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Writing Prompt #154

The foil scrunched as A pulled it off of the left over lasagna, and continued to do so as they made it into a ball and tossed it into the recycling bin. Mid-way through their small celebratory dance they heard the front door open.

“I’m home!” B shouted from the hall as they kicked off their shoes, careful to not step in the bits of melting snow as they carried in the groceries.

“Welcome back,” A answered as B moved into the kitchen, “do you wanna share the left over lasang-ah!” A froze up as B put their ice cold hands under their shirt.

“Dibs on the biggest piece.” B smiled.

“Not after that you don’t!

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Writing Prompt #153

The feeling that washed over the Hero when they woke up was familiar, that feeling off painkillers and over exertion that hung over them like thick fog. Before they even opened their eyes they could tell they were with Medic, their powers washing over the hero’s wounds felt like when their parent had covered bad sunburns in aloe gel during a vacation gone bad.

They opened their eyes and were almost immediately faced with medic’s signature disappointed scowl.

“So how are you going to explain this one to Superhero?”

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Writing Prompt #152

Vigilante could tell this one had been bad, based on both how their body ached when they tried to move and what they were lying on; old bowling alley carpet. They rolled over whit a whine and a sigh, looking up at the decrepit, familiar ceiling for the bowling alley in the old mall.

They took a breath, then another, and sat up. Then a third, a fourth, and pushed themselves to their feet. Standing went well enough, walking less so. They could feel growing blisters on their feet, so they too their boots off and started walking.

Out of the bowling alley, out of the mall, and onto the pavement. They saw the sun rise behind the sky scrapers of the big city, and their gut feeling told them it was around 6 am.

They had to get going before the next Hero patrol started.

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Sensory Prompts

cold, smooth slate

smell of smoke in icy air

a shimmer of water droplets in the sun

mint leaves

cold mud

the squeak of an old wooden staircase

paper tearing

light on the bottom of a clear pool

radio static

wind chimes

light reflected on puddles

the green iridescence of a beetle’s wing

slipping into warm water

a glow stick being snapped

night wind carrying the scent of freshly baked bread

wet, rotting leaves

dice against a table

the taste left in your mouth after a dentist’s appointment

a bite of an apple

people talking a room away

walking barefoot on sidewalk

dark, bitter chocolate

dryer lint

plucking a peach off the tree

calloused palm

pine needles

aloe being slathered on a sunburn

eggshells cracking

a dog’s cold nose

porch light in the distance

pouring something into a glass

soft cat feet

scraping at a scab

a deer darting away under the trees

jumping into a cold pool

a paper cut

a too-rich dessert

putting on clean underwear

an unpleasantly damp handshake

sweaty socks

the soft fur behind a dog’s ears

crunching ice at the bottom of the glass

licking your fingers while eating Cheetos

fighting against the urge to cry

floating on your back in water

soreness after exercise

the smell of an elderly relative’s house

bowling alley carpet

fresh paint

fireworks close enough to feel in your chest

the radio playing in the background at a restaurant

watching aquarium fish

a toilet flushing in a public restroom

your breath coming out in clouds in the cold

putting accidentally way too much salt on your food

poking at a bruise

rain on a metal roof

scent of a damp basement

the weird green afterimage after coming in from the snow

getting scratched by briars

a popsicle stick against your tongue

opening a window

walking on gravel

cold pizza

blowing out a candle

a swallow of a carbonated drink

packing peanuts

a bleeding mosquito bite

trying to fall asleep in a too-warm room

loud laughter somewhere else in the neighborhood

a round rock in the palm of your hand

putting your hair in a tight ponytail

steam rising from a bowl of soup

gum with all the flavor chewed out of it

the feel of banana peel

heavy boots

latex gloves

cold coins

an earthworm squirming in your palm

someone pulling away from a hug you wish would last longer

cloudless summer sky

ripping up a tuft of grass

getting water in your eyes

clean sheets

the packaging of snack food you’re eating late at night

cold water down your neck

nasty-tasting medicine

cleaning dirt from under your nails

holding your breath underwater

flies buzzing

thick fog

aluminum foil

the smell of stagnant water

the light of a full moon

bending a green twig in your hands

another person touching your skin with cold hands

motion sickness

tufts of shed fur

hard candy dissolving in your mouth

a feeling of acceleration in your chest

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

“You-,” Villain narrows their eyes, “You’re messing with me.”

“Am I?” Hero muses, tone easy as if they were discussing the weather and Villain’s upper lip curls away from their teeth.

“Yeah, you are,” Villain snaps, looking down their nose at them, “And you need to stop before I make you stop.”

Hero makes an absentminded noise in the back of their throat. They unfasten another button from their shirt.

“Is that so?” they say, and the tips of Villain’s ears go hot.

(If you use this prompt, reblog and/or tag me for credit.)

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

This is... another very good one!! I especially love the exasperated “call an ambulance.”

