Prompts writing skills

[Abinaya]

my ig: @ayasepisode

Let’s write together! This is perfect to practice or try to write in another genre. I made you a prompt and you write a story of how long you like and I’ll add you on the list.

As I mentions before; this concept had a lot of success a few years ago and motivated a lot of people and people motivated each other. Try it!

All the prompts will be collected down below. You can choose which one you like and write your story in a triangle.

Show me your talent. Let the fun begin…

DISCLAIMER:
This is not a competition! Feel free to hype each other up or write more stories hehe. You can choose any you like

Feel free to ask questions or request story prompts!

prompts

2.am
It’s 2 a.m. and you’ve been tossing and turning trying to get some sleep. Finally, you sit up. You know what you need to do.

“Can you see me?”

You go for a walk and accidentally bump into someone. They feel the bump, but the person can’t seem to hear or see you.

confused

Write a story about a character who can’t figure out when they’re dreaming or awake.

100 years

I wish I could skip next week, you think as you get into bed that night. In the morning, you wake up 100 years in the future

that one night

It’s the last summer night with your summer fling. After this one night, you would have to continue your life without them… but it will never be the same

liar

End your story with the sentence ‘Oh, if only. If only I/he/she/they wouldn’t have lied…’

Feel free to change the sentence to your liking!

unclear

You’ve forgotten the last year of your life, and have to retrace your steps to figure out how you got here.

the woods

They told you not to go, but your curiosity is taking over. What is it that I can’t go into the woods?

under the sheets

There’s something underneath my bed — and it’s not a monster…

not-so-normal

You were on your regular morning walk to the coffee shop, when you fall through the sidewalk. But this place looks… unnatural. Even magical.

Questionable

You thought you’d never see this person again, yet here they are… they’re looking quite a bit different.

tension

The verbal fight between you and your husband is getting out of hand. “Start the car. We’re going to a couples’ therapy.”

I do not want to see any other form of violence or someone getting banned. It’s about emotions after all.

the opposite

Long distance relationships are hard. The one is living their best life while the other can’t wait for the next phone call.

wish I could go back

I’ve hurt a lot of people in my life. But if I knew I had to face them and my consequences after my death? I would have stayed alive.

In the dark

When the night falls, you can’t seem to close your eyes. You’re the only one who can see that in the darkness. How can you put an end to it?

Be creative with what the ‘that’ could be!

missed me?

You’ve gone missing, and eventually they stopped searching for you. After 15 years it’s time to make the phone call… “Mom, dad?”

write in the third person perspective! she/he/they

under the moon

A quiet night while dancing under the moon with the one you love. Until you’re rudely interrupted… This is bad news.

Christmas dinner

If there is one thing you hate, it would be Christmas. Even seeing someone looking at you makes you gag. Time to walk down stairs and have a forced-family-Christmas-dinner.

you against everyone

All you want to do is relax and write a little story, but thinking about your story is the last thing you do. Your family wants you to have a steady highly paid job.

End your last sentence with “I would do it all over again” or something like that!

this place

You find yourself dreaming about such a wonderful place. A place you wished to live, to escape to. Can you give up the one thing that is stops you?

one step for mankind

They finds themselves in a tense situation. They’re one of the only survivors of a spaceship crash on an unknown planet.

miserable town

Death is the only thing on your mind in this miserable town. There seems to be someone dying every day or so, and it’s time to find out why. “You’re playing a dangerous game, kid.”

help

You’re involved in a car crash and your soul is roaming around trying to find its way back to your body. What do you encounter on the way back, do you even return?

all alone

Write a story that feels lonely, despite being set in a packed city.

don’t fail me

you’re a character in a book. your writer has just gone into a coma. you must do everything in your power to finish your story before your writer dies.

there is a way

you’re a character in a book, and you’re trapped in a dystopian world that you don’t want to be in. you slowly start to think that the reader could help you escape your writer’s world.

don’t get caught

Your friends are always there for each other. Till one of them did something bad… are you there to help her/him? Or better said, are you ready to break into this high secured building to break the system?

