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dandelionprints · 23 days
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God he’s gorgeous
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ARTHUR: No, we're waitin' for Tommy.
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dandelionprints · 1 month
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Stop putting your fucking x readers in the main fandom tags, people don't want to see all your shit when scrolling for gifsets and actual posts
I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I haven’t posted for quite a while now as I haven’t been active on here for a few months. Thank you for your input though, have a nice day x
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dandelionprints · 3 months
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Peaky Blinders Season 4 | Episode 1
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dandelionprints · 3 months
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I think he broke my ovaries!
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dandelionprints · 4 months
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😫
This is my 1000th post 🤎
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dandelionprints · 4 months
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Promise I’ll be back soon, this time of year always has my mood so up and down, hope everyone is doing well! ❤️
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dandelionprints · 4 months
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The thoughts going round in my head right now😏🤤
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Peaky Blinders Season 4 | Episode 5
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dandelionprints · 4 months
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800 FOLLOWERS!!
I’ve been on hiatus for the last month or so and have just come back to 800 followers which is CRAZY?!
Thank you all so much for any feedback, reblogs, likes and comments given, it really does mean a lot for a part time fic writer who doubts herself a lot like me🥹😂 also thank you to those who still tagged me in things whilst I was away and to anyone who takes the time to have a conversation with me😂❤️
My secret goal was to get to 600 by Christmas so to surpass that by a couple hundred really has made my day!
Love you all x
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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Always one of my faves❤️
🎃 Corrupt A Wish 🎃
Welcome back to another corrupt a wish story! With thanks to the lovely anon who requested this - I changed this slightly from how you described it honey, I hope this is ok. I didn’t really mean to but this is what came out when the writing gremlins took over, so I hope you like it all the same! ♥️
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader
Prompt: “don’t worry, everything will be alright”
Warnings: Controlling relationship. Forced drugging.
Reminder - Corrupt A Wish stories are by their nature darker. If you think this has a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention.
Word count: 3278
Tea
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You sat at your dressing table, brushing your hair in long sweeping strokes. Three of you looked on from the triplicate mirrors on the table, as you counted the strokes in your head. Always one hundred before bed; your mother had told you that it would make your hair shine, and after her passing you had been extra diligent in her honour.
Martha came in with your evening tea, arranging the pretty cup and saucer on your nightstand as you finished brushing.
“Ninety-nine… One hundred!,” you exclaimed under your breath, smiling at the three women before you, who smiled back.
You slipped from the stool and settled yourself in bed, pillows freshly plumped by Martha, moments before. Your well rehearsed evening dance.
“Will that be all madam?,” the maid asked quietly.
“Yes, Martha, thank you,” you agreed and the younger girl bobbed a courtesy and made to leave the room.
“Isn’t it exciting, Martha!,” you cried before she could reach the door. She turned to smile at you. You had been giddy about Tommy’s news all evening.
“A party! A real party!,” your exclaimed, glowing with excitement.
Tommy had come home unexpectedly early from work that evening, though he was now once again ensconced in his office, with the news that you were to attend a charity function the following weekend. He would buy you a new dress and you would be the belle of the ball, he had said.
It was simply too exciting! Since your wedding six months earlier, you rarely had the chance to mingle in society. Tommy preferred that you stayed at Arrow House where he could be sure you would be safe. With his line of work there were people who would hurt you, to hurt him. But you didn’t mind. You had your books and your horses and crafting occupations. Why would you want to be anywhere else?
‘You should want to be somewhere else!’ shouted a little voice in the back of your mind.
You frowned. What on earth made you think that? What nonsense. You only wanted to be here with Tommy…
“Drink your tea, Mrs Shelby,” said Martha, still lingering at the doorway, watching you carefully.
You shook yourself, gathering the steaming cup in your hands, toasting her as she smiled and left the room.
You smiled to yourself. A party! What fun!
****
A week later and your preparations for the ball were in full swing. There were still five days until the event but true to his word, Tommy had bought you a new gown.
He had swept into the bedroom the previous morning, as you sipped your morning tea in bed, clutching a long garment bag. You squealed with excitement, scrambling out of bed to see what he had bought you.
“Oh Tommy!,” you cried as you unzipped it find the most glorious deep green velvet gown. It was cut modestly at the front but plunged down at the back, almost dangerously low. Your eyes were like saucers as you examined it. He never usually let you wear anything so revealing.
