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Story prompt 4- this one is kinda weird but interesting.
Patricio is an orphan from Brethren who falls in love with his stepsister. The two are separated when the stepsister gets a horrifying tattoo of the symbol of a gang, she was in. Patricio walks the streets forever, yearning for his loss.
A few years later, he finds his sister in a coffee shop but doesn’t know it. He is still alone, and she is rich with her own company. She is 50 and he is 52. He ends up falling in love with her but what he didn’t know is that was his stepsister. They get married and live forever unknowingly they were step-siblings all along…
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Story prompt 3
A farmer from Davao City is delighted when she gets the chance to take part in the final of a baking competition. However, her chances are ruined when she is kidnapped. It turns out the farmer has been dead all along, by the man who kidnapped her. She was just there to re-live it all.
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Story prompt 2
A rower from Detroit is thrilled when he gets the chance to take part in the final of a rowing contest. However, during the competition he realises he is losing to another person. As they left everyone behind and it was just them two, the rower gets an idea. He rows closer to his competitor and drowns him in the river. A start of a life of crime.
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Story prompt 1
A lawyer from LA is delighted when she gets the chance to take part in a new investigation going on. However, her chances are scuppered when her ex-husband goes missing. Turns out she actually was working on the investigation of her missing ex-husband. The lawyer commits suicide in result of her being reminded of her ex-husband.
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Short story4- POV's
Short story 4- POV’S
POV: You are kidnapped, and you are tied up, you try to escape whilst I sleep.
The gag in my mouth was huge, I could barely breath with it in. My arms hung in the air with a lot of the zip ties too tight. I could feel my blood rushing through my body, trying to get anywhere it possibly could before I lost all of it. I turned my head to look at my kidnapper, he was fast asleep on the couch, a beer in his right hand and a cigarette in the other. I started swinging myself, to see If I were able to escape, maybe I could free myself by swinging? And then I realised it, I knew a way to get out. I knew my arms were particularly strong, so I swung my legs up and managed to get my shoelace tangled up in the zip ties. I grabbed it (just) with my two fingers and rubbed it together on top of the ties. SNAP! I was let go, I rubbed the wrists of my hand and looked at them, they were red and throbbed. I had no time to be happy, I had to get out of here. I had already been missing for a week! Scanning through the room, I looked for an exit. And lo and behold there it was! I realised I was being held in a garage, and my stupid kidnapper had left a little part open. I knew I had to be as silent as possible if It was going to be successful. I squeezed my small body through the gap in the garage door. In some unlucky time, he had been awoken by the me accidentally kicking the boxes down, but I was already out and running. Sprinting in fact. I turned around to see him running after me, but I knew he was weak and drunk. I could hear his screams echo around the plain fields. It was just empty grass lands and his house.
POV: You are at a party with your friends, they get drunk and deal drugs that they were offered. They ask you to join them, but you refuse, they get angry at you and get influenced.
It had been awhile since I was allowed to go out by myself. Me and my friends were going to a rave late in the night and spent the rest of the day in the park.
Finally we got to the rave, it was 11pm and I was getting tired, but I still had energy. We went In and the rave was already going. The artist we came to see was getting ready to get up onto the stage. My friends set up a tent and we stayed there until we wanted to go out. One of my friends left the tent, she had told us she wanted to go get some snacks from the stand on the other side. We nodded and she went. After a bit, we decided to leave our tent, and join the party. The flashing glow-in-the-dark sticks were so cool in the night.
The artist we came here for sung and we all had a great time, my friends came round with bottles and they started to drink from them. I checked the bottle and read it had alcohol, I told them, and they told me that I was such a baby. I ignored them and put the bottle away. An hour later, my friends went back to the tent, where they met up with a bunch of older kids, who were dealing drugs. I tapped one of my friends on the shoulder and told her what I was seeing, she didn’t respond because she was drunk and went straight towards them. What? I called out to them and they told me that I was a freak, and I should stop and go home if I was too scared. I knew this wasn’t the real them because they were drunk. Right? Angrily I told them to shut up, and they got threw it right back at me. I screamed at them, told them they were drunk and shouldn’t be smoking or dealing illegal substances. Yet, they ignored me and continued.
Then it hit me, I had never done this before and one of my friends who I thought was a goodie-two-shoes was joining them. I realised I had to be better than her. And so, I joined them. I agreed to what they were giving me.
