#writin prompts

[lckoda]

Unprompted things my friends and I have said. Pt. 1

A/N: None of these have context and to be honest bout half of these are from one person alone. Feel free to use any of these for dialogue or just random starters.

Most of these are 18+ so minors go away.

1. “Brian get your ass in the car, we’re horny”

2. “We are not starting a fucking cult”

3. “I’m not explaining to you parents why you passed away from beans”

4. “Did you just ask her if she wanted Asperger’s?”

“Fucking aspirin you whore.”

5. Walking back from the kitchen. “Who’s throwing bread?”

6. “I don’t have time to be drowned in cream.”

“I do.”

7. “I can’t hear you beyond ass clown.”

8. “I’m gonna hit you if you call cantaloupe outside it’s name again”

9. “You think monsters only come out at night? Wrong”

10. “So back on the topic of werewolves”

11. “He has free will but he will be punished for the choices he makes”

12. “I listen to 80’s rap but I know who SZA is”

13. “I hope you see Chewbacca. He’s furry”

14. -try’s to open a jar of mayo. can’t open jar goes to S/O

“Hey can you open the jar please”

-tries to open jar but are not successful

“Do I need to bang it”

-S/O proceeds to bang the jar’s lid on the corner of a cabinet breaking the lid in the process

“Jesus Christ” is now holding a broken jar lid and a full jar of mayo.

“I got it. I- I opened it” awkward proudness

“Babe….I love you but no.”

15. Turning up radio volume “Aw come on I wanted to hear about the manslaughter”

16. “Does your shirt say fuck daddy?”

17. “Open thine gate like you open thine’s legs”

18. “Give me your ass (give me thine ass)”

19. “Yeah you wanted to die last year”

“I did”

20. “Fuck Richard, your soda’s in the bathtub”

21. “I can’t cry myself so I sit in the shower and imagine they’re tears.” -finger guns-

22. “My ass isn’t that big”

23. “I was gonna go pee then I saw my face”

24. “How much furry porn have your watched Richard”

24. “You gotta come out sometime”

Pterodactyl screech

25. “Yeah you look like a senior. a senior citizen.”

26. Gremlin voice “give me your money”

27. “Why is it tingling?”

28. “I believe in you”

“I don’t”

29. “Oh my Christ on a stick you stupid bitch”

30. “I guess I could’ve gotten closer.”

31. “Ahhhh drive you whore”

32. “If you call me in the morning I will rip out your throat.”

33. -holds out hand for hand holding-

-gives a high five-

“Crisp”

34. Talking about a star wars gun keychain. “It goes pew pew not bang bang”

35. “Do we want to get fancy drunk or regular drunk”

36. “Jesus”

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah just felt the power of god come through my ass”

37. “I thought it was a furry turns out it was fanart about Markiplier.”

38. “Slap my ass and call me daddy…. Wait that’s not it” (love a brain merging sayings)

#crack humor #crack dialogues #lckoda writes #lckoda #writing prompts #bookblr #unprompted #dialouge #funny dialogue #friendship prompts #18+ #writin prompts #prompts #writers block #tw triggers

[raineandsky]

#66

tw: divorce

“Ugh, did you have to come?” the villain demands with a scowl.

The hero’s expression is a perfect mirror of theirs. “You think I wanted to?”

“I don’t know, maybe!” The villain turns away from them, unable to bear having to look at them any longer. “Maybe you’re here to rub it in my face!”

“Rub what in your face?” the hero spits.

“You still have the house, for one.”

The hero scoffs dramatically. “Maybe you should’ve considered your job title before you tried to take everything in court. You have Toby, anyway.”

“Toby is a dog. You have a house.” The villain’s scowl deepens, but the hero can’t see it from here anyway. “I didn’t think having a cool job would make a divorce lawyer choose you.”

“Do you wanna… swap?” the hero asks with surprising shyness. “You take the house, I have Toby. Courts did say we could settle things outside.”

The villain turns back to them, borderline shocked. “You want to give me the house?”

The hero shrugs. “My parents have a spare bedroom. Think they have a dog bed, too.”

“That’s—” The villain’s voice catches in their throat for a moment. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve done for me in years.”

A frown brushes across the hero’s face. “We got this settled less than two months ago.”

“Exactly.” The villain forces a slightly shaky grin, shuffling into a fighting stance. “And I’m about to be really, really mean.”

