Story Prompt 59
Under the warm embrace of the sun, a young woman took a seat beside a man on a bench in the park. The man's gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Startled by the intrusion, he turned to regard the woman, her presence stirring a flicker of curiosity within him.
"Beautiful day, huh?" she remarked, breaking the silence with a gentle smile.
"Mm," he murmured in response, his voice heavy with weariness.
Their exchange hung in the air, a delicate dance of words amidst a backdrop of silence. His eyes scanned the surroundings, observing the fear that gripped those nearby. His hands remained hidden within his pockets, fingers toying with something concealed within.
"What's your name?" she inquired, her voice soft and inviting.
He hesitated before replying, "Why do you want to know?"
"Because I'm tired of being strangers," she replied with a playful grin.
He shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet her gaze. She was a vision of serenity, her presence a balm to his troubled soul. Despite his reservations, he found himself drawn to her.
"I can't," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Then I won't tell you mine," she countered, her laughter dancing on the breeze.
Their conversation ebbed and flowed, punctuated by moments of introspection. He marveled at her beauty, so familiar yet enigmatic. She, in turn, found solace in his company, a kindred spirit in a world fraught with uncertainty.
"Do you know who I am?" he ventured, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
"Of course," she replied cryptically.
"Then why ask my name?"
She offered no explanation, content to revel in the shared silence. As they sat side by side, he stole glances in her direction, captivated by her presence. She, too, found herself drawn to him, a sense of deja vu lingering in the air.
"You know I could hurt you, right?" he warned, his words tinged with regret.
"Dangerous? Perhaps. Hurt me? Not likely," she quipped, her laughter a melody in the quietude of the park.
Their exchange took on a poignant tone, each word laden with unspoken meaning. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against her cheek. She smiled in response, a wistful expression in her eyes.
"It's time to let me go," she whispered, her form beginning to fade.
He watched helplessly as she vanished before his eyes, a ghost of his past slipping away into the ether. Alone once more, he was left to ponder the fleeting nature of love and loss in a world consumed by shadows.
6 notes
·
View notes
Thank you @aallotarenunelma for tagging me in WIP Friday. I have so many WIPs I could probably fill out 365 days well 366 days this year 🥰 So I’ll share some of my current WIPs with you.
Peppermint Kisses
Book: Crimes of Passion
Pairing: Rose De Luca x Trystan Thorne
“Cheer up Rosa. We’re trying to have fun. You do remember what fun is, right?“ Trystan grins and I give him an evil glare. Mafalda, Luke, Ruby and uncle Tommy snicker from the side.
“She actually doesn’t know what that word means. It’s not in her vocabulary.“ Luke teases. I take a marshmallow out of my mug and throw it at him. It hits him square in the face.
“Ugh. Gross.“ He rubs his cheek and we all laugh.
“There’s more where that came from.“ I taunt him and his dark brown eyes widen behind his black rimmed glasses.
Dear John - Part 1
Book: Open Heart
Pairing: Keiki Lahela x Koa Haulani
“What are these? They must be really old. And look, they're dated back from the 1940s. That’s during Pearl Harbor.“ She shudders. I pull her closer until she almost sits in my lap. She instantly relaxes.
“Where did you say you found these letters?“ I ask her and she picks another letter out of the pile.
“I found the letters down at Waikiki beach. They were hidden in the sand.“
“Damn Keiki, that's really cool. These letters date back a long time ago. Does it say anywhere who wrote the letters?“ I ask her and she opens up a letter and turns it over.
“Someone named Joy. No last name. She wrote it to the guy she loved. His name is John.“ She turns the letter over again.
We read the letter together, though it almost feels wrong to read lines in a love letter that wasn’t really meant for our eyes.
You make me see in colors
Book: Open Heart
Pairing: Luna Auclair x Bryce Lahela
”With the power vested in me I now pronounce you as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride. But please don’t turn it into a make out session. That would make for a very awkward scene. Just saying.“
Lunes and I grin.
I take Lunes' face into my hands and kiss her. It feels as if we’re kissing for the first time. Her lips faintly taste like grapefruit.
I smile against her lips. Not wanting the kiss to end.
Sky turns towards everyone.
”I represent to you Mr. and Mrs. Lahela.“
Las hijas de Luna
Book: Open Heart
Pairing: Luna Auclair x Bryce Lahela
”Okay that’s good Lu. That’s good. Just keep pushing.“ Meilani says in a soothing voice.
I get to Luna’s side.
Luna shoots me an angry look.
”Where the fuck were you B?“
I wince and then I smile at her for using a curse word.
”Let’s leave story time for after you’ve given birth. What’s important is that I’m here.“
”I’m going to kick your ass for this later.“
I grin and kiss her forehead.
