#prompt 32

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #32

“Smile, darling. The whole world is watching.”

[my-lovely-writing]

Notes: Okay, wow, this is actually a pretty dark one for me. Please, please check the tw tags before clicking read more. But hey, at least it's not so long this time.

The villain stumbled into their office, dazedly, leaning against the wall with their hands pressed against their ears and jagged claw marks trailing crimson down their cheeks. They didn't shut the door. They were wheezing but they couldn't hear their own breaths, their mind a white cavern of nothingness for the awful, terrible voices to echo through, to rebound off of and carve through like an angry horde of gnats.

"My boyfriend hits me and I let him because I don't have the money to leave."

"If I knew I wouldn't get caught, I would hurt someone."

"I killed my dad once. He was old and suffering. The night terrors have never stopped."

"Staying alive is an act of self-sacrifice. I don't want it, not after everything."

"Someone once told me to—"

And then there were soft hands on Villain's wrists, pulling them away from their face. Hero. The villain let out a hiss, drowned out by the pure madness in their own mind, as their broken skin clung to where they kept digging in their nails in a desperate bid to somehow rip it out, to tear it away like what they done to the hero.

"Please," the villain begged. They didn't bother hiding what they felt. They licked their bloody lips. "Please, Hero, take it back."

As if their own stolen power was mocking them, Villain heard the hero's voice both inside their own head and from their mouth as they spoke:

"I only ever became a hero in the hopes that someone would take it from me, that someone would want to know things." The hero's smile had the nerve to be pitying. "All the secrets in the world are yours now." They left off the, "And you're theirs."

And then they turned and left.

[lire-casander]

#32 adopting some of their manners

adopting some of their manners original prompt list here

It's said that, the more time a person spends with their significant other, the more alike they become. Nancy hasn't really thought much of it — she's always believed that anyone close to her could have that kind of impact on her. She uses some of Tim's Maryland sayings all the time, and she's even learned to French braid her hair from Tommy. It's not something she deems important or noticeable; it's just something that ends up happening when you spend the best part of your days working closely with other people.

However, she's always thought that Carlos and TK were playing in a completely different league with the way they blended in with each other.

So, when Mateo points out that TK���s showing off more and more Carlos’ mannerisms by the day, using Spanish words in a butchered accent, Nancy can't help but remember that day at the hospital, in the waiting room, while they prayed for a miracle that perhaps wouldn't happen.

She remembers Carlos using one particular word — schmuck — that had surprised her big time since she'd never heard of it before she got to know TK. She's not particularly proud of their rocky beginnings when TK stepped in to fill Tim's boots. But she's grown to love him the way he is, with his antics and his jokes and his Jewish words that she sometimes wonders if he's made up. And Carlos had used it. He'd accused himself of being a schmuck; and while she hadn't known if the word was meant to be used like that, she'd been sure of one thing.

Carlos hadn't been an idiot for letting TK go after that big fight they'd had — that fight she'd never learned rhyme or reason to. She'd always known they'd end up together. It was crystal clear.

It was written in the stars.

She's never envied them, not even a bit. But there's one thing Nancy wishes she'd had, one day.

She'd love to reach such a level of intimacy with someone else, the way TK and Carlos have, so there's no way of telling where she ends and where the other person begins.

One day, she tells herself as she watches Mateo fix them some appetizers before a game at the loft. Soon enough.

[whumpers-monthly]

Issue no 32:

Kneeling

Isn't a kneeling whumpee nice to look at? Were they forced to their knees? Or did they collapse from exhaustion? Was it an act of surrender? Anything goes as long as their on their knees.

Tag your posts with #whumpers-monthly and #issue no 32   If you make a gifset for the prompt, please also add the tag #whumpedit  

If you already made a post that fits this prompt, reblog that post and tag @whumpers-monthly

Please add the name of the whumpee and the movie or show your content is from.

[dcscavengerhunt]

Find a hero skateboarding.

See pinned for details.

[jon-withnoh]

“I never would have thought—” Beatrice pushed her way through the ornate curtains, into those spacious rooms in the West Wing. Mrs Danvers was standing by the open window. “For weeks I don’t see you, no word, no messages and now — that poor girl. Danny, how could you?” Beatrice strode towards her, angry enough to shake her. Then she saw that Mrs Danvers’ shoulders were hunched, her hands shaking. When she turned to face Beatrice her eyes were red. Beatrice took her in, the defiant jut of her chin, months of exhaustion edged deep into her face. “Oh, come here.”

