#weekend prompts

[harper44]

Prompt: rhett unexpectedly stops at the creative house and finds link there in a dress and heels. Link confesses that he likes the way dressing up makes him feel and he just wanted a place to do it where he wouldn't be judged or have to answer any questions.

Love this concept, especially because of how hot Link looks in heels. 

Rhett opens the door of the creative house with all kinds of stuff on his mind. He has to run in and grab something before heading to an appointment, so he shouts through the house, “Hey, Link! Just had to grab someth…” The tall man freezes as he enters the kitchen, stopping a few feet in front of Link who is also frozen, standing in the middle of the room with a glass halfway to his mouth. 

First of all, Link’s almost eye level with him now because he’s wearing heels. Not only is he wearing heels, but he’s wearing a simple black dress too that hugs his hips nicely. Slowly, he sets his glass down on the counter and holds his hands up in a half surrender, half placating a nervous dog gesture. “I can explain,” he says.

Rhett opens his mouth to try and tell him that he doesn’t have to, but he’s still reeling at how unexpectedly good Link looks. Sure, they’ve worn women’s clothes many times before, but there’s no “bit” persona covering this, and particularly, there’s no crappy wig. “You look nice,” Rhett finally says, voice a little tighter than he would like. Link gets a defensive look on his face and it’s Rhett’s turn to raise his hands, “No judgement, I promise! I just wasn’t expecting it!”

Link’s hands drop to his sides and his shoulders relax a little. He sighs, “I just… I like dressing up like this. I like… how it feels, how it makes me feel.” He gestures to the house around them, “When I’m alone here I like to wear… dresses and things just cause no one will judge or ask questions.” His eyes search Rhett’s for acceptance. 

His best friend is happy to give it, “Then I won’t ask questions. Now that I know, I hope you’ll feel comfortable enough to wear what makes you feel good when it’s just the two of us too.”

“Thanks, Rhett,” Link sighs, smiling and relaxing fully.

The taller man smiles back and looks at his watch, “Oh, shit, I have somewhere to be.” He runs to his office to grab the thing he came for in the first place and then Link follows him out to the driveway. With a moment’s hesitation, Rhett wraps an arm around Link’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug. “Don’t go twisting your ankle, now,” he says as he pulls back. 

He backs out of the driveway with one more look at a beaming Link. On his way to his appointment, Rhett adds “dressing up” to his mental list of things he loves about Link.

[selunchen]

“Good game,” he says in a voice that isn’t his own.

For a second, Rey stares down at it like she’s never seen a hand before. Her eyes – sad and resigned; the only sign of life in her otherwise impassive face – flick up to meet his.

“No,” she says, “It really wasn’t.”

- Play to Win @commandercait prompted by @forcebondedreylo

- 

UPDATE 11.06 I have been thinking about this drawing all weekend and I didn’t like the way I colored it. So I redid it.

Okay. This spiraled COMPLETELY OUT OF CONTROL - and honestly, there’s a point in which you just need to put the pen down and just say "let it go.”

I had hoped I could finish both prompts this week, but between work, volunteer work and me going away this weekend, that won’t happen! We’ll make up for it next week!

It was really fun and I’ve had the best time researching multiple light sources! <3 (also just ignore the top part of the comic. We all know we are here for the bottom part)

As always, lineart below.

[selunchen]

Not 1 - but 2! REYLO BABIES

[thisistheendtimes]

Well y'all I was going to work on the rest of those prompts tonight but I ended up watching videos of puppies instead.

Oops. 🤷

I haven't forgotten them. One is written and just needs a quick check over for spelling. The last ones are halfway done. I'll get there. Puppies were just more important tonight. 😂

[thisistheendtimes]

Still got some prompts from this weekend to write. One is done, just need to spell check it. The others I have started but unfortunately bedtime came up quickly. I probably won't have time to work on them til Wednesday. But huge thanks for getting me writing y'all and I'll get to the rest asap!

[thisistheendtimes]

Sev (the Sev brainrot is real) + 12 for the homemade prompt list? I'm leaning towards post-Kashyyyk but go for whichever era strikes your fancy!

We ended up on Kashyyyk... And it turned kind of sad. This is a scene that would fit into my Rep Comm AU, though it would probably never make the cut in an attempt to keep up the "what happened to Sev" question. Despite the fact we all know he survives and lives and gets to go home and be safe. I almost turned it into a dream but I couldn't quite connect it so I leave it to your imagination that this was just a memory embellished by exhaustion and he's safe in bed, in a house with his brothers, Vau, Jaing, and (in the case of my AU) my girl Meerja. He's all fine now.

