#prompts

Round 23 Prompts WHG Prompt 1: The Big Day It’s the day of the reaping. The Capitol decided to announce that this year will be different. The Hunger Games will take place in an arena where the tributes have to fall in love in order to escape and all of the tributes will be used for entertainment after the Games are over. Nobody knows who will be reaped yet. Work has stopped for most people in the District, and school is out. People are talking about the change, how it’s so much better because at least no one will die. Or in the career districts, the careers are complaining about this, that this was not what they were training for. Adults can also be reaped, even if they have a partner already, the Capitol proclaiming that their relationship in any form is null and void if they’re reaped. There’s an air of tension and relief in both measures as everyone waits for the reaping. How does your character feel about the possibility of going to the Arena? How do they prepare? WHG Prompt 2: The Reaping Now it happens. Your character is standing in the crowd, waiting. A brightly-colored escort stands on a stage with 1 bowl and reads off the Capitol-approved speech about how gracious and merciful the Capitol is for letting the tributes live this time. Ignoring how all of the tributes will be basically puppets after the Arena. 1 or 2 names will be called. After each one, there will be a chance for anyone of any gender or age to volunteer to go in the person’s place. The reaping begins. A name is called. WHG Prompt 3: The Last Visit Every tribute is given one hour for others to visit them. No cameras. Your character sits in the bare gray room of their District’s Justice Building, waiting for the door to open. Does it? Does anyone come to visit them? Just one person? Whole parties of them? No tokens are allowed, no remembrances of their past life will leave this room with them. The Capitol declares that the tributes have no past now. And finally, they are left alone in the room. WHG Prompt 4: The Train Ride After a brief trek from the Justice Building to the train station, cameras flashing everywhere, your character boards the train to the Capitol. Greenery flies past the window as the sky darkens. The other tributes are there, along with the frilly Capitol escort desperate to get your character to talk about their personalities, plus a few previous District victors who usually would be mentors but now are just there, also confused about what they’re supposed to do. There is a bounty of decadent food, screens to watch recaps of the Reaping, places to sleep, and places to speak privately. What does your character do? Where do they go? WHG Prompt 5: Chariots The trains arrive at the Capitol. Your character is whisked away by a prep team and stylist to give them a District-themed outfit. Then they are put atop a horse-drawn chariot and paraded between cheering Capitol crowds to the City Center, then into the shadows of the Training Center. How does your character react to being here with these other two tributes? What are their outfits like? Do they like the outfits? The limelight? The false glory of the Capitol? You can coordinate with your District mates on this…or not! You don’t have to match. WHG Prompt 6: Training Once in the Training Center, “appropriately” renamed the Romance Center, your character is assigned to lavish living quarters with food and beverages at their fingertips. An elevator ride down takes them to a room with information about the Capitol, tables for them to sit at and talk to their other tributes, “trainers” who teach them about what to expect after the Arena, and wealthy Capitol contributors who can pay for time with individual tributes while they’re still single. How does your character prepare for the Games? Mentally? Physically? What about for their interview? Do they talk to anyone? Avoid other tributes? The judging is instead a time where the judges make an info card for each tribute: their romance strengths and weaknesses, physical strengths and weaknesses, and likes and dislikes. They might even tell the tributes how to play their “character” in the Arena as well. WHG Prompt 7: The Interview Your character’s stylists have gone all-out to make the most magnificent outfit for your character, regardless of their District. Your character walks out of the tunnel towards the huge crowd seated just outside the light—human shapes are identifiable, but not faces. Only Caesar Flickerman, done up this year in a “romantic” red and pink, is in full view, sitting easily in his chair next to an empty one. It seems like every camera in Panem is pointed at the stage. Your character gets three minutes. Time starts now. Tagging: @jj-shubert-writes , @bloodlessheirbyjacques , @thegoddesswater , @concealeddarkness13 , @pen-of-roses , @abalonetea , @maple-writes , @writingamongther0ses , @forthesanityofstorytellers

