Writingprompt - Blog Posts

It was a hit and run type thing, her apartment had been broken into.  But, as criminals go, once you become one the police don’t particularly like to help.  Alara gave a broken, raspy cough.  Panicking would do her no good now.  She wasn’t afraid of death, almost welcoming it.  But she didn’t want to leave him alone to clean up her mess.

“What kinda problem exactly?”  He sat up, swinging his legs off of the bed and rubbing the bridge of his nose.  Normally he wouldn’t be quite so concerned about why she was calling at whatever godforsaken hour this was, but this time... this time something was different.

Her breathing grew shallower, and she bit her lip trying to hold back a whine of pain before completely breaking down in sobs, curling around herself.  She pulled her hand away from her stomach and watched the drops of blood fall off of her fingers onto the floor.

“Alara?”  His voice was sharp, all of the warning lights going off at once.  “Alara what’s going on?”  He flicked the light on, wincing at the brightness as he began the search for his jacket. 

“Something happened...”

“I know that already.”  He growled.  “So help me tell me what’s wrong.”

“Someone broke into my apartment.”

He stopped dead in his tracks for one split second, before shaking himself out of it.  She lived only a mile or two away, it would be alright.  

“Are you hurt?”  He asked carefully.

She hesitated in her answer.

“Y-you’re... Evan you’re not going to make it in time.”  Her voice was soft, soothing.  As if it would help.  

Writing Prompt #124

A sat crying, finger hovering shakily over the call button. B would be asleep, and they didn’t want to wake them- they were a bad enough morning person as it was. But they needed help, and desperately. They didn’t think they had much time left.

The phone rang for a while, the tone echoing throughout the stone walls of the room they were in, before B’s croaky voice answered.

“What sorta time do you call this?”

“Hey, B…” A said, their voice small, “I’m sorry to wake you up… I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important…”

“It’s… it’s okay,” B replied groggily, “what’s up?”

“I have a slight problem…” said A, “I’m uh… in a little bit of trouble-”

“Oh…? That doesn’t sound good.”

“No…” A sobbed, looking down at the blood beginning to seep through their shirt. “It’s really not.”

🦀 The Stars Said I Could (a totally not-legally-a-mad-lib Cancer fic filler)

Mars was in (emotion), the moon was in Cancer, and I was about to (verb) someone’s entire (noun).

All because they said “(petty quote)” like I wouldn’t remember it forever.

I put on my (adjective) lip gloss, grabbed my (object), and texted (name):

“You have five minutes to explain or I’m crying in your voicemail again.”

Fill it in, tag me, and blame the stars.

“She might forgave him, but I'm a Cancer. I archive pain and I plan revenge”

This week’s prompt comes straight from the heart… and the emotional glovebox where we keep the glittery knife.

Tag @PlotArcade or reblog if you write something—I wanna see all the soft-core emotional carnage 💅

✨ Fic Filler Time ✨

This week’s theme is “He’s Giving Daddy Vibes,” and your assignment is simple: fill in the blanks and let chaos reign.

_“He walked in smelling like ____, wearing ____, and looking like ____. I knew I was in trouble the second he ___.”

Drop your version in the tags or reblog with your additions 🖤 Let’s see what flavor of trouble y’all are brewing this time.

This week’s prompt is brought to you by: the moment you realize your roommate’s dad is giving main character energy.

“When my college roommate said all her friends hit on her dad, I thought she was crazy. Then I met him.”

Fill it with chaos, longing, awkward brunches, whatever you like. Reblog with your fic, tag #ficpromptfriday, and don’t forget: this is adult energy only.

🔞 DILF content. Keep it hot, not creepy.