#alt prompt: need a hand

[stardustloki]

The Unfairness of Life

Omega stared down in horror at the blood.

For that was what it was - blood. She’d seen enough of it on clothes and old bandages to be able to recognise the deep brown colour in a heartbeat, to know the crusty way it dried onto fabric.

So, she had internal bleeding. That was fine, that was manageable, they could fix this.

-

Or: Omega gets her first period, and has no idea what it is. Thankfully, Lyana is there for her.

-

Tags: Omega & Lyana, Hurt/Comfort, Omega is so unimpressed by puberty, it's gross, babies should grow in tubes, as is Right and Proper

Read it below the cut, or on ao3 here.

Omega stared down in horror at the blood.

For that was what it was - blood. She’d seen enough of it on clothes and old bandages to be able to recognise the deep brown colour in a heartbeat, to know the crusty way it dried onto fabric.

Kriff.

She forced herself to take deep, steady breaths, in the way her brothers had taught her, ignoring the way her head had started to spin.

So, she had internal bleeding. That was fine, that was manageable, they could fix this. The fact that she wasn’t in any pain yet and that the amount of blood she’d lost was small enough that it had already dried seemed to indicate that she wasn’t in any immediate danger of bleeding out. She would just need to get back to her brothers, who could run a full medical scan, and heal whatever the problem was.

This was fine.

A tentative knock came from the bathroom door before Lyana’s voice filtered through, hesitant and uncertain, “Omega, are you okay in there?”

Screwing up her eyes, she cursed internally. She couldn’t tell Lyana what was wrong, there was no way her friend would be able to deal with this without panicking. After all, she didn’t have all her experience on missions, and had thought a little cut was worth crying over a few weeks ago! No, she’d just have to deal with this by herself.

“I’m fine,” she replied, trying to keep her voice level.

“You’re a bad liar.”

Wincing, Omega did have to admit that this was true. She sighed.

“Can you get one of my brothers and AZI? I’m bleeding.”

“What kind of bleeding?” Lyana asked after a few moments’ silence, strangely calm for someone who surely must have started freaking out by now.

“The blood kind of bleeding.”

“No,” Lyana let out a sigh that sounded mildly frustrated. Omega wasn’t sure what her problem was, she was the one who’d just asked a stupid question. “Do you mean you’ve hurt yourself, or have you just started your period?”

Now it was Omega’s turn to fall silent for a few seconds as she considered this new information. 

“What’s a period?” Obviously it had something to do with blood, and was something she was meant to be aware of, maybe it would explain the situation? However, judging by Lyana’s tone of voice, a ‘period’ didn’t sound like it should be a serious thing, so maybe it wasn’t the answer to her problem - finding dried blood in your underwear due to some kind of injury inside you was clearly serious.

“...You really don’t know?”

“Should I?”

“Well…” Lyana started. “Most humans who can grow babies inside them get them. So, you know the place inside you where you can grow a baby when you’re an adult?”

Omega’s face morphed into a grimace while her friend paused, clearly trying to figure out what to say next. Sure, she knew that natborns who had the same parts as her were able to make kids inside them, but she’d never thought of herself in that way. It was disgusting. It was unnatural. Babies were meant to be made in nice sterile tubes, not squirming around inside of you. And they definitely shouldn’t be squirming around inside of her!

Then a new thought hit her, and as the full horror of it sank in, she struggled to remember how to breathe. Lyana wasn’t gonna tell her that there was a tubie inside her right now, was she? She was sure other stuff was meant to happen before that, wasn’t it? But it would explain the bleeding…

“There’s like a layer of tissue and stuff inside you, that’s meant to protect the baby,” Lyana continued while Omega wrapped her arms around her stomach, reminding herself that soldiers did not panic. “But once a month, when your body sees that there isn’t a baby inside of you, it gets rid of the layer, which comes out as blood.”

Omega put her head in her hands, trying to process this. “So,” she said slowly, “this is meant to happen once a month. ”

“Yeah, for a few days.”

But that was so inconvenient!

“Then why hasn’t it happened before?”

“It’s not meant to happen when you’re a little kid, it’s meant to start when you’re around our age.”

Omega sighed, and tried to think about this logically. Objectively, this completely sucked, especially as she was never gonna grow a tubie inside of her because a) they belonged in tubes, and b) it would make her completely useless on missions. However, it did mean she probably didn’t have some major internal bleeding problem, which was definitely a plus.

She pulled herself together, stopped staring at the brownish spots of blood, got up off the fresher, pulled her shorts up and washed her hands. When she unlocked the door she saw Lyana waiting on the other side, eyes wide with concern. 

“Are you alright?”

She thought about moaning about how kriffing unfair it was, how she bet her brothers didn’t have to deal with anything this stupid, but she stopped herself. What would be the point? Whenever she complained about anything normally they all talked about solutions like blowing things up, or putting things right, or getting back at the Empire - how was she meant to get magically a day younger and then stay like that?

She frowned. She’d talk to AZI. 

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay, I hate it too,” Lyana smiled weakly at her, “but if you need a hand with any of this, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, folding her arms, feeling embarrassed and childish. “I just think tubies belong in tubes, that’s all. Cloning is a lot less messy.”

Lyana blinked at her.

“What?”

[ailesswhumptober]

Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2024

As promised, we're bringing you the official prompt list of AI-less Whumptober 2024 today!

We have 31 days of excellent whump prompts, with three prompts per day to pick from, fun themes, and 10 alt prompts to play around with. We hope you enjoy! Additional info + plain text versions of the prompts can be found under the cut.

FAQ and Rules

What sort of content can I create for this event?

You can create whatever you want (fic, art, edits, etc). Any fandom is allowed, as well as OC stuff. NSFW is allowed, but please tag your content accordingly! The only thing not allowed is AI-generated content.

Do I need to make 31 things to participate?

Oh heavens no! You can make as much or as little content as you like, skip days when desired, or combine prompts (so for example, write something that covers a prompt from day 1, 2, AND 3). You don't have to do the days in order either, go wild! To be considered a 'completionist', you only have to make sure that at the end of the month, you've covered 31 prompts from 31 different days, but whether you do that in 31 works or just 1 is up to you.

What are these alts about?

If none of the three prompts of a particular day are your cup of tea, you can swap them out for an alt prompt of your choice.

What are these themes about?

Just a little bit of extra fun for the mods. Like last year, we'll be handing out various badges for people participating in the event. A full list can be found here, perhaps there is a special badge or two for people who can't be completionists but who do manage to finish every single day of a specific theme ;)

How do I tag and is there an AO3 collection?

It suffices to tag your work with #ailesswhumptober for us to see and reblog it! Please also tag nsfw, since we'll be using that tag too. Tagging the day is optional but does help the mods along.

There is an AO3 collection to add your fics to here.

That should be all. If you have any additional questions, check our pinned or hit us up in the ask box. Or join our discord maybe, whumping can be a great group activity!

---

Plain text versions of the prompts:

October 1 - Torture Tuesday

public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday

Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

October 3 - Trauma Thursday

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”

October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”

October 5 - Sensory Saturday

Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

October 6 - Surprise Sunday

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

October 7 - Medical Monday

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

October 8 - Torture Tuesday

Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday

Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

October 10 - Trauma Thursday

Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”

October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”

October 12 - Sensory Saturday

Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

October 13 - Surprise Sunday

Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”

October 14 - Medical Monday

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

October 15 - Torture Tuesday

Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”

October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday

Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”

October 17 - Trauma Thursday

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

October 19 - Sensory Saturday

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

October 20 - Surprise Sunday

Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

October 21 - Medical Monday

Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

October 22 - Torture Tuesday

Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.” October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

October 24 - Trauma Thursday

Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”

October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

October 26 - Sensory Saturday

Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

October 27 - Surprise Sunday

Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

October 28 - Medical Monday

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

October 29 - Torture Tuesday

Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday

Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”

October 31 - Trauma Thursday

Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Alt prompts:

1) Pistol whipped

2) Co-dependency

3) Animal bite

4) Zombies

5) White room torture

6) Shock collar

7) Pulling teeth

8) Kidnapping

9) “You always make everything worse!”

10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”

[neptunesyellowsands]

I don't know if this has been done before, but I've got a Merthur alt ending/prompt boring holes into my brain and I can't let it go. So, in DotD:

Merlin, realizing they won't make it to the lake in time, decides to try one last thing to save the king: to trade his own life for Arthur's via the power of life and death, a la Nimueh. It's a bold move, and it's unpredictable, but Merlin is both desperate and slightly ruthless when it comes to Arthur. Because he loves him.

However, since he wants to sacrifice himself, he needs a third party to work the magic. So when Morgana finds them, Merlin doesn't kill her. She's a High Priestess, like Nimueh. She could wield the magic herself. She might be the only one who can, actually, because Merlin has killed the only other two High Priestesses we know of - Nimueh and Morgause.

