Writing Prompts - Blog Posts

Writing Prompt #1

The Divide impacted everyone. The earthquakes were relentless, splitting the ground. Smoke descended from the heavens and covered the sky. The sun was gone, turning its back on us all in shame. We'd torn it all apart.

And we didn't regret it.

How to show emotions

Part V

How to show grief

a vacant look

slack facial expressions

shaky hands

trembling lips

swallowing

struggling to breathe

tears rolling down their cheeks

How to show fondness

smiling with their mouth and their eyes

softening their features

cannot keep their eyes off of the object of their fondness

sometimes pouting the lips a bit

reaching out, wanting to touch them

How to show envy

narrowing their eyes

rolling their eyes

raising their eyebrows

grinding their teeth

tightening jaw

chin poking out

pouting their lips

forced smiling

crossing arms

shifting their gaze

clenching their fists

tensing their muscles

then becoming restless/fidgeting

swallowing hard

stiffening

holding their breath

blinking rapidly

exhaling sharply

How to show regret

scrubbing a hand over the face

sighing heavily

downturned mouth

slightly bending over

shoulders hanging low

hands falling to the sides

a pained expression

heavy eyes

staring down at their feet

Part I + Part II + Part III + Part IV

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Hey! Are there blacksmiths in your story? I'm a hobbyist blacksmith and I'm here to help!

Blacksmithing is one of those things that a lot of people get wrong because they don't realize it stuck around past the advent of the assembly line. Here's a list of some common misconceptions I see and what to do instead!

Not all blacksmiths are gigantic terrifying muscly guys with beards and deep voices. I am 5'8, skinny as a twig, have the muscle mass of wet bread, and exist on Tumblr. Anybody who is strong enough to pick up a hammer and understands fire safety can be a blacksmith.

You can make more than just swords with blacksmithing. Though swords are undeniably practical, they're not the only things that can be made. I've made candle holders, wall hooks, kebab skewers, fire pokers, and more. Look up things other people have made, it's really amazing what can be done.

"Red-hot" is actually not that hot by blacksmith terms. when heated up, the metal goes from black, to red, to orange, to yellow, to white. (for temperature reference, I got a second degree burn from picking up a piece of metal on black heat) The ideal color to work with the metal is yellow. White is not ideal at all, because the metal starts sparking and gets all weird and lumpy when it cools. (At no point in this process does the metal get even close to melting. It gets soft enough to work with, but I have never once seen metal become a liquid.)

Blacksmithing takes fucking forever. Not even taking into account starting the forge, selecting and preparing metal, etc. etc. it takes me around an hour to make one (1) fancy skewer. The metals blacksmiths work with heat up and cool down incredibly fast. When the forge is going good, it only takes like 20 seconds to get your metal hot enough to work with, but it takes about the same time for it to cool down, sometimes even less.

As long as you are careful, it is actually stupidly easy to not get hurt while blacksmithing. When I picked up this hobby I was like "okay, cool! I'm gonna make stuff, and I'm gonna end up in the hospital at some point!" Thus far, the latter has yet to occur. I've been doing this for nearly a year. I have earned myself a new scar from the aforementioned second degree burn, and one singe mark on my jeans. I don't even wear gloves half the time. Literally just eye protection, common sense, and fast reflexes and you'll probably be fine. (Accidents still happen of course, but I have found adequate safety weirdly easy to achieve with this hobby)

A forge is not a fire. The forge is the thing blacksmiths put their metal in to heat it up. It starts as a small fire, usually with newspaper or something else that's relatively small and burns easily, which we then put in the forge itself, which is sort of a fireplace-esque thing (there's a lot of different types of forge, look into it and try to figure out what sort of forge would make the most sense for the context you're writing about) and we cover it with coal, which then catches fire and heats up. The forge gets really hot, and sometimes really bright. Sometimes when I stare at the forge for too long it's like staring into the sun. The forge is also not a waterfall of lava, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Welding and blacksmithing are not the same thing. They often go hand-in-hand, but you cannot connected two pieces of metal with traditional blacksmithing alone. There is something called forge welding, where you heat your metal, sprinkle borax (or the in-universe equivalent) on it to prevent the metal from oxidizing/being non-weldable, and hammer the pieces together very quickly. Forge welding also sends sparks flying everywhere, and if you're working in a small space with other blacksmiths, you usually want to announce that you're welding before you do, so that everyone in a five-foot radius can get out of that five-foot radius. You also cannot just stuck some random pebbles into the forge and get a decent piece of metal that you can actually make something with, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Anvils are really fucking heavy. Nothing else to add here.

Making jewelry is not a blacksmithing thing unless you want jewelry made of steel. And it will be very ugly if you try. Blacksmithing wasn't invented to make small things.

If there's anything here I didn't mention, just ask and I'll do my best to answer.

I hear you know a lot about sedatives. Is there anything that works really quickly and is really strong, like a movie-style instant knockout drug? I have to admit, I was a little disappointed at how un-cinematic it was when I experienced being sedated myself

Unfortunately not, or at least, not to the degree you'd hope.

