#prompts! yay

[bloodydifficult]

Land of raw magic, nightmares, and this apparently.

[snufkins-boot]

Dc x Do prompt: co-parenting but one party doesn’t know it’s co-parenting

So when Damian first became Robin he would purposefully hide injuries, thinking it was a sign of weakness. So he was bleeding out and then just some… guy?? Walks up and is like ‘hey kid you’re bleeding, you want me to bandage that?’ And at first Damian says no but then the guy says that he won’t tell anyone… and well.

So Danny moved to Gotham with a de-aged Dan and Ellie and just found some kid bleeding on his roof. So he bandaged the kid up and keeps the door unlocked so he can leave when he wants.

Side effect: this kid will also come through the open door. Even when Bruce returns Damian will go to Danny when he’s injured or upset because unlike Drake and Grayson, Danny has no judgement to anything he says. You could tell Danny you killed someone and he’d just say ‘real’.

Dan and Ellie also love him and have been attempting to learn to sword fight from Damian with those styrofoam swords you get out of flying tiger for a fiver.

Does Bruce know? Probably not at first. And then he finds out, and then it’s the grumpy grunts because his son trusts this guy more than him and he’s a little butt hurt. So he tried to replace Danny and Damian isn’t having it and will still go to Danny.

Anyway this is just a long way to say Danny and Bruce kiss 👍

[nibbelraz]

Modern Cumplane as BESTIES! and what do best friends do? Edit harem novels during a hang out! (And maybe one of us takes a nap on the floor...)

Prompt is for @yuujispinkhair for SvsssAction!

Thank you so much for your donation, and I hope you like it 🫶

[couch-house]

@year-of-the-echidna for this week's prompt: GIRL. <- HER!!!!

[jesuistrestriste]

sage. my flight got delayed AGAIN. i’m not getting back to school til late, i have an assignment due tomorrow i haven’t finished…may i please request some Mickey 17 stuff? smut or fluff or angst idc i miss that little guy:(

⭑.ᐟ cw (18+) : dry humping, tiny bit of fluff —

mickey’s body is a mess.

he’s just been reprinted for the twelfth time, his limbs slimy and his blood whooshing erratically through his veins as he’s sat up on the cold table. the familiar scientists poke and prod at his skin while they scribble hurried little notes in their pads of paper. his head spins badly whenever he gets propped up fresh out of the machine, but he still manages to immediately think of you.

where you’re at right now, what you’re doing, who you’re with.

he can’t do anything until the people in the lab are ready to let him go though, releasing him until the next agonizing experiment needs his lungs or his heart or his brain. sometimes it’s funny because they’re ready to kick him out the door before his legs are ready to be used, like a mother bird kicking her baby out of the nest before its ready to fledge. regardless, they’re usually pretty quick about finishing their post-printing examinations. and he can use the spare minutes while they’re working on him to think about what he’s gonna do when he finally gets to see you again.

the sting of his new cells adjusting to the atmosphere is drowned out by thoughts of pressing his lips to yours, trying out one of the stupid sex positions you and him made up on one of the tablets, running his hands over your warm flesh. he sighs.

one time—a few bodies ago—you had sucked him off when it had only been about 30 minutes since the reprinting, and you’d told him that his come tasted like plastic and sterilized metal. (which was weird because his body was supposed to be biologically the same as the last, so shouldn’t he have tasted normal? whatever. didn’t matter. you had swallowed. you had licked the rest of it into his mouth afterwards. it did taste artificial.)

the people surrounding him eventually scampered off and he assumed his freedom, got dressed, and slinked off and out. he walked through the hallways and listened to the sound of his heavy shoes hitting the flooring. climbed the stairs to the rooms, then slid open your door to find you laid on your bed. his chest sags with relief.

you smile at him. god, that smile. he can’t help but shut the door in a hasty effort and crawl up on top of you. your guys’ dark colored jumpsuits slide together. its only a tiny spark of friction, but its enough.

his body is always extra sensitive after coming out of the machine; he always feels like a virgin again, not that he’s had much sex in general. he feels your hand over his hip, and he shudders.