”I wouldn’t have it any other way.“
Meilani grins and her head nurse Valerie standing next to Meilani, keeping track of the heart monitor.
Meilanis voice gets me out of my trance.
”Dad? Wanna do the honors?“
I squeeze Luna‘s hand and stand in the front to catch the first baby.
As I do, a loud cry fills the room and I suddenly hold one of my girls in my arms.
Valerie smiles next to me.
I look at my little girl, and a whole new love enters my heart. I wasn’t prepared for this feeling.
It’s as if my heart is going to burst from all this love. Making space for new people entering my life. I still can’t believe Luna and I created these beautiful babies.
I take my daughter's little hand in mine and kiss it.
”Hi there, beautiful. Look at you being all pretty huh?“
Valerie keeps sniffing.
”A new member in your Ohana.“
I nod and keep rocking the baby and when she opens her eyes she looks at me and stops crying.
”It’s your awesome dad. So cool right? Look at your mom. Super strong and going at it.“
I’d love to see what you are working on if you’d like to share (no pressure):
And anyone else is welcome to join and share 🩷🩷🩷🩷
@inlocusmads @jerzwriter @the-pale-goddess @trappedinfanfiction @storyofmychoices @noesapphic @cariantha @cadybear420 @rosepetals1 @lilyoffandoms @aria-ashryver @zealouscanonindeer @kristinamae093 @amortentiaopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @surrrenderronniebabe1 @a-cloud-for-dreams
12 notes
·
View notes
World Building Checklist
Have you ever started writing a story and realized your world has a bunch of unexplained shit and you have to fill in the gaps as you go? Me too, buddy. Me too. Here’s a checklist so that you can fully flesh out your world to the max. (I’m dying)
How does Time work? (Minutes, hours, days, the daylight cycle, years, ect.)
Species (if Fantasy. Will probably make another post on this.)
Countries, Nations, Tribes, ect. (nationalities/ races. Will probably make another post on this.)
The geography of the world (draw a map. Doesnt have to be good. Just for a general idea.)
Rivalries between races (includes prejudice, racism, ect.)
Religions
Technology
The Magic system. (Will probably make a whole other post on this.)
animals, plants, ect.
The sky: Sun, Moon(s), Stars, Constellation, Are there rings? (If the planet has rings)
Educations system
Government system
Politics
Methods of transport (Vehicles)
Medicine
Can’t really think of anything else. If you have more to add then reblog and add to the list! :) bye bee
2K notes
·
View notes
What to give a fuck about,while writing your first draft!
I`ve posted a list about things you don´t need to give a fuck about while writing your first draft. Here are things you NEED TO CARE about! (in my opinion)
Your Authentic Voice: Don't let the fear of judgment or comparison stifle your unique voice. I know it´s hard,but try to write from your heart, and don't worry about perfection in the first draft. Let your authenticity shine through your words.
Your Story, Your Way: It's your narrative, your world, and your characters. Don't let external expectations or trends dictate how your story should unfold. Write the story you want to tell.
Progress Over Perfection: Your first draft is not the final product; it's the raw material for your masterpiece. Give a fuck about making progress, not achieving perfection. Embrace imperfections and understand that editing comes later.
Consistency and Routine: Discipline matters. Make a commitment to your writing routine and stick to it.
Feedback and Growth: While it's essential to protect your creative space during the first draft, be open to constructive feedback later on. Giving a f*ck about growth means you're willing to learn from others and improve your work.
Self-Compassion: Mistakes, writer's block, and self-doubt are all part of the process. Give a f*ck about being kind to yourself. Don't beat yourself up if the words don't flow perfectly every time. Keep pushing forward and remember that writing is a journey.
Remember, the first draft is your canvas, your playground. Don't bog yourself down with unnecessary worries.
4K notes
·
View notes
Story Prompt 74
Each person had their own level to navigate, their own demons to face. Yet, amidst the chaos, they all shared one truth: they were in this together.
On the corner of 8th and Elm, a worn-out diner stood, its neon sign flickering like a heartbeat. Inside, the aroma of coffee mingled with the scent of desperation. A waitress with tired eyes poured refills for the regulars, their stories etched in the lines of their faces.
At a booth in the corner, two strangers found themselves drawn together by the invisible thread of shared struggle. One, a weary artist with paint-stained hands, sought solace in his sketches. The other, a young woman with dreams as fragile as glass, juggled bills like promises she couldn't keep.
"You ever feel like you're just spinning your wheels?" the artist mused, swirling his coffee.
The woman nodded, her gaze fixed on the rain-streaked window. "Every damn day. Like no matter how hard I try, I can't catch a break."
Their words hung in the air, a symphony of echoes bouncing off the linoleum floor. In that moment, they weren't just strangers – they were kindred spirits, bound by the shared burden of existence.
3 notes
·
View notes