The slowest method is intramuscular, which are tranquilizer darts. These aren't precise, and hit muscle to slowly inject through the fibers and eventually reach blood. They take anywhere from 20 to 40 minutes, and need a counter-agent administered immediately after whatever's been done is done to ensure whatever (or whoever) was hit doesn't die to it. Sedatives are lethal, upping the strength doesn't mean they just up how fast they work, it means the risk of death by overdose is increased. So, a dart to the neck or butt wouldn't instantly send a character off to dreamland (in fact, you don't dream under sedation), and if it hits a vein or artery, that can be it for them.

The second, is intravenous sedation. This is usually used in hospitals, typically taking 15-30 minutes. Unless you're a stunning sharpshooter, you typically can't use a dart to administer this, but if your whumpee is restrained, and they're perhaps shot with a dose of paralytics before being administered this...

The third is inhalation, so that chloroform rag a whumper slapped to a whumpee's face as they struggle before falling limp for hours? Really, it would take 5 minutes (compare to the other's double digit numbers) of constant deep breathing, and only keep them under for a minute once it's removed. But, if you really want chloroform, a way you could do it is soak a fabric bag in it, and tie it over your whumpee's head, resulting in constant exposure and your whumper not having to hold a rag the entire time.

And, the quickest and most dangerous, is an injection directly into the heart. There's little research past pet euthanasia vets, which I feel speaks for itself when I say that this method is dangerous.

But, a lot of sedatives have flexible times. Some take hours, some take minutes. If you want to use a real sedative for your story, research what type it is! If you want to use a fictional one, try to base it off a real one for a certain interest to the story. I always love watching whumpees helplessly struggle as they inevitably fall asleep.

Oh, also, because I hate when people go off on a different topic and don't answer the original question itself; this is fiction, M99 is probably your ticket to insta-knocking out your character. A quarter's worth of weight can knock out a couple thousand-pounds stallion. Have fun!

Hey tysm for the prompts I acc love them 😭😭 I so wish I could write them rn but unfortunately I lack time :( curse Obligations

I will!! Write them soon!! I am not ignoring you

Just wanted to let you know :)) I am so busy but grateful :)

oh! That's fine dude I totally get it! I didn't mean to sound like I thought you are ignoring me or that I was hurt/really anything negative I just happen to be a little dramatic sorry abt that (ᵕ ´ ∇ ˋ ˶)

Oh dear and I hope you get to do what you like soon too<3<3 Have a great day aesdfhvbjvh byeeeeee<3

childhood best friends to enemies to lovers has got to be the best trope to ever exist idccc

Little Intro to Me

Hey everyone. I just realized I should do a little intro to who I am and what I do here.

The name's Yulvin, they/them pronouns

I'm queer

I tend to post whenever and whatever I want

Fandoms I'm in: The Owl House, Creepypasta, a bunch of bands, Riordanverse, Star Wars, writing prompts, and more.

Give me book recomendations. I beg of you

I love old myths and legends. Especially from the USA

I have an OC that I might introduce later, maybe not.

I'm here for a wild ride, not really to get in fights.

This is a safe space. No hate is in my blog

Music is a big part of me, so any music recomendations is welcomed

I'm a terrible speller, so please don't correct my spelling. I know how horrible is.

I play Dungoens and Dragons, mostly fighters and bards

I'm a beatboxer in an A Capella group, but actually do competitions for beatboxing.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. I don't bite. I do bark though.

Welcome to the chaos that is this blog. Enjoy your stay

so i wrote the start of a piece fiction inspired by Frankenstein

it's a mlm, slightly horror, love story between an amoral scientist and his best friend who tragically dies at the start of the book

i'm obsessed with this story as it's the first bit of writing that made my teacher recognise my love for writing

it's called white fang as the prompt for the story was to use a pre-existing title so white fang by jack london

Another idea: take a fragment of a song and incorporate into a flight

Ex( Mama I just killed man!, don't expect me to forgive myself that easily )

“Maybe then i could finally be free…” Shackles hold me prisoner in my own mind, i want to escape and run away from all the sorrow that I endured in that cage.

A/N: not sure if i did that right, i dont really have a full grasp about the flight thing 💔but i will practice more flight prompts

Prompt 4

"Where are you going?"

A looked over their shoulder, glaring at B through tear filled eyes.

"Please," B begged, stepping closer. "Talk to me."

"Talk to you?" A clenched their fists. "Talk to you? The way you talked to me? The way you asked before you made a decision?"

"I'm sorry!" B yelled. "I was trying to help."

"Yeah, and what great help you were." A waved a hand at the rubble thst lied around them. "Thank you so much."

( a collection of drunken confessions dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <3 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

(mix of silly, emotional, messy, sweet, and chaotic)

"you ever think maybe we were meant to meet... like, cosmically?"

"i shouldn't say this... but i've been in love with you for forever."

"shhh. don’t tell anyone i said this but... you’re my favorite person."

"you’re so pretty. it’s actually unfair. i’m mad at you now."

"i miss you. even when you're here, i miss you."

"if you asked me right now, i’d run away with you."

"i told myself i wouldn’t cry and now look at me—i'm soggy."

"can i tell you a secret? no one knows this. not even me."

"i don't want to go home. it’s not warm there like you are."

"you smell like safety. that’s weird, right?"

"you always leave the party too early. stay longer this time. stay with me."

