#prompted writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

get-prompted · 2 days

Text

Prompt;

Everybody sits around the campfire, laughing and cheering and telling stories. It might just be paranoia, but you swear you saw a pair of animalistic eyes in the dark. And you SWEAR there was only 10 people here before, not 11.

27 notes · View notes

autumnsunshine10 · 6 months

Text

I could spend all my mornings

Wrapped up in blankets

Like this--your hand in mine

My head on your chest

Wallowing in our lazy Sunday best

Betting on endless tomorrows

The relentless sun seeks us out

Wishing to shine as bright and hot

No such luck but it gets us up

Still I sip my coffee with a smile

Drain the last drop while you wrestle

With the urge for a smoke

Instead you light on my lips

Zoom in till there's zero room for doubts

Then you're wearing my grin

As if it's always been that easy

Effortless, like nothing else

I've never known moments

Like this could exist

Prompts: you and I this morning; wrestling with smoke; still I

#smittenbypoetry #twcpoetry #poetryportal #abstractcommunity #prompted writing #original poem #inspired #love poem #lovers #in love #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poetry #love #wnq writers #writerscommunity #poets on tumblr #desire #autumnsunshine10

189 notes · View notes

uncertainwallflower · 2 months

Text

GIGGLING GROWN MEN For @jilymicrofics March 2024. Prompt: horrified. Words: 447.

“What did you do?” hissed Lily in her most venomous whisper, watching, horror-stricken, as Sirius and Peter totted her husband—one of his arms slung over a shoulder each—down the little pathway from the gate to the front door in which she stood. Amendment: her very drunk, very nearly unconscious, and very bald husband.

Remus, who made up the rear, shutting the gate—which he dwarfed with his long lean frame—behind him, shyly offered what to Lily was no explanation at all but to the boys—not men, boys—supporting James was funny enough to nearly drop him into the azaleas. “Sirius bet him his broom he couldn’t down a bottle of firewhisky then walk across the river and back.”

“On the ledge!” adding a guffawing, evidently also pissed, Sirius.

“Yes, on the ledge.”

A million and one thoughts raced through Lily’s mind. Did he really drink the whole bottle? What if he drowned? How fast was the river? He’s probably got alcohol poisoning! What was the spell charm to induce vomiting? Had they had dinner like they planned? What if he caught hyperthermia? Oh, god, he definitely had alcohol poisoning. Why are they so stupid? She gnawed at her bottom lip, flattening herself against the doorjamp to allow the giggling grown men into her hallway. They carried James through to the small loungeroom and dropped him on the small sofa, his long limbs sprawling out in his mindless state, then deposited themselves in various squashy spots about the room; and Lily picked her way around and over their legs to reach James, pressing a cool hand to his warm cheek.

He peeked a bleary eye open, probably only enough to gauge light and shadow. His glasses were bent and smeared with algae. He cracked a grin. “Lily.”

“Hello, love.”

His smile fell away and he frowned, closing his eyes again with a groan as he pressed his cheek into her palm. “It’s all his fault,” he said to no one and everyone, but probably meaning the one who proceeded to kick out at his foot. James muttered a groggy “Fuck off, Sirius” and Lily sighed, turning on the other three. She pulled her palm from James’s cheek—he protested with a whine, reaching blindly out for her—and set both hand on hips, brows raised.

“And what happened to his hair?”

James paused his search for his wife and reached instead for his scalp which sported a few uneven tufts and fair amount of short stubble, the result a poorly—or intoxicatedly—performed sheering charm.

Sirius and Peter fell into another fit of giggles and Remus sighed heavily. “That would be the other bet.”

AO3

#jilymicrofics #FOR GRYFFINDOR #post hogwarts #jily #bella's microfics #uncertainwallflower #lily evans #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #cw alcohol #prompted writing #microfic

75 notes · View notes

fallevs · 2 months

Text

Hey, I wrote something!

Here's the story prompted by @kurtsascot genious mind. Plus, it's betaed by her, whom I thank so so so much.

