Explore

@sainiku.northsky.social Oct 4, 2026, 6:06 AM

#SundaySnips

Well, that's not good...

(CW: Hallucination, blood, death)

#WritingCommunity #Writingprompts #Writesky #HQpress

It was eerie, like peering into a moment frozen in time. [Censored] had been there, and I could almost feel her presence. I knew to check in the bedrooms for the picture, so I walked over and opened one of the doors.

My eyes were immediately drawn to [Censored]’s corpse, slumped in the middle of the room, covered in blood. I saw it for only a brief moment, a blink and it was gone.

That… That wasn’t real, right?

My breath quickened and I grabbed at my head, as a subtle scent of blood emanated from the room. I frantically reached out and grabbed the door handle, slamming it shut before the smell could drown my thoughts.

“Woah, hey what’s wrong?” Nathan whispered.

“Not that room.” I focused on catching my breath. “I… Sorry, I thought I saw something…”

@bumblebigirl.bsky.social Oct 4, 2026, 5:44 AM

#SundaySnips "Eerie"

There's always a gap if you look for it

Men dressed in sharply angular black uniforms were moving out from between the towers, converging on them from all sides. They had an almost eerie purposefulness to them, movements aligned so perfectly it was like watching a dance, save for the bit at the end where they aimed their guns directly at Slip and Alison.
“They can’t kill you,” Alison muttered, half to herself. “They can’t shoot you, Slip! Just run for it!” And Slip did.
It would have seemed to an observer that there was no way past the surrounding phalanx, so tightly grouped and highly trained. Slip, though, knew a thousand tricks to get past someone who was in her way. Locked doors and walls could keep you in no problem, but people were a much simpler proposition, especially if you were small and could fit through gaps easily. They always left those and she could always spot where they were.
Better yet, the soldiers, so confident in their snare, simply didn’t process the reality of her whisping past them until a few seconds after it had happened, by which time it was too late. She aimed for an alleyway nearby. Every world had those and she knew them well. The soldiers’ spic and span appearance told her they never went beyond the prettier parts of this world. She could lose them there.

@karamoonauthor.com Oct 4, 2026, 5:23 AM

#SundaySnips "eerie"

from A Prayer for the Pirate Queen 🏴‍☠️ 💜 ⚓️ currently in third draft revisions

The nereid visitors, standing at the very edges of the ceremony, added their eerie voices in a final send off, singing a wordless dirge of their people as the winding sheets vanished under the darkening grey of the waves, and the last rays of the sun bled away from the horizon.

@bornangelauthor.bsky.social Oct 4, 2026, 5:10 AM

#SundaySnips here we have a paragraph from DIRGE OF THE BETRAYED, ANGEL OF WRATH book 2, which I’m focusing on writing this month.
#SpookySeason #WriteSky #October #WritingCommunity

JOIN THE FUN!

Snippet from Dirge of the Betrayed, Chapter Four.

"Your eyes are glowing," he whispered as if he were in a trance. I flipped down the visor and cursed. My eyes were indeed glowing with the fire of my Angeliki. What the hell was this? I blinked, and they were mortal green again. He shuddered and started the car. “That's ominously eerie."

@woodenvelt.bsky.social Oct 4, 2026, 5:01 AM

Welcome to #SundaySnips! A once-a-week prompt game for writers hosted by myself and @hookandquillpress.com

Spooky season is here! Share a snip featuring something eerie. (obligatory ghost noises) 👻 🎃 🪦

#WritingCommunity #Writingprompts #Writesky #HQpress

A graphic advertising the Sunday Snips hashtag, a weekly blue sky writing community tag. The word for October 4th is eerie. Share a snip from your WIP featuring the word of the week. Use #SundaySnips and don't forget to include alt text. Synonyms, vibes, and variations on the word are welcome! Hosted by woodenvelt.bsky.social and Hook and Quill Press. The background is a night time Halloween scene in a graveyard with gnarled trees, tombstones, a purple sky, and jack o lanterns. There is an image to the right of a yellow octopus stuffed animal wearing a witch’s hat and holding a broomstick.

