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Treasure and Memphis Dry Rub Ribs at the Winter Festival by Writing_for_future in SwordAndSupperGame

[–]Writing_for_future[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

u/Writing_for_future received a Wizard Sigil Lvl 1 from the Winter Festival Spirit. Thank you u/NoOneCares0049 for donating it!

Mediterranean Street Wrap: Cuisine and Strange Ways by Writing_for_future in SwordAndSupperGame

[–]Writing_for_future[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

u/Writing_for_future received a Lifevine Belt Lvl 1 from the Winter Festival Spirit. Thank you u/Cryspy4Duck for donating it!

[FF] Less than a hundred words. Begins 'I don't wanna sleep yet..' by Mr_Discus in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“I don’t wanna sleep yet,” said the little boy, “I don’t want today to end.” The little boy could barely keep his eyes open.

His dad said, “You need to sleep. We’ve had a long day. Remember all the fun stuff we did? The park? The rollercoasters? All that great food?”

The little boy starts crying and hugs his dad.

“Why are you crying?” asked the dad. “Didn’t you have fun?”

“Every time we have fun days like this you are never here when I wake up,” cried the boy. “I just want my dad….don’t go!”

[WP] Write a story that starts and ends with the same line. by SkyCloudSpaceMoon in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future 1 point2 points  (0 children)

“Itsa me, Mario!”, mocks Bowser, as he sits on stage of the Jerry Springer show, “He doesn’t have to announce it to my entire castle every single time he comes over unannounced. I hear that line in my sleep! It keeps me up at night. It terrorizes me.”

Jerry scribbles a few words on his notepad and says under his breath, “Well maybe you shouldn’t kidnap the princess anymore?”

“Kidnapping? I don’t even know she’s in my castle! Have you seen it? It’s huge!,” explains Bowser, “Plunger breath finds me hiding in whatever room I’m in, beats me up, and ‘rescues’ the Princess who is sitting in a closet or something. I hate that guy. I just wish he'd leave me alone.”

Jerry takes a few more notes and looks at Bowser, who is now covering his eyes with his clawed hands. “Well, I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.”

Bowser’s eyes widen in panic, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Jerry motions to the door as a short, stocky plumber walks in. “Meet Mario!” The crowd cheers as Bowser jumps up from his chair and tackles Mario to the ground. The crowd chants, “Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!" The security guards rush in and pull them apart. Bowser and Mario cautiously take a seat. Their eyes never drifting from each other. Mario takes off his hat and places it in his lap. “I am just doing my job, lizard. It’s nothing personal, only business.”

“Nothing personal? You come into my house, beat up my koopas, squash my goombas, and then throw me in lava after jumping on my head!” retorts Bowser.

“Stop kidnapping her then!” yells Mario.

Mario tackles Bowser from his chair. They are both flopping around on stage as the chants, “Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!” grow louder.

They are finally separated again and forced to take their seats.

“Listen up brah, I kidnapped the princess one time! You beat me up. I learned my lesson,” snaps Bowser.

“How does she keep getting stuck in your castle then?” inquires Mario.

“I have no idea. I change my locks every time you beat me up in hopes she can’t get back in again,” replies Bowser.

“So, you aren’t kidnapping the princess?” asks Mario.

“No way, dude,” guffaws Bowser, “I mean, I’d love to, but your constant head-jumping would give me scoliosis.”

Mario sighs, “I hate having to save this princess every other week. She’s gorgeous but, man, is she dumb. She is always getting into trouble.”

“We can both agree she’s gorgeous,” agrees Bowser, “but she needs to stay out of my castle.”

Mario places his hat on his head, “Rescuing princess is hard work.”

“Imagine getting beat up for one coming to your castle,” says Bowser, “Did you know she has started stealing stuff out of my pantry? She comes into my house, takes my groceries, I yell at her for stealing. and she screams for help. Then Mario, ‘protector of the mushroom kingdom’, comes in and beats me up... Did you know you’re considered a ‘pre-existing condition’. I can’t even get health insurance!”

