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September Writing Prompts 2023
September is here! It's hard to believe the year is mostly over. As we head back towards autumn, enjoy these last few weeks of summer. And As always--
Disclaimer: I never close old writing prompts from previous months. People can and should be encouraged to post on old month's prompts and I highly encourage players to track these posts to catch stragglers or new people writing on old prompts.
Now. With that out of the way, onto this month's prompts.
1. Time to slow down.
2. "I didn't know you could do that!"
3. Going back and finding it all different.
4. "Hmm... difficult to say."
5. Having something to prove.
Bonus image prompt:
4. "Hmm... difficult to say."
“Moshi moshi!” his mother answered on the other line. She didn’t sound half asleep, and in the background, Minoru was pretty sure he could hear dishes clattering. So it was a pretty safe bet he didn’t wake her up this time.
“Hey, Mama. Got a minute? I’ve got a weird question.”
“I do.” She smiled. “Is this about your house-hunting?”
“No, no…” Minoru shook his head. Truth be told, he hadn’t really gotten all that far with house-hunting. Every time he tried to talk to Isamu about it, he got the strangest cold shoulder, and he couldn’t figure out why. “No, I was talking with Fredrik the other day, about kissing and I was trying to explain how gross it feels. And how gross a lot of other stuff feels. And, well… was I always like that?”
“Were you always disgusted by how certain things… felt?” She repeated thoughtfully.
“Yeah.”
“Hmmm… difficult to say. All babies are fussy, and toddlers can be quite picky about a lot of things simply because they’re toddlers.” She considered his question carefully. “Though, after a while, your father and I both started to see your individual likes and dislikes start to shine through.”
“Like, how?”
“Well, speaking of kisses, you were squirming out of those about the same time you were squirming your way out of diapers.” She thought back to when her children were young. “It wasn’t just kisses, though. Bath time was quite an ordeal when you were little. You weren’t a big fan of getting wet. Isamu absolutely loved to splash around like a little duck. And If I bathed the two of you together, neither of you were very happy.”
Minoru laughed at Isamu as a duck, but honestly had to admit, “I don’t remember that…”
Of course, there were plenty of similar memories of when they got a little bit older, and Isamu got his hands on a super soaker…
“No, you were probably too young to remember that. But I do.” Chichi chuckled a little in return. “Washing your hair when you were little was its own adventure. You’d be upset, I’d be drenched. Teaching you to do those things for yourself… that actually calmed you down a lot. It took a little longer, since you’d only use a tiny bit of soap or shampoo at a time. But it gave you more control over how it felt, and I think that made a lot of difference.”
“Huh.” Minoru scratched his head. Of course, he didn’t really give showers a second thought nowadays. Though, he also wasn’t above hinting to Ziggy that a package of Anthean soap just might be the best Christmas present ever. That stuff was amazing.
“It worked with a lot of the things you found unpleasant at first. Like putting on sunscreen. Or finger-painting. Or trying certain foods. Though if I remember correctly, when it came time for you boys to learn to shave, it was a little harder on your father.” She chuckled again. “He hated the feeling of a razor over dry skin. But he wanted to encourage you specifically by example.”
While his hair might have always been unruly, Minoru kept a clean shave and rarely cut himself in the process. Itaru did a good job with that one. Of course, there were other textures that Minoru learned to detest during his adolescence. There was absolutely nothing pleasant about, as his father eventually described it, the body cleaning its own pipes during the night. Fortunately it didn’t really happen all that often. But, ug, when it did…
“So, yes, I suppose in a way, you were always like that.” Chichi concluded, pulling Minoru’s thoughts out of a rather disgusting gutter. “You’ve always been bothered by certain textures, but you learned to adjust. Just as you have with everything else. Just as we all do. …Did that answer your question?”
“Yeah.” Minoru nodded. “Yeah, it did. Thanks!”
“Any time, dear.”
Minoru hung up the PINpoint, and hopped back in the window. If he was lucky, he’d have a chance to catch Isamu before he left for IRIS and ask about those new townhome brochures.
Going Back and Finding it All Different
As I projected my image beyond the veil, to a place the inhabitants called the Nexus, a blind prophet asked me, “If you did not believe the mythos of this Blackbird what then would be the path of your life?”