“mmgh,” he breathes into your neck, stiff and shaky, “i missed you.”

“missed you too. it’s only been a day and a half, but i really, really missed you,” you whisper against his jaw.

he loves how you can be just as clingy as him sometimes. you even beat him at his own game on occasion, sticking to his side like a glob of glue, but he blames the fact that you only get to see him during select parts of the day. with your duties and his expendable work.. it’s tough. you both take what you can get, and as much of it as you’re allowed. and that usually also means getting handsy as soon as you’re together.

you feel him rock down against your thigh involuntarily, reflexively, chasing a brewing feeling in his stomach. your fingers run through his brown hair, and you bite your lip when it elicits a whimper from him.

“already, mick?” you hum teasingly, the tips of your digits scratching the back of his scalp, just the way he likes it, “don’t you wanna go down and eat first?”

he chokes around a moan when he starts to hump the most perfect spot on your leg, just enough muscle there to give him something to work against. his hands find fabric of your suit, slipping under your back next as he keens. he feels a rush of warmth coat his cock, and then he feels a dribble of something start to leak from his tip.

“don’t wanna eat.. not really hungry..” he gasps, his brow pinched up now in the shadows of the crook of your body, “this.. you.. this feels so good, i don’t wanna stop..”

you tilt your head slightly and then lift your leg under him to press it further against his bulging crotch. a sharp cry spills from his lips. you pet his hair again. he’s like a puppy sometimes—a needy, possessive dog that looks up to you like you’re something to be worshipped. you can’t get enough.

“okay, well, i snuck you some food anyways, its in my—“

mickey cuts you off, crashing his lips to yours with a hunger that’s almost unlike him. he usually wants you to lead (much preferring following your directions). his tongue seeks yours desperately, flattening over your own once he gets access. you have to swallow down all the little noises he’s making as he starts to thrust his clothed appendage against your body quicker. the movement of his snapping hips is building a warmth between all of the layers.. you wouldn’t exactly be surprised if he burned a hole right through with all the rubbing he’s doing. you lovingly slide a hand over his lower back in an attempt to soothe his frantic movements, but it doesn’t quite work. he breaks from the kiss, body jolting, to look down to your face and hiccup. expression all crumpled and contorted and flushed with an orgasm that he’s almost got clutched in the palm of his hand. eyes glazed over and jaw slacked like he’s high on pure oxy from timo. just a disaster of a man. and to think—a hunk of machinery and a brick of his memories brought him back to life less than an hour ago. birthed him, really. everything about him in this moment is so primal. you can’t shake the need to mark your territory, just in case he’s forgotten somehow.

“easy, easy.. you’re all mine for the rest of the night anyways.. i don’t care what they want, they’re not taking you from me tonight..”

and that’s all it takes.

just those sweet, possessive words pouring like thick honey into his ears, and then he’s gone. easy as that.

his eyes roll back, his head drops to your shoulder, his length spasms in his new underwear, then he’s coming. it happens as quick as you can blink.

“aah! im.. im—!”

he heaves through the uncontrollable waves of pleasure that bloom and spread throughout his nervous system, rendering him a trembling heap on top of you. if it weren’t for the remaining strength in his biceps, he’d collapse and probably fall like dead weight over your chest. he gives a few more shaky rolls of his hips as he rides out the prickling aftershocks of overstimulation. “f-fuck, ohh, ngh..”

then he really does slump over you. lowering himself slowly over your frame so as to not crush you. there’s something tender about the way he moves to ensure your comfort, even when he’s so wrecked, and it makes you instinctively wrap your arms around him. he sniffles while he catches his breath.

“s-sssorry,” the word broken up lazily as he struggles to bring himself back to the reality of your touch, “mmn.. jus’ felt so good, and you smell so nice, and i just couldn’t..” he trails off, shaking his head as he feels his body begin to overheat.

a little laugh bubbles up and out at his incoherency. then your hand over his upper back snakes down to playfully squeeze his rear. he sucks in a gasp and then chuckles into your skin as he squirms.