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #tw divorce #i got distracted for like a week straight writin this book #and i came to tumblr like oh shit yea #so. enjoy this r e a l l y short one #it can be a prompt if yall like i always thought insanely divorced idiots was a funny dynamic

[quick-otp-prompts]

Imagine your otp

“Darling, honey, love of my life. You’re killing me.. How could I ever live on?”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. They’re just moping because I refused to cook dinner.”

#i was this close to writin some angst prompt #fanfic inspiration #fanfic things #fanfic prompts #otp ideas #otp prompt #otp things #tag your otp #fanfic #fanfic ideas #fanfic inspo #draw your ot3 #ot3 inspo #ot3 prompts

[ahopelessromantika]

"But you shed to teyk mah tymeeee!" she whines in gibberish.

"Well, take your time, NOT ALL OF IT!"

-by ahopelessromantika-

#writing community #writeblr #writing #writing ideas #writing prompts #fiction #writing prompt #writers on tumblr #dialogue prompt #dialouge prompts #fiction writing #writin #writerscommunity #writer community #writers of tumblr #writers society #female writers #writer on tumblr #writing inspo #writing inspiration #confessing is damn hardddd #withmaestuswrites4u

[lemonsoupssss]

Writing Prompt

The person with the superpower to never be remembered.

Is it really a superpower? They've tried everything, from being loud to obnoxious to downright violent, yet nothing works. Not even their parents remember they exist most of the time. At least as a superhero they get paid to count on being forgotten, to sneak up on attackers and no one ever remembers their weakness or soft spots.

Then they meet someone whose power is to never forget.

#writin #writing #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing community #writeblr #writing prompt #prompt #story prompt #promp #fic prompt #idea #stupid idea #story ideas

[stop-ur-losing-me]

i'm usually not a prompt writer... but i woke up today and this was in my head. don't know if someone's done this before but...

The Villain sauntered over, a devilishly playful smirk on their face. "I see you've been flirting with death for a while now, Hero," they said, as they gently lift the chin of the Hero with a sharp blade.

The Hero's eyes blazed and with a rueful grin they said, "Yes, but unlike you, death's never flirted back."

feel free to reply in the comments!!! so excited to hear all of your stories!!

#AHHHHH LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK #writing prompts #dialogue prompt #writing ideas #hero x villain #superhero x villain #idk what im doing #story prompt #writin #story ideas #authors on tumblr #writer thoughts #write #creative writing

[l-michalska-writer]

bookplots for the book i'm writing / pt.2

I needed you. But you weren't there.

She needed more than you.

I couldn’t make you love me. I’m sorry for that.

I’ve been told to get you off my mind.

I know I’m no one for you.

I hate that I give you so much power over me.

How can you live with yourself?

What did you think would happen? That I would just forget?

I don’t think we’ll get another chance.

A part of me is missing and it took me a long time to realize it was you.

Some part of my broken soul still loves you. I hope that’s enough for you.

My heart breaks when you keep your distance.

Oh, we’re getting too comfortable in this hate.

Feel free to shoot me. I’m already dead. And no one will mourn for me, so… go ahead.

Careful when you do me wrong.

Demons inside of me miss yours.

And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again.

Am I just an inconvenience to you now?

Isn't it obvious that you’re all I have?

We said we’d always put each other first…

It's a revolution I suppose.

Still can't tell if we both mean well…

Don't you know I’m no good for you?

I’m tired of making you forgive me.

These things don’t just change.

I’m scared I’m gonna regret it.

I’m waiting for you to stop hating me.

You keep coming back like a nightmare.

When did you get so deadly?

I really don’t want to go.

I wish you cared a little more.

I can feel you fade away.

I’m done not being your number one.

How the hell did I end up losing you?

It’s so convenient for you, isn’t it?

Forever you said.

You’ve got your peace now, but what about me?

It’s the last time I’m asking you to forgive me.

How did I lose myself again?

I lost myself again, but I remember you.

#my prompts #fanfiction prompts #story prompts #dialogue prompt #writing prompt #sad prompts #love poetry #otp prompts #story prompt #sorry for being depressing #writin #writing ideas

[skylerchasesbooks]

4 Ways to Use Oxymorons in Writing

Writers can use oxymorons in the following ways:

`•~•`

1. Add Dramatic Effect:

Writers can use oxymorons to dramatize feelings and situations. For example, the oxymoron “absolutely unsure” comprises contrasting definitions to support the concept of a character feeling completely uncertain. This emphasis can add a dramatic effect to a sentence or passage.

