( 10 Song Lyrics That Mean Something To Me. )

I really could have kept going. Probably for days. But, I went with the first 10 to pop in my head.

We've had a couple of members ask if we can offer some more prompts per set. We're going to be giving three prompts for each section per set now.

We'll also be changing the RP prompt section to First Person/Blog/Diary prompts. These are prompts for writing pieces of any length in first person, be it a blog entry, diary entry, or your muse musing in First Person. No restrictions other than it being a challenge for First Person style rather than narrative style.

Any questions or suggestions for prompts, please feel free to ask :) Comments are screened.

( 1 ) Muse prompts (500+ words, first or third person)
- "The most important thing in illness is never to lose heart." ~Nikolai Lenin
- "I've had a wonderful evening - but this wasn't it." ~Groucho Marx
- "A morning without coffee is like sleep." ~Author Unknown

( 2 ) First Person/Blog/Diary prompts (Private to just your muse, or Public for all to see - your choice)
- History repeating
- Marriage vows
- Black and white

( 3 ) Drabble prompts (100-300 words, first or third person)
- "Everybody Hurts"
- "Born to be Wild"
- "I Will Survive"

( 4 ) Ten Things (List)
- Ten song lyrics that mean something to you
- Ten things you find disgusting
- Ten random thoughts that have popped into your mind recently

( 5 ) Misc/Random
- Five times you smiled and one time you cried
- Go to Philosophy 101's List of Emotions, pick ten, and write 10 drabbles of 100 words each relating your muse experiencing these emotions.
- In this text box (for copy and paste ease) there are 30 things that work to build who you are, have your muse answer them to snapshot the sort of person they are. Please place all answers to this under a cut.

<b>1) Favourite song:</b> <b>2) Favourite movie:</b> <b>3) Favourite food:</b> <b>4) Favourite colour:</b> <b>5) Worst food:</b> <b>6) Best memory:</b> <b>7) Worst memory:</b> <b>8) A dream or wish:</b> <b>9) Favourite item of clothing:</b> <b>10) Sexuality:</b> <b>11) Age you lost your virginity:</b> <b>12) Worst illness or injury:</b> <b>13) Social justice issue of importance to you:</b> <b>14) How many siblings:</b> <b>15) A piece of advice you have never forgotten:</b> <b>16) A piece of advice you thought was crap:</b> <b>17) A traumatic event:</b> <b>18) A wonderful event:</b> <b>19) Something you're looking forward to:</b> <b>20) Something you're not looking forward to:</b> <b>21) Favourite day of the week:</b> <b>22) Best time of the day:</b> <b>23) Best gift you have received:</b> <b>24) Worst gift you have received:</b> <b>25) Favourite holiday or occasion:</b> <b>26) Worst holiday or occasion:</b> <b>27) An item you will always cherish:</b> <b>28) A smell, fragrance or odour that will always spark a memory for you:</b> <b>29) One thing in your life you wish you could change:</b> <b>30) Most important person in your life:</b>

( 6 ) Canon prompts (OOC)
- What Personality Type is your muse and why?
- Sex, love, and romance - what do these mean to your muse? Do they go hand-in-hand with one another, or does your muse separate them entirely? If they had to just pick one that meant the most to them, what would it be?
- Pick one Sexual Kink your muse has never tried but wants to and write a prompt about them considering it, discussing it, or doing it.

Ten random thoughts that have popped into your mind recently

1. Hipster jeans and hipster people really have nothing to do with each other
2. Sex isn't anything like riding a bike
3. Axel Foley is one of the coolest characters ever
4. Whatever happened to Crystal Pepsi?
5. If you pass out getting a tattoo, can they legally still ink you?
6. I miss ALF
7. There's a dog called a Bullshiht, it's a cross between a Shihtzu and Bull Terrier
8. Strawberry ice cream tastes nothing like real strawberries
9. If I had to choose between K.I.T.T. or a Delorean, I couldn't
10. Don't ask an Alpha Wolf if he gets furballs ever

Stiles Stilinski // Teen Wolf

"Everybody hurts."

Beau stood in the bathroom, hands braced on the edge of the sink, and just stared at himself in the mirror. He didn’t think he really expected to look different, but he did. Or maybe he just hadn’t wasted a whole lot of time looking in the mirror recently. He was trying to see what everyone else was seeing, but at the same time, he had no idea what he was really looking for.

Maybe it was just the harsh spotlights overhead that his husband probably worshipped for spotting any blemish or mark he wouldn’t want to leave the house without rectifying. Maybe it was just the fact that he was sick that he looked it now. If people looked at him, would they know? Would they know that, once again, he was about to start the battle for his life he didn’t know he even had the energy for a second time around? He wanted to hide it. He wanted to push it off to the side and not think about it.

But how could he hide it when he wasn’t even sure he recognised himself in the reflection? Could he even plaster on a fake smile and get on with it? Probably not. Could he pretend he was fine and okay? Unlikely. Did he want to be able to do anything he could so people wouldn’t treat him differently? Fuck yes.

There was no way you could run from pain. You can’t hide from anything that is conceived in your soul and reflected on your face. Not pain that was more than just physical hurt. As much as he wanted to shield the man he loved from sharing this pain, he knew he couldn’t. And that was probably the most painful part of all.

Beau Watson-Shaw | Original Character | 296 words

"Born to Be Wild"

Euan was onto his eighth cup of coffee. He was pretty sure that over the years he had built a tolerance for caffeine, because the fucker didn’t even put a dent in the brain dead exhaustion he was feeling now. He stretched back in the uncomfortable plastic visitors chair beside his son’s hospital bed in the pediatric ward at the hospital. Jesus fucking Christ, he hated seeing him connected to all these tubes and looking the colour he was. What he did know was that he sure as fuck had no intentions of leaving this room until they could at least tell him how long the kid would be in there.

This was never where he could ever have seen his life going. He was a fucking recovering addict, clean for eight years and counting. His corpse should have rotted in a gutter years ago from either Hep C, HIV or OD, but now he was in the NYPD after graduating AA and cursing the F’ing C’s who raised spoilt brats to bully his illegitimate kid. Nothing like a bunch of crapshit anagrams to log your life under. Life was no longer about how many fucks or hits he could have in one day. It wasn’t about mapping his life by new ink to mark occasions. It wasn’t about taking a long, hard fuck in payment of a cellophane bag of badly cut crack. Now it was school schedules, medication regimes, Harry Potter, and Pepto Bismol. It was an eleven year old kneeing you in the ribs at night because he had a nightmare he woke up screaming from and didn’t want to be alone.

Somehow, blinking and missing it, Euan had stopped being a hardass bastard who would fuck himself and others up to get to a goal and had become an anxious father, where everything he did was about protecting a little person who was the only thing that ever came close to making his life feel complete.

Euan Fitzpatrick (Original Character)