Prompt Based Stories

I'm just a writer…

“When I die, don’t you dare come to my grave and tell me you love me,because those words were the only thing I would have needed to stay.”


Italics: Jayda

Normal: Derek 


“Don’t even try to lie anymore, Derek!”

“Baby, please, I’m sorry! It was a one time thing!”

“You know what? I don’t care! It was one time too many! How am I supposed to trust you anymore? It was one time too many!”

“Please… Jayda, I can’t live without you.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you pressed Angela up against a wall at the party!”

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so worked up about this!”

“Oh, you don’t understand? You don’t get it? How would you feel if I was drunk at a party so I pulled Antonio into the bathroom?”

“Jayda, you are overreacting! I kissed her once, and she started it!”

“You know, Derek, you were all I had left. My mom is a drug dealer, my dad killed himself, and I’m living with my schizophrenic grandmother!”

“Oh, and the sob story of your life!”

“I’m done with you! When I die, don’t you dare come to my grave and tell me you love me, because those words were the only thing I would have needed to stay!”

Jayda walked down the road towards her house, leaving Derek there, speechless.

“It may not be much, but it’s yours.”



Prompt from

“pa” Tony received on his phone. The text was from his girlfriend, Catherine, and it made his heart race. PA stood for Panic Attack, and it was not something Catherine sent lightly. He grabbed his coat and sprinted out the door and down the stairs of his apartment building, going straight to his car. He drove down the road at the maximum speed he could go without being reported, and prayed Catherine would be alright when he got there.


Catherine sat on the floor in her kitchen, hyperventilating. Her entire body ached and her vision blurredtears streaming down her cheeks. There was the sound of her front door closing and footsteps. She saw a person move into her kitchen, slightly panicked. “Catherine? Catherine…” He said, kneeling on the cold tile floor in front of her. “T-T-Tony…” Catherine sputtered through sobs. “Catherine, just listen to me. Listen to my voice, alright? That’s all you have to do right now.” Tony said, trying desperately to calm her down. “I… c-can’t… b-breathe…” Catherine told him, taking short, gasping breaths in between words. “I know, I know. I’m going to help you, alright? Just listen to me, babe. Just listen.” Tony told her, taking her hands. “C-can we… g-go to your… ap-p-partment? I d-don’t want to b-be here.” Catherine gasped out. Tony nodded, picking her up and carrying her out of the house.

Tony carried Catherine through the door of his apartment, setting her gently on the couch. Her breathing had slowed slightly, but her head still pounded and she couldn’t stand up. She rocked back and forth, bringing her knees to her chest and pressing her hands to her forehead. “Alright, Catherine, just listen now.” Tony told her. She nodded, breathing unsteadily. “Okay, baby, breathe. Breathe with me. Ready? In…” Tony instructed, inhaling deeply. “And out…” he exhaled. Catherine matched her breathing to his. It calmed her down, making her vision stop blurring, and her lightheadedness go away. She looked into Tony’s eyes, seeing the calm in his brown orbs. “What happened, Cath?” Tony asked. Catherine nodded, running a hand through her hair. “I d-don’t know. I heard… g-gunshots. Outside my house. I was scared. There was screaming.”

Tony looked at her, his eyes widening. “Gunshots? Did you call the police?” He asked. Catherine shook her head. “I got down as fast as I could. There were more shots and I didn’t know what to do, and I could only think about calling you. I was just r-really s-scared, and I-I… oh my God.” Tears filled her eyes again as she hugged Tony, burying her face into his jacket. “Hey, hey. You are safe now. You are here with me and I’ve got you.” Tony told her, running a hand over her hair and wrapping an arm around her upper back. She nodded, sobbing quietly. “You can stay here until it’s safe, okay? I’ll call the police and I’ll talk to them. You don’t have to.” He whispered, soothingly. Catherine nodded again, sobbing still. “Do you want to watch a movie? I just got some new ones.” Tony said. She pulled herself away from him and smiled slightly. “Do you have The Breakfast Club?” She asked. Tony nodded, smiling slightly.

“Hey, babe.” Tony said quietly, shaking Catherine lightly. Her eyes opened and focused on him. “Hmm…?” She asked, drowsily. “I called the police. They went and investigated and they, uh, found… a body… in your backyard. They found evidence and know it wasn’t you, but you can’t go back home for a while.” Tony told her. The breath caught in Catherine’s throat. “A-alright. How long is a while?” She asked. “A month maximum. I, uh, got something of yours, though. Just some stuff I thought you’d need.” Tony said, handing her a small cardboard box off the coffee table. “It may not be much, but it’s yours.” He said. Cameron looked in the box, seeing stuff from her bedroom. Her blanket, her pillow, her small turtle stuffed animal off her dresser. All of the stuff she loved. Catherine let out a sob. She dropped the box and hugged him abruptly. “I love you.” She whispered. Tony smiled, hugging back and whispered “I love you, too.”

“Silence, you uneducated peanut.”


Prompt by


“Cameron, what are you doing?” Martin asked as he walked into her apartment. Cameron paced in circles around her couch, muttering quietly to herself. “Thinking.” She responded, staring into the floor. “About what?” Martin asked, looking at her suspiciously as he moved farther into the room. “I’m a writer, babe. You know what I’m thinking about.” Cameron replied, running a hand through her pixie-cut hair as she continued pacing. “What is it this time? Plotline or character development?” Martin smirked. He loved it when she got like this. All of her creativity would stop for no particular reason and it was when she was at her best, and yet her worst at the same time. “Character development. I can’t figure out why Olivia fears dominant personality types.” Cameron explained. Martin nodded, sitting down on the couch. “A lot of people who fear dominant personalities have some history of abuse.” He suggested. “No, no. That would throw off the plotline of the fifth chapter.” Cameron stated. “Well, people tend to fear dominant personality types for multiple reasons, one of them being that people feel threatened when forced into a lower, almost omega type role in-”

Cameron cut him off. “Silence, you uneducated peanut.” She said, stopping and standing in the middle of the room. She muttered something incoherent to herself, and then sprinted into her office. Martin looked confused for a moment, echoing her words. “Uneducated peanut?” he said, quietly. There was the sound of violent typing, and Cameron muttering more. Martin walked into the room, leaning on the doorframe. “You know, last time I checked, I have more PHDs than you. In my humble opinion, you are the ‘uneducated peanut.'” He laughed. Cameron smiled, her computer screen glowing in the dark room. “Does it look like I’m counting your diplomas, babe? I’m doing something with my one, while you are just sitting on your three.” She replied, tauntingly. “Sitting on them? I’m an FBI analyst!” He told her, smiling. Cameron rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” Martin shook his head, sitting down. “So why exactly does Olivia fear dominant personality types?” he asked. Cameron turned in her swivel chair, propping her feet up on the short filing cabinet on the wall beside her desk. “I’ve got no idea, but I just started a new story line.” She answered.

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