#title prompt list

[knifwp]

Prompt #75

More chapter/story title ideas

Stay, Whether You Like it or Not

We’re All Searching For Home

Over the Seas to the Ends of the World

Dearest Little One, Spread your Wings and Fly

A Message for Your King

You Fold like a House of Cards

For Someone Who Cares

I Fucked up but I’m Going to Roll with it Anyway

Necklace of Thorns

Just Because I am a Child Doesn’t Mean I Don’t Know Pain

[unboundprompts]

hi if this hasn't been asked before but maybe some book titles with themes of being hunted? plz

Hunting/Hunted Title Ideas

-> feel free to edit as you see fit.

A Merciful Death

The Tale of the Hunt

To Glorify the Hunter

A Golden Cage

The Longest Trek

Escape by Night

Bloodied Footprints

One Step Ahead

First, It Will Hurt

Run and Don't Look Back

A Trophy

A Dark Wood

I Am Lost

Until Morning Comes

Sought After

Until I Can Run No Farther

Prey

No Time for Rest

Watchful and Cold

Panic Within

Hounds of the Night

Can't Escape the Chase

Adrenaline's Embrace

Eyes Everywhere

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “I wish you would have cheated; smashed my heart to pieces, gave me a reason to hate you” prompts

“Why did you always have to be so good to me? Now I can’t even move the fuck on properly.”

“You were the best I’ve ever had, and I fucking hate that. I fucking hate that no one can ever be better than you, and… And I was the one to have lost you.”

“I really wish you gave me a reason to hate you.”

“Moving on would be so much easier if you just… If you just fucked me over.”

“Is it messed up that I wish you did something to me to make me hate you? Because this shit hurts ten times more than ending it with a piece of shit.” 

“If only you’d hurt me like I’d hurt you. Only if the tables were turned. Because then I wouldn’t hate myself as much as I do right now.”

“Tell me how I’m supposed to move on when you’ve always been so supportive and caring of me; how I’m supposed to move on when I know I’ve hurt you so many times while you’ve always taken care of me when I deserved none of your kindness? How am I supposed to move on when you’ve done me right, all of the time?” 

“If only you’d given me one reason to hate your guts. Just one. It would have made this so much easier. But no. You’ve given me none. But you’ve given me every reason to hate myself, which is not your fault, but entirely my own.”

“You know what the worst thing about this is? You did nothing wrong. And I wish you did.”

“…You’ve done nothing wrong to me, which is why it makes it so much harder for me to get the closure I need. You broke me to pieces without meaning to, because you were doing what’s right for yourself; by leaving someone who wasn’t right for you. By leaving me.” 

[lyralit]

writing prompts from ttpd quotes

took a miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary

but I've seen this episode and still loved the show

this ain't the chelsea hotel, we're modern idiots

left all these broken parts // told me I'm better off // but I'm not

down bad, waking up in blood // staring at the sky, come back and pick me up

& I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

I learned these people try and save you // 'cause they hate you

scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer

at the park where we used to sit on childrens' swings // wearing imaginary rings

barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine // well, me and my ghosts, wе had a hell of a time

love left me like this and I don't want to exist // so take me to Florida

what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

I was tame, I was gentle, til the circus life made me mean // don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

he had a halo of the highest grade // he just hadn't met me yet

dancing phantoms on the terrace // are they second-hand embarrassed // that I can't get out of bed? // 'cause something counterfeit's dead

our field of dreams, engulfed in fire // your arson's match, your somber eyes

you're the loss of my life

breaking down, I hit the floor // all the pieces of me shattering as the crowd was chanting "more!"

'cause once your queen had come // you treat her like an also-ran // you didn't measure up // in any measure of a man

he jokes that it's heroin, but this time with an "e"

it's hell...on...earth...to...be...heeeaaveeenlyyyy

you've got edge, she never did // the future's bright....dazzling

[promptsblog]