+

2. Add Irony:

Some oxymorons contain words with contrasting cultural associations. Writers can use ironic oxymorons like “airline schedule,” “business ethics,” and “military intelligence” to mock or poke fun.

+

3. Create A Playful Tone:

The use of oxymorons adds playfulness to writing. Oxymorons like “seriously funny,” “original copy,” “plastic glasses,” and “clearly confused” juxtapose opposing words next to one another, but their ability to make sense despite their opposing forces adds wit to writing.

4. Reveal A Deeper Meaning:

The dichotomy of an oxymoron often expresses a complex idea. It gives a reader pause and makes them think about the context differently. The word “bittersweet,” for example, is an oxymoron that reveals an object's or idea's double-sided existence.

Hope these help! Like, share and follow for more <3

#oxymoron usage #how to write #writing advice #writin tips #writing community #writing prompts #how to use oxymorons #books #writers #readers of tumblr #daily life #bookaddict #writers on tumblr #reader problems #dank memes #book blog #booklover

[chaoslynx]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing! If your still doing the kiss prompts could you please do number 6? Your fics helped me through banana fish 💔

6. lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up

Ash groans, half asleep.

Eiji sings his name again, like mornings are something to fucking sing about. Grumbling, Ash keeps his eyes closed in protest. Nothing good has ever happened in the world before 11am. And Ash isn't just saying that because he's never awake to see if it does. 

"Aww, is someone sleepy?" Eiji teases. Then, "Get the fuck up. I made breakfast and you are not letting it go to waste."

"Since when do you curse?" Ash mumbles.

"Since my beautiful breakfast was at risk. Get up."

 "Don't wanna," Ash protests.

"You can't kiss me while you're asleep, you know."

Ash freezes. Then, slowly, he opens one eye. "But you can kiss me while I'm asleep."

"But I'm not going to."

"That's your fault."

"I'd argue that it's your fault for sleeping when we could be kissing and eating my glorious breakfast."

Fuck. Eiji makes a damn good point.

"... Just one kiss before I get up? To motivate me for future kisses?"

Eiji hums, and Ash's eyes are already slipping back closed. Well, the one eye he bothered opening to begin with, anyway.

But he can still hear as Eiji sighs and approaches the bed, placing a hand on the blankets near Ash. Then his breath on Ash's face, and then his lips on Ash's face, and—

Ah, shit. This is worth getting up for. Maybe.

Eiji pulls away, and Ash whines, chasing his lips for a moment, leaning into the touch as Eiji smiles against Ash's mouth.

Ash's eyes flutter open, no matter how much he protests and tries to keep them shut, tries to keep sleeping or at least pretend to keep sleeping just to fight Eiji on this point.

But those damn kisses. Addictive as fuck, Ash swears.

Ash mumbles an "I love you" as Eiji stands upright, but it's incomprehensible to even his own ears. 

Eiji laughs at him. Dick. "What was that?" he asks.

"Love you!!" Ash whines. "Come baaaack."

"It's breakfast time! You'll never get your energy in the morning if you don't eat properly when you first wake up."

"Don't gotta if I don't wake up in the morning to begin with," Ash points out.

"Then you're happy with just the one kiss?"

"... No," Ash grumbles. He throws the blankets back with a huff, sitting up and glaring at the wall. "Asshole."

With that, he makes an attempt at standing. Emphasis on attempt, because he literally rolls out of bed, and would probably fall face first onto the floor if not for Eiji.

Eiji, who catches him like some sort of prince out of some sort of fairytale, the type where even people like Ash get saved, and—

Ash squeaks.

"Come on, love," Eiji whispers. He kisses Ash again, then grins.

Ash's eyes narrow. Eiji knows exactly what he's doing to Ash here. Embodiment of the goddamn halo emoji right now with his smug face and his smug kisses. 

Ash groans.

"Breakfast?" Eiji asks, tilting his head softly.

 "Breakfast," Ash agrees, "but I'm mad about it."

Kiss prompts!

#banana fish #asheiji #ash lynx #eiji okumura #prompt fill #answers #anon #sobbing thank you for your kind words on my writing #like i'm just out here writin'. idk why people read it tho that's on you

[gurorori]

yanno wat back 2 da goretober thing. fuck da mindset i have 2 put smth out everyDAY as long as i make this month filled w gore like never before i did it rite.