So he asks her to do it. He makes a convincing argument. She could be rid of him, Emrys, the bane of her existence, and they both know that he's the only thing keeping her from defeating Arthur. Once her army is rebuilt, she could return and take the kingdom for good, if she wanted. If not, she could live the rest of her life in peace, knowing she has defeated the greatest sorcerer of all time.

But Morgana is a seer. She sees that Arthur now knows about Merlin's magic and is accepting him. That Arthur is accepting Merlin, magic and all, because he loves him. That Arthur would likely, if he survived, return to Camelot and legalize magic, now that he knows. For Merlin. Because he loves him. For the first time, she looks in Arthur's eyes and believes he actually might have turned a corner, and in a wild fit of nostalgia and hope, she agrees -

But it doesn't work. The gods won't kill Emrys. It goes against the prophecy. Arthur and Merlin are to build the Golden Age together. One cannot exist without the other. They won't make the trade.

Instead, she explains, they demand something else in exchange for Arthur's life. Something that will allow them to replenish the dwindled population of magic-users without draining the earth's coffers and throwing off the balance once more. They will restore Arthur's life, but in return they will accept only one thing:

Merlin's magic.

In the end, it's not a hard decision for Merlin to make. Of course, he agrees. Of course, he would die for Arthur. He would kill for Arthur. But when he sacrifices his magic, it's something different altogether. As Morgana performs the spell, as the gods take back what they gave, as the golden magic pours out of Merlin's hands and ears and skin and trickles back into the earth to be dispersed elsewhere, Merlin gives away a part of himself he never thought could be separated. A connectivity that tied him to the ground. It's like going blind. It's like coming apart, atom by atom, and then being put back together with only half the pieces.

And Arthur watches it. He’s glad, at first. This will be easier anyway. None of them have to die today, and Arthur can keep Merlin’s secret. They can forget about the magic. They can go back to the way things were before. It might be hard, but their friendship might survive. And Arthur won’t have to protect Merlin. He’ll be safer, really.

He’ll be normal.

But then the thing happens, and Arthur watches, and he’s horrified. He's seen death. He's seen injury. But he's never seen this rending of a person from their essence, never seen the torment and pain of someone's magic being ripped from their body. He's never seen Merlin looking so gray as he does now. The golden light that he was taught to despise flickers in Merlin's eyes, like it's alive and trying to hold on, like it wants to stay, and then it's gone, and Merlin's tears aren’t rivers of gold anymore. They run tired and clear, and Merlin is a shell on the ground, fragile and hollow.

As the pain in Arthur's side begins to fade, as he takes the fullest breath he has in days and feels the vitality come back to his body, Arthur feels like he’s the monster here. Not Merlin. Not even Morgana. Him. His father. Everything he was taught to believe in.

Because he’s seen now what his father’s Purge did to his land. He’s watched Uther’s great vision for Camelot come to pass in the body of his best friend. The stripping away of magic. The destruction of this special, beautiful part of a person. 

And he’s seen what’s left. The shell. The empty gray.

Morgana disappears into a cloud of smoke. There is no place in Camelot for her now, but she has at least accomplished her goals. She's safe. She's free.

Arthur rises from the ground and picks up his sword. Merlin lies unconscious, and Arthur does the obvious: he carries him home.

Once he's back home, and Merlin is asleep in bed, and Gaius is digging out spellbooks and potions and all manner of incriminating truths, Arthur learns a few things:

Merlin is still Merlin. The magic was a tool, not his personality.

For those who possess it, magic functions like a sixth sense. Everything is learned and experienced through it, like any other sense. Everything. Moving through the world, seeing it, understanding it. 

Merlin was never actually clumsy.

Merlin was only ‘accident-prone’ because he had to suppress his magic so often. Sometimes, he played it up for his own advantage, but sometimes he just tripped because it wasn’t natural to walk around without reaching out with magic to find the floor first.

Now he has no magic.

Merlin is crippled, physically, once he wakes. He can move his body, but he can’t figure out where to put it.

He has no magic, but he is still Merlin. He’s still prone to fibbing, overwork, and sitting up late into the night to read. Still holds onto hope when he shouldn’t. Still tries and tries. And when he gives up, Arthur tells him he needs him, and he tries some more.

Because Arthur does need him. He wants to heal the rift in his land. He wants to stitch the wounds of his people put there by Uther. He never wants to see what happened to Merlin happen to anyone else. And he wants Merlin to be there, because he trusts him. Relies on him. Loves him.

Merlin has no magic, but he used to. He knows what’s needed by the people, the Druids, the land. When he drafts the documents needed to legalize magic, Arthur asks for Merlin’s help. And Merlin gives it. Of course he does. He’s still Merlin. He’s still too ready to give himself away. Still cheeky, to Arthur’s delight. 

Still wise.

Over time, Merlin learns to use utensils again. Two crutches come next, then one. Over the years, he is able to reduce it down to a staff, which he uses to find the floor. He trains a bird to go longer distances for him, across town or even just down the many flights of stairs in the castle. His mind rewires itself, relearns, but he will never have the wrist strength to buff armor again. 

Arthur wouldn’t have had him as a servant anyway. He makes him an advisor to the king, and he sits at the round table, at Arthur’s right hand. 

He sleeps, of course, in the king’s bed.

They call it the Golden Age, because all the magic Merlin poured into the earth comes back to the kingdom in waves. You can almost see it sparkling in the air sometimes, when the light hits it just right. Harvests are full and free of blight. Orchards blossom and hang heavy with fruit. More babes are born with magic in three years than have been in the last thirty. It’s Merlin, woven into every inch of the kingdom. It’s his gift to Arthur. To Camelot. To himself.

Merlin becomes a legend in his own right, known for his far-seeing eyes, his trusty staff, his surprisingly robust beard (Arthur is astonished and openly jealous). The kingdom benefits from his kindness and his ability to judge risk vs. reward. And the dragon helps, too, occasionally. 

Above all, Merlin is known for his wisdom, his council, and his unwavering love for Arthur.

Is it sad that Merlin had to give up his magic? Yes. But he never actually wanted it to begin with. Not really. Not to the extent he had it. He never wanted the burden of the prophecy. Like Arthur and his dream of relinquishing his reign and running off with Merlin to live on a farm, Merlin wanted to set aside the burden of being Emrys and return to himself. He wanted a life surrounded by love and peace. That was why he came to Camelot in the first place. He never, not once in his life, actually wanted power. He wanted the Golden Age. He wanted Arthur.

And he gets him.

[justpottytime]

Omovember approaches!

Every omo fan's favourite month is heading this way very soon - and while the official list has yet to be made, my dearest friend @littleleaks172257 (also known as @stopreportingme1722 because shadowban) and I decided to put together our own bonus list with some help from our friends in the piss Discord! You may have seen the straw poll going around a little while back? Well, these are the results:

"I have to go potty."

Put in a Diaper

In the Middle of the Night / Waking up Desperate

Training Potty

Nature Tinkle

Wetting/Peeing in a Closet

In the Sand

Missed rest stop

"Do you still need us to stop?"

In the Water

Elevator Omo

Too much Coffee

During a Walk

Overalls

On an Amusement Park Ride

While Reading a Book

"I told you not to wait that long."

On a Boat

XXL Size Cup

"No, don't ruin your new clothes!" / "No, I can't ruin my new clothes!"

"I know, but we're kinda stuck"

Trapped with a stranger

Top Bunk

"Stop using weird phrases and just tell me what's wrong!"

Omorashi Writer getting Inspiration

"I'm not peeing here, I'm not an animal!"

Stuck on a Puzzle

Toilets with Threatening Auras

Non-Human Omo

Working Customer Service

Alt prompts for switching out if any of these don't take your fancy:

Watermelons

Spilled Container / Spilled Over

Disgusting Toilets

Visually Impaired

Messy Hands

Do a few, do them all, do a mix of this list and the upcoming official list, do none and just appreciate others' work, it's all good! Also, if anyone is wondering why the first few prompts appear to be more ageplay-oriented... I may have forgotten that I have a big ABDL following and accidentally skewed the results by reblogging the poll a ton of times. Oops! Lesson learned for next year, I guess - but hey, us ageplayers are just as big a part of the community as everyone else! Anyway, I hope you guys have fun and be kind to each other, and please tag me in anything you make for the list, I'd absolutely love to see it! <3

[jasmines-library]

Survivors Guilt

WHUMPTOBER DAY 9: ALT prompt: Survivors Guilt

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Summary: When jason dies after taking your place, you experience survivor's guilt.