Frozen 2 Prompt List

There’s a river full of memory But can you brave what you most fear? When all is lost, then all is found Some things never change, like how I’m holding on tight to you I’m not sure I want things to change at all The wind blows a little bit colder and you all look a little bit older Everyone I’ve ever loved is here within these walls I’ve had my adventure, I don’t need something new I’m afraid of what I’m risking if I follow you Or are you someone out there who’s a little bit like me? I’ll have all the answers when I’m older I’m the one who sees you home Now I know you’re my true north I’m arriving and it feels like I am home You have secrets, too, but you don’t have to hide All my life I’ve been torn but I’m here for a reason You are the one you’ve been waiting for I’ve seen dark before but not like this Hello, darkness, I’m ready to succumb I follow you around, I always have, but you’ve gone to a place I cannot find This grief has a gravity, it pulls me down You are lost, hope is gone, but you must go on Can there be a day beyond this night? The only star that guided me was you Take a step, step again, it is all that I can to do I won’t look too far ahead, it’s too much for me to take So I’ll walk through this night, stumbling blindly toward the light And with the dawn, what comes then? When it’s clear that everything will never be the same again Then I’ll make the choice to hear that voice and do the next right thing I breathe in the place I live and wonder what else can I give this home Somewhere in my heart I feel I’ve not yet done enough If I lost them, I’d lose me I am flipping through the past, turning pages of a book to find you And you left behind a scared child Can’t sit around and cry, there’s too much to lose I need to know who you are to know who I am meant to be How do I be you? How do I be good? You drew a map for me, you left me a clue You didn’t leave me alone, you’re with me, guiding what I do Oh, thank goodness you’re here I’ve never been in love before, I don’t know what I’m doing I wanna love you in the best way I can

If anyone has HC’s or prompts for Obito and pregnancy, I am politely demanding them

Prompts Release ‘Parasite Dream’ EP via Papercut Recordings. #prompts @promptsofficial https://slrmagazine.com/2026/06/16/prompts-release-parasite-dream-ep-via-papercut-recordings/ Prompts Release 'Parasite Dream’ EP via Papercut Recordings

Today’s Prompt Is… “Shhh…he/she’s sleeping.”

Daily Prompt #920 Lopez: “People get sloppy after victories.” Nolan: “Then let’s not celebrate yet.”

POV: it’s her revolution “A little hot tempered there aren’t we, darling.” I stare unblinking at his disgusting rouged face. The face of my enemy. The one that has tormented and nearly brought each and everyone that I love to their knees. “Im only just getting started,” I say, my eyes still locked on my target. With the icy hot rage still flowing in my veins, and my chin held high, I lifted onto my knees, hands braced on the cold marble floor. I say more to myself –and my family– than to anyone else, but loud enough for my enemy to hear, “Until this battle is won, I will not back down. Will not crumble or fall. And by the end of this battle, you will bow down to me and call me royalty.” A slight glaze starts to shine over his eyes. Whether it be pure terror – good, he should be scared – or ignorance I didn’t care. I said my next statement with lethal calm and horror in my tone, “It’s best to give me your loyalty now, because I’m about to take this kingdom from your very fingertips.” He shuddered at that, shooting glances to his emissaries –or maybe for an escape. “You don’t know what you’re up against, girl.” He said with less grit and venom than he probably hoped. “I will burn at the stake… Do it twice if I have to to defend what’s mine .” I grip my knees and stand before him. “I got comfortable living with my pain, and you will soon learn the same.” I said eyes locked on my target again. Power emerges from every pore in my body. I say, “Welcome, to my revolution.” I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this battle I was picking to fight but i didnt have time to doubt my abilities as I let every ounce of power and element from my grip. Let all hell break loose on my enemy.

Today’s Prompt Is… “I am lucky that whatever fear I have inside me, my desire to win is always stronger.” - Serena Williams

Daily Prompt #919 Deacon: “We survived the hard part.” Hondo: “No. We survived the obvious part.”