This is a tender, sweet little thing that will make you spend a lighthearted fifteen minutes; thank you if you'll read it.

💙

Summary:

"I'm not going to watch videos of people tapping things to sleep. I'm not that desperate." "You dozed off while pouring coffee and spilled it all over the table. In my opinion, yes, you are."

You can read it ✨️ [HERE] ✨️

#klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #prompted writing #asmrartist!kurt #asmr kurt #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #glee #klaine

26 notes · View notes

dolores-hazy · 9 months

Text

As Is

Such a tempting treat

All sweet yet sultry

Slick lines and eye-catching

Curves softly begging for touch

On display at the right time

To entice and excite

Calling to mind multiple uses

Utilitarian to the sublime

But before signing off on the line

Check for an extended warranty

Read any fine print carefully

Just because there's a guarantee

Doesn't mean a damn thing

The sparkling clean gets messy

Honey can turn bitter eventually

It's not always faulty goods

Claiming anything as one's own

Has its risks as well as rewards

All that laid out, the offer stands

If you'll still have me

I'm yours

66 notes · View notes

koumine · 2 years

Note

consider this: mc convinces Lucifer to watch the devildom equivalent of jeopardy with them, and obviously Lucifer probably knows all the answers BUT mc makes their own game out of it. Lucifer has to answer every question while mc is pleasuring him in some way, and it's basically just a game of how long he can last before his brain melts and the show is forgotten entirely. Also there's the question of is there a reward for getting it right, or a punishment for getting it wrong? Normally if someone liked the punishment, it would just be incentive to get them wrong, but we're talking about the avatar of pride, ain't no way he's doing that.

this idiocy brought to you by your friendly neighborhood 🐍

this excellent idea brought to us by our friendly neighborhood 🐍!!!

content tags for below: dom!top!MC x sub!bottom!Lucifer, GN race neutral MC, cockwarming, teasing, spanking, mild humiliation.

Consider: both rewards AND punishments. >:3 Hear me out.

MC gets Lucifer to cockwarm them. He has to stay put and sit patiently in their lap while trying not to be too distracted by how good he feels having their cock inside him.

Whenever Lucifer gets an answer correct, MC rewards him with a nice little thrust or two, maybe a stroke of his cock as well.

And at first Lucifer gets everything correct, of course. One promptly given, confident, correct answer after another; almost entirely keeping his composure, other than when MC thrusts up into him and he quietly moans. But that composure can't last forever.

Eventually, Lucifer starts taking too long to answer, too distracted by thinking about how much he wishes MC would let him ride them properly, and oh dear, oh no, now MC has to punish him. >:3 A sharp spank will suffice, hard enough to make him jolt in their lap, to make him gasp, to distract him even more with pain layered over pleasure.

He'll try to focus again, but no matter how hard he tries, he'll start not only answering too slowly, but actually getting answers wrong. No, he can do better, he is better, he ---

He moans as MC spanks him again, shivering as the overlapping spank marks on his ass burn with delicious pain. Misses the next Devil in Jeopardy prompt entirely as a throb of vague humiliation at his failures moves through him, and he curls in to press his face against MC's shoulder. Tries one more time to listen for the next prompt, but MC spanks him twice just because they can, and finally his brain melts into pure pleasure and pain and he loses track of the game entirely.

1K notes · View notes

seasidepierre · 2 years

Note

Oc/reader vs charles for the comfiest blanket? Adore you!

Adore you too, Nonie 🥹🫶🏻

You're not gonna lie, you knew your fave past time on track was seriously a soresight in the garage. While everyone was listening attentively to the radios and watching the race with laser focused eyes, you were knitting behind a pile of boxes, managing your stress by keeping your mind and hands busy. You'd knitted a lot, already, while dating Charles. Each season spent next to him brought a set of matching jumpers for you and him, your first one having a couple of holes from missed stitches here and there. But Charles loved his forest green jumper with your initials on the sleeve to bits, so he never really minded the fact that he looked like he got into a first fight with a cat when he wore it. You promised a couple of times that you'd fix it, but he loved it, holes included.