Word count: 1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

You should have died that day. His screams will forever be ingrained in your consciousness; whispering away in the back of your mind. Weaving their way through the cracks like a stubborn weed. You should have died that day, but Jason’s pleading to take your place was enough to satisfy the sadistic man before you. The way his eyes twinkled with a sadistic gleam made you feel sick. You have tried. Tried impossibly hard to get the Joker to leave Jason alone. Tried to tell them that you would take the torture as you were supposed to. But Jay was far too caring for his own good and his pleas to spare you amused the Joker more than you did. Your shreeks of terror and your desperate cries; the ones that ricocheted off of the walls satisfied the Joker. But they would never bring more of a grin to his face than watching the light leave Jason’s eyes. 

By the time Bruce arrived it was already too late. Jason’s heart had long stopped beating. But once they had untied you, they had to drag you away from his body to tend to your injuries. 

You didn’t sleep for weeks after that. You would often wake up in the night screaming for him. You couldn't so much as close your eyes without seeing him. It was like he was haunting you. A ghostly reminder that he died to save you. Because of you. That it should have been you. The guilt hung heavily over your head, weighing you down. And you began to change. It eventually got to the point where you practically refused to sleep. Or rather couldn’t. It was much easier to force yourself to stay awake than to Soon you became more withdrawn. You stopped making appearances at breakfast and dinner and it grew increasingly harder for anyone to find you anywhere other than inside your bedroom. Slowly, you began to lose interest in the things you were so interested in before. You didn’t have the energy to even think about doing them.

The other members of the family noticed of course. At first they had decided to give you some space, offering support when they thought you needed it. They knew they were grieving. They were grieving too. But as the weeks passed they slowly began to notice your withdrawn nature. They missed your lively presence and just seeing your face. 

Late one afternoon, there was a knock on your bedroom door. You tried to ignore it first. Hoping that you could pretend to be asleep and that whoever it was would go away. But then the knock came again followed by your name. 

You could tell that it was Dick on the other side of the door and from his tone of voice you knew he was worried. Of course he was worried. And there was just something about the way he said your name that forced you to get up out of bed and crack open the door. 

Dick seemed rather startled when you opened the door. Truthfully, he hadn't expected you to. But he wasn’t alone. Tim and Damian were with him. 

“Hey….” he said gently. “Do you mind if we come in?”

You hesitated for a moment but let them in reluctantly before shuffling onto your bed.

“Where you been, princess?” Tim asked you “We’ve not seen you. You doing okay?”

“Yeah…” you responded quietly. “Just been…….busy.”

It was a complete lie. You hadn’t been doing much of anything, you couldn’t bring yourself to. Tim frowned a little, but didn’t comment on the matter, instead he placed a hand on your knee, rubbing over the skin gently with the pad of his thumb. 

“You've been sleeping okay?” Damian asked you. The bags under your eyes were far from subtle. 

“...better.” You just answered shortly. That guilt still hung heavy above your head. 

“Good.” a sliver of a smile appeared on Dick’s face before it morphed into a sad look. “We’re worried about you, kid.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to dismiss them. 

Tim tilted his head at you. “You don’t have to keep it bottled up, sweetheart. Talk to us.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your words failed you. You were scared to open up.

Dick squeezed your hand. “It's alright. Tell us how you’re feeling. We’re listening.”

“I…..it should have been me.” Your words cut through the silence. Honest. And brutal. Raw and real. “He begged him to leave me alone. And he–”

“Shh…” Dick tried to soothe you. “It’s alright. You're okay.”

“Its not okay! he died because of me!”

Damian shook his head. “No. Don’t think like that. Jason died because the Joker is sick.”

“He took my place!” You said. You were on the verge of crying. You could feel the tears prickling at the back of your eyes. They could see the guilt you were experiencing. 

“What happened was not your fault. You hear me?”

“I should have tried harder.”

“No. No sweetheart….” Dick shushed you. “You couldn’t have done anything. The Joker had his mind made up. No one could have done anything to have stopped him. But Jay did what he did because he loved you. Not because you didn’t try hard enough to stop him.”

That was what pushed you over the edge. The tears began to flow. Dick pulled you close to his chest, wrapping you up tightly in his arms as you wept. Tim ran his fingers gently through your hair as Damian laced your fingers with his and traced gentle, soft circles on the back of your hand. 

“Shh…we’ve got you…. It's okay ....”

The three boys held you close, reassuring you and letting you cry. 

“We’re here for you sweetheart.” Tim said. “We’re always gonna be here for you.

“We’re gonna work through this together, okay? It might take us a little while but that’s okay.” Dick explained to you gently. “We’re here for you, kid. Always and forever”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

<- DAY EIGHT ⛤ DAY TEN ->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[beansprean]

its a cold day in hell and iv'e been rewatching spn

good god they're on patreon too

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: grayscale doodle dumps of early seasons supernatural. 1. Knees up of Sam, wearing jeans, a flannel, and a canvas jacket, and Dean, wearing jeans, john's leather jacket, and a crop top that says 'baby slut'. They are both holding up FBI badges. Sam looks down at Dean's shirt with a frown, prompting Dean to look up at him with a "what?" Sam replies, "I think we need to start wearing suits." 2. Shoulders up of an anonymous figure from behind looking nervously to the left at Dean, who is staring intensely at them with pursed lips. His eyelashes and lips are prominently featured to emphasize his startling prettiness, and sparkles surround his face. 3. Shoulders up of the same anonymous figure from behind, now looking nervously to the right at Sam, who has his shoulders hunched up to look smaller and is staring up at them through his bangs with big shiny pleading eyes, mouth pulled into a pout. 4. Hips up of Dean and Sam in ready positions on a black background, surrounded by sloppy white motion lines. Dean is in front, wearing john's leather jacket and holding his handgun with both hands up by his temple as he creeps forward in a slight crouch, eyes trained sharply to the right. Sam is standing up straight behind him in profile, back to an invisible wall and wearing a hoodie. He is holding up a shotgun in front of him, hand ready at the forestock, and looking cautiously in the same direction as Dean. They are both colored and shaded in pointillism style, Dean in green and Sam in red. /end ID

[avengers--assembly]

Fevered confessions

Summary: Y/n is sick and goes to Bucky’s room for some comfort

Sicktember prompts used:

1. I’m not hungover, I’m just sick”

Alts 2. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Word count: 1014

Warnings: none

●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇

Y/n stumbled down the hallway, leaning heavily against the wall in an attempt to catch her breath. Soft pants echoed around the hall as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying unsuccessfully to stop the pounding in her head.

Her muscles ached pathetically as she took another step forward, swaying slightly when she inched away from the wall. She raised her hand, missing the door by a few inches on her first try. She breathed out through her mouth in frustration, trying to focus her vision back into a single view. She touched the wood this time, knocking on the door. A voice floated towards her, meeting her in an embrace of comfort.

“Y/n?” Her name was gruff on Bucky’s lips, his voice coated in sleep. She tried smiling, opening her eyes again, the bright light digging into her vision as the rays of light shone from beneath his door. “Hi, Buck,” she murmured, aware of the ruffling of his sheets as he stood up. The door swung open to reveal his worried gaze. It swept over her, trying to locate a reason for her being there in the middle of the night.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He was worried. She hated herself in that moment for causing such emotions. He shouldn’t need to think about her. He had enough problems sleeping without her adding to his worries.

"Nothing’s wrong.” She grinned at him, a little lop-sided. Her words came out more slurred than she was hoping, and she could see the slight look of bewilderment on Bucky’s face as he gaped at her. “Are you drunk?”

"Am I drunk?” She repeated, voice edging to a whisper as her throat burned as she swallowed.

"That’s what I asked, isn’t it?” He didn’t seem irritated yet. The grin on her face grew. “’m not drunk... silly Bucky. Did I wake you up? Sorry. I didn’ mean to...” she continued, a frown filling her features now.

"It’s fine, I was awake anywa—” He trailed off, a hand going to touch her forehead. It was cold enough to make her shiver, and she didn’t seem otherwise fazed even as Bucky swore under his breath,

"Shit, you’re burning up.”

She nodded along. “I knowww,” she said in a sing-song tone. He pulled at her arm, mindful of her stumbling, before leading her to his bed. “How long? Y/n.” He tried to keep her focus on him as he watched her glazed eyes flicker over his room.

“Sorry for the mess,” he muttered, steering her until she flopped onto his mattress. She grinned up at the ceiling. “Um, maybe since today?”

"Maybe?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Definitely,” she hummed back.

“You take any medicine yet? I don’t like how high the fever is. You should have told me you were sick!”

“No medicine... and why?”

“Why? Why did you come to my room tonight? Because you know I would care!”

Y/n glanced at him as he raised his voice. “‘m sorry,” she mumbled, closing her eyes again, snuggling into the covers. She buried her face in his pillow heap. “Smells like you.”

“I mean... they are my pillows?” he replied, scratching his neck nervously. She only made a humming noise in reply. “You can’t come into my room and steal my bed, doll. You need to drink something for that fever. And water. Water is good.”

She waved him off, with a weak lift of her hand. “Stay here,” was his reply before disappearing out of the doorway in search of his mentioned objects.

