anonymitywriterprescott

[anonymitywriterprescott]

“you’re a writer, right?”

me, staring at the one sentence i’ve managed to add in the last hour and the 12 open tabs on the specifics of shoes in 1845 Ireland: In theory.

[anonymitywriterprescott]

writes out 6 concepts, finishes none

"God i'm really putting off this chapter, but its fine i've been busy time to enjoy Tumblr"!

"Haha okay little call out, but still- nothing to feel guilt about- daydreaming is half the process"!

"Okay jesus calling my ass out- but like I said, busy week- and besides its not THAT long anyways, just now over 20 days"

...

*opens doc*

Screenshot Tag credit- @glassfrogforest @numbr2-pencil @kookntae4ever

[anonymitywriterprescott]

A time traveler and an immortal, and they are a couple... does this mean anything to you..?

[anonymitywriterprescott]

Writing Prompt #2856

"You're a myth. You can't be real."

"Who said myths aren't real?"

[anonymitywriterprescott]

[anonymitywriterprescott]

Writing Prompt #2857

"I did this for you."

The woman could only stare in horror at the person she had once loved. "What the hell made you think I'd want this?"

[anonymitywriterprescott]

The ding of the door opening gets my attention, so I walk, minding the gap, onto the train. Looking around for a seat, I notice the empty train car and choose to sit close to the door.

I scroll on my phone as the train starts moving again. 6:09 pm. A call notification appears on screen as the ringtone echoes through the car, making it sound bigger and emptier than it is. "Babe <3" is calling. "Hello love, what's up?" "Sooo I may have promised a lovely homemade lasagna but we will probably be having your choice of fast food tonight instead." They say, sounding sorry as ever and a bit annoyed. "Oh noo, What happened? You ok?" "Yeah, no bruises, burns, or blood, but the oven shit the bed again, and I already called the office to see if and when it could get replaced this time instead of just a duct tape fix, but they said it would be at least 3 weeks." "3 fucking weeks? They expect us to not cook for 3 fucking weeks, really?" My voice is barely below yelling. "Hey, it'll be ok; I already texted my mom, I can go over tomorrow and premake some stuff, aaaand she's giving us her microwave because she never uses it, so we can reheat it all." Their voice sounds desperate to calm me, knowing how much I hate that stupid, old-ass, fucking oven. "I guess I'll need to sneak a $50 in her pocket because I doubt she'll let us pay for it." "You would be right. So, do you wanna pick up dinner on your way, or should I order delivery?" "Delivery," I glance at the time on my phone. 6:27 pm. "feels like the train is taking forever, and I don't wanna carry the food up the stairs." "Alright baby, text me what you want, Love you." "Love you, bye." I tap the end call button and go to our texts, filling out where to order from and what I want. The text continuously attempts to send but fails. I have no signal, of course.

The clock reads 6:30 pm. This route is usually like 10 minutes, and we haven't stopped moving, so why is it taking so long? The windows show only darkness and an occasional flash from the tunnel lights. I walk to one of the doors and press the button to open it, but nothing happens. Same with the second door. A bright white light floods the car, but it's gone before my eyes adjust. The text continues failing to send. No signal means I can't call anyone or look up anything about train delays. The clock reads 6:30 pm. Still? I look at the walls to see if there is an emergency or call button or something that says a phone number to call if I get signal. Nothing. The clock reads 6:30 pm. I stare at my phone. 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi… …59 Mississippi, 60 Mississippi. The clock reads 6:30 pm. Maybe I was a bit off on my timing, I tell myself, waiting for the minute to pass. It doesn't. The clock reads 6:30 pm. Finally, soft light seeps through the windows. Outside, a dim forest, trees with twisted limbs, and long-hanging vines whizz by. Every so often, I think I see a creature, but it looks… wrong. One of them was a deer, but the antlers looked like its legs? So time is… frozen, I can't get off the train, I am alone, and I'm seeing things?

"You're not seeing things, darling." A voice comes from the other side of the car. Startled, I quickly turned to see it. A tall, rectangular figure, wearing a red hat whose top scrapes the car's roof, whose brim covers its face, and a matching red suit that looks like it's made of silk. I stare wide-eyed, not knowing what it is or its intentions. Or why it can hear my thoughts. But I keep calm, "What am I seeing then?" "Not the thing you think." It says, speaking "That's upsettingly vague." "It's more literal than you realize." It cocks its head as if it's examining me.

Its face.