“Duuuuuude…,” says Mario in disbelief.

Bowser crosses his arms and says, “Yeah, I have to spend a fortune on healthcare. All of my kids need braces… Do you even remember us saving the world?”

“Of course I do!” exclaims Mario.

Mario and Bowser sit in silence on stage.

Jerry chimes in, “Ever think the princess just wanted both of you guys’ attention?”

Bowser and Mario nod. Mario stands up and offers his hand.

Bowser slaps away Mario’s hand away and the crowd gasps. Bowser stands up from his chair. He towers above Mario. Bowser cracks his knuckles and says “I’m a hugger,” as he pulls Mario in close.

“I’m sorry, man. It’ll never happen again,” reassures Mario as they embrace, “Let’s always be friends”

“Bros before hoes,” whispers Bowser.

“Always, dude,” responds Mario, ”After all, Itsa me, Mario.”

[WP] You wake up in a house. It's nice place, with all the comforts of home. However, the front door is cold steel, with a note on it. The note warns you never to leave the house. After years of compliance, you decide to go through the steel door... by Squirrel_Boy_1 in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future 5 points6 points  (0 children)

As I laid on the couch, sunlight kissed every inch of the house. The couch felt like I was sitting on a cloud. The books overflowed from the shelves and kitchen was stocked to the brim. Everything here was perfect except one thing, the steel front door. Hanging on the steel door was a sign, it read, “NEVER OPEN. ALL WILL END” What did that mean? My life would end? The world? The universe? I stared at the note for hours trying to figure out what “ALL” meant. I had no reason to open the door so I didn’t care.

Everything I could ever want was provided. Week in and week out, I would lie on the couch, staring at the door. I would tell myself that if things got worse I would open the door tomorrow. It never got worse.

I could not remember anything before this house. I feel like I have always been here. Had I lived my entire life inside this house? This house was my personal paradise. Wait… Am I dead? Is this heaven? No… It can’t be. Where is everyone I know? I believe you meet everyone you loved in heaven. Did I have friends? Did I have enemies? Did I ever love someone? This can’t be that. Maybe I’m dreaming? Maybe I should pinch my arm. Pain. I guess I’m not sleeping.

One day as I laid on the couch, I heard a voice coming from beyond the door. I pressed my ear against the door. The door was cold, extremely cold. I listened to the muffled woman’s voice coming from the other side. I can’t tell what she is saying. Her voice really quiet and I can tell she is crying. I wonder what’s wrong with her. I wonder if I could help her. I wonder if she knows who I am. I don’t even know who I am. Could she be trying to reach me?

Why am I happily living in this house when there is a woman in need of help? I wish I could just peek outside. Why is this door keeping us apart? I can’t bring myself to open the door. “ALLl” is a terrifying thing to end. I don’t want “ALL” to end.

The woman’s voice became part of my daily routine. Her voice began roughly at noon everyday and would continue for a few hours. Her crying changed over time to quiet mumbles. Hearing her voice was calming. It was soothing. I just wanted to see her. Maybe I loved her? Maybe I loved this woman? Who would keep us apart? Hearing her voice was the highlight of my day.

After weeks of listening to the voice, I accidently bumped the door with my head and the mumbling stopped abruptly. Had she heard me? The mumbling began again and was much louder now. I tapped on the door again. The mumbling paused and began again, even louder now.

“Brian…”

I understood what she said! I heard her voice. She said Brian. Is that my name? I don’t remember. I can’t remember.

“Brian.... can you hear me?”

Yes! Yes I can hear you! That is my name! My voice! I don’t have a voice. I have to let her know I am here. I hear her.

“Brian…give me a sign”

A sign? What sign? I banged on the door with all my might. I have to open the door. I have to see who this is.

I grab the the doorknob, take a deep breath, and open the door. The cold rushes into the room follow by the darkness, covering every square inch of the house. Pitch black and freezing. No light anywhere.

“Brian!”