Come 2AM and the rave was ending. I was high and my friends were blacked out.
This was a new sensation that I had never felt before, and I liked it.
As the days went by, I always smoked after school, and I enjoyed it. Me and my friends would stay behind after school and go home at like 9, just before my parents went to work. One night I came home, high and my parents asked me where I was. I lied and told them I was at my friend’s house, studying.
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Short story 3
Short story 3- Serial Killer
He watched as the deep, grey clouds rolled in. They were thick and ready to blow. He sat on his bed, it creaked as he got up to put on his slippers. The thunder boomed as the rain spat onto the ground. Before he left, he took one last look at the dark, gloomy night out of his window. He shivered. This was the first time he was doing this. Sneakily, he opened his bedroom door, his clock beeped 2:33 AM. Luckily his bedroom was on the ground floor, by the kitchen so he was able to quickly make an escape for it. Right into the living room and out. He threw off his robe onto the sofa, put on his actual shoes and grabbed his phone and charger. As quietly as he could, he opened the front door, and was able to go. Finally! He sighed in relief. With no time to be pleased with himself, he dashed to the bus stop. He had planned his escape and knew the bus would arrive just as he was at the bus stop. And he was correct. The bus stopped and opened its doors like opening its arms wide for him to enter. A warm welcome. Smiling at the bus driver, he gave him his ticket and walked inside. The driver gave him a suspicious look but smiled back. As he passed other people, he found his seat at the back of the bus and went on his phone. He never liked to take the bus, he preferred walking, but it was too far and dark to walk. Besides, it was his first time going out at two in the morning. Yawning he turned his phone off and looked out the window. He was free, he was finally free.
A few minutes later the bus stopped at the last station. He was going to have to take a cab from here, but luckily his friends drove around when they felt like it. And this was one of those nights. Getting off and thanking the driver he waited at the bus stop for his friends. Waiting. Waiting. Bored of expecting them, he called his friend, who told him they were pulling up right now. And yet, they weren’t there. He couldn’t see them. Nor could he see anyone. A thud from behind him made him jump, someone had fallen off a train track. Getting up, he ran to the train station, right behind him. He searched for the person who had fallen, but he couldn’t see anyone.
Shaking his head, he was suddenly thrust back into reality. Where he found himself inside his friends’ car. Warm and welcome. When he realised where he was, they laughed and shared jokes. They were all headed there. All of his friends.
As the rain grew heavier and heavier, they finally arrived at their destination. Thanking his friends he hopped out of the car, and with that they drove off. Wait, where were they going? Weren’t they supposed to be coming to? Waving it off, he went into the woods. The trees towered over his head like giants or dinosaurs. He put his hood on, walked into the dark wood, and whispered to himself. He knew nothing would make him happier than his freedom. Or so he thought.
The lights were bright, and colourful. The noise defended him, but he enjoyed it. He knew no-one was going to hear the shrieks of people. The party was flashy and full of drunk teenagers. Perfect.
His freedom was this. It was something he wanted to do all his teenage hood. Pushing his way through people, he made his way to the centre. Where everyone was. He knew no-one there, but that made it better. For half-an-hour, he thought he heard the continuous thud, of someone falling from into the train tracks, the noise of the horn of the train, the squelch, the blood, the trauma.
At the drinks stand, he found a drunk teenager, a petite little girl, who looked around the same age as him but much more beautiful. Very gorgeous. He talked to her, for the half of the party. Sometimes he didn’t understand what she said but played along as he knew she was drunk. That was when the idea popped into his head.
He bought her a lot of Vodka, and beer. Made her stuff it down into her belly, until she was almost blacked out. He smiled. As he struggled to pick her up, he dragged her into the forest. Away from the party, far away. When he knew where he was, he whispered softly in her ears,
“I’m going to kill you now.”
Stretching his arms high, he got out of bed.
A while later, he dressed, full and ready to go to school. The 16-year-old was happy. He had gotten away with another one. He smiled to himself, they’d find another body, but no murderer.
