#writing song prompts

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part V

Baby you gave me bad ideas - This is the last time, The National

All of your demons will wither away - Demons, Fatboy Slim feat. Macy Gray

His love is my favourite - Kill this love, Blackpink

Three points where two lines meet - Tessellate, alt-J

Kings of imagining things - The long haul, NO

Swallow all our pride - Fairytale gone bad, Sunrise Avenue

Keep your hand in mine - So cold, Breaking Benjamin

Take this veil from off my eyes - Doin' time, Lana del Rey

Unforgiven, I'm a villain - Unforgiven, Le Sserafim

Let me sleep in your arms - In your arms, Stanfour

All of my thoughts of you - Graceless, The National

Stay cool (it's just a kiss) - Talk too much, COIN

There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt - Pyramid Song, Radiohead

I know it's pain (but I really want it so bad) - Want so bad, Lee Know + HAN

We could leave in the morning (and go all night) - They own this town, Flora Cash

You'll be the saddest part of me - The Loneliest, Måneskin

Don't need to say goodbye - The Call, Regina Spektor

When I'm alone, I'd rather be with you - 3005, Childish Gambino

It's just me and your ghost - me & ur ghost, blackbear

Tell ′em all I said hi - I said hi, Amy Shark

We don't gotta be in love - One of your girls, The Weeknd feat. Jennie, Lily-Rose Depp

The distance between you and me (it never seems to disappear) - Maybe if, BIBI

Say what you want (I'll keep it a secret) - One of your girls, Troye Sivan

I'm surrendering tonight - Collide, Rachel Platten

That's what you get when you let your heart win - That's what you get, Paramore

Give me a sign, I want to believe - The Ballad of Mona Lisa, Panic! at the Disco

Just a game that can't be won - Always on the run, Isaak Guderian

Your lips should be saying the same thing - Really, Blackpink

Still, I'm under your control now - Number 1, Nico Santos

Embracing all my scars and imperfections - Comflex, Stray Kids

More titles!

[keyotosprompts]

yk i'm such a fool for you ₊˚⊹♡

pining prompts (it's my whole shtick)

⇴ person a and b are looking at each other when there's that one person that annoys both of them, and then laughing. it's that SHARED LOOK and SHARED CONNECTION that makes person a quickly turn away.

⇴ person a comes out looking amazing, and person b is literally too stunned to speak. person b's hand is on their chest as if they're trying to catch their breath. person b so desperately wants to reach out and say something, until person a grabs person c's hand.

⇴ person a has been attracted to person b since they last met at a short-term location (ex. airport), so much so that all of their friends know about person b and are desperate to find them so they can shut person a up.

⇴ person a and person b both brushing hands on accident, and person a quickly yanks their hand away while person b is still spiraling because of the contact.

⇴ additionally ^ they both say "sorry!" at the same time, and person b is just like "oh my god we just brushed hands and their hands were so soft and i want to do it again poierjbhuefjniubh"

⇴ person b doing anything to make person a laugh. "you are my glorious god and i will kiss the ground you walk on," followed by person a's laugh and SMILE (person b nearly evaporates). "shut up" with a smile and PERSON B IS FOUND DEAD ON THE GROUND.

⇴ "you're adorable" "what?" "nothing."

⇴ person b is telling themselves not to get close to person a. but once they see person a right in front of them, they fold immediately. person b listens to any word person a says, regardless of "needing to avoid them." person a has person b enamoured and doesn't even know it.

⇴ person b and person a both jokingly flirt with each other, except neither of them are joking but both of them think the other person is. (idiots)

⇴ "i can't keep myself away from them. i think they have some magnetic force that pulls me into them" – person a/b. "i think that's called attraction and, call me crazy here, but i think you're in love with them." – person c, who is fed up.