Title Prompts

1. I Sold My Life

2. My Title is 'Earl'

3. Chased by a Chicken

4. A Crapload of Turnips

5. My Boyfriend is an Alien

6. We Bought a Gay Bar

7. Worst Group Project Ever

8. Duelling the Gardener's Cat

9. Doppelganger Dilemma

10. A Very Grumpy Baron

11. Stealing Back the Trophy

12. The Xylophone Incident

13. The Great Office Supply Heist

14. Hijacked by a Flashmob

15. My Grandmother is a Vampire Hunter

16. Falling in Love while Feinting a Faint

17. How to Lose a Marquess in Ten Days

18. Winning a Bet I Never Made

19. The Mysterious Missing Muffins

20. You, Me, and the Ghost in the Attic

21. How to Break an Engagement Before Tea

22. The Lady who Faked Amnesia

23. How I Accidentally Became Queen of the Mermaids

24. Operation: Steal my Ex's Dog

25. The Time-Traveling Guinea Pig

26. The Battle for the Last Parking Spot

27. Revenge of the Wedding Crasher

28. We Kidnapped a Dragon

29. The Rake who Stole my Heart (and my Horse)

30. The Minimalism to Prison Pipeline

31. The Summer I Got Stuck in a Video Game

32. How we Ruined the Neighbourhood Barbeque

33. Crashing my Own Birthday Party

34. The Great Ice Cream Truck Turf Wars

35. The Vending Machine Tour of North America

36. Honey, I started a cult

37. The Day My Toaster Tried to Take Over the World

38. The World's Last Magical Doughnut

39. The Theme Park in our Backyard

40. How I Accidentally Summoned an Evil Sock Puppet

41. Gift Exchange Gone Wrong

42. The Lunch Thief Strikes Again

43. That Time I Framed you for your Dad's Murder

[ricesinspo]

☆ — "that's my dream!": jealousy. by @ricesinspo, credits appreciated!

— ☆ —

[★] no, no, no. don't look at them. why'd they have to flaunt it so publicly? piece of shit.

[★] "congratulations..." (sarcastically. as a response towards someone innocently showing off their achievements.)

[★] "what are you doing with that?" "huh? what do you m—" "don't keep it all for yourself. give me some."

[★] "life isn't fair, you know that? stop complaining." "that's why i'm even complaining so much in the first place !!!!!"

[★] really? everyone else got a loud, cheerful greeting, and you only get a cold, lifeless "hi"?

[★] "look at me. no, look at me. it's my turn."

[★] always them, always him, always her, always this and that, why can't it be you for once? why can't you get what everyone else has?

— ☆ —

[scealaiscoite]

pride month prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🐚 ꒱

— “i know you’re pretty private about your identity, but i was wondering if you’d like to something small with me just to mark the occasion?”

— “i found this with your flag on it, and it made me think of you.”

— “the parade is on this weekend, do you think you’d like to go with me?”

— “did you really get a rainbow bandana for the dog/cat?”

— “last year you got plastered and sang lady gaga for an hour straight at karaoke, so i can’t wait to see what this year holds.”

— “i’ll never need a reason to show the world how much i love you.”

— “i understand that you want to be supportive and i appreciate that, but is covering the house in pride flag bunting really the way to go?”

— “come on, it’s just a drag brunch! who doesn’t like drag brunches?!”

— “i was thinking we could go out somewhere nice for date night this week. you know, just for the month that’s in it.”

[blixabargelds]

Please number 12 Please!

thank youuuu i’m going to do this for superstar (punk au) because i want to and without the reams of context it may seem ooc to stick gale on tons of drugs but trust me on this one. also it’s my sandpit. this is kind of an outtake from his 25th birthday~~

¹²⁾ “can we- can we just stay here, like this, for a minute? please?”

“Buck, baby, come out.”

Gale looks at John’s feet. Battered Docs, one fraying yellow lace, one black. The ragged cuffs of his dark jeans. They pace the room up and down- the motion like a pendulum. Like a metronome. Gale breathes and listens to his racing heart. Music thuds through the closed door.

“I like it here,” Gale says.

“Huh?”

“I said I like it down here,” Gale repeats, louder.

John’s feet slow to a stop in front of the bed. Gale hears him sigh, before his knees come into view, then his hands, then his kind, smiling face as he gets on all fours.

“You’re missin’ your party, baby.”

Gale knows this. His fingertips have gone numb. His lips are tingling, his heart going thump-thump-thump. He can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. John’s smile falters, and he flattens himself out, lying parallel just outside the bed, Gale still tucked underneath it. John’s fingers reach out to brush his arm.

“What’d you take, Buck?”

Gale squeezes his eyes shut. His ribs feel too tight. “Just coke.”

“Yeah?”

Gale bites his lip. He nods his head. Then shakes it against the floor, the rough weave of their bedroom rug scratching against his face. The tingling in his lips has spread to his nose, making it itch. He can’t quite feel his ears. He wonders, then, if he can ever feel his ears.

“Hey, Buck,” John says. His voice is more urgent, and when Gale opens his eyes to look at him his brows are drawn close. “Just coke, yeah?”

Gale’s teeth don’t fit. “I don’t know,” he breathes. “I think so. I don’t know. I don’t know. Bucky, I can’t feel my ears.”

“Neither me, doll,” John says. He edges closer, half his body under the bed with him. “Who gave it to you?”

Gale tries to remember. He found it, he thinks. In someone’s hung up coat pocket. The tingling is in his arms now, weighing them down and tickling. Gale thinks of the awful reverb Rosie can make his guitar sing. He thinks of white noise.

“Are there bugs on me?”

“No, sweetheart,” John says. He brushes a strand of hair back from Gale’s eyes, tucking it behind his ear. Gale would’ve done it, but his hands won’t move. “There’s no bugs on you.”

