Give me a prompt!

Hello all! I figured that this writing section could use a little something to help people grow as writers, and I thought "What about a prompt request thread?" This thread is just that, where you can suggest prompts for other members to write about. Then you could post it, in here or in a separate topic (depending on the length and whether or not it'd continue) for criticism. Next time you write a prompt, you can focus on fixing issues from the last one.

I will be cataloging prompt suggestions in this post. Each prompt will be available in the OP for a month from the time I update, and then I will remove it from the list (unless otherwise requested or if there haven't been a whole lot of prompt suggestions). Outdated prompts will be indicated by a struck through title

SFW Prompts:

You Will Regret Seeing It (April 3rd, 2014 by Hive-san)

Breakfast (May 13th, 2014 by xninebreaker)



Let's Get Married! (June 9th, 2014 by high_time)



Insanity (July 3rd, 2014 by Shikinokami)



It was a dark and stormy night... (July 6th, 2014, by Aisuru)



NSFW Prompts:
None yet!

Sounds fairly interesting, but just for some clarity, could you provide an example prompt? Only thing that pops into my mind when I read prompts are academic literature ones.

Oh, pfft, it doesn't have to be THAT complex! A prompt is literally just something to write about. Whether it's just a story involving a forest, or a story about lesbian vampires, or something as specific as two characters from an existing franchise. Literally anything. Also, I'd probably have to make two separate lists for SFW and NSFW prompts, just out of courtesy for people who don't like to write NSFW stuff.

Is this thread gonna be active? Might as well just post something. Let's kick it off!



Write this scene and anything else that comes after.
1. Recommended genres to use: Thriller, Sci-fi, Horror, fantasy.
2. Clarify the contents of the package.
3. Who, or what, the hell is the client?
4. Use 500+ words, please

Thanks for the prompt! I've added it to the OP, hopefully people will write for it~ it seems pretty interesting! there's a lot of potential in it. :3

I'm looking to add a prompt soon, so let's hope this thread kicks off. I enjoy the idea of the thread. Good writing exercises, especially for those that are stuck or can't seem to come up with something to write about.

And yeah! Add when the prompt was added and who added it too in the list!

Sure thing, that's a good idea. I'll do that.

Before I begin, I have to apologise. I understand myself to be reluctant to follow rules and I hope you would allow me to write something relevant to the prompt below even though I would not follow the requirements to the letter.



The outsider would deem any trade, notwithstanding how mundane it might seem to be, as strange and exotic, him not knowing its ways and its secrets. So, whenever the two brothers told anyone of their trade and profession and the organisation they worked for, the response would be, "What a strange organisation!" The brothers' response to that response would be a lack of a response, so taken aback by the response of the person or persons they divulged their livelihood to.

The reader, who so unfortunately spent his or her time on reading the previous paragraph, might be interested to know what the brothers do for a living nonetheless. It is indeed mundane and not noteworthy. As the brothers describe it, it involves the movement of objects big or small, short or tall all around a sphere of rock embellished with a film of water thousands of miles in diameter. Devices used to house those objects vary from small paper envelopes to the occasional steel enclosures (if the cash flow is good and the company is in good condition)

What a strange job! Indeed anyone could have said that if he or she decided to describe working at a delivery company like that!

However, it turns out that at the point where our story begins, the cash flow is not good and the company is not good condition and a cost cutting regime is implemented in the company the brothers work for. This meant that they were assigned to more tasks whilst drawing an even lower salary than before! One of these tasks is to deliver parcels within a 5 mile radius of their office after an eight to four work day by the desk.

Tough times but the brothers (and partners) knew that when the going gets tough, the tough gets going. Notwithstanding how uneconomical and stupid this arrangement was, they toiled day and night delivering parcels and watching their desks. That was until a strange parcel arrived for the brothers to deliver.

It was strange because it looked strange, it felt strange, the contents in it were strange, the sender was strange and the receiver was strange. The parcel contained the strangest of things to be ever placed in a parcel, something that is known by the layman as nothing. The sender was strange because it had the same name as the receiver. Stranger still was the strange way the strange parcel was strange looking! Strangely enough, the brothers decided to deliver the strange parcel anyway, so conditioned to their work that their minds work strangely!

As the sun set and the poorly maintained streetlights begun to flicker on and off, the brothers made their way to where the addressee of the parcel lived. They knocked on the door announced their presence only to find that the addressee was someone they did not quite expect.