— Prompt 22: reunion hug

[f1prompts]

Charles/Max

time loop au! where Charles crashes Max and Max dies but Charles wakes up to same day everyday. He struggles to find a way to get out of this, whatever he does it ends up with Max dying even when he doesn't drive the car. but what he actually wants to stop is the way he has to see Max's motionless body taken out of the car repeatedly. That is until he has a heartfelt conversation with Max (I don't want limit the imagination but it's about their love life lol and if they kiss Charles cries) After the talk Charles gets in the car, drives his car to the wall so maybe Max would live but Max still crashes because of the debris. He stays in the car, expects the deafening sounds of a helicopter but somebody taps his helmet and asks "Charles. Charles are you okay?" When he looks up it's Max. He looks horrible with the blood dripping from the side of his face but still alive.

If you’d like to fill this prompt, click here for our Fills FAQ 💖

[thedailyvio]

Day 289 - Day 291

Prompts given:

Leopard seal teeth, cuttlefish eyes, pallid bat ears, fox legs, tentacle feet, "Proby spider things" (vinegaroon?), hammerhead shark head, carp theme, night vision power

WIP Below:

[scionshtola]

I. Where is your Warrior of Light from? What was their home like growing up and what set them out on their journey? (source)

Corisande grew up in a secluded village in the Golmore Jungle, where their mother fled with them after Garlean forces invaded Valnain. The village did not typically allow outsiders in but made an exception for them after a Wood-warder vouched for them--he'd been good friends with their father, who'd been killed by Imperials before he could flee.

They lived in a small house on the outskirts of the village, and were largely treated as strange outsiders by most (but not all!). Despite the unkind treatment Corisande received, they enjoyed growing up in a forest, surrounded by nature. Though it was a rather lonely childhood, she occupied herself with roaming the forest, gathering herbs and flowers, and teaching herself as much as she could about arcanum and summoning as well as the world outside her village, which she desperately longed to see. She was often found in the company of the pink chocobo she had rescued and the Carbuncle she'd taught herself to summon.

Despite how Corisande longed to see the world, they were reluctant to leave their mother behind knowing they would not be allowed to come back. But their mother knew Corisande could not be truly happy if they were not allowed to travel, and she asked them to leave, to see the world and pursue their studies. It took quite a bit of convincing, but eventually they left their village behind and set off for the Arcanist's Guild.

[harmlessmessages]

WARNING: SMUT

Careless by harmlessmessages. All rights reserved by the author. 

“Careless” tells the story of two strangers who meet at an open mic in Manhattan. She’s a vibrant musician determined to perform even as her body resists her every move. He’s a mysterious young man weighed down by debilitating, chronic pain and a secret as dark as the mask that hides his face. 

Through alternating perspectives, their chance encounter evolves into a night of raw connection and unguarded intimacy. As their stories intertwine, their personal struggles and unexpected likeness surface, revealing the solace and heartbreak of finding hope and relief in one another, even if for one night.

Each scene is paired with a song, making “Careless” an immersive experience where music mirrors the characters’ journeys and the poignancy of their bond.

Song: Chance, Angel Olsen

28/41  

She slowly lowered herself, finding her place on her knees, gripping his firm cock in her right hand. As her tongue reached and flattened against his tip, she heard him moan from above. It was large, just long enough, and thick enough that her fingers were unable to meet as they circled around his width. It was not impossible to fit him in her mouth, ,she knew, but she would choke on it.

The dark pink of his dick was especially flushed, ready to be sucked, ready for her. She started from his base, holding it tight with both of her hands, and traced her tongue up to its head. As he twitched, pushing against her fingers, he let out a horny, hellish groan.

“Stop.” He stroked her face, touching her cheek gently, sweetly.

She slowly leaned back, her tongue sliding up his cock, salivating on every inch of its hard, throbbing surface. Her eyes rose to meet his own far above her, pained and begging for release. Their gaze lingered for just a moment, as she pulled him out of her mouth in a final sweep, her hungering, suction puncutating his harsh, desperate breaths. 

