Prompt Call: Dessert


Prompt call time! Give me your prompts, and I’ll take every last one and work it into a short story. This time, the theme is DESSERT! (I kept typoing it instead of desert last time, so I was inspired.) Anything goes: ideas, words, pictures, poetry, music, whatever you can throw at me. You don’t have to follow the theme, it’s just a nudge to get your brain juices flowing. Otherwise, the general rules apply:

  • You can prompt at any point in time, on any social media where I lurk (like on these posts on Insta, Twitter, and Tumblr), but if it might get worked into the next story if it’s later.
  • You can give me as many prompts as you like—just pretty please keep it within reason.
  • Keep prompts PG-13, and nothing offensive.
  • By giving me prompts, you’re giving me the honor to do whatever I’d like with them in/with my stories as my content. Prompts themselves remains to whoever owns them.

For more info, stories, and custom stories, check out the project page. And if you want to support this project, consider giving me a coffee on Ko-Fi?

Now, hit me with those prompts! And look forward to the story written with last theme’s prompts going live tomorrow!!!

Bacon, out.


Two Kinds of Butter

So a few days ago, I made a Butterball turkey for dinner.


It was basted in butter, grapefruit juice (and rinds), balsamic vinegar, black peppercorns, basil, paprika and sage.

Jealous, huh, huh?

Well, it was kinda a packed day for me. I was trying to finish a book because another book I was reeaaaally looking forward to was coming out the next day, and then all my friends wanted to talk RIGHT THEN (which, I love all of them, but all at once?) while basting my lovely turkey.

But there’s always something to lighten the mood at my house.

I was viciously typing away at something or other when my mom asked me if I would like her to grab some chocolate for me while she was out.

Um, yes?

So she asks me what kind followed by, “You know, some studies say that milk chocolate has the same benefits as dark chocolate.”

To which I say, “Yeah, but milk has more sugar and cocoa butter.”

So she slaps her butt. “I love my cocoa butter.”

“Yes, you have nice cocoa butter.”

Then back to turkey basting.


So, my dad (who works the graveyard shift) gets up and glancing up from my book I see he has a big ol’ shiner (aka a black eye).

Feeling smart, I asked, “Who’d you get into a bar fight with?”

“A jar of pickles.”

A jay of pickles. How do you even. Nope. Still don’t know.

Anyhow, by that point, I’d made it through the day, and I had my lovely turkey.


How about you? Have any weird family stories that get you through the day?

Bacon, out.