The air cracks and burns. A stinging heat that fills his lungs and makes his eyes water. Sparks bounce against his chest leaving dark smears against the filthy katarn.

The world around him, is on fire.

Trees splinter and crack, flames licking at their branches. Sheets of metal lie in haphazard piles, a gust of hot air and sparks sends one toppling over. Sey ducks, throwing his arms over his head as the glowing metal burns through the thick vegetation beneath it. His vision swims, the heat and acrid smoke making it hard to see. The air smells of burning forest, electrical fires, and the stench of burning flesh. He coughs and spits, a wad of red spit hitting the ground below him. He tastes copper and he spits again. More blood. He turns away, deeming that to be the least of his troubles right now. The Sep cruiser had fallen, Delta's efforts coupled with Vos's attack had done the job and while the burning cruiser had taken care of his droid problem, it had presented a much larger problem. Namely the raging forest fire around him.

He stands. Or tries too. His knee buckles and pain shoots through his calf. He doesn't want to look and decides it may be best if he doesn't. He can drag the leg. At least until he's out of the immediate area. His helmet is gone. He can't see it nearby and that worries him more than his increasingly painful knee. The helmet has his map with Delta's designated RV points and, possibly, working comms. A tree snaps nearby and the rush of hot air as it falls has him ducking to the ground again.

"Feirfek." He mutters. His voice feels loud despite the roaring fire and suddenly he realizes how alone he is. It feels strange. He's used to being alone. Spending days, weeks even, alone in a hole scraped in the ground, stewing in his own excrement as he waits for the right shot. But even then he's always had Scorch humming in his ear, laid up in his own hole nearby, spotting for him. Even Boss calling for status reports or Fixer sending him silent messages on his HUD. He's never been alone before.

"Nearest RV is Kresh." He tells himself. Anyone else could have imagined it was a squadmate talking but his own voice is too low, too deep, too damaged. He shrugs off that thought and wobbles to his feet. If he doesn't look down and if he ignores the pain - but shab that hurts- he can hobble along at a decent pace. He doesn't want to think about what he'll do if he has to climb or if the pain gets worse but for now he heads in what he hopes is the direction of RV point Kresh. Delta will be there and once he finds someone with comms they can call for medevac, And then he can address the growing pain in his knee. He dodges another falling branch, turning his face away from the unbearable heat.

"Get to the RV point." He tells himself. "They'll be there."

They aren't. And he doesn't understand why.

[selunchen]

So my hand is working again! (yay) and my tablet is semi cooperating (yay), so we’re off on this week’s prompts! which is play to win by @commandercait and  quasars by @sanziene

Will they be done this week? My perfectionist says yes, but pragmatist says no. Stay tuned to see how much I can motivate myself to continue on these!

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

4, 18, 21, 36, 45 and 50?

18. Any OC crackships? 

So basically, I am the worst when it comes to crack. Don’t give me an audience, because any weirdass fangirl theories thrown at me I will want to write about, and then I’ll abruptly make it canon. And that is just not on. Which is exactly how Tom Harding and Zach Marsette happened. Tom/Marnie are obviously my endgame couple, and Zach/Tom were like, insta-bros. So much so, that my bffs who were reading the first draft of Undone at the time I was writing it, totally crackshipped it. And we wrote stupid crack pieces back and forth and laughed about it. And six years later, they’re in love and it’s literally the only thing I know that’s definitely happening in Undone rewrites… And that is why I can’t be involved in my own fandom. But I guess I’ll milk it for all it’s worth before the Time series becomes a bestseller and I get really disturbing ships coming at me… (the majority of my characters are related and I can only handle so much incest in this series…)

Also, shoutout to Violet/Indie, which was kind of maybe jokingly suggested by one of the readers, and I was like “yeah… Vi would tap that” even though Vi was 100% aggressive, angry straight girl who would tap anyone who offered at the time. But now, they’re a soft lesbian couple in Time/Moonage Crossover canon, with a gigantic garden they share while they bring up Violet’s daughters together??? How am I like this? Take my characters away from me.

21. Your most artistic OC

Allow me to nominate Sargent Gansey, Doing it For the Aesthetic Demiboy Fashionista Extraordinaire™ up for the award for Best Costume Design:

First Impression game is strong:

Sargent looks like the 80s rolled into town, had a raucous party, and threw up its boozy contents all over him. His neon pink tee beneath an open denim vest  coupled with faded grey skinny jeans battered in the knees with grass stains and holes are both casually laid back and seizure-inducing. A bright orange sew-on patch stares back at her from the breast pocket of his vest. Violet wishes his hair wasn’t such a crafty mess. She wishes he wasn’t so languorously handsome in his stupid, vibrant clothes.