So when, during the interseason, you decided to tackle a blanket, Charles' racing friends originally laughed at you. Charles joined on the fun, half heartedly. He knew better than to blatantly tease you on this, when he knew it was just a way for you to keep your nerves in check.

The blanket had turned out to be amazing.

Well.. amazing to a certain degree, because you couldn't fit two people underneath it and Charles had developed a certain affection for it.

Long story short: you often fought for the damn blanket.

"Charles, where's the blanket?" You called out to him.

You could hear the piano in the living room, there was no doubt he was playing right as you spoke out.

"No idea!" He replied.

You sighed, sitting on the bed. The days had turned cold, even in sunny Monaco. You were freezing your butt off and couldn’t wait to wrap yourself, burrito style, in that damn fluffy and soft blanket that you spent forever knitting with knitting needles so big they could have been murder weapons.

You decided to go check the living room. Maybe Charles took it to the couch and forgot he had left it there.

But the vision you got greeted by was of your boyfriend wrapped in the blanket, sitting at his piano, pouring his soul on the keys.

“So you haven’t seen the blanket, huh?” You smirked.

“Nope. I only see black and white keys, look,” He demonstrated, showing his field of vision by cupping his face with both hands on each side of it.

“You’re annoying, Charlie, I’m cold.”

“Yeah, well so am I.”

“I knitted that thing. I should have the priority over it.”

“You should have knitted it bigger, then. At least we could cuddle underneath it.”

“You know, if we really put an effort into it, we’d both fit under it.”

“Huh?” Charles stopped playing.

“Come lay on the couch, big boy. I’ll show you how you can fit two bodies under a blanket.”

Charles’ weight resting on your entire body as he piled onto yours ended up being the perfect addition to your already extra comfortable blanket. Just like Rose and Jack, there sure was enough space to fit two people, actually..

#ask #prompted writing #cozy night #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc self insert

160 notes · View notes

merlinsbbeard · 1 year

Text

Bucking Brooms & Bloody Bludgers

@jilymicrofics Prompt: pain, words: 1404, content warning: head injury.

James groaned, eyes blinking wildly as the Hospital Wing ceiling came into focus. The sound around him was muffled, overcome by an unrelenting monotonous ringing in his ears. Pain split and re-split his skull. His nostrils stung with an overwhelming scent of chemicals. His very fibres ached, and he briefly wondered if this was how Remus felt after the full moon.

James was not unfamiliar with the Hospital Wing. He had had many injuries and ailments over the last six years at Hogwarts, but none so alarming as this.

That morning—James hoped it was that morning—was the onset of the last match of the year. Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. Stakes were high, as Gryffindor was beating Ravenclaw for the Cup, and Slytherin was beating them all. The game was Gryffindor’s to lose, and if they did they would be plunged into third place.

It was because of this, that inter-house rivalry was significantly more potent in the antecedent weeks than they had been all year. Somehow, the air in the Great Hall was tenser than when Severus Snape had deflected Sirius’s Entomorphis Hex outside Defence Against the Dark Arts that February—James agreed that “the slimy git deserved it”—and hit a passing-by Hufflepuff, whose head sprouted feelers and back sported a pair of wings. The corridor had turned into an all-out riot, with students of all houses getting involved.

Despite the relatively early hour of the morning, the Great Hall was packed. Students were roving about the four banquet tables; many were placing bets and breaking into rehearsed chants, and more than once Professor McGonagall reprimanded groups for waving banners inside.

James sat closest to the doors; with him were Sirius, Remus and Peter, as well as his teammates. He had been pushing his eggs around his plate for the past ten minutes; the mere smell of them made him want to yack, but a worm in his ear named Sirius had been telling him to “eat up” and that he would “need the energy for the game.”

“Good luck, Potter.” Tommy O’Connell, a seventh-year Gryffindor, clapped James on the back as he passed by.