@joharraharper.bsky.social Oct 3, 2026, 7:00 PM

From Violet Perez and the Assassin:

#WritingCommunity.
#SundaySnips.

@danigracewrites.bsky.social Oct 3, 2026, 6:04 PM

⬆️
#WritingPrompts 3

#ShakespeareSunday
#SundaySnips
#SenryuSunday*
#MythologyMonday
#CompleteTheHaiga
#BookishTues
#WriteStuff
#FromOneLine
#10WordTuesday*
#LegendaryWednesday
#Cassiopeian
#WyrdWednesday
#WednesdayWIPs
#Penstricken
#HorrorWritersChat
#30WordThursday

⬇️

@zbroger.bsky.social Sep 28, 2026, 12:20 AM

Ahh, Valentine's Day: The day when those who give anonymous gifts through a fundraiser are desperately trying to see if their crush got their gift and trying to convince themselves the crush didn't throw it in the trash.

#sundaysnips #writingcommunity #writesky #wmhst

Gordon's head finally popped up over the railing, and he appeared in the aisle after stomping up the stairs. His breathing was ragged, his cheeks redder than usual, and his winter coat unzipped. Snow flurries speckled his hair, and Paulie really wanted to brush them out.

“Cutting it rather close, arentcha?,” the bus driver asked.

Gordon mumbled something in return, which Paulie couldn't hear, then went searching for a seat. The boy frowned upon seeing his spot taken and moved further back with disdain written all over his face.

As he got closer, Paulie couldn't help but try and catch any glimpse of the rose on Gordon, but nothing. Maybe it was in his bag? Or did he leave it in his locker? Paulie gasped. What if he threw it away?

All of a sudden, spiraling thoughts of discontentment crept into him as Gordon sat down. Paulie turned his head away and peered out the window as the bus pulled out of the school grounds’ bus pickup area, watching a light snow fall and melt as soon as it hit the pavement.

(He wouldn’t do that, would he?)

— Wrangling My High School Tiger, chapter 4, Paulie's POV, draft 1
#SundaySnips Sept 27, 2026
social handles: (bsky) zbroger.bsky.social, (cara) zane

black text on a white lined piece of paper background with the word 'turn' highlighted twice in yellow.

to the right, a red drawing of a messenger bag with a single rose & paper sticking out of a pocket and a backpack with a cat plush keychain

@bethanylaurel.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 10:08 PM

Tempest’s landing beside Tharaiyelagh cast up a fresh cloud of dust. He grimaced and made a small gesture, turning his open palm downward, and the dust obediently lay flat, as though it had never stirred at all. Near Tharaiyelagh’s knees, Akieryon gasped and snatched his hands away.
#sundaysnips

@thecrumpet.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 10:05 PM

September 27 #SundaySnips: turn

EXTREMELY FRESH SNIP! Instead of, you know, doing the sensible thing and editing my #WIP, I decided to start another book, a sequel to the one I'm querying now. Great use of my time! In the book's opening paragraphs, Lainey grapples with the usefulness of going home.

Look, I know my Thomas Wolfe, blah blah blah, all that malarkey about how you can’t go home again. Not to the past you or your old loves or the hometown that swaddled you until you slithered out of its too-tight bounds for somewhere, anywhere else. I mean, Wolfe’s not wrong, and I should know better, but I’ve never let a little bit of knowledge hold me back from testing a hypothesis or two. After all, pretty little aphorisms sometimes are just that: pretty, and little, and incapable of capturing truths universal.

Turns out, some aphorisms are right. I never should have come back to Slaughters Falls, Vermont assuming I’d find my true self. While my formal mathematics education terminated with Algebra II, even I understand that You + Time = Not-You-Anymore.

@isaacxisaac.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 9:44 PM

I have a heck of a lot of "turn" in just 3.5 chapters of 1661 already, but I decided to offer one that has the sense of transformation over time for #SundaySnips!