"i don't like them. i never did. i only said yes to make you jealous."

"you were my first love. not that you needed to know that."

"you always knew me better than anyone. it’s scary sometimes."

"every time you smile at someone else i feel sick. it’s pathetic, i know."

"i think you're the only person who's ever actually seen me."

"you promised me you’d stay. why did you lie?"

"remember when we used to dream together? god, we were so young."

"don’t laugh but... i wrote poems about you. they were bad."

"you’re everything to me. but it’s fine. you don’t have to feel the same."

"your hands are so warm. i could live here, holding you."

"you were my favorite chapter. i keep rereading you."

"i’m not drunk. okay i am. but the feelings? those are real."

"i wish i was braver when it counted."

"it’s you. it’s always been you."

"do you think we missed our chance?"

"they don’t deserve you. but i was too scared to try to be someone who did."

"stop looking at me like that. i’ll fall in love all over again."

"you said you didn’t want anything serious... but i did. i wanted you."

"i’m scared. and it’s not the booze—it’s the idea of losing you."

"i tell everyone i’m over you but then you look at me and i fall apart."

"you were the only one who stayed when everything else fell apart."

"if i tell you i love you, will you leave? please don’t."

"the world feels quieter when you're near. like everything makes sense."

"you taste like trouble and i’d still kiss you again."

"god, i hate you. i hate how much i still love you."

"every version of me has wanted every version of you."

"you were my home. i didn’t realize until i lost the key."

"don’t leave yet. just one more moment like this. please."

"i think i messed up. i picked everyone else before you."

"if i asked you to kiss me, would you?"

"remember when you held my hand like you meant it?"

"you’re my what-if. and it kills me."

"can we just stay like this? pretend it’s still us?"

"i forgive you. even though it still hurts."

"i lied. when i said i didn’t care. i always did."

"you look so good right now. it's annoying. stop it."

"you make the world feel a little less heavy."

"i saved every text. is that weird?"

"i love you. even if i forget this in the morning, i mean it right now."

prompts that hit in all the right places

showing up outside your enemy's door

only one bed

knife against the throat

“it’s always been you” kisses

exclaiming “because i love you” during an argument

rain kisses

''use me''

having to undress your love interest to be able to tend to their wounds, trying your best not to stare at their bare-chest

being pushed to the ground/wall with your hands pinned down

sexual tension when tending to someone's wound

“I didn’t know where else to go”

fake dating (it was real all along)

confessing your feelings to someone you think are asleep

“it’s not like I’ll ever see [that person again]” while said person's standing behind them, suitcase in hand, about to reveal they’re moving back into town

''make me''

a character claiming they’re not going to do ~the thing~ but in the next frame is seen ~doing the thing~

“nothing is ever going to happen between us!”

two strangers bumping into each other on the street, instant attraction (not love. attraction! think instant case of god you’re hot)

during a stressful situation, a character can be seen running back into their house ‘’forgot my keys’’ *runs back out* *runs back in* ‘’forgot my wallet’’

the italicized “oh”

“what is it that you don’t get? i’m not attracted to [this person]!” cut to scene of the person in question staring longing at the object of their desire

going to sleep on different sides of the bed but waking up entangled

going to sleep in different beds but sneaking into the other's to snuggle

forehead kisses but it's the male being kissed on the forehead

dancing together, one of them takes the other’s hand, kisses it

''what you're doing right now is really stupid but you're so cute i can't help but laugh at it''

''let's kiss just to see what it's like''

when someone's like… i don’t know… hurt or something… and the other person's like… tending to their wounds… and then just… wrap their lover their arms, thankful they’re alive

when a character is taken hostage by the antagonist, and their lover goes absolutely ballistic, doing everything in their power to protect their lover, and the antagonist has to restrain them, but it doesn't stop this character from trying to get to their lover, doesn’t matter what happens to them, doesn’t matter if they get beaten as long as their lover's safe

Concept #1 before I forget about it: A woman who goes by the name of Brutus (specifically Brutus bc of the song "Brutus" by The Buttress) literally went insane because of the amount of things she went through. As a result of the insanity and the loss of her bodily autonomy, she ends up killing many people. Because of that, the police/government/whoever has to kill her on sight since it is no longer possible for her to go back to who she once was (and recover from what she went through.)

Hello! If you have any Once prompts, character ideas, or pairings that you’d like to let me try my hand at, I’d love to see them.

Hello! I’m trying to step into the Glee fandom in regards to fanfiction, and I would really appreciate some prompts. If anyone has any G or T (possibly M, depending) rated prompts or some pairings they’re interested in, I’d love to give it a try.

Every so often, the local baker must bake something and personally deliver it to the monster in the woods, and in exchange the monster leaves the village alone. What no one knows is, the monster actually has a huge crush on the baker and needs an excuse to see them.

When I first saw your ask prompts out of excitement I was going to ask you to write every single one them .i was like "write every single one them ,I will be your sole reader" then I calmed down

So if you can could you plz write something with 10 and 7 .if it's about andrew and neil it will be much appreciated

KSDFJH no pls this made me laugh so hard i can't-

7: squishing their cheeks

10: lifting someone up out of excitement

~

7.

Andrew could tell it was one of those days.