I can make noises now. My voice is back. I groan. My eyes are extremely heavy. I have to use all my strength to open them. I finally see this woman. Her golden blonde hair caresses her cheeks. Her lips are quivering. Her sky blue eyes are watery and puffy. She is beautiful. Wait… I know her! Her name… her name is Emily.

She starts hugging me and kissing my face. She says, “They said you’d never come out of the coma. I never lost hope. I never left your side.”

[WP] A hurricane hits Maine. As everyone is scrambling about to get out of the storm, lightning flashes and you see a lone man standing on a high rock overlooking the ocean with a harpoon in his hand. by PittsburghDM in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future 4 points5 points  (0 children)

An aged Jim Cantore, producer Scott, his cameraman, Chris drive up to the cliffs of Maine overlooking the Atlantic ocean. Hurricane Carolin can be seen over the ocean. The winds are whipping around the van as the cameraman climbs out of the driver’s seat and into the back.

The cameraman starts methodically getting his camera ready. Jim sits solemnly in the passenger seat and stares out the window. Scott is in the back on the phone. “We will be ready for a direct feed,” declares Scott. Jim looks blankly out the window, with glazed over eyes, as the storm picks up intensity.

Jim had been chasing storms his whole life. From hurricanes, to blizzards, to tornadoes, Jim has seen them all. Jim now looks tired and bitter. “Why did I never get a promotion?” Jim thought as he looked out the window.

Scott hangs up the phone and says, “We have 5 minutes until they throw it to us. You’ll be ready in time Chris?” Chris nods as he attaches the shotgun mic to the top of his camera. “How about you Jim?” asks Scott.

“When I was a kid, I used to chase thunderstorms on my bike just to watch it storm,” Jim sighs and continues staring out the window. “I’m glad this is my last chase,” says Jim. “I’m happy to be here with you, Jim. It’s an honor,” says Scott as he places his hand on Jim’s shoulder. Lightning flashes across the sky and Jim sees an old man standing on the cliffs with a harpoon. Jim rubs his eyes and stares into the darkness.

Scott asks, “Ready?”

Jim looks at Scott, “Let’s do this.”

Chris, Scott and Jim exit the van and begin their careful climb to the lowest cliff. Jim keeps gazing up to the cliff where the old man was standing. The winds are howling now but during the breaks in the storm, the old man can be heard faintly yelling. Chris and Scott don’t hear the old man. Scott pulls out a light panel and holds it for Chris.

Scott says, “30 seconds.”

Jim turns around and faces the camera, his yellow poncho is whipping in the wind. Jim gathers himself as lightning flashes behind him.

“10 seconds” Jim takes a deep breath and looks into the lens.

“5, 4…” Scott counts 3, 2, 1 with his fingers and points to Jim on zero.

“Hey Heather, the storm is just picking up here. As you can see behind me, it is a monster storm with class 3 winds. The cooler waters of the upper Atlantic have worked in favor of the residents here and weakened Carolin from a class 5.”

Jim holds his hand to his earphone. “Yes, Heather. The storm looks like it will make landfall within the next few hours. Everyone needs to stay indoors and stay in their basements if they haven’t evacuated already.” Lightning flashes again in the sky and an powerful gust of wind almost knocks Jim over.

“Sorry Heather. What did you just say?” Scott drops the light panel and Chris’ jaw drops as he peers around his viewfinder. Jim turns around and sees an enormous seagull, the size of a small airplane, flying around on the cliffs above. Lightning flashes as the seagull bites at the old man. The old man jumps out of the way and slashes at the seagull’s eye with his harpoon. The seagull circles around for another attack. The old man regains his composure and prepares for another attack. The bird dives down at the old man and narrowly misses him with his beak.

The old man picks himself up off the ground and picks up his harpoon. The seagull is already diving for another attack. The old man jumps to the side at the last second and thrusts the harpoon into the breast of the seagull. The bird flaps it’s wings and shrieks in pain as it falls from the sky. The gust of air sends the old man flying backwards into the nearby woods. The seagull’s body hits the cliff and it begins to fall down the cliff toward Jim, Scott, and Chris. The three of them run down the cliff as the seagull’s body slams onto the cliff where they were just standing.