This is Alexander's first meeting with his Destined Horse™️, who btw has a taste for flesh.

They are perfect for each other.

His first impression was that this Mistral wouldn’t pass for Pegasus by any means. Alexander’s eye had been taught to see beauty in the arched neck and muscular shoulders of a Spanish horse above all others’ and in a Friesian’s second. Here, whale-eyed and tossing his head, was a homely little pony of fourteen hands, almost mulish in aspect, with a Roman nose, square body, and skinny legs. He had been born bay with three white feet, but at just shy of four had nearly finished turning dappled-grey, giving him in April the colour of a rose rolled in the dirt.

@cassmorriswrites.com Sep 27, 2026, 7:51 PM

#SundaySnips Sept 27: This is a bit that's been reworked several times as the beginning of the manuscript has gotten adjusted, but I like these phrases so much that I've been determined to keep them.

As they approached the eastern gate, Lycus realized to his annoyance that he wasn’t just taking stock of his surroundings; he was looking for someone.
For her.
Maera Rhiann, the fierce and fascinating thorn in his side. She’d be here somewhere, and he had no doubt he’d see her sooner rather than later. Ever they fell into each others’ orbits, like the twin stars Belasa and Belisar, eternally turning around each other in the sky. No matter how close they dipped to the horizon, neither star ever fell beneath it, and while they moved apart at certain times of the year, always they returned to close proximity. So it had been with him and Rhiann, a connection too sharp to be serendipity.

@brambonius.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 6:57 PM

For the #SundaySnips

'Her focus just wouldn't turn on', or Pyra and her teacher, and the teaching methods of Ghost Town outlaws...

@amandabryana.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 5:22 PM

#SundaySnips

An early moment from Tim and Jon's relationship today. It normally takes Tim a lot longer than a few days to allow new people to see his art. It's a lot of vulnerability for him. But Jon isn't like most people, and Tim wants him to know him.

‘Baby, these are incredible. You’re very talented. So much detail and emotion. I’m afraid I don’t know anything about art, but I’m blown away. Do you really want to draw me?’

‘Yes. I haven’t done a lot of portraits, although a did a big charcoal one for my parents a couple of years ago, but I’d love to draw you.’

‘We’ll sort out a time and I’ll pose for you.’

‘That would be amazing. It would help if I could take pictures as well. Is that ok?’

‘Of course.’ He walked back over to me and kissed me. ‘You’re an extremely talented artist and I’m so happy you felt comfortable enough to share this with me.’

‘Thank you.’

Before I had chance to say anything else, Jon put his finger in a patch of charcoal dust on the desk and touched the end of my nose. The second I tried to retaliate my arms were behind my back and Jon had me pinned tight against his body. I struggled and laughed when I couldn’t move an inch.

‘Baby, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m ridiculously strong.’ He held his right arm up so he was just holding my wrists with his left. ‘Try again. I’ve given you a fighting chance. It’s my non-dominant hand.’

I wasn’t inclined to move, but I took the challenge and tried to get free. Nothing. All I ended up doing was wriggling against him, which was no bad thing at all. When I said, ‘I give up,’ Jon put his free hand on my butt and kissed me. As he pulled away he gently rubbed his nose against mine, transferring some of the charcoal.

‘Now we match.’

That was a loaded sentence, but I couldn’t say the things I wanted to. Instead, I kissed him. This time, when I stepped away, he let me.

‘Come on, let’s go and see what’s in my fridge that we can turn into dinner.’

@acturek.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 5:00 PM

Rush lets Drisal “in” on his secret, risk-free.
#SundaySnips #writingprompt #writingcommunity #fantasy

Shafted light tinted the old vellum gold, the
ink indigo. Mysterious creatures twined into one another, rooted together like a tree clan. And the writing itself, some queer hybrid of runes and script ... he could only blink at it. It hurt his eyes. "What is this?" He TURNED the scroll upside down. "I can't read
it." He squinted. He TURNED it sideways. "The letters are lovely, but the words ... they're gibberish."