“Do you like it?,” he asked quietly, smirk dancing on his lips as smoke curled around his head from his perpetual cigarette.
“It’s beautiful, darling,” you breathed, running your hands over the soft brushed fabric. “Rather risqué though?,” you smiled and he raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“Thought I’d show them all what they’re missing,” he grinned back, allowing you to cover his face in kisses of gratitude.
He was always spoiling you with pretty things. You were the luckiest wife in the world.
‘Are you?’
That nagging voice in the back of your mind appeared again. You pursed your lips in a frown. Of course you were the luckiest wife in the world, why would you think otherwise?
“Drink your tea, love,” he said, light blue eyes searching your face, an expression in them you couldn’t quite place. And then it was gone, so fleeting you weren’t even sure it had been there at all.
“Don’t want it to get cold, eh?,” he added, kissing your forehead as you settled back into bed with the newspaper. Tea and the news, your morning ritual. You hummed in response and he disappeared off to work.
****
“Oh blast!,” you exclaimed as the hot liquid splashed everywhere and the delicate china of your favourite teacup shattered on the hardwood floor.
You were just going to bed and the whole thing had slipped from your grasp, smashing to smithereens. The door opened a moment later and Martha came rushing in.
“Are you alright madam?,” she cried, hurrying to your side. She was such a sweet girl, you thought.
“Yes, I’m quite alright, Martha. I just dropped the cup. Butterfingers!,” you reassured her, spreading your hands in a gesture of exasperation.
“I’ll fetch you another tea, Mrs Shelby,” Martha said quickly, mopping at the split liquid with a rag from her apron.
“No, no, it’s quite alright. I don’t really feel like one tonight anyway,” you waved her away. The weather was beginning to grow warm and you weren’t in need of the comfort of a hot cup of tea.
“It’s no bother, ma’am. I’ll bring you one up when I get the sweeping brush for the mess,” said Martha in a rush of breath.
‘No!’
You started at the intensity of the voice in your head.
“No, thank you, Martha. Just sort the mess, that will be all,” you said smoothly, trying not to betray how shaken you were.
The girl left to fetch the broom and you pressed a hand to your chest. Your heart was racing. Perhaps you were ill?
‘You’re not ill. You’re just remembering. Try and remember Y/N!,’ the voice wailed in your head and you covered your ears as though that would drown it out.
What were you supposed to remember? You squeezed your eyes closed but nothing came. You had a perfect life. Tommy was a perfect husband, even if he did work a little too much. There was nothing to remember…
The flashback hit you like a train. Tommy’s face twisted in a cruel smile as you struggled in his grasp, his hand wrapped around your throat.
You gasped for breath, heart pounding. When was that?! Tommy would never treat you like that!
Martha reappeared with the broom and you fought to control your emotions whilst she tidied the broken porcelain.
As she finished, she fixed you with a hard stare - you felt flushed and clammy and she must have been able to tell.
“Are you alright, Mrs Shelby? Shall I fetch Mr Shelby?,” she questioned you, a little less deferentially than usual you thought.
“No, I’m fine. You can go,” you said hurriedly and she frowned. “Thank you,” you added, belatedly, and she left the room, taking the remnants of your teacup with her.
The tea!
You realised with a start where the memory was from and your eyes filled with tears, drawn by a strength of emotion you didn’t understand.
‘Don’t drink the tea!,’ the voice whispered as you choked back the sob that clawed in your throat.
And then from a flash of recollection the rest of the picture took shape before your mind’s eye. Images spooling as though you were watching someone else’s life on a screen at the pictures.
In a rush you remembered meeting Thomas Shelby OBE at the Grace Shelby Foundation annual gala. He was a widower, handsome and enigmatic, but the way those cold blue eyes bore into you made you shudder. You knew - everyone knew - his wife had been killed in unexplained circumstances a couple of years before. You remembered the slow smile, the baring of teeth, as he surveyed you, eyes sweeping up and down your form appraisingly.
A month later your father called you to his study where he told you that you were to marry Thomas Shelby. The family was in some sort of trouble and only Tommy could help. He had asked - no, demanded - you in return. He had set his sights on you and there was no alternative but to acquiesce.