#but also i might try drawin' / writin' several prompts at once #or mixin' em together? who knows? #MUTUALS IF YA HAVE ANY FUN GORETOBER PROMPTS LIKE LISTS. 4 THIS YEAR. DO SEND #i will prolly like decide whether i wanna write it or draw it dependin' on each one #so it'll b like practice of both 4 me n_n fun fyn fun #mika caws

[exalok]

Vibe Check at the Dog Park

(link here)

The first time Cecelia saw them, it was winter. There hadn't been many people out, though the sky had just cleared that morning—but those three were running around almost as excitedly as their dog. Well, one was running—the tallest of them by a head, boots throwing up snow and hair flying out from under a knit hat—and another was loping along behind, stopping and turning every so often to watch the last one, all black coat and rainbow scarf, amble at their own pace. The vibes turn out alright, all things considered.

wherein cecelia has a dog and a special interest and the Three have a dog and a lot of friendliness to spare. somebody wears a rainbow scarf, i continue to dress them all in ridiculous outfits for my own benefit, and campbell has a fake pedigree.

#dishonored #writins #royal ot3 but it's only very vaguely implied by this being me writing them #based on a list of trio dynamic prompts i picked up somewhere #the first of these dynamics being dumbass/smartass/vibing (guess who's who)

[terrainofheartfelt]

prompt- jenny finding out about dair and her reaction + her being happy for them

Dair + Jenny

After she hangs up the phone, Jenny stares into space for what must be twenty straight minutes. 

Her fingers twitch, needing something to do, something to keep them busy. It’s been her prime coping mechanism since, well, probably since she developed the fine motor skills necessary. If she was too hyper or bouncing off the walls, her mother put a crayon in her hand, or a pencil, or a paintbrush, and then later, fabric, thread, needles. The act of making something gave her a way to focus, to take all that ambition that had been born in her blood and do something with it. 

She grabs her sketchpad, starts on a figure and the shape of a dress without really looking at it. When she does, she realizes she doesn’t want to design anything at all, and tears the page out, a new blank one gaping up at her. 

Jenny sighs, slumping back against the wall of her dormitory, drumming her fingertips on the paper. 

She’s not…mad, not really. The way Dan talked, all cautious and careful and slow, like she was a feral cat he was trying to persuade to come out of the alley, he probably expected her to be angry, but she wasn’t. Or if she was, it feels different than the kind of anger that ate her alive back in New York. 

Not wanting to design but needing to draw something, she falls back on an old standby learned from her mother. She picks up a pen, and starts scrawling across the page, filling all the empty space, just random letters, well, maybe not so random, D-A-N, B-L-A-I-R, W-A-L-D-O-R-F, E-V-I-L S-P-A-W-N. When a sufficient amount of the page is covered, she starts connecting the lines, weaving the letters together until they’re unintelligible, a collected framework of lines, an abstract approximation of the iron outline of stained glass windows of the Anglican church down the street. 

Once satisfied with the skeletal structure, Jenny grabs her box of colored pencils. She’s meticulous, one color at a time, taking care not to use two similar hues next to each other. 

Her mom always made her own coloring sheets like this. In the evenings, after dinner but before bedtime, when Dan would disappear behind a book and Dad behind his guitar, her mom would sit in the armchair by the record player and just…color, just like this, filling an entire page with a riot of different hues and shades that did look like stained glass, so bright it reminded Jenny of the blown glass vases her parents displayed in the kitchen that she wasn’t allowed to touch.

Sometime, around the time Jenny was starting to think of herself as an artist too, she insisted that Mom show her how she made them, and she did. Jenny remembers being almost disappointed that there was no great secret to it. Scribble, connect the ends, color in the blank spaces. 

“It’s no genius work,” Alison told her, “but it’s meditative. Relaxes the mind.” 

Jenny could definitely do with that, she thinks as she picks up another pencil. Bright red, like cherry lip gloss. 

She didn’t yell. She didn’t give her blessing—because why should she—but she didn’t yell, didn’t make any accusations. She bit her tongue, and powered through the conversation best she could, sprinting to the end of the phone call. And now here she is. 

She knows what she wants to say, but she also knows that she can’t say it to Dan. 

You can’t badmouth the boyfriend. Another nugget of wisdom from her mom, delivered unto her last year, when one of her friends from show choir in Hudson started dating a grade-A douchebag, and that’s judging from Jenny’s rubric, which has a steep curve. 

