#prompted

it's neverending, unwavering

the tale where you meet

yourself; to find divinity

one cycle on repeat

around and around we go

in search of the light we keep -

within; toil and labor until the day dawns

it's the path of the truth we seek

Omg yes you got it 👹 I consider this a missing scene/ad addendum to you’re a bad idea, but a real good time (since I know a few people wanted that series to continue, so here y’all go as well ❤️), in between lois leaving at the end of part 3 and her first call to clark in part 4 (or an unofficial part 3.5 lmao)

Drunk Prompts

—

Lois Lane was not drunk. Far from it, actually, which was commendable considering how deeply hurt she was. It was her own doing of course, always her own design, leaving everything she knew behind the moment it got too real.

Though it had been a month, the wound was still fresh, an ugly, puckering scar where her heart should’ve been, eating away at her chest.

She couldn’t call him. She wanted to, desperately, to hear his voice, even if he was angry, or too shuttered within himself to even recognize her attempting to reach out. This was the most time they’d spent apart since after high school, she realized, not knowing if that realization was going to ruin her night further.

Lois didn’t believe in fate, but she thought she might give fortune a try, as her phone lit up a couple of seconds later, saving her from yet another round of overthinking.

“Hello?” she said quietly, pretending like she hadn’t seen his name flash across her screen.

“Come home.”

The words were slurred, but without a doubt, that was Clark Kent on the other side of the phone. Because she was herself, she snorted, “What happened to good evening? You lose all your manners since I headed up to Star City, Smallville?”

“I’m serious, Lo. Come home. Please.”

He sounded so sad, and so tired, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he was just barely able to keep it afloat.

She decided, as he probably wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, to give him the truth.

“I can’t,” Lois whispered. “You know I can’t.”

“Why not?” Clark whined, almost petulant. She hated that she found it cute, him wearing his emotions so clearly for her. Sometimes he was an open book, and other times he felt worlds away. She couldn’t deny that she appreciated the clarity, even if she refused to do anything with it.

“Because I can’t, okay? Look, you’re drunk, Smallville, and as much as I’d love to play Tipsy Catch Up, I’m not anywhere near a bottle or planning to be. So let’s just talk about this in the morning, yeah?”

“I miss you.”

A blurt, as if the words left him faster than he could try and stop them. Lois sighed, torn.

“Clark — ”

“Like, really miss you. It hurts, Lo. So much.”

“It hurts me too,” she whispered. “Every day.”

It was quiet for a little while. She was almost certain he’d fallen asleep, so she mumbled, “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Clark returned, and she could picture the big goofy grin that had probably broken out on his face.

“Now go to sleep,” she ordered, ignoring the thrill that ran through her as he returned, “Yes, Miss Lane.”

The phone clicked, and she released a breath she hadn’t fully realized she held, placing it down on the table beside her bed.

She could check in on him tomorrow, she resolved, or give Martha a call and ask her to inquire.

Lois settled down for bed, pulling the sheets tighter around her body.

Yes the demon thing is holding some sort of fried wing, chicken or angel you choose. There was a vision but I'm a little blind so I doubt I executed it right 😭😭😭😭

Pls pretend you like it I spent like an hour on it 🥹🥹🥹

It's been forever since Ive drawn traditionally frfr, I just colored it on paint cuz I'm lazy. Original sketch under cut :3

Oo I am using the one word prompt for this one and the word is torn!

send me a ship and a word

—

“Are you sure about this?”

Belly would have followed Conrad absolutely anywhere (and she had, many, many times, from Arthurian England to alien planets, dodging arrows and laser beams, outrunning enemies time and time again), but this almost seemed to be a step too far.

“I’m sure,” Conrad said, though he had stopped reaching for the controls of the ship, turning to look at her, concern lighting up his eyes. “You look torn, though.”

arwen + button

You got it!

send me a ship & a word

—

There was no article of clothing Arthur Pendragon despised more than a button.

However, he could see it’s usefulness when he fumbled with his unbuttoned cuff links on purpose, in order to call his wife over, knowing that she would roll her eyes at him fondly, reach over and secure them before pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek.

Holding her close afterwards, seeing her smile light up the room and brushing her curls away from her face with the quiet awe he always held for her made the entire blasted ordeal of getting ready without his valet worth it.

“Are you ready, my love?” Arthur asked, offering Guinevere his arm.