Why did their mother send an empty parcel to herself? The brothers did not understand at first. When they saw the expression on their mother's face, they knew. How unfilial they were trying to eke a living and leaving their mother in the lurch! Their mother, who wanted nothing else but to see them again decided to send an empty parcel to herself in the hope that her sons would deliver for her! (Putting aside the fact that she did not know for sure who would be delivering the parcel to her and the fact that she should be fully aware of the brother's situation at work which is rather implausible.) What was delivered to her was not the empty parcel but the brothers, her sons, whom she so loved!

Just in case the reader is expecting a mushy ending, he or she might be relieved to know that the mother was so happy to see her children that she died on the spot. The brothers found out that she had left them a huge inheritance meaning that they needn't work a day for the rest of their lives. Happy endings for all!

The powerful message behind this tale is, "Be a filial child. Being filial means that your parents will leave you a large inheritance when they die so that you needn't work a day for the rest of your lives!" This is what every mortal being who has not have their parents dead should bear in mind!

^
that was fucking brilliant.

I really enjoyed some bits of it.

If I were to word the prompt, it would turn out like this, rather very uncreative so to speak.

I work in a particularly strange organization. One day, I, along with my newly reproduced clone (having my full memories and expertise installed) were asked by my superiors to deliver a package to one of their clients. I agreed to do it, reluctantly, along with my twin brother. On my way towards the client's house, my twin brother expressed his suspicion about the contents.

As both of us are not errand boys, but instead gives the usual blow jobs at desks. Well you know it's his first day giving various blowjobs but hey he's my clone and he inherit my memories. We've seen something strange inside but still decides to finish the job. Here's the contents of the box, which is a note. Both of us read it aloud in the middle of the street.

"I want to write folk tales, I really do. For the practice, let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time, there lived an old farmer with three servants. Their names : A, B, C. From the oldest to youngest. All three were sodomized by an elephant; got their assholes ruptured so much you could shove a pineapple tree just fine. One day, their master got afflicted with a venereal disease after having sexual intercourse with a giant cockroach.

He laid there so weak and pale in his bed, with his servants busy watching a silly porno. The film depicts the scene where two muscular werewolves had intercourse by stabbing each other with giant lightsaber. Both of them ejaculated so hard their genitals explode and they died in the most powerful orgasm possible, end of story. The entire time the farmer got stimulated, eleven dicks started to grow from his genitals. Yes he got his fly hung open and the boys were quite amused by the sight; seeing the little dicks moved back and forth like each had a mind of its own – the mind of a dick.

His servants continue on laughing like a ballerina on krack until one moment, one of these dicks spoke in fluent gibberish. They couldn't make what the dick was saying, but since the dick was just being a dick, they decided to put a condom on the dick and watch the genitalia explode as it says 'cowabunga' as one of the boys interpreted. It was followed by the massive explosion of ten other dicks which caused various tremors all over the place.

The farmer grimaced in pain as various holes started forming all over his genitals. In the end he knew that he's just about to die.

.....so he flipped the scenery with his hands just like turning a page and be reborn as a young man again. This time, he'll make different choices in life for something better.

The farmer lived happily ever after....in heaven.

The day after he became a young man again, his dick exploded and the shock was too much that it caused him to instantly die.

So it goes."

We were aroused like hell as we read on and on. Don't worry, the package was mainly dedicated to ourselves, so it's safe to tear it apart. I still dunno who the sender is until we've reached home and my twin brother gave me a french kiss. He said he loved me very much and we had sex together until both of us turned into hermaphrodites. It was the first time I felt something much more powerful than prostate masturbation.

The rest of the story goes to show our daily lives quitting job and happily living the life as hermaphrodites. How do we make a living, you ask? I dunno, but we're simply being a lab specimen living a lavish life without worries. All that is well which ends well.

Sorry for the very late reply. Glad to know that both of us responded to the prompt by writing in the styles we prefer the most.

Why would you set up for a nice sappy ending and chuck it away!? Such cruelty. However, emotional twist combined with the exceptionally untimely death very much like you to come up with. At least there's a moral to the story. I can appreciate that.

Also, the extensive use of 'strange' in that one paragraph was certainly interesting. I think if you took out the sentence about the parcel itself looking strange, all of the 'strange' would have more impact. Something like finding the sweet spot for emphasis and repetition, which I would say even applies to this piece of work!



Once again my stomach could not handle your writing. Ughhhh I feel the pain just skimming through! Impressive... in it's own way...

