Lissie's Writers' Iron Chef

a collection of all of the iron chef writing prompts, and completed challenges 🥰 prompt masterlist how it all works the tagging system

[writersironchef]

Please be aware that if your blog only has a mobile view, or your theme does not have a reblog button built in it's really difficult for me to reblog your posts! Neither are compatible with the desktop view right now (which is all I have for this blog), because it's broken :|

If I've missed your post and you want it added on, please send me the reblog link!

[writersironchef]

this may be a stupid question, but can we write any fandom for these prompts/challenges?

of course you can! they're not suppose to be limited to any fandom/pairing etc, use them however you want. you could even use them for OC's/warm ups for your own creative writing 🥰

plus, what you write doesn't have to be shared if you don't want to, but reblogging the challenge on would be appreciated 💕

[writersironchef]

Writers’ Iron Chef #22

[PROMPT] "[They] was unconscious when I found [them]."

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, and link back to this post. Tag me if you want your post reblogged to this page. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 22” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[writersironchef]

Writers' Iron Chef #21

[PROMPT] "Perhaps you'll take me out one day. Or do I have to make an appointment?"

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, and link back to this post. Tag me if you want your post reblogged to this page. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 21” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[prolix-yuy]

Writers' Iron Chef #9: My Everything and Beyond

[PROMPT] Song lyrics from Leon Bridges’ “Beyond” “Do you think I’m being foolish if I don’t rush in?

I’m scared to death that she might be it That the love is real That the shoe might fit She might just be my everything and beyond”

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: T, some angsty Marcus, overthinking galore, lotsa sweetness. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ so MINORS DNI.

Summary: He's never named the feeling in his chest, but it's as much a part of him as he wants you to be,

Notes: Written for Writers’ Iron Chef Prompt 9.

To ease myself back into writing after the holidays, here's a little fun with Marcus. I am a classically trained overthinker, so I thought it would be fun to see Marcus trying his darnedest to not keep making the same mistakes. I love these prompts as little writing warmups, and while this one got a little belabored in the metaphor it definitely got my wheels turning! Thanks to @writersironchef for always giving the best prompts!

He was wrong before, and that’s what scares him now. This twisting, aching, anxious feeling scrambling in his chest is so close to what he felt for Teresa, but with sharper teeth. Claws that scrape and dig between his ribs. And words that drift up and past his ears like steam from an unattended teapot ready to burst into song.

You love her.

You love her.

You love her.

But Marcus doesn’t know when to trust that voice anymore. Every time it’s hissed softly into his hopeful ear his heart took the damage. College girlfriend who balked at his promise ring. A wife gained, a wife lost. Another proposal dashed to bits on the cold concrete. This feeling is a liar, a trickster that beats against its confines no matter how hard Marcus tries to ignore it. 

When you looked at him for the first time, more than the passing glance he waited for every morning, it tapped tentatively against his sternum.

When your morning greetings grew from “Hello Marcus!” to “I wish you never told me about The Subject was Roses, I cried for an hour after. You better have lunch free to talk about it!” it skated up his spine like ascending notes on a xylophone. 

And finally, after six dinners at the same terrible Chinese place between your apartment when he admitted he wished all of them had been dates, it dug its claws into his chest and held still for a breath.

But when you smiled over the lip of your beer, and said “Haven’t they been?” it roared.

Falling in love was Marcus’ true profession, but was he ever lousy at staying employed. Not for lack of trying, and after Teresa he realized maybe for an abundance of trying. So with you he wrestles the tremors of excitement back. He’s going to play it cool, play it slow. Dampen the voice that begs him to kiss you, hold you, tell you every little thing he wants and desires and what he’ll do to give you the world.

He’s going to do it right this time.

But every time he tries not to linger on your touch, he finds his hands ghosting over your skin. Your teases set his face ablaze, needing to take several laps around the office to regain his composure. And the last few times he’d watched you mount your steps, saying goodnight with a beat longer than necessary before heading inside, he wanted to follow. 

He knows he’s getting close to trouble now. The worst part is how much you’re stoking this feeling, and how hard it's becoming to resist. All he wants to do is quell the ache ponging around his stomach, but your last moments each night are spent obsessing over whether now is the time to kiss you. And if it is, can he stop once he’s started?

You’re starting to notice, and it’s only making it worse. The pendulum has swung too far in the other direction, and now Marcus is positively glacial in his courtship. Thinking about it makes his jaw ache, the twin desires of tell her everything and don’t scare her off become a torturous purgatory of his own devising.

Tonight the air is crisp, and you’re walking closer than usual. He took you to a cozy Mediterranean place this time, the vegetal spice of oregano and grape leaves still dancing on his tongue. You’d slipped your hand into his, tucking both into his overcoat pocket and the closeness makes the feeling rabid.

