of relief in Blades' field is proof Kade isn't dead.

He's still laughing, though.

[change-is-perceivable]

Final reminder!

You have one last day to upload any last minute entries!

The collection will stay open until 10pm (CDT) September 5th, 2024

So in other words it will close in about 28 hours!

Remember the minimum word count is only 100 words and you are free to nab any of the 17 prompts you feel like.

With that

I'll be back again to announce when the collection closes and then I'll will be back again on the 6th with the final masterpost!

Be nice to each other! Leave Kudo's! Leave Comments! Share the Percy Love, have fun, and thank you so much at everyone who's participated.

[prompting-oc]

hello all 16,782 of you. i dont post here anymore because i do adult things now but i hope all of you have been well.

[warasings]

𝐀  𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍.  a  prompt  list  inspired  by  two  up’s  musical  36  Questions. feel  free  to  change  pronouns,  etc.  death  mention,  alcohol  mention,  slight  drug  mention.  slight  self  harm  mention.

❛  you  share  a  lot  in  common  with  my  husband.  ❜ ❛  i  feel  like  i  know  you,  like  we’ve  met  before.  ❜ ❛  when  i  was  with  you  i  could  be  myself.  ❜ ❛  when  i  was  with  you  i  was  real.  ❜ ❛  i’m  only  afraid  of  dying  alone.  ❜ ❛  when  i  am  with  you  i  can  feel  shivers  running  down  my  spine.  ❜ ❛  there’s  never  really  one  thing.  ❜ ❛  sad  i  had  to  make  the  call.  ❜ ❛  sometimes  to  solve  a  problem,  you  follow  it  back  to  the  start.  ❜ ❛  so,  you  came  here  looking  for  one  thing.  and  you’re  saying  that  one  thing  was  to  forget  about  me  ?  ❜ ❛  after  tonight,  you’ll  never  hear  from  me  again.  ❜ ❛  we’ll  do  this  one  thing.  ❜ ❛  it’s  our  word  against  his.  ❜ ❛  i  was  told  to  keep  their  secrets.  ❜ ❛  as  i  got  older,  i  got  dumber.  ❜ ❛  i  couldn’t  help  but  cross  the  line.  ❜ ❛  three  times  i  nearly  wrecked  my  life.  ❜ ❛  i  developed  some  fun  habits.  ❜ ❛  she’s  always  been  so  god  damn  independent.  ❜ ❛  but  eventually  we  had  to  send  her  home.  ❜ ❛  for  the  record,  this  is  self  destructive.  ❜ ❛  and  yes,  i  admit,  i  wish  i  could  touch  her.  ❜ ❛  i  was  just,  uh…  setting  the  table,  here.  i  don’t  know  why  i  did  that.  ❜ ❛  it’s  kind  of  like  a  weird  first  date.  ❜ ❛  i  can’t  imagine  all  the  horrible  stuff  you’ve  heard  about  me.  ❜ ❛  i  guess  i’m  still  afraid  that  i  might  lie.  ❜ ❛  there’s  a  good  chance  that  this  wine  terrible.  ❜ ❛  there’s  something  to  the  ritual  of  setting  some  old  shit  on  fire.  ❜ ❛  why  did  you  lie  to  me  ?  ❜ ❛  can  i  pet  your  dog  ?  ❜ ❛  i’m  ___,  what’s  your  name  ?  ❜ ❛  with  you  in  my  life,  i  was  a  better  person.  ❜ ❛  for  the  first  time,  i  was  in  love.  ❜ ❛  all  the  mundane  shit  i  used  to  hate  was  invigorated  with  your  sense  of  wonder.  ❜ ❛  they  say  before  you  die  your  whole  life  flashes  before  your  eyes.  ❜ ❛  you  never  said  goodbye.  ❜

[52drabbles]

Week 36

We've got a song prompt this week - I Will Always Love You by Dolly Parton (or the Whitney Houston version, if you prefer).

Do the thing!

[gunebuggiesprompts]

Word of the Day dpxdc Prompt #36

September 13: Abstain

Danny had to often stop himself from indulging his intrusive thoughts, his emotions much amplified with his ghost half.

Though, in a universe not so far away, what if their Danny wasn't as self restraining? What if that Danny gave up on using his ghost powers for pure good.

What if that universe was the DC one?

[hp-shippy-prompts]

Prompt:

Every year, Tom make a point of ensuring Harry receives exactly 36 birthday presents, just to wind him up.

[jon-withnoh]

I waited for the call to be put through, fiddling with my wedding ring. I spun it around and around my finger. Maybe I ought to have had it resized.

“Hello?” Beatrice’s voice startled me. I had missed the click of the line connecting.

“Hello,” I said. “It’s me.”

“Oh!” Even like this I could hear the genuine delight in her voice. I smiled to myself, picturing her leaning closer to the phone. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” I hadn’t thought of anything to say, or a reason to have called. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Prompt 14: Phone Calls

[magicalincorrectrobodokiquotes]

Dokiween, Day 10: Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil

Halloween challenge by @melodic-b4nter

[lunarrolls]

20 Life Transference with Chetney

i always get so fucking carried away writing chetney. he’s so fun IT’S NOT MY FAULT. anyways have fun with this sort of double h/c because life transference is like that and so is fcg!

•

Life transference is a 3rd-level necromancy spell on the cleric and wizard spell lists.

You sacrifice some of your health to mend another creature’s injuries. You take 4d8 necrotic damage, which can’t be reduced in any way, and one creature of your choice that you can see within range regains a number of hit points equal to twice the necrotic damage you take.

•

The fucking hunters are back, because nothing can ever be easy and their luck always sucks. Someone in the group definitely pissed off the Matron or whichever god controls the luck of random adventurers just trying to save the world. Chetney’s money is on Ashton, personally, because Ashton is possibly the only person he’s ever met who can piss someone off that badly while also having never met them.

Chetney, on the other hand, did meet Tuyen Otwana. And, well, wasn’t it nice of her to send someone after his ass. Their interaction was fine, really! It’s not Chetney’s fault that she was overcharging like a motherfucker! He left her alive and with medical supplies. She should have just taken the hint. So really, if you think about it, none of this is Chetney’s fault at all. 

Regardless of whose fault it is, Chetney’s face is pressed into the cobblestones of another alley in Jrusar for the second time in as many days, the weight of a silver net pressing down on his back and shoulders, sizzling slightly as he attempts to cast the stupid thing off. The fucker had brought a more magical friend with him, this time, probably to avoid the immediate ass-beating that he’d received from Orym and Fearne last time. Unfortunately for him, Chetney has more friends than that, and the Hells are currently engaged in a bigass fight with his dinky little squad. 

Unfortunately for Chetney, though, that mage is causing problems. They got a lucky shot off and caught Chetney by surprise with a powerful firebolt, if he had to guess, and the other one had taken great pains to try and weaken him before netting him. With their efforts combined, Chetney is currently engaged in an internal battle as his better half fights to gain control.

Normally, Chetney would be fine with this—it’s called his better half for a reason, after all—but in his weakened state, he’s not entirely sure that he’s gonna be able to maintain the level of utmost self-control he normally exudes at all times. And he really, really doesn’t want to fuck up the Hells so soon after—after whatever had happened in Issylra had left Laudna so shaken. He saw how insistent Orym and Ashton had been about letting her unwind, how Prism (who was really very unsubtle about most things) had looked right at Laudna, worried, when detailing how she’d killed the Ruby Vanguard guy with one punch. The pieces didn’t paint a pretty picture for Chetney, and he doesn’t want to make Laudna’s jitters worse.

So he’s stuck. Staring at the ground, half-growling at nothing, trying very hard to think nonviolent thoughts while half of his brain insists very temptingly that murder is always the best solution to every problem.

He’s so focused on trying not to chew his friends’ faces off that he doesn’t notice the hunter sneaking back up to try and drag him off until his hands are already around the net, tugging and bashing Chetney’s head into the stone pavement. Chetney lets out an indignant squawk that deepens into a roar, which is very embarrassing, because he was trying not to roar, but also because he would rather not squawk like that whenever something mildly inconvenient happens.

His nose is bleeding. Dammit. That’s gonna make this a lot harder.

Chetney looks up, trying to survey the rest of the fight before he makes his next move. He catches Orym’s eye for a moment, which is very, very good—the halfling’s expression immediately shifts into one of alarm, seemingly recognizing the conflict behind Chetney’s eyes on sight.

“Fuck—Chetney needs a heal, he’s doing that thing again,” Orym cries out, motioning to the silvered heap that Chetney’s currently contained in as he speaks.

Ashton swears and motions at someone from across the street, hefting their new and improved hammer, and the familiar sound of rolling wheels on stone follows. Fresh Cut Grass rolls in, more mercurial than Chetney’s ever seen them, and manages to snatch the net from the hunter (probably because they caught him off-guard, but Chetney’s still pretty impressed).

Sparks fly as their buzzsaw hand immediately sets to work on the net. It’s not the most effective thing in the world, but Chetney appreciates it nonetheless. From behind them, Ashton comes barreling into the hunter, knocking him down to the floor.

“Letters,” Chetney grits out, “you got any juice left?”

“For healin’?” F.C.G. asks. “How much do you need?”

Chetney winces, taking stock of the situation, letting himself feel everything he’s been trying to ignore to keep the beast at bay. He gets dangerously close to a growl at one point, but he manages to tamp it down and glance back up at his little friend. “A lot, I think. Sorry.”