****

When he finally returned, she was fast asleep, taking up most of the bed and blankets. He moved closer, shaking her shoulder. “Doll,” he said softly, ignoring her attempt to shoo him away, “you need to drink this.” He showed the pill and glass of water to her in his attempt to make her reasonable. “‘m sleeping.”

“You can sleep afterward.”

She was silent for a moment before she tried sitting up, her hands bracing against his arm as she sat up completely, making a gimme motion with her hands as she glanced at the water. He dropped the pill into her open palm and waited until she put it in her mouth before handing the water to swallow it with. Once she was done, the glass was empty, and on his table, she was again making herself comfortable.

He shifted awkwardly, taking a step backwards. “I’ll just, uh, leave you here, ok? I’ll take the couch.” He switched off the light again, bathing the room in darkness. Her face was cast in shadow as she complained.

"No,” she said, grabbing on the first thing she could get her hands on, a piece of loose fabric on his sweatpants. Bucky paused, even if he could easily move away from her grip. “stay with me. Pretty please?” She whispered.

“I don’t know, doll... are you sure?”

“Get in.”

“You want me to sleep with you? In the same bed?”

“Mmm.”

“I—uh.”

“Bucky,” she whined, and he finally caved, climbing under the covers next to her, sticking to his own side, stiff. She wasn’t going to settle for that and rolled closer, burying her face in his chest.

“Doll,” he warned, an arm wrapping around her waist anyway.

“I won’t get you sick, promise,” her voice was slightly muffled as she talked, her overly warm face obvious even through his shirt.

“That’s not something you can promise me... and not what I was worried about.”

“What then?”

“Making you uncomfortable. I’m not a good guy for you, doll. Not like this.”

“Shh. I love you, I could never be uncomfortable.” He froze slightly, swallowing heavily. “You don’t mean that, doll. Take it back. You don’t—” He trailed off. She was already gone, sleeping soundly.

Bucky smiled slowly as her soft breaths brushed against him. Her heartbeat, a comforting touch. Alive. Sleeping. He could enjoy this while it lasted. Her fever-addled brain couldn’t be trusted, but he would hold onto this moment, even if her horrified look in the morning would haunt him.

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

masterlist

requests; open / closed playlist requests; open / closed [send me a driver and prompt and i'll make a relationship playlist]

fluff [F] smut [S] smau [SMAU] angst [A] personal favorites [<3]

a shit tone of bakery requests

meet the characters; marceline 'marcy' bennett - broadway bug [charles leclerc x broadway actress girlfriend reader] phoebe windsor - hamilton - billion dollar baby [lewis hamilton x pop singer wife reader] viviana maria martinez sainz - since we were eighteen [carlos sainz jr x childhood best friend wife reader] saylor natalini - stop in the name of love [lando norris x law student girlfriend reader] kaia mayfair - die for [oscar piastri x alt singer highschool sweetheart girlfriend reader] manon anais garnier - the scent of love [arthur leclerc x baker girlfriend reader]

formula one;

charles leclerc; my own little devil; your devious little plan to make charles jealous and regret leaving you high and dry the previous night goes wrong [S]

boyfriend material; just a look at what boyfriend charles and my original character marceline will be like in my smau series; the broadway bug [SMAU + F] lewis hamilton; watch you sleep; your husband wakes you late at night after being gone for months racing, he needs you to help him sleep [S + F]

irresistible; working from home while trying to hide the fact that your married and pregnant is hard when your husband can't keep is hands to himself [S]

husband material; just a look at what husband lewis and my original character phoebe will be like in my smau series; billion dollar baby [SMAU + F]

a big old teddy bear; your husband is nothing but a big old cuddly teddy bear, *cough raccoon cough* when he's sick [F] lando norris; ~nothing yet~ oscar piastri; ~nothing yet~ carlos sainz; make me water; your older boyfriend wants to try something new [S]

we can't be friends; after one too many drinks down the hatch, you decided to shoot your shot with your best friend who you've wanted for far too long [S + F]

childhood sweetheart material; just a look at what childhood best friend to husband carlos and my original character viviana martinez will be like in my smau series; since we were eighteen [SMAU + F] [<3]

resident evil;

leon kennedy; ~nothing yet~

carlos oliveria; ~nothing yet~

chris redfield; ~nothing yet~

bridgerton;

anthony bridgerton; ~nothing yet~

benedict bridgerton; ~nothing yet~

colin bridgerton; ~nothing yet~

criminal minds;

spencer reid; ~nothing yet~

aaron hotchner; ~nothing yet~

luke alvez; would you be so kind; after a long case, the last thing you wanted was to watch the love of your life take home another girl that wasn't you [F]

a court of thorns and roses;

azriel; beautiful angel; azriel needs his sweet girl but he's exhausted and you want to help him but you've never been on top ever. [S + F]

game of thrones;

jaime lannister; ~nothing yet~

titans;

dick grayson; ~nothing yet~

[generalsmemories]

hiii for your event (CONGRATS BY THE WAY!!!) I'd like to request

"hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" with jing yuan please and thank you

Warmth of the living

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts used: "hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" || 1k event

✧ content: established relationship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for xianzhou storyline, we are still stuck in the jing yuan recovery era after phantylia fight

✧ a/n: istg if this man goes into the next patch half beat up and ready to intervene i'm actually sentencing him to a house arrest cause GODDAMN. in a way this can be seen as an alt version of my other fic 48 hours tbh. i just can't imagine any other scenario where that sentence specifically is used by itself than the recent events - so sorry for the same sorta events, i'll make sure it's the last one though!

NOT BETA-READ CAUSE I LITERALLY WROTE THIS ALL IN 30 MINUTES THE MOMENT I GOT SOME MOTIVATION FOR IT HAHA

"Lady Bailu is taking care of him as we speak, [Name]. Please excercise some patience and believe in her - she's not titled the best healer of Luofu for no reason," Fu Xuan tries to comfort as you pace back and forth at the Seat of Divine Foresight - a hand massaging her temples as she looks towards the mountains of unopened scrolls needing to be read through within the day, "... If it helps, I've also foreseen that he won't be in any immediate danger. He's fine and he's going to recover."

That diviner noticed that her assurance seemed to ease you to the point you let out a long shaky exhale before sitting down at one of the steps leading to the grand desk, combing a hand through your hair for the nth time, "You haven't rested either with helping both me and Qingzu arrange documents and various meetings with the Six Charioteers. Why don't you try to take a walk outside the Exalting Sanctum?" Fu Xuan suggests, but you merely shake your head with a chuckle.

"If I leave you'll be more overwhelmed than you already are. Qingzu is even starting to pity you, lady Fu Xuan," you start, taking a deep breath in before standing up again, "Besides, if I leave the Seat, I just know I'll go running to where he is, I don't think that would help any of us now, would it?" you say with a light-hearted chuckle.

Fu Xuan didn't comment on the fact that your voice was trembling slightly as you spoke.

You can visit the general now. Please bring me some tuskir wraps, I'm hungry.

The message was sent as you had just placed a plate of food in front of Yanqing, almost dropping the contents entirely over the table if the young lieutenant didn't notice the grip you had on it falter and catching it in time, "Woah- [Name] I was looking forward to eating your food today! What would I do if you just suddenly do something like... that..." Yanqing's words died down when he saw your widened eyes, but a quick look at the sender of the message made him let out a relived sigh, only leaning back and picking up his chopsticks, "Why not visit the general instead of staring at your screen like that? It's not like you will be able to be able to teleport yourself to his location by doing that."

Yanqing's words made you snap out of your surprise, rushing towards the entrance, "Lock up after me! And give-"

"Mimi her food, I know! Just go!"

You knew that your worry was not needed. You knew that no matter how much you worried and that no matter how many times you wished for things to go differently that day that none of it would happen, "What happens and what has happened will inevitably stay like that no matter how much you try to alter it. And if my life can ensure that the rest of Luofu can stay safe then that is ultimately the best outcome in the long run, don't you agree, dear?" is what Jing Yuan had told you after the both of you had gone through his initial plan to handle the crisis.

You knew that he was right, which was why you bit your tongue and confirmed his plan. As the general of Luofu and as an official handling the lives of the people - you both knew that his plan, although reckless would yield the best results instead of sacrificing lives where it was not needed.

You knew.

But as you stand before him in person and get a thorough look at him you can't help but wish things had gone differently that day when he came to you with a final plan - a final play.

You wished that you had let your selfish mind overtake your logical mind for a second and beg him to come up with something else. Anything that didn't involve setting himself in danger.

But you didn't, and now you're seeing the very consequences of not doing so in front of you.

His skin is paler than usual, there's bandages wrapped around his torso, his forearms and even a few of his fingers. The usual spark in his eyes are dimmed slighty. There's an air of exhaustion around him, like he's trying his best to stay awake even though he desperately wants to sleep, but his smile is still the same.