“s’fine, i like watching you finish like that.”

he chews the inside of his cheek like gum. you can almost feel his lashes flutter against your pulse point.

“felt like i wasn’t myself for a second..”

it’s a joke, one twinged with a bit of shame and guilt, you know that, but it doesn’t feel like one. each time he gets reprinted, a part of him changes—gets stripped away and plastered over with something new. you don’t always mind, but it does make you question which mickey you’ll get next time. will he be soft and kind? blunt and impulsive?

at the end of the day, you suppose it doesn’t matter much.

“you’ll always be my mickey.”

he lets out a weighted sigh of relief for the second time in the past thirty minutes since he’s been back in your presence, and it’s almost like you can feel the very last of the tension drain from his pores. he only whispers two more words against your ear before he finds his own hands wandering your body, eager to reciprocate and prove that he’s still useful. he owes it to you for loving him through it all.

“yeah.. yours.”

[babyblankyerror]

Thinking about Fidds wife being a psychologist and she talks to him about how sad she is that one of her patients, that needed quite a lot of help and others kept mistreating him at the facility, ran away.

Fidds and her go visit Ford and she freaks because he looks exactly like her patient??? But like??? Put togetherish??

If you want Stan to already be there and it's not a search for stan thing: Stan pops out, sees her and now they're both freaking out. He immediately runs away because that's a mind doctor which is bad.

[arttuff]

thank you to Katrina for donating to the DC for Gaza ROUND TWO!

the prompt was for trans woman clark kent!! <3

Find out more, or donate to get your own fanart HERE: https://dcforgaza.carrd.co/

[numbuh424]

hi @grimalkinmessor ! I'm your secret santa :>

drew you some terraito for your @dnsecretsanta gift, I hope you like it 🖤🍎

[thatbuddie]

How about buddie + 34 for the things you said prompts?

I love your writing! Thanks for sharing it!!

Eddie’s breath tickles the side of Buck’s face when Eddie leans in to whisper, “I bet they think I’m whispering something dirty to you right now.”

A giggle escapes Buck’s lips before he thinks of pressing them together to muffle the sound. He can feel his already red cheeks —it’s a warm LA night, he’s been goofily dancing around for hours, and he’s already on his fourth drink�� flushing even deeper, the color probably visible from Jupiter, Saturn, or some planet even further away than those. Like Pluto, even.

“Your blush is probably making them think it’s something really dirty,” Eddie keeps whispering, his words a hot breeze against Buck’s ear.

“Eddie,” Buck complains, pushing against Eddie’s shoulder in chastisement. Or well, Buck tries to complain. And he tries to push against Eddie’s shoulder. Really, what he does is more similar to whining Eddie’s name and brushing his fingertips against Eddie’s shoulder before he loses his balance a little, tripping over nothing and needing Eddie to wrap his arms around his waist to hold his weight up when Buck slumps against him.

“Oh, now they totally think we’re planning on finding some dark corner where we can have sex,” Eddie says, his lips buried against Buck’s neck, his words practically bitten into Buck’s jugular.

“Maybe we should.” Buck nuzzles his nose against Eddie’s shoulder, taking a deep inhale and letting the smell of Eddie’s good cologne wrap around every one of his cells.

“No, that isn’t how we’re having our first time,” Eddie says, pulling back from Buck’s neck so he can look him in the eye. One of his arms has untangled from Buck’s torso so he can use it to point his index finger at him. Maybe it’s supposed to be a warning, but Buck takes it as an invitation to lean forward and bite it. Unfortunately, his reflexes aren’t at their best, so he ends up just biting the air when Eddie moves his hand away from him.

“It would hardly be our first time.”

Eddie rolls his eyes used the same tantalizing finger to bop Buck on the nose. “You know what I mean, idiot. Our first time as a married couple.”

Married couple.

The two words send a shiver down Buck’s spine that has him lightly trembling in Eddie’s arms. The arm around Buck’s waist tightens minutely as Eddie’s other arm hand settles against the side of Buck’s face, his thumb resting on Buck’s bottom lip.

