Round 12 - Submissions Closed!
Submissions for Round 12 of Prompt Service are now closed! Thanks again to everyone who participated!
I'd rather be in outer space đž
No title available
DEAR READER

izzy's playlists!
will byers stan first human second

Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

tannertan36
d e v o n
taylor price
wallacepolsom
art blog(derogatory)
YOU ARE THE REASON

shark vs the universe

romaâ
todays bird
AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER

seen from Germany

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seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Pakistan

seen from United States
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@promptservice
Round 12 - Submissions Closed!
Submissions for Round 12 of Prompt Service are now closed! Thanks again to everyone who participated!
Prompt #12 - Submissions due tomorrow, 1/31
Reminder to everyone - submissions for ROund #12 of Prompt Service are due tomorrow, 1/31, by 6pm EST!
Prompt Service: Round 12 - Due 1/31/15
Hello again everyone! Here are the prompts for Prompt Service Round 12. As always, please submit a 500-1000 word story based on one of the prompts below.
1)Addiction
2)Cosmic Reboot
3)Burning Justice!
Beginnings and Endings (Round 11, Prompt 1 of 1)
So, the New Year is here at last. Itâs that time of year when many people plan to put aside the vices of the past and seek to start anew. New Yearâs resolutions, they call them. I wonder how well they work?
This is the year that I am without my beloved pet. What a sweet little thing she was, my precious little ferret. Even as she grew older and less mobile, she still had her own ways of making me smile. Her passing last autumn shattered my heart, but she would not want me to cry for ever. Sometimes I feel her presence around the house, following me around even though I cannot see her.
But the heart is not meant to bleed forever. It is meant to heal and move on. The pain never completely goes away, but one grows stronger for having suffered it. Ask not what could have been done, but what can be done in the times yet to come. The past cannot be changed, but that is not to mean that the future can not be molded.
This is the year that will focus on quieter activities. The world at large is all the rage in regards to socializing and being with the crowd. What is the shame of solitude and its merits? There are writers, students, and miscellaneous contemplators, all striving for that goal only achieved in the silence and solitude. There is a greater world within the self as opposed to the outer part.
The New Year will be the year of the cleansing. Children often bemoan the chore of having to clean their rooms. But oneâs physical living quarters are not the only places in need of tidying up now and again. The mind, the vast library collection of all things learned and experienced, needs an update as well. Do you cling to false logic? What trials were conducted, but failed? What information got gleaned from this book or that person?
The heart needs to be cleaned as well. It does the physical body no good to ache from old wounds, nor does it do the mind much better. No, some wounds do not heal, and some will persist to bleed for a long time yet, but for those emotional injuries that have healed, it is time to take the rhetorical bandage off.
But there is still more to the beginning of the year besides putting issues of the past behind oneself. Looking forward, with a fresh self, makes room for new growth and experience. Have I become good at crochet craft? Perhaps it would do me some good to attempt a new form of project with the skills acquired from older ones. I have little knowledge in regards to skills needed for a potential future job; how can I go about attaining more?
The New Year is not only about beginnings, but about endings as well. It is a well known expression that when one door of life shuts, another opens. What doors have I shut? What doors shall I open and explore this year?
Hello everyone.
I apologize for being a terrible admin of late. I've had a lot going on in my life, including a new job that I'm getting ready for.
But that's no excuse to slack off on my duties here! So I will try and be more prompt (heh) in the future!
We had one submission for round 11 which will go up momentarily. Then tomorrow will have Round 12's prompts per the usual schedule.
Round 11 - Submissions closed!
Submissions for Round 11 of Prompt Service are now closed! Thank you everyone!
Round 11 - Due tomorrow, 1/17!
Just a friendly reminder that submissions for Round 11 of Prompt Service are due tomorrow, 1/17, by 6pm EST.
Prompt Service: Round 11 Prompts - Due Saturday 1/17
Hello all, and welcome back to Prompt Service. Please choose one of the three prompts below. As always, submissions should be 500-1000 words.
Prompt: The Last Family Gathering! Prompt: First people to set foot on a new land.
Prompt: A new beginning
Sorry for the delay everyone - and thank you to @ununnilium for pointing out that the current post wasn't up. I seem to have problems with trying to schedule things in advance and getting the times wrong.
Nevertheless! The winner of round 10 of Prompt Service is "Yuletide Blot" by orvillegoggles! Congratulations and thank you for participating!
New prompts will be up tomorrow with an extended deadline to make up for my failure.
EDIT: No, I was right the first time. At least partially. Per the first-and-third Wednesdays schedule, the next prompts will go up 1/7. I'm not completely crazy.
Round 10 - Voting Open!
That's all the submissions for Round #10. Please send in your votes/any feedback for the authors by Tuesday, 12/30, at 6pm EST. Thanks!
Yuletide Blot (Prompt #10, 3 of 3)
âLayton!â Orville called, thundering down the stairs, âCan I ask something super important of you?â