❥ “Too bad. You're stuck with me now.” @palerick

“Me? Or that old fart over there?” OF points at K.

Badlands Prompt List Prompts for Halsey’s album, Badlands, practice good reblog karma and sent a prompt or two to the person you reblog this from Sick of all these people talking, sick of all this noise They wanna make me their queen There’s an old man sitting on the throne that’s saying that I probably shouldn’t be so mean There’s an old man sitting on the throne that’s saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut He told me I was holy Selfish, taking what I want and call it mine Viral mess turned dreams into an empire Survival of the richest, the city’s ours until the fall But he could never love somebody’s daughter All we do is think about the feelings that we hide Sick and full of pride Would it really kill you if we kissed? He’s got an eye for girls of eighteen I let him climb inside my body and held him captive in my kiss Don’t belong to no city, don’t belong to no man He says, “Oh, baby, beggin’ you to save me” Do you remember the taste of my lips that night I stole a bit of my mother’s perfume And I remember the fear in your eyes the very first time we snuck into the city pool Oh, we’ll be looking for sunlight or the headlights till our wide eyes burn blind And we know that we’re headstrong and our heart’s gone and the timing’s never right I imagine the weight of your ribs if you lied between my hips in the backseat Didn’t know where I was running to I’m searching for something that I can’t reach I don’t like them innocent, I don’t want no face fresh I like the sad eyes, bad guys, mouth full of white lies You say that you’re no good for me I can’t find you in the body sleeping next to me Saying that I love him but I know I’m gonna leave him… Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so I hope you make it to the day you’re 28 years old You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece I know I’ve only felt religion when I’ve lied with you And I’m still waking every morning but it’s not with you Everybody wants to know if we fucked on the bathroom sink The ending is the same every damn time They think I’m insane, they think my lover is strange And I’m gonna write it all down, and I’m gonna sing it on stage, but I don’t have to fucking tell you anything That’s the beauty of a secret, you know you’re supposed to keep it Everybody’s waiting up to hear if I dare speak your name And everybody wants to know ‘bout how it felt to hear you scream They know you walk like you’re a God, they can’t believe I made you weak I found God, I found him in a lover I found the Devil, I found him in a lover I’m such a fool for sacrifice With his educated eyes and his head between my thighs Every single night pray the sun’ll rise I was as pure as a river but now I think I’m possessed I’ve got a boyfriend now and he’s made of gold You’ve got a fire inside but your heart’s so cold 'Cause I’ve done some things that I can’t speak I’m begging you to keep on haunting me Are you insane like me? Been in pain like me? Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me? Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me? Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me? Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me? Saying that you shouldn’t waste your pretty face like me? You can’t wake up, this is not a dream, you’re part of a machine, you are not a human being I think there’s a flaw in my code, these voices won’t leave me alone Well my heart is gold, and my hands are cold Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me? I sat alone, in bed 'til the morning, I’m crying, "They’re coming for me” And I tried to hold these secrets inside me, my mind’s like a deadly disease I’m bigger than my body, I’m colder than this home I’m meaner than my demons, I’m bigger than these bones And all the kids cried out “Please stop, you’re scaring me” Goddamn right, you should be scared of me, who is in control? And I couldn’t stand the person inside me, I turned all the mirrors around I’m well acquainted with villains that live in my bed They beg me to write them so they’ll never die when I’m dead He says, “Oh, baby girl, you know we’re gonna be legends. I’m the king and you’re the queen and we will stumble through heaven” I know you wanna go to heaven but you’re human tonight. You know the two of us are just young gods There’s a light in the crack that’s separating your thighs If you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight I keep my eyes wide open all the time Because you’re mine, I walk the line I find myself alone when each day is through

WRITING PROMPTS - Pain God gave us pain as a punishment. “Ah! Please! Stop!” All who cause pain now must die. “Uh, boss… she’s into it.” Soulmates share pain. “It doesn’t hurt enough.” Pain is a lie. “Torture me, bitch. I dare you.”