“Hm,” Gale says. The music changes to something faster. Something smashes in their kitchen, making him flinch. “John, I don’t want them.”

John’s looking at him like he isn’t making sense. Gale doesn’t know why he can’t see them. “Who, Buck?”

“The bugs,” Gale whispers.

John frowns. Hesitates for a second. “Tell you what, baby. You come out and drink some water, and I’ll make sure they’re all gone, how’s that?”

Gale considers this. He nods again, unsure if he can move himself, but John does it for him either way. His face lights up as he backs out from the shelter of the bed, extending his hands for Gale to take and hauling him upward. He sits him on the edge of the mattress, handing him a glass of water. Gale takes it shakily. Tries a few sips. It tastes like gasoline, and whatever liquor John dumped out to repurpose the glass. He grimaces, keeps drinking it slowly. John moves to sit behind him, knees bracketing Gale’s hips as he starts to pick through his hair. Gale smiles something small and fragile.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Checking for bugs,” John says at the shell of Gale’s ear. His breath tickles Gale’s neck, making him laugh.

“Actin’ like I got fleas.”

“Woof,” John says, pressing a kiss to the pulse at the side of Gale’s throat. He realises, then, that it’s slowed a little. “You’re all clear, doll. Bug free. Promise.”

Gale nods. He leans into John’s chest, tipping his head back against his shoulder. His breath comes easier. In, then out, mechanical but working. The tingling’s faded.

“Can we just stay here?” he sighs. “Like this, for a minute? Please.”

“Sure thing, birthday boy,” John whispers into his hair. “You want your present now?”

Gale blinks. Presses his fingertips up against his chest and checks in with the speed of his heart. “You got more?”

“What? Jesus, Buck, no. Slow down. I was gonna suck you off.”

“Oh,” Gale says. He’s fairly sure he has his own coke left, anyway. Or whoever’s he found. John’s hand travels up under his shirt, then down to the front of his jeans, palming him lazily and making him hum. “Sure. Go on then.”

[promptsbytaurie]

titles beginning with A

a good cause

ash, dirt, bone

american pie

a whisper in the wind

all the parts of the puzzle (start to look like they fit)

am i already on the way out?

anywhere i go (there you are)

always at the back of my mind

again and again

at least let me have this

are you something i cannot hold

anywhere but here

a sign would be nice

ablaze

a shoulder to die on

a letter to the universe

after you (my dear)

amber

acquiring illegal loves

answer the voice that calls you

an abridged version of love

after all this time

a dream i dream (with you)

absolute certainty

allowances of expression

a bird in the hand

affording a certain goodness

aligned

allow me to care (please)

after dark

any piece of you (will do)

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Tenth Day of Gift-Giving

Ten Titles

... creative titles for your next story

It’s not like the movies

Goodbye to our yesterday

Longing for the love we left

Confessions in the dark

As the gods will

The story about the tree

Getting too comfortable

What we’ve never done before

Burying our memories

The name they gave us

24 Days of Gift-Giving

[azure-clockwork]

How Does it Feel to Read Classic Sci-Fi?

Orson Scott Card: Two of the most interesting books you’ll ever read if you’re willing to look past a handful of things. And then you find the planet of Chinese people who worship having debilitating OCD. And the Mormonism. And the fact that the author is wildly homophobic and ought to read his own books.

Robert Heinlein (or at least the Wikipedia Summaries): I guess that’s a neat concept—oh, it’s a sex thing. Um. Gotcha.

Ray Bradbury: Man, I gotta read this thing for class huh. Well here’s hoping it’s good! *three hours later* oh. that’s why he’s famous. this will stick with me forever and I will never look at the phrase ‘soft rain’ the same again. christ. And then repeat 3x.

Isaac Asimov: Wow, this is such an interesting concept! I wonder how the exploration of it will influence the plot! Wait, hey, are you going to add any characters? Any of em? No like, with character traits other than ‘robot psychologist’ and ‘autistic’ and ‘woman’? None of em? No, ‘detective’ isn’t a character trait. Those are all just facts. Aaaand now I’m bored.

Ursula K. Le Guin: Hah, get a load of this guy! He’s never heard of nonbinary people before. Lol, what a riot; how dumb do you have to be to comprehend that these people aren’t men *or* women actually? Oh, wait, what’s happening. Oh shit, it was about society and love and learning to understand each other? And now I’m crying? And perhaps a better human being for it??

Andy Weir: Alright, this guy’s a really good writer. Funny, creative, knows so much engineering stuff…ooh, a new book! …I guess he can’t write women. Well, he wouldn’t be the first sci-fi writer…ooh another new book! And it’s more engineering problem solving and—wow. It’s not just women he can’t write. Please stop letting your characters talk to each other.

Lois Lowry: Oh, I remember this being fun when I was a kid! Wouldn’t it be fucked up to not see color? …upon reread, it would be fucked up to have your humanity stripped away, replaced with a tepid, beige ‘happiness’ for all time. Yeah.