If I were to go back, and everything were different…
Had I not put on the Armor of the Spectres that day, the path of my life would have been cut very short. The Ministry would have slaughtered us all. I would not have been spared that fate. It was by the will of the Blackbird that any of us survived.
Had Kuro not found me in the desert as a child, the path of my life would have been cut even shorter. I don’t remember it clearly. I had been alone in the wilds and very sick. The Hawk and the Hare, I’ve been told, were arguing over whether it would be a mercy killing. But the fact that, with his medicine and the will of the Blackbird, I even lived through the night is what earned the Mystic his name.
Had my family not been in the southern outpost during the outbreak, though? Had we not left before the Divine used her magic to cure disease in the well? That change would have made all the difference to the path my life would take.
I would be healthy, hearty, still singing and dancing in the various outpost taverns along with my family. By this point, I may even have had children of my own, probably too young to play but old enough to clap their hands or clack wooden spoons, as I remember doing for my mother and father. I don’t know if I would have mastered any of the traditional instruments, though. My voice, even when I was seven, could earn quite its fair share in silver. I remember my mother often saying I had a gift that could rival a siren. She wasn’t wrong.
But the path my life took cannot be changed. And where that path ultimately ends - regardless of what the blind prophet says - will remain the will of the Blackbird. There is no going back, and I have accepted that. If it’s the end, then I am not afraid to die.
no subject
5 - Having Something to Prove (Ziggyverse AU)
"That might just have been the best night yet." Jay whispered. The crowd was still cheering.
"...Better than Ohio?" He laughed.
The release party of their first single would go down in history, certainly. But Jay was adamant. "Ohio was missing one very important thing."
"Oh really? What's that?"
The answer to Dee's question was waiting for them backstage.
"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!!" Ansgar, Rex and Johan burst into song while Mikkel held up a platter of cupcakes topped with sprinkles and candied music notes.
"You remembered!" Dee exclaimed as Jay carefully put him down. His legs were shaking after being up on them during the encore, but he made it to the nearby couch with little trouble.
"Of course we did." Rex grinned, and the others nodded.
"Jay said this was a really special one." Johan added. "Cause you're turning 25 and all."
Mikkel leaned in, holding the cupcake platter closer to the singer so he could blow out the candles.
"Go on." Ansgar encouraged.
Dee drew a deep breath. His arms and legs might not have much strength behind them, but his lungs definitely still did. The candles dropped like the stage lights, and the band cheered just like the audience had.
"Happy birthday, my Little Blackbird." Jay leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. "You did it."
"I did..." his breath hitched. He'd been so caught up in the show, the tour, their album, everything, that the significance of the day only now caught up to him. "I really... I really did..."
His body trembled. His eyes started to water, tears tracing thin lines through his warpaint. Jay reached out for his hand and squeezed it gently.
"I'm... I'm not dead." he smiled. "...or bedridden."
"Far from it." Jay beamed. The others quickly joined in, voicing their encouragement. .
"Tom even said we sold out tonight." Mikkel added
"Did we really?" Ansgar grinned.
They continued on like that for a few minutes, but Dee missed everything they said. His mind was back in an awkward sixteen year old's body, sitting at a doctor's office while the world crashed down around him. Unless they took aggressive measures, he would be bedridden by the time he was 25, if not dead.
Ever since that day, and especially since he left for LA, 25 had always been the final curtain call. It was the reason he pushed himself so hard and so fast. But it was also the ticking time bomb, the hangman's noose dangling above his head.
But not anymore.
25 had come, and it was a reprieve, not a death sentence. The bomb had been defused, the rope cut. And behind that curtain was every birthday wish he'd ever made in his life. To the world, he'd become The Prophet. He was singing in the band of his dreams, touring with Ziggy Stardust. He was on the verge of releasing a debut album. He was engaged to the love of his life and couldn't be happier about the number of years he still had ahead of him.
"Dee... Earth to Dee."
"Huh?" He finally snapped back to the present.
"Do you want a cupcake?" Ansgar repeated. Everyone was holding one, save for Mikkel, who was still holding the tray in front of him expectantly.
Dee smiled up at all of them.
"Yes. Yes, I do."