#prompt: sloth

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Seven Deadly Sins pop-up event.

Not Just Sundays

Prompt: Sloth | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Steddie | Tags: Corroded Coffin Trying to Make it On the Road, Steve Back Home in Hawkins, Failing at Managing the Distance, Good Uncle Wayne, A Touch of Angst w/a Happy Ending

Another night, another show, and another missed phone call that he promised he'd make over a week ago. Fuck. Time is just slipping away from him. From the studio to gigs to party after party. They've really got a good thing going, and slowing down right now just isn't an option. Once the ball is rolling, you gotta keep it going. Steve will understand. Steve always understands.

He's good like that.

Eddie knows Steve wants the band to make it. Succeed. Even if that means Steve's been getting a smaller slice of Eddie's attention right now. It won't always be like this, Eddie's sure, so for right now he's gonna strike while the iron is hot.

He'll call Steve tomorrow. For sure.

A week later, there's a note waiting at the front desk of the next hotel. An order to call home. Eddie looks at his watch, but doesn't really have time to call Wayne right now. 

"Make time," Jeff says, as if Eddie had said that out loud for everyone to hear. He didn't, he doesn't think, Jeff just knows him that well.

"Fine," Eddie says, and drags his ass off to one of the phone booths in the lobby. It's cheaper than using the room phone, he's sure.

Wayne picks up after three rings.

"I had a boy here last night, pretty upset after not hearing from you in sixteen days," Wayne drawls by way of greeting. It's a condemnation, and Eddie feels it. If he hasn't talked to Steve in sixteen days, he doesn't even know how long it's been since he's called Wayne. 

Longer. Much longer.

"Shit," Eddie says.

"I'd say," Wayne answers.

"I'm just busy," Eddie says, and he knows it's an excuse. He could make time, he just hasn't prioritized it. Like getting out of Hawkins just spread his wings a little too far.

Wayne sighs. 

"What will it profit anyone, if they were to gain the whole world, but lose their own soul?” Wayne quotes, and Eddie leans his head against the glass.

"Are you proselytizing to me again, old man?" Wayne grew up with religion in a way that Eddie did not, and therefore can pull verses and lessons out of his coveralls pocket at any time. It's annoying.

Wayne sighs, "No. I'm not. Not really. But what good will it be to you, boy, if you make it to the top, and then take a look around, only to realize you're all by yourself?"

He's not all by himself. He's got Gareth and Jeff and Goodie. 

But he knows what Wayne means. Will the fame be worth it, if he loses Steve in the process? No. No way, and he knows that. He does. It's just been hard to juggle both right now.

"I'll call him," Eddie promises.

"It's not that," Wayne says, as if that wasn't the reason for his whole call.

"It's not?"

"Think long and hard, Ed. If you don't have space for him right now, if you don't want to make space, it's okay."

And Eddie starts to argue.

"Eddie. It's okay. But don't string him along while he waits back home. It's not right."

"What do you-"

"Shit or get off the pot, kid."

And Eddie laughs. They've moved from a sermon to Midwestern idioms. Great.

But he knows Wayne is right. 

Goddammit.

He calls Steve next, and he's not home. Which, that serves Eddie right. He doesn't leave a message, feels that's too easy. Steve will hear it, forgive him, and Eddie thinks he deserves to get a little bit of his anger. A little bit of his hurt.

They have a four-night break. He could run home. It's not that far. See Steve. See Wayne. Put out the fires he's caused.

Yeah. He's doing that.

Eddie throws some clothes in his duffle, as the other three watch him pack.

"And you'll be back by Thursday?" Jeff asks, and Eddie swears he will be. He knows the schedule. 

"Okay then," Jeff says, tossing the keys onto the bedspread, "go apologize."

Eddie will grovel, will beg if that's what it takes.

It was a long drive to think. The house is dark. He pulls out his keys and lets himself inside. It's kind of a mess, which is so unlike Steve. There are dishes piled into one side of the sink, and laundry sitting in baskets waiting to be folded.

Maybe he's just been busy at work. Picking up extra shifts or something.

Eddie dumps his bag in the bedroom, and no Steve there either. 

He needs something to do to keep his idle hands busy, and he starts the dishes. Folds the laundry, then moves on to running the sweeper. 