a long flight

On the airport, trying to start your new life. Seems like the person next to you on the plane is trying to do that too.

a robbery

It’s time to rob this shop… with a bad preparation.

sent

With shaking hands moving your fingers above the keyboard. This moment is going to change your life. Sent.

letting you in

A year goes by as you find yourself all alone. Someone who saw your old self keeps trying to talk to you. Many, many times.

knocking

You park the car in his neighborhood. With mascara all over your red cheeks, you walk up to their house. With shaking hands you knock against the wooden door - waiting for the creaking noise to ring in your ears.

written stories

2 am thoughts - @Me_and_Mel
2 am thoughts - @tyratuna
2 am thoughts - @RandomUnicorn
2 am thoughts - @viarose
2 am thoughts - @Hon3y_Be3
2 am thoughts - @Phoenix_11037
2 am thoughts - @Shrinking_Violet
2 am thoughts - @dazzling_ash
2 am thoughts - @hollywood.episode
confusion - @RandomUnicorn
100 years - @Danielle318
confused - @tyratuna
100 years - @writingwithjade
2 am thoughts - @TalesByDallas
2 am thoughts - @geminifatale
"Can you see me? - @Ashh36
that one night - @Me_and_Mel
that one night - @Abinaya
that one night - @noyaan
that one night - @Phoenix_11037
that one night - @geminifatale
100 years - @Almond
that one night - @Almond
that one night - @RandomUnicorn
that one night - @Shrinking_Violet
2 am thoughts - @jxsminxstories
“Can you see me?” - @geminifatale
liar - @RandomUnicorn
liar - @noyaan
2 am thoughts & confusion - @Tay11
liar - @tyratuna
liar - @Shrinking_Violet
the woods- @noyaan
Unclear - RandomUnicorn
the woods - @tyratuna
the woods - @Someone2
liar - @Someone2
under the sheets - @Phoenix_11037
2 am thoughts - @ChrissyG
unclear - @Shrinking_Violet
Questionable - @RandomUnicorn
Questionable - @ChrissyG
that one night - @tyratuna
2 am thoughts - @RebeccaIsabel
“can you see me?” - @BabyBluesGotTheBlues
confused - @Someone2
tension - @Ashh36
wish I could go back - @Someone2
in the dark - @noyaan
in the dark - @Abinaya
confused - @_Epii_x
in the dark - @Me_and_Mel
missed me? - @Ashh36
missed me? - @dazzling_ash
missed me? - @noyaan
missed me? - @Phoenix_11037
the opposites - @RandomUnicorn
under the moon - @Me_and_Mel
under the moon - @noyaan
under the moon - @tyratuna
in the dark - @HermanEpisode
under the moon - @RandomUnicorn
tension - @tyratuna
2 am thoughts - @braily
2 am thoughts - @HermanEpisode
a single note - @RandomUnicorn
suitcases and all - @Someone2
a single note - @tyratuna
liar - @geminifatale
a single note - @Me_and_Mel
under the moon - @Abinaya
interrupted - @tyratuna
questionable - @Courtana
plane crash - @HermanEpisode
liar - @Tay11
Christmas dinner - @noyaan
Christmas dinner - @Ashh36
Christmas dinner - @Me_and_Mel
Christmas dinner - @tyratuna
questionable - @lolzzz
christmas dinner - @dazzling_ash
2 am thoughts - @Amphia
missed me? - @Amphia
the grand escape - @RandomUnicorn
the grand escape - @tyratuna
help - @HermanEpisode
miserable town - @tyratuna
miserable town - @RandomUnicorn
one step for mankind - @noyaan
all alone - @Someone2
miserable town - @ChrissyG
all alone - @Tay11
all alone - @ChrissyG
all alone - @tyratuna
there is a way - @ChrissyG
one step for mankind - @HermanEpisode
don’t get caught - @RandomUnicorn
don’t get caught - @tyratuna
robbery - @noyaan
sent - HermanEpisode
don’t get caught - thewritingtomato
sent - unrequited
There is a way + Under the sheets - Tamara.Episde
plane crash - lolzzz
not-so-normal - @lolzzz
confusion - Tay11
breaking in - Tay11
knocking - noyaan
knocking - tyratuna
knocking - maiarose
in the dark - Almond
can you see me - @yawni.epi

Hope you give this a try or else read some

[Abinaya]

To break the ice I can share the stories I wrote in my other topic when I was 15 Fun times

that one night

My mind wonders to that one summer. A small cabin, I could barely afford, at the coastline. It was not all that luxe. It was not all that big either, I could count the stept from my door to my garden with ease while stepping over all the makeup bags and summer dresses that have been thrown on the ground.