You had only been married a few unhappy weeks when you overheard him talking with Dr Clarke. The two men, heads close together discussing you in hushed tones. Apparently he needed you to be subdued. You were not the wife he had wanted, too headstrong and rebellious, not the demur little doll he had purchased from your father. He had only ever seen you in polite society and he had been deceived. You were making trouble and becoming unruly. That would not do.
Of course you were unruly, you were furious with your father for bartering with you as he had, using you as nothing more than collateral in a business deal. Your mother would never had allowed it, had she been still living. You were determined to make both men pay.
Tears slipped down your cheeks as the waves of memories cascaded over you. But the worst was to come.
You remembered Tommy, holding you tight in his grasp, almost choking you as he forced a bitter liquid down your throat. You had refused to drink it, knowing that Dr Clarke must have given him something to drug you. You could hear him like he was next to you, whispering terrible things in your ear about how much of a fucking disappointment you were. How you belonged to him, his property. And that it was time you learned to behave.
Snapping back to the present, you heard his familiar tread on the stairs. Panicking, you quickly tried to recover yourself, wiping your cheeks and switching out the light. You slid down into the bed, feigning sleep just in time for the door to open.
The light from the door cast a wide arc of light across the room and you tried to stay as still as possible. Controlling your racing heart and erratic breath. He looked in at you for a long moment, before closing the door, his footsteps retreating along the landing and back downstairs.
‘Don’t drink the tea,’ whispered the voice.
You resolved that you wouldn’t any more.
***
The next morning, you pretended to sip the tea Martha brought for you with your paper, until you were left alone. As soon as you could, you rushed to the bathroom and tipped the contents away. You continued this ritual both morning and night. You noticed, for the first time, how the maids, and occasionally Tommy, would pay special attention to you drinking each time.
Of course, they must be in collusion with him. The thought made you weep. To be so betrayed by people you trusted. Martha in particular.
With each cup not consumed your memory became clearer, your wits sharper. Memories crystallising, making your heart ache at how you had been used, and your feet itch to flee. The walls of Arrow House closed in around you. How could you ever have thought this was all you needed?!
Out of necessity, you play-acted the role of the dippy, devoted, simpering wife. Was this really the wife he wanted?? You couldn’t comprehend how a man as clever as he could be content with someone so vapid. So devoid of thought, of intellect and conversation. You had to bite your tongue constantly not to scream the truth at him. Your mouth tasted of copper every mealtime in his presence.
And as you sat through dinners with him, hatred bubbled inside your chest.
You had to get away from his man before it was too late.
*****
The evening of the charity ball arrived. You allowed yourself to be primped and preened by a small army of women, to render you acceptable to be shown off to the public by your husband.
You had come to realise over the last few days that this was all Thomas Shelby OBE wanted. A docile little wife with a good name and a pretty face - even in your anger you had to admit you looked very beautiful tonight. The dress he had bought you fit like a glove, giving just enough away to catch eyes but not so much as to encourage stares that would cause people to lose theirs.
What kind of woman Tommy Shelby of Small Heath wanted, however, was beyond you. Though you suspected she charged by the hour.
“You look almost perfect, princess,” he murmured against the shell of your ear and it took all your strength not to recoil. “I have a gift for you,” he added, pulling a velvet box from his breast pocket.
“Oh Tommy!,” you exclaimed breathlessly - not entirely an act because the contents was genuinely breathtaking. A long strand of brilliant, winking diamonds, with a large teardrop shaped emerald in the centre.
He smiled as he picked it up and motioned for you to face the mirrors on your vanity. The three women in the mirrors watched on as he clasped it around your slender neck. It weighed heavy against your breastbone, and for a moment it felt like a chain, binding you to him. You swallowed, shaking your head lightly to dispel the feeling, and forced a smile to your face.
“Thank you, darling, it’s beautiful,” you said, fingers touching the cool stones.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he replied and you wanted to retch.
You were conveyed to the party and arrived as it was already in full swing. All the better to make a grand entrance, you assumed, as you plastered on a demur fake smile and allowed Tommy to escort you into the room to a sea of attention. Sightings of Tommy Shelby’s young new bride were rare. A jewel unexpectedly out of its display case for the evening.
Murmurs and whispered gossip ebbed and flowed around you as he paraded you around the room.
After a while, you spotted Ada across the room and your heart leapt. She couldn’t possibly know what her brother was up to. She would never stand for it! She would help you.
You were just about to take off to see her when you remembered your place. You turned to your husband and batted your eyelashes at him, fixing a sickly sweet smile on your lips, as you trilled to ask permission to see her.