It's after ten, and still no Steve. Maybe he's staying at Robin's. It's too late to call her, she'll either be pissed or worried about where Steve is, so Eddie can't do anything except wait and worry that maybe he's too late.

Then a key's sliding into the lock, jiggling the handle, door swinging open, just before eleven. Eddie's been sitting on the couch in the dark.

And he doesn't mean to, but he scares the shit out of Steve.

"Jesus Christ, fucking hell," Steve snaps, clutching his hand to his chest like he's decades older than his years. Like he's terrified.

Well, that's probably fair. He spent his teenage years being chased by monsters.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just me," Eddie reassures, holding out his hands as if to prove that he's harmless.

He's not harmless.

He's hurt Steve, and that's a bitter fucking pill to swallow.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks as he takes a couple big steps forward, barreling into Eddie's chest. He smells like sweat and, well, Steve. 

Eddie hugs him back, but feels like shit that Steve has so easily opened his arms, and heart, after Eddie's been so careless with him.

"Everything okay?" Steve asks, face presses into Eddie's neck.

"Yes, yes, I just missed you and I've been pretty shitty about showing that," Eddie explains, hugging him as tight as he can.

"Missed you, too," Steve says, "I'm glad you're home."

Eddie wants to know where he was, wants to know how he's passing the time. But isn't sure if he should barrel in and start demanding to know things. He's the one that hasn't been around, hasn't been reaching out, he probably doesn't get to start grilling Steve.

"I probably stink," Steve says, trying to take a step back, but Eddie won't allow it and just hugs him tighter.

"Love it, wouldn't change a thing," Eddie teases and Steve laughs, his voice rumbling against Eddie's chest.

He really wouldn't change a thing.

"Sunday night basketball," Steve offers, as if that's an explanation. 

"Yes, of course, that," Eddie says, teasing him a little more, and Steve giggles, pressing his lips to Eddie's neck.

"Mr. Clarke unlocks the gym. And the dads and old men in town get together and play basketball at the gym," Steve says, fingers digging into Steve's back.

Eddie laughs, "Mr. Clarke plays basketball?"

"Not well," Steve admits, biting him, just a gentle nip, and fuck Eddie's missed him. "But good isn't a requirement. Just gotta be outta high school and willing to show up."

Eddie should know this. Should know what Steve does every night, not just Sundays. 

"I'm sorry I've been scarce," Eddie apologizes, "I've been an asshole."

"You've been busy," Steve counters, "but I wouldn't mind hearing from you more often. Even if it's just for a few minutes."

"I'll do better," Eddie promises, and hopes that's true. Steve deserves for him to do better. Eddie wants to do better for him, for them, for their whole future, for their present.

Where he's a touring musician, for real, and Steve is playing basketball with Mr. Clarke for fun.

Eddie wants it all with Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Sloth was interesting to approach! Of course, at first I was like, sloth = lazy. Then I read this:

"Sloth becomes a sin when it slows down and even brings to a halt the energy we must expend in using the means to salvation."

Obviously, I'm twisting the religious take here, but Steve's his salvation, and he can't neglect expending his energy to love him.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 270

Wing Au? Wing Au. 

But see, ecto-contamination has an effect on those of Amity Park, even more so after their temporary stint into the Zone itself. They were there for hours, if not more, that has an effect on things. It’s like suddenly being transported in the middle of the sight of a nuke, there’s no way you aren’t getting irradiated. 

So their wings might start to… mutate a bit. Just shift and adjust here and there, grow bigger than how they should, with how flight had been lost so long ago. Some now covered in a waxy sheen, others bioluminescent, more with flickers of scales like moths. Others even further changed, the tops opening into maws, eyes blinking amidst feathers, leaves growing from bone like it’s a branch. 

And the Outside remains oblivious beyond the shields, unaware of the rising anger behind it as instincts of predators are returned and brought anew. Where the dead and the living meld into something new. Something Other to what they once were. 

And the GIW are starting to become concerned with how the things inside are searching for a way out. It… might be time to ask for assistance. 

[kinardsevan]

2 + 49 for the numbers prompt

“This was a mistake,” Tommy mutters as Evan moves off of the couch, searching for his pants on the floor. The younger man whips his head up at his words and narrows his gaze at his ex, ire set into his expression. 