Gosh, only that gives me enough memories to make my hair stand up straight.

But that 2 inch ripped summer dress or that fine red champagne bottle along with all the other belongings on the ground did not matter to me. I would trip five times and be smiling at the next little cut out photo of us that I land on.

It is all worth it when I reach the small door to enter the garden. When I get to see that the woman I love, staring at the little plants she gave water every morning in her favorite silky robe I got for her on the first night here. That woman. It is a shame she did not know the effect she had on me, heck, still has.

I would simple stare. Stare at her. How much excitement comes out of that little tiny body when she sees the plants, she’s been loving and taking care of, grew only one centimeter. Or when they turned the beautiful color she’s been hoping for.

“It makes me think of us.”, she whispered with the most heavenly shade of pink showing up on her puffy cheeks.

But unfortunate. The plants have not seen their water again.

in the dark part 1

1852, her large room at the palace

The reflection in the mirror, was a beautiful young lady. Dressed in a red gown, reflective earrings through the chandelier above her, and her hands tangled in her hair. Her freshly painted nails, one of the court ladies did for her, did not work in her justice when making an attempt at detaching the hairpins she oh-so-badly wanted to take out.

Her long eyelashes blinked out of disbelieve when she heard someone knock on the wooden door she could see through the mirror. “Are you done, Miranda? Your father is expecting you downstairs to meet the guests.”

There she was. Standing there in the silence of the night, forced to spend at this one important event from her father. Smushing her small red lips together with a loud swallowing noise coming from her dry throat, looking her reflecting right in the eye. She didn’t move, she didn’t speak.

Miranda closed her eyes out relief when the sound of a pair of heels was getting softer. “How can I get out of this?” She stayed there with her eyes closed, she couldn’t dare to look herself in the eyes. Luckily, she didn’t have to use her eyes to reach for the little crumpled note she had hidden in her gown.

Holding the crumpled note in front of her and slowly bowing her head while unfolding it.

“Meet me when the sun starts falling, when you need me the most.”

He was Miranda’s little secret. She’s the only one who knew him in the palace. And at this very moment, she needed him the most.

under the moon - part 2

The one thing she thought she would never do, was about to happen. She has been thinking about this day since the moment she received the little crumbled note he placed between her delicate hands.

The same hands that had wiped the rolling tears from her face a few hours ago. The same hands who were about to reach the window besides her perfectly made up bed. Miranda silently shoved her curtains to the side and wrapped her hands around the window handle, still unsure about the decision she was about to make. Her brown eyes lit up to be a beautiful shade of honey when having eye contact with the full moon above her.

Little did she know, that the one person she longed to see, was staring at the same moon. Patiently waiting to take her hand, look her right in the eye, and let the three words escape his sweet curved lips.

Miranda proceeded to sit on the side of the window letting her feet dangle from side to side. “If only my dad saw me now.” she chuckled, follow by a deep breath when reality hit her. Holding the note in front of her, “I don’t think he would wait this long for me. Would he?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Holding her gown from the sides, and taking a one last breath, she jumped. Landing on the freshly cut grass, even her landing was elegant.

While she was running to the love of her life, they were waiting for her to show her face to the thousand people who were ready to see her beauty.

There she was. Looking at the back of the man who waited three hours to see the honey eyes under the moon.

She gently grabbing his hand. He knew d-mn well who this was. Even if he waiting three hours, he can’t seem to turn around. Instead, he released the three words he’s been holding for days.

I love you

[HermanEpisode]

Oh man, I totally forgot about this! Super awesome to be reminded of these stories.