Rushak chuckled. "That one is Ancient
Tellinaeic, I believe. They are all like that. If you want answers, you'll find none there."

Brother's Keeper by A.C. Turek

@midnightrose838.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 4:51 PM

#SundaySnips (sorry, sad again😭)

“Maybe.” Lawcket's shoulders gave a tiny shrug, his gaze falling to the ground. “I can't lie to you. I hope they won't want to kill me after I turn myself in and bring their horses back. But what matters most is to keep you guys out of what I've done.”

“And you're going to be killed?” Aisferk said, his voice coming out even, though he felt like his heart had stopped beating.
“Maybe.” Lawcket's shoulders gave a tiny shrug, his gaze falling to the ground. “I can't lie to you. I hope they won't want to kill me after I turn myself in and bring their horses back. But what matters most is to keep you guys out of what I've done.”
“You know it will hurt your mother what happens to you. You know this will break her heart,” Aisferk pleaded.
“Then please– go home and comfort her. Tell Mom that her happiness is my happiness, even if I'm dead, or a slave. I want my little sibling to get to be happy.” Lawcket bit his swollen lip, heavy tears stinging his dry eyes.
“I understand, but couldn't you come home and never show your face again?”
“And take the risk that they find us looking for me? You know how much that would frighten Mom. My best chance might be hoping they release me for turning myself in, since I never did anything other than offer my money and protect myself.
“Go back to Mom. She's worried she'll never see you again, and I don't want you seen with me.”

@maximejaz.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 4:05 PM

#SundaySnips
From my crime WIP.
A lush morning for Eric and Nate after a torrid night when things shifted again in their relationship.

Nate woke first, licking his parched lips, squinting at the light. His whole body ached, so he shifted to his side, bumping into Eric’s back, so his arm slid around him, to his abs, pulling him close to his body. A soft kiss on his neck, closing his eyes to his scent which he breathed in, deep. Feeling him stir, grab his hand, hold it tight against his body.
“Morning…”
“Might be midday…”
“It’s still morning…” He barely had a voice, but brought Nate’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. Smoothing his palm out, he kissed it. Soft licks.
Nate chuckled. “No, no… We have to get up…”
“Do we?” He turned into Nate’s arms, his green eyes wide, filled to the brim with a warm light. His lips parting. “Do we…?”
Nate pulled him into a wide kiss, his hands sliding to his back, spread on that smooth skin. Gliding his palms up and down, feeling him breathe harder in that kiss. Shocked, that he wanted more. That he wanted never to get out of that bed flooded with sun.

@juliesondra.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 3:52 PM

The girls are fightinggggg
#SundaySnips #WritingCommunity #Writingprompts #Writesky

“Now you’ll each spar with a partner,” the instructor announced as the drills wrapped. “This will be graded. Don’t worry if you lose. You’ll have plenty of chances to move up. Choose your partners now.”
Minnie let out her breath and turned to Amber. “You should fight me.”
Amber leaned on her staff, her little brown eyes wide. “Excuse me what?”
“I can’t beat anyone in here,” Minnie said quietly. “You at least probably won’t hurt me.”
“I can’t hit you with this,” Amber said, her already-high voice rising.
“I’m not a child, you know.” Minnie met her eyes. “I have to fight someone. You can make this easy.”
Amber’s tanned cheeks blushed in protest, but she held it in and nodded. Why was she taking this worse than Minnie was? She wasn’t the one about to get trounced in front of two dozen people.
Standing together, they waited to be called. Two teams carried out their matches before their turn. The first pair’s fight was over quickly; a much bigger man had an average-sized woman on the floor in just over a minute. The second fight went on a while between two people who had clearly fought with sticks before. It was actually exciting to watch. The slightly larger of the pair went down to a small cheer from the waiting group. The losers had to sit separately from the winners.