⇴ one night stand between person a and person b, whom were both drunk at the time. person b is in the middle of regretting everything and feeling like SHIT and gently admiring a the morning after because they're aware that nothing will be the same after this and this might even be the last time they will talk.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “friends don’t look at friends that way” prompts

“Your mouth says you don’t like me but the way you stare at me tells me everything I need to know.” 

“Stop staring at me like that, it’s making me feel things I don’t want to feel.”

“Your eyes are always on them.” “…Are they? I haven’t noticed.”

“You’re being very unsubtle with your heart eyes for them.” 

“You look like you want to devour them.” “Shut the fuck up, that is so not true.”

“Why do you always look at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you… Want me.” 

“You staring at me like that is giving me false hopes so I’m going to need you to stop.”

“So like… Do you like them or something?” “Why would you think that? How could you think that?” “Because you keep staring at them like you’re in love or something.” 

“Stop eyeing them like they’re a piece of snack, you fucking weirdass.” “The fuck? I do not do that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can’t help but stare at you because you’re just so…” “So…?” “Breathtaking. You’re breathtaking.”

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

steve immediately catching obvious signs of heartbreak from eddie because he’s experienced them so many times himself, wondering how anyone could have possibly turned the guy down or strung him along, when he himself is so smitten that he can barely keep himself from telling eddie how he feels for fear of ruining their friendship. steve assuming that some metalhead girl is the source of eddie’s heartbreak, trying to set him up with a couple of girls to try and help him get over whoever it is, having boys’ nights where he offers to listen to whatever eddie wants to say about this mystery girl that’s got his heart all in knots, even though it’s downright torturous for steve.

eddie being more confused than he’s ever been, because steve seems to have picked up on how hopelessly eddie’s been pining, but not that it’s him eddie’s been pining after. he has to keep turning down the girls steve tries to set him up with, has to keep deflecting when steve asks him about the “girl” that’s making him so sad, all the while he’s, like, pretty sure steve is flirting with him. but steve’s straight, right? right…?

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 8/13

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man—Charles, Max assumes—sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: You Better Not Let Him In [Yandere Wolfman x Reader]

Title: You Better Not Let Him In [Yandere Wolfman x Reader]

Synopsis: The door doesn't lock, and he still wants you to let him in.

For Horrorfest request: trying to hide from a wolfman but the door wont close

Word count: 600ish

notes: yandere, non-graphic mentions of violence, implications of possible sexual assault

“Oh, please.” The words bubble from your chapped lips like a prayer. A desperate one, the kind you would whisper like a mantra as a child, eyes squeezed shut, on those nights that you were suddenly sure you wouldn’t wake up. 

Now-I-lay-me-down-to-sleep-I-pray-the-lord-my-soul-to-keep. 

If-I-should-die-before-I-wake-I-pray-the-lord-my-soul-to-take.

But there’s no use praying to the wolfman on the other side of the door.

No use at all. 

His breath is loud; you imagine how hot it must be against the door. What it must smell like: primal, like the rest of him. He pants in great short huffs from the running he did–the chasing, more like.

Chasing you from the hiking trail all the way into your little cabin (he burst through the front door, broke the lock clean off); down the hall, into what had been your bedroom for the past week.

Only there was no lock on the door–it won’t even close all the way, thanks to the faulty hinges. And there’s nothing heavy enough to put in front of it, nothing you’re strong enough to drag.

Nothing at all you could do but brace your shoulder against it, even though you saw the wolfman break the heavy lock on the thick front door of the cabin like it was nothing. 

So you know, without a hint of a doubt–

The only reason he’s not inside right now is because he’s waiting for you to open up, like a good little thing, like Red Riding Hood smiling brightly at grandmother before she gets oh-so-close enough to see the points of her sharp teeth. 

“Open the door,” he says, in a voice that is not very sweet. “Open the door, and let me in.”

There’s a sound against the wood. Scratching. A claw–his claw, he has no hands but paws with nails so sharp you’re sure they will gut you easily–dragging down the wood.

