This was hilarious :). I was actually going to use this at some point too :), but Torri beat me to the punch. It's alright, it's all good. I love it. So here is today's prompt, I'm excited for you to read it.
Prompt: “You can’t be a spy…you’re my little sister.” / “If you haven’t noticed, we have several men after us. This is not the time for you to question my career-“ / “Does mom know about this?” / “Can we please save the questions for when we are not about to die?” / “Okay, I’m guessing you did not tell mom.” Andrew ducked as a bullet whizzed by his ear, barely missing his ear. He was still cowering in the corner when he heard more gunshots. This time it was coming from his side. He glanced up. There was his little sister, a gun in her hand, shooting at all the people that were after them. “Are you a spy?” Andrew asked as she came to his side. She didn’t answer, but the look on her face was enough of an answer. “You can’t be a spy!” Andrew said. His sister rolled his eyes. “Come on,” she said. She didn’t have time to deal with him. They needed to get a move on if they both weren’t going to die. “You’re my little sister,” Andrew’s head was still spinning. She grabbed his hand and raced to a safer place. “If you haven’t noticed,” she said, ducking as a shot rang out above her head, “We have several men after us,” she shot at her attackers, one of them fell as the bullet hit its target, “This is not the time for you to question my career-“ She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as another gunshot rang out. She pushed him into an alley. “Does mom know about this?” Andrew asked. He knew that he had more to think about. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about something so trivial at the moment, not when all of this was going on, but it seemed like his mind was stuck on stupid and that’s all he could think about. “Can we please save the questions for when we are not about to die?” she asked. She wanted to slap him silly. He was being absolutely stupid. She glanced around their surroundings, hoping to find an exit. Luck was on her side. There was a fire escape she pushed him toward the ladder and up to the roof. “Okay,” Andrew said, climbing up the ladder, “I’m guessing you did not tell mom.” She rolled her eyes and pushed him forward. She would deal with his stupidity later. If they were still alive.
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Here is a two in one :).
Sorry, yesterday was hectic, but here was the prompt for yesterday. I chose to do Rumplestiltskin, because honestly, if you look at it from his side, he did get kind of the bad end of the deal. He did all the work, and all he wanted was payment, payment that she agreed to, and then she reneged on it and he got nothing. Prompt: Write a fairytale or another well-known story rom the POV of the villain They tell me that I’m the bad guy. That I got what was coming to me. But who is really the bad guy here? Really? If you think about it for just a minute. Let me tell you my side of the story and then you can decide for yourself. I was going about my business when I heard the sound of sobbing. Naturally curious, I slipped inside the room and was bombarded with a room full of straw and a girl sitting on top of it, crying. I asked her what was wrong and she told me that she had lied to the king and that she told him she could spin straw into gold and she really couldn’t. Well, not one to pass up someone in need, I offered her my services. Since I knew how to spin straw into gold, I said I would do it for her, however, like any good service, it can’t come for free. There has to be a price, right? Any good business man would tell you that. So I told her that if she gave me her first born child then I would spin the straw into gold. She agreed to the terms set so I went about spinning straw into gold. I was planning on going easy on her, maybe even offering to let her see the child every once in awhile, but then she made me do all the work and fell asleep on me, didn’t even help me move the straw or anything. So, since she didn’t help, why should I go easy on her? For days I did that. Spun for her while she fell asleep and then took all the credit. There was no way I was going to give up what was owed to me, not after that. So, when I heard that she had married the prince I was delighted. When I found out she was pregnant I was over the moon. Life was great. I was finally going to get my payment from the lazy queen. When she has the baby, I go to take what’s mine, and she refuses. Fine. I’ll offer her a deal. Not that she deserves it after what she did the first time, but I hate tears, I really do. So I tell her that if in three days she can’t figure out my name then I’ll take the child, however if she can she can keep the child. No one knows my name. No one. So I figured it was an easy way to get what was mine. The first few days were just as anticipated. She didn’t know my name. She went from ordinary to insane, but never my name. I was feeling pretty confident. Probably too confident. I shouldn’t have celebrated until I got the child, but no one knew of my lair either, or so I thought. She had her servant come invade my privacy! How dare she! She cheated! She owed me a child! I never should have made that deal. She is the real villain. I was just