“Married couple,” Buck says, awe and incredulity and joy and giddiness and affection dripping from his voice.

Eddie taps his thumb against Buck’s bottom lip once.

“Married couple,” he echoes, awe and incredulity and joy and giddiness and affection dripping from his voice as well.

Buck has been dreaming about this day for so long —before he even truly consciously knew he was dreaming about it— that he’s a little bit afraid this is still part of that fantasy. That the whole ceremony —the walk down the aisle next to Maddie, hearing Bobby’s speeches as he officiated for them, exchanging their vows—, and the celebration —letting Chris be the one to cut the cake, performing the ridiculous dance they practiced for months in front of everyone, receiving so many hugs mixed with congratulations— have just been a figment of Buck’s overactive imagination. Perhaps a second go at a coma dream.

“We’re married,” Eddie says, using his grip on Buck’s face to bring it forth, resting their foreheads together.

And well, if Buck is dreaming, he couldn’t care less as long as no one ever wakes him up. He’ll be asleep forever and ever. They can give him some kind of cool nickname about it, like Snoozing Handsome. Or el Apuesto Mr. Siestas.

Unable to resist for one second longer, Buck crashes his mouth against Eddie’s. It’s not a very elegant move but it’s effective, as it gets Buck’s tongue in Eddie’s mouth and Eddie’s tongue in his.

Cheers erupt all around them. Boos also erupt all around them. Buck relishes in both, feeling just as loved hearing the rejoicing as he does suffering through the teasing.

Way too soon, Eddie pulls away from the kiss, but he does not go far. He pulls Buck closer, hugging him so tightly it feels like he’s trying to fit his ribs in between Buck’s own.

Turning his head just an inch, Eddie whispers in Buck’s ear, “I love you so fucking much.”

Buck giggles, his heart doing somersaults inside his chest.

“Also, I am going to fuck you so hard tonight you won’t remember anything but your new name, Mr. Diaz.”

[corwynnasmith]

Random writing prompt I want to read:

Fire hazard siblings Zuko and Azula getting along and Zuko has One Brain Cell and Azula has Two but they have to work together to overthrow their father because neither of them wants the other one to die.

KEY POINT: Neither of them have talked about it and neither is willing to admit either of them wants to overthrow their father so they just keep strategically "messing up" and being weirdly cool with the other one also fucking up constantly. Outsider POVs don't know what to think lmfao

[thingsthatgowhumpinthenight]

Time for another Whump This or That! :)

Whumpee wincing as Caretaker applies healing salve OR sighing in obvious relief

Feverish nightmares OR awake and tripping balls delirious

Caretaker massaging Whumpee's stiff aching shoulders OR their sore aching feet

Post-rescue longtime suffering Whumpee being assisted by Caretaker to take their first bath/shower in ages OR the moment when Caretaker helps them settle comfortably into a warm soft bed

Caretaker gently pressing an ice pack onto Whumpee's injuries OR making them a hot water bottle for muscle/stomach pain

Whumpee being comforted by a food or drink they've never tried before while sick/injured/whatever (eg: never had ginger tea but finds it soothing once they're given some) OR being given something that brought them comfort as a child (eg: used to get graham crackers as a treat when they were sick so Caretaker gets them some)

[screamlet]

12. Just waking up for the bucktommy cuddling prompts?

thank you for the prompt!! the han-buckley-kinard family at the beach, 450ish words.

---

Tommy wakes up on the beach to the sound of the ocean and a camera shutter. When he opens his eyes, it's to Jee-yun and her little instant camera that spits out color photos. It takes a minute for Tommy to realize that they had fallen asleep; he's tipped off as she giggles and runs away, shrieking for her mom and dad.

"Oh no," Tommy moans. "We fell asleep in the sun."

"Yeah, and it was awesome," Evan replies, his eyes still closed and his voice sleep-rough.

"Evan, we're at the beach. You know what moves around the beach? The fucking sun."

Evan cracks an eye open. He's firmly wrapped around Tommy, head on his shoulder, arm thrown across his chest. "How burned are we?"