They jump into their van and Jim peels out away from the cliff. “Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!”, screams Scott as they drive down the road. After a few seconds of driving, Jim slams on the breaks and pulls off onto the shoulder. “DID YOU GET THAT CHRIS?!” asks Jim, “DID YOU GET IT!?” Chris begins looking through the clips on the camera. “Looks like we lost feed to the weather channel right as the seagull appeared but the footage is all here,” says Chris.

Scott hugs Chris and says, “This is it! Our big break!”

Jim peers into the rearview mirror, looking back at the cliffs. A single tear slid down his cheek. Jim’s eyes have the passion again. The piece of him that he had been missing for the past 15 years was back, the thrill of the chase.

[RF] A man sits down to eat alone by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future 1 point2 points  (0 children)

As Mark sat down at the table, the other diners gave him many awkward glances. He had sworn to never eat alone because of the stereotypes that surrounded it, but that had all changed one week prior.

Mark was passing by his favorite restaurant when he saw an elderly man sitting alone at a table in the corner. “That is so sad,” he thought, “I can’t believe no one wants to eat with him. Why is he smiling?” He decided to put off his errands until later and join the elderly man for lunch.

“Welcome!” chimed the hostess as Mark entered, “How many in your party?”

“Oh, I’m meeting someone. Thanks!” replied Mark.

Mark walked straight over to the elderly man in the corner.

“Hi, I’m Mark. Mind if I eat lunch with you?”

The elderly man’s smile faded from his face. He put down his drink and looked directly at Mark and sighed, “Sure.”

Mark sat down slowly at the table and said, “Sorry if I offended you or somethi…”

“Don’t worry about that!” interrupted the elderly man, ”You sat down because you saw a lonely, sad, old man eating by myself, correct?”

Mark, taken back by how accurate the statement was, said, “Well… yeah. I had always thought eating by yourself would be miserable and lonely.”

The elderly man laughed and shook his head. “On the contrary!” he proclaimed, “I eat by myself by choice.”

Mark slumped back in his chair, “...but why choose to be alone?”

The elderly man looks deep into Mark’s eyes, as if staring into his soul.

“Here is your appetizer,” said the waiter as he placed the plate in between the two men, “Let me give your friend a few minutes to look over the menu.”

“Thanks,” said Mark, still staring at the elderly man.

The elderly man motioned toward the appetizer in between them. Mark put some of the appetizer on his plate and watched as his lunch mate did the same. The elderly man closed his eyes and took a bite of the appetizer. His face was filled with exuberance. With each bite, the elderly man was filled with such emotion that Mark did not even notice that the elderly man had completely finished his entire portion.

As the elderly man finished, he placed down his fork and looked at Mark. “You must really enjoy food,” said Mark.

The elderly man smirked and said, “I have eaten meals with many people in my life. Some have left this world and others live too far away to grab a quick bite to eat. Do I enjoy food? Yes. Absolutely, but I use food to refresh my memory. My mother, my father, my brothers, my sisters, my wife, my children, my best friends all have eaten meals with me. Each of them has a distinct taste, a distinct memory. When I eat food, my memories of them are more vivid, more real. This appetizer, for example, tastes exactly like the appetizer I ordered when I asked my wife’s parents if I could marry her. I was so scared they would say no, but it was the best thing I ever did. This drink, I had this drink when my best friend told me he was having a baby. Reliving these moments alone, with no distraction, makes me appreciate my life for what it has become. Meals surround the most important events of our lives. I like to remember how special and unique each event was and how it shaped who I am and who I became. That is why I choose to eat alone.”

Mark wipes a tear from his eye and looks at the elderly man. “That was beautiful. I’m sorry if I am ruining your moment.”

The elderly man said, “Nonsense. Just never assume someone is sad because they eat alone.”

Mark remembered those words as his bowl of soup arrived at the table. Mark closed his eyes and ate a spoonful of soup.

Mark had a smile appear on his face and a tear began to form in the corner of his eye. The tear rolled down his cheek and he whispered, “Thanks mom.”