Normally, he wouldn't say anything if Neil told him "no" or if he didn't want to take his shirt off; Andrew felt the same sometimes. But picking at his scars, scratching his cheeks, fidgeting with his armbands — something was up.

So, he asked.

"What is with you, Josten," Andrew sat down next to him. "Acting more rabbit-y than usual."

Neil rolled his eyes and slumped into the sofa cushions. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“What did we say about lying?”

Andrew heard a huff from Neil as he shifted to rest his nose in the crook of Andrew’s neck. “It was just — I heard some kids today talking about how I looked so much like my- like Nathan, and that it was insane that they didn’t recognize me,” Neil mumbled. “I don’t want to look like him.”

Andrew of course was fully prepared to cut a bitch when he heard that, but decided that he could commit murder after making sure that Neil was in the right headspace to hear about his stabby plans.

“You are nothing like him,” Andrew told Neil. Hopefully it was somewhat reassuring.

Neil did not look reassured. Damn.

Andrew was sure that Neil was going to say some bullshit about how he’d be “fine,” and well, he would not be responsible for the combination of the roof and gravity that would likely be soon to follow it that occurred.

So instead, Andrew took initiative.

He got up and dragged Neil to the bathroom (and yes, Andrew was very calm about the fact that they were holding hands. This was not the time to have a gay panic). He fully ignored Neil’s sputters and questions until he kicked the bathroom door open.

Andrew whirled Neil around until they were facing the mirror. (He did have to go on his toes to see over Neil’s shoulder properly but thankfully Neil was standing in front and couldn’t see Andrew).

“Andrew,” Neil blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Proving to you that you don’t look like that asshole.”

“In the bathroom— ?”

Andrew proceeded to place his arms above Neil’s shoulder and promptly squished Neil’s cheeks.

”See?” Andrew said monotonously. “I bet Nathan never had his cheeks squished.”

Neil was silent for one moment. Two. Andrew was starting to think there may have been more effective ways of improving Neil’s mood, when he saw Neil bite back a smile.

“What?” Andrew demanded. “You really do not resemble a serial killer right now.”

It was true. Neil, with his rough scars and bunched up cheeks and a reddening face from holding back a laugh, couldn’t look less like his sperm donor father.

He looked like… Neil Josten. And Andrew would be a lying homosexual if he said it wasn’t the nicest sight he’d seen.

10.

Neil's legs were beginning to go numb.

There were very few things that Neil wouldn't do for Andrew, and so when Andrew called him over to the sofa, well, Neil couldn't exactly say no! He happily abandoned his essay (that he wasn’t putting too much effort into writing anyway) and climbed into the little opening Andrew made under his blanket, fully prepared to be used as a personal heater for a few minutes.

What he didn't expect, however, was for Andrew to yank him onto his lap and bury his (cold) nose in Neil's neck. Neil smothered a smile and crossed his legs around Andrew's back, running his fingers through Andrew's hair.

That had been 20 minutes ago.

It was a cozy position, sure, but Neil didn't exactly want to fail his classes (and then get kicked off the Exy team. and then die.), so he lightly nudged Andrew's back with a socked toe.

"Andrew," Neil said, voice a bit muffled in Andrew's sweater. "Can I get off now? I have homework."

Neil received no response other than Andrew squeezing him tighter.

It was another 10 minutes until anything changed, but suddenly there was a loud beeping noise. Startled, Neil nearly fell over, but Andrew grabbed him, lifted him up, and promptly walked over to the kitchen.

"Andrew, what— " Neil sputtered in confusion as he scrambled to hold onto something. He was dropped unceremoniously as Andrew grabbed a pair of oven mitts and yanked open the oven, a sweet smell wafting in the air.

Neil stumbled back as Andrew pulled out a few trays of monster sized cookies, placing them on a rack to cool down. After finishing up, Andrew slowly turned around to face Neil.

"Cookies," he said as way of explanation.

Neil didn't know whether to laugh or groan.

"You were so excited to get your cookies out of the oven that you carried me over to the kitchen instead of just telling me to get off your lap."

"Yes."

"Andrew."

"..."

"You better be this excited to go to tonight's night practice— "

"I cannot hear you over the sound of me eating this cookie. Crunch crunch."

"Andrew!"

hey uh— never done something like this before but send me a number and i'll... do something with it? (lmao there's a 99% chance that this will all be andreil but that's fineeee)

physical affection prompts!

pats on the head

interlocking pinkies

smiling into a kiss

a hug after not seeing someone for a long time

giggly cuddles

chasing someone’s lips after they pull away

squishing their cheeks

brushing hands by accident

wiping away someone’s tears

lifting someone up out of excitement

back hugs

an incredibly loud and painful high-five

kissing someone’s forehead

play wrestling

the biggest, warmest hugs

kissing knuckles

tugging on the bottom of someone’s shirt

wiping away food from someone’s lips

peppering their face in kisses

chest bump

accidentally knocking your head into someone’s chin

kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches

a hug that some might consider as ~too long~

confusing a handshake for a fist bump

playfully biting someone

bonus: touching feet and immediately screaming and recoiling

For eons they have dodged my master's blade by sheer luck. No longer will they be able to stand by death's door with no consequences. Their reckoning is upon them. Let the hunt begin.