âOf course my boy, what is it?â He replied, grabbing firm hold of the younger manâs shoulders.
âSo the Solstice is tomorrow, right. And I would really care to have BlĂłt that evening.â Orville babbled, not exactly making eye contact.
âBlĂłt?â Layton asked, rather befuddled.
Orville paused a moment, thoughts flashing back to all the other times he had explained this and how so many of them ended poorly. He hesitated about telling him and thought a moment about just blowing it off as nothing. But he figured he should just push through this if he ever really wanted to be close with his new boyfriend.
âYeah, BlĂłt is the name for worship in my religion, I mean, Iâm an ĂsatrĂșar you see, and BlĂłt is the ritual sharing of food and mead with the gods.â Orville rubbed the back of his neck, not entirely knowing what kind of response to expect from his partner, âAnd I was kinda wondering if you could maybe get me a bit of mead for said worship, I mean, it is part of the celebration of Yule and itâs a really important thing to me and itâs technically legal for minors to have alcohol in small amounts for religious purposes, I mean, the Catholics do it every weekâŠâ
Layton reached up and stroked Orvilleâs hair, âCalm down, youâre talking in circles.â He spoke softly, with a smile, âOf course I can get you mead for your BlĂłt.â He stroked down his arms and grabbed his hands, âActually, would you mind if I were to join you in this practice?â
Orvilleâs eyes lit up with astonishment, somebody actually taking his religion seriously and wanting to participate in the practice to an extent? He was amazed, so many times he had received anything from totally apathetic replies, to downright hateful and aggressive ones.
He hadnât ever really had a good, proper celebration of Yule since finding personal enlightenment in ĂsatrĂș. Between his conservative Christian parents flipping out when they found out he didnât follow Jesus, to asshole Atheist roommates who belittled him for even having a religion, it just had not been a good show. Orville really hoped that what he was hearing was true and that Mister Hartwell really was going to join him in BlĂłt and be completely respectful of his practices and beliefs.
âUh, of course!â he stuttered, still surprised by his loverâs reaction to all of this.
Layton smiled at him and boomed, âGood show!â clapping the younger man on the shoulders, âIâll go ask Tim if he has any in the kitchen, if not Iâll head down to the speakeasy to see if Iâve any in my private supply.â
Orville babbled incoherently a moment as he watched Mister Hartwell strut off towards the kitchen. He still just could not believe it. Not only is he going to get the proper things to BlĂłt with, heâs going to have somebody to share BlĂłt with. A truly joyous Yule indeed he thought as he went off to build a Yule log for the BlĂłt.
My Modern Christmas (Prompt #10, 2 of 3)
My modern Christmas probably isnât what most people picture Christmas to be. When we think of that wintery holiday, we envision families getting together and opening presents while the snow falls blissfully outside. After all the gifts are opened and the family members that gave them have been thanked, itâs time for food.
BwahahahaâŠ. Yeah, rightâŠ
My Christmas morning starts with the alarm clock sounding off at seven thirty in the morning. I drag myself out of bed and pile on my monkey shirt work uniform before moving downstairs. Organic coffee is loaded into the Keurig and the brew button is pressed. While that is going on, my bleary eyes are rubbed in the hope that they can see if there is anything I want to eat in the refrigerator. Oh good, thereâs a few apples and some almond butter to slather on them!
Breakfast is had, coffee is drunk, and the car is warmed up. Off to work I go! Yes, unlike every other sensible and somewhat respectable business, my place of work is open on Christmas day. Oh, but they are apparently a little more lenient on Christmasâwe open at eight in the morning instead of the butt crack of dawn. How nice of them.
The first customer of the day has probably been banging on the windows to get in since five A.M. When the doors are finally unlocked and he is permitted to come in, his first order of business is of utmost importanceâSCRATCH TICKETS! And boy, oh boy, did he want them badly! He needed them so badly that he blew nearly three hundred dollars on them. Yes, you read that right. He probably just did all of his Christmas shopping for the year in a single go.
Instead of staying in their nice warm homes and sleeping in before opening gifts, more people begin to crawl into the establishment. Most are seeking the American morning ritualâcoffee. Itâs free for all for the entirety of the day, so why should they only take one? I watch with half-conscious amusement as they pile their brewed concoctions onto the trays and scuttle out the door with them.
Just as more daylight begins to peek over the horizon, more patrons awake and realize they have forgotten to purchase the culinary necessities they needed for today. No sensible supermarket is open, right? Oh, they cry in wonder, that little convenience store is open today! They MUST have what we need. What? No cookie dough? Why in the world would they not carry pineapple juice? How are we ever going to light our faulty stove without a stove lighter? Are you certain that you donât have anymore cocktail sauce stored somewhere in your backroom?
The work day persists on, and given that we are the only establishment open when all the others are closed, we are stampeded by round after round of customers, all seeking the same things. I was scheduled for six hours, but the shift seems to go on forever. In the middle of a huge rush, I run out of change; most of the patrons have been paying in twenties and, sometimes, in larger bills. I reach into the safe, only to discover there are only twenties in there as well. I holler desperately for the assistant manager, but he, conveniently, is taking a pissâŠ