trying to get back what was mine. Prompt: “Are you sure he likes me?” / “Were the sixteen boxes of chocolate, two dozen roses, and letter directly telling you that he likes you, not enough of a confirmation?” / “He might have meant to send all this to someone else.” / “Your name is literally on everything here.” The dorm was filled with flowers, chocolates, and all kinds of romantic things. It looked as if someone had bought every Valentine thing in the store and had placed it in their dorm room. “Someone must like you,” Anne joked with Jenette. “Are you sure he likes me?” Jenette asked. Her stomach fluttered with excitement at the thought, but at the same time, her mind was warning her to not get too attached to the thought. She couldn’t afford to get her hopes up. “Were the sixteen boxes of chocolate,” Laura asked, picking up the chocolates, “Two dozen roses,” she smelled the nearest roses, “And letter,” she picked up the letter on top of it all and skimmed through it enough to get the gist of what was said, “Telling you that he likes you,” she finished when she finished her reading, “Not enough of a confirmation?” Laura stared at her roommate. With a gesture like that, how could anyone still be in doubt of the other’s love for them? It made no sense. Obviously, he loved her. He was head over heels, by the looks of it, and yet, Jenette was still questioning it. “Well, he might have meant to send all this,” she gestured to all the gifts, “To someone else,” she suggested. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened to her. She had been used as a practice dummy for men to figure out how to tell other women that they loved them. She had been the listening ear to men telling her how much they loved someone else. She had been the recipient of many gifts, as a way to gauge the reaction of a girlfriend, which would then be taken back once the reaction was deemed favorable. She had even been the recipient of a wrong gift. She had accidently intercepted a gift that was meant for someone else. She had also accidentally intercepted a love confession, again meant for someone else. So, no, it wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened. That was probably the case here. Lance had sent all of this to her on accident. He was really trying to send it to someone else, maybe Anne or Laura, or someone in the same apartment. Or maybe he had put the address down wrong and put her address on all of this and his girlfriend’s address on the small little nothing Valentine that he had given her. That would make sense. “Your name is LITERALLY,” Anne said, picking up all the boxes of chocolates, the notes in the roses and the letter, “On everything here.” “So?” Jenette asked. That was a little harder to explain, but there had to be an explanation. “Maybe his girlfriend has the same name?” That was possible. People had the same name. It happened. That must have been it. It would also make the mix up on the addresses make more sense too. “Read the letter,” Laura said. There would be no doubt of Lance’s love for this Jenette, once the letter was read. I'm a sucker for prompts like this. I love whumper/whumpee prompts. The I'll take care of you prompts. Things like that. They are my bread and butter :).
Prompt: Can you stand?” A asked. /B nodded shakily, trying to pull themselves to their feet. Just as soon as they managed to get upright their knees buckled. B’s vision went blurry as they tried to grab the wall, or anything, really, to stop them from- A catches them before they hit the ground, helping B sit back down. “S-sorry,” B stutters, “I-“ “It’s okay,” A slips a hand under B’s legs and another behind their back and picked them up easily, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Allen looked over at Felicia, her body seemed broken and her leg was sticking out at an odd angle that couldn’t possibly be natural. “Can you stand?” Allen asked, reaching Felicia’s side. Felicia nodded her head shakily, even though she felt faint and dizzy with pain. She tried to pull herself to her feet. She had just managed to get her feet underneath her when her knees gave out and refused to hold her upright any longer and they buckled under the weight. Felicia’s vision went blurry as she tried to grab at the wall, or a tree, or anything that she could possibly find to keep her from falling to the ground. Allen caught her before she hit the ground, and helped Felicia sit back to the ground. “S-sorry,” Felicia stuttered. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t like her at all. She was always so capable. So focused. Nothing fazed her. It scared Allen to see her like this. “It’s okay,” Allen said, slipping his hand under Felicia’s legs and another behind her back and picked her up easily, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” After all Felicia had done for him, he could take care of her. Due to the holiday, Torri- my writing friend- and I have decided to not do a writing prompt today.
However, I wanted to take this time and reach out to everyone and wish them a Happy Thanksgiving. Even amongst the turmoil of this year, there are things to be grateful for. Take some time today to look around you and think about what you are grateful for. Prompt: I’m not good at putting my feelings into words….that’s why people misunderstand me.