Many ages ago Death was defeated and sealed. Immortality is the norm, but the loss of death has lead to a society of ultralites that rule over never dying slaves. As Death’s first reaper after the unsealing, you are here to remind them why Death exists… and why your master should be feared.

"Whoa, dude!" I yelp, throwing my hands into the air. "Chill out!"

He groans. "I don't know how you found out. I tried so hard to hide it. I really liked you, Chris."

"Easy, Jay," I say slowly, my hands still held up. "You don't have to freak out. I promise, I won't tell anyone."

Jay scoffs. "Like hell. I know that's not true. In the unlikely scenario that you don't immediately run to the cops, it would slip out at some point, to someone. I can't risk it."

I try not to laugh. "No, really. I'm a hacker. Not as cool as yours, but I avoid cops like the plague. I've actually worked with a few...friends of yours."

The gun lowers a bit, Jay's face scrunched in suspicion. "Really. Who?"

I start counting on my fingers. "Altair, Nightshade, Morgan, Judas, and Kurt. I think that's it? I could be wrong. You know, several of these people use the same code names. Real inconvenient."

Jay blows out a breath, lowering the gun completely. "Thank God. I really didn't want to have to pull that trigger. I don't really do that anymore."

"Huh. You don't say." I eyeball the gun dangling in his hand lazily. "Wanna out that away maybe?"

"Oh this?" He snorts, then tosses it over his shoulder in the direction of his bed. He laughs when he sees the horrified look on my face.

"It's not loaded. It isn't even real!"

Today you just found out your roommate with strange hobbies, like knowing how to pick a lock, knows how every puzzle and cipher by heart, or how to commit tax fraud, and so many other things, wasn't a guy with ADHD, he was an ex-assassin and now you have a gun pointed at your face

I frown. "You have a therapist?"

He scoffs. "I kill people for a living. Of course I have a therapist! Pamela is completely qualified, if that's what you're worried about."

My brow furrows. "So...you want me, your public nemesis number 1, to come to your home, chill in your guest room, and chat with your therapist?"

He rolls his eyes. "That's not...actually, yeah. That's pretty accurate."

"Why?"

"I need someone around that I'm not paying to keep me company."

I think that was supposed to be a joke, but his delivery was a bit to dry, too forced. Is he...lonely? I shake my head. "But why are you offering that to me? What if I say no?"

He growls. "I just offered you mercy. Your life. And your questioning me? I threatened your life and you actually asked me to.... I don't think you're okay." He folds his arms as if to say, I win. Give it your best shot. The prick even raises his eyebrows to taunt me. Jerk.

I grit my teeth. "So you just want me to sit around your house all day? Where's the fun in that?"

He rubs a hand on his temples. "What part of 'talk to my therapist' did you not understand? I'm serious. We've been fighting over this kingdom for years, and you've always put up a fight."

I know when I've lost a fight, and this is no different. I have a feeling that even if I sit down and refuse to move, he would knock me out and take me back anyway.

I sigh. "Fine, I'll meet Pamela. She better be a good listener."

Under the mask, I think I can see a smile. "She is."

And I know I must have imagined it, but later, I could swear that he mumbled under his breath, "And so am I."

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

She gapes at me.

I sigh. "Not what you expected me to say, Brienne?"

She shakes her head. Finding her voice, she stammers, "I- I- didn't know-"

"Yes!" I say with a single, bitter laugh. "That was intentional. I do not, and will not, regret the time we spent together. Both as coworkers and as suitors. What I regret is giving up so much of myself in the process."

Brienne frowns and puts her hands on her hips. "I never asked you to do that. You can't put that on me, Ari."

I rub a hand down my face, trying to stay calm. "I'm not! I didn't even mind being in your shadow. What I minded, is that you never acknowledged what I was doing for you. I felt more for you than you did for me, and I knew that. That's why I didn't say anything." My eyes flash with sadness. "I didn't want to hear you say the words I knew you felt."

She opens her mouth, but I shake my head. "We're done. This," I gesture between us. "It's over. We were happy, but we aren't anymore, so it's time to move on. Goodbye."

I turn and walk away without waiting for her response.

She didn't even try to give one.

"Don't say you regret it. Before... before everything, we were happy."

"Happiness is relative. I must consider what I might have been capable of if I had not contented myself to live in your shadow so long."

"You weren't—"

"Hush. You want to dredge up the past? You want to know if there is something there to salvage? Fine. It is my greatest regret that I ever loved you."

I stare for a minute. There are...a lot of people standing around my front door.

I shake myself out of my surprise. "Can I...help you? Your Highness," I add hastily, sweeping into a deep curtsy.

The prince takes a small step forward. "We are looking for a Miss Anastasia Ryntz? We were told this is the correct residence."

My brow furrows in confusion. I feel like I'm missing something. I fidget with my threadbare apron as I slip between the guards and start fumbling with my keys to unlock the door.

"Yes, it is," I say slowly, ushering the crowd inside. "I'm Anastasia. I'm sorry, not to be rude, but why are you here?"

The prince looks around, distinctly uncomfortable in my very small house. With all the guards and his advisors, the room is very crowded. I wince as one of the guards tries to turn around and knocks a vase off my lone table.