Greetings! Here’s a bit of angst none of you asked for this fine evening! 

Small World

Summary: One last phone call. 

[tw: major character death, blood]

The call dial rang, a brusque mulled beeping that grated against Ryan’s ears. The alley was silent, but for his own hissed breath. There were red fingerprints smeared on his lit phone screen. 

“Ryan?” Shane’s voice came through the phone speaker, scratchy with sleep. Ryan hadn’t heard it for months, but it was still so familiar, the warm tenor of it loosening the pressure in his chest. 

It didn’t matter that the last time he’d heard that voice it had been tight, volume barely raised with the venom it carried. It didn’t matter that he had said horrible things in return. 

Ryan only knew that he was hearing Shane’s voice again. Ryan wanted to smile, so he did. There was no one to see him here. 

“What kind of time do you call this?" 

"Hey,” Ryan said, voice quiet, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s fine,” Shane grunted, “What do you want?”

“Well I’ve got a, uh, bit of a problem,” said Ryan, “some trouble.”

Keep reading

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

I just found your blog and it's so very nice, love all the prompts, the writing and all that comes in between. I may or may not be writing something based on one of them, they are all so deliciously angsty and full of potential, A+ my friend

Thank you so much!! It really means a lot to us to get compliments :D

We’d love to see the end result of what you’re writing! Feel free to tag us in it if you share it!!

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

First Line Tag

Thank you to @phoenixisdabestwriter for tagging us in this!! It means a lot 🥺

So! We’re doing both of our stories, so here we go.

Space’s first line:

The phone rang. Why did the fucking- did it have to do that now?

They scrambled to pick it up while keeping their eyes on the road, "Dawson, who is it and can you call back later?"

Tia’s first line:

The courtyard was empty when they pulled up outside it. Not empty empty, of course, there were schoolkids mingling around and people walking by, but there were no demons.

At least, not to the human eye.

And the three people we tag to post their first lines are @silverinkgoldenquill , @dungeons-and-dragons-and-whump and @clockworknightmares !!

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

OH NOOOOO!!! I love this!!

Writing Prompt #124

A sat crying, finger hovering shakily over the call button. B would be asleep, and they didn’t want to wake them- they were a bad enough morning person as it was. But they needed help, and desperately. They didn’t think they had much time left.

The phone rang for a while, the tone echoing throughout the stone walls of the room they were in, before B’s croaky voice answered.

“What sorta time do you call this?”

“Hey, B…” A said, their voice small, “I’m sorry to wake you up… I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important…”

“It’s… it’s okay,” B replied groggily, “what’s up?”

“I have a slight problem…” said A, “I’m uh… in a little bit of trouble-”

“Oh…? That doesn’t sound good.”

“No…” A sobbed, looking down at the blood beginning to seep through their shirt. “It’s really not.”

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Hello!

It’s Tia here, and I just wanted to quickly plug my art account on Instagram!

https://www.instagram.com/azxra.art/

I started it up just recently and I’m sharing it with you guys here because I draw my OCs occasionally! I know I haven’t posted any written content on here with them lately, but maybe soon. ;) I would really appreciate if those of you with Instagram checked it out, and maybe even gave it a follow! I try and post pretty frequently because I’m ever wanting to improve my drawing skills.

Also...

Prompts will be resuming very soon! It’s been a bit of a long, creativity-block filled hiatus, but I want to get back into writing more and if I can set myself at least one or two a week, I know I can keep improving. So yes... look out for that too.

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

A whumpee that almost escapes,they saw the sun for a few seconds before being dragged back inside by the whimper, and now they can’t do anything but wait for their punishment.

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Babies. I love them :’)

new babes! this isn’t whumpy, just chaotic and fun. meet miah, rafi, and rocco!

“That’s a god, Rafi!”

“I know! I know that! Miah, come back here, please!”

Miah is already gone, bolting down the street like a whirlwind of gay caffiene-filled poor judgement. Rafi flutters along, hands out by their sides in dainty worry. They run just as lightly as they speak, quiet and quick. There’s no real point to being graceful, though, when following along behind someone like Miah.

People on the street are shoved out of the way and leapt around as Miah plows through the midday crowd.

“He’s doing it again,” Rafi cries out, wings twitching in the air as the instinct to fly and get a real guardian angel’s view comes over them. “Rocco, come here, please, he’s chasing a god.”

The shadows of the people being pushed aside twist together on the pavement to build themselves, dark and winding, into the shape of a tall broad tank of a person. “He’s what?” Black hair, long and sleek, billows out behind her as Rocco smoothly takes her form running beside her angel friend.

“Chasing a god!” Shrieks Rafi. “He found a god and-! And said-! He had to-! Check his vibe! And the god attacked and Miah said, bad vibe! I don’t-! Understand!”

Rocco shakes her head, the mane of hair falling tousled then smoothing out in the wind created by her sprinting. “I’ll get him. You keep watch.”