Allen looked over at Felicia, his heart filling with love for her as he waited to hear what her response would be to his declaration of love. “I’m,” Felicia said, “I’m just not good at putting my feelings into words,” she looked over at him abashedly. It seemed to be a family trait. Hunter was bad at putting his feelings into words too. And Mara didn’t talk about her feelings either. Saralee seemed to be the best at communicating her feelings, but even she seemed to struggle to put things into words when it came to feelings. Felicia couldn’t help wondering if it had always been this way. Had they always been so unable to communicate their feelings, or had the trauma of that night stolen away all of their voices, rendering them mute when it came to the communication of feelings. “That’s why people misunderstand me,” Felicia finished. Like her mother, people thought that because she didn’t communicate her feelings, because she kept silent, that she didn’t feel the way normal people did. Not necessarily that she was heartless. No, they knew better than that. But they didn’t understand her lack of communication and the reasonings behind her actions. She had pushed away a lot of possible friends, and boyfriends because they didn’t understand that for her, actions were the way she expressed her feelings, or they misconstrued her actions as something else. “I’m not asking you for a long soliloquy about how much you love me,” Allen said, putting his arm around her. He knew that she loved him. It was evident in her actions. The way she took extra time to help him train. The way she watched out for him to make sure that he didn’t get killed in battle. The way she allowed him into her nightly rituals- an honor that not even her mother or Hunter were given. She didn’t have to give him a big speech, or even say the words. He knew. He just wanted to make sure that she knew how much he had loved her. Felicia allowed herself to relax into his arms before turning and kissing him, making sure he had no doubt about her love for him. Prompt: He saw who took her but he was only a child. Now, he’s a detective determined to find out the truth.
No one listens to a child. He had learned that all too well years ago when he lost his best friend. He saw exactly who had taken her and in what direction she had been taken. He even knew where she had probably been taken, at least temporarily. He had tried to tell the police, he had tried to tell both of their families, he had tried to tell anyone who would listen, but no one would listen. After all, he was only a child, what could he know? He had grown up. The memory of his missing best friend haunted him, and guided him to become a detective bent on finding missing persons. Unlike most detectives he knew, he never disregarded the testimony of a child, and because of that, he often ended up finding the missing person in record time. As he solved other missing person cases, his friend’s disappearance was always on his mind. He searched databases for the person who had taken them. Her face haunted his dreams. Finally, when he had nearly given up all hope of ever finding her, he got his missing link. “Tell me what you did to her!” he ordered, as he arrested the kidnapper, on an unrelated charge. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a shrug, as if it hardly mattered. Blood boiled inside of him. “Tell me!” he threw the kidnapper up against the wall and pinned him there. “She’s under the porch,” he sneered. Orders were given and they dug under the porch. After years of searching, his best friend was finally coming home. Prompt: What is this….this thing between us?
Hunter was too involved in what he was doing to notice that Carrie had come up behind him. With her behavior lately, he hadn’t expected to see her there anyway. While at night she seemed to crave his presence and his comfort, during the day she both seemed to try and avoid him and hover around him almost simultaneously, as if she still hadn’t forgiven him, but didn’t want to be away from him either. “Oh,” Hunter said, nearly knocking his weapons to the ground. He wasn’t startled easily. Not even Felicia or James could manage to sneak up on him. Only Carrie had the ability to startle him with her presence. “What are you doing here?” he asked. She didn’t say a word, she just came up close to him and placed a kiss on his lips. Hunter stood still, his eyes widening, but he didn’t pull away. He allowed the kiss, and slowly, when Carrie didn’t start to pull away immediately, he began to deepen the kiss and brought his arms around her so that he was holding her to him. “What’s going on here?” Jesse asked, with an ‘ooh’ tone in her voice. She couldn’t help but laugh as the couple jerked apart and looked almost guilty at getting caught in whatever it was that they had been doing. “Nothing,” Hunter shook his head. Jesse smiled and nodded, and quickly slipped her way out of the room to let them continue what they were up to. “What is this,” Hunter asked when they were alone again, “This…” he didn’t know how to describe what was going on. This wasn’t something he was used to. He had no words for this. “This thing between us?” he finally finished. “It’s,” Carrie breathed, “I like you,” she admitted, “And I’m done fighting it.” She leaned in and kissed Hunter again. Now Hunter had to figure out what to do with that information and his own heart. When I saw this prompt today, I had envisioned it going a different way. Maybe having one of these nightmare assassins coming in and saving me from some of my nightmares, or maybe a scene where one of these nightmare assassins is actually doing their job, I'm not sure, but I know one thing, when I first saw this prompt, this was not the way I saw this prompt going.