Then Amber and Minnie entered the circle. They stood in the opening stance they’d just been taught, and at the signal, they moved toward one another.
To her credit, Amber made it look like a serious match. She crouched down to be closer to Minnie’s reach so they could at least hit their sticks together once. She realized at the impact of the other girl’s staff on hers that Amber was just too much stronger—she had no hope of shoving her back. She felt the reverberation of that hit on her stick all the way up into her shoulders. But despite the huge difference in strength, she had noticed that Amber was on the clumsy side; she had been demonstrating lack of coordination during her drills. Her balance wasn’t great and her movements were loose. Minnie saw an opening—maybe she could strike her heel and upset her equilibrium? Could she actually win a match?
She moved to try it, but the too-long stick was heavy in her hand and didn’t move fast enough. Amber brought the back end of her stick around her body and gently tapped Minnie’s ribs under her leading arm. Down she went. Her knees hit the dust.
The practice area’s floor was not hard but the shock of it still temporarily paralyzed her. She was not used to any kind of pain and her whole body filled with a confused fuzz. Amber wasn’t super fast but she was fast enough. Before Minnie could react, the other girl’s hand had pinned her shoulder to the ground, and the staff was pointed at her chest. She surrendered.

@scarletvmitchell.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 2:34 PM

#SundaySnips

I lied!
I have been saying Steady doesn’t know how to swim in these character games, but forgot there‘s a whole thematic point that relies on her experience learning to swim! (Its been forever since I drafted TugboatWIP!)

Anyhow, here is Steady passing on wisdom to her young partner.

I dropped away from the hull of the ugly freighter, glad that it, and I, were still in one piece. It’s own full-sized thrusters expertly brought it into a steady trajectory as I watched my companion turn back towards the station.
"Oh no you don't, Buchannan. Get back here. I said stay in range."
"What?" He asked, nervously. His can fired another reverse MT and he somersaulted backwards once before steadying himself.
"We get right back in the river. One bad run doesn't give us a break. You did fine. Hold position."
"Uh... right. Yeah." I could hear his shaking voice. If I let myself think about it, I would start shaking, too, but the kid needed me to keep him steady.
"Red team to Dock. Ready for inbound." There was a pause. Had I caught Ungai unprepared?
"My Dad always told me you gotta get right back in the river. If we were swimming and caught a mouthful of water or got caught in the current and had a scare, he'd never let me sit on the beach for long, or pack it in. Said I had to get back in the water or I'd never swim again. Said if I waited too long, I'd get it in my head that I couldn't anymore. Can't let a little fear get the better of you."
"I'm not scared... just... a bit startled."
"That's fear, kid," I chuckled, "Nothing to be ashamed of. Fear keeps people from throwing themselves out an airlock without double-checking their suits are on straight. You just have to..."
"Inbound Polaris The Bostonian," Ungai interrupted my lecturing with coordinates for a load.
"You just have to remind yourself that you know how to handle things, you know?"

@woodenvelt.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 2:15 PM

Wren is not great with new people.

From book 2 of my romantic fantasy series about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold.

#SundaySnips #WritingCommunity #Writingprompts #Wrencer

“Wren, there’s something you should know–” Spencer’s eyes, the same slate gray as the swirling river water, flicked towards the travelers milling near the rest stop privies. “About the man in the coach.”

“Who? Captain floofy sleeves?” There were only two men sharing the carriage with them and Wren doubted Spencer was fretting over the mild mannered painter who could barely look her in the eye. “He’s a lech, but I handled it. If anyone asks, Molly and I have been madly in love for six months as of last Primaday.”

Wren tossed the words casually at the sergeant, a test to see if she’d back the cover story or balk at the lie. But Molly just grinned, mischief dancing brightly in her wheat-brown eyes. “Might come as a bit of a shock to my Fred, but I suppose what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Irritation prickled under Wren’s skin, but she bricked over the feeling with a placid smile. Sooner or later the woman would give her a reason not to like her. Everyone did, eventually. Well, everyone but Spencer. And Bruce was alright, she supposed. Elton was a good lad, too, if she were counting people who didn’t irritate her with their mere presence.

I am turning into an insufferable sop.