“Oh like that’s shocking,” he hisses as he finds his pants. “You need the god damn cover of nightfall to even call me and fuck.” 

Tommy gulps but doesn’t respond. Evan isn’t wrong. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” Tommy rasps after a moment when he stands. he pulls his pants back up and buttons them, looking around his living room for his own shirt. 

“That’s so fucking convenient for you to say, isn’t it,” Evan growls, stepping into his jeans. He looks over at the other man. “It’s a mistake. We can’t keep doing it. You’re weak and you just, what? Need me?” 

Tommy forces down a breath, keeping his mouth shut still. 

“But apparently not enough to fuck me for the rest of my life,” the younger man grumbles softly. “No, apparently I’m not good enough for that. Just one night stands now.” 

“Hey!” Tommy grips his forearm tightly as he spins Evan around, his face red and his jaw tight. It’s taking everything in him not to let the tears that desperately want to come to actually fall. 

“What,” Evan taunts, anger still laced through his tone. “You said you couldn’t be my last, but you clearly have no problem letting me think I’m good enough to fuck. So is that what it was the entire time, Tommy? I was a good place to put your dick? Work out the baby bisexual while I made you my god-damn human diary? Because you have all my secrets now and-…” His voice chokes off as his own emotions threaten to take over, rage ebbing off of him like steam after a hot shower. 

“Walking away from you is the hardest thing I have ever done,” Tommy rasps at him. “You think I thought you were just a good lay? You’re the whole goddamn package, and I knew I was blowing my entire life up the first time I kissed you, because you were never going to pick me. Not in the end, Evan. No one does that.” 

A small amount of the anger coming off of Evan seeps out of his expression, but Tommy shakes his head, glancing up at the ceiling to keep his emotions reigned in as best he can. Tears are swimming in his vision, and it’s all he can do to keep them from actually falling. 

“You think you know what you want, but six months from now-..” 

“I’m so in love with you that I went to bed thinking about what we’d name the kids every night,” Evan cuts him off. “Thought about what color we’d paint the nursery. If we’d have a two-stall garage or if that would even be big enough for the car lift and the muay thai setup. You think I was being hasty? I was bursting to keep it all inside, Tommy. A-and you think it was just bisexual haze? I never thought about all of that with anybody else. Not Abby, not Ali, not Taylor.” 

Tommy stares at him as Evan goes off, feeling stripped by his statements. He’s heard exes talk about feeling that way when they inevitably found the next person after him time and time again, but he’s never so much as gotten an inkling of it from anyone after Abby, and with her, it was never actually going to happen. 

“You say no one picks you, but I was fucking trying,” Evan tells him. “Not for five seconds, or a year, or two. For the rest of my fucking life. But apparently, that’s too hard for you.” 

Tommy’s breath is shallow as he steps forward, his free hand wrapping around the back of Evan’s head as leans his forehead against the younger man’s. 

“Loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Evan,” he whispers, his eyes closed as the tears finally fall. “It’s the losing you part of it that would kill me. When I said I couldn’t deal…” He leans back slightly, his fingers wrapped around Evan’s jaw to push him back a few inches, although he doesn’t remove his hand. His gaze runs over Evan’s face and chest and back up. “It ends at you. There’s nobody after you. I don’t move on from here. I was just trying to find a way to make it out alive.” 

Evan lifts his hand up to where Tommy’s is still on his face. 

“Then meet me in the middle, and believe me when I tell you there’s never going to be anyone else,” he rasps. “And let me love you anyway.” 

[yogirt-x-satan-prompts]

Yogirt Headcanon Incoming:

I find it very interesting that Yogirt looks like a mix of an imp (from Wrath) (edit: a succubus (from Lust)) and/or a candle headed demon (from Sloth). Maybe the candle just means you're able to give medical aid in Hell, maybe he's fully a demon from either Wrath or Sloth? I'm not sure what the canon is.

But if it's true, I'd be super interested to learn more about his parents and upbringing as a mixed demon if it was!

Are there a lot of mixed demons in Hell?

Is it seen as a special rarity or a bad thing to be mixed?

I wonder if he grew up where one of his parents were born or somewhere else entirely?

Does he have special powers? Does he have different dietary needs?

Could being mixed be a reason Satan decided to employ him?

So many questions!!!!