James winked over his shoulder at him, and turned back to his plate. Deciding that Sirius was right, he quickly ate as much of his plate as he could keep down—his stomach was roiling with nerves. “Ready?” he asked his team.

“Ready.” Owen Atkinson, a burly fifth-year Beater nodded once, confidently, but secretly his hands shook beneath the table.

Libby Marsh and Mya Gardner agreed, smiling uneasily up at their Captain and fellow Chaser. And Monty Burns, the other Beater, looked positively green. Their Seeker, Marlene McKinnon, only nibbled at the corner of her toast, eyes fixed on the oak tabletop, where Cohen Hughes, the Keeper, had planted his face as soon as he sat down with the group.

“Go get ‘em, Prongs.” Remus smiled reassuringly at him.

“We’ll be rooting for you.” Peter’s face was red and gold with paint, and he held two measly thumbs up.

James nodded stiffly at them and rose from his seat, followed by the rest of his team. He had just crossed the threshold into the Entrance Hall when he collided with someone that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Watch it, Potter,” a scathing voice spat. It was Tadhg Wilkes.

James was all too familiar with Wilkes. He was one of the youngest in the Slytherin gang, along with Snape, who was standing a little away from the commotion. Wilkes was renowned amongst their year group for hexing first and second-years, and getting away with it. He was otherwise a star student, Prefect, and part of the Slug Club.

“Wilkes.” James levelled his gaze with the shorter boy. “Don’t go tripping over now, you might hurt yourself.”

Wilkes’s hand shot to his waistband where his wand was stowed, apprehensively. “Worry about yourself, Potter. Quidditch is a dangerous game…”

James had shaken off the odd exchange and put it down to theatrics. In fact, it was the last thing on his mind when his Nimbus 1700 had suddenly lurched from beneath him.

“GRYFFINDOR IN THE LEAD BY NINETY POINTS,” the commentator, a seventh-year Hufflepuff named Michael Kelly, yelled into the microphone.

James felt it lurch again. He muttered to it, “Come on, don’t do this to me now.”

Mya flew past him, Quaffle tucked securely under her arm, followed by Libby who yelled at him to get back in the game.

James took off once more, regaining control of his broom. He felt the sheer power of the thing rush through his fingertips and into his veins. It felt like he possessed pure energy.

“AND TURNER HAS STOLEN POSSESSION FROM GARDNER. RAVENCLAW IS BACK ON THEIR GAME.”

Simon Turner and his teammate Oli Dawson flew parallel up the pitch, looping to pass to one another.

James was quick to follow. He darted towards the hoops, wind stinging his face. Under the Seekers, left of the Beaters, right of the Bludgers, through the scrambling Chasers.

He was gaining on them.

James thought that if he reached out as far as he could, then his fingertips would surely have brushed the Quaffle. This was, of course, if he hadn’t been hit square in the abdomen with a well-aimed Bludger.

His lungs instantly lost capacity.

“POTTER HAS BEEN HIT. I REPEAT, POTTER IS DOWN.” The words rumbled in his head.

James barely had time to gasp for air before his broom bucked and he was flung into open air.

There was a collective gasp from the spectators as he plummeted towards the stands.

Limbs flailed in a frantic attempt to save themselves, grasping for what wasn’t there. His body was spinning erratically, faster than his mind could comprehend. The grassy pitch got larger by the second, but before he was even halfway down—

Crunch.

Hushed voices drifted in through the Hospital Wing doors, which had been left open a whisker, snapping James out of his dazed recollection. His ears had stopped ringing by then.

“I cannot allow him any visitors at the moment.”

“Please Madam Pomfrey, I won’t get in the way.” James recognised the disembodied voice.

There was a pause, then the door creaked, and two sets of footsteps scuttled in.

The sanitary-blue curtains around his too-small cot were harshly drawn open. Bright light flooded his vision, which he attempted to block with his hand. His arm, he now noticed, was bandaged with an itchy gauze.

“James.”

Lily Evans stood at the foot of the cot. Her eyes were frazzled and red from crying, her long titian hair uncharacteristically messy, her lips raw and nails gnawed to stumps.