Nodding, relieved, Rafi sweeps their wings outward and is caught up in the day’s gentle breeze, swooping into the air to catch Miah in their eyes and hover above, ready to dive down and protect. Rocco leans her body forward for more speed, wide blocky boots slamming against the pavement, wide arms pumping at her sides. She’s gaining on Miah, on that stupid human who insists on chasing down supernatural beings like he’s a kindergartener chasing girls on the playground for a kiss on the cheek. It’s dangerous. It worries Rafi so much.

A wide grin spreads across Rocco’s face. She can’t claim to hate the rush of adrenaline that comes with stirring up a little bit of chaos.

She gets all the rush that she needs, though, catching up to Miah and scooping him up in her arms. The human yelps and twists, swinging ring-clad fists uselessly, kicking at the air. Rocco’s arms stifle the struggling and all the movement of the chase slows to a stop as she stands there, Miah gasping from the sprint and sulking, Rafi lighting upon the ground beside them, wings tucking in at their back neatly.

“Jeremiah,” Scolds the angel, face twisted in worry. Miah sighs, head flopping back over Rocco’s bicep.

“Okay. I’m sorry, Rafi. It’s just. I’ve never seen that one before. He had horns and shit!”

“And bad vibes, or so I hear,” Rocco hums, releasing Miah with a heavy pat on the back. “You shouldn’t mess with gods, you know that? That’s how you got cursed in the first place, dumbass.” At a mildly uneasy glance from the angel, the demon sighs. “…Dummy.”

“Really bad vibes!” Confirms Miah, adjusting his wildly mismatched jackets and scarves. “Didn’t mean to stress you out, Rafi, honest. I just - oh shit it’s a djinn.”

“Jeremiah don’t you dare-” Punching out a startled squeak, Rafi leaps back in the air to keep an eye on things as soon as Miah launches forward to accost the djinn down the street. Rocco jumps up and down, stretching her arms above her head and swinging them out at her sides.

“Here we go again.”

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Writing Prompt #151

“Well, won’t you look at that,” The mentor stepped over two bodies as they entered the room, “I was right about you having a... special talent.”

Their pupil glared at them from across the room, splattered in blood and breathing heavily, “There wasn’t an easier way to confirm that? Like asking?”

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

So, my private (@exploringspaceinpyjamas), got tagged in this by @albino-whumpee so, in the spirit of bringing this blog back to life, I figured I’d answer it with some writing-related favourites here :)

1. Whumpee being found by whumper after a being apart, whether it's for a couple of minutes as the whumper catches up to a failed escape attempt or being apart for years, a reunion where the whumpee just /knows/ it's not going to end well for them is an 11/10 2. "Gotcha" moments in dialogue. There's just something so satisfying when a character catches the other one off guard with information they shouldn't have. 3. Worldbuilding. I have 11 Nations with fleshed out rulers and history and close to no writing in said world, so it's easy to see which part if my favourite. 4. Songs that inspire writing or characters, "Soldier, Poet, King" and "Where is your Rider?" by The Oh Hellos are great for getting the cogs turning. 5. Not completely writing-related, but colourful notes! Different colours of ink, post-it notes, and the such. My world notes look more like a scrapbook than anything if I'm honest.

Now to continue it, the most recent reblogs are: @eldest-of-katts @mage-of-space-elle @mymusehatesme @alenalokidottir@fillyreports @laterzalettrice and @creator-zee (without going too far back)

Now that we’re planning to be more active, we’d love to actually get in touch with other blogs with similar interests, so don’t hesitate to send a message if something piques your interest ;)

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

ANOTHER GOOD ONE!! This hurts me

Writing Prompt #124

A sat crying, finger hovering shakily over the call button. B would be asleep, and they didn’t want to wake them- they were a bad enough morning person as it was. But they needed help, and desperately. They didn’t think they had much time left.

The phone rang for a while, the tone echoing throughout the stone walls of the room they were in, before B’s croaky voice answered.

“What sorta time do you call this?”

“Hey, B…” A said, their voice small, “I’m sorry to wake you up… I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important…”

“It’s… it’s okay,” B replied groggily, “what’s up?”

“I have a slight problem…” said A, “I’m uh… in a little bit of trouble-”

“Oh…? That doesn’t sound good.”

“No…” A sobbed, looking down at the blood beginning to seep through their shirt. “It’s really not.”

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Oh man oh man oh MAN this is good stuff!! Thoroughly enjoyed reading this and would definitely read more :’)

Writing Prompt #141

“So, this… ability of yours,” A cornered B in the alley, “what does it do?”

“I don’t know,” B backed up, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Everyone knows their own powers so don’t give me that.” A pushed B against a wall. “What is it?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” B tried to slip under A’s arm, but was shoved back with an angry glare, “It switches every day, so, I don’t know.”