[tyratuna]

omgggg I was so happy when I saw the notif for this post in my email!! I’ll be back I’m gonna pick a prompt and get ta writing

[tyratuna]

i’m back (2hrs later) a rewrite of the story i originally wrote for this prompt

miserable town

The Westbrook County Coroner’s Office was nobody’s dream job. Least of all Viola’s. It was a what-other-options-do-I-have job, a I’m-saddled-with-student-debt job, a rent-in-the-city-is-ridiculous job. It was Viola’s absolute-last-resort job. Still, she was looking for experience. And the cost of living in rural Westbrook was enough to entice– all but force– Viola into once again settling down in the small mountain town. Besides, she had family there. Kind of. Her grandfather, although estranged, was the last living blood-relative she had. She had managed to stay away, live on her own like a real grown up for a few years, but she came back. Just like always, a red string of fate.

It was summer when Viola returned. Hot, dry, disgusting summer. Westbrook was a small county, the town of the same name even smaller. There wasn’t much work for her to do. Hundred die per second. Thousands per minute. But in Westbrook, there was not such thing. In her first three months at the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office, Viola processed no more than 10 corpses. Viola had always loved the science of anatomy. To a degree that concerned her parents when they were still around. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t even the slightest bit disappointed in her lack of work. She pitied the man who ran the funeral home.

It was fall when Viola noticed a change in Westbrook. A strange coincidence at first, almost comical given the quiet nature of the town during the months prior. The day was October 3rd, to be precise. Around 4:30 p.m., half an hour before Viola would go home for the night. There was nothing out of the ordinary, the weather was just below a comfortable chill, the sun would be setting soon enough. By four twenty nine that afternoon, Viola regarded the days before as a fluke– a sick, strange coincidence. But on October 3rd, at 4:30 p.m., just like the day before, and the day before that, there had been another death.

October 4th was much the same, and the 5th, 6th, each day of the month proceeded in the likeness of October 1st. By the 7th, Viola was nearly certain she’d lost her mind. Her boss, the true coroner of the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office, acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The deaths were “all of natural causes, Viola,” and according to the coroner of the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office, Viola was “making a mountain out of a molehill,” that she “shouldn’t let those silly murder mystery novels get to the brain.” For seven days, she agreed. It was her paranoia, the trauma from her parents’ sudden deaths, her perfectionism, even, that was twisting her reason. By the eight day, she was sure she was as sane as she had ever been, and subsequently lost faith in her mentor’s soundness of mind. So she shut up. She shut her mouth and followed the coroner of the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office. She held the scalpel, moved it when appropriate. She shook a ballpoint pen, brought it to paper when appropriate. She nodded her head, whispered agreements when appropriate. And did as she was told.

If Viola’s grandfather, nicknamed “Woody” by the townsfolk, noticed the increasing erraticism in her behavior, he said nothing. The never happy, always grumpy set of his face never shifted an inch. Viola couldn’t blame him for this much. He had lived a long, difficult life. But he wasn’t dull. Viola told nothing to her grandfather. They discussed dinner and weather, the latter only occasionally. He cared in his own way, Woody’s tell wasn’t in his voice or his face. Woody’s tell was in his eyes.

On October 31st, around 4 o’clock in the afternoon, Viola was playing hooky. Thirty days, thirty deaths. Thirty sanity testing incidents. Viola sat at home, feet planted hard on the wooden floors, back straight against the wooden chair, hands resting in her face, gaze fixed ahead. The door creaked as it opened, the floorboards creaked with the weight of each step against them. Viola did not move.

“Viola. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

She didn’t move. She recognized the voice as her grandfathers, only after she had recognized the steps as his. She blinked, willing her lips to curve upwards. Turning to face her grandfather, she gave a horribly insincere smile. Her face mirrored his. Their skin greyed, faces gaunt, eye bags prominent.

“I’m an adult, I can take a day off if I want.”

Woody walked to Viola’s front, her head moving to follow him stride as he sank into the seat across from her. Coughing as he lowered himself, bones cracking with each movement. They only stared at each other for a moment. Viola held back a laugh.