Jenny couldn’t stand being around him, and more than that, didn’t want her friend giving her own time to someone who didn’t deserve it, all of which she told her mother. She and Alison undertook a thorough Full Disclosure policy when she moved to Hudson. It worked pretty well, even when Jenny didn’t like the advice she heard. 

“Honey, there’s nothing you can say that will sway her,” Alison told her. “All you can do is just love her, so when the bottom drops out she’ll know that you are there for her.”

Jenny kept her mouth shut, and, a week before senior prom, the douchebag showed his true, douchey colors, and Jenny was there for her friend. 

But what sucked is that Jenny would have been there regardless, so why should someone she cares about have to go through the wreckage of heartbreak to fall back on something they already had? 

Dan has a more resilient heart than she does. It’s just fact, they went to that school and went through their own dark forests of fucked-up shit, and while she broke down, Dan’s still there. Dan still believes, in true love, in finding the one, no matter how many times he gets hurt for the sake of the one. He’s so much like their mom, but on this, he’s his father’s son through and through.

Maybe that’s the problem. Sometimes Jenny imagines stretching her arm out over the Atlantic Ocean, plucking up her brothers by the shirt collar and carrying them over to London, to safer ground. 

But when everything got bad, she felt like she couldn’t turn to anyone, but even then Dan had been ready to punch out any one that wronged her, so long as he gave her the chance to talk and she gave him the chance to listen. So, she doesn’t want to cut him off. Even though she doesn’t know how not to, given what he’s just told her. 

So, she colors, she puts it onto the paper like her mother taught her, puts the words she couldn’t say into the phone into each swatch of color. 

She’s going to wreck you. She is going to wreck you and leave you in pieces and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop it. 

Half the page colored, she puts on her headphones, blasts music from her laptop. She cycles through most of Paramore’s discography by the time the page is filled.

Jenny lets out a deep breath as she examines her handiwork. Stained glass on paper. And, despite herself, it worked, like mac and cheese, like chocolate chip waffles, like any comfort from her childhood. 

On impulse, she grabs her phone, snaps a picture of her DIY coloring sheet, and sends it to Dan. She doesn’t know what to say to him, but words had always been more his thing anyway. 

Two minutes later, Dan sends a photo back, one of his own attempt, still in progress, on one of his legal pads he uses for outlining. 

Love you, she sends. 

Love you too, he texts back. 

Jenny’s still worried, but she thinks, or maybe hopes, that everything will turn out okay. 

3 years later…

Jenny and Nate stumble through the door of their Airbnb. Well, Jenny stumbles, she’s been in these heels too long. Wherever they go, no matter how fucked up they are, Nate always carries himself with an infuriating amount of athletic grace. It’s that damn pub football league. 

“Oh, couch,” Jenny sighs, collapsing onto the piece of furniture in question. It’s very comfy. They truly scored with this one, booked on a whim by Jenny while they were still on the train this morning. 

Dan and Blair had their own suite at the Plaza Athénée; when Blair heard they were staying in the 5th, she’d rolled her eyes, but even she was too happy to spend any time berating Jenny and Nate’s choice of lodging on the “wrong” side of the Seine. 

“So,” Nate says lightly, toeing off his shoes and leaving them beside her discarded boots, “how are you feeling?” He bends to pick up the coat she’d dropped on the floor next, hanging it up along with his. He takes such good care of her. 

“Exhausted,” she answers, hanging her head over the back of the sofa, as Nate drops down next to her. “Can you believe we were in a different country this morning? And we took a train underwater?”

He laughs lightly, stretching out and putting his head in her lap. “That’s not what I meant. I meant: how are you doing? About today?”

She frowns down at him puzzledly, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a conflict of interest asking that question?”

“My interest is you, babe,” he reaches up, tapping the back of his hand on her sternum. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I seem to recall already having this conversation with Eric after Dan proposed.”

“Yeah, well, I’m checking in again.”

Jenny sighs, tilting her head back to think. “I’m good. Really.” She clasps Nate’s outstretched hand in one of hers, and runs the other through his hair, soft between her fingers. “I’ve had enough time to get used to the idea. And while I don’t think I’m completely used to it…” she shrugs. “The more I see them together, the more it makes sense.”

Nate makes a small hum, his little nonverbal way of saying I’m listening, and Go on. 

“I don’t know,” she takes a breath, gathering her thoughts, trying to shape them into words, “Dan’s always been just…himself, but like, in soft lines, shaded in. But…now he’s more…sharper. Like the outline of him has finally been inked in, you know?”