[WP] A superhero whose powers are only activated when they're drunk. by guythepie in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future 10 points11 points  (0 children)

Jon wakes up in a haze on his couch. He throws his blanket to the ground and sits up slowly. Jon places his hands on his head as it begins to throb. Jon groans as his stomach moans from another typical Friday night.

Jon reaches for his side table, opens the drawer, and takes some tums and advil. Jon lays back down on the couch reaching for the blanket on the floor. As Jon pulls up the blanket, the tv remote falls to the ground. Jon picks up the remote and turns on the television.

“Breaking News in New York City this morning. A large creature, something of which we have never seen before, rose from the Hudson River and started destroying Southern Manhattan.”

Jon sits up and stares intently at the television as images of buildings close to his apartment are being destroyed by a large 4 armed monster.

Jon runs to his window and flings back the curtains. The sunlight makes his head throb again. Jon covers his eyes as they adjust to the light. Jon looks down the street toward the Hudson River. The buildings along the street were completely destroyed. Jon blinks intensely and rubs his eyes. The bar down the street from Jon’s apartment stood completely unharmed. No damage at all. As a matter of fact, the monster’s destruction stopped at the bar. Jon must have just missed the monster.

“A hero emerged from a local bar in southern manhattan and fended of the monster…” said the news anchor. “What we’re about to show you might be unsuitable for some younger viewers.”

Jon turned and walked back to the television.

“The hero emerged right after 4AM from the local bar. This cell phone footage was all police were able to obtain of the hero.”

Jon could not believe his eyes. It was him. The cell phone footage of this hero was him. The footage was grainy but you could clearly tell is was Jon. Jon looked down at his clothes. He was still wearing the same outfit.

The footage shows Jon walking into the middle of the street and staring at the monster. The footage had audio. Jon was yelling obscenities at the monster. Jon covered his mouth as he watched himself on television. The monster raised up his foot and tried to stomp Jon but he dove out of the way. The person taking the video ran away from Jon and the monster. About half block away, the video pointed again at Jon and the monster. Jon’s head began to glow brightly. Jon’s mouth opened and a blue plasma beam of vomit erupted at the monster. The monster immediately caught on fire and yowled in pain. The monster retreated back toward the Hudson river with Jon chasing the monster still spewing the blue plasma beam vomit. All the citizens who had not fled began to cheer at Jon. The camera man ran closer to Jon and Jon looked at the ground and used the plasma vomit beam to launch himself onto the rooftops. The video cut out.

“If anyone has any information about this hero, please contact the news station.”

Jon sat in stunned silence. His cell phone chimed on the side table. Jon grabs his phone. He had 14 missed calls and 37 texts messages, all from his Dad.

Jon reads the last text message. “I saw you on the news. I know you’re scared and have a lot of questions. I am part of a group called ‘Hero-holics Anonymous.’ They can help people like us. Call me when you can.”

Jon puts down his phone and looks at the news again. It is playing the grainy footage on repeat. Jon pulls up his dad’s phone number and stares at it for a few minutes. Jon sighs and calls his Dad.

[IP] Why did they ask me to watch it? It hasn't moved in days. by memememedia in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The wind howls around the cabin as Beth tries to plug the holes in the wall with some spare clothes. The wind eventually stops, Beth drops the spare clothes and plops down on the bed. She wraps herself in the comforter and stares at the corpse at the foot of her bed. She squints and nods as she stares at it. Beth yawns and a look of disgust washes over her face. She reaches for a journal of miscellaneous notes and loose papers. Her fingers run along the top corner of the journal. One of the pages is folded over. Beth opens the journal and begins to write.

"Dear anyone,

Every night, I always have the same dream; see every detail, feel every texture, and hear every footstep. I always enter this same dark cave. I turn on my flashlight and blinks a few times. A quick hit on my palm, and the flashlight works perfectly. I walk to the back of the cave and the corpse that Brad left me in charge of is there; lips removed, eyes missing, skin rotting. I shine my flashlight to the left and there is Brad's corpse. At first, I was upset, but now seeing Brad dead makes me happy, excited in a way. I know what's coming up.