Tamsyn Muir (let me have this ok): Haha, “lesbian necromancers in space” sounds fun. Lemme read this. Oh wow, yeah, this is right up my alley. OH GOD WHAT. NO. FUCK. OH SHIT WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING AND WHY IS IT REFERENCING THE BOOK OF RUTH AND HOMESTUCK BACK TO BACK!!! AHHHHHHHHH!! Now give me more please.

[ladytauria]

to celebrate hitting 50k i'm sharing a snippet of the longfic i'm currently working on <3 (thank you v much to both @deepwithintheabyss and @paprikadotmp4 for the encouragement & brainstorming help <3)

still untitled (i've been calling it the "aob dubcon fic" lmao) but i have written a summary:

Jason tries to sell off his first heat to make ends meet for the upcoming winter. When he’s taken by traffickers instead, he’s sure that’s the end of him—until he’s rescued by a mysterious alpha. That “rescue” comes with a price: Jason’s heat hits shortly after, and… one thing leads to another, and now Jason and Tim are bound together by a fledgling mate bond. It’s not the first time Jason’s had to make the best of things, but… he finds it a little bit easier this time, especially as he grows to genuinely like Tim. Unfortunately, just as they're starting to settle into mated life, Tim’s ex-pack starts getting involved, and they don’t exactly approve of Tim’s choice in mate—never mind that it wasn’t really a choice at all.

cws/tags for this snippet: reverse robins, aob dynamics, underage jason (15), first aid, medical inaccuracies (probably; i'm not a doctor, so i'm warning to be safe), hurt/comfort, touch starvation, anxiety, allusions to captivity related ptsd, self-deprecation, brief memories of non-consensual touching

editing to add: this snippet takes place in the 2nd half of chapter 2 <3 (& was originally the second scene for the fic lol)

i have also previously shared a snippet of the scene after this, when jason's heat hits, here.

Tim parks outside of an old apartment building. The brick facade is worn, cracked and peeling in places. Most of the windows are intact at least, though; two of them have lights on, the rest dark.

Tim gets out first, already having rounded the car by the time Jason is swinging his legs out. His hand rests on the door, waiting patiently for Jason to join him on the sidewalk. Then he shuts it. One hand rests on Jason’s back again, a gentle guide inside.

There’s a man at the desk near the front entrance, reading a newspaper. He spares them a brief, bored glance before going back to it.

There’s an out of order sign on the elevator, so they have to take the stairs. It’s just two flights, but by the end, Jason’s slightly out of breath. He’d thought he was in pretty good shape, but—

He guesses spending nearly a week in a small, windowless room hasn’t done him any favors.

Tim stops at a door in the middle of the hall, unlocking it and letting Jason go in first. The main room is all one room; living room transitioning to kitchen, separated by an island counter. Tim guides Jason to the couch, directing him to sit while he gets the first aid kit.

The couch is worn but comfortable, cushions sinking under Jason’s weight, cradling him.

Tim disappears down the hall, and returns a few moments later holding the biggest first aid kit Jason has ever seen. Not that he’s really an expert on the things, but— The one at his house was pretty small.

And mostly empty, honestly.

The coffee table looks comically small under it. It makes Jason’s belly flip with nerves, remembering the feeling of latex covered hands on his body, spreading him open.

He bites his lip.

Tim doesn’t open it, though; instead, he slips into the kitchen. He comes back a moment later, holding a bottle of purple Gatorade. Then, he kneels in front of Jason. It’s—odd. Having an alpha kneel in front of him, voluntarily. Even though Jason knows he doesn’t exactly have any power here, the visual dissonance is—

Odd.

He offers up the bottle. It takes a moment for Jason’s hands to move, but he does take it. His fingers fumble with the cap; he flushed, embarrassed despite himself, but gets it open.

As soon as it touches his lips, his thirst hits him full force. He allows himself two large gulps to wet his throat, and then forces himself to slow down, sipping instead.

When he screws the cap back on, he finds Tim still there. Waiting. He twists his hands around the plastic nervously.

“Alright,” Tim says gently. “Other than the bruise on your side, and the rope burns… are you injured?”

Jason shakes his head, twisting the sleeves of the alpha’s jacket. “Nn-nn. Just some bruises,” he says softly. He pauses. “And, um. I did hit my head once. It still hurts, but— I’m not, like, dizzy or nothin’.”

Tim nods. “Alright,” he says. “I’d like to do a head injury evaluation anyway. I’ll just feel over your skull, and then use a penlight to evaluate your pupil dilation. I’ve got cream for the rope burns, and for the bruise—” Tim hesitates a moment, then continues, “I’ll need to check and make sure nothing is cracked, and there’s no internal bruising.” He pauses again. “As long as there’s nothing serious anywhere else… I have some painkillers you can take, when we eat.”