29/41

“I have a better idea.” He grabbed her hands, pulling her up, and led her to his bed in the corner of the room. How stupid — a beautiful girl sucking his dick and he had to stop her. But he felt it coming, and not in the right way. He couldn’t stand there and pretend he hasn’t been here before. Having to stop before he could take it any further, before the pain superceded the pleasure. 

“Take off your skirt.” He commanded. 

She stood a few inches below him. Her breasts bare, her hair falling, already tussled and messy. God, how he wanted to fuck her. 

She stepped forward, reaching up to his face. He stopped her, pushing her waist back down, noting her trembles beneath him. 

She was shy. He couldn’t begin to understand why. Everything about her turned him on. The softness of her hair in his hands, the burning of her skin under his touch, her nipples hardening when he barely touched her. 

He reached his hand down, stroking her hair and tucking it behind her hear. “Take it off. All of it.” 

She nodded, keeping his eyes as she slowly pulled down her skirt, then her leggings, then her underwear, then revealing her entire form to him. Fuck me, he thought. Fuck.

He laid her on the bed and got to work. 

30/41 

She understood. He did not have to say it again. She fell onto the bed, spreading her legs wide. He kneeled on the floor, pushing her thighs further apart as he positioned himself between them. 

The softness of his tongue first met her clit, his salivia pouring into her. She reactively grabbed his hair with her right hand, her left rising to her breast, rubbing her nipple to match the wet, warm flicks of his tongue.

Fuck, when was the last time she has felt this way? Complete, buzzing, on the brink of climaxing from the moment he touched her? Even his orders that terrified her, forced her to meet her own vulnerability, aroused her, made her buckle under his weight. 

His tongue deepened into her, sliding down between the lips of her pussy, eating and easing its way inside. Her back arched, again, and again as he sucked her loudly, drenched and hot and unbearable. 

31/41

He did not stop, not when she tried to pull him up to kiss her, not when her moans, gasping breaths and and screams echoed throughout the room and down the corridor. He firmly held her in place, his left hand reaching to grab and tease her nipple, his right hand entering her with two fingers as he sucked and slobbered on her clit. 

“God.” She moaned. “Please. Please….”

He had never been more turned on in his entire life. He couldn’t wait to be inside her.

He rose up, his body on top of her, kissing her with her own cum falling from his mouth. His dick pressed against her pussy, sliding above it, her wetness making him ever harder. 

“Fuck me.” She cried. “Please fuck me.”

He did as he was told.

32/41

He fell onto her, their bodies naked and damp against each other, their lips locked and sucking, sloppy. He pulled back, heat radiating from his body, and she looked up to meet his eyes that were nearly glazed over. 

He dove back in, biting and licking her all over. His hand reached her neck, pressing into her, firmly choking her neck as she pulsated harder, squiriming in pleasure under his heavy hold. 

In one swift motion, he hooked his arm under her waist, and flipped her over onto her stomach, then pushed himself against her, his dick hard against her ass, grinding in between her thighs, careful to not yet penetrate.

“Do you want to be fucked like this?” He growled into her ear.

She moaned into the mattress, arching herself, raising her ass and parting her thighs, turning her face so that her cheek was smushed against the bedsheet. 

He grabbed her hair, pulling her back towards him. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes.” She pleaded. 

He released his grip, softly and slowly leaning down to kiss her mouth, as he spread her legs and slowly slid his hard cock deep inside her. 

His hand found hers, so that their fingers intertwined, squeezing and releasing with the same motions as his dick pounding into her soaked, tight pussy.

33/41

His cock pressed hard against the walls of her vagina, stretching her past the limits she did not know she even had. She opened her legs wider, bent herself deeper, savouring every raw, rough, railing in and out of her. With every slick entrance, she cried in pleasure. With every pull, she begged for him to be inside her once more.

Sweat covered her — not just her own, but his, as well, dripping down from his tight body, the slapping sounds of their skin ringing louder with every strike.

“Harder.” She whimpered. “Fuck me harder.”. He pulled her hair back again, forcing her to contort her back, before slamming his cock so far deep that she could feel it touch the walls of her cervix. 

