#from prompt

[bruesselbach]

Muscle Castle

AI 3, 2024, oil on hemp, 12x18in.

Follow the link to the project statement - you can send me verbal prompts for future paintings now. Carefully, please.

[izzywhisker]

“attitude”

bunny that hugging each other so cute

Also on Deviantart: attitude by sporky123

[stuffandwonder]

We fall like flowers. A shower of cherry blossom, Caught in hair, dusting shoulders, Romantic and fading. Fragile and beautiful. Just newly budded, Innocent and soft, Not made to stay.

A showy blooming In the new-found heat of spring's sun, Easily shaken assunder, We eddy and whirl In the changable winds Of our undoing, Frolicking in the fickle fancies Of our naive flowering.

We fall like flowers, Brave and tender, Hopelessly caught up, Pure, and dying. Dancing all the way down, Joining the raindrops that fall like tears, And painting the pavement With loves first pink blush.

[deathbytitanium]

Tartan (boarding school) AU nessian Preppy rich kids

Promt list found Here!

So I read the request and immediately thought about Gossip Girls (because make no mistake I LOVE Gossip Girl) and I don’t know much about boarding school so I’m changing this AU to Prep School AU (I had another anon request tartan as well and I might write another one for them, emphases on might) and here it goes:

Prom.

For most seventeen or eighteen year olds prom was the highlight of one’s senior year. Not Shady Side in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Oh, no. At Shady (ironically the perfect euphemism for most of the internal dealings of the prestigious Academy,) prom was the occasion where one made a social statement of your young adult life. Legend told that who you took to prom singlehandedly determined the outcome of your entire professional life.

No pressure.

Anywho, Cassian’s mopey thoughts weren’t exactly for nothing. Well, for nothing, but because… he sighed, his girl was here with someone else. Don’t come with the whole “you’re being stupid, it’s just a high school thing” because they were different. Fuck, it sounded stupid even to him, but they loved each other so much.

It had been one of those hate to love stories. From Freshman to Junior year, they had been mortal enemies, fighting and bickering the entire time. Then during the summer break before Senior year they had accidentally encountered each other and… everything had changed. They’d connected on a level so deep he’d thought it was impossible, but there it had been and neither of them could deny it.

So Senior year they had debuted on the first day of school as a couple, to everyone else’s shock and their utter enjoyment. That was, until she’d insisted on introducing him to her parents, (though he had said he didn’t mind if they waited longer.)

It had been a disaster. Her mother, very vehemently disapproved of him in fact it had gone a bit like this: “Yes, he’s a very nice young man, but… Nesta, darling, he has no real prospects. The moment he finishes high school, what then? He has no inheritance, how would he support you? He’s not right for you and you have to break it off now before it gets serious. So help me God I will make you go to boarding school for the rest of the year.”

Nesta had gone into a screaming fit after that and he hadn’t been able to understand, but she’s come running out and pulling him out of the house. She’d cried that night, about everything she hated and how unfair it was. So, he’d just held her and told her it would be alright, that they could just keep things quiet.

She’d hated it, but that was what they’d done, it had been the only way for them to be together. And they had been.

When they went to apply for college? They’d done it together, they’d thought through their option, discussed their hopes and dreams. Screw all these stupid people, they were together for the long haul, they were going to Oxford and they were going there together.

So who cared that she’d come to this stupid party with some stupid trust fund, heir of a multi-million dollar enterprise idiot that probably didn’t know that she loved looking at the night sky and that she always said she thought he should have wings or that she loved sleeping in on Saturday’s and bossing him around just like you’d imagine a proper prep girl would. Or that she loved cuddling…

Screw all that personal stuff, this guy probably didn’t even know how she took her coffee (black, two sugars, large.)

The thing is it didn’t matter that he knew all that there was to know about her and that he loved her more than anything. He was always only going to be the ward of some rich guy, not the heir, just some sorry orphan that was lucky to be there. No matter that he had a trust fund and a college fund, that he played three different sports and had straight A’s. Nope, no one cared about that, only that his name wasn’t associated with a big company that made a trillion dollars annually.

Life was a total bitch.

He couldn’t even hold his girl and tell her she looked so fucking beautiful because her stupid mother had decided to chaperone the dance.

And why, exactly, was he here, then? For one, he wanted to see her tonight, he knew she was going to look like a supermodel. He was also in line for prom king, which he didn’t care about it but there was that. Honestly he was only here for the torture of being so close, yet so far from her.

She was up for prom queen, of course and there was no way she was losing. So hopefully, they’d get to dance together then. Wasn’t likely, he’d been up against Nesta’s date, after all and he was the full package.

And now here it was, they were going to announce the King and Queen of this thing.

They called him, Vanderblat (his girls date) and Prince (the quarterback of the football team) to stand in front of the stage. A few moments later, the headmaster just spit it out: “The King of the Shady Academy 2017 prom is Mr. Nathan Vanderblat.”

Then the girls replaced them, but the headmaster announced her name more quickly, “Miss Nesta Archeron, congratulations on winning Prom Queen 2017.”

And there she was, smiling in front of the crowd, receiving a crown, a bouquet of red flowers. Everything around him became white noise as he watched her, longed for her from his quiet little spot.