“The hell’s your problem?” Woody broke the silence, his words coming out in a huff.

Viola’s smile widened, “You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you, Woody.”

Woody grunted, leaning back in his seat, his brows furrowed as he looked at Viola. He had lived in Westbrook hiss whole life. Woody wasn’t dull.

“Whatever you think you’re getting into–“

“I didn’t know there was anything to get into. Please, enlighten me.”

“Enough.”

Viola squinted at him, dropping her smile. She frowned for a moment before brining a hand to her face. Her expression contorted into a grimace. It was a look of desperation. Viola swallowed her pride, “Grandpa. You know something. You have to tell me.”

Woody only shook his head, sighing. They were silent again, Viola watched with wide eyes as her grandfather brought his head to rest in his hands. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it when Woody raised his head. His eyes were his tell.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, kid.”The Westbrook County Coroner’s Office was nobody’s dream job. Least of all Viola’s. It was a what-other-options-do-I-have job, a I’m-saddled-with-student-debt job, a rent-in-the-city-is-ridiculous job. It was Viola’s absolute-last-resort job. Still, she was looking for experience. And the cost of living in rural Westbrook was enough to entice– all but force– Viola into once again settling down in the small mountain town. Besides, she had family there. Kind of. Her grandfather, although estranged, was the last living blood-relative she had. She had managed to stay away, live on her own like a real grown up for a few years, but she came back. Just like always, a red string of fate.

It was summer when Viola returned. Hot, dry, disgusting summer. Westbrook was a small county, the town of the same name even smaller. There wasn’t much work for her to do. Hundred die per second. Thousands per minute. But in Westbrook, there was not such thing. In her first three months at the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office, Viola processed no more than 10 corpses. Viola had always loved the science of anatomy. To a degree that concerned her parents when they were still around. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t even the slightest bit disappointed in her lack of work. She pitied the man who ran the funeral home.

It was fall when Viola noticed a change in Westbrook. A strange coincidence at first, almost comical given the quiet nature of the town during the months prior. The day was October 3rd, to be precise. Around 4:30 p.m., half an hour before Viola would go home for the night. There was nothing out of the ordinary, the weather was just below a comfortable chill, the sun would be setting soon enough. By four twenty nine that afternoon, Viola regarded the days before as a fluke– a sick, strange coincidence. But on October 3rd, at 4:30 p.m., just like the day before, and the day before that, there had been another death.

October 4th was much the same, and the 5th, 6th, each day of the month proceeded in the likeness of October 1st. By the 7th, Viola was nearly certain she’d lost her mind. Her boss, the true coroner of the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office, acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The deaths were “all of natural causes, Viola,” and according to the coroner of the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office, Viola was “making a mountain out of a molehill,” that she “shouldn’t let those silly murder mystery novels get to the brain.” For seven days, she agreed. It was her paranoia, the trauma from her parents’ sudden deaths, her perfectionism, even, that was twisting her reason. By the eight day, she was sure she was as sane as she had ever been, and subsequently lost faith in her mentor’s soundness of mind. So she shut up. She shut her mouth and followed the coroner of the Westbrook County Coroner’s Office. She held the scalpel, moved it when appropriate. She shook a ballpoint pen, brought it to paper when appropriate. She nodded her head, whispered agreements when appropriate. And did as she was told.

If Viola’s grandfather, nicknamed “Woody” by the townsfolk, noticed the increasing erraticism in her behavior, he said nothing. The never happy, always grumpy set of his face never shifted an inch. Viola couldn’t blame him for this much. He had lived a long, difficult life. But he wasn’t dull. Viola told nothing to her grandfather. They discussed dinner and weather, the latter only occasionally. He cared in his own way, Woody’s tell wasn’t in his voice or his face. Woody’s tell was in his eyes.

On October 31st, around 4 o’clock in the afternoon, Viola was playing hooky. Thirty days, thirty deaths. Thirty sanity testing incidents. Viola sat at home, feet planted hard on the wooden floors, back straight against the wooden chair, hands resting in her face, gaze fixed ahead. The door creaked as it opened, the floorboards creaked with the weight of each step against them. Viola did not move.