The same reassuring, convinning and gentle smile he gives you when you greet him at the Seat of Divine Foresight, when you return home after work and he's home before you and when you run into each other on the streets of Luofu. And yet you can't find yourself to smile back, your fingers tightly twisting the material of your garments while you struggle to let out a word, a sound or anything at all to even try to match his own effort to reach out to you.

But you can't, you can't bring yourself to speak, and every time you open your mouth you can only make a tiny sound that sounds like a wheeze. But before you can try to recollect yourself, your eyes widen when Jing Yuan forces himself to sit in an upright position, snapping back to reality when you hear his quiet grunt of pain.

However you're not able to tell him to lay back down again (as Bailu had instructed he does) before he grabs a hold of your hands and pulls you into his arms with quiet coos and a low chuckle, "No crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry over things like this?" he whispers, pulling slightly back to instead cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing the few tears that had managed to fall down from your eyes with a gentle gaze.

It tears you utterly apart how your wellbeing is still his priority than his own recovery.

"That... was a different... situation," you manage to squeeze out, bringing your hands up to rub the tears away yourself.

You didn't know when the tears began to form, nor when they began to fall.

"I know I'll lose you one day to the mara, as much as you're aware that you might lose me to it as well - and that's what we promised not to cry over! We never agreed to this sort of situation!" you croak out, trying your best to stop the tears from flowing. You know it's a silly comparison - Jing Yuan would much rather die out in the battlefield protecting the Luofu and the alliance than fall victim to the curse. You know, but your selfish self won't accept that outcome - even though you know such an outcome is the best for the general of Luofu.

"I agreed to this plan of yours, yes. I also agreed knowing that you're essentially putting your own life at risk yes, but still!" you sob, raising a closed fist to lightly beat down on his already battered body, "Knowing that you still came back safe just made every possible scenario of things that could go wrong and knowing they didn't and that you're here right now- scolding me of all things for crying in relief just makes this seem more surreal so you out of everyone can't fault me for actually crying because I was preparing a starskiff for the soul-soothing ceremony in the background for aeons sake," you rasp out, ending the whole rant with a saddened chuckle.

Jing Yuan merely laughs in return, one arm wrapping around your waist while his free hand pushes your head into his chest while gently patting your head, his body shaking with his soft chuckles when he feels your tears wet his garments again, "I'm fine dear, I just need to be in bedrest for a while. I'm not leaving anytime soon, so stop those tears, okay? You know I can't handle it when you cry," he whispers, bending his head down slightly to kiss the crown of your head softly.

"Just let me cry this one out, I don't think I've cried for a good couple of years," you murmur, burying yourself further into his chest, the arms you have wrapped around him squeezing a tiny bit - making Jing Yuan let out a small yelp of surprise from the force.

He's warm, you notice. His heart is beating and you can feel his chest rise up and down with every breath he takes. You can feel his fingers run through your head, you can hear the his nonchalant commets of his observations of the room in the commission amidst the otherwise silent room. And you can feel his whole body when he shuffles a bit to rest his back to the wall while he himself tries to squeeze you a bit tighter to reassure you.

Everything indicating that he's alive for another day.

And only after that do you finally feel like you can breathe again.

another request that had the same scenario in it!

[the-kr8tor]

I just saw that your requests are opennnn. Would you be so kind to write something with alt/goth/heavy lipstick wearer r kissing Hobie's face and leaving kissing marks?? Maybe Hobie kisses r back and since he's also a lipstick wearer he leaves marks on r face too! And mayyybe they're not fast enough (or they just don't care to be seen like that) and their friends are just like, damn those lovebirds

As always, only if you feel comfortable to! Or in case that you have a similar prompt I'd love to read it! Take care and drink water bb love ur brain 🖤🖤🖤

Aisbwijsjwjsjs so cute!! Thank you for requesting! 🩷

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except they're mentioned wearing makeup), lots of smooches, lovestruck Hobie, Fluff!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You're incredibly glad that Hobie made this long vanity for you and him because now you can enjoy the view of him sitting next to you while he puts on his show makeup complete with dark smudged eyeshadow and black lipstick. Your hand is paused around your own lipstick, (a deep wine shade to compliment the same colour of his guitar) eyes ogling his own expert hand as he glides the lipstick on his lips.

Hobie notices of course, he flicks his eyes over to you, mirroring your position, smiling at your lovestruck gaze. “Careful,” he rubs his thumb across your bottom lip, “you're droolin’”

You gasp, feigning offense but you don't move away from his touch even though he has smudged your own lipstick. “No I'm not.” Shaking your head, Hobie rubs the slight red tint from his thumb to his own lips. You swear your brain short circuited right there. “You…” you practically sigh the word, “smudged my lipstick.”

Hobie, being the menace that he is, hops his chair closer to you. Head on his palm, face leaning close, eyes that are illuminated by the vanity lights roam all over your pretty face that you've painstakingly made up for his show. ‘for inspiration while you're on stage,’ you said, but you'd be a distraction for him, the best kind of distraction. He can see your breath stuck in your throat. “I think I made it better actually.”

“No you didn't.”

He now has his arm looped around your waist. Metal bracelets and rings clinking against each other. “How'd you know? You haven't seen your face yet.”

You tilt your head, mimicking his position, smiling as he rubs the small of your back. “I can see myself perfectly in your eyes, Hobie.”

“Yeah, and it's a bloody good sight.” You already know what he's about to do before he even leaned close. Your hand is on his chest as he peppers your face with quick affectionate kisses, your giggles echo around the bedroom, fingers curled around his belt loops to pull him closer, making him peck you more fervently.

“We're gonna be late—!”

“I–” kiss, “don't,” he smooches the tip of your nose. “Care.” With his lips puckered over to the corner of your lips, he finishes with finesse by kissing your lips, mixing in both dark shades, a perfect combination of the two colours. “There, I never thought you'd look more gorgeous, but ‘ere we are, eh? I love that colour on you.”

You inhale for air, peripheral vision looking at the mirror, showing you your face that's covered in black kiss marks in various opacity. “I think you're right,” you nod with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “But I think we gotta match for this look to work.”

Hobie laughs wholeheartedly. “Hit me, love, make me look bloody fit.” His eyes are already closed, bracing for your kisses.

“That's impossible, you're the fittest man alive. Anymore than that you'll kill the crowd.” Your hands cradle his face, lips puckered, smooching him to hell and back.

—

Ned checks his watch for the umpteenth time, groaning impatiently at the empty space in the green room where Hobie is supposed to be already sitting with you lounging next to him.

“Where the fuck are those two?” He stomps his foot, “we need to be on stage in five!”

Yuri sighs, mindlessly playing with an imaginary drum to keep her hands occupied or she might end up eating the whole bowl of green skittles. “Don't know, let's hope they don't show up with hic—” the door creaks open. Yuri and James’ loud laugh echoes around the space. “Fucking hell! That's a lot worse than I thought!”

Ned twirls in his swivel chair, groaning, head in his hands. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you two? We're supposed to be punk!”

You grin at the band, hand holding Hobie's, squeezing him giddily. “What?” You both say simultaneously, looking oh so innocent. You look at Hobie who's covered in your kiss marks, lopsided smile on his lips, eyes shaped like hearts for you.

Hobie's heart is full at the sight of you covered in his own kiss marks, from your forehead to your neck, you're covered in it. He looks back at his band, Yuri's on the floor laughing with James who has his camera taking dozens of pictures, and Ned just shakes his head at the two of you. “C’mon now, before the crowd gets antsy, yeah?” They're gonna like his new look.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No. 26

Prompt: Venom (Alt)

Warnings: Allusions to spider bite

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

“Everything says you just need to ride it out.” You placed one book on the floor and picked up another, shining your flashlight on the pages. “It won’t kill you, but we need to keep your fever down. The meds might help with the—”

“Jesus fuck.”

You raised your light to find Daryl, leaned back against another shelf of library books, his face screwed up in pain. His hands were gripping his vest over his chest and stomach. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks flushed with fever.

“Only you would manage to get a black widow bite while putting down a walker.” You muttered, watching him with an aching heart for a moment more before turning your attention back to the pages.

“How—how long’s this gonna last?” He panted, drawing up his legs only to straighten them again, absolutely writhing in discomfort.

You winced. “Two or three days.”

“Fuck!” Daryl slammed a fist against the shelf, sending books tumbling down from above. “Can’t—”

“Ssh.” Books forgotten, you walked on your knees toward him, dragging your bag along behind you. The bite itself was on his collarbone, cleaned and left open to air. The rest of the symptoms would need to be treated as they came to the best of your ability. Thank god that Tylenol had been in the convenience store the two of you had looted. “I’ll take care of you.”

Expression pinched, Daryl watched you, his grip on the leather easing. When you offered the water and pills, he reached past them to place an overly warm hand on your cheek.

“Know ya will.”