Confession: It’s been on my prompt list for a while, but I wish I could read a Dimidue fic that was something like https://archiveofourown.org/works/35171854 https://archiveofourown.org/works/36152668 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29930412 https://archiveofourown.org/works/57001138 Any or all of these impeccable Atmospheric Horror AU haunted house vibes. I don’t even know how one would begin going about it, nor what the contents might consist of, but god… I love when a character can haunt the narrative while still technically being present, and that’s the essence of Dimitri’s role in 3H. Add that to his complex, twisted, traumatix, codependent relationship with a Dedue intent on saving him, and THE VIBESSS! I’ve never been particularly good at plotting, which is why I’ve never completed a long fic with an actual narrative story arc of related events. What’s the cheat code for having ideas? I want to be able to create what I’d like to see in the world, but all I can do is consume and hope.

WRITING PROMPTS - Poison The only way to kill god is to poison him. “Poison me. I dare you.” A supervillain kills with poisoned lips. “What’s… in… this?” Two children poison their parents. “Did you just put—” Don’t forget the poison! “This tastes… nutty.”

Daily Prompt #918 Prosecutor: “Confidence turns dangerous when it stops questioning itself.”

Give Me The Future + Dreams From The Past Prompt List

It isn’t enough to start a riot If this is real life, I’ll stick to dreaming When I’m dreaming tonight, I can be anyone Leave your job and your gaslight man Days like these you wanna get away, close our eyes, pretend we’re miles away Runaways under big blue skies And suddenly we’re Thelma and Louise, you said let’s get the hell right out of here You weren’t scared at all but never turned away You’ll have no more bad days when you’re gone So your future’s lost but they can’t take your past Feels like we danced into a nightmare In the middle of the night, can I dream away? Tell me we’ll be alright, say that we’ll be fine Are we having fun yet? Guess we learned nothing from history’s mistakes Lie to me it’s alright, right? Hollywood has painted us a fucked up fate The world’s burning, but fuck it The whole of human history aligned so we could slow dance They carried us as hope inside Got my heart in your hands and your hands on my chest In my chest there’s a breath, it’s the breath that you take away And you said “Shut off the lights, we don’t need them to dance” We’re drunk, we’re invincible, no going quietly into the night This room is our universe, you are my gravity tonight Last night you said “Empty your head, be here with me” Stop the world, I want to get off Give me something new to feel Breaking hearts in a brand new way So give me the future, it’s golden and bright I got the keys to the car, you got the keys to my head Is it love or are we just craving attention? The city got the best of me Who knows what the future holds? Don’t matter if I got you It’s not about my dreams, I’ll get over my nightmares Don’t wanna just wake up at the ending Don’t blink, I’ll miss it all And dead boys don’t remember The shit we never did will haunt us I can’t live fast and die young, obsessing over the future I come undone when you’re gone You are about to reenter the inner verse where you can go anywhere, do anything, and be anyone I came for distraction then I got swept away And all of my friends are here, up to no good So why would I leave if I could stay here for distraction? I wish this was real life, don’t wanna wake up, no I wanna keep pretending In here I’m a goddess and I leave all my regrets I can picture your driveway, I remember the house up on the hill Time stopped in the space between your breathing We got these family ties I remember your stories, I can picture the garden that you grew I still think of your kindness and the way that your hair would tumble down All the people who leant on you No way we’re ever gonna let the sun go down Call it faith, call it fame, the fantasy’s the same There’s a quiet revolution in my head I don’t want to go around the sun with anyone but you, babe Keep on fantasising futures we should try to make And I’m not gonna lie, say I’ve been alright It feels like I’ve been living upside down What can I say? I’m survivin’ Crawling out these sheets to see another day And I’m gonna be fine, I’m gonna be fine, I think I’ll be fine Well, fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em, fuck 'em all You’ll have no more bad days I keep a picture of you here in my head But hope for the future got me on my knees You are now reentering other people’s heartache We hope you enjoy dancing through the tears Was I not what you want? I run into trouble tryna let you go 'Cause I still feel the high, the love, the vertigo I just can’t get over you I try to forget you, I try to move on, to run from the memories that keep me up till dawn You remind me of the things that I miss Why can’t I forget to remember you I got a version of you in my head, I don’t wanna ruin it I got a version of you in my bed, I don’t wanna ruin this Sleeping means I’m missing everything You can’t start a fire without a spark This gun’s for hire even if we’re just dancing in the dark I’ll shake this world off my shoulders Stay on the streets of this town and they’ll be carving you up alright Should I, should I still be missing you? I’ve been living like it’s tomorrow Who says I can’t keep running?

