Hey guys.
My friend and I started this table of100 prompts that were doing for fun (yes we are dorks but we already know that! ;-) So mostly this (at the end) will be 100 RENT based short stories. The rating on all of these will never exceed a K+ rating.I hope you guys will enjoy them! I'm a fluffy kinda gal so be ready for that! Eventually all the characters will be used once but more then likely will be used quite often (more then once). And I will try to always have what the newest (last updated) prompt isin the description so if it doesn't intrest you, you won't waste your time. Here are the 1st two. Enjoy!
Dru
100 ways
Prompt 45. Moon
"It's so pretty," Mimi leaned up against the bar of the balcony, staring dreamily at the moon. It held so much promise. So much hope. Just sitting up there in the sky so bright, so big.
"What are you doing Mimi?" Mark called to her from inside. He was tidying up around the living room. Collins had fallen asleep on the couch, his feet still propped up on the coffee table.
"Just looking at the moon," she answered softly, her breath coming out in small puffs of visible clouds into the cold air. Her nose was pink and her cheeks were cold. But she couldn't be happier. The glow of the moon lit up the quiet alley below. Mimi was so caught up in the moment that when a pair of arms slinked around her waist and she was gently pressed up against something she let out a squeak of surprise.
"Just me," Roger whispered near her ear. She shivered slightly, tightening her grip on the sweatshirt she was wearing.
"You scared me," she pouted, playfully smacking him as she relaxed against his chest.
"I sorry," he cooed softly.
"It's so…pretty," Mimi repeated taking a gentle grip on Roger's wrists.
"What? You or the moon," Roger laid a kiss behind her ear. She giggled and leaned up to capture his lips in a soft kiss before replying gently.
"The moon."
Prompt 36. Smell
"Dude what's that smell?" Mark asked standing perfectly still in the middle of the living room.
"What smell? It's probably you," Roger mumbled flipping through a magazine from a month or so ago.
"Nice smartass. For real. What's that smell?" Mark went over to the couch and started to lift up the cushions, tossing them in disarray on the floor.
"Whoa. Being the neat freak that you are this must really be bothering you," Roger tossed the magazine on to the coffee table and planted his feet on the floor in front of him.
"Will you shut up and help me look for what the hell smells?" Mark shuffled over to the kitchen.
"Uh…how am I supposed to help you when I can't even smell anything Mark?" he asked, deciding to stand up anyway. Mark shot him a look. "Alright let's start with this. Is this smell a good smell or a bad smell?" Mark thought for a second.
"It depends."
"On?"
"I dunno. If you're in the mood for Maureen I guess."
"Maureen?" Roger asked raising his eyebrows slightly. "What's she got to do with this?"
"It smells…like Maureen," Mark said, all of a sudden feeling ridiculously silly. All Roger could do was sit back down on the couch and laugh hysterically. Mark grumbled softly.
"I'm going to go lie down."