It feels like it's… out of focus? No matter how hard I try, I just can't quite… see it? "Don't hurt yourself." It says, looking me up and down. "Look at the wall if it helps." It sounds annoyed at my existence. Like my inability to see its features is an inconvenience of the highest accord. "May I have your name?" It reaches out its hand as if it expects me to give it something. Its hand has long, thin fingers that come to a point, like a pale grey claw, which turns pitch black towards the fingertips. "Only if I can have yours," I reply, using the same reply my mother always gave when people asked for her name. "Not worth the trade… no offense." It sneers at the end. "But your mother taught you well. Did you come here intentionally?" "Well I got on the train intentionally, but where ever we are now was not where I wanted to go." "And where do you wish to go?"

"Home." "Home it is."

My eyes close, and I feel a rush of air circle me. As the air dissipates, my eyes open, and I am in front of my apartment door, plastic white bags containing our dinner at my feet. The door swings open, and I see my partner's face and baggy pajamas. "Hey baby, good timing!" Silence fills the air, I try to speak, but my voice feels stuck in my throat. I can't wrap my head around this. "…baby? You ok?" Their hand strokes my shoulder, a slight touch, yet it feels like it drags my soul back into my body. I gasp, startling my partner. "I… don't know how… I got here…" I stumble out. "Well, you got here, and you seem unharmed. Come inside, love." They guide my arm, pulling me inside. As I walk into the apartment, I look for my phone, finding it in my pocket with a small, folded piece of paper that reads, "Safe travels, darling. Your mother says hello." The clock reads 6:30pm.

[anonymitywriterprescott]

The subway station is closed. The train is rerouting - somewhere you've never seen before, and the map you have is out of date. Great. Now how are you supposed to know when to get off?

[anonymitywriterprescott]

Request with a ship/couple you would like <3

Touch Prompt List

For anyone who needs it I thought i share this prompt list I have saved. I have no idea who made it. This prompt list had 55 different prompts all about touch. You can use this for anything you want. Drawing/writing/anything.

touching foreheads

running fingers through hair

hiding face in neck

caressing the other’s hand

feeling their pulse

patting the other’s head

holding hands

shielding the other one with their body

listening to the other’s heartbeat

spooning at night

laying their hand on the other’s neck

pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

nudging the other one

putting an arm around the other’s waist

hugging each other

massaging them

holding the other’s chin up

squishing the others cheek

high fiving

bandaging/stitching up an injury

kissing the other’s brow

falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

carrying the other one in their arms

whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

stroking the other’s arm soothingly

kissing the top of their head

pulling the other one towards them

feeling for each other in the dark

tickling the other one

grabbing onto their arm

doing a pinky swear

caressing the other’s back

tasting their smile

washing the other’s body

kissing their bruises and scars

lifting the other one up

putting their head on the other’s chest

stroking their leg

leaning into the other’s side

patting them on the back

sitting close and knees touching

braiding the other’s hair

giving them a piggy-back ride

feeling their temperature

caressing the other’s cheek

holding the other’s jaw

touching their elbow to get their attention

dancing with each other

holding onto the other’s shoulders for support

putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

sitting on the other’s lap

gripping thigh

linking arms with each other

touching cheek to cheek

tracing the lines on the other’s hand

[anonymitywriterprescott]

I just cross posted this Ao3 so go give it some love please <3

I wish I was worse

Knock, knock, knock. The door swings open, and his eyes meet mine. “Love, fucking, sucks” You slur, as you lean on the door frame attempting to keep your balance. He hesitated. “You’re drunk” “You’re sober” You huffed.

He pulls you inside, closing the door behind you as you crash onto his couch. “Actually, I’m not” You can hear the pop of a bottle top and the clinking of glasses as he gets them out of the cabinet. Sitting beside you he puts down the glasses, and what you now see is vodka, on the table in front of you. Reaching behind you, he grabs the blanket on the back of the couch. You can smell the vodka on his breath already, mixed with the scent of his clothes, blood, cigarettes and … something burnt? You didn’t wanna know. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders, “It’s freezing out, did you walk here?” “No, I teleported” Sarcasm dripping off your words, you grab the bottle and pour both of you a drink. “Oh haha, funny, how did you get here because you better not have been stupid enough to drive” “I didn’t” He grunts, you can’t tell if he’s happy you didn’t drive or upset you walked in the snow. “So I know why love sucks but why do you think that? Something happen with you and Mr. Unknown?”

You stay silent, downing the vodka as quickly as you can.

The air hangs, he shifts on the couch to turn towards you more.