He nodded briefly, dismissing you, caught in conversation with some terrible bore with a potbelly and hairline so receded it was practically a neck warmer. You didn’t hesitate and shot off across the room.
“Ada!,” you called, catching her attention and carefully, trying not to draw the looks of others, manoeuvred her into a quieter corner. You wobbled slightly as the two glasses of champagne you’d had since arrival took effect. You needed the courage, you told yourself.
“Ada, I need to talk to you. Please, you need to help me!,” you said, clutching her hands, words tumbling over one another in a rush. You didn’t know how long you would have until he came looking for you.
“Goodness Y/N! What’s happened?,” Ada exclaimed, bright eyes filled with worry. Your cheeks were warm, flushed, probably from the champagne. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth.
“I… please… I—” You couldn’t seem to get the words out.
A gentleman approached and tapped Ada on the shoulder, calling away her attention.
“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry. Tommy needs me to work the room here and there’ll be hell to pay if he thinks I’m gossiping in the corner with his wife. I’ll find you later and we can talk?,” she apologised, squeezing your hands quickly in hers. She disappeared into the crowd and you wanted to cry.
“There you are,” came Tommy’s low voice behind you and you jumped in surprise.
“Oh Tommy! You scared me!,” you said, hand pressed to your chest, feeling your heart jumping. He proffered a glass of champagne, which you took, grateful for the alcohol to stave off the sting of having missed your chance with Ada.
You drank it quickly as he began to tour the room again, arm wrapped possessively around your waist. You could feel the warmth of his hand against the bare skin of your back. Solid and protective.
You couldn’t seem to keep track of the conversations fluttering around you. The bubbles seemed to have gone to your head much faster than usual but then, you rationalised, you hadn’t really eaten much over the last few days.
You paused, searching your memory at that realisation.
Why hadn’t you eaten much, you mused, unable to recall exactly. There was a feeling in your stomach but not something you could quite put your finger on or describe.
Tommy passed you another drink and you sipped it slowly, not wanting to be drunk and embarrass him in front of people he was clearly trying to impress.
About an hour later, Ada appeared at your side as you stood by an open window, desperately searching for some fresh air. It was so stuffy here. There were so many people. How you longed for the solitude of Arrow House.
“Y/N?,” she asked, studying you with a furrowed brow. Whatever was the matter with her.
“Yes Ada? Are you alright?,” you enquired.
“Are you alright?,” she said, frown deepening in confusion. “You said you needed my help? You seemed upset?”
“Me? I’m right as rain, darling! Just a little warm,” you chirped, laughing and kissing her cheek. “How lovely to be at a party, though I do miss home. All these people, you know?,” you continued, waving a hand as you sipped your drink. You had lost track exactly how many glasses of champagne you’d had. But the dizziness from before had stopped and hey ho, it was a party after all!
Tommy appeared from nowhere, wrapping his hands around your waist, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss below your ear. You spun in his arms and pecked a kiss on his lips.
“What are you two over here whispering about, eh?,” he asked, grinning wolfishly but you saw his eyes flick to his sister.
You tapped his nose with your finger. “All sorts of naughty things,” you giggled back, as Ada silently watched on, brow still furrowed.
“Can we go home soon, darling? I think I am quite partied out,” you asked sweetly and he smiled.
“Yes of course, princess,” he replied, dropping a kiss to your forehead.
You nodded brightly and excused yourself to use the ladies room before the journey home.
“Is she alright, Tommy?,” you heard Ada ask as you walked away. “She seemed upset earlier.”
“She’s fine, Ada, she’s just not used to the company. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright,” he replied.
A little bubble of loving warmth popped in your chest and you smiled to yourself.
Your Tommy would always take care of you.
****
You arrived home and your heart swelled at the sight of your beautiful house. Making your way up to bed, Martha met you in the bedroom to help you undress from your evening gown.
“Fetch Mrs Shelby her tea, Martha,” ordered Tommy, joining you in the bedroom, pursing his cigarette between his lips as he sat down to take off his shoes. The maid scurried off to do his bidding.
“Tea and then bed, after a lovely party,” you cooed, brushing your long hair, untangling the knots from your earlier elaborate hairstyle. “What could be more perfect?”
You caught his eye in the mirror from his spot on the bed, and he smiled softly at you. The three women in the mirrors smiled back.