You love her.

I like her. A lot. 

Tell her you love her.

I’ll scare her away.

Tell her you need her.

Stop it.

Kiss her kiss her taste her take her.

Marcus barely realizes he’s climbed the steps with you before he’s there, your hand still in his and your smile soft on your lips. He’s at a loss, all the words he’s warring with trapped in his throat. 

“I…” he manages to croak out.

“Marcus,” you interrupt, opening your front door. If he could just focus for a moment, concentrate on the perfect arrangement of words to let you know how he feels without being too much, too fast, too soon.

“What are you waiting for?”

Your question quells the feeling for the first time in…Marcus isn’t sure how long. But it finally settles, like a feral cat come to love its home. And Marcus finally breathes.

“For you,” he says, chasing your smile as long as you’ll let him.

END

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[artemiseamoon]

A little domesticity (week 17)

Santi x black f reader

Words: 727

Warnings: none

Week #17 @writersironchef @littleferal

[PROMPT] “I miss moments like this more than anything.

Below is a preview - read on A03

The handsome man next to you is many things; strong, brave, funny, at times very stubborn. He’s also loyal, deeply so, dedicated and one of the most charming men you’ve ever met.

When you and Santi crossed paths a few years back, you were drawn to each other like magnets. He was at the other end of the bar laughing with a friend of his, you later learned that it was Frankie, who’s like a brother to him.

Keep reading

[writersironchef]

Writers’ Iron Chef #20

[PROMPT] Song lyrics from Patrick Droney's Ruined "I could pretend it's not hard to stand But oh how my knees wanna bend And baby, the truth is That I'm truly ruined"

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, and link back to this post. Tag me if you want your post reblogged to this page. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 20” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[artemiseamoon]

Under the Stars

(writers iron chef 18)

Pairing: Benny x Noemi (ofc) | past Noemi (ofc) x Will | ft. Will and Noemi’s dog Marley (a golden retriever)

@writersironchef week #18 @littleferal | my writers iron chef masterlist

Words: 1583

Warnings: not many, mention of drug money, t*ms death

There wasn’t much time to reflect on things, not when you’re trying to survive and get the fuck out of jungle and the mountains.

Not when you’ve run out of water and food and every muscle in your body aches, calling for rest and a hot bath. Not when you’re carrying your dead commander and dragging duffle bags of drug money around.

It wasn’t until that night at the mountain tops, hours after he burned that first bill, that Benny really let himself think of her. Half the group was already asleep, Benny stared up at the sky and watched the stars. He imagined her beside him and recalled that time she pointed out constellations to him and Will for the first time.

Flashback

“That right there, that’s Orion,” Noemi traced the pattern with her finger, “named after a hunter in Greek Mythology.”

Benny gazed at her, unable to stop himself. Falling for his brother's girl isn’t something Benny wanted to do; but it happened. Ever since, he’s kept his feelings inside and admired her from afar, which wasn’t easy to do once her and Will went from friends, to a couple. Now she was always around and his feelings continued to grow.

Continue on A03

More Garrett

[writersironchef]

Writers' Iron Chef #19

[PROMPT] Song lyrics from Patrick Droney's Chasing You "I keep running in and out of love I keep running right back into us 'Cause the story's never done If you leave without the one you came with"

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, and link back to this post. Tag me if you want your post reblogged to this page. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 19” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[writersironchef]

Writers' Iron Chef #18

[PROMPT] "H-how long have you been standing there?"

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, and link back to this post. Tag me if you want your post reblogged to this page. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 18” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[prolix-yuy]

Writers’ Iron Chef #10: The List

[PROMPT] Half the names on the list have already been crossed off.

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: T, flirtingggg, Marcus being way too sweet and way too smooth.

Summary: Did he really just say that?

Notes: Written for Writers’ Iron Chef Prompt 10.

This little scene (with some creative liberties taken) actually happened to me a few weeks ago, and what better Pedro boy to stand in for the rando I met than Marcus Pike. Technically there's no gendered language in here, but I wrote it with a F!Reader in mind. Enjoy a little meet cute fun!

“So your friends are the kind that are always late too?”

The question catches you off guard, head turning at the unfamiliar voice. It’s Friday night, a birthday dinner with friends, and you’re indeed waiting. You’d already gone up to the hostess stand, scanning her reservation list when she didn’t find your name immediately. Half the names on the list had already been crossed off, but yours was close to the bottom.

Your phone lights up. Only ten minutes late. You’d waited longer.

“Yeah...” you say back to the man sitting on the other end of the bench. He’s sporting some nicely fitted jeans, a gray t-shirt and leather jacket, which clash sweetly against his soft expression. Clean-shaven with short brown hair framing sparkling brown eyes, his features are eye-catching, a square jaw and curved nose over ridiculously full lips. Any clever retort you had fades to nothing in his knowing gaze.