Nate blinks up at her, crease forming between his eyebrows. “I think so?”

Jenny laughs, and he strokes his thumb over her knuckles. “I just mean, this is the most himself I’ve ever seen him be. And if you repeat this I’ll deny it, but I think a lot of it has to do with Blair. So…” she sighs, melodramatic, “for him, I’ll suffer through being legally related to her.”

Nate snorts, face breaking into that sunrise grin Jenny loves so much. He brings their joined hands down, settling them on his chest. She’s never historically been much of a hand holder, but Nate loves it, and she loves him. And, she loves that it’s her he’s reaching for. 

“I’m happy for him,” she declares. “And I’m happy he asked me to come. And I’m really happy that we won’t be anywhere near when he tells Dad.” 

Nate makes a noise of agreement. “Or Eleanor.” 

“Oh my god, yeah.”

They both laugh, out of not only amusement at the mental image of Rufus and Eleanor’s respective reactions, but also relief, that Jenny and Nate won’t be in the blast zone when the bomb drops. There are definite advantages to the ex-patriot life. 

“Is that something you want?” Nate asks softly. 

“Facing the wrath of an Eleanor scorned? Fuck no.” 

“No,” he says softly. “What Blair and Dan did.”

“Elope in Paris?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” he qualifies with a tilt of his head. “But I was thinking…just – marriage in general.”

“Oh,” Jenny says bluntly. 

Nate nods, his normally open expression cautious. 

Jenny sits back, thinking it over.  When Nate asks a serious question, she knows it comes after a long time of thought, always seeking an honest answer, so she tries to give him the same level of consideration. 

She’s not a believer in forever like her brother is. She’s so like their dad in so many ways, but in this one, she is her mother’s child. 

“I don’t think I’m ready for that. Maybe later. Way, way later, but not now.”

Nate nods, understanding. “I don’t think I am either.”

She lets out a breath.  

“So…” he trails off, “glad we’re on the same page?” 

She laughs. “Yeah. Yeah we are.”

She may not believe in forever, but if she had to draw it, it would look a lot like Nate. 

“And, who knows, maybe we can revisit this conversation at a later time, like…when we’re forty.” 

Nate grins, and presses a kiss to the back of her hand. “Sounds good to me.”

One word prompts

#this is the longest one yet #i guess the fact that these are getting progressively more loquacious means I'm gettin my groove back #jenny humphrey #dair #jenate #my love this one is NOT on the list 😘 #but. I had bits and snatches of this idea languishing in the google docs for over a year #so this was a good excuse to finish it #but bc you did not follow the prompt I also bent it a lil so I could write more jenny/nate muahahahahahahhaaaaa #this could be a standalone minific #but i designed it to fit in to the fever dream high auverse #fun fact the stained glass coloring thing is something my mama does #it's her thing to do while she watches tv. that or sudoku #and she taught me how she does it #and now i'm nostalgic and want to color #maybe when I finally make time to watch house of the dragon I'll pick it up again #hey @ other fic writin friends #anytime you do a fade like 'X amount of time later' - do y'all hear the narrator voice from spongebob? #*prompts

[idyllicsam]

why do fathers love their daughters the most when they're children?

have i become a different person? do i have a different name, or a different identity, now that i am older? am i not the same person who used to await your arrival from work everyday by the front door? am i not the little girl who used to wait eleven months for you to come back home in primary school because your job was in another country? am i not the girl you used to skype call with every single night, telling her you love her the most in this world?

why is it, that you yell at me every single time i have an opinion that is different from yours? why is it, that you have a problem with almost everything i wear? why is it that i'm the one who should've never been born, when you're the reason i'm here in the first place?

sometimes i wonder if the things i do or say are because of you — if you shape my entire personality even though i haven't even lived half of my life with you. because somehow, whenever someone tells me, "you're just like your father", i start to cry. tears stream down my eyes like glaciers melting to form the ganges, and my eyes grow puffy as if they've known nothing else.

why do you affect me this way? i think about it almost every time you say anything to me. even if you've simply asked me how my day was, i still think why this small question has my heart happy. even if these blissful moments are small, and the problems are huge, i still forgive you each time. i always forgive you because i am a fool who thinks you'll be a better parent to me. but you never are. and you never will be.

but that's okay. it's not your fault. i hope.