Jason takes a moment to absorb all of that, and then nods, tipping his head forward obediently.

There’s a part of him screaming at himself not to be so compliant. To kick and claw and scratch and bite and fight, the way he has been for the past week. But he’s— He’s so tired, and sore, and—

The alpha smells so good, and— The smiles he keeps giving Jason melt something inside of him. He wants to keep seeing them. Keep earning them.

Tomorrow that might scare him.

Tonight—

His eyes fall closed when Tim’s fingers slide into his curls. The touch is achingly gentle. It feels— It feels good. Nice. Jason can’t help but lean into it. He thinks Tim’s hands linger a little longer than they need to, like he’s indulging Jason’s obvious enjoyment of the touch.

He does pull away eventually. Jason bites back his whine, instead sitting back up against the cushions.

“No bumps,” Tim murmurs. He gets out the penlight next, and cups Jason’s face as he shines a light first in one eye, and then the other. Jason grimaces, hissing a little as he squints. The light aggravates his aching head. “Pupil dilation is normal.” He pockets the light, and strokes Jason’s cheek with his thumb before he pulls away. “Now, I need to check your bruises.”

Jason bites his lip again. The constant worrying is starting to make the top layer of skin break and flake under his teeth. He averts his eyes, rolling the sleeves of the suit jacket up, exposing his hands. Then he pulls his shirt up, bunching it up just beneath his breasts.

His stomach jumps when Tim touches him. Tim pauses, hand hesitating, just barely touching Jason’s skin, and then— He starts to rumble, low and deep.

Jason whines. He doesn’t mean to—but it bursts from him; he can’t stop it, can’t muffle it. It’s a soft, helpless little keen, and the alpha’s rumble gets louder in response. He scoots closer, until he’s between Jason’s knees. His hand settles onto Jason’s skin, curving around his side. His other hand comes to cup Jason’s shoulder, thumb rubbing gentle circles through his clothes.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, the rumble deepening his voice. The sound—

Jason has only vague memories of his father rumbling for him, from when he was much, much smaller. Before working as a henchman had stolen much of his father’s good will. Other than that, Jason has only ever heard alphas rumble on TV. It’s—

It’s a really nice sound.

Against his will, tears fill his eyes, and he raises his hand, pressing his palm over one, like he can force them back inside. Tim’s hand settles against his side, just underneath the bruising. “You’re alright,” the alpha murmurs. “It’s okay to cry, pup.”

Jason sniffs, loud in the quiet. “I—I—”

“Shh, puppy.” Tim’s hand doesn’t leave Jason as he rises, slipping onto the couch beside him. His other hand cups the back of Jason’s head, tugging him forward—Jason’s arms come up automatically, wrapping around Tim’s neck, his shirt falling back over his abdomen. The alpha’s scent drips with comfort and the promise of protection and Jason—

He feels… He feels warm, and safe, and—

A sob rattles through his chest. Tim holds him closer, tighter, his arm winding around Jason’s waist. He buries his nose in Jason’s curls, stroking his skin with his thumb as he rocks him, slowly.

Jason’s chest heaves. His whole body shakes with each sob, so much that Jason is worried he’s going to shake himself apart. Tim’s steady hold feels like all that’s keeping him together.

It’s not just the last few days, it’s— It’s everything, since his Mom got sick and Dad turned to working as henchman and their lives just… fell apart. He’s— Jason’s been on his own for so long. Longer even than he’s been on the streets. Every day has been a fight for survival and Jason—

Honestly, he thought he’d finally lost.

Tim murmurs in his ear. Jason can’t hear a word of what he’s saying, but the tone is low and gentle, and Jason clings to it.

It takes a long time for Jason’s sobs to subside. Jason— He doesn’t know how long exactly. But he does know that when he’s done he feels exhausted. He slumps into Tim’s chest, tremors still running down his spine. His face is sticky. He definitely got snot all over Tim’s nice shirt, and that—

He’s too tired to even worry about Tim’s reaction.

Fingers comb through his hair again, lightly scritching his scalp. He lets out a soft sigh, slumping even more against the alpha’s chest.

Tim hums. He noses at Jason’s temple; a gentle nudge Jason grumbles at. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I still need to look at your bruises.”

Jason whines—the same plaintive little puppy whine he used to give his mom when he wasn’t ready to get up yet, for one reason or another. It makes Tim huff, amused; the humor reflected in his scent. It’s nice. Really nice.

He noses at Jason’s temple again. “Pup.” His voice is a little more stern. It’s not threatening, though—doesn’t even make Jason’s hackles raise. Tim is still rumbling. Close as they are, it feels like it’s seeping into Jason’s bones. It lessens the ache in him. His skin— His skin has been itchy for years, but. The creepy crawling of it has subsided, for now at least.

He’s comfortable. Jason doesn’t want to move.

He does anyway, sitting back with a scowl on his face. It makes Tim smile—his scowl deepens.