You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is press your shoulder feebly against the door, knowing he’s on the other side, knowing all it would take is a shove to have you on the floor and the door swinging off its loose hinges.

How did he find you? How long had he followed you? It all falls into place, here, on the other side of the door. The unusual footprints around the cabin. The ripped up flowers left at your door, topped with a dead mouse. The sounds in the woods--the snapping, the breath you thought had been a fox or perhaps, a lumbering raccoon.

It was him, and now--

“Open the door,” he says to your silence. Louder and lower, and you catch the sound of spittle in it. He won’t be patient for much longer. You have to make a choice.

Your heart pounds so hard you can hear it. 

He can, too. 

“Open the door,” he says, for the final time. “Or I’ll–”

Huff-and-puff-and-blow-your-house-in.

“Please don’t,” you squeak out, sounding like the prey that you are. “I’ll–-I’ll open it.”

It takes longer than you expect to force your body to move away from the door. It doesn’t want to move. It knows what’s going to happen, even as your brain whirs and whirs and tries to guess. 

He could eat you. Tear you to pieces, gobble you down like dinner. He could–he could–but oh, you know, there are worse things than being eaten.

Worse things are what you think about when he pushes the door, which half-falls off the broken hinges, and stands in the now-empty frame. 

He smiles, and his teeth are very sharp. 

[scealaiscoite]

unreal unearth prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

⋆ "i'd still know you."

⋆ "i'd block the sun if you want it done."

⋆ "some part of me must have died the first time that you called me baby."

⋆ "come here to me, when was the last time?"

⋆ "when i was young, i used to guess."

⋆ "do you think i'd give up?"

⋆ "do you think i'd give up? that this could've shook the love from me?"

⋆ "how could you think i'd scare so easily?"

⋆ "my life was a storm since i was born."

⋆ "if i could hold you for a minute, i'd go through it again."

⋆ "heaven is not fit to house a love like yours and mine."

⋆ "i feel lighter than i have in so much time."

⋆ "how could i fall when i am lifted by every word you say to me?"

⋆ "if you need to, darling, lean your weight on me."

⋆ "but if we fall i only pray, don't fall away from me."

⋆ "i do not have wings, love, and i never will."

⋆ "i'm starvin', darling."

⋆ "honey, i wanna race you to the table."

⋆ "two outfits then to my name, and you'd end up in one when you'd stay."

⋆ "we'd go out with no way to get home."

⋆ "but I know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done."

⋆ "we knew what our love was worth."

⋆ "hold me like water- or christ, hold me like a knife."

⋆ "it's who we are."

⋆ "darling, we sacrificed."

⋆ "if there was anyone to ever get through this life with their heart still intact, they didn't do it right."

⋆ "we didn't get it right but, love, we did our best."

⋆ "there are some things that no one teaches you, love."

⋆ "but it came easy, darlin', as natural as another leg around you in the bed frame."

⋆ "so far from home to have a stranger call you "darling"."

⋆ "i would do everything if you'd hear me."

⋆ "the feeling came late, but i'm still glad i met you."

⋆ "i knew i'd no choice but to love you."

⋆ "i thought you were like an angel to me."

⋆ do you know i could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, i still carry for you?"

⋆ "it's like i lived my whole life before the first light."

⋆ "the sun's coming up."

[unboundprompts]

Sorry for annoying you? I just really really like what you do and all the resources you just give out. You manage to do it so so well!

Would you mind making some song lyric prompts from The Amazing Devil songs? Please?

The Amazing Devil Prompts

-> writing prompts from The Amazing Devil songs. feel free to edit as you see fit.