[delta-chan]

Thoughts about Dawntrail map six

Needless to say, very heavy spoilers beneath the read more!

I was initially a bit wary of Living Memory's telegraphed "reverse Ultima Thule" structure until I got the prompt that the scenery would be irreversibly altered at the first terminal. I panicked because like a lot of people I thought "oh nice, I'll come back here later for some nice gpose shots". That this beautiful place would have to be taken away for you to progress was almost incomprehensible to me and in that moment the genius of it clicked. It wasn't just a reverse spin on Ultima Thule's structure--it was a reverse spin that was going to back it up to an extreme.

The ephemerality of life is something FFXIV has touched on many times before, including as one of the chief themes of Endwalker. But while in Endwalker this was on a grand scale as a part of radical acceptance as a whole, Dawntrail's second half explores this idea in a more focused, intimate fashion. While the WoL has no one they are close to that they can engage with in an experience with like Erenville, Krile, and Wuk Lamat--they have the environment. And being that you're the person behind the WoL with an investment in that environment on some level the finality of moving forward hits you like a sack of bricks.

I spent a lot of time being kind of awed by this--it's a very, very solid gimmick. I sort of paused at the first prompt going "haha there's no way, right…?" before going "wait" and immediately setting out to take a bunch of quick shots. That place wasn't going to exist anymore, and I wanted a memory of it. That beautiful place--a painstakingly detailed and gorgeous bit of gpose bait if I've ever seen it--wasn't going to exist if I wanted to move on. It was… weird. I took so many nearly identical shots trying to get perfect ones because there was only ever going to be that moment. In the future there'll be new game plus. You might have alts. But in that moment, experiencing it for the first time... it's… really effective. Startlingly effective.

The fact that when I was watching the map introduction and thought about how Living Memory was an almost tailor-made gposing space (and let's face it probably is for exactly this reason) that I would have a lot of fun taking screenshots at later made me think about how many other people thought, are thinking, and will think the same thing not knowing that they're taking it for granted. Who would...? It's absurd. Why would the map be altered to such a degree that it'd be rendered gone all but in name...? It hasn't happened before. So why would it happen now? Why would it even come to mind?

And the thing is--even if someone warns you, even if you're spoiled, even if you have someone fly you from place to place--the terminals are still going to have to be shut down eventually if you want to move forward. You cannot keep it. Living memory is made to be seen once then destroyed by your own hand.

I mean--at the end of the MSQ I thought, perhaps naively, that Living Memory was going to be restored because the threat was resolved. I mean--everyone's gone. There's no need for the environment to stay gone as well, right...? I mean, they put so much loving detail into it!

Wrong.

In the immediacy of when I first finished Endwalker during its early access I wrote that I never wanted to return to Ultima Thule because it creeped me out. The map was emotionally fraught, and my first experience with it was being released into an incredibly dark map with a discordant soundtrack, jumping out of my seat at another player passing by. But returning to it for hunts and the Omicron quests I saw it for the vibrant, beautiful place that it was. It changed for the better and stayed that way.

In spite of how much I've talked up Living Memory's beauty and how much it inspires the drive to capture the moment before it leaves you, it's also far more disconcerting than Ultima Thule from the very beginning in an altogether different manner. Living Memory is something that you want to be that shouldn't be. Both in the context of the MSQ and as a map in general--you want to take screenshots, you want to linger, but the unchanging weather effect and languidly pleasant music begin to push against you if you stay too long.

When everything's said and done Living Memory becomes a featureless husk that now has natural changing weather. At night there are motes of light, golden remains of the once oppressive reminiscence. And in the background as if being piped from distant speakers, the languidly pleasant and slightly warped BGM echoing through the nothingness like an amusement park's PA system playing music for no one after closing for the last time.

It's something you didn't want that needs to be.

[summer-of-bad-batch]

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2024 HAS COME TO AN END…TUNE IN NEXT YEAR FOR SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2025!!

2024 Participants, Completionists & Overachievers!

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2024: POST CREDITS (Ao3 Collection)

EVENT BADGES

PARTICIPANT FORM

☀️GENERAL INFORMATION BELOW THE CUT☀️

Bad Batch Would You Rather Game Suggestions

FREE EVENT BANNERS AND DIVIDERS

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Prompt List

***Fill prompts all summer! No deadlines! See below cut for more details 😎***

200 Followers Celebration Bonus Prompt:

Bonus Alternate Prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

300 Followers Celebration Bonus Prompt:

Bonus Alternate Prompt: Light in the Darkness

Week 1

Main Prompt: Water Gun Fight

Alt. Prompt: “It’s not what you think.”

Week 2

Main Prompt: Injured

Alt. Prompt: Comfort Zone

Week 3

Main Prompt: “It’s just a scratch.”

Alt. Prompt: “Forget I asked.”

Week 4

Main Prompt: Cadets

Alt. Prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

Week 5

Main Prompt: “You’re a bad liar.”

Alt. Prompt: “Need a hand?”

Week 6

Main Prompt: Battle Scars

Alt. Prompt: “Get out of my room!”

Week 7

Main Prompt: “Don’t avoid the question.”

Alt. Prompt: Getting a Haircut

Week 8

Main Prompt: Swimming Lessons

Alt. Prompt: Lula

Week of 9

Main Prompt: “Hold still.”

Alt. Prompt: Stargazing

Week 10

Main Prompt: Hugs

Alt. Prompt: “Just when were you planning on telling us that?”

Week 11

Main Prompt: “I didn’t think I would get this far.”

Alt. Prompt: “Yeah, kid, we’re fine.”

Week 12

Main Prompt: Nightmares

Alt. Prompt: Radio Silence

Week 13

Main Prompt: “Stop touching me!” // “I’m not touching you!”

Alt. Prompt: Crashing Hard

🥳🥳That’s the end of the Summer of Bad Batch 2024 prompt list…feel free to use all prompts and tags forever and ever🥳🥳

You can find the Ao3 collection HERE!

And I know that sometimes, it can be a pain to figure out how to add to collections (please tell me I'm not the ONLY one who has struggled with this 😭), so here's a step by step!

STEP ONE: Post a New Work OR Edit an existing work.

STEP TWO: Under the Associations category, you’ll see “Post to Collections / Challenges”

STEP THREE: Type summerofbadbatch2024 (no spaces)

STEP FOUR: This is where it gets tricky...the collection may or may not auto populate. If it doesn't, that's okay. Just leave summerofbadbatch2024 in there as is, and save the post (you can even save it as a draft and see if it worked!) It should add it to the collection even if it didn't auto populate 🤓

Q: What is Summer of Bad Batch??

A: Summer of Bad Batch is a laidback, summer prompt challenge from June 1st-August 31st. Every Sunday (12am CST), a prompt and alternative prompt will be released to inspire creativity in the Star Wars: The Bad Batch fandom! By filling prompts by August 31st, you can qualify as a:

Participant (completed 1-12 prompts)

Completionist (completed 13+ prompts)

Overachiever (completed 13 main prompts + the 13 alternative prompts)

At the end of the challenge, there will be a form for participants to fill out to let me know what category of completion they fall into. A post will be made for each category giving a shoutout and (if you’d like) a link to your Master List of completed prompt fills.

Q: What can I do to fill a prompt?

A: Anything you want! Fanfic, fan art, drabbles, doodles, cartoons, poetry...the possibilities are endless! The only real criteria is that it has to be based on Star Wars: The Bad Batch.

Q: Will you reblog prompt fills?

A: Yes! However, since I am keeping this blog PG, I will only reblog prompt fills that fit within that criteria. Basically, if it could be in the literal show itself, it could be reblogged here ☺️

(That said, I won’t reblog any clone x clone content simply because it is one of my main squicks 😅)

Also, make sure you tag your prompt fills! That's the only way I'll be able to find them in the wide world of Tumblr! So, tag your prompt fills with #summerofbadbatch2024 so I (and anyone else who is looking for Summer of Bad Batch goodness!) can find your posts!

(And everything is welcome on the Ao3 Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Collection — so make sure to add to it if you’re on Ao3!)

Q: When will prompts be released?

A: Every Sunday (with the exception of Week 1, which will have a special release date of Saturday, June 1st) at 12am CST.

Q: What if I don’t understand a prompt?

A: Send me a message or an ask! I’d be happy to help!

Q: What if I don’t like the weekly prompt?

A: Every week will have an alternate prompt available! And alternate prompts can be swapped out for any main prompt, regardless of which week!

Q: Where can I post my prompt fills?

A: Anywhere you'd like! Personally, I'm only on Ao3 and Tumblr...but I know that this fandom is literally all over the internet, so wherever you feel comfortable posting, do it!!

Q: What if I don't finish filling the prompt within the week?

A: One of my favorite parts of this prompt challenge is that there are no deadlines! If you want to be a Completionist or an Overachiever, you just have to have the prompts complete by August 31st!