if you ever want to give us any more on trinity's backstory i would love it - outside pov especially since i love your take on things with it. maybe mohantos but anything would be amazing

[sorry it’s fucking sad but it’s not my fault! & it ends happily i promise] ao3 // it hasn’t escaped elias—for a decade now—how strange and devastating and wonderful it has been to watch trinity grow up. he realized it for the first time when he was on facebook in the middle of the night, still trying to search for some kind of sign that he missed every time he couldn’t sleep, turned away from alma, the light from his phone turned down low. he realized it at 3:04 am on a cool may night when he saw the pictures andrea had posted of trinity in her cap and gown, with her valedictorian stole and student-athlete and honor cords—things she and marisol had tried on together excitedly just only weeks ago. he had been tortured by so many racing thoughts lately, namely why didn’t marisol say anything , but when he looked at trinity’s smile, a new, horrible thing had wormed its way from his gut up his spine: the same disgusting, enraging things that had happened to marisol had also happened to trinity— why was his daughter the one to die? why wasn’t it trinity? he was immediately full of a guilt so profound it had made him sick: he had helped raise her too. elias remembered years of driving them to gymnastics while they chattered away in the back seat after school, years of driving them home after they fell asleep. he remembered, as they got older, how he sat for hours in his car outside of concerts and movies so they could go by themselves but still be safe; they would come back flushed, grinning, full of very distinct life. he spoke tagalog with both of them as often as he could, especially since trinity’s father was never in the picture and she always wanted to learn, to practice. gabriel and adrian stayed over at their house when trinity had surgery on her knee the year before. he brought snacks to marisol’s room while trinity helped her with her physics homework just a month ago; they were, to their credit, studying, but they were pressed close in bed—the same as when they were small but not quite. he knew with certainty that trinity loved marisol, and that marisol loved her too. they went to prom together—marisol agonizing over what to write in a card to ask trinity, who had beat her to it by writing prom? on a post-it note and sticking it to her locker—and he and alma had laughed, late one night after they got home from a party, about how, one day, they’d be planning a wedding. elias realized it concretely, then, looking at this child he had cared for since she was so small—a child he also loved—in a way that he hadn’t been able to think before: if they were lucky, he thought, trinity would grow up. it brought a whole new round of tears to his eyes, even though he thought he was cried out: if they were lucky . time, so much of it, has passed since then. elias knows it’s never been easy for her, but trinity is, fundamentally, very kind, so she calls them every holiday; for years before she moved out east, she would come over each year on marisol’s birthday. he’s wanted to tell her that she doesn’t have to, that she doesn’t owe anything to them, but he can’t quite bear to do it. when she was at ucla for undergrad, he always asked about how gymnastics was going, how she was enjoying her classes, if she had a girlfriend or partner. alma would make her favorite food and they would all sit and listen, the lingering love for marisol just barely powering through the deep grief, while she talked about how she was studying for the mcat, how she went to joshua tree with friends over spring break, how she, even after countless hours—years and years of practice—still worked to master a new skill on beam. elias has watched as trinity finished undergrad at the top of her class, as she attended and then finished medical school too. he’s watched as she’s figured out who she is: haircuts and tattoos and, one year, a sweater with you are on native land printed on it that had made him smile into his beer, because he could, very vividly, imagine marisol immediately stealing it. trinity had invited alma and him to her white coat ceremony, and they had gone, had sat next to andrea with her stern expression, even then, adrian and his folded hands and quiet pride, gabi and his glitter and ear-splitting whistle when trinity’s name was called. it had been, if elias is being honest, a relief in a way: each milestone trinity reached