"You were raised by wolves and voices." - The Horror and the Wild

"You try so loud to love be, but I cannot seem to hear." - That Unwanted Animal

"Our gods have abandoned us." - Farewell Wanderlust

"It's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall." - Inkpot Gods

"We're both unwanted daughters." - The Calling

"You're the words that I promise I don't mean." - The Horror and the Wild

"The creature scratches, it doesn't know how to get out." - That Unwanted Animal

"I will be the man my father never was." - Inkpot Gods

"I promise you I'm not broken, I promise you there's more." - Farewell Wanderlust

"What you hear is not silence, it's just the trees waiting to hear what next you'll hum." - Inkpot Gods

"Give me back my heart, you wingless thing." - The Horror and the Wild

"Now take a good long look at what you've done to me." - Farewell Wanderlust

"Hold the hand of the god-child," they said, "as he falls from the sky." - That Unwanted Animal

"We've an accord, if you ever touch or harm him, please, rest assured that you might not fear a man, but to a woman, by the end, you'll kneel and plea because I'm more than what my mum told me to be." - Inkpot Gods

"Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring." - The Horror and the Wild

"Come, devil, come," she sang, "Call out my name." - Farewell Wanderlust

"I wish that I could take his hand, but where I'm going is for me and me alone." - Inkpot Gods

[bahkeks]

As Draco stirs a final time, his final potion for his final NEWT, the scents came rushing up to him all at once.

Star Grass. Something his mum used to rub on her temples for migraines.

Mahogany. His trusty broom. If he closes his eyes, that smell could transport him to the sky.

And… something else woody. Not mahogany, but the woods. Earthy. Mixed with leather. And burning. A burning that fills him with fear and trust.

He stills.

Looks up.

Harry is looking back at him with the same expression of terrified desire, above his own cauldron of Amortentia.

my first attempt at a drabble, for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Love Potion.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part VI

Teach me how to get my smile back - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, HAN feat. BAE

You keep a lot of secrets (and I keep none) - Fireproof, The National

Too much darkness for a rainbow - Gone, Rosé

I always say goodbye - World spins madly on, The Weepies

We can set the world on fire - You are the solution, Loving Caliber

Drop a single tear drop - Tomboy, (G)I-DLE

I still dream of you - Ghost towns, Radical Face

Love is not a competition - Collide, Rachel Platten

Demons are friends, angels are enemies - @ my worst, blackbear

We're such a mess together - Using you, Mars Argo

I've found a love to love like no other can - Nara, alt-J

All for freedom and for pleasure - Everybody wants to rule the world, Tears for Fears

Why you asking? (No, I'm not ok) - Not ok, Loco feat. Minnie

In the fantasy it's so convincing - Dirty thoughts, Chloe Adams

The only memory is us kissing in the moonlight - Can't remember to forget you, Shakira feat. Rihanna

Searching for something that ain't lost - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg

A little more delicate - Clementine, Sarah Jaffe

Tonight we are victorious - Victorious, Panic! at the Disco

I want you so much, but I hate your guts - Landfill, Daughter

Your idols betray you/Your heroes will fail you/′Cause we are no saints - We are no saints, Blind Channel

Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that? - Heartbeat, Childish Gambino

'Cause sometimes the wrong ones are just what you need - James has changed, Phoebe Ryan

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone - Lovely, Billie Eilish & Khalid

Chasing visions of our futures - Youth, Daughter

Why is love so contradicting? - Contradicting, Hyunjin

I wanna be found by you - Adore, Amy Shark

Somebody might die (but nobody gets hurt) - Honey, Måneskin

The history books forgot about us - Samson, Regina Spektor

I like us better when we're intertwined - Cool, Dua Lipa

Baby don't go away (love me like you loved me) - Miserable (You & Me), HAN

More titles!