---

Aside from commentary, I also come with a prompt of my own!



With a jolt and a gasp for breath, you wake up. The first thing you do is look at the clock that displays that it is 7AM and the date. However, you stare in disbelief as you murmur to yourself the impossibility of the date on display. You switch on the T.V. and simultaneously grab your phone. All sources indicate that the date is correct. Your body tenses up and you can feel the sweat starting to accumulate. After a minute of taking in the situation, you exhale heavily and resolve yourself. You have only one destiny, one mission, one duty: you must make breakfast.

Criteria for the prompt:
1. You must explain why the date is important.
2. You must explain why you must make breakfast.

That is all! Have fun!

tried my hands on it

===

Journal Entry - Fucking Breakfast:

Today is May 15th. Why is it important? Because I need to try cooking breakfast for the first time in like eons ago. I have been procrastinating it for quite a while since there's food deliveries, eating out and such, that tastes much better than what I could possibly cook.

Not to mention, the trouble of putting stuff on frying pan, adding some oil, lightning up the stove, in addition of getting the rice itself, which involves a lot of trouble going all the way down my place which located in a 6th floor at a 10 floor building, in addition of walking way past few blocks until there's a shop which sells rice for quite cheap price - regardless of all the trouble going through, just for cooking up frozen food : a plain ol' chicken nugget on top of that?

You might think for one moment that I'm plain insane. Not really. I'm just doing things for a change. You know the food tastes the best when you cook it up yourself. Though it's actually not quite correct. I cooked the food too long because I was busy thinking and now its burnt.

Yay, I'm eating a food fiasco. I should really celebrate.

-

note : the protagonist is too lazy to cook his own rice.

I had fun writing it xnine. Here is my contribution:

The following chronicles the brief moments of a metropolitan resident after he awakes from his slumber. He is in incredibly trying circumstances living in the discomfort of a spacious apartment well supplied with water and electricity, having to deal with the drudgery of having to exchange his labour for a pittance of a few thousand dollars a month and having to ingest very unpalatable meals that rich in carbohydrates, protein, vitamins and washed down with the occasional glass of wine or the more frequent soft beverage.

Many a person would sympathise with his plight. After all, he, like any other human being, deserves better. He ought to enjoy the freedom of not living with a roof over his head, feeling the sensation of the scorching sun on his sunburn-susceptible skin, relishing the deluge of torrential rain drenching every inch of his body and indulging in the bone chilling strong winds that accompany it. He ought to be experiencing the pleasure of subsistence farming and living from hand to mouth. After all it is leisurely work with no deadlines and no chains of command, just the niggling fear of suffering a poor harvest. He would do better living off the ground and eating organic meals once every three days. He would stand to lose weight and that would be a boon to any soul burdened by the excesses of city living.

The first waking moments were extremely unpleasant for our protagonist. Instead of groggily ambling out of the bed, he jolted up as if he had been assaulted in a rather sensitive region of the human body located between the thighs and the end of the torso and had expelled air from the cavities in his thorax in a very unnatural manner more commonly known as †˜gasping’.

For some bizarre reason, he performed upon setting his eyes on a device that displays both time and date, otherwise known as a digital clock, he appeared to unable to form coherent words with his mouth.

He then exhibited near-impossible movement by switching on the television and grabbing his mobile device at the same time. How he was able to contort his body to do so would be a mystery worthy of an urban myth. It might be the case of a malady blighting his mind that resulted in him behaving thus. To make matters worse, his body became tense and it appeared for a moment that he was suffering from a spasm.

In summary, what he was suffering from is indeed symptomatic of ailments that plague many a city-dweller. The horrible lifestyle of three square meals a day and having a decent, well-paying job had taken a toll on this poor man’s health and was threatening to take his insanity as well.

The digital clock displayed a time (7am) and a date (30th February) or so that was what his eyes saw. We could surmise that his thoughts now turned to making breakfast even though it is rather early in the morning and he could not be late at work and that date could not possibly exist! The reader at that juncture could inquire, “Why was the date important? Why he wants to make breakfast?”

I would have to tell him in the manner of the great Elizabeth the First of England not to make windows into people’s souls, especially that of diabetic and hypertension-afflicted madmen.

I would also chide him for asking why breakfast was needed to be made. Perhaps the reader should be rewarded with the freedom of not having a roof over his or her head, getting deluged by torrential rain, be subjected to bone chilling winds, engaging in liberating subsistence farming and having meals once in three days like billions of people around the world. Then he would appreciate the need for making breakfast!