“Mine too, I should really tell them to be here fifteen minutes early so they’ll be on time for once,” he jokes with a boyish smile. Returning the smile, you turn your phone’s screen over and tilt your head at him. 

“That’s a great idea, I’ll have to borrow it for next time,” you muse, and his eyes crinkle up when he smiles just a little bit bigger. It makes your pulse flutter, which you ignore. Just pleasant conversation.

He gives you his name - Marcus - and you offer yours, enjoying the way he rolls it off his tongue.

“Have you been here before?” he asks, hands folded in his lap and ankle resting on his knee. The undivided attention makes you a little giddy, easing quickly from surprise to comraderie.

“Before it went under new management. I like what they’ve done with the place,” you reply, eyes passing over the updated decor. “You?”

“First time, my friends love it,” he says, looking at his own phone with a shake of his head. “Anything fun planned?” 

“My friend’s birthday, we’re making a night of it.” You normally wouldn't divulge, but this stranger has settled comfort in your chest. “Dinner, then salsa dancing after.” 

Marcus' eyebrows raise, smile mischievous. “You salsa dance?” he asks, and you halfheartedly realize how long it's been since a man has given you such rapt attention.

“Yeah, I know a few moves,” you say, and his impressed nod warms you.

“Well, it sounds like a lovely night,” he hums, twiddling his thumbs together as he looks over at you a little more coyly. “Though if it wasn’t your friend’s birthday, I’d suggest we ditch them all and go get something to eat ourselves.”

Your heartbeat hammers into high speed, heat rising up your neck. Stealing a glance back, you gauge his expression. He’s teasing on the surface, but underneath you can sense the ripple of truth in his suggestion. There’s nothing pushy about it. He’s already leaning back, making himself smaller, and you can tell he wouldn’t push if you scoffed at the suggestion. 

Eyes drawn to his hands, you admire the width of his palms, the artistic fold of his fingers together, how his thumb worries at the skin of his index. 

You open your mouth to speak and…

A rapid knock on the window turns your attention outside to your friends, waving through the glass. In the moment you have before they come through the door, you catch Marcus' eye. His expression is cool, resigned, pleasant. It makes you want to throw caution to the wind.

“Maybe next time?” you toss back before standing to hug the birthday girl. You miss his reaction, but you hope it’s pleased.

The dinner is excellent, filled with jokes and banter. After you were seated Marcus walked past and wished your friend a happy birthday, making you fumble with an explanation as the hostess seated him a couple tables away. As engaging as the company is, your eyes keep slipping over to him. His seat faces yours, and on more than one occasion you catch each other's eyes, exchanging exaggerated expressions or warm smiles.

It’s exciting, but you can't get ahead of yourself. No way he’s actually single, or actually thinks you're cute enough to pick up in a restaurant, or actually wants to talk to you again after that brief conversation. It's just harmless fun, and when the bill comes he’ll leave without a fuss.

The evening wraps up, most of the table leaving together for a bathroom break. You hold back, waiting for the bill to return with the wad of credit cards you apologetically foisted onto the waitress. After they’ve rounded the corner out of sight you search for Marcus' smile once more.

His table is empty.

Even with the preparation, it still twists your stomach just a little knowing the fun is done. A titillating moment, fleeting and fast. At least it will make you smile for a few days.

A person comes to your shoulder, and presuming it’s the waiter you turn to face them.

It’s Marcus, slipping a piece of folded-up receipt paper onto the table in front of you.

“For next time,” he says, a lopsided smile resplendent with dimples shining down on your dazed face. His hand brushes against the back of yours before he jaunts out to meet his friends, tossing a wink behind his back.

On the paper is his phone number, and a message:

I promise I'll be on time.

END

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[artemiseamoon]

I took a chance

Writers iron chef #13

Mark Paddo x Cleopatra Hart ofc (Mc au) ft ofcs brother ‘Mack’ (Maxwell Hart) | oneshot for now, leaving open for future expansion

Prompt: Patching up a wound + “Why would you put yourself through something like that?”

@writersironchef week # 13 (my fav challenge right now, created and hosted by @littleferal)

Words: 648

Warnings: mentions of a fight, wounds, killing in self defense /retaliation

An: I love this do much. It’s on the “to be expanded” list

Credit to GIF owner

Below is a preview * read in full on A03

Paddo’s expression is serious as he works, those little lines between his brows are tense. He lifts her arm and carefully wraps a bandage around it. Paddos eyes jump to the door, then back to her arm, the entire time he continues to firmly close up the bandage.

Letting her arm go, he sighs, then runs his right hand through his hair.