“You know those 2 guys we saved last night?” Taking the lid off the bottle. “The ones in the coffee shop or the ones in the car on makeout mountain?” “The car” You take a good swig of the vodka, honestly it’s more of a chug but you don’t realize that until you start choking on your burning throat. “Bloody hell, what about them?” “Well, Mr. Unknown was also the blonde one in the car, aka the one riding Mr. 6ft bodybuilder in the front seat” The rasp in your voice is hard to ignore and at this point, you don’t know if it’s the alcohol burn or the tears your holding back. “Oh shit” You hand him the bottle, ditching the the glasses completely, he takes a drink and hisses slightly at the burn.

“Yeah and I couldn’t, fucking, tell anyone, I was surrounded by my friends and I couldn’t tell a fucking soul that I just saw my entire world crashing down because I’m such a fucking good person that I still didn’t want to out him” “Plus ya know, the whole ‘stitching up someones stab wound and making sure she doesn’t die’ thing” “Well yeah that too”

You go to grab the bottle and take another drink, this time the burn feels faint, barely like pins and needles. You swing your legs, laying them over his and lay the blanket over your arms.

“Sometimes I wish I was a worse person” “What, like me?” “I didn’t say that. I can’t tell anyone what happened, I shouldn’t be even telling you, because it doesn’t matter that he broke my heart, I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone and I would be a shitty person if I started telling people because it’s shitty to out him. But now I can’t even tell my best friends, people who have literally saved my life, who my fucking ex-boyfriend is and why we broke up, I’m forced to keep it secret and pretend everything is alright but it’s not and maybe he’s shitty for putting me in this position but…” You lose steam, all of your anger slowly turning to grief.

“It’s not fair” “He’s shitty for doing this to you” “I know”

[anonymitywriterprescott]

Kidnapped Part 1

Working at a secret government operation disguised as a fancy tech means you never know how each day is gonna go.

Most days you simply manage your team, come up with and build new tech.

Some days you just get told to invent whatever you want to see where it goes as long as no one gets hurt and the building stays intact.

Sometimes the day is going as normally as possible, and you're sitting peacefully at your station

Then the red emergency lights flash around you, and the entire building around you shakes violently, the ringing in your ears feels like it's piercing into your brain and as your eyes flutter open you see the destruction surrounding you, everything in the room being tossed everywhere, cabinet doors flung open or off the hinges.

The ringing in your ears dies down as you start to hear screaming on your radio.

---------------------------------------------------- The following is a transcription of the audio recording Nick: DO YOU COPY? I REPEAT DO YOU COPY? [REDACTED]: I COPY SIR, WHAT HAPPENED Nick: BOMB IN THE SECOND FLOOR, WEST WING. WHERE ARE YOU [radio static] [incomprehensible] Nick: DID YOU HEAR ME? OVER [REDACTED]: I HEAR YOU SIR, SORRY SIR, I'M ON THE 8TH FLOOR, WE FELT IT UP HERE TOO. WHERE DO I NEED TO BE Nick: I NEED YOU TO EVACUATE YOUR FLOOR AND MAKE YOUR WAY OUT. WE HAVE POSSIBLE HOSTILES WITH WEAPONS WE BELIEVE THEY ARE TARGETING THE FOURTH FLOOR SO AVOID AT ALL COSTS [REDACTED]: THEY- [static] -NOT FO- [static] -HER- [silence] Nick: YOUR CUTTING OUT, REPEAT [REDACTED]: NOT FOURTH FLOOR, TARGETING 8TH [heavy breathing] BACKUP, I NEED BACKUP Nick: SENDING PEOPLE YOUR WAY, WHAT'S HAPPENING [REDACTED]: [static] [silence] ----------------------------------------------------

You're sitting back against the door, the cold settling into your shoulder contrasting the feeling of warm liquid dripping down your arm and chest.

The radio beeps loudly 3 times before shutting off.

Dead.

Shit.

The only thing you can think of is everybody who is trapped in the building and the fear they are feeling.

The enemy is coming towards you, and you know you'll do anything to make sure they don't take anyone else.

"WEAPONS DOWN, HANDS UP NOW"

You oblige, slowly placing your gun on the ground. As you raise your hands, your right shoulder suddenly stings with sharp pain, you can feel it go from your shoulder through your entire body.

You realize your wound is pretty bad as your head starts to feel light.

"This is as high as I can fellas, the bullet you put in me won't let me go further" Snark drips off your tongue.

What appears to be the boss turns to the others.

"Move them out of the way, then cut the door open."

The door you are leaning on stores the documentation of the things you build every day.

The men start towards you.

"Wait wait wait, if you want information, I know more than anything in that room."

The boss looks at you, analyzing your face. "Yea?"

"What are you after? I can help instead." Did you want to help these people? fuck no. But you need to do something.

"I doubt you're giving it up for free." 

"I'll tell you anything you want as long as you leave here, and don't take or hurt anyone else."