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I'm giving you some story ideas (i got these from a plot generator, tag me if you want more @mysleeplesswriter) BTW: the story might not make sense but you can change it lol
Green Great Homes
A Short Story by "Your name here"
Katie Rogers had always hated Green Great Homes with its hard, homely Hills. It was a place where she felt Angry. She was a mean, violent, coffee drinker with White thighs and brown eyebrows. Her friends saw her as a crowded, careful Cheetah. Once, she had even helped a steamed baby bird recover from a flying accident. That's the sort of woman he was. Katie walked over to the window and reflected on her Quiet surroundings. The Stormy teased like Sprinting elephants. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Miles Sandy. Miles was a brutal monster with creepy thighs and cute eyebrows. Katie gulped. She was not prepared for Miles. As Katie stepped outside and Miles came closer, she could see the drab glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want Revenge," Miles bellowed, in a brave tone.
He slammed his fist against Katie's chest, with the force of 7143 ostriches. "I frigging hate you, Katie Rogers."
Katie looked back, even more jumpy and still fingering the Sharp knife.
"Miles, I hope you die," she replied. They looked at each other with Pissed feelings, like two doubtful, damp dogs Killing at a very predatory Rave, which had pop music playing in the background and two creepy uncles thinking to the beat. Katie studied Miles's creepy thighs and cute eyebrows. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you Revenge," she explained, in pitying tones. Miles looked Pleased, his body raw like a kaleidoscopic, knowledgeable kettle. Katie could actually hear Miles's body shatter into 4469 pieces. Then the brutal monster hurried away into the distance. Not even a cup of coffee would calm Katie's nerves tonight
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Short story 2
Short story 2- Ferndale Grounds
She loved to go after-school sports, every week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. One of her favourite sports to play was football. On a particular day she had forgotten to tell her mother that she was going to club, although her mum knew she was going sometimes she would forget. Sure that her mother knew she went to her club.
Her and her friends were having a great time.
As the club came to an end, the teacher sent everyone one their ways home. Rubbing the sweat of her face, she turned to walk with her friends, only for her teacher to beckon her. He thrust a white piece of paper into her hand and said nothing.
“What’s this sir?”
“Head there and you’ll find out, it’s just a trip letter. I’ve seen you’re particularly good at sports. I need you too head there so you can get it right or something.” He waved his hand at her. Smiling she walked away, finally she was getting what she wanted.
After hopping onto the bus, she set her route onto Google Maps. Ferndale Grounds.
Quickly, she boarded the next train into Ferndale Grounds. It didn’t take long for her to get there. On the station platform she was greeted by two men, who looked around the age of +20.
She greeted herself, “Hey, my name is-"
She was cut off by the men grabbing her arm too tightly and dragging her away and out of the Station, away from other people.
“What the hell are you doing. I thought you were just supposed to--"
The world had never been so dark, but when I couldn’t see no more, I was able to find a light. A light at the end of the never-ending tunnel.
Come 5:30 and Elise wasn’t home. Her mother started to panic so she called her phone. No answer.
Again...
No answer
Again...tears running down her cheeks.
Nothing
Instantaneously, she called 999.
A week after investigation had been going on, she got a call from the local police. Elise's mother was sitting with her friends, worried and crying. She picked It up, her hand shaking. Filled with hope, she thought there was good news to come. That they had found her baby. Only...they hadn’t, they’d found a body, who they identified to be... Elise Kalie.
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Hey, ive got some for ya! @riftversus
writeblr seeking writeblrs
welp, the people i followed two years ago have long since moved on. hi everyone, i’m max and i write about working class people in fake universes!
if you post:
original fiction
fantasy or sci-fi
scripts, webcomics, screenplays, or poetry
philosophy or mathematics
writeblr or bookblr Content
reblog this and let’s become mutuals! and tell me about your current projects in the comments so i can check them out!
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Short story 1
No…
Sitting down, in her favourite place, she lifted her light head. Her hair flowing gracefully around her face as the wind grew stronger, slowly but surely. She remembered this, she liked it. Smiling, she pushed her hair behind her ear and whispered, “Goodnight, I’ll see you later.”
Slowly, she rubbed her hands on her jeans and walked away. The cold, lonely pond lay still and almost drained, the daffodils swayed, and soft, velvety petals flew all around in the air. The wind whistled and hummed the ancient songs that it had heard all its years. Dead, bony trees stand frozen like the army during military practise. Swings creaked as they shifted in the breeze.
This way…that way…. this way…. that way…this—
Rubbing her cold, pale arms she turned her head, her hair getting in the way of her eyes. She had had enough of this; she’d got to do it!
No. A voice in her head told her.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“No,” she gave up.
Shaking her head, she walked home, frustrated, and tired.