Edit: People have been pointing out that he also looks to be part succubus. I hadn't considered that at first but after rewatching the episode, I definitely agree.

[lightineventide]

Ayreontasia Inktober Day 1-2: Favourite Emotional Moment

I mean, who's surprised?! 😅

Originally I didn't plan to share any of the little doodles I made while initially brainstorming for ideas for different prompts. The last few days have been very emotionally draining though, so I decided to have a bit of fun with some of the best ones.

[onceuponmykpop]

BTS as The Seven Deadly Sins

Introduction -

There are Seven main characters, each representing one of the seven deadly sins.

Seokjin as Gluttony

Yoongi as Sloth

Hoseok as Greed

Namjoon as Envy

Jimin as Lust

Taehyung as Pride

Jungkook as Wrath.

- Set the stage for a supernatural world where these sins coexist and have their own agendas.

Conflict -

A series of mysterious murders start happening in the city, victim each appearing to have been killed by a different sin.

- The BTS members each start experiencing strange occurrences that align with their respective sins, causing confusion and fear among them.

Point-

The group realizes that they are being targeted by a powerful force that wants to eliminate them for embodying the sins. They must come together and use their unique powers to uncover the truth behind the killings and protect themselves from the threat.

Climax -

Through a series of intense battles and revelations, the group discovers that they are pawns in a larger supernatural game, where forces of good and evil are fighting for control of the sins. - They must make a choice to either embrace their sins and join the fight, or reject them and side with the forces of good.

Resolution.-

The BTS members come to terms with their own flaws and their virtues, understanding that balance between darkness and light is necessary for harmony.

- They use their powers to defeat the true villain behind the killings, restoring peace to the city and earning their place as protectors of both sin and righteousness.

[guardian-angle22]

Hallo Heather! I would like a gif of a baby owl or a baby sloth if you can find either one please and thank you

[response to my request for gif prompts post here]

[oldwickedlotus]

I was given a prompt of Sid the Sloth and Captain Spaulding. This is what I came up with. This is made entirely in procreate

[brick-a-doodle-do]

You say you want prompts….

What if the giant who used to be quiet (maybe for not so good reasons) but came out of their shell with the help of their tiny has a short relapse where they completely don’t talk and the tiny is just there to help

Perhaps g!Ranboo with t!Tommy or t!Tubbo (or whoever I just want fluff—)

speedwriting on vacation? speedwriting on vacation.

i was gonna wait for you

wc: 1849

cw: swearing, panic, brief mutism (is that the right word? the internet gave me it), mention of (sfw) vore/mouthplay

—–—

Ranboo is going to murder him.

Tommy stumbles against the lapping wind, which pushes at his cheeks and makes them like ice. Rain patters onto him, each drop like a bucket being dropped on his head.

Shivering, he pulls his coat around him, trying to act like it wasn’t already drenched. He stumbles again, adjusting his footing right before toppling over. A blurry light shines in the distance, through an array of trees with branches that clash loudly with one another. With each of his steps, above the sounds of the wind and pouring rain, there’s a faint clicking noise. Prior to going out into the belly of the storm, Tommy had been occupied shoveling handfuls of rocks into his pocket to assure he wouldn’t get swept into the night by the gale.

The tiny made his way through the clearing, the light of the house growing nearer at an agitating pace, and by the time he finds footing on the pathway to his hole in the wall, the rain has seemed to disperse a little. He scrunches his hair up and water seeps from it, the same as he pinches the fabric of his coat. 

For the most part, the house seemed sleepy enough. Maybe he could get to bed before Ranboo confronts him. He treks the path, his soaked and muddy shoes sliding along the floor and nearly having him fall over enough times for him to discard them at their third murder attempt at him. 

The rest of the way was quick, until he finally reached his nook. The lights were out, just as he had left them. He squints in the darkness, feeling his way through the area before collapsing on a makeshift couch. He sighs, pulling his coat off and tossing it to the side with a squelch. He cringes at it, then decides he should probably do something about the wet mess he could call himself. 

He gets off the couch and flicks his lights on, which flicker for a moment before lighting the space up in warm lighting while projecting star-shaped shadows on the wall. He grabs his jacket from the floor and hangs it up, positioning a portion of a towel, (courtesy of Ranboo), underneath it to collect the fallen raindrops. 