The prince sighs and rubs the space between his eyes. "Really, Cass? That's it, everyone out." Balancing the cake in one hand, he uses the other to shoo at everyone. They look at each other uncertainly.

"I'm serious!" he yells. "The only people who are staying in this house are the lady, myself, and Grimms." He gestures at his closest advisor.

Slowly, my house empties, and I awkwardly offer the prince the one chair I own. "Would you...like to sit?"

He accepts gratefully, his advisor standing behind me, me across the table. The silence stretches for a few minutes before he jumps a bit in his seat. "Oh! I- We brought you a birthday cake!" He shoves it across the table eagerly.

I stare at it, then at him, confused. "Why?"

The prince frowns. "Well...it's your birthday, isn't it?"

I nod slowly. "22nd birthday. Why do you know that? And why do you know my name?"

The prince fumbles with his words for several seconds before his advisor - Grimms - sighs and speaks up. "Prince Auron is here to speak with you about something of the upmost importance. Are you the only person in residence? This is a private matter."

"Yes, it's just me." Dang it, I know my voice sounded sad there. I don't want them to think I'm a loser! "I live alone. By myself." Yeah, that was so much better. Whatever. "Anyway, what's up?" Facepalm.

Prince Auron clears his throat awkwardly. "You, of course, are aware that I am the youngest of the royal family. As such, on my birthday this year, when I came of age, I was given a prophecy about my future in the kingdom."

I nod. This isn't news to me. The prince's oldest sister will inherit the throne and his older brother will lead the armies and advise the crown. The third child is always a bit of a wild card.

"Does your prophecy have something to do with my business?" I ask. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be." I snort with derision. "You can see how I live."

Prince Auron fidgets. "Ah. Yes. Well, not really."

I wait, then when he doesn't elaborate, I sigh. "Your Highness, I would love to help you, but I can't do that unless you actually tell me what you need."

He blurts out. "I need you to marry me. Please."

I blink. "I'm sorry. What?"

You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. I can go all day."

"No. I can do it myself."

*wince* "Well, not so much."

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm not giving it to you."

*shrug* "Fine." *nods at Character C*

*Character A turns in time to see Character C hit them hit something heavy, knocking them out*

*Character B takes the object from Character A* "Sorry. It's for your own good, you know."

Writing Prompt #2880

"Stop trying to help me. I can do this myself."

"Quite frankly? You can't. You're one mistake from having a nervous breakdown or hurting yourself because you can't think clearly. Now, swallow your pride, and give that to me."

The first few times, I didn’t understand why everything felt so familiar. I would wake up at 16 with nothing but vague dreams from every time before. My room sometimes looked different than I thought it should. Eventually, I started to keep a diary. Strangely, it always stuck around when the clock reset. 

That was how I figured out the timeline. 30 whole years. I lived from 16 to 35, and on the morning of my 46th birthday, I would wake up at 16 again. 

Once I realized what was happening, I tried to make the best of it. I lived each time out differently, reading about everything I had done before in my diary.

One time, I married my best friend. The next, I married someone I met in college. A few times, I didn’t get married, once I didn’t go to college.

I had four kids after I graduated, then one kid during college, then no kids at all.

Once, I had a kid before I was even out of high school. 

Saved my father’s life, didn’t get there in time.

Got arrested (only made that mistake once), became a bad influence, became a good one.

Got an office job, worked as a police officer, tried my hand at acting, singing, dancing, tried graphic design.

Made friends, lost friends, made more.

I made plenty of mistakes, especially in the beginning. But then, doesn’t everyone? Some of them I made over and over again, but some mistakes you only make once.

I never figured out what was causing me to reset my life. 

But I didn’t really care.

See, most people only get one life, no matter how long or short it is.

My life may have only been 30 years, but I got to do it over and over again, however I wanted.

In my opinion, that’s a gift.

I love my life.

You are caught in a time loop but instead of resetting you daily, it resets you every 30 years

Sylvie looked away. "Can we not talk about this?"

Brady shook his head. "No. I want to know the truth. I am an awful person! I'm not proud of it, but at least I know that. Why do you keep me around?"

"Please," Sylvie begged. "I don't want to talk about this. You're a good person. Let's talk about that fire you helped put out last week, or the person you saved from the kidnapping three days ago. Or hey, we can talk about how you aren't too proud and boastful!"

Brady frowned. "Sylvie, I'm not a good person. I started the fire on accident, the person still got hurt, and I literally brag any chance I get. Why the hell haven't you kicked me to the curb yet?!"

Sylvie shook her head quickly. "No. Not happening. I'm not talking about this."

She started to walk away, but Brady reached out and grabbed her arm.

"You can't even tell me why I don't suck!" Brady's voice was rising, ignoring the pleading look Sylvie was sending him. "I'm going to leave before I actually hurt someone, and you can't say anything to make me stay!"

He finally dropped her arm and started to turn away, leaving Sylvie standing there.

Brady was halfway to the door when her voice stopped him.

"You want to know why I keep you around?"

He nodded without speaking, without turning around.

"Because I love you."

Writing Prompt #2884

"You know what? I fucking suck! Like, how the hell do you even put up with me?"