You sighed with happiness.
You really were the luckiest wife in the world.
*********************
She really should have been more careful with her drinks 😳 I hope you all enjoyed! As ever, feedback makes the dream work so let me know what you thought in however you feel most comfortable. Reblogs are the pinnacle though, so go on, do something nice today 😘
Part 2
Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @gypsy-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercup32sstuff , @notyour-valentine , @valentinabloom , @theoshelbyjones , @shelbydelrey , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @heidimoreton , @ladygreythethird , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @raincoffeeandfandoms , @cillianmxrphy , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @peakypoet , @kittycatcait219, @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude
🎃 Corrupt a Wish Masterlist
MASTERLIST
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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There’s three more left if anyone wants to take them! I’ll be starting them soon✨
REQUESTS
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I’ve decided that I’d like to take on some requests with the help of you wonderful lot!
Below, I’ve chosen 8 prompts that I found to be creatively inspiring, but here is where you come in.
You can send me an ask (anons are welcome) and tell me which prompt you’d like me to use, what context (e.g fluff, angst, comfort etc) and if you’d like to then you can also request the scenario! You can also send me in your own prompt with the context and scenario and I’ll see what I can come up with.
I do only write for Tommy as he’s the only character that I really feel comfortable with writing (I may branch out into other characters at some point but who knows), so if this sounds like something you’d like to join in with then please do send me a request!
Prompts
- Wouldn’t it be better to tell her even if the timing is wrong, than to never tell her at all?
- They only realised they were holding hands the entire time, the moment they had to let go. (Taken)
- “I will always love you. Even when you’re old and wrinkly.” “Thank you. But I probably won’t last that long.”
- “You’re naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.” (Taken)
- "You deserve everything." (Taken)
- “Just close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.” (Taken)
- “I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.”
- “You’re normally the tough guy. Today, let me be tough for the both of us.” (Taken)
All prompts are by @creativepromptsforwriting
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders S1E3
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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nothing will ever amaze me the way fanfiction authors do. like, you wrote silly little stories about my favorite little guys? and i can read them?? for free??? that’s fucking wild.
you poured your heart and soul and very being into your writing and then put it out there for anyone to read? insane.
you spend a truly incredible amount of time writing novel-length, high quality stories, again, FOR FREE, that anyone can read, again, FOR FREE??
shoutout to every single fic author in existence, you guys are fucking incredible and i love all of you so much
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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Peaky Blinders Season 3 | Episode 6
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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"why is all the fic in my fandom so short"
maybe the fic writers are tired. maybe they prefer short fiction. maybe they have pets and kids and school or full-time jobs and can't devote 24/7 to writing fanfiction. maybe they write on their phones while commuting and shorter is easier to manage. maybe they write for zines, which by nature have limited word counts. maybe they write slowly. maybe their motivation comes in bursts and they churn out oneshots when that happens. maybe they can't find someone to brainstorm with so they never wrote the fic at all. maybe the last time they posted a longfic they didn't get any comments, or a reader only said "write more" and they gave up. maybe the fandom is toxic. maybe they saw a passive aggressive tumblr post at 5:26am.
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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Usually it’s video games instead of music but this is pretty much accurate hehe
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dandelionprints · 5 months
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REQUESTS
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I’ve decided that I’d like to take on some requests with the help of you wonderful lot!
Below, I’ve chosen 8 prompts that I found to be creatively inspiring, but here is where you come in.
You can send me an ask (anons are welcome) and tell me which prompt you’d like me to use, what context (e.g fluff, angst, comfort etc) and if you’d like to then you can also request the scenario! You can also send me in your own prompt with the context and scenario and I’ll see what I can come up with.
I do only write for Tommy as he’s the only character that I really feel comfortable with writing (I may branch out into other characters at some point but who knows), so if this sounds like something you’d like to join in with then please do send me a request!
Prompts
- Wouldn’t it be better to tell her even if the timing is wrong, than to never tell her at all?
- They only realised they were holding hands the entire time, the moment they had to let go. (Taken)
- “I will always love you. Even when you’re old and wrinkly.” “Thank you. But I probably won’t last that long.”
- “You’re naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.”
- "You deserve everything." (Taken)
- “Just close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.”
- “I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.”
- “You’re normally the tough guy. Today, let me be tough for the both of us.”
All prompts are by @creativepromptsforwriting
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