Doing the same with his shirt, he then hovers over a basket of clean and dry clothes. 

Tommy is mid-way through struggling on a makeshift hoodie before a soft sob carries through into the walls. 

He—not before adjusting the shirt on him—pauses, interest piquing at the sound. Ranboo?, his mind supplies, thoughts of the human’s reaction to his disappearance already filtering through his thoughts. At another sob, Tommy promptly replaces his pants and hurries down the hall to the opening in the kitchen. 

Stepping out onto the counter, it wasn't hard to spot Ranboo, curled up on his couch, staring blankly out onto the floor, shuddering occasionally as the post-cry hiccups settled in. 

Tommy’s seen that gaze before. 

Guilt bubbles in his gut, the feeling in him as he remembers seeing Ranboo look like that, quiet and still after events regarding another borrower they had scared off. Tommy had gone to talk them out of the demeanor and in the process befriended them, and now months down the line they stare at the floor the same way they had back then. It didn't take much for Tommy to recognize that the trance he’d put the human in traced back to none other than himself. 

He sighs, arms crossing instinctually as he begins to adjust to a plan. Water drips inaudibly from his soaked hair, tracing down his face and dripping down his bare arms, a small puddle forming at his feet before he takes off again, along the length of the counter, (While clambering through stray things on its surface), until he reaches the edge of it, then steps off to an installed plank for him to walk along, the thing narrow and uneven although plentifully useful. 

Tommy passes through Ranboo’s excuse of a dining area and then into the living room, silent as he can as to not disturb Ranboo into panicking further. The human’s head rests on the couch with their hands folded solemnly over the edge of the couch. 

While sturdily inching his way down the pathway, Tommy debates on calling out to his friend, his mouth opening and closing with ‘Ranboo!’ stuck on the tip of his tongue. 

He sucks it up and stops in his tracks momentarily, cupping his water-wrinkled hands over his mouth and yelling out a fond: “Ranboo! My guy!” 

Ranboo’s still for a moment, Tommy narrowing his eyes at the scene before opening them up again as he human shuffles up from the couch and looks around for the borrower. He waves, attracting their attention towards Tommy. Ranboo’s eyes soften instantly, though they make no move for their little friend. 

Tommy, not knowing what to do with such a distance recognition as Ranboo’s, fills the silence.

“Oh, man, Ranboo, that storm out there,” Tommy starts, groaning for emphasis while continuing down the path to the, (still half-frozen), human, “I fucking went across the clearing for acorns, they're in season and I figured …. uh, well, I didn't really have s plan, but then it became fucking dark as shit and only at sundown, so I filled my pockets with rocks so I wouldn't blow away, I—”

“Were you leaving me?” Ranboo says, cutting Tommy off purely in relief. His voice is quiet, nearly cracking had he spent any more time crying. 

“What?” Tommy asks, dumbfounded at the question. By now, he’s halfway across the floor of Ranboo’s floor; halfway to the couch. 

“You left, and I have to ask if it was because of me,” Ranboo repeats, more emphasis and his voice a little louder, though Tommy doubts any lift in Ranboo’s demeanor. 

Tommy shakes his head, knowing well Ranboo couldn't see it but perhaps as a reassurance to himself. 

“No, no! Dickhead do you really think I’d do that? Ranboo, I wouldn't have came back if I was leaving you,” Tommy says, scoffing half-heartedly before adding a swift: “which I wasn't.”

Ranboo hums, still making no move to welcome home the borrower, who stands below his outstretched hands awaiting any kind of movement. 

“Jack was a one time thing, he just got scared, like the ass he is,” Tommy continued on. He stands, folding his arms over his torso impatiently despite knowing he shouldn't be worried about the status of his stance. 

At the most, Tommy can barely reach the tip of Ranboo’s finger no matter how much he extends his height.

Falling back down onto his heels, Tommy huffs. “One time, I walked in on Jack borrowing food and he thought I was a human. Scared the shit out of him for sure, like a human could come from the other side of the cabinet.”

Ranboo stays quiet. 

“...can you let me up?” Tommy asks, finally. Much to his dismay, he’s met with an immediate response that almost seems mindless. Ranboo’s hand inches down barely, though enough for Tommy to cling onto him. Secure, Ranboo says nothing as he brings the borrower up to the couch, resting on the unoccupied side of the pillow that he had been resting on. 