Another thing I know? That I am actually glad that this is what came out, instead of what I had planned. It is far better than anything that I was thinking of when I sat down to type. I'm glad that when I finally sat down to write today's prompt that something took over and I just started typing. I didn't think. I let it carry me away with its story, I let the words fly onto the page as quickly as my fingers could type. It created a story far better than I could have ever come up with. Obviously, it was a story that needed to be told. I am proud that I was the person it chose to tell it. Prompt: Write about dream assassins who are tasked with fighting nightmares that disturb people’s sleep. I’m a killer. An assassin, really. You wouldn’t know it to look at me. I’m an average looking person. Most people can’t even tell if I’m a man or a woman, or how old I am. No one can tell where I come from. I belong everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I both exist and I don’t exist at the same time. I am a shadow. Fading from people’s memories almost as soon as they see me. I like it that way. It makes it easier to do my job. You see, I really do kill for a living, just not the way that you might think. I don’t kill with a gun, or a knife, or any of the normal weapons you would think an assassin would utilize. No, my methods are far more hazardous, and far more deadly. Unlike other assassins, you can’t hire me for my services. I’m not a gun for hire. I pick and choose who I’m willing to help, and what I let fall through the cracks. People don’t come to me to simply end someone’s life. They come to me when they are at their wits end, when they can’t take it any longer, when the sleepless nights have started to drive them mad, that’s when I come in. Most of them don’t even have to come to me. I’ll find them. My clients are easy to spot. They are the exhausted. The tired. The weary. The ones on the edge of a cliff. The ones barely holding on to whatever rope they can find. The ones who are thinking the only light at the end of the tunnel is the light that beckons you into the next life. The ones who can see no reason to keep going through the darkness. The ones who have no hope. The ones that monsters plague. The ones that night after night stay awake, hoping that the longer they prolong sleep, the more likely it will be that the nightmares won’t come. It never truly works that way, but they hope it all the same. Although they tend to be the most silent of clients, to me, they cry louder than any noise. Although they feel as if they can’t be seen, I can see them, clearly. My eyes are open to them. My ears hear their pleas. And I answer them. Yes, I’m an assassin. But not of people. I am assassin of monsters. The monsters of people’s minds. I fight off the monster’s that people’s minds create. I fight off the nightmares that torment people’s sleep. I am an assassin of the night. Prompt: You always smile like you’re about to cry….why?
Carlotta smiled sadly at the joke. It was a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. A smile that rang false. “You always do that,” Marcusio said. “Do what?” Carlotta asked innocently. “You always smile like you’re about to cry,” he explained, “Why?” Prompt: Of course his curiosity got the best of him. There’s a door in a tree. There’s only one thing he can do, really. Open it.
Curiosity killed the cat. Wasn’t that the phrase that was always said to keep people from snooping, or doing something that they weren’t supposed to? Johnathan hated that phrase. It grated at his very soul every time he heard it. Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the cat. All it was really saying was to keep your nose out of things. It was a way to control people, and get them to do what they wanted no questions asked, because curiosity killed the cat, so it was better to just ignore things and keep your head down. It killed adventure. It killed inquisitiveness. It killed the ability or desire to get answers. No, Johnathan was a much bigger proponent of coming back with ‘But satisfaction brought him back.’ Every time someone dared tell him that curiosity killed the cat, he would simply look at them and tell them that while curiosity did kill the cat, satisfaction had brought him back and he would continue to be curious, and refused to be held down by that stupid saying. His natural curiosity was the reason he was in the woods in the first place. Everyone always said not to go in the woods. Well, he wasn’t just going to let that slide. He wasn’t going to ignore his burning curiosity. He wanted to know why the woods were so bad, and why no one talked about them, or dared go in there. So, in the early hours of the day, he slipped out of his house and made his way into the woods. There he found a tree. A tree with a door. Naturally, his curiosity got the best of him. After all, there as a door in a tree. That wasn’t something that a person saw every day, or even once in a lifetime. It definitely wasn’t normal. So really, there was only one thing that he could do. There was no question about it. He had to open it. He opened the door and stepped inside. His world, the woods, all slipped away and he found himself lost in a sea. Sea animals swam by him, looking at him oddly as they passed, but paid him little heed aside from that. He had found a portal to another world. A world where he was one with the animals. One with the sea. Satisfaction had brought him back. |
Skye BallantyneI am very excited to welcome you to my blog! Hope you enjoy! Categories |