#— pondering 💭 #creative writers #creative writing #descriptive writing #writing #creative #creative works #writin #writing prompts

[captainimprobable]

ok but should i pull a huntlow fic out of my ass for the end of huntlow week........what if

#jaytp #writins #i need to look up the prompts

[aria0fgold]

Whumptober day 13, alternative prompt used: Body Modification

Character: Nightmare

Within a forest in the middle of the night, with skies dark and stars hidden, only the moon illuminating the surrounding, a man lay writhing on the floor, clutching at the ground with nails bloodied from dragging across it, small stones pricking his skin. He bit his lip hard that blood dripped down his chin, suppressing screams that longed to escape his throat ever since his body started to hurt.

His mind became increasingly foggy, memories blurring and turning to static. He was just on a simple camping trip, or perhaps he wasn't at all? He wanted to get away from the stress of the city, maybe not as well? Has he sent a message to his parents, final words to be said before he completely loses who he is, he can't remember either. What was it he encountered to be subjected to this torment, a monster? a demon? He can't even remember that too. His mind was blank, the more the minutes ticked by, the more the pain intensified. It was all that filled his head.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. His lips had long parted to let out a scream of a voice he couldn't recognize as his. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. His face soaked with tears, his body soaked with sweat, he can barely hear the sound of something being ripped open from all the screaming. Rip, rip, rip, drip, drip, drip. His face stung, voice broke, it was only then that the man found where the ripping was, yet it didn't stop there.

He felt it all over his body, his shoulder, his arm, his chest, his stomach, his legs, everywhere on his body, he can feel his skin being ripped open by an invisible force. The man then prayed, he prayed and prayed and prayed. Prayed for it to stop, prayed for whatever god to save him, yet no one listened, no one answered. The man merely continued to writhe on the ground, bathed in his own blood. There was the sound of stitching caused by an invisible needle that closed what was ripped open.

His eyes then burned with a pain as if a hand reached deep into his eye socket and squeezed his eyes. The man clutched his head, digging his nails deep into his scalp, tears of blood flowed down his cheeks. The man kept praying still, he doesn't want to die, he doesn't want to die, he doesn't want to die…

Please… I don't want to die…

… … …

Silence enveloped the entire forest, with only the sound of rustling leaves and chirping of birds as the sun peaked through the horizon. Prayers lost to the wind as the man lost who he is, a mere husk sat where he once lay, with stitches scattered around his body and eyes that can never belong to that of a human. With no memories but a single purpose in mind, it was time to satiate his growing hunger. The fear of others.

#ariawrites #whumptober 2023 #ariaoc #ariaoc: Nightmare #whumptober day 13 prompt: alt #is this considered gore? #tw gore #cw gore #just in case it is #didn't get to mention his name here cuz tbf it was like in the past waaay before he came to be referred to as nightmare #i thiiiink i mentioned nightmare waaay back in the past? through an ask chimera sent me #i dont remember what i said but yeah nightmare was mentioned then! but i will talk bout him a bit in a separate post anyway #cuz am like rewriting his story a liiiil bit. basically expanding more on it #this was the dudes transformation story pretty painful stuff #its my first time writin smth like this so am not sure how well i did but am happy with the result anyway! #no age but during his moment he was around 20+

[luckyfiona]

“ you can’t or you won’t? ”

                  ❝ ——  Oh. Hm. ❞

                                          ( Uh-oh. )

Lawless Lucky talked a big game around the bonfire last night. She wasn't too oblivious to pick up on the fact that her being scandalized and upset by the boys' violent sides was beginning to grate on them. So, when all of the boys were talking about the gruesome things they'd like to do to the people who made their lives hard in The Other Place, she forced herself to laugh along, and even took the opening to spin a tale about how she was planning to poison her old employer's food. And, oh, those rotten pirates? Well, she would do the same to them if she had a chance.

So busy seizing on the moment, she didn't consider that she would actually have to put her money where her mouth was.

It would shatter the illusion of Neverland as her luxurious, peaceful, happily-ever-after paradise if she had to see any real carnage with her own two eyes, much less deal any of it herself. But here was dear Peter, ever the altruist, granter of all her wishes, suggesting she come along to their next raid of the Jolly Roger. Lucky's pretty sure he knows this is out of her comfort zone, if he's paid any attention to her — and he does, of course he does. Why else would he go through the trouble of bringing all of these troubled souls to the island if he didn't empathize and care about all of them, right? She can't imagine any motive but love and sympathy. — It's funny, considering how anxiously, meticulously sensitive she tries to be to his boundaries. There was something maybe endearingly boyish about his disregard for hers.