Tommy then adjusts to the uneven surface and looks up at Ranboo, who's face is covered, the strap of their seeming mask the only thing he can make out. They put the mask back on. 

(Regarding the incident of Jack, Ranboo had sulked around the house in a mask. He never understood why and never cared to question it after he took it off, and now he doesn't have the gut to ask now.)

“I'm back, aren't I? I still touched your abnormally long fingers,” Tommy points out, partially because he wanted out of his thoughts. Ranboo doesn't crack a smile at his thrown-together humor. Or, at least he assumes they don't as the mask obscures the one prominent indicator. 

Tommy pulls his lips to the side in thought, eyes narrow at the quiet human. “If I took the mask off and climbed inside your mouth would you move enough to spit me out?” 

Ranboo’s brows crease through strands of their hair. Tommy considers this progress. 

“Ranboo,” Tommy starts, something of a distant phrase stuck in his throat. His voice runs dry and his pride pulls at him to Shut The Fuck Up, but his heart doesn't care.“I'm sorry,” he says, a weight lifted from him even though he knows he shouldn't be the one being relieved, “I knew you were awake, or whatever you were doing, and I left during a storm and even then I hadn't came back and I guess it was shitty on my end. Sorry.”

There's a pause, and a longer pause, and …. it doesn't take long for Tommy to realize the pause was simply Ranboo ignoring the borrower. 

He doesn't know why, although that silence hit him graver than any other. Like months of tangling has been undone by a simple stroke. An apology from him has been left to disperse into only a fine memory of Tommy’s that leaves him remembering how kind he had been and how passive Ranboo had been. (Even so, he still has the emotions to amplify that he was more than hurt at the absence of a response.)

“Fine. Dick.” It's back to wit. “I'm going to jump off the couch since you don't want to fucking talk to me,” Tommy murmurs, turning on his heel and making less than a grand exit than he would've liked. (Not as if Ranboo's attention was on him.)

He slides off of the pillow, then close to the cliff that was the edge of the couch. Staring down at it, he considers the fall. Couldn't result in death, therefore leading him further and further until he decides to quip out a curious: “Oh, goodbye ole’ Ranboo, he-who-won't-talk-to-me.”

At his last syllable he steps from the couch, praying to Prime as the ground comes closer that he comes out of this with no less than an injury. Before he could hit the ground, just as he had presumed, he’s caught as lengthy cold fingers trap him and he’s stopped from the fall. Ranboo’s grip on him tightens ever-so-gently and he can make out his return to the couch. 

Ranboo hums, the smallest of noises he’s heard all evening. 

Instead of being let out, Tommy body pulses with warmth all around him as he’s engulfed in a darkness, a beating heart just moments away from him. He groans at their grip, yet makes no move away from the crease in his friend's neck, which radiates warmth and vibrates softly, almost silent had he not been pressed against their throat. 

“Thank you, for not leaving me,” Ranboo whispers. It echoes from where he sat against their throat. 

Through his urge of wit and of sarcasm, Tommy only has the mind to respond, loud and clear and in full honesty, with: “I wouldn't do that.”

—–—

[thecodeveronica]

Oh, this may be an odd request, but does anyone know some good blogs for writing prompts for fics? Simple prompts preferably: broad and not the quote-type ones, more gen in nature than romantic?

I'm trying to kickstart my ass into broadening my writing horizons and trying to find other, smaller projects to work on while attempting longfics. And I was thinking trying to do prompts to write some short fics, maybe practice starting in media res since I struggle a lot with setup.

Prompts like "blood," "sunrise," "warm hands," that kind of thing. Some that can be fluff, but others that would force me to go for a little angst and out of my comfort zone.

[rivvilrothe]

Proud Members of the Beady Eyes Club

Next week: Sleep

[holyshittywritings]

The Seven Deadly Sins

She sits on a self-made throne

Smirking up toward the gods,

A sigh of content leaves her mouth

Eyes closed, she smiles and nods.

All the gold rests at her feet

Yet she dreams of more,

Thinks wisely about fulfilling her wants,

Existence of others, she ignores.

Except for the one she sees,

A naked beauty in the cold

Like all things that she must have,

Leaving the story of grief untold.