The Son, What are you Doing??? Look

Sargent doesn’t know what to say to remedy the situation before his corduroy newsboy hat is pummeled into the dust and dirt, and crushed beneath a steel-toed boot. Someone kicks at Sargent’s shins, a direct attack to the sequined harem pants he clearly should have left at home. 

Nonbinary fashion star of my heart:

Sargent glances down at himself, his expression a stroke of surprise identical to his sister’s. The high-waisted skirt is admittedly striking on his long figure, two columns of buttons leading down his lanky torso into the pleated flare, falling over too-thin hips. The purple cat paws splashed all over the dark print strikes Indie as funny in a way only Sargent’s ridiculous, whimsical tastes can be. One of Violet’s slouchier cream-coloured sweaters tops the look, tucked in, but loosely draped over every angle. Indie has to admit, for Sargent’s explosive fashion disasters, this is a good look… if it weren’t for the dark skinny jeans thrown on underneath.

^ Excuse me, those high-waisted jeans are sinful.

^ All nonbinary fashionistas need a supportive cupcake of an enabler sister. ;)

And not to mention, this post-apocalyptic 90s goth punk jam no one saw coming:

He stands, his free hand shaded over his brow, gazing up into the sky, without a single care for the new arrival in the parking lot outside his home. A black shirt emblazoned with The Sex Pistols over a Union Jack rides up, high over his slim belly, pulling upward with his arm’s tug. He’s torn off the sleeves at the shoulder and ripped the hem across his midriff, a savage mercy killing to such a worn castaway that might have once belonged to Noah Czerny. His bright red tartan pants are torn in the knees, leaving gaping windows to the knobby caps. He’s somehow more filled out than Adam remembers seeing him all of two days ago… Muscles disappear into a deep v beneath the flannel button up he’s tied low around his waist. A toothpick tangles between his teeth. Sturdy, dark fabric covers his hands, cut away at the knuckles: gloves for a hellion with a firm grip on his wheel… He’s bleached something awful into his riot of hair, which sticks up every which way, all Johnny Rotten, ready to raise hell with pumped fists and a sneering mouth.

This boy is an artist. I can’t even explain… And I didn’t even hit upon his bright Broadway future… (that’s for another day and another post.) ;)

36. Do you have OC pairs where the other part belongs to someone else (siblings, lovers, friends etc)? 

I mean, all of Moonage is an OC party shoved into the midst of TRC 20 years later… Violet is Pynch’s daughter (she was pre-TRK, and therefore, pre-Opal. But I’m delighted to say I called the dream-daughter front…) and Sarge and Indie are Bluesy’s. But I’m taking the ot3 and shoving them into the Time series, so they’ll be getting a fresh parentage soon enough.

45. A character you no longer use?

In the first draft of Regardless, while Marnie was still trapped in the Venimores mansion with Luke and Crystal, she had a neighbour who was essentially the catalyst for getting her out of there. His name was Jesse, readers loved him, and therefore, I went out of my way to kill him harder after every draft. He went from being turned to stone to he and his dog being obliterated into gory bits because I am both shocking and charming all at once. *winning smile* But I realised after I went to rewrites that he served no other purpose but to die and I replaced him with Sam, who had a lot more longevity and emotional value as a secondary character…

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want.

Hmm! Well, I don’t know how many people are gonna read this far down, but allow me to throw an outline out there for the Dark!Moonage plot, which has just hit the fan in chapter 43 of Moonage Daydream, and I’ve been excited about since October…

Following inescapable family tragedy, Adam Parrish demands something of Cabeswater he can’t take back. He wakes up in a darkened world, where the streets are emptied out of fear for an unknown evil looming above. Back at Monmouth, nothing is as he remembers, as Sargent Gansey stands watch, rifle in hand. Adam doesn’t know what the hell he’s set foot in, all he’s been told is to beware of the Queen, who lays waste and destruction upon all that she touches alongside her flock of Night Horror minions…

(I cheated. That’s not OC talk. But I can’t describe it any better without spoiling it… ;) )

*above fanarts are all from the lovely @where-is-my-wood, whom yes, I love to brag about at every opportunity I get because she’s lovely and draws my kids without any Hell Witchy coercion on my part. :P