[size=6]Have I wasted your time writing pointless padding about waking up and preparing breakfast just to exceed the 500 word floor?[/h]

in short, one should make breakfast in order to appreciate the true nature of the others who couldn't ever live in luxury of eating three times a day :D

that was pretty insightful.

@Leo:
Bolded the parts I liked.

OT:




A man woke up from a nightmare where the love of his life left him. Perhaps the nightmare wouldn't have felt so strong if the woman he loved was in his bed that morning, but today she was gone. It was his girl's birthday, one of the few occasions in the year where one can buy your special other without the afterwards regret, like masturbating without the guilty feeling at the end plus the fact that your sorry ass now has a chance of getting laid. Anyway, in the tired city of Houston, where there was little to see and much less things to do apart from giving money to churches (not the shitty fast food you derive nutrients from) with little boys in black uniforms (with trap butts) inside, visiting low-tier hooter bars with saggy tittied muffin-topped women, and stripper clubs. If white trailer trash hookers is your thing, then this city is for you. But this isn't a tour guide for that damned city I once lived as a child, but about two siblings, Billy and Tam. Somewhat as you'd expect in your stories nowadays, they were incestuous, but in a sick way, unlike the mangas you read which are sick anyhow.

Inside a small two-floor home in a suburb with an unkempt garden, lived Billy and Tam. Both had been curious in their teens and somehow, they managed to overcome the horrid feeling of embarrassment and fucked consensually. After some months of rutting like dogs, they decided to consider theirs a permanent relationship, as they had both given up on the impossible search for perfect love. However, back to the room again, he realized he had forgotten to buy her a gift for her birthday, and to make it worse he hadn't woke up early to make her a meal. Putting on his semen-stained briefs while tumbling along the hall, he struggled to reach the kitchen phone to ask her where she was.

One ring, two rings, three, four, five, six, voice mail. He panicked, it was his first time to show off to her and he missed it. His eyes watered and he started biting his fingernails. He would have no more hot sweaty confederate and union roleplay sex if he couldn't impress her with a good meal, but he never learned how to cook! He was so distraught mixing egg, flour, pouring juice in cups, and generally charring every meal he made to notice she had just entered through the door, just staring at him.

"Tam, my big baby gi-"
"Hahaha! Billy you're so cute!", cried Tam and she hugged Billy with her thick sweaty arms with fine un-shaved hairs.

His face was buried between her saggy breasts and pot belly, he raised it to see his taller older sisters beaming face and french kissed with a taste of Churches fried chicken. Confederate-on-union-prisoner-sex tonight was confirmed in those glistening eyes and spicy chicken saliva.

Don't read too much into it, high. I was trying to stick with the requirements of xnine's prompt and hit the 500 word floor whilst doing that. I notice quite a lot of errors in my original post, going to correct that...

You've mentioned something about writing a love letter sometime ago. Do you want to word a prompt for it asking anyone who would bother to read this thread to come up with a love letter?

I sill enjoyed it though.

i didn't read anything about it must having about 500 words or so? in the previous prompt, yes.

I'm talking about writing a marriage proposal in the most corny ways possible. maybe absurd, or even satirical =D

mostly an optional prompt like the others.

here it is.



For some people, marriage is a blessing. For someone else, it's a disaster. Imagine yourself getting married to someone of your own choice. It depends on your fetish, preference, and sexuality. It can be a woman, man, or even animals, plants, corpses, anime characters, mathematical equations, nuclear reactors, or even complex numbers like the square root of minus one.

Now, try writing a marriage proposal in the corniest way possible. Plus points if you tried marrying someone you don't like or you simply don't want to marry but you're being forced to based on many circumstances (you can state why). The main point of this prompt is to try making fun of marriages.

Or, if you like systematic points:

1. Write a marriage proposal to someone. Either you like them or not. It can be as short or as long as you want. No word quota.

2. Try writing it in the corniest way possible, or simply try making fun it.

3. Well, just write whatever you like anyways.

4. You don't really have to explicitly state who you're marrying. A really vague description can do.

5. That's all.

Have fun.

Leonard told me about this, so I thought I'd write a quick reply to Let's get married. It's a quick 798 word long (Title included) story based off of my actual relationship: Enjoy!

Let’s get married!

daym, reading this made me hnnngggg midway I must compose myself before continue reading on.

nice job tho =D