Soon, she is no longer smirking

But yearning for what the gods have,

As if mortal desires aren't enough,

Immortal lushness, she wants to add.

Mortal food tastes incomplete

To what she craves of godly foods,

She can only see its shine and gold,

The deadliness, her mind eludes.

Squinting eyes turn red

From what it seems, she cannot obtain

Not a step down she takes,

For herself, she orders others to attain.

Soon, they say her reign shall end

And serve as a warning to the rest,

Yet, like Icarus's closeness to the sun,

The same, no one should be able to attest.

[asheanon]

Behold, the gang... They're all here today:

Doing more laid back beach-y things, such as having a little picnic and generally vibing.

Currently: Sitting on the picnic blanket, the boys a.k.a Lorien and Branson are hanging out, sipping on some tea and nibbling on some little Cake Yazdi-inspired muffins/cupcakes; a Rouhani family (Mina's family) special.

Meanwhile, Mina is chasing a tiny crab that continues to elude her. Everyone has seen it, by now - even still, she insists on trying to catch it and show it to the others up close.

Sal is off in her own little corner, perusing the shoreline for seashells. (Sally doesn't sell seashells by the seashore in this little story, however!)

[kinardsevan]

13, 15, 35. You can either pick one of them or write something with all three! I am a glutton for your writing I will take anything I can get

13 and 15 for you! (this is 1000% your fault, btw)

-

Evan’s hands are trembling as blood runs over them, pressing down hard on his chest. 

“Come on, baby,” he sobs, his fingers practically fisting around the part of the steering column dug into Tommy’s chest. 

Tommy looks up at him, his face too gray for Evan’s liking, the sadness in them hurting more than it did the night they broke up. “I’m s-sorry, Evan.” 

He shakes his head wildly, clenching his jaw as he glares at Tommy with those crystal blue eyes. 

“No, god damn it,” he growls, pressing down harder against the flow. “You don’t get to do this to me again. You don’t get to leave me again. You don’t get to leave me permanently. Fucking fight, Tommy.” 

“D-doing my best,” he stammers, the slightest laugh slipping out of him even though it’s clear that neither of them finds the current situation funny. Around them, their friends are doing their best to work Tommy out of the situation in the safest way possible, but none of them are stupid. They know the situation is dire, and the silence of it all just makes Evan’s throat hurt that much more. It should be loud—too loud; loud means things are happening, movement is happening. Silence means-

Silence isn’t good. 

“I love you,” he sobs, shaking his head as he presses his hands in harder. “Don’t do this to me, okay? I can’t- you can’t- I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. S-so you can’t do this to me.” 

Tommy lifts a shaking hand to Evan’s face, brushes at the tears on his cheek. “You deserve so much better than this.” 

Evan nods, his jaw still tight, his eyes full of righteous anger. “You’re god damn right I do. So live and let me have it.” 

Tommy doesn’t respond, much as Evan may want him to. They both know he doesn’t have that kind of control over the situation. No matter how much Evan yells at him to live, it has far more to do with proximity to a hospital and blood volume than it does his own personal will to survive. 

“I l-..” 

“No,” Evan growls at him. “You don’t get to tell me now.” 

“Evan.” Tommy rasps his name like a secret, and the younger man sobs, leaning into him and pressing his forehead into Tommy’s. 

“You h-have to wait, okay,” he chokes out. “Tell me after, okay? Tell me after.” 

“Baby, I don’t know if there is an after,” Tommy whispers back. 

[darkestspring]

alright! i've gotten a lot of stuff done for my followers event! i only have 3 more sins to write prompts. knocked 4 sins out in pretty much an hour and it is 10:15 pm currently and i have work tomorrow morning so im gonna go to bed!!! then im gonna work and i have monday and tuesday off so i'll probably have the followers event posted either late tomorrow or monday! im so excited about this <3333

[justarandomsloth]

fake Fic titles:

-My Lover Lives in a Strange Home

-Lies and Flower Petals

-My Brother’s Last Day on Earth

-Can’t Fit In, Can’t Stand Out

Thanks Anon so much for the prompts!!! (These aren’t really as good as I wanted them to be because for some reason I just struggled with these. I hope you enjoy them though!)