“I’ll be quick,” Tim promises.

Jason huffs a little. He leans back against the couch cushions. Tim’s hand is still under his shirt, sliding back over to the injured side as Jason lifts it. He feels— He feels more settled now. Less nervous, though butterflies still flutter between his ribs.

Jason watched Tim’s fingers probe gently around the bruising. The purple has started to fade to a greenish hue, but it still hurts when he prods it. Jason’s quiet, pained noises are soothed with soft rumbles and fingers rubbing his shoulders.

When he’s done, Tim’s hand lingers, laying casually on his waist. Jason’s skin would normally be prickling, but—

It isn’t.

It hasn’t this whole time, any time the alpha touched him.

“I don’t feel any cracks or breaks. Did— Were there any injuries to your back?” He’s no longer rumbling.

Jason misses it already. There’s a part of him that wants to snuggle up to him, see if he can’t coax that rumble back out.

He ignores it; instead shaking his head. “No. They— The, um, the boss said they were supposed to keep me as uninjured as possible. Any punishment had to be careful not to leave a mark.”

Tim hums. He strokes Jason’s skin with his thumb, and then slips his hand from Jason’s waist. It—

Jason finds that he misses it.

Tim leans forward, finally opening the first aid kit. It’s stocked, full of things Jason has names for and things he doesn’t. Tim takes out two things: the first, a small jar, and the second, a bottle of puppy’s Tylenol. Jason—he doesn’t like it, but he can’t really argue with it. Not at his size and weight and everything. They’re pills, at least, and chewable too,

Jason examines them carefully before he takes them, washing away the chalky flavor with the drink he’d been given before.

Tim unscrews the lid of the jar. The cream inside smells herbal, though not unpleasantly so. Jason holds out his arm, relaxing into the couch as the alpha works the cream into his skin.

It’s easy to let his eyes fall half-lidded. Jason is warm and sleepy. The air is thick with protective alpha scent; it soothes his hind-brain, the part that is purely omega, purely pup and longing for the comfort and safety of pack.

A small voice in the back of his mind is screaming, telling him he needs to keep his guard up.

It’s easy to ignore like this. To focus on nothing but gentle hands on his skin and the ambient noise around him; the hum of electricity and the distant noise of outside traffic.

Jason drifts.

He barely registers when the alpha switches arms, coming back up only to croon confusedly when Tim stops touching him. He blinks up at him, and gets a kind smile in return.

“Hush, pup,” the alpha soothes. “I’m going to get us something to eat.”

Jason blinks slowly at him and hums in acknowledgment. Tim gets a blanket from—somewhere, and lays it over him. It’s soft. Jason likes it. He nuzzles into it, into more of the alpha’s scent, and sighs.

He can hear Tim moving around in the kitchen—the clatter of dishware and pans, the bubbling of boiling liquid, the sound of his soft footsteps. He can smell something savory—chicken, he thinks, and garlic.

He drifts again, stirring only when Tim nudges him gently. A steaming bowl of soup is pressed into his hands.

“It’s hot,” Tim warns, a bit unnecessarily.

Jason still burns his tongue on the first mouthful. He doesn’t care. Having the food in front of him has made him realize how ravenous he is. His bowl is empty far too soon, though he’s too stuffed to go back for seconds.

His empty bowl is taken from him, and then Tim returns again. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I’ve got a spare toothbrush you can use. A spare den, too. I’ll get you some nesting materials and pajamas while you brush your teeth.”

Jason reluctantly leaves the couch and blanket behind, shuffling down the hall and into the bathroom. Tim procures a toothbrush for him, and then leaves.

It’s a relief to brush his teeth.

His captors had done it for him, so rough his gums had bled and ached. They still bleed under Jason’s gentle ministrations, but at least it doesn’t hurt. By the time he’s rinsing his mouth, Tim has returned, a bundle in his arms. He offers it to Jason.

“Clothes,” he says, a little unnecessarily.

Jason takes them, and Tim leaves again, giving him privacy. Jason goes to shut the door and then—

Hesitates.

He doesn’t want it open. But— He doesn’t…

What if he shuts it, and it won’t open again?

He’s. He’s being silly.

There’s no way this apartment has more than one bathroom. Trapping Jason inside here would be dumb, and he doesn’t think this alpha is dumb.

Jason takes a deep breath. He shuts the door.

Except—

He doesn’t. The latch hits the frame and Jason stops. His heart thunders in his ears. His breaths come sharper, quicker. He can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Tears burn in his eyes.

It’s not fair.

He rests his head against the frame; one hand cradling the bundle of clothes to his chest, the other gripping the doorknob.

God. He’s so fucking pathetic.

He shudders. Takes a deep breath. It shakes on his exhale, a tremor in his chest. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to shut it all the way. He can leave it like this, with the metal latch over the door frame, only the tiniest sliver of hallway visible.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.