"Bad," Tommy says. "But the pattern, it's something else."

That's when Howie ambles over, sunglasses on and chewing gum at work. He stares at them both and bursts out laughing as he takes out his phone.

Tommy rolls his eyes. "I've got, like. Your imprint burned onto my body."

"You sure do," Howie replies. "Hey, I'm taking a video, say something about how embarrassing this Buck-shaped tan is gonna be for the rest of the summer."

"You won't have to worry about it when I drown you," Tommy says.

"Be quiet, I'm still sleeping," Evan says.

Howie shakes his head. "Nah, get up, we're heading back to the beach house and you're both gonna beg for the aloe vera before the day's over."

"Okay," Evan says, not at all listening. "Are we still getting lobster rolls for dinner?"

"At least move the umbrella," Howie says. "Here, I'll do it for you, idiots."

"Stay," Evan demands, his limbs tightening around Tommy. "I'm more important than sunburn."

Howie finishes adjusting the tilt of their umbrella so they're back in the shade. When he's gone, Tommy sighs and curls closer to Evan, letting himself get engulfed again. He presses a kiss to his forehead and closes his eyes, successfully nodding off until Jee runs back with two cans of sunblock and sprays them.

"Jee," Evan whines. "I was sleeping."

"Mommy said I had to or you'd get skin cancer," Jee says, sounding out the phrase skin cancer very carefully. "What's that?"

"Don't worry about it," Evan groans. "Here, spray me down."

"This is fun," Jee says to Tommy.

"Sure is," Tommy says, shaking his own can of sunblock and counting Jee down. "Close your mouth, Evan, there's a lot of SPF 50 coming your way."

Evan looks over the edge of his sunglasses. "And then we can nap some more?"

Tommy sprays him square on the chest and smiles. "Only if you hold still."

[its-kinda-snowy]

My entry in the @reanimator-holiday-gift-exchange for the amazing @heliojip !!! This was such a blast to work on; I think they deserve to be a bit fluffy imho

[writersbloxx]

Can you write a body language for scared/afraid? Like fear or something

Body Language

when someone is...

Afraid

Face/Body:

Sweating

Trembling

Shortness of breath/hyperventilating

Frowning/grimacing

Chest pain, tightness, and rapid heartbeat

Hot flashes

Chills

Clenched jaw

Narrowed eyes

Lip biting

Voice:

Shaking/quivering

Strained

Clipped and tightly-drawn

Voice cracks

Whispered/quiet or hushed tone

Timid

Stuttering/blubbering

Speaking faster or slower than normal

Gestures/Posture:

Fidgeting (hands + feet, restless movement)

Rocking/swaying or leaning

Rigid/tense posture

Clenched fists

Convulsive movements

Freezing up or backing away

[villainousauthor]

The Villain had them pinned, as despite how much Hero struggled. Another teasing line falls from their lips.

"You look so pretty when you're angry." Villain purrs. They loved to tease, a way to get under Hero's skin, to agitate. They refuse on principle to give Hero what they want, a serious fight. It's from pure stubbornness that their flirty comments come, a simple desire to throw them off.

"I swear to god, I'll rip your tongue from your mouth." Hero bites back. They glare at their nemesis above them, annoyed beyond belief. The way in which Villain refuses to drop the lighthearted teasing for even a moment is a constant thorn in their side, which is exactly why Villain won't.

Villain leans closer, their voice lowering to a quiet drawl, as their breath puffs against the shell of their ear. Hero feels a shiver up their spine.

"Such unbecoming things you always seem to say. Maybe we should find another use for your mouth." Villain doesn't mean it. Hero knows they don't mean it. They tell themselves every time they feel that same wave of heat in their gut that it's only words spoken to get a rise out of them.

This doesn't stop the shudder that overcomes them. Hero could easily pass it off as a reaction of fear, if it wasn't for the crimson flushing up their neck, and painting their cheeks.

Villain leans back, taking note of their reaction for perhaps the first time in all their spats. Their eyebrows raise ever so slightly.

"Oh. Oh, you like that." They smile a sly grin, knowing.