meant she was still here. even with that, alma cried in the car on the way home. it’s impossible to see trinity without wondering who marisol would’ve become: what she would’ve enjoyed studying, her first job, what she would’ve looked like as she got older, who she would’ve loved. he’s only ever spoken about it once to trinity, the guilt that he tries to not let eat him alive, how it gnaws at her too, when she called him in the middle of the night, the day before her own birthday during her first year as a doctor. he could tell she was drunk, and she was crying, and he understood the depth of her sorrow: i should’ve told you , she had said in messy tagalog, i should’ve said something, and maybe she’d still be here. i miss her so fucking much . i still don’t know how to do this without her. elias had been quiet for a moment, letting the ache sit. i would’ve believed you , he had said eventually, when he could find the words, but you were a child too. none of this was ever your fault. i miss her, but i’m glad to know you now, the person you’ve become. trinity had sniffled, had tried to apologize for calling in the middle of the night, but he had shushed her. i need you to stay alive , he had said—too tired and too wrung out to tell her anything but the truth, which she had always respected, even as a small child, more than anything else. and, true to what she had promised that night—true to what she had promised ten years ago at marisol’s funeral, when he hugged her as tight as he could and tilted her chin so she would meet his eyes, when he had told her that marisol loved her and that it wasn’t her fault, that the future they had dreamed about was still in front of her, that she could not do the same thing marisol had, that, if she ever felt like that, she could call him, any time of day or night—trinity had grown up. today was a normal, mundane sunday afternoon: alma had sent him with a grocery list, her handwriting as familiar as his own after all these years, to h mart to make sure they had everything they needed for the week; his brother is coming over tuesday for dinner so alma wants to make adobo. he’s busy making sure he’s grabbed the soy sauce alma prefers when, out of the corner of his eye, he spots trinity. he vaguely remembers alma mentioning last month that trinity had texted that she’d be in town for an event gabi was performing at for pride, but he had been busy with a big work project and it had slipped his mind. his heart jolts a little like it does every time he sees her, inevitably: grief and a moment of reprieve from it, all at once. as the years have gone on he’s realized that trinity’s childhood was taken from her too—not with the same abrupt, violent finality as marisol’s, but still irrevocably. but this afternoon, under the harsh florescents, trinity is smiling. she’s wearing a pair of shorts and a loose old ucla gymnastics t-shirt, her hair up in a lazy bun, and she’s rolling her eyes and laughing at the person standing next to her, leaning into her side to look at something on the package of chili oil trinity has in her hands. he debates, for a moment, taking his leave and not interrupting them, not bringing anything dark into this moment of lightness. but then trinity puts the jar in the basket and turns and sees him, standing with alma’s soy sauce in his hand—and her smile grows. there’s something in elias that resolves, just like that, when she waves and then walks toward him, gives him a hug without any hesitation. ‘elias,’ she says, 'hi!’ it takes him a moment to gather himself, just as it always does when his brain catches up to how old she’s gotten, but he’s able to smile as he steps back. trinity turns to the person next to her—someone very beautiful, dimples on full display at seeing trinity so happy. elias realizes that, if he’s right about the fairly obvious conclusion, trinity has brought someone home , even if california isn’t quite that simple to her anymore. 'this is elias,’ trinity says, 'marisol’s dad.’ he forces the smile to stay on his face: it always stings, to hear it—but trinity means it in a particular way. 'elias, this is my partner, samira.’ samira offers a hand warmly. 'it’s really nice to meet you. i’ve heard a lot about marisol.’ elias shakes it, notices the way trinity looks genuinely so happy that they’re getting to meet, even if all of them know the hurt underneath it; his smile feels a little more real when he realizes that trinity has actually talked about marisol— a lot . 'you too, samira.’ he turns to trinity and points. 