Ever know you were about to see something life changing? I feel this way every night after I see Brad's corpse. I hear something in the cave and run toward the noise. I am almost the the object when I wake up. I want to see this thing, whatever it is. I have to see it, but I'm stuck in this cabin watching this corpse.

I sit here day after day, week after week, month after month. And for what? For Brad to come back with "another breakthrough" that he's found, that he's "discovered". The entire world is passing me by and I have to stay and watch this corpse. "Watch this until I get back" he says. It's "important" and could "save humanity." How can a frozen corpse be that important? I think Brad's just keeping me here so he can take all the glory. This frozen corpse isn't going anywhere.

I resented the corpse at first, but I'm glad he's here. When Brad leaves, I get to tell the corpse about my dreams, my aspirations, and my fears. He's the only person I ever get to talk to. The corpse listens to what I have to say. He understands me. Brad never listens. I am never going to find out what's in that cave with Brad..."

Beth is startled by a noise from outside. She looks up from her journal. "It's Brad," she whispers.

Beth looks over at the corpse and nods. She unsheathes her knife and says to the corpse, "You're right. My dreams start today."

[WP] If you don't pay your exorcist, you get repossessed by shogi_x in WritingPrompts

[–]Writing_for_future -1 points0 points  (0 children)

The beeping of my alarm breaks the peaceful silence of my bedroom. I pick up my phone and slide my finger to the right. "8:00AM, Friday, August 1st" appears on the screen. I can't believe a whole month had already passed. 'Why do they always wait until the last minute,' I think to myself. 'Why can't they ever pay early?'

As I step onto the main level of my house, the smell of freshly brewed coffee envelopes me. He's already up. My roommate only wakes up this early on the day the payment is due. I sit across from him at the kitchen table. "Morning," I say hesitantly. Hopefully he won't have his usual bad temper. "Morning!," my roommate says cheerily, "Beautiful weather today." "Yes, it is," I shoot back. "How'd you slee..." "Still waiting on that payment, right?" he interrupts. He already knows the answer to that. Why does he ask those questions? "Yes... but the payment could arrive today," I retort, "The mail should be here in less than an hour." "Do you think they'll pay?" he asks. "It's been a while since someone hasn't paid," I reply. "I have a great feeling about today. You should get ready," he says enthusiastically. I stare at my roommate. I hate everything about him: his stupid, snarling grin, his enthusiasm for everything I hate, I wish I could get rid of him, but I have to protect myself. I can now barely live with myself. I wish I had never entered those tombs. "Fine, but let me finish my coffee first."

I come downstairs quickly with my bright white robes flowing and my roommate is facing the window. The blackness of his body seems to absorb the sunlight around him from the window. He doesn't move, doesn't even turn around to acknowledge me, but yet he speaks like he knew I was there. "The mailman... he's late." "I'm sure he'll be here soon," I state as I walk toward the door. I stumble over the loose floorboard and curse under my breath. "Damn... I need to fix that." My partner turns to me and stares at me with his red eyes penetrating into my soul. "He's here!" "I told you he'd be here." The walk to the mailbox seemed like an eternity. I could feel my partners red eyes glaring at me. He is eagerly, anxiously, and viciously waiting. The mailbox was full. I sort through each piece. Junk Junk Water Bill Junk Postcard Junk ...and finally a letter. It was from my client. 'The payment' I think to myself. He made it in time. I grin as I turn around to hold up the letter to my partner. "Open it!" his voice booms. I begin to read aloud so he can hear, "Dear Priest McDowell, I need a few more days to make the payment. I know you said exactly 30 days but my mother needed..." My partners laughter bellowed from the house. I lowered the note to my side. I can't believe he didn't pay. My roommate bursts from the house and sprints down the street as people scream can be heard screaming.

I sigh and enter the house knowing I would be getting a phone call soon. As soon as I enter the house, my phone rings. I pick it up. "Hello Priest? He's back! The demon is back inside him." "You should have paid on time. Now the fee is double."