Finally…home. She grinned. Placing her keys and phone on the side table, she sprinted up the stairs and into her room. Then she felt something. Something sinister, cold… evil. Breathing deeply, she told herself that it was fine, it was normal.
Right?
Walking into the bathroom to wash her face of tears, she looked at herself. Stared…right into this woman. This woman wasn’t her…
In a blink of an eye, the lights flickered and turned off. Now, she was in a pitch-black room. Frantically, trying to search for the small light switch a wooden mop clattered onto the floor, making her jump. Suddenly, they switched on. The room was filled with a sickly yellow glow. Throwing her head to look at the mirror, her hand started shaking. It was here. She was here. And there on the mirror she read out loud, “No.”
No.
No.
No…
N. O.
She repeated, smiling, “No…”
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We love you George Floyd and RIP ♥️♥️
When Derek Chauvin was found guilty on all three charges surrounding his murder of George Floyd, the conversation found on Tumblr (and elsewhere online) reflected two major points:
This is not justice being served. There is no justice in the face of murder, and if there were, it certainly would not be found within the American carceral system. The verdict stemming from this trial will not stop the violence and oppression Black people face at the hands of an over-policed country.
“Black people don’t need reminders that Chauvin’s guilty verdict doesn’t mean the fight is over. It’s okay to celebrate small victories.”
These truths are not at odds with each other. They can, and will, co-exist.
Take a moment today to celebrate George Floyd and his beautiful family. Keep his little daughter in your mind and hearts. If you want to feel a bit of relief that at least one person was found guilty for their hateful, heinous crime—please do so. And then remember that it was just one person. Remember that if you are an ally and an accomplice, you must not stop learning. You must not stop fighting for real justice.
Accountability for police killings is rare:
Since 2005, 140 law enforcement officers have been arrested for on-duty manslaughter and murder. Only 8—5%—have been convicted.
And that doesn’t account for the 98% of police killings where there were no arrests for murder or manslaughter.
Black people are three times more likely to be killed by police
And then yesterday, roughly one hour after Nancy Pelosi thanked George Floyd for “sacrificing” his “life for justice,” police in Columbus, Ohio shot and killed 16-year-old Ma'Khia Bryant.
That is not what justice looks like.
Rest in power, George Floyd.
Rest in power, Ma’Khia Bryant.
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Cute, but i did not make this i cant even draw a circle lol
💛 Let me know how you like this new portrait! :)
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Lingering in the darkness- 100 words
He kissed her cheek, said goodbye, and went off. The door creaked open as he walked outside. The streets were dark and the only source of light was from the street lamps, that barely even worked. Unlocking the car, he hopped in and started the engine. At that moment he felt as if someone was watching him. Waiting for him to move away. He rolled down his window but there wasn’t anyone, with relief he drove off to work.
Half an hour later, when he had arrived, his phone rang. It was the police; his wife and daughter were dead...
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Child Killer- 100 words- short story
He had disappeared... right in front of our eyes. I was fuming when I found out they’d let him go shopping. He’s a psychopath for god's sake. A children's killer. My chair squeaked as I searched through the papers, trying to find anything that might help us find him. Lester Eubanks, I said over and over again, as if that would bring him right in front of me. It made my blood curdle as the image of Mary Ellen’s corpse shoved itself into my brain. Missing since December 7th1973. Where the hell is, he? A death row fugitive. Slick.
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I should know I'm not alone
Everyone is stuck at home,
And they feel as they are alone,
Nothing to do,
There is not a few,
My mind swirling with thoughts and feelings,
Now I must go to online meetings and greetings,
I think I am the only one,
But no-one from my family is gone,
My mind swirling with stress and depression,
Now I have to feign my facial expressions,
I should stop acting like this,
Why does this feel like a mid-life crisis?
Are other people like this, maybe?
Daily,
My heart of stone,
I should know I’m not alone,
I should know I am not alone.
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I have realised that anyone is good to talk to and that your family is the best source of income for your feelings. School is going to be good when we go back, seeing everyone and talking to real people instead of looking at them through a computer or laptop. Remember to be happy and stay positive. Venting or ranting to people can sometimes help, too especially if its someone you know and trust, and if they are a really good listener. Knowing that you are not alone is good and knowing others feel the same is okay. Because once your problems are fixed you are able to share what made you happy and make them happy. 😊
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