'you’ve been holding out on us, though.’ trinity laughs and holds her hands up in innocence. 'listen, we weren’t official the last time i talked to you and alma.’ 'likely story.’ trinity cocks a hip like she used to when she was little and ready to argue, even though she knew she was pushing it. 'samira is, technically, my boss.’ 'trinity,’ samira chastises, then turns to you, 'i promise it’s not like that .’ trinity laughs, her hand going to samira’s hip, her thumb brushing there for just a moment, fond and placating. 'they’re a senior resident in the same department as me.’ she looks to samira and smiles, with clear admiration that elias knows, from trinity, is hard-earned. 'about to be a fellow in a few weeks.’ elias doesn’t quite know how residency structure works, although he’s looked it up to understand the basics of what trinity reports back a few times a year. he can gather, however, that this is exciting. 'congratulations,’ he says, meaning it genuinely. 'thank you,’ samira says. he can tell, innately, that they’re kind, when they look to trinity with a proud little expression. 'trinity is about to be a senior resident.’ elias thinks of all the milestones trinity has made it to—fought her way to, he knows now with clarity. ones he had used as markers for so long: school, all the exams and graduations and honors. they mattered to her, obviously, but trinity has always been so, so gifted; elias knows, out of everything, academics had come easiest to her. if it was up to just aptitude, it was, essentially, a foregone conclusion to him that she would excel as a physician, that she would finish medical school and do well in residency. even when she was little, he really did always believe that, whatever she ended up wanting to pursue as a career when she was older, she could be great at. but elias realizes now that there are quieter, murkier milestones, ones that come with adulthood, with living in a space that moves past clawing, every day, out of a pit of grief. he’s able to see them, all at once, in a grocery store aisle on a hot sunday in the summer during a heatwave, from the way trinity’s posture is tall and relaxed, from the way he can tell—and he’s known her for almost twenty-five years now—that she’s sleeping better, eating enough, or at least as much as residency will allow. her eyes are bright and the clearest green, like when she was small and things weren’t so hard, when there was still room for wonder. trinity catches him up, quickly, on how she’s enjoying living with her roommate, about gabi’s drag and how adrian is interning in an engineering lab this summer. samira tells a story about going out with their friends recently and they both laugh: easy and true. elias feels a rush of both pain and profound relief when he really sinks into it: trinity has a job she cares about, a purpose; trinity has friends and a home of her own and a partner who clearly adores her. she’s cared for; she has, in so many ways, healed. it hits him, square in the chest, when he realizes it: trinity is alive . 'i’ll text you and alma,’ trinity says after a few minutes, when it’s clearly time for both of them to take their leave. 'we’re in town all week. i’d love to get lunch or something.’ 'you know alma will insist you come over for dinner.’ he turns to samira. 'it’s best to come hungry.’ samira grins. 'asian moms,’ she says, and it’s there again, the ache, the balm at the same time. 'i get it.’ trinity opens her arms for a hug and he fights back tears; she hasn’t grown for years, obviously, but she seems so tall. she lets him hug her for a moment longer than he’s sure she would anyone else—but elias knows she misses marisol too, that her absence threads its way through her life too. he clears his throat and when she steps back they both laugh at their teary eyes. she smiles a real smile and he says a prayer to a god he hasn’t believed in for a decade: trinity is so beautiful. she’s still here. it was good to see you , she texts you a few hours later. samira and i would love to come to dinner, obviously. gabi and adrian too probably if you and alma want We would love that , he types back. he means it; with her, he always does. he and alma moved out of their house not long after marisol died; trinity, still, refuses to stay at her mom’s house, either sleeping on gabi’s couch or getting a hotel. it’s hard, to come home, when so many things happened, when there’s so much hurt. he knows the weight of it. he types, And it was so good to see you too, and to meet Samira they’re awesome, trinity responds. i’ve