“Why would you put yourself through something like that?” His green eyes finally meet hers, she’s already watching him.

“When those assholes hit the warehouse, I was in there, remember? So was my brother.”

“And I am glad you are okay,” he cups the sides of her face with his hands, “Mack too. But it’s club business, Cleo. We handle it. Not you.”

“Ah okay, so I can occasionally sling drinks and make sure your damn books are in order, but if I see someone who's attacked us, just hang back? Let the boys handle it?” She doesn’t mean for her tone to be so harsh, but her heart is still in her throat and adrenaline is still pumping hard and fast through her body.

Paddo looks deep into her eyes, then says, “you could have been killed, Cleo.”

This is a preview * read in full on A03

More writers iron chef

Masterlist

More Ryan Corr

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[something-tofightfor]

Busboys and Poets - Writer’s Iron Chef #12

Pairing: Marcus Pike x female reader 

Word Count: 2,321

Rating: T. This is all fluff with a little introspection and a couple mentions of Teresa.

Summary: A failed date leads to a chance encounter.

Prompt:  “You don’t mean that” and “This was a mistake.”

Author’s notes:

This is based on this prompt from the weekly @writersironchef​ event that @littleferal​​ created and runs!

This is just a short little Marcus piece that is completely unrelated to anything I’ve written before. Enjoy! 

“This was a mistake.” There was no hesitation when he spoke, and even at the widening of her eyes, Marcus didn’t flinch. “I’m not … I thought this was a good idea, but it wasn’t.” The disappointment he understood, and he felt bad about it, but even that didn’t change his mind.

Keep reading

[writersironchef]

despite scheduling posts to come out at 9am, tumblr keeps posting them at odd times (last time at 12pm, this time at 2pm). does anyone know why, or have any suggestions?

[writersironchef]

Writers' Iron Chef #17

[PROMPT] "I miss moments like this more than anything."

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

[WHEN COMPLETED] Please create your own post, and link back to this post. Tag me if you want your post reblogged to this page. Please use the tags “lissie’s writers’ iron chef” and “writers’ iron chef 17” so we can all find each other’s works :)

[artemiseamoon]

Anywhere but here

Dave York x ofc

Will eventually be part of a multi chapter work called After All These Years

Words: 982 | Theme: angst / comfort

Warnings: guns, blood, mentions of a shootout, wounds and bruises, a kidnapping, deaths, and a rescue, mention of drinking

An: I was so torn who to pick for this, but I haven’t written Dave in forever. So I chose him.

This is a preview ~ read in full on A03

Submission for @littleferal writer’s iron chef | week #16 @writersironchef (thank you so much for creating and hosting this challenge) I needed every minute for this one, and ran out of time to edit. 💕

[PROMPT] “Just take my hand and close your eyes. Pretend we’re anywhere else but here."

The masked man groaned and tried to get up. Dave forced him back against the ground with his booted foot. Dave presses his body weight into the man's chest, then shoots him in the face.

Blood starters and Dave uses the back of his free hand, and wipes his visor with the glove.

Leaving him there, he can hear commotion inside of the decaying house. It was in the middle of nowhere, and a nightmare to find. But he found it. And now, he’s going to get them out alive.

He’s already killed 8 men before reaching the house. At first, the silencer bought him time, but now, they know he’s here.

Two men attempt to ambush him, bullets fly and after a brief struggle, he kills them both. As he walked down the long hallway, he counters another man. The fight and he disarms him.

Shoving him against a wall, he chokes him with one hand and shoots him in the kneecap with the other.

“Where are they!?”

Read more on A03

More Pedro

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[flightlessangelwings]

Survive Now, Then Flirt

Poe Dameron x gn! reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mild violence, mention of dead bodies, explosive meet cute, protective Poe, fluff, flirting, needing a kiss to hide from enemies, slight angst with fluffy ending

Prompt: “Just take my hand and close your eyes. Pretend we’re anywhere else but here.”

Notes: General reminder that my blog is 18+ only even if this particular fic doesn’t have smut! I finally had time to write for a @writersironchef​ and I’m so happy with how this turned out even if it’s a little late posting! The prompt was so good too! Thank you @littleferal​ for organizing this!

To stay up to date on when I post new fics, also follow my update blog and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates​. Reblogs highly appreciated!

~

Blaster fire echoed everywhere you turned. Tears formed in your eyes as you took shallow breaths and ran to wherever your legs would take you. Although you despised the First Order, you thankfully never had to deal with them too much… until today.

They came out of nowhere, blasters already aimed at whoever they could fire at and they shot without mercy or a care as to who they hit. Your little town helped the rebellion any way they could, but you all managed to stay off the radar until someone leaked information to the First Order and they swiftly dealt their retribution.

Keep reading