“Be honest, am I still handsome?” His voice was wheezy. Weak from not being used.

Lily let out a half-laugh, half-sob. She rounded the cot, taking a seat at his side, and took his hand gingerly in hers. “Are you alright?” Her voice was brittle.

“Of course,” he squeezed her hand, casting her a reassuring smile.

Lily smiled in return. Watery and unconvincing. Her eyes kept flicking to his head, then back to his eyes.

James frowned. “Is there something wrong with my…“

He reached his free hand towards his scalp, where most of his pain stemmed from. His tentative fingers were met with a patch of supple new skin, where thick hair usually grew.

Lily swallowed loudly. “You hit your head.”

“Go on.”

“You hit your head on the stands on the way down and—and there was a lot of blood.” Her voice cracked. “Oh, James.”

She threw herself onto his chest—luckily Madam Pomfrey had already healed all the bruising—burying her face in the warm crook of his neck, breaking into tears for the third time that day. Her shoulders shook, tears and saliva dampening his ghastly hospital gown.

“It’s alright.” He stroked her hair soothingly, shushing her. “I’m alright.”

It was a small while before the sobs were replaced by slow breaths and the occasional hiccup.

Eventually Lily whispered, “I thought you were going to die,” though it was difficult to make out.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” he chuckled.

A deep breath. “The boys are outside. They probably want to see you.” Lily started to sit up but James swiftly pulled her back into him, further onto his lap. He nuzzled his face into her soft hair.

“Stay with me,” he whispered.

“Of course. Always.”

read on AO3

95 notes · View notes

iminkandpaper · 2 months

Text

Writing Prompt

"Sit. The fuck. Down."

"I'm sat."

"I said s- wait did you just do what I told you to?"

5 notes · View notes

obsessedwithegos · 10 months

Note

i want to brush Kira's hair with a little doll brush and then pull out any strand of hair growing from their head that is slightly too short or too long than the others :) - emmettnet

CWs: Tiny whump, Fairy whumpee, Fae Whumper, Dehumanization

"We have to make sure you're just perfect for the camera!" Bebê chimes, running the small plastic brush through Kira's hair.

Kira stares at themself in a mirror and the slowly growing pile of hair beside them.

"Has this one ever laid down?" The larger fae asks, flicking at the heart shaped piece of hair that stuck out from the rest.

The fairy shakes their head, they're a doll for now. Dolls aren't supposed to talk.

"Shame, it was cute." Bebê wraps the hair around their nail and yanks it out earning a yelp from the fairy. "Shhhh. Quiet. Save your sounds for later."

Kira bites the side of their tongue. They were pretty sure their scalp might just start bleeding with how harshly Bebê was pulling the hair out and how much they were pulling out.

general: @emmettnet @blackberry-bloody

#owe answers #emmettnet #prompted writing #short and not-so-sweet! :D #kira tag #kira writing tag #Bebê tag #Bebê writing tag #canon whump #tiny whump #dehumanization

14 notes · View notes

get-prompted · 5 months

Text

Prompt;

The princess will only marry her suitor if they succeed to beat her in a sword fight. Every single match loses. Except for the librarian, who didn’t even know how to hold a sword.

142 notes · View notes

autumnsunshine10 · 5 months

Text

They say keep it on the down-low

Nobody else needs to know

Don't give them the lowdown

It's not their business anyhow

Be human but set apart

Pretend you don't own a heart

Then it can't be broken

Divided into tokens

Inserted at the arcade

Another game to be played

Or a digital download

To keep them busy on the road

Serving up sold-out shows

Under the spotlight glow

A full house eager crowd

Getting so hyped-up loud

While you sit up at home

Waiting by the telephone

Well it's a good time to go

Since nobody needs to know

Prompts: on the down low; human but not; to be divided

116 notes · View notes

uncertainwallflower · 9 months

Note

HOW DID I MISS THIS????!!!! 😍😂

11. ❛ if you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up. ❜

With love,

Lily exposed James to the delights of the Muggle Telliephone on Wednesday and by Saturday he had the things mastered.