[miakate-writes]

Denial prompts!

friends to lovers denial prompts 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

“whether i’m gonna be your wife or gonna smash up your bike i haven’t decided yet” જ⁀➴ ♡

[a/n: denial is a river in egypt, guys. turned this into a friends to lovers thing, hope that’s ok 💌]

a does NOT like b

b does NOT like a

but when a where’s a cute outfit b doesn’t stop staring the whole day

and when b runs their hand through their hair a can’t seem to look away

both of them have dreams about each other, stupid dreams that definitely have meanings neither of them want to unpack

they are so so clearly in denial that it’s actually painful to watch

c practically begs b to just confess to a

but whenever anyone mentions this “crush” to them they turn into a red, blabbering mess

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “and no matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back (I know, you know, I will never get over you)” prompts 

Want You Back - 5SOS 

“What if I tell you I never truly got over you?” “Well… That doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“So you’ll always love them?” “…I’m afraid so.”

“They’re just not someone you can get over. The thought of them lingers; their presence always felt.”  

“I thought you moved on.” “Unfortunately for me, I’m still very much in love with them.” 

“I… I wish they were still mine, but I fucked things up so bad, and now things will never go back to the way they were before.” 

“They really were irreplaceable. I physically cannot stomach being with someone else. It has to be them, but it also can’t be them. Not anymore.” 

“Do you actually love [insert character A’s name] or are you still thinking about [insert Character B’s name].” “…Next question, please.”

“You’re someone I can’t move on from.” “Maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough.” “No… No it’s not— You were it for me. And I somehow fucked it up.” 

“Apparently, time doesn’t make you miss somebody less, even after you’ve broken up. It actually makes you miss them more.” “…Yeah, I don’t think that’s the usual experience.” 

“I can’t help but wish I did things differently. Maybe I’d still have them in my life, you know?”

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 64

Jaskier has been cursed to turn into a Lark during the day for years now. It makes following his dreams very difficult, what with a lark not being able to carry a lute nor his money pouch, but he just waits to move at night, when the magic turns him back into his human form. Which means he technically has a very awful sleep schedule, but that's not what we're focusing on. Jaskier is sat in a tree one afternoon, trying to sleep, when a horse neighs below him. He peeks down and to his surprise sees a witcher. A witcher! What stories he must have! Jaskier must follow him so that he can ask him questions once he becomes human again! So a very sleepy bird follows after Geralt, twittering and singing all the while. Geralt evidently notices, but ignores the bird for the most part. That is, until the bird lands on Roach's back. Geralt sighs. These birds will stop at nothing... He reaches into his pack, and plucks off a few pieces of bread, and scatters them along the road behind them. He watches as the bird eagerly hops down and pecks at them. Jaskier isn't usually one for eating off the ground, but he's technically a bird right now, and he really mustn't let free food go to waste! It's only after he's finished his banquet that he notices the witcher has ridden off. Oh drat. He'll try and find him that night. When he's not so tired. The next day, Geralt is sat at his camp with Roach, and is surprised to see the same hungry lark as yesterday flying over to sit beside him. Geralt once again shares a bit of his food, and even gets to pet the bird's head. He admits he's grown a fondness for the little lark. That afternoon, just before the sun has set, Geralt is armored up and ready for a fight. Roach is tacked up, he has his potions, his swords, his lark, his oils, hi- Wait, his lark? The lark keeps insisting on following him, until he finally shoos it away with a firm "Don't come. It's dangerous." and the bird seems to understand. Geralt is unnerved at the implications, but he has a contract to attend to first.

Geralt wakes up the next morning, bloody and beaten, no longer high on potions. It was very nearly a pyrrhic victory, it seems. Geralt brushes himself off and looks at his surroundings and sees that the monster and him tore the forest up a bit during their tussle in the night. He's walking back to his camp when he spots it, a fallen tree, and next to it, his lark. Geralt races over, and sees that the tree is pinning the lark to the ground by one of it's wings. The lark opens it's eyes and chirps frantically at him, kicking it's little legs and batting it's free wing erratically. Geralt manages to get the lark unstuck and mends it at camp. He plans to see to the lark's healing, and then release it back into the wild. This is complicated by the lark turning into a man in the middle of his camp later that night.

[disposal-blueeee]

VARGASTOBER - day 2 : comfort

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️