“Viola. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

She didn’t move. She recognized the voice as her grandfathers, only after she had recognized the steps as his. She blinked, willing her lips to curve upwards. Turning to face her grandfather, she gave a horribly insincere smile. Her face mirrored his. Their skin greyed, faces gaunt, eye bags prominent.

“I’m an adult, I can take a day off if I want.”

Woody walked to Viola’s front, her head moving to follow him stride as he sank into the seat across from her. Coughing as he lowered himself, bones cracking with each movement. They only stared at each other for a moment. Viola held back a laugh.

“The hell’s your problem?” Woody broke the silence, his words coming out in a huff.

Viola’s smile widened, “You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you, Woody.”

Woody grunted, leaning back in his seat, his brows furrowed as he looked at Viola. He had lived in Westbrook hiss whole life. Woody wasn’t dull.

“Whatever you think you’re getting into–“

“I didn’t know there was anything to get into. Please, enlighten me.”

“Enough.”

Viola squinted at him, dropping her smile. She frowned for a moment before brining a hand to her face. Her expression contorted into a grimace. It was a look of desperation. Viola swallowed her pride, “Grandpa. You know something. You have to tell me.”

Woody only shook his head, sighing. They were silent again, Viola watched with wide eyes as her grandfather brought his head to rest in his hands. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it when Woody raised his head. His eyes were his tell.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, kid.”

here’s a link to my original response from 2020

[Abinaya]

@HermanEpisode @tyratuna so good to see you again

[Abinaya]

you improved a lot and restored my soul

[Abinaya]

New prompt!

And… cut!
The action backstage was even more dramatic than the story unfolding onstage.

@HermanEpisode @tyratuna alsoooo do you guys have episode stories

[tyratuna]

thank youuu and i do have a story but I haven’t published a new ep in a while. I had a friend of mine read it and he made me wanna continue it but I’m debating whether I should revamp or just continue where I left off

description btw it's called 'sleeping dogs'

Four teens find themselves forced to solve a mystery together. Will they uncover the secrets of Rochdale or will they discover it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie?

[HermanEpisode]

I do have one, but it’s currently on hiatus as of right now. It’s called Vicious Fate (:

[Tay11]

WAIT! I REMEMBER YOU! OH MY GOSH! @Abinaya

[yawni.epi]

**Can you see me **
As I headed out for my evening walk, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment washing over me. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over everything in its path. I breathed in the fresh air, feeling the gentle breeze tickling my skin.

Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice the figure in front of me until it was too late. I bumped into them, and they stumbled backwards. I quickly reached out to steady them, apologizing profusely. But when I looked up to meet their eyes, I felt a jolt of confusion.

The person couldn’t seem to see or hear me. They were staring right through me as if I wasn’t there at all. I waved my hand in front of their face, trying to get their attention, but I might as well have been invisible.

Panic began to set in as I realized I was trapped in some sort of strange world. I tried calling out to them, but my voice was nothing more than a whisper in the wind. I watched helplessly as the person walked away, completely oblivious to my presence.

As I stood there, alone and forgotten, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had stumbled into some sort of alternate dimension. Whatever it was, I knew I needed to find a way out – and fast.

[Abinaya]

I shed a tear it’s beautifully written

[Abinaya]

I remember you too tay! Was hoping to see you here againn

[Tay11]

Yep, I’m still the same. A bunch of ideas yet nothing published yet.

[Abinaya]

I will root for you when you do! For inspiration you can write some prompts out coughhh

I’m just now continueing with my story too its okay

[Tay11]

Girl, let me tell you! The amount of google docs of ideas and unfinished concepts I have. LOL, I love to write still though! Currently made progress on this thing. Here some random screenshots for ya.

Here

[Abinaya]

[RandomUnicorn]

Oooo it’s super tempting to try out some prompts I skipped or rewrite a few of them — curse my brain for already getting storyline ideas. I may come back later but I just got 3 puppies so… staying up late to write probably won’t be happening.

[Abinaya]

omgg i remember you good to see you back love puppiess