Jason strips quickly, clothes falling into a puddle at his feet. He yanks on the pants the alpha provided. They’re a little short at the ankle, and he has to draw the drawstrings all the way out for them to stay up, but. They fit well enough.

The shirt, too, is a little big, hanging off slightly at one shoulder. It doesn’t show his breasts, and hangs down to his mid-thigh, so Jason doesn’t mind.. Both pants and tee are soft on his skin, not scratching like the other set did.

There’s a hamper. Jason drops his old clothes in, though he’d much rather see them in a dumpster somewhere. The jacket—

Jason hadn’t realized how much it had been comforting him until now. Without it, he feels almost naked. Exposed. He wants to put it back on again. He resists the urge, though. Instead, he straightens it as best he can, then folds it in half and lays it on top of the hamper before he exits the bathroom.

Tim isn’t in the living room any more, and Jason stands, nibbling on his lip. Maybe he should go for the door… but. He can’t bring himself to. Instead he stands there, uselessly, until he hears rustling further down the hall.

He approaches tentatively, and finds Tim in the den at the end of the hall.

Tim glances up when he hears Jason approach, and smiles a little. “I was just getting out some nesting materials,” he says, gesturing.

In front of him is a cushioned nest base, held off the ground by a wooden frame. Piled on top of it is—

Jason had been expecting maybe a couple of blankets and some pillows, but—

The blankets are piled tall; the one on top Jason recognizes as the blanket he’d been using on the couch. There are plenty of pillows, too—and padding, for added layers, and cushions, and, it’s… It’s a lot.

Jason’s throat feels a little tight. “Thanks,” he says, voice small.

“Of course, pup,” Tim says gently. He’s pulled his scent in tight now, but when he draws nearer, Jason catches a whiff of safehere and everythingsokay drifting off of him. His hand moves slow enough it would be easy for Jason to avoid it, but. He stays still, letting the alpha brush his knuckles over his cheek.

“Goodnight, pup,” he murmurs. “If you need me, I’ll be just down the hall.”

Jason nods. The alpha’s hand drops, and then he leaves.

The rest of the den… It’s not bare, but it lacks a personal touch. There’s a chest of drawers in the corner closest to the closet; a nightstand by the nest; and curtains hanging over the window. He shuffles further in, leaving the door open behind him.

He leaves the nest alone for now. Instead—

He goes for the closet first, opening the door. It’s bare inside, except for a thin layer of dust. Jason shuts it again. He opens the drawers, as quietly as he can. Empty as well. The den smells— Not stale, it’s definitely been used before, but. He catches the barest hints of alpha scent, and other than that… It just smells clean.

Jason rubs at his eyes.

No more putting it off.

As much as he doesn’t want to… Jason doesn’t shut the door all the way. Instead, just like in the bathroom, he leaves it open the tiniest sliver. Anything more, and he won’t be able to sleep. Anything less—

Panic.

Even the thought makes his heart race.

Jason rubs his face. He hates this. He hates it so much. Fuck. Sometimes it feels like life is just out to get him. Like—someone or something out there wants him to suffer.

Stop it. Plenty of people have it worse than you do, he scolds himself. He’s safe right now, or— He has the illusion of safety, at least. The alpha is being nice. Jason is— He’s not bound up. The door isn’t locked. There are no bars on the window. Tim treated his injuries. Held him when he cried. Gave him food and something to drink and soft clothes.

And he’d given Jason plenty of material to make a nice, comfortable nest to den in. One that might finally satisfy the instincts that have been screaming at him.

Jason takes a breath, and pads over to the nest. The sheer amount of material before him is almost overwhelming, but… He goes through it slowly. He starts with the padding, layering it into the nest base and using the cushions to help give it shape. He tests it as he goes, until he has something that’s plush, but not so much that it will engulf him. He works a nest cover over it. It’s a bit of a struggle to get it on, but Jason manages; only a little winded by the end. What padding and cushions he didn’t use—

He decides to put them in the closet, where they’ll be out of the way.

Blankets next.

Jason sorts through the pile slowly, rubbing each on his cheek. Scenting them. The one he used on the couch is the strongest scented; still thick with the contentment he’d felt in the alpha’s arms, and the protective, comforting scent Tim had drenched the air with.

He ends up using a little over half of the blankets Tim provided. The rest he puts in the closet.

Pillows—

Jason doesn’t use as many of them. He ends up putting most of them in the closet. And then, finally—

His nest is done.

He stands back, surveying his handiwork. He trills with pride, running his hand over the edge. His nest is soft. Cozy. It needs— It needs books. And— His fox. He misses his fox, the one his mom gave him. He kept it— He managed to keep it safe, all this time.

It’s probably gone now. Or ruined.

His eyes sting, and he swipes at them roughly.

Jason is so tired of crying.

He climbs into bed, pulling the blankets over and around him, snuggling down into the pillows. It feels—

Safe.