But the shift inevitably ends, and I am free to enjoy the remainder of the holiday. The family is gathered at my auntâs house. It has been a tradition for many years to meet up there. My younger cousins have grown up, and some of them are even married. I am the introvert in my family of extroverts, and even though they are family, I loathe being amidst them.
It isnât that they are unkind. It is that they are Portuguese, and if I have learned anything about being in a Portuguese family, it is that everyone is in everyone elseâs business. Also, if they do not know your business, they will make every effort to get into it! I used to rely upon the kiddie table, which is situated away from the main table, so that I could have a bite to eat, but have an easy escape if I needed one. Now, instead of bending over their smartphones, my cousins actually TALK to me. Sounds like the normal and right thing to do, doesnât it? IT TERRIFIES ME! I canât wait for the conversation to come to an end, or perhaps get interrupted by someone else.
At long last, they look away. While they are thinking of something else to gossip about, I slip away to the living room. The only individuals there are my father and an uncle, both fast asleep in front of the television. This is perfect! I can have peace at last, or so I think.
My aunt calls from the next room. Itâs time for gifts, but the price of each one is a kiss on her cheek as another aunt takes a photo on her smartphone. The crowd is gathered, but I keep to the back. The less attention I garner, the better. I half pray that there is no gift for me, that among the throngs of relatives, I will have been forgotten.
My name is called.
Wearily, with a false smile on my face, I make my way to where my aunt proclaims that âMrs. Claus gets a kiss first.â The aunt that is taking photos fumbles with the smartphone camera. I pay my due, receive my gift, and then slip away as quickly as I can without seeming ungrateful. No picture was taken. Thank GodâŠ
Klozum (Prompt #10, 1 of 3)
The small Dutch island of Schiermonnikoog didnât get many tourists during the winter, and even less who wanted to stay the night. But it seemed like the isolated isle agreed with the young man, and the family who ran the bed-and-breakfast certainly werenât going to turn down the extra revenue - especially just a few weeks before Christmas.
When theyâd mentioned Klozum to him, he was a little skittish at the idea of leaving the door of the building open; but they assured him the klozums were all part of a quaint holiday tradition. (âQuaintâ was a good word for calming tourists down.) Still a bit nervous, he joined them in the sitting room, waiting for the big show.
At eight-thirty, there was a knock on the open door, and the masked figures entered. The children thought the costumes were disappointingly ordinary, and the masks not too distinctive. The adults figured that some satire was going to be acted out, probably poking fun at some bit of local culture or something a celebrity had done. The guest kept his own council, eyeing the revelers nervously.
The three klozums formed a tableau, a man on one side, the other man and the woman standing on the other. The one man knelt down and started to mime, his hands flipping through papers, his gaze turning back and forth. The couple chatted silently, laughing and carrying on with happy bodies and frozen faces.
The man stepped forward, placing his hand on an invisible knob, opening an invisible door. The kneeling man turned in shock and pointed his finger at himâ he fell back, clutching his heart. The woman ran forward and grappled with the man; they swung back and forth, this way and that. He got his hands on her neck, and they swung even more violently. She fell to her knees, and he let go, letting her collapse to the floor. He looked down at what heâd done, spreading his hands; kneeling again, he collected things from the floor, and then ran out the door of the bed and breakfast, into the night.
The other two players rose. They bowed formally to the family, and turning, left, without taking any of the offered snacks and drinks.
The family was confused. Why this strangely violent bit of theater? Why hadnât they said anything in the traditionally distorted voices? They didnât get it.
The head of the household turned to ask the guest what heâd thought - but he was gone; nowhere to be found, despite a search turning up untouched luggage in his room. All they could do was scratch their heads.
In a panic, the guest ran across the fields, looking over his shoulder, eyes wild. There, ahead, the ferry officeâ He banged on the door, fist hitting the plexiglass with the force of a man possessed, then sank to his knees.
Around him, three figures loomed. It was too early for the unmasking, and yet, their masks were removed.
The man looked up, and screamed.
Hello everyone!
Sorry for the delay in getting this up - been busy with holiday stuff.
This week we had three submissions, and they will be up later today per usual.
Next prompt set will be Wednesday 12/31.
Prompt #10 - Submissions Closed!
Submissions for Prompt #10 are now officially closed!
Prompt #10 Submissions due tomorrow, 12/27
Reminder to everyone that submissions for Prompt #10 are due tomorrow, 12/27 by 6pm EST.
Prompt #10 - Due 12/27, 6pm EST
In honor of the winter holidays, prompt #10 is simple and straightforward.
Write a piece set during a winter holiday of your choice!
As always, please keep pieces between 500-1000 words!
Happy holidays everyone!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Winter_holidays
For those considering options other than Christmas!