"Hey, don't say that about—"

"Why not? It's true. I know don't have enough redeeming qualities to keep around."

“Are you kidding?” I exclaim, backing away. 

“Alright, calm down, Eleanor,” my adoptive father says nervously. “It was just an option. I just thought maybe you would want to see your family and friends again.”

I scoff. “My family was three days from marrying me off to the worst man in the village. I only had two friends, and one of them died two years before I left. Richard…I could see him again, but not at the cost of leaving here!”

“It was only an idea.” My father rubs his head. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I fold my arms. “I love you. You were more family to me than anyone in my original time was. And don’t forget, I was sucked out just a few years before the Black Death. Chances are, I wouldn’t have survived, so the anomaly likely saved my life.”

My father just nods, still looking guilty. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” I say gently. “I get to spend my days here with you, go out with my friends on the weekends, I don’t have to get married, or take care of kids. Best of all, indoor plumbing!”

He laughs at that. “True.”

Later, I thought about the words I had said to him. 

Every single one was true.

I was happy here.

And plumbing is fantastic.

You were born in the Medieval Age, but at 15, a time anomaly brought you to the modern era, where a scientist adopted you. Now, 11 years later, they’ve found a way to send you back and asked for your opinion, but your answer is clear: “Hell no.”

“Hey!” I cry out in shock. Jason obviously can’t hear me, up on the platform through the screaming crowds, as he kisses Ella soundly on the lips.

When they pull apart, Ella’s face is red. They turn to the crowd and bow proudly.

I am in shock. There are tears pouring down my face, but I can’t feel them. I stare numbly at the stage. I pinch my arm to make sure I’m awake. 

It’s not a nightmare. It’s real.

The tall guy next to me looks over and frowns. He shouts over the noise, “Hey man, are you okay?”

I can only shake my head, eyes locked on the stage where Jason and Ella are holding hands and staring at each other as they answer questions from the reporters.

The man takes my arm, leading me onto a side street a few blocks away, where the noise is significantly reduced. 

“What happened?” he asks, offering me a bottle of water. 

“Tha-that’s my girlfriend,” I say shakily. 

His eyes go wide. 

“And,” I continue, gulping the water. “My best friend Jason. We’ve known each other since we were six! And Ella…”

I can feel the tears now, hot tears falling down my face as I start to sob. 

The man sighs deeply. “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough. I’m George, by the way.”

He offers his hand to shake, and I accept it with a shaky laugh. 

“Dylan.”

I wipe my eyes roughly, trying to stop the tears. Now that I’m a bit less shocked, I’m angry. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” George asks carefully. 

My hands clench into fists. “We’ve been dating for three years! I was going to…”

My voice trails off and I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small box. I thrust it at George angrily, putting my head in my hands. 

George doesn’t have to open it to know that the box contains a ring.

“I was going to ask tonight,” I whisper. 

He tries to hand the box back. “Call her. Or him. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

I know deep down that he’s wrong, but I can’t ignore the brief hope that flares up in my chest at the possibility. 

I fumble my phone out of my pocket and desperately press Ella’s name, putting it on speaker. 

George and I listen to it ring several times before she picks up.

“Hey, baby!” Her voice is breathless. “I’m kinda busy, can I call you back?”

I close my eyes, hearing the crowd in the background. “Where are you, Ella? I was going to surprise you at work.”

This was true. That had been my pan before the whole fiasco happened and the streets were blocked.

“Oh, you know,” she says. “Just…in the back, working on something.”

“Sweetheart,” I say quietly. “Have you seen or talked to Jason today? He was supposed to meet me for lunch, but he never showed up.”

“Jason?” Ella’s voice jumps up an almost imperceptible note. “No, I haven’t seen Jason today! Listen, I’ll call you back in a few hours, baby. I’m really busy right now, you can stop by then, okay?”

George shakes his head slowly, eyes angry for me, a bit sad.

I can’t stop the tremble in my voice as I say, “Never mind, Ella. I saw you. It’s over between us. You can tell Jason the same thing from me. I don’t ever want to talk to you ever again.”

I stare at the phone in front of me as Ella gasps and sputters, protesting. I can’t bring myself to hang up.

So George leans over and does it for me, turning my phone off and handing it back to me.

“I, uh, left my bag back there,” I mumble, pointing back to where we had come from, where the crowds were still screaming. 

George nods. “Look, I gotta get back to work, but I put my number in your phone. If you wanna catch up later, talk, get coffee, whatever, just text me.”

I nod, with a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

I push my way back through the crowds, miraculously finding my things right where I had left them. Ella and Jason are still on the platform, though now they look considerably less happy.

But their hands are still tangled together between them. 

Ella scans the crowd. Eventually, her eyes find mine. She nudges Jason and they both lock eyes with me, clearly pleading with me to talk to them.

I find it funny that in doing this, they ignore the reporter currently talking to them. He looks confused, trying to see who they are looking at.

I shake my head and turn around, pushing my way out of the crowd.

I hope my disgust was clear on my face.

You squealed as the heroes unmasked and kissed in front of the roaring crowds. Wait…you recognize their faces…that’s YOUR best friend and YOUR girlfriend/boyfriend.

The prophetess gave me a look. “That’s disgusting.”