There’s something missing, though. Jason— He’s not sure what it is, but—

He’ll worry about it in the morning.

[unboundprompts]

hellooo!! i was wondering if you had any royalty themed title ideas? ive been wracking my brain for a while, and i haven't been able to come up with anything that stuck. thank you so much, i love your posts !!!

Royalty Themed Title Ideas

-> feel free to edit as you see fit.

The Weight of the Crown

The Crown's Shadow

The Throne's Burden

The Silent Reign

The Hidden Heir

The Queen's Labyrinth

Shadows of the Silver Court

Echoes from the Throne Room

The Fading Crest

The Prince's Enchanted Heart

The Crowned Lover's Promise

A Kingdom of Two Hearts

The Royal Affair

A Love Written in Gold

The Royal Illusion of Love

[dumplingsjinson]

Hi! I don't know if you've done this already but will you do dialogue prompts for close friends who start having feelings for each other? Thanks!

List of “so like… I’ve got the feels for you. now what?” prompts 

“This song reminds me of you.” “…It’s a love song.” “Yeah, exactly.” 

“I think I might need to be hospitalised for possible heart abnormalities, or possibly cardiac arrest.” “What, why? Are you okay? You look okay—” “No, because my heart keeps beating the fuck out of my chest when I’m around you and I don’t know what kind of disease I’ve come down with and frankly, I’m really scared.” 

“You’re looking a lil’ different these days.” “Different how?” “I don’t know, I just… You look less shitty?” “…Wow. Thanks a bunch, that’s greatly appreciated.” “No, I didn’t mean it that way, damn it— I’m not the best with dishing out compliments.”

“Is it just me or are things a little awkward between us lately?” “What do you mean, nothing’s awkward between us. Like, at all! We’re, like, super cool buddies. What could be awkward about that?” “Everything about that was awkward.” 

“Is it weird that I’ve been wanting to hold your hand lately or…?”

“Someone’s been slipping notes into my locker and they’re so, so sweet and I wish I knew who has been doing this.” “Oh, yeah? That’s… That’s very nice of them.” “Their handwriting’s a little suspicious, though. Familiar, you know? They look kind of like yours.” “…Oh. Well, uh… That can’t be.”

“Who do you like?” “…You know them very well.” “Usually that’s not a very good sign but with you? That’s… That’s a great sign. Is it me?” 

“You asshole, you’ve stolen something of mine. What the hell? Who gave you the permission? The audacity.” “What did I steal?” “My heart, dumbass.” 

“You know, on second thoughts… I… We could be pretty good together, I think. I don’t know. I could be wrong. Or I could be so fucking right that we end up getting married and I whisk you away into the sunset and to our foreverland. The choice is yours.” 

“Okay, fuck, I’m not flirting for fun. This isn’t me being friendly, either. I’m flirting for real. I’m flirting to get cuffed. And frankly, I want to be cuffed by you.” “…Oh.”

[spotsandsocks]

Oh spots, my spots!

For the made up title ask: “Time and Tides”

Tea and hugs to my spotty one ❤️

Well let me think, now I do like an AU as ya know so… 2 options occur to me

Mermaid or pirate au to start with but maybe a combo …. Late teens Eddie the son of a pirate dynasty shipwrecked /overboard saved by Buck a young merprince of the ocean.

Takes him to cave/cove looks after him until he’s well again Buck in human form (we can change at will here for max of 8?? hours in a row I think for plot reasons)

Eddie has to get home to his son Buck arranges this and they part. Eddie asks hi r come too thinking he’s living alone Buck can’t go obviously.

Time passes eddie becomes captain with Chris rest of 118 as crew Buck has seen his ship over the years. Followed him onto shore once or twice making and maintaining a ‘something’ between them that grows with time

Then start hearing stories about a Merman who has been captured (distinctive mark on face) Eddie works it out and rescue attempt ensues …. More plot possible cos it’s me!

[writing-for-whoever-listens]

Random Prompts 7:

These are all chapter titles I just wrote, please enjoy!

for what is a god to a woman? for what is a woman to a god?

a moment of passion with you would be worth endless riches

why not indulge when the opportunity arises?

looking out at the world through gilded bars is not living; it is just being alive

i would stay forever if it meant i never had to leave you alone

but i am not a woman, nor a man. i am myself, is that not enough?

time is fleeting, much like existence is

there is no pain like that of a hurting woman; and no worse pain than when she hurts you

she is tired, yet you force her to move, to work, to dance

i was not meant to be yours, but i will gladly be for as long as you shall have me

leaning against your shoulder has strengthened mine, if you should ever need it

anyone can be unhappy; everyone can be ridden with sorrows

harboring secrets hurts everyone once the truth is revealed

the bond betwixt siblings shall be beyond understanding by those without

love is an emotion, a feeling, a force, a physical reaction, a mental drug; love is eternal and fleeting, and oh so cherished