Their eyes meet Hero's as they stay silent for a long moment. Hero purses their lips shut, trying to seem still stern and irritated, but evidently failing judging by Villain's next response.

"I always loved to tease as a way to anger you. I always found it so humorous. However, I think I like this reaction a bit more." Their words are dripping with sultry intent, spoken lowly. "You're more twisted than I gave you credit for, darling. Maybe I can actually make good on my previous suggestion."

[dykekarkat]

for a prompt how about andreil + holding hands

“What the fuck is he doing?” Kevin mutters, glaring murderously into his coffee mug. 

Andrew ignores him, going through the meticulous process of making his coffee drinkable, before taking a sip with a small hum. 

Kevin glares at him, a clear “Is this your fault?” in his eyes. Andrew slurps obnoxiously in answer until Kevin backs down, muttering about the importance of practice before he shuffles out the door to bother someone else. 

Andrew puts his mug down as soon as the door closes behind him. It doesn’t taste the same, not when he’s making it himself because Neil never got out of bed for his run this morning. 

Despite himself, he heads back into their dorm room. Neil is dead asleep in his bunk, looking for all the world like a corpse except for the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Neil,” he says. Neil doesn’t stir. 

Andrew is not worried, but he drops a hand to finger Neil’s pulse anyway. It flutters normally against his fingers. 

“Neil,” he says again. This time, Neil stirrs, and Andrew carefully tucks the sigh of relief away and into his chest. 

“‘Ndrew?” Neil blinks heavy eyelids at him, as if it costs more effort than normal. 

A flicker of a frown crosses Andrew’s face, he moves his hand from Neil’s neck to his forehead as Neil watches with blurry eyes. 

“Time’sit?” His voice creaks like a badly oiled door hinge. 

Andrew removes his hand, “We’re not going to practice.” 

This, of course, jolts Neil into motion, “What?” 

Andrew pushes him back down, no resistance in Neil’s shaky body, “You’re sick. We’re staying here.” 

Andrew moves away from the bed. He needs water, Advil, and possibly a gatorade. He debates asking Nicky for his chicken soup recipe before deciding the questions wouldn’t be worth it. 

He’s stopped before he can take more than a step. Neil’s hand is clenched around his own, clammy with sweat that does nothing to hinder his grip. 

Andrew turns to face him slowly, catches the fear and then disgust that crosses his face, before Neil drops his hand like it burned him. 

“Sorry, sorry I didn’t– I’m sorry,” Neil gasps out. Andrew scowls, taking Neil’s hand back and lacing their fingers together before dropping onto the bed next to him. 

“Stop being an idiot,” Andrew says, his other hand moving to curl around the back of Neil's neck. 

Neil sags into his touch, curling into Andrew as he fights to breathe evenly. Andrew's chest clenches. He's still not used to how much feeling this idiot boy puts injects into his veins. Neil's face is tucked into Andrew's shoulder, and his lips brush skin as he speaks under his breath. 

“I'm sorry. She always left. I don't want you to leave,” Neil whispers. Hatred is a familiar feeling, his hatred towards Mary Hatford even moreso in recent months. 

He squeezes Neil’s hand, then his neck, using his hold to force Neil’s eyes up, “I’m not leaving.” It is a declaration made for more than this moment. Neil meets his gaze, eyes still a heady shock to Andrew’s sober system, before he squeezes Andrew’s hand back. 

Andrew nods sharply, once, before continuing, “Lay back down. We’re still not going to practice.” There’s frustration in Neil’s face, but it’s tempered by whatever mental gymnastics he’s been doing for the last few minutes. 

He lays down, still clutching Andrew’s hand in his own. He curls up on his side like that, knees pulled up towards his chest where Andrew’s hand remains cradled between Neil’s own. Neil presses a single soft kiss to the back of his palm, and Andrew ignores the burn of his ears. 

It’s not long before Neil is dead to the world once again, Andrew’s dominant hand held hostage as he types slowly away at his phone. 

When Aaron shows up after practice, a scowl on his face and a CVS bag in hand, neither of them have moved an inch.