—

My Lover Lives in a Strange Home

—Phil is perfectly at peace with the love of his life, Kristin. They keep absolutely NO secrets from each other….except for one.

Kristin’s house is very normal but there’s just one room that she made Phil swear to never go into. He happily agreed, assuming that that’s were she kept all of her secret art projects or something like that. She even promised to show him one day when the time was right! But Phil was still curious.

—The blond was waiting for Kristin to come back from the store when he noticed some light coming from the hallway. The door to the secret room was barely cracked open and light could be seen spilling from inside.

Surely….it couldn’t hurt to just have a little look.

Stepping into the room, Phil was shocked to discover a miniature forest with trees just barely taller then him. After exploring for a while, he was even more surprised to see what appeared to be, tiny people?

What had Kristin been hiding?!?!

(Kristin is a sizeshifter and used magic to make the room where she shelters tinies, Wilbur, Tehcno, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, maybe others. I can just imagine once they get comfortable with Phil that he and Kristen just have to be the parental figures to the crazy tinies!!)

—

My Brother’s Last Day On Earth

—Giants and humans live together peacefully. Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno are all brothers though by looking at them one wouldn’t guess. With two being well over 45ft tall and the last being a little of 6ft, people are often surprised.

They all are extremely close and they do the best with what they have. While their living conditions aren’t….. the greatest they still manage just fine and besides, they have each other! They just have to ignore the leaky roof, the lack of a heater, the limited selection of food they have……yea things aren’t that great.

—One day the countries space program announces that they’ve found a new planet and are looking for certain citizens to go populate and explore it. Those certain citizens being, giants. The new planet they found was absolutely HUGE and was almost made to giant standards.

Even though the space program was paying an exorbitant amount of money most giants were skeptical and didn’t want to risk it.

Wilbur hears of this and he immediately signs up under one condition, a better life be provided for Tommy. Higher education, housing, food, you name it, the program had no problem paying.

Techno is NOT pleased but he isn’t about to let his brother die on an alien planet.

on the day of their departure they both say goodbye to Tommy but little did they know the teen wasn’t staying.

Tommy snuck onto the ship and didn’t make himself known until it was too late to go back….oops.

(Two other teens may have snuck on board the ship as well and Phil is the captain of the expedition)

—

Can’t Fit In, Can’t Stand Out

—Tommy is a human who lives in an apartment with tiny mouse hybrids Wilbur, Phil, and Techno. At least, that’s what they think.

You see, Tommy is actually an avian hybrid. In this au not much is known about avian hybrids. Tommy however has small, red wings, slitted pupils, and clawed fingertips. He’s also tall, like 8ft tall. He just assumes it’s part of being an avian.

Little does he know that avian hybrids are actually giants and how tall they grow is determined by how healthy their wings are. Since Tommy never had anyone to help teach him proper wing care or avian stuff he’s actually incredibly stunted (for an avian). It also doesn’t help that he constantly has his wings bound to help hide them.

Another perk that Tommy has is that he is able to shift into a more human form. He can hide all of his hybrid features except his wings. Luckily a collection of oversized hoodies can help with that. His human form is shorter at around only 6ft tall.

One day Tommy came home from work only to find three tiny mouse hybrids arguing on his kitchen counter. After a shaky first encounter the trio eventually start to care about the giant teen. It gets to the point where they’re all comfortable enough around him to make themselves constantly known. Now they’ll even latch on to Tommy when he walks by to get rides!

Tommy didn’t mean to keep the fact that he was an avian a secret, it just never came up. Also SUE HIM for not wanting to lose the only friends he had. Tommy also figured that revealing himself to be a large, predatory hybrid would only scare them away. Besides, it’s not that hard to hide his hybrid features.

—One day Tommy arrives home from work feeling absolutely exhausted. He barely even talks to the tinies before going to his room for the night. The teens wings are sore and it’s been, what? two weeks since he’s last shifted (which is extremely unhealthy). Barely even thinking about it Tommy shifts into his avian form, practically melting with relief. He lays there for a couple minutes before hearing a tiny squeak.

Bolting upright, Tommy looks over to see that the trio of mouse hybrids are right there, and they’re staring directly at him.

He didn’t even have time to explain himself before they had ran and disappeared into the walls.

—

Thanks again for the amazing prompts!! I have realized that I made every one of the fake fics about Sbi…. oops.