So when they announced the dance between the King and Queen he didn’t hear it, but he did see her, the way she looked out at him and shook her head, walking directly to him.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked as she came to him and wrapped herself around his body.

His arms closed around her as she answered, “Screw them Cassian, screw my mother, screw everything. She can’t keep me away from you anymore, we’re 18, we’ve graduated, we’re going to Oxford. And so help me goodness, I’m going to dance with my boyfriend at my prom.”

“I love you, Nesta.” He whispered to her as they danced, ignoring all the people looking at them.

“I love you, Cassian,” she whispered back, pulling him closer for a kiss.

Send me promts!

[ideaphage]

Would you go across the USA with your friend?

If my best friend showed up at random and said to get in their car to go accross the country, I would say yes, at the expense we might get into some trouble. But I yearn the adventure. I have never been able to really travel and I have passed a similar thing up before. I would love to see California and the Golden gate, see Hollywood, vagas and traverse some national tourist spots.

[isqueedmyself]

You Had to Go Giving Me Ideas....

From a prompt by @dumplingsjinson for “falling for someone you thought you’d never fall for, but here you are (you absolute fool)” Edited because this nonsense is now available on AO3. Would you believe that there's no tag on AO3 for this pairing LOL?

A Bad Idea

He smiled at her, his amber eyes twinkling, then touched his arm and vanished. Kate sank back into her office chair and blinked a few times. Once or twice she thought about moving, but then decided it was a bad idea.

Within three minutes, someone knocked at her door. It was Osgood, of course. Kate started to say "Come in," but decided that was a bad idea, too.

Osgood came in anyway.

"Sorry, marm," she said, "but security detected the signature of a vortex manipulator in here."

"I had a visitor," Kate told her.

"The Doctor? Captain Harkness?"

"No."

Osgood came around her desk and sat on it, her knees against Kate's armrest. Kate looked up at her, expecting more questions, but the girl just looked at her.

"I was sitting here being peeved with the sperm donor over the child maintenance, or lack thereof. It's not really an issue--the youngest only has a year or so to go--but the lad is hurt about it. Anyway, I looked up just as he appeared. No, not my son and not his father either. It was the Master, the one who was PM. He wanted to tell me that there's a Xilqov vessel incoming."

"What's that mean?" asked Osgood.

"I don't know," said Kate. "I don't even know if it's a bad thing."

"Okay."

"I told him that… the Master… and he smiled and said it all depended, depended on me. And then… then he kissed me."

"The Master kissed you?"

"Yeah." Kate drifted off in contemplation again, then pulled herself together. "Yes," she repeated. "He told me that idiot wasn't good enough for me, and then he kissed my forehead, and then the tip of my nose, and then… then my lips. I looked into his eyes and I thought…. anyway, he kissed my forehead again, and then he left."

"So this was nonconsensual kissing?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I liked it, Osgood. I really… liked it."

Kate looked up into Osgood's dark eyes. Missy had killed Osgood, killed her out of hand, and Missy was the Master, who had… who had kissed Kate out of hand.

"Well," said Osgood, "he's right about your ex. So what are we going to do now?"

"I… no, YOU are going to find out who or what Xilqov are and if they have a ship anywhere nearby."

"And you, marm?"

"I’m just going to sit here and contemplate the decisions I’ve made in life which have lead me to this point."

Osgood stood.

"Good choice," she said, and walked out the door.

[widenmyhips]

Prompt. Welcoming your doting husband home from work, you both try to out wholesome the other with showings of affection

Neither one of us would admit it was getting ridiculous.

It had started so harmlessly, with one day, getting home from work, you handed me an individually wrapped cookie, and I smiled up at you, confused.

“What?” you said, your hand sliding onto my belly, as it often did, now that I was a few months along and officially showing it. “I can’t just wanna treat my two gorgeous girls?”

I just smiled, unwrapping it and taking a bite.

You figured that would be it, or at least until you came home to find a freshly baked pie cooling on the stove, steaming and bubbling with syrup the color of wild blueberries, your favorite.

“Baby girl, what is this?” you asked.

My disembodied voice came back from the direction of the laundry room. “It’s for you. There’s vanilla ice cream in the freezer!”

“Why?”

My head peeked in from the hall, hair pulled into a mess of curls on top of my head. “Because I love you, why do you think?”

And it had only picked up from there. You got me a new dress, I bought you a new watch. You took a day off work, I planned us a full picnic lunch. You gave me a gift certificate to the spa, I secured you an in-home masseuse. As our baby grew, so did our daring.

You weren’t sure how this could go on the way it was. What else could you get? A trip to Paris? You wanted, of course, to treat me, but at more than eight months pregnant, the chances of just getting me out of the house were slim to none. You didn’t have to keep thinking about it, however, when you opened the front door and all thoughts left your head.

There I was, in all my pregnant glory. Standing in the living room, I looked divine, clothed in a flowing red robe of red chiffon, the nearly translucent fabric that was bunched at my wrists and the hem doing nothing to hide the beautiful swells of my curves. My full and swollen breasts, the perfect roundness of my belly, the widened and smooth curve of my hips. I hid a pleased smile when you dropped to your knees before me, parting the robe to grasp my thighs. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“What? I can’t just wanna treat my darling husband?"