“Fuck!” She cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck me. Just like that. Just like that.” Her nails dug into his palm that she still held, until his fingers reached into her mouth, forcing their way inside. She sucked on them, choking, as he quickened his motions, lengthening every pull, his mouth hovering against the back of her neck and kissing her wet, tensing back. 

She did not know how long they were there, just that she did not want it to end. Her pussy was throbbing, her clit about to burst. He breathed heavily onto her neck, wrapping his hand around it, pushing her down, going in, and out, and in, and back out again.

[lilac-hecox]

Hi! Can I have some Ianthony with 32 please? Thank you!

"I love the idea of growing old with you." -Ian/Anthony

--

“I love the idea of growing old with you,” Anthony says, his voice full of fondness as he cups Ian’s face.

The two of them are lying in Ian’s bed. It’s a quiet Sunday morning, nowhere for them to be, nothing to do except lay here together in the stillness and warmth that comes with sharing company with one another.

“Aren’t we already doing that?” Ian asks.

Anthony laughs, “Shut up,” Anthony says, “I mean, in a forever kind of way, a decrepit kind of way.”

“Like we’ll be eating applesauce with no teeth and can’t even remember our own names kind of decrepit?”

“Exactly,” Anthony says, and he shifts closer to Ian, his bare knees brushing Ian’s.

“So appealing,” Ian says, but he can’t deny the way his heart speeds up at the proposal. It isn’t anything he hasn’t heard once or twice before. Anthony has said more than a few times since they reunited, and especially since they started dating, that he would be happy to spend the rest of his life at Ian’s side, not willing to be parted from him again.

“I won’t be able to remember my own name, but I bet I’ll still remember how much I love you,” Anthony whispers before he leans in and brushes his lips against Ian’s.

“You’re so sappy,” Ian teases, but his face is hot as Anthony winds an arm around his back and pulls him close so that Ian’s head is tucked under Anthony’s chin and Anthony can bury his face in Ian’s hair. “But same…”

Anthony laughs and Ian feels the rumble of it in Anthony’s chest more than he hears it. Then Anthony’s hand is skating down the expanse of Ian’s bare back and Ian lets a shiver pass through him. He’s never been good at letting himself be vulnerable and open but he’s trying with Anthony because much like Anthony, Ian’s experienced a life without him and he doesn’t want to go back to that, not ever.

Ian sets his chin on Anthony’s pec and tilts his head up to look into his eyes as Anthony cards tattooed fingers through his hair.

“You know that I-“Ian starts.

“I know,” Anthony says, taking Ian’s face again with both hands this time, cupping his cheeks, smoothing his thumbs across Ian’s cheekbones. “I don’t doubt it.”

Ian nods, but still, he wants Anthony to know.

He rests his head over Anthony’s heart and feels the steady and stable beat of it, the sound instantly comforting for the younger man.

“I love you,” Ian says, pressing a warm kiss to the tanned and tattooed skin of Anthony’s chest.

“I love you too,” Anthony replies, his hand finding Ian’s hair to card through it again.

And soon they’ll get out of bed, and they’ll make a breakfast that is both gluten free and vegan, they’ll probably watch some shitty reality show and snuggle on the couch in pajamas, but for now, this is good. This is perfect.

[sunnylighter]

Day 23: Celestial

This came out a prettier than I expected. I'm having fun using more glitter pens this year than previous ones.

[umprompted]

#32

“We were partners in crime. I trusted you. How could you?”

“The only thing I ever learned from you was how much I had to become a hero to fix your mistakes.”

[52drabbles]

Week 32

We're kicking off August with a trope prompt - Magical AU.

Happy Drabbling!

[schittscreekdrabbleblog]

This week's word is... glitter!

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

[choicesflashfics]

Week 32 Prompts:

“I may not have meant to fall in love with you, but that doesn’t mean that I regret it one bit.” 

“Sometimes memories can be the worst form of torture.”

“Why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?”

Where the Wild Things Are - @leelee10898 (The Royal Romance)

Smoke and Mirrors - We’re Ready For Anything (Ch. 7) - @tessa-liam (The Royal Romance; Liam x F!MC)

Serendipity (Part 2) - @deb-1106 @ @walkerismychoice (The Royal Romance/Open Heart; Drake x F!MC / Bryce Lahela x F!MC)