been wanting you guys to get to meet then, maybe because it’s late, and it’s still hot in a way the desert usually isn’t at night; maybe trinity is enjoying being young—splitting a bottle of wine or a joint with her partner, maybe her siblings, who knows—but his phone dings again and he reads, i know you know that i loved mari there’s only one thing he can think of saying; the only truth in the world at that moment: She loved you too. yeah , she texts. i like to think she sent samira or something. idk. i was having a hard time honestly and i needed someone kind and patient, and then there she was sometimes elias looks for signs of marisol; he sees them everywhere if he lets himself. I know somewhere she’s so happy you’re doing well. And you know I’m always here to help, especially if you’re having a hard time. I’ll always answer the phone there’s a few minutes where she doesn’t respond; this time is different, though, than the past when it would make elias nervous—if she wasn’t okay, if he pushed too hard. but, for the first time in a decade, worry doesn’t fill him. trinity responds eventually: i know. i’m gonna keep my promise i swear elias takes a deep breath, letting himself feel it all, his eyes filling with tears again. I’m so proud of you , he sends. Marisol would be too ugh im crying so much in front of everyone , trinity responds. i hope you’re crying in front of alma lol elias laughs. Fortunately for me she’s working tonight terrible. i’ll be sure to tell her when we come for dinner lol he reacts with a laughing emoji like his nephew showed him how to last year. Go enjoy your time with your partner , he says. We’ll see you on Thursday 🫡 we’ll be there , trinity confirms. true to her word, trinity and samira will show up mostly on time, alma hugging trinity tight and then samira when she nods, opening her arms easily. 'you’re so beautiful,’ alma will tell samira, and then turn to trinity, 'they’re so beautiful!’ and trinity will beam, nodding, while samira blushes. 'and so smart too,’ alma will continue as trinity laughs in agreement and presses a kiss to samira’s cheek. 'another doctor in the family.’ gabi and adrian will come too, and alma will fuss over how tall adrian has gotten, will encourage gabi to tell her all about how his latest drag performance went. everyone will eat until they’re just beyond full, like it’s supposed to be; the table will be loud, full of life that, despite it all, is still here, going on even when it seems impossible. trinity will tell them the research she’s working on while samira looks on with genuine admiration that makes elias’ chest full. she’ll explain that she’s thinking of a fellowship in pediatric emergency medicine once she finishes her residency; alma will reach across the table and clasp her hand. it goes unspoken, that there are still miracles, that they all know trinity, in most of the ways that matter, is one. they’ll eat marisol’s favorite desert, the ube sweet and bright; tonight, it’ll be easy to stomach. trinity will tell samira a funny story about when she and marisol were small. they were lucky, elias will think, they were so lucky. he knows too: trinity has grown up, so they still are.

Sapphic LaDS Week Day 3: Weddings Weddings : Show me the gay weddings!!! Tell about the proposals, planning, vows, etc. Additional Prompt: Parenting How are they as parents? Whether via pregnancy, surrogacy, adoption, etc. Tell me all about how your pairing came to parenthood, their struggles, and sweet moments <3! Make your own post or add to this one! This week is SFW and should use the tags: “sapphic lads week” or “sapphic lads week 2026”

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In his desperation for a male heir, King Paul VIII always seemed eager to find a new queen. At 2 am, a spooky hymn echoes across the castle's dungeons. Mesmerised, Paul follows the enchanting call hoping it will guide him to George, a young lady-in-waiting whose impassioned ways might lead to the birth of a robust son. Instead, he stumbles upon the headless torso of Queen John rotting among rat droppings. The very jewel of womanhood is now dead, but where is her head? As the king bends over a marble counter, Richard, his cook, leaps out of the shadows and ravishes him at knifepoint. The royal band has disbanded, but soon the Tudor court will be facing another crisis. The 400-pound King Paul is now heavily pregnant with his cursed heir, and his chief adviser has dispatched the barber-surgeons to France.

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