"Hello. Lily speaking."

His response was gravelly and somewhat hushed: "Oh good, I was worried your sister was going to pick up."

Lily laughed, twisting the cord around her finger and leaning a bony shoulder against the wall. "She's gone out with Vernon. Can I ask who's calling?"

"Voice doesn't give me away? Nor knowing that you have a sister? Goes by the name Petunia? Dating a hideous lump?"

Another laugh. "Afraid not. Pays to be sure you know, any old perv could be calling."

"Are you calling me a perv?"

"Might be."

She heard the brush of clothes as he rearranged his limbs—probably in indignation—then, in a tone that screamed upturned-chin, said: "Fair enough. Go on then, love, tell us what you're wearing."

She snorted at that. "How do you even know how to ask that?"

"Darling, you underestimate me."

A hum. "That much is apparently true."

He was chuckling too but the resonant twang of his voice denoted the underlying motive. "But really, what’re you wearing?"

"James Potter, if you called just to get off on my voice, I’m hanging up." She very nearly did, pulling the handset away from her ear and going to slam it back on the receiver knowing he'd get an earful of plastic and have to pay to call again.

But he cried, voice all crackly through the distance, "Wait, wait!" and her ear was back against the receiver, turning red then white with the pressure as he gravelled: "I can be over in five minutes. Just promise you won't be wearing anything when I get there."

She was quick to warn him off—but her heart wasn't in it—with a lousy, somewhat nasal, "Petunia will be back soon."

She could practically hear his smirk through the phone. "I can be quick."

@jilymicrofics

#it's official I'm saying these count for smutty jilymicrofics july #(in august)#prompted writing #jilymicrofics #muggle things #jily #bella answers #smut #ask game #lily evans #james potter #bella's microfics

176 notes · View notes

enchantingepics · 2 months

Text

Story Prompt 14

In the dimly lit room, shadows danced across the walls as the enigmatic figure leaned back in a plush chair, a sinister smirk playing on their lips. The air was thick with tension, a palpable mix of defiance and allure.

"Tragic?!?" they scoffed, the words dripping with amusement. "Oh honey, there's nothing tragic about me! I choose to be this way - You see, it's much more fun. And besides, 'villain' is just your interpretation, love."

The room echoed with their confident laughter, a chilling sound that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who dared to listen. The figure's eyes, pools of darkness, gleamed with a twisted joy, revealing a mind that reveled in chaos.

4 notes · View notes

dolores-hazy · 9 months

Text

I am lost among the stars

Floating drifting outside

Myself and coming to find

I can keep getting by

Without the pull of gravity

Pushing off from the astral plane

I feel welcome in this place

A safe space embraces me

Touched by cosmic energy

Coursing through me and all over

Tingling titilatingly along my body

I shiver under the ecstasy

Of feeling wanted and adored

Can't remember anymore why I cried

There is always aching inside but I

Taste the victory of carrying on

Pleasure pain desire disdain

Meltingintoone

Beautiful creation

Epic epiphany

Come on get lost with me

30 notes · View notes

thebackgroundmusic · 2 months

Text

“We were somewhere else…”

1

We were somewhere else

A place I’ve never been

And I know

That I will never go back

Like a dream

Specific to that moment

Unreplicable

But startlingly alive

Until waking

2

We were somewhere else

maybe among the stars

where time meant something

different

because I swear

I lived lifetimes

in those moments

3

Did it mean something different

In that place that we were

I don’t think it translates

To the here and now

As I run my hands over

The things we made

I no longer recognize the shapes

I’ve become convinced

That we were somewhere else

4

Take me to that place

That somewhere else

You go to

When your eyes get

That faraway look

And a smile

Creeps across your face

5

we were the

somewhere else

drifting in the

somewhere

looking for the

else

#writing #spilled ink #thoughts #poem #poetry #prompt #prompted writing

2 notes · View notes