Finished week 2 during week 5? Great!

Finished weeks 1-13 during week 13?? 😅 That works!

Q: Do I have to post/publish my prompt fills to be considered a participant/completionist/overachiever?

A: Nope! I know not to everyone feels comfortable sharing their work, and that’s totally fine!

You don’t have to post/publish a single thing to qualify. At the end of the challenge, I’ll link a form for anyone who participated to fill out. This is all based on the honor system…so if you say you completed “such and such”…I’ll take your word for it 😊 If you want, you can still be given a shout out for whatever level of participation you said you completed. Just let me know!

Q: Can I combine prompts?

A: Yes! Mash up those prompts and make a custom, super prompt if your heart so desires!

Q: But can I combine prompts with other challenges?

A: Absolutely! If the other challenge allows it, feel free to combine Summer of Bad Batch as you see fit ✨

Q: Can I apply prompts to works I've already completed/posted?

A: Prompts should not be applied to already completed works.

But if you have a WIP that's been gathering dust that would fit the occasion, that would be fine!

Have a story that you're adding chapters to? You can apply prompts to new chapters! That's fine too!

Q: Will there be a complete prompt list available?

A: Not until after the event, since prompts will be posted weekly 😘

Q: Can I use the prompts even after the event has ended?

A: Absolutely!

You didn’t find your question here?? Send me an ask, I’d be happy to help!

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 14

@flufftober

Prompt: Mundane AU

Alt Title: One Piece at A Time

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean Winchester x f!Reader

Tags/warnings: Dean being Dean tbh (big ol' warning there), FLUFF, meetcute (I really like these apparently ahaha), Dean is a Mechanic, Sammy Stayed in law school :), John is still dead (I still hate him), Reader knows nothing about cars, 2nd person (female  Reader – use of "lady" once), tattooed! Dean, this is 10000% a grumpy x sunshine now that I think about it

Summary: You have car trouble and head to the nearest mechanic, Singer & Son, where your grumpy mechanic gives you an earful for not taking care of your car.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: I may or may not have scared my own mechanic with these things. Mechanics fear me. And if you know Johnny Cash, you'll recognise the title of this piece! Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Nothing in particular made you choose Singer & Son Garage as your new mechanic of choice. Reviews were good and it was near your house; you were sold. When you had left your car with the wizened Bobby singer, he had told you that your car should be ready in two days.

That was four days ago.

It was only supposed to be an annual check-up, ensuring everything was in working order. Which it was - when you'd left it at the garage. It drove nicely from point A to B, other than the strange rattling that had started a month ago (or the weird noise when you'd use the wipers). So, when you rang the garage on the afternoon on the 4th day, you certainly weren't expecting to get gruff, clearly annoyed answers from one of the mechanics.

"So... is the car okay?" You asked nervously, beginning to worry about the cost to fix or if there was a scam taking place.

“Yeah. You could say that. “ There’s a scoff and you can practically  see the eyeroll on the faceless person on the other end of the line.

"Uh... Okay? When can I pick it up? " You frown into the phone, unsure what he meant but bit back an indignant huff.

There's a pause. “This evening, if you want I guess. Look lady - I don't know what you did to this car but there's a lot of work that needs to be done. " The voice's annoyance seems to grow but you can't fathom why. “You’ll need to come down so we can discuss what needs done and book it all in.”

Your frown deepens. You weren't well-versed in cars and you were so far out of your depth you weren't sure if you were being ripped off.

"Uh. sure. Just give me a time."

“16:45 work?"

You check your work calendar. "Yeah. "

There's a grunt of approval. "Alright. See you then. "

 The phone clicks off and you're left staring at your phone in disbelief. You even blink a few times at the black screen of your phone. What crawled up his ass and died? The car was okay - that's all that mattered.

You sigh, mentally preparing for your bank account to break.

At 16:40 you wander into the garage, poking your head into the small office. Bobby Singer looks the exact same as he did four days ago, just in a different colour plaid. He's still tired-eyed with a phone pressed to his ear, hidden behind a mountain of paperwork. You give him a small wave and a smile when he glanced at the doorway.

He put his hand over the phone and waved you in. "Hey, again. Here for your car?"

You nod and wring your hands awkwardly. You feel like you're in the principal's office about to get an earful. Bobby gives you a short smile before speaking into an intercom.

"Dean, customer here to collect."

Silence.

“Dean,” He says a little louder. “Customer here to collect."

More silence.

You look around the office sheepishly when Bobby sighs.

"Sorry Sammy, your brother's not answering. Give me a sec,” He says gently into the phone before yelling into the intercom. "DEAN!"

His sudden yell made you jump half an inch into the air and he shot you an apologetic smile. Whoever Sammy is, he must be saying something to Bobby because he huffs into the phone. "He's playing his damn music to loud. Again.”

There's a clang of metal and the gruff voice from earlier calls out from behind you, causing you to turn. “Yeah?"

Stood leaning against the door is probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. He's wearing a white tank although you're not sure why; he's covered in grease and oil head to toe looking like a dishevelled dalmatian. His strong, tanned arms are littered with tattoos and your eyes trail to his ringed hands that are wiping a wrench clean with a dirty rag, that he then tucks into dirty blue overalls that have the arms tied at his waist.

Bobby nods in your direction and in a sarcastic tone says, "Customer."

Dean’s  green eyes cast a glance at you quizzically like he'd forgotten you were coming. Then he looks like he's about to roll them as he realises who you are. “Follow me.”

Dean leads you out back, where ACDC is playing from an old, beat-up greasy radio. You try not to stare, occupying your mind instead with trying to spot your car. It's like a car graveyard; tens if not hundreds of cars in various states of repair are scattered around the lot.

Your nervousness grows the more you walk until you see your car. Or more accurately, what's left of it. It's on a jack and one of the wheels is on the floor. It looks okay, all things considered. You guess that Dean must have been messing with you.

"It's fine!" You say, relieved. Dean shoots you a glare.

"It's not fine." He grunts. "Your suspension is rusted on the front and back, two of your tyre treads are below legal limit, one of your reverse lights is out and the rubber on your windscreen wipers is missing."

You stare blankly at him. "Meaning..."

"Meaning," Dean continues. "Your car should not be on the road."

"Ah," You say, dumbfounded. It was working four days ago just fine, and you tell Dean as much. He just scoffs.

"I don't know how that car did not blow up on you." He crosses his arms across his chest. "There's a lot of work that needs done."

Now your nerves were waking up again and spinning into a frenzy. "H-How much are we talking?"

Dean scratches the back of his head and heaves a sigh, looking thoughtfully at the skeleton of your car. "Maybe a grand. Could be more, depending on parts."

You almost swoon at the price. It was cheaper than buying a new car but that was the kind of money you did not have at hand. "Could I just get.. five hundred dollars worth of repairs?"

You look hopefully at Dean who frowns and then sighs. "Some of the repairs are a quick fix. If you're willing - I could show you how to fix 'em. That'll knock down the price."

You're so happy you could cry. "Thank you so much. That - That's really kind." You give Dean a grateful smile but he turns his head away from you quickly, clearing his throat.

"We'll get it done one piece at a time." He reassures you, voice slightly less grumpy. Only slightly.

"So... can I take it home?" You ask curiously, bouncing your foot on a tyre.

"No, I can't let you leave in it because it will fall apart." Dean huffs. "Sorry, but you'll be without the car if we're doing it bit by bit."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." He huffs, scowling at you.

Walking everywhere would be good for you. It was better than being down a whole grand.

"Look, I can drop you home since you came all the way here. I needed you to see what you'd done to the poor thing." Dean starts to walk back towards Bobby's office, you following his lead.

"I can walk." You insist, eager to not piss Dean off anymore than he already seems to be with you. "It's not far I swear."

Dean still huffs. "No, I'll drive you. Bobby'd kill me if he knew I let you walk home in the dark anyway."

You open your mouth to argue, but he gives you a steely look that tells you he isn't up for debating you; it's happening whether you like it or not. You smile awkwardly and mumble your thanks, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as Dean grabs a set of keys.

"C'mon, we'll take Baby."

You're brows furrow slightly, unsure whom he's calling baby, but teeter behind him.

Baby, as it happened, was a car.

You pull a face but as you drift by the sleek black exterior and peer at the black leather seats, drawing a short breath of awe.

Baby looked sexy.

You can't ever recall thinking a car looked sexy, but Baby was. Especially with Dean in the driver's seat. You slide into the passenger side and close the door with care, terrified to be too rough. Baby smells like car oil and pine and unlike Dean she is pristine. You buckle up and place your hands awkwardly in your lap as Dean turns the key. Baby's engine doesn't roar to life like your hunk of junk - she purrs - setting a steady rumble as Dean's strong arm reaches behind you so he can reverse out of the parking space carefully.