“No, it’s—that’s fine! It’s not like it’s your fault these people came after us.”

Chetney stays very quiet for a moment and tries his best not to look guilty. Luckily, F.C.G. is otherwise occupied.

“Here, I think—“

A strange metallic crunching sound rings out across the alley. F.C.G. winces, the plates on their body shivering, and draws a hand forward, glowing with blue arcane light. The light grows and grows, consolidating around their fingertips and the indent in their chest where the Changebringer’s face stares off into the distance serenely. Chetney cocks his head, momentarily distracted from his struggling wolven instincts by the difference in light shows. Usually, F.C.G.’s cure wounds are understated, momentary, and that crunching sound was new.

F.C.G. makes a sound like an exhale, a robotic breath, and the light surrounds Chetney’s wounds, invigorating him. He gasps slightly as the feral part of his brain soothes completely, slinking back to the corners of his subconscious where it usually waits.

“Oh, boy, that stings a little,” F.C.G. says, their voice shaking slightly. Chetney frowns—the glitching seems all too familiar after what nearly happened with those birds the other day. 

“You okay, Grass?” Ashton shouts from where he has the hunter pinned and disarmed, Orym standing at his side. Laudna and Imogen are finishing off the caster, and Fearne seems to be preparing something with Mister, probably a plan to get him out of the net like she did the last time.

“Yeah, just—just a little jittery, Ashton,” he responds, shaking his metallic fingertips. For once, he actually sounds honest, and Chetney notices the tired edge to his voice. “Needed to do something to pick Chetney up fast, and it hurt a little.”

“Well, I’m up again,” Chetney pipes up, untangling himself from the net. “And it’s a good thing, ‘cause I’m not gonna let anyone hit’cha. Can never be too careful.”

[allylikethecat]

January OTP Prompts

This one almost didn't happen because I left my home at 7am this morning and did not return until after 10pm this evening. Your girl is tired but she powered through!

Warnings: implied / referenced previous suicide attempt (implied and happened off screen - resulting in a bathroom being repainted)

12. New paint

The scent of new paint assaulted Matty’s senses, a sharp and unexpected acidic sting causing him to wrinkle his nose the second he walked through the front door. The pungent, turpentine odor tickled his sinuses, causing him to sneeze into his elbow, his eyes watering from the force. 

“Sorry,” said George, rubbing the back of his neck, he was nervous, visibly as uncomfortable as Matty felt as they tiptoed around one another. Matty wanted George to scoop him into his arms, to tell him he forgave him, to squeeze him tight and never let go. But George was looking at him like he thought if he touched Matty he would shatter. “I thought the fumes would have dispersed a little bit more by now, the painting was finished weeks ago.” 

“What painting?” Matty asked, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, and sliding off his heavy winter coat. He hung them up in the hall closet without George even having to ask, the motion managing to feel both the most natural, and the most foreign to his body. He felt like a stranger in their home, taking in the little details he hadn’t cared to notice before. The pictures of him and George hanging on the walls, the fuzzy blanket laying on the back of the couch. 

“Um,” said George, his cheeks pink and the tops of his ears burning. “I had the bathroom remodeled while you were gone.” 

Matty blinked, surprised, torn between arguing that it seemed like a decision they should have made together, and making a joke that he hadn’t been gone that long and that if George wanted new tile he didn’t need to send him away to get it. Instead Matty looked down at his feet feeling like a visitor in his own home. He should have taken his shoes off he realized, keeping them on made him feel like he already had one foot out the door. 

“Why?” he asked instead, hating himself the second the word was out of his mouth and George’s face dropped. 

“The tub was ruined,” George said, swallowing hard, “and I didn’t want to look at it anyway.”

“Oh,” said Matty, the implication of George’s words hitting him all at once. Guilt filled his chest despite the weeks of inpatient therapy. He was sick. He needed help. He had gotten it. He was doing better now. 

“But you’re back, and the bathroom is finished, and it’s a fresh start for both of us.” George said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as if he wasn’t sure how Matty was going to react. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, blurting out the words before he could think about them, before he could second guess and keep them inside. “I’m sorry that I put you through all of that.” He swallowed hard, “I’m sorry for ruining the bathroom.” 

George gave him a lopsided smile, Matty knew it was forced but appreciated the thought regardless. “Nothing, some new paint couldn’t fix.” 

Matty appreciated him lying. 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

[schittscreekdrabbleblog]

This week's word is...exciting!

Don't forget to tag @schittscreekdrabbleblog when you post! Happy creating!

Reminder: this blog will be going on hiatus May 8, 2023. Thank you all for your love and support!

I am SO SORRY, everyone, that I did not get last week's entries reblogged. I had some unexpected stuff come up last week, and time got away from me. I will work to remedy that today. Thank you for understanding!