"How fucking noble of you." He shoots a glance at his companions. They grab you by your shoulders and force you up to his eye level. Due to the height difference, this means you feel your feet dangling as they hold you.

He steps towards you. "How about we just take you instead, and we'll get the info out of you one way or another." He motions with his hand and his men start taking you to their transport. You don't even yell, you know it's no use. But it doesn't matter, they're leaving just like you wanted.

You feel a small sting on the side of your neck and everything goes black.

[anonymitywriterprescott]

I honestly kind of like characters who are only fearless because they just don't give a fuck anymore. Like, they've accepted they're going to die and are genuinely surprised they already made this far. So at this point, they're basically just flirting with death and begging their enemies to try their fucking luck, because, they don't really expect to make it out their journey alive, so you better believe if they're going out, they're going down either fighting or all or nothing.

[anonymitywriterprescott]

Just updated, take a look!

I wanna practice writing full stories. I'm gonna work on posting some of them soon but you can also send me recommendations or inspiration.

(grammar and quality are not guaranteed)

What I'm willing to write:

• Fanfics about characters I'm familiar with (I'll edit to add more over time) • Hunger games • Stranger things • Scream Franchise • Buffy the vampire slayer • Doctor who • Supernatural • Marvel • Bones • Harry potter (fuck j.k) • and more, just ask

• About characters above the age of 18 (if any sexual situations is involved)

• Xreaders of any gender

• Headcanons and AUs

• No name characters for the sake of pure story prompt (example: My old story please keep in mind I wrote this 6 years ago and hopefully I've grown since then)

• Oc characters: a bit more difficult so I'd prefer either lots of details in the ask or to dm me so I can ask questions

• Lgbt, Poc, Disabilities, and more, I am lgbt and disabled, but if its about a group I am not apart of I will do the research I can to make sure its accurate, not stereotyping, not offensive, etc

• Non romance based stories

• Kink/kinkish dynamics, yes no smut but that doesn't mean no knives or leashes

• Polyamory

Things I won't write:

• Currently I don't want to write smut, I'm not confident in my ability to write about it so I want to practice writing in general before diving into that

• Gore, I will never write full gore, the sweet spot is between the Saw franchise (which I genuinely cannot watch) and the Scream franchise

• Pregnancy

•Real people, even if they have specified they are comfortable with it, I am not

• Underage characters in inappropriate situations

• Incest

• SA

• Overall anything I consider immoral or I don't feel like I have enough lived experience/knowledge of to write about (just incase I haven't listed it)

Other notes:

• I am up for criticism at this time as long as its in good faith

• I would like to write about characters/concepts that don't get written about often enough or are underrated

• If your ask, prompt or request is vague then I will run with it, if you want to specify in the future I can make a new version of it (I don't mind rewriting things because this is so I can practice writing but also practice posting publicly and accepting public opinion)

• Speaking of posting multiple versions, I am ok with posting multiple endings, multiple of the same concept with just different characters/dynamics and for any stories with you, the reader, as a character, changing the pronouns/descriptions of said reader so that anyone can reader it and connect with it

• If I decide to delete any stories, and if my reason for deletion isn't moral, I will give fair warning and you can message me so I can send it to you privately if you wish

• I will attempt to update any future multi-part series as much as can but I do have job irl and I tend to do projects like this in spurts

• If I'm start being proud of any specific stories I will cross post them, I will have them linked here so no one thinks I'm stealing my own writing, but if they are posted on accounts not linked here then thats not me and please let me know

If I forgot anything I will edit to add, last updated 06/03/2024

[anonymitywriterprescott]

access to me is very limited these days. protecting my peace is my main priority.

[anonymitywriterprescott]

i like to think that after a certain age, not having prosthetics or cybernetics is a status symbol. the poor get cheap insurance-provided prosthetics, the well-off can buy custom-made titanium faux-limbs. but when a member of the ultrawealthy loses an eye or an arm or has their lungs fail, they just pay for the family gene-labs to grow them a replacement in an artificial womb. flash-frozen stem cells thawed and nudged into the shape of a limb or organ to be transplanted as necessary. a ludicrously expensive process, but it lets them preserve the false sense of purity that sets them apart from the working poor. before you notice someone's clothes, their jewelry, you note the absence of a cybernetic leg or any hardware under their skin, and you know you're dealing with someone whose net worth is measured in star systems.

[anonymitywriterprescott]

“Do you think it’s possible that some people are born to give more love than they will ever get back in return?”

— Tyler Knott Gregson

[anonymitywriterprescott]

dumb little stanza that didnt make the cut for the poem im currently writing but i thought you guys might like anyway