I shrugged, unable to keep the smug grin off my face. “But it worked. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. And, I got a date!”

She groaned. “Priorities, Isabel, priorities!”

I frowned. “I’m sorry, was “get Isabel a man” not number one?”

“No!”

I laugh. “Teasing, Anna! Chill out. He’s cute!”

Anna groaned again. “Please, just call it off. Fight him, win, everything is solved.”

She rubbed her temples as I shook my head apologetically. 

“Sorry,” I said. I really was a bit sorry. I liked Anna. Truthfully, I had gone to the meeting place with every intention of ending everything. But he was just so sweet, and when we started talking, we couldn’t stop. Masks came off, and one thing led to another and then we were kissing. 

When I relayed the details of the meeting to Anna, she could only shake her head.

“I hope you’re happy,” she grumbled. “Messing with prophecies and fate. It’s a nasty business, and you never know how it’ll turn out.”

I didn’t respond, knowing my words would only hurt. I turned and left the room, hiding my face.

Anna was my best friend, and I didn’t want her to see the hurt she had caused me. 

I would go on my date tonight with the former villain, and hopefully Anna would still be here when I got back. 

No one, not even my best friend, could tell me what to do.

"I said you were destined to lock fists with the villain! Not lips!" "Well it worked, didn't it?"

Edward strolled through the woods, whistling as he carried a basket of rolls on his arm. He’d been walking for almost two hours, but his feet were still light as he practically skipped through the shadows.

There was a low growl that stopped him in his tracks. He peered through the darkness. “Juno? Is that you?”

The answering snarl that came had Edward groaning. Of course it wasn’t. This happened at least every other time he came to the woods.

Still, he couldn’t stop the shiver of fear he felt travel down his spine when the creature stepped into the light. It looked like a leopard, but it was an odd shade of red, and almost as big as a hippo. 

Edward didn’t move, closing his eyes against what he knew would happen next. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the attack came.

A rush of air and a sharp growl as the creature pounced, a roar, a yowl as the creature was tackled to the ground. Then, a wet slashing sound and a whimper. 

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Edward asked awkwardly.

A smacking and gulping answered his question. He swallowed, feeling slightly sick. 

“Never mind.”

A few moments passed before the clearing fell silent. 

A sweet voice broke through Edward’s thoughts. “It’s clear now.”

He opened his eyes and grinned at the young woman standing in front of him. “Thanks.”

She shrugged, returning his smile. She reached out a hand and he took it, walking with her to the small, hidden cabin where she lived.

Edward set his basket of rolls on her table. “Here you are, m’lady. The monthly bribe to not eat me or anyone else.”

She laughed. “What did you bring me this time, Edward?”

He pushed it toward her, and she opened it, gasping with delight at the fresh rolls. “My favorite! Thank you!”

She immediately grabbed one and started eating it. 

Edward laughed. “Slow down, Juno! I didn’t think you’d have any room left right now! Did you see the size of that thing?! What was that, by the way?”

Juno swallowed with a gulp. “Red leopard.” She snickered at the look on Edward’s face before she took another bite, speaking with her mouth full. “Creative, I know. And I’ll always make room for your baking. Especially rolls!”

Edward laughed, but didn’t say anything. 

It took Juno a moment before she noticed, but when she did, her brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s wrong? It didn’t hurt you, did it?”

“No,” Edward rushed to reassure her. “I’m fine. I just don’t understand why you won’t come back with me. No one would care!”

He ignored the raised eyebrows Juno sent him. “It would be fine, it would! I’d make sure no one bothered us!”

Juno sighed, putting down her roll. “Because, they would care. Your village may not be very smart, since they haven’t figured…this out. And it’s been almost three years. But they would definitely notice if you brought a girl out of the woods and the “monster” disappeared without a trace.”

“They wouldn’t know it’s you!” Edward insisted. “They don’t know that you can shift. They just think you’re the wolf shape. They wouldn’t have to know! Please,” he begged.

Juno looked away. She couldn’t resist that face. 

“So…what?” Edward finally said, hurt. “What are we doing? I can’t live in the woods with you. I’ve only survived this long because of you. I’d be dead in the first week. You won’t come back to town with me.”

Juno closed her eyes, shaking her head. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Edward whispered. 

There was a sharp breath, and then both of them had tears sliding down their cheeks. They cried silently together for several minutes, neither of them wanting to move.

Finally, Edward stood slowly. 

“No,” Juno pleaded. “Don’t go.”

She knew that if he left now, he wouldn’t come back.

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked quietly. When she shook her head, he sighed. “I’m sorry. Please…spare the village. If you’re mad, take it out on me, not them.”

“Just go,” Juno ground out. “I’ll leave them alone.”

Edward walked to the door and opened it, then paused, turning back. “If…”

Juno looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He sighed. “If you change your mind, or come up with another solution, you know where to find me.”

She nodded.

Her plan had backfired on her. What had started as simple fun and games, had turned explosive, and it had just blown up in her face.

She never expected to get hurt in the process.

Every so often, the local baker must bake something and personally deliver it to the monster in the woods, and in exchange the monster leaves the village alone. What no one knows is, the monster actually has a huge crush on the baker and needs an excuse to see them.