"Do you mind if I...?" Dean points at the car radio once on a short stretch of road and you shrug.

"Go ahead."

Dean turns the dial and Led Zepplin fades in through the speakers. You tap your foot along to the beat, you don't know the song but you do recognise it. After a few moments, you can hear Dean humming along to the lyrics, checking his mirrors at a junction and you bite back a smile. When he wasn't being such a grump, he was actually kind of cute.

The car ride was mostly silent until you got to a busy stretch of road and some asshole just had to dangerously cut up Baby, narrowly missing the car by a few centimetres had Dean not swerved. However, as Dean swerved, you'd slid down the seat and knocked into his shoulder with a squeak of surprise.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yells at the driver, laying on the horn. He looks down at you worried. "You okay?"

You blink up at him, wide-eyed with slightly dishevelled hair. Your heart is racing fast from the near-miss but when your eyes lock with his, heat rushes to your cheeks and you can't seem to sit up fast enough.

"S-sorry. I'm alright." You clear your throat and give him a sheepish smile but he bursts into laughter. "What?"

Dean points at his cheek, snickering. "You have some oil on your face."

"I do?" You pull down the mirror and inspect your face and sure enough, there's a big black smudge on your cheek. The oil from Dean's clothes must have rubbed off when you knocked into him. "Oh, Goddammit." You rub at the smudge, only making it worse.

"Hey, stop that." Dean tuts, glancing back over at you from the road. "Dish soap and water'll make that come right off."

"Oh - thanks. Ah! This street right up ahead. That's me."

Dean grunts and nods, turning into your street gliding up to the curb outside your house. The engine cuts out and on autopilot you unbuckle yourself. Dean watches quietly but doesn't say anything.

"Thanks again," You say, hand on the door handle and flashing Dean a smile. "I don't know how I could repay you for my car."

His cheeks flush pink. Usually, this was where he'd flirt shamelessly, but something about you had his chest feeling tight and his stomach rolling. He finds himself thinking about how you were looking up at him when you'd knocked into him and how his heart fluttered. How he'd willingly offered his unpaid services to fix your car (even if you were supposed to help). How he'd nonchalantly decided to drive you home in Baby of all the cars on the lot. Dean swallows thickly.

"Maybe... dinner?"

"Dinner?" Your eyebrows fly up and you stop opening the passenger door. You falter for a moment before smiling at him, blush back in full force. "Uh, yeah, sure. I'd like dinner."

Dean's hands grip the steering wheel tightly, turning his knuckles white. He nods and struggles to find his voice for a moment.

"When's good?"

"Tonight's good. Or Friday." You say watching him with a small smile. He looks like he's not used to asking someone out on a real date. You decide to help him out a bit. "There's a really good burger joint on Winston Street. We could go there."

Dean’s eyes glitter when he looks over at you, breaking into a grin. "You mean Diego's?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Best burgers I've ever had." You tilt your head slightly at him. "You been before? We could go somewhere-"

"It's my favourite." Dean interrupts. "I'd love to take you there."

Your heart thunders and you nod, beaming at him. "Alright then, it's a date."

"It's a date." He says, a smirk twitching on his lips.

Once you and Dean have said your goodbyes and you're safely tucked against the wood of your front door you slump against it sighing dreamily. Friday couldn't come quick enough.

[loveuary]

.・。.・゜♡・Loveuary .・♡・゜・。.

A month long art “challenge” for February (2025)

Inspired by Valentine's Day, but make no mistake, these prompts are for love of any kind – romantic, platonic, familial, etc.

~ Open to art of any medium, be it writing, drawing, or whatever you like.

~ The days don't have to be done in order, nor does the month need fully completed, this is just a calendar page of prompts for anyone who might enjoy something like this!

~ The only "rule" is to keep things sfw please! Though I suppose mildly suggestive is fine, as long as it's not explicit

~ Please tag things with “loveuary” and whichever prompt the post is for (and you're welcome to @ me too!) If anyone actually participates, I'd love to see <3

~ I’ll try to reblog things, too, so if anyone would like to request something specific be tagged beyond which prompt and fandom (when applicable), let me know!

Plain text prompt list under the cut + 10 alternative prompts ♡

1. Keeping Company

2. Opposites

3. Meant to Be

4. Sweets

5. Vulnerability

6. First Meeting(s)

7. Reconnecting

8. Shared Interests

9. Celebration

10. Toys & Games

11. Matching Outfits

12. Recovering

13. Forever

14. Cooking Together

15. Comfort

16. Dedication

17. Perfect Gift

18. Cuddles

19. Adventure

20. Sharing Secrets

21. Favorite Place(s)

22. Protective

23. Making Up

24. Fond Memory

25. Lost & Found

26. Coming Home

27. Overcoming Fear(s)

28. True Love

Alt options

Swapping clothes

Traveling

Kids

Safety

Working Together

Birthday(s)

Favorite Weather

Support

Reunited

Hand Holding

[kairiscorner]

Reader being Miguel’s hot wife no one knows about until he has to call her for an emergency in front of everyone she saves the day gives him a kiss and tells him what’s for dinner ( make it spicy pls babes )

HCIREBCIBCIRBIRBOCBOCBIRCB YES PLEASEEEEE if y'all want nsfw content of miggy and you as his hot wife, just hmu on my alt @reinasei

the elusive mrs. o'hara. – miguel o'hara x wife!fem!reader

"miguel, just make the damn call already!" jess' angry and commanding voiced echoed throughout the banged-up warehouse as she tried reeling the gigantic anomaly in with heavy grunts and groans as her webbing was coming undone due to the anomaly resisting her grasp. miguel groaned as the anomaly threw him against a wall and made the whole place shake. "no! she's... she can't make it!" "whaddya mean 'she can't make it'? she's the fastest one out of all of us! i'm sure she'll make time if– OH GOD, LOOK OUT!" peter b exclaimed and rambled on as the anomaly picked up a large storage container and threw it at peter b and miguel's direction.

jess nearly got flung off when the anomaly threw the storage container, but she and the two other spider men with her were safely roped back to safety outside of the warehouse. "finally, reinforcements." jess said with a sigh as she glared at miguel for delaying to call you when they needed help the most at that moment. you swung around and remained suspended upside down, clinging on to your web for support. "hi lovelies." you greeted them with a smile, which curved even more upwards as your gaze landed on miguel. miguel noticed you were gazing at him, which prompted him to look away and try covering up the shyness he was experiencing right then and there. you giggled as miguel looked away, and before jess or peter b could warn you, you swung yourself over to the anomaly and skillfully beat it down; with the grace of a flexible acrobat and the strength of a hundred soldiers, you managed to beat the anomaly down on your own. they were all taken aback at how great you handled this on your own, but miguel couldn't sit still–he swung himself back into action and tried distracting the anomaly for you, but you caught him in the act and webbed him up by peter b and jess' side.

peter b and jess praised you and thanked you for your help, with miguel sighing all muffled-like as you sauntered over to take the webbing off his mouth. you giggled and wrapped your arms around the big man's shoulders and ran the tips of your fingers over the backs of his shoulder joints and muscles, making him shudder and give small, low groans in response. "you... could've gotten hurt..." he tried to say, but you cut him off as you pressed your supple lips against him, catching him and peter and jess by surprise. jess covered peter b's eyes as his jaw nearly hit the ground, with her looking absolutely unfazed that miguel was being charmed by you, one of the most stunning spider women she has ever worked with. you pulled away from miguel and whispered in his ear the dinner you were going to cook for the two of you tonight. "it's so much fun saving you, love; being your wife is a dream, an exhilarating one." you murmured as you winked at him and kissed the tip of his nose—shutting him up effectively as you practically took his breath away yet again.

"b-be safe..." miguel whispered as you took the webs off him and giggled again, with jess hauling the astonished peter b murmuring under his breath all sorts of questions he was planning on asking you two the minute you all got back to HQ. "oh, i definitely will, mig—especially now that i'm in your hands." you said in a soft, teasing voice as you pressed yourself against his chest and lightly kissed it; sending shocks up his spine and making him release a low groan that meant he needed to be alone with you right now.

"are you two gonna keep flaunting the fact you two are married or are we gonna haul this guy back to their home dimension?" jess asked as a bunch of reinforcement spider people began containing the anomaly and carting it away. miguel nodded and agreed with jess, but he lost his train of thought when he felt his cute little wife's hand in his own all over again. jess chuckled as she sent peter b back to HQ. "alright, see you lovebirds back in there." she bid you two goodbye as you kissed miguel's cheek and murmured, "nobody else is here to bother us now then, miggy..." miguel sighed and picked you up from the thighs and carried you off with him. "we can do everything you wanna do together back at home, nena... i'll give you all the fun you want, mi vida." he whispered back to you as he carried you into the portal, with you complimenting miguel's strong arms as he carried you, squeezing your thighs all the while to tease you and make you giggle as he did.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce