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Let the Promptathon Begin!

To join the battle, all you need to do is pick a prompt from below (any prompt, even if it's your own) and write/vid/manip/icon/draw/whatever the most creative bit of whatever you can create! And remember - PLEASE feel free to vid or icon or manip or do something non-written. We love ALL kinds of creative output equally!

When you've written/painted/made it, paste it into the comments here. Once you've done that, you can post it wherever else you want.

You may enter as many times as you like, so long as each entry is completely separate (not a series of linked pieces). Also, please do not link to old work - this should be something new, produced for the challenge, based on one of the prompts.

THE RULES

1. It must fit in one comment, so the limit is 4,300 characters (there's no minimum limit). It can be part of a longer piece that you may post elsewhere, as long as it's something new and based on one of the prompts, but all we want here is the part that you are most proud of. If you make art, if it's larger than 350 px wide, please use a thumbnail linking directly to the piece (directly to the artwork, not a post or site). The thumbnail can be up to 350 px wide, and 300 px high, and should include as much of the art as possible. If it is a vidlet or something else requiring dowloading, like a fanmix, please post the link to where we can download. Feel free to post a teaser image, but please confine yourself to the artwork preview rules.

2. Important! Please use the subject line of your comment to identify the snippet, like so: Title, prompt, rating (i.e. Fandom, Pairing, prompt word, rating system of your choice). For example, I might write: "Staying Awake, One Tree Hill, Lucas/Nathan, rain, R", or "The Sun Has Gone Down, Crossover, Torchwood/Stargate Atlantis, Jack/John, under fire, for all ages".

3. You have one week – the post will close for new entries next Sunday, April 1, at midnight eastern standard time. PLEASE be certain to check the World Time Clock to verify the deadline time in your area.

4. Don't forget that these prompts are only written as character one/character two for convience, NOT because of any requirement to make it a relationship story! Gen and friend are very welcome here. They can be interpreted in ANY WAY, so just imagine the FUN possiblities. You can take one prompt and write it, draw it, icon it, fanmix it, AND vid it. (Although if you have the time to do all of that in the week that these prompts are open, I might just have to kill myself out of jealousy :o) And you can use the characters in a different way each time. Don't be afraid to think outside the box!

5. Please don't post anything but your creations or feedback/feedback replies (to individual stories) here. If you've got any questions or comments, please leave them on this post right here, NOT on this post that you are currently reading. We'd like to keep this purely for the creative output (and feedback on the creations - readers/voyeurs, please do show the writers/artists much love for their creative offerings).

The prompts are right here
Thanks SO much to sageness for coding and lending hosting space on her site!


The prompts using only one character were listed first, followed by the prompts for more than one character. ALL crossovers are under both fandoms, so you don't need to worry about looking in multiple places for your crossovers - those listed under Smallville are the same listed under Supernatural, if you are looking for prompts for a Smallville/Supernatural crossover.

Finally! Warning: ALL ratings are acceptable here, from the things that you would show your aged grandmother, all the way up to to the things that would make a sailor blush. Use your own discretion, and please label your stories, art, and other creative output accordingly.

Thank you kindly!

rules stolen from oxoniensis and her AMAZING porn battle

Comments

( 647 comments — Leave a comment )
Page 6 of 10
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sheepfairy
Apr. 1st, 2007 03:46 am (UTC)
#1 Crush, Heroes, Hiro/Ando (unrequited), Secret, G
If Hiro is going to be honest with himself, he has to admit that he's had a crush on Ando for a long time. He tries to ignore it, though - smash it down into a place where he doesn't have to think about it or let it risk ruining their friendship.

But he lets his crush out in little ways. He invites Ando over to his apartment whenever he can think of a reason, and he makes sure his fridge is always full of the things that Ando likes. He's also pretty sure that they hug a lot more than most other guys who are just friends. And secretly, even though he knows it's not very nice or noble of him, he's glad that Ando doesn't have anyone else in the way of friends. It means that Hiro gets more time with him to himself, and he makes good use of it.

"I have Star Trek!" he says excitedly when Ando comes over, and he doesn't let himself be disappointed when the other man looks skeptical.

"Is it the series with Jeri Ryan in the skin-tight suit?" he asks.

"No, but it's the series where all of the women wear really short skirts," says Hiro, and Ando starts to look a little more interested.

Hiro knows his friend well.

"I guess I can stay for a few hours. But not that long, we both have work in the morning," he says as he settles on Hiro's couch. But Ando will stay late; he always does, because neither of them actually take their work all that seriously.

Hiro settles down next to him, maybe a litter closer than he should, and gets ready for a long night with his best friend and his favorite show.
leyna55
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:56 am (UTC)
Re: #1 Crush, Heroes, Hiro/Ando (unrequited), Secret, G
Awww Hiro. Very cute little scene.
sapote3
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:18 am (UTC)
Bittersweet, Stargate Atlantis, Jeannie, PG
It's not following a prompt! I'm really, really cheating! But I got hit by a craving to vid this in the viewing chat today, so it seems like a shame not to at least post it here and give rat_jam the credit.

Vid, 1:30, imeem and download at
sapote3
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:19 am (UTC)
Re: Bittersweet, Stargate Atlantis, Jeannie, PG
pixiecatfish
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:23 am (UTC)
What a beautiful glimpse of Ray! And so true to his character.
lozenger8
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:26 am (UTC)
Are You In or Out?, Life on Mars, Sam/Gene, bisexuality, NC-17
"People are either one way or the other," Gene grunts.

"Not true," Sam retorts, swallowing in a deep breath and changing position.

"That's what we were taught. At school."

"They did not teach you about being gay in school."

Sam twists his hand to the left and bites on his lower lip, smiling at the expression in Gene's hooded eyes. Gene knocks his head back over the top of the car seat.

"Did too. The older kids. Told us it were sick. You were either sick or you were healthy."

"You look pretty healthy right this second."

Gene huffs out a breath and a bead of sweat trickles from his forehead. Sam keeps stroking, speeding up his movements, watching as Gene starts thrusting forward. Sam rubs his thumb over the tip of Gene's cock, spreading pre-come. His breath is ragged as he grips his own cock, pumping in time.

Sam's voice is hushed when he continues. "You look more than healthy, you look gorgeous."

Gene comes with a low sound, his head bashing with a resounding thump. He looks at Sam lazily, displaying curiosity and sated fascination as Sam keeps working his cock, close to coming himself. "What was it called, then? Wanting birds and blokes? Bicircular?"

Sam manages to answer between breaths. "Bisexuality."

"That's a movement I could get behind."

Sam laughs. "Doesn't surprise me."

He comes, hot and sticky, and turns to see Gene looking off into the far distance.

"Shit. Speaking of movement, there's some at number forty, better get little Sammy zipped up. And be careful. We don't want him going through the grinder. He has to be in tip top shape for later on today."
leyna55
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:53 am (UTC)
Re: Are You In or Out?, Life on Mars, Sam/Gene, bisexuality, NC-17
Hee! Multitasking on a stakeout. Love it.
keerawa
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:59 am (UTC)
Unwritten Rules, due South, Fraser, unwritten, PG-13
Stakeouts were an introspective time. Although Ray started the shift chatting and playing word games, after a few hours they always ended up in a comfortable silence. Fraser's senses focused outwards for evidence of wrongdoing while his thoughts focused inward.

As a child, Ben had been happy. He and his mother had lived in a cabin half a day's journey from their nearest neighbor. The two of them spent days in cooperative story-telling ventures that drew equally on the wilderness outside the cabin and the wildness within them. His father's occasional visits were pleasant but perplexing. Father didn't talk to the fire when he gave it wood. He knew nothing of the gentle snow-whatsit or the fearsome kamikan, which could take on the form of wolf or man, and preyed upon both.

After Mother's death, Ben went to live with his grandparents and became Benton. It had felt like a punishment. His stories were met with admonishments against telling lies. His fervent prayers to God to let him speak to Mother were blasphemous. His tears made everyone uncomfortable.

Benton had tried so hard to learn the rules of his new existence. There were many languages to speak, but only one at a time, never mixed up together as Mother had enjoyed. There was fiction and non-fiction. There was reality and there were childish dreams.

Benton read and reread a pamphlet in his grandparents' library about Amala and Kamala, the wolf-girls of India. Raised by a she-wolf that was later killed by the local villagers, they had never learned how to live among humans. Amala had grown sick and died. Kamala had mourned and died alone. Only by following the rules could he avoid their fate.

Ray's right hand tapped out a complex beat on his denim-clad thigh as he watched the warehouse. Diefenbaker snored in the back seat.

Benton's year of high school in Norman Wells had been difficult. Full and complete answers to the teachers' questions angered the other students. Girls walked close, smiled and touched him. A few of the boys did the same, if more subtly. It was flirting. Benton knew that much, but he wasn't certain how to respond. Benton kissed a girl behind the community center. She responded enthusiastically at first. When he pressed his erect penis against her thigh, she pulled away, insisting that she was not that kind of girl. It was confusing.

He chose to follow in Father's footsteps and become a Mountie. At the Depot, Cadet Fraser developed a clearer sense of the man he wanted to be. The unwritten rules among cadets said he should turn a blind eye to Steve's cheating. Fraser had thought about it over-night. The next morning, he turned Steve in. The cadets rejected him in turn. It was only to be expected.

Fraser's arrest of his father's killer left him exiled to Chicago. He was alone but for Diefenbaker and Father's spirit – fitting companions for a man with only one foot in reality.

In Chicago even the rules of basic courtesy that he had painstakingly learned were incorrect. However, everyone seemed to assume that Fraser's oddities were a result of his nationality, rather than any personal failing. Both of Fraser's partners expressed clearly when he transgressed some local norm, but they never rejected him when he chose to follow his own path.

Of course, that led to Victoria. He had believed she was his true mate; had chased after love with all that was in him. He had thrown aside caution, common sense, and honor; ignored Ray, Diefenbaker, and his father. He had risked all he had to create a world where he and Victoria could be together. Moderation had never been one of Fraser's strong suits.

Which brought him back to Ray. Ray, passionately pursuing and protecting his ex-wife, still never stepped over the line. He sensed boundaries by instinct and danced along them with grace. Fraser envied him that talent.

Ray, somehow sensing that Fraser was thinking of him, turned and smiled. He reached into his pocket and offered Fraser a stick of spearmint gum. Fraser accepted.

All these years, Fraser had tried so hard to be a good boy, a good Mountie, a good partner. As the gum's sweetness burst across his tongue, Fraser wondered if perhaps it was time he learned to be human.
lozenger8
Apr. 1st, 2007 10:57 am (UTC)
Re: Unwritten Rules, due South, Fraser, unwritten, PG-13
♥ I love this.
malnpudl
Apr. 1st, 2007 08:19 am (UTC)
Circle Jerk, Wilby Wonderful, Duck/Buddy, circle jerk, NC-17 (warning: underage)
It was the only time it was okay to look, when they were all in a circle in the empty storage room up above Dermot Mullaly's uncle's welding shop. They were allowed to use it because Seamus Mullaly thought they were having Scout troop meetings, but what they were really doing was drinking stolen beer and smoking and passing porn around, and on some days, the days Duck lived for, having a circle jerk.

It wasn't okay to look in the locker room. You were supposed to pretend you didn't see the other guys' dicks and their balls and how Buddy's pubic hair was straight and dark and not very thick and looked like it might be soft if you touched it.

And no matter how much you wanted to, it wasn't okay to look at the swimming hole when they went skinny-dipping. You never checked out another guy's bare ass, not anywhere, not ever, not even Buddy's when he got out of the water all streaming wet and his ass looked so round and perfect and it made you dive for deep water because your dick was getting hard.

But here the guys were all sitting with their pants down around their ankles and everything hanging out, and Duck was allowed to look.

He wasn't sitting next to Buddy, he never did, nor right across from him, either. That'd be too obvious. He'd spent a lot of time thinking about it, about how to look without getting caught.

So there he was, just to the left of the door, with his pants pulled down, his legs spread wide, and his bare ass on the dusty wooden floor. And there was Buddy, across the room and a little to his right, his back against the wall and the warm, golden light from the high windows shining on his belly and his naked thighs and on the head of his cock every time it poked up out of his pumping fist.

It never lasted long enough – it was all about speed, and whoever came first won. Buddy's balls were bouncing furiously between his spread legs, and Duck wanted to grab his hand and make him slow down, slow down, make it last.

It was never enough.

"I bet I can shoot farther than all you guys," Duck said, startling himself with his own words. He felt his face go hot.

"A dollar says you can't," Paul Andersen shot back, and a chorus of voices chimed in.

"You're on," Duck said, his breath coming short. "Gotta slow down, though. Build up the pressure." He said it like he knew what he was talking about, hoping that they'd buy it.

"Yeah," Dermot said. "He's right. Shoot too soon, it won't go anywhere."

"Okay," Buddy said, looking at Duck. His hand was moving more slowly now. "A buck apiece. Guy who shoots the farthest takes it all."

Duck barely heard the rest of the guys agreeing, because Buddy was staring him down like he was challenging him one on one, man to man. Dick to dick.

Buddy spread his legs wider, and the muscles in his thighs flexed as he thrust up into his own hand.

Heat coursed through Duck, and he closed his eyes. Not yet. Please God, Jesus please, not yet.

When he opened them again, Buddy was still looking at him, his eyes wide and a little wild and his face flushed deep pink. His hand was moving faster again, and Duck could see Buddy's balls going hard and tight, pulling up against his body.

"Gonna shoot," Buddy said, breathless. "Gonna shoot so far you'll be wearing it."

"Fuck," Duck gasped, and he lost it, felt it take him and make his cock pulse hard and his back arch and his chest heave. "Fuck you," he managed to choke out, trying desperately to make it sound like a challenge instead of a plea.

By the time he got his breath back and opened his eyes again, Mike Flynn had already grabbed a roll of twine off a shelf and was measuring for distance.

"Buddy won," he declared. "Must be three feet. Jesus."

They pulled their pants up and mopped their hands with the paper towels that someone had thought to bring, and Buddy heckled them genially as he collected their money.

Duck hung back as the other guys filed out of the room. He fished the crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket and lit one up with shaking hands.

When he finally left the room, Buddy was waiting for him outside the door; he fell into step beside him. "You would've won," Buddy said with a sidelong grin, "if you'd shot out instead of up."

Duck's face went hot. "Next time," he said, "you're going down."
revbiscuit
Apr. 1st, 2007 03:39 pm (UTC)
Re: Circle Jerk, Wilby Wonderful, Duck/Buddy, circle jerk, NC-17 (warning: underage)
Mal. Wow.
starletfallen
Apr. 1st, 2007 11:22 am (UTC)
Move On, Rent, April/Gordon, regret, PG
"What's your biggest regret?" she asks you, her head in your lap. You don't answer right away, just running your fingers through her hair.

"What's yours?"

She laughs and pokes your chest. "I asked first!"

"I'll only tell if you do," you say calmly, smiling a tiny bit as she sulks playfully.

"Fine," she relents with a sigh. Thinks. "I don't know, actually. Probably... probably giving up when I did." She's suddenly rather serious. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Mmm." You have to restrain yourself from twisting your fingers into her hair, clinging tightly so she can't get away again.

"What about you?"

"Probably--" Your alarm clock rings. You open your eyes and sigh, looking sadly at the hand that had been tangled (gently) in her hair. It's clutching at the pillowcase. "Probably not telling you I loved you," you whisper to her ghost.

And you move on.
leiascully
Apr. 1st, 2007 01:34 pm (UTC)
Better Than Wine, Green Wing, Mac/Guy/Caro, value, R
When it came down to it, three people in one bed was a little bit awkward. There were so many hands (fingers kept getting wedged between bed and bone when someone rolled over) and so many balls and not really enough breasts and a confusing number of mouths and knees.

On the other hand, it was maybe the best thing that had ever happened to any of them, so that worked out. The orange light from the sodium lamp outside washed everyone's skin with gold and the room smelt of sex, musky and rich, and whatever cinnamony perfume Caroline had on.

"You are the most precious things I've got," said Mac.

"Save it for daylight, wanker," Guy said, "you can tell us how wonderful we are when we're not having sex," and he and Caroline shut Mac up with lips and clever fingers.
catwalksalone
Apr. 1st, 2007 06:12 pm (UTC)
Re: Better Than Wine, Green Wing, Mac/Guy/Caro, value, R
Mmmmmmmmm.

On the other hand, it was maybe the best thing that had ever happened to any of them, so that worked out.

I think I shall take this line to bed with me.
out_there
Apr. 1st, 2007 01:38 pm (UTC)
Set in Stone: House M.D., House/Wilson, apology
"So you apologised."

Signing up for detox involves a commitment of weeks. While he knew that when he came here, he hadn't expected the time to pass this *slowly*. Or to be trapped in frighteningly cheerful decor for the entire time.

So he's now Gregory House, M.N.B. Those initials being Mind-Numbingly Bored. Next time Cuddy orders business cards, he's going to get that added right after the M.D. But that would require actually using the business cards Cuddy ordered for him, instead of handing them out at strip joints with Cuddy's office number on the back.

He'll think about it.

"I never knew my workload was this light," he says, avoiding the topic at hand and reaching forward to take a handful of peanuts from the snack-sized bag.

"On average, you see one to two patients a week," Wilson replies, picking up his bag of peanuts and cradling them on his lap, just out of House's reach. "Not counting clinic hours, of course."

"Yeah, but I never have this much free time. If I knew there was so little requirement for my face-to-face wisdom, I would have taken up a hobby years ago."

It's a blatent lie. Firstly, he already has hobbies: Gameboy, PSP and a satisfying interest in soap operas. Secondly, he doesn't normally have this much free time. Seems oddly fitting that as he's sitting here, mind slowly rotting from sheer, utter boredom, this week's patient had the bad taste to actually *have* Lupis.

Wilson raises one perfectly dark eyebrow. Then he eats a peanut. "A hobby?"

"I'm thinking sky-diving. Bungy-jumping might strain the leg," he says, tapping his bad thigh and stretching out a little further on the bed. They're both sitting on House's single cot: Wilson at one end, House at the other. It's just long enough that those peanuts are still out of reach.

"Maybe you should play it safe and take up something more sedientary. Something you could start now. Knitting, for example."

"They don't like giving us needles in detox. Weird, huh?" As he says that, he picks up the bottom of his cane and uses the handle to swipe at the bag of nuts. He'd hoped that with enough force, the nuts would spray towards him and he could gather them up off the cheap polyester bedspread. Instead, they scatter across the carpet. "Not worth picking those up. You don't know what that carpet's seen."

For a long moment, Wilson blinks at the random sprinkle of nuts, then he licks the last traces of salt from his fingers. "Strangely enough, this brings us back to the actual topic of conversation."

"My over-abundance of free time?"

"Apologies. And the rarity of you making them."

(The rest is here. I ran over the word-count.)
indiehobbitlass
Apr. 1st, 2007 04:59 pm (UTC)
I love your GW fics - your characters just ring so true!
indiehobbitlass
Apr. 1st, 2007 05:02 pm (UTC)
Heee. Lovely ending after typical Guy/Mac manly banter!
leiascully
Apr. 1st, 2007 07:02 pm (UTC)
Evidence of Things Unseen, Green Wing, Mac/Guy, proof, R
"You are such a pouf," Guy says.

"Yeah?" Mac says. "Why do you say that?"

"It's obvious," Guy says, rolling his eyes. "The hair. The pointing. And you're terrible at sport."

"Surely not all gay people are terrible at sport," Mac says. "There was that one chap. What's his name, the diver. Louganis."

"Pff, well, divers," said Guy, as if it were obvious. "All those little trunks. I'm surprised more of them aren't diving, if you know what I mean. Anyway, it's not a sport. It's just-" his hand described a somersault in the air "-falling with a little bit of intent."

"Runners, boxers, footballers," said Mac. "Some of them have got to be batting for the other team."

"Only a pouf would say 'batting for the other team'," Guy complained.

"You've got to have more proof than that," Mac pointed out. "Can't have me struck off for poor figures of speech. On the other hand, I have got my hand down your pants."

"There is that," Guy said, biting his lip. "And that was going to be my next point."

"My question," Mac said carefully, his hand working a little faster, "was why we are doing this in the shower without the water even turned on?"

"Every now and then you make a good point," Guy said, seemingly unable to focus, given that his first couple of grabs for the faucet missed by several inches, but then warm water spilled down over them. He wrestled with the wet edge of Mac's scrubs and passed a palmful of liquid soap over Mac's stomach and back. Mac arched into the touch.

"Theoretically," he said to Guy, who was rapidly losing mental ground, "that would also make you a pouf."

"It's not gay unless there's kissing," Guy panted, and jammed his soapy hand down Mac's trousers, fiddling inside his boxers, wrapping long fingers around Mac's erection. Mac groaned and leaned forward and somehow his mouth ended up against Guy's, which was hot and hungry and didn't pull away. And magically continued not to pull away as Guy thrust into Mac's hand, grunting and urgent, and continued not to pull away even after Mac's hand got considerably warmer and stickier. In fact, Guy's lips didn't draw away until Mac himself had groaned his way to adding to the slick coating on Guy's hand, and even then, Guy didn't pull away entirely, just trailed his lips across Mac's cheek.

"The water was a good idea," Guy panted.

"That the proof you needed?" Mac gasped.

"Might need to gather some more evidence later," Guy said, dragging his hand out of Mac's scrubs and rinsing it under the spray. "For now we should get clean, though. Theatre this afternoon."

"I'm supposed to be the responsible one," Mac grumbled.

"Don't worry," Guy said. "No chance of me reforming any time soon. Wouldn't want to deprive the world of my depraved magnificence."

"Thank God for that," Mac said. "Want me to wash your back?"

Guy stripped off the top of his scrubs and threw it into the corner of the showers. "Don't touch the hair."
catwalksalone
Apr. 1st, 2007 08:06 pm (UTC)
Re: Evidence of Things Unseen, Green Wing, Mac/Guy, proof, R
\o/

"On the other hand, I have got my hand down your pants."

Ahahahahahahahahaha!

So very funny and so very hot. ♥

*smooshes you and boys*

for tidying up purposes faucet should be tap
pixiecatfish
Apr. 1st, 2007 07:20 pm (UTC)
That was beautiful! What a lovely glimpse into Fraser's past.
keerawa
Apr. 3rd, 2007 01:41 am (UTC)
I'm going to, perhaps optimistically, assume that this is a respose to "Unwritten Rules" and say thank you!
grey853
Apr. 1st, 2007 09:07 pm (UTC)
OMG, that is porny and I can so see it, too. Well done. Maybe you could put the whole thing, the part that you cut along with it on you own page or something for those who want to read the original.
(Deleted comment)
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( 647 comments — Leave a comment )