She reasons that she should be grateful for his investment in keeping things fresh and interesting. This is what a sensible, healthy relationship looked like, right? Balancing energies was a major tenet of Celtic magic— it was the key to harmony and prosperity. A passive, supportive person worked best with a person who was a little more... challenging. It would be too stagnant or too chaotic any other way. She gives a fond half-smile to her love, her true love, convinced he's only looking out for her best interests. She would find a way to explain to him that this doesn't really interest her... another time.

               ❝ Well, I suppose I would... ❞ 

Lucky? Morally opposed to it? No sir, you've got the wrong lassie. You must be thinking of that prude from Chicago, Fiona Comisky, who used to dote and cry and sermonize Nate Larsen any time he got injured in a fight with some low-class brute he should've run away from. She had no qualms with clodhopping bullies who started barbaric fights. Didn't find it tasteless in the slightest.

She was opposed to tagging along for much more modest, supportive, team-playering reasons, to be certain. The same reasons why she declined Nate's offer to teach her how to use a bow and arrow: why would the Princess of Neverland get her dainty, dignified, not-at-all-labor-calloused hands dirty learning how to hunt when her boys got such a thrill out of slaying those innocent animals?

                ❝ But why bring a girl along to steal all of the attention?                        I'm not as strong or as sneaky as you. I may ruin the... Element of surprise. Or... distract everyone when they have to keep me out of harm's way. And there’s really— there's so much I could do back here. I thought I should make some sort of victory banquet for the boys to come back to. ......Besides... ❞

Lucky's fingers sidled over to his, tips brushing over his knuckles, as if timidly asking permission to show tenderness before making any sudden moves. Peter was a bit strange about physical touch. She could never tell if he was enjoying it, or if she maybe wasn't doing it right. When he didn't immediately swat her away, she gingerly placed her palms in his, intuitively careful not to scare him away like a baby deer too shy for human touch, or startle him like a scorpion ready to plunge a stinger into her at any moment. She has experience with his type. She has nothing if not patience and willpower to break through to them. She has hope that one day she'll be able to fully embrace him. If she's really as lucky as everybody says, maybe she'd be able to fully-fully "embrace" him.

                ❝ I love when you tell me all about your thrilling adventures. You get such this 𝓅𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓁𝑒 in your eye... It's the same one you had when you first found me— the one that I saw and thought, 'Oh, there it is: my 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫. At last, I can see it!' ❞ 

She boldly ventures to show a little more affection while she pleads, but not enough to push him too far, just enough to remind him that he can touch her back any time he's ready. (If he's rallying her to come out of her comfort zone, maybe this is a good time to encourage him to be a little more adventurous, too.) Her fingers, ever-so-lightly cupped over his hands, gently lace themselves into the spaces between his. She's not naïve enough to believe she's going to get out of raids forever. She just wants to experience feeling truly loved and close to him, just one time, before she has to see him at his absolute nastiest.

           ❝ Oh, Peter, won't you please let me see my 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 again when you fill me in later? ❞ 

( Won't you please let her be so lucky as to skip out on this? )

╳ — 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ! // ACCEPTING.

#(set when she was still peter's latest model Wendy-bot 2000) #i like the gifs from this movie cus she has a Visible irish accent in them and i love that for fiona :') #if u look real close and havent gotten any in a while you'll notice there's like three different subliminal message double entendres in her #jus know that every time u think a line in a post abt peter sounds like an innuendo it 100% is because lucky is thinking it too #｢ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ▓ 🐞 — the lost girl. ｣ #｢ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ▓ 🐞 — ❛ ft. peter pan. ｣ #｢ ɪɴʙᴏx ᴄᴀʟʟ ▓ 🕯️ — answered. ｣ #the nature of drabbly askmeme prompts is that you want to write a complete vignette based on the one line someone sends you so you end up #writin like 99 words of dialogue in response to the 5 syllables someone sends u and it makes it look like ur muse Does Not Shut The Fuck Up #so. ignore that. i wanna say fiona would've picked up on the fact that he doesn't like to listen to broads rambling for too long #this is also kinda my first ic post tho (baffling that it took me this long i am sorry) so! wanted to write a good intro scene #and rly set up what fiona's mentality was like in this time cus it's gonna make a lot of her present day chocies make more sense #also sorry that you all have to find out this late but i Am a broad who rambles for 5 paragraphs in the tags of everything i post Sorry!!