I Aim To Inspire Creativity

Want to write but don't know what you WANT to write? Come here to find writing prompts! Submit, find or request! Go forth and conquer the writing world. /// I’m Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated on ao3!

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Hello! Thank you so much for your wonderful blog! 💖 Could I ask you to come up with a couple of prompts, exchanges or even situations, for a pairing dynamic Noisy One/Silent One? Noisy One suddenly makes Silent One’s heart beat faster with their infinite liveliness; and then Silent One gives Noisy One the peace and rest they need — but that’s all I’ve come up with for now, and some inspiration for particular scenes would be so nice! Actually, any ideas related to this dynamic will be greatly appreciated, and I’ll be so happy if you don’t mind to help!

Hello! So sorry for the delayed reply; I’m not often on this blog anymore and tumblr consistently fails to give me my notifs 😅

-Mornings! Sweet, syrupy, lazy mornings where noisy one is settled, still. Silent one gets them all bundled up in the blankets and sharing sleepy morning kisses. Everything is hazy and soft and quiet; a tender sort of silence before the city has woken up. It’s how the noisy one recharges and cleanses; it helps them be their vibrant, lively self

-In turn, the silent one just basks in their noisy one’s vibrancy; in the way they speak, the way they move their hands when they talk, the furrow between their brow when they’re upset, the way they walk. It’s what helps the silent one grow; they’re the sun flower to the noisy ones sunshine

-the silent one is actually the one who says the more meaningful things when it’s just the two of them; they talk about their feelings openly and freely, and while they don’t tend to talk often, when they do, it always means something. The noisy one has the opposite problem; they talk a lot without really saying anything, and tend to ramble (though the silent one finds it rather endearing), but struggle talking about their feelings. They mask, hiding themselves behind their own bubbly, overflowing personality

-sometimes, they’re both too much for each other. Sometimes, their personalities clash. And that’s okay! They’ve learned how to work it out, whether they just spend a day or two away from one another to reset and recharge, or they do something both of them enjoy, etc. They don’t NEED each other, but they WANT each other, and that’s why they make it work. Because they love one another, and it’s hard work, and that’s alright

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I always see soulmate AU’s where it’s the first words your soulmate will say to you written on your arm but GUYS, what if it’s the LAST words your soulmate says to you that’s on your arm?

So many possibilities.

Like, you’ve been married to your partner for six years and your partner gets cancer and on their dying bed says something like “I knew you’d stick around” and then you just know because it’s on the inside of your arm.

Or you’re dating someone and you get in a huge fight and they say “fuck you and your god damned cat, too” and then leave and you just realize who they are.

OR just before you die, you say “knew I could count on you, babe” and you SEE THE LOOK ON THEIR FACE and realize who you are at the same time they do, but then you come back as a ghost and try to take it back but no matter what you say they can’t hear you.

Imagine it.

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“You saw something in me. And I saw the world in you.”

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Okay but, imagine.

We all have that one toy that we’ve saved since we were children- you know the one.

The one that’s worn from all the times you’ve clutched it to your chest as you slept; the one that’s sitting somewhere in your bedroom still because you could never bring yourself to throw it out; that one stuffed animal that’s missing an eye from when your dog got to it or the toy car that’s lost a wheel from too many adventures across too rough ground.

You’ve spent the best and worst days of your life with that damn thing, running through open fields, knowing somehow that your simple little toy was more than just that, that it was special, that some day, you would need it.

It’s been years since you buried it away in your closet.

But today, you take it out.

Because today, you lost your mother to the cancer she had been battling for months.

Because today, you lost your job and your best friend never answered your call.

Because today, you need something special.

So you go home, curl up in bed and clutch your childhood toy close, tears tracking down your cheeks as you close your eyes and try to breathe.

And then it happens.

It just seems like a burst of imagination, something made up, one of those things that you hear about in stories.

But then it happens again, lightning behind your eyes slowly giving way to sunlight.

You open your eyes and your bedroom is still dark and dreary and you are still alone.

So you close them again and watch the memories unfold, clutching your special something closer, watching in your minds eye as you race across the dirt path, your toy held tightly in one hand as you throw yourself into your mothers arms- she had just gotten home from a weekend business trip, you remember that day. She brought you a little snow globe as a souvenir.

And, like a slideshow, the memories come and go, and you remember thinking that each and every one of those days, whether it be the picnic at the park with your family or the time your parents took you out for ice cream, was the happiest day of your life.

And when it all ends, and you open your eyes, you can breathe again, and the room doesn’t seem so dark and you don’t feel so alone.

You knew, of course, that you would need your special toy one day. You didn’t know why, but now you do.

That thing was with you through it all- a constant in the ever-changing universe.

And somehow, someway, it seemed to have remembered what you couldn’t, what was just fuzzy in your mind, old days that couldn’t matter now but somehow do.

Because your special toy, it’s given you back the happiest days of your life on the worst day of your life.

It doesn’t fix everything.

You’re still heartbroken, you’re still lonely, you’re still sad, but now you’re not alone.

Somehow, this simple little thing, it gave you a ray of sunshine, a little spot of happiness, of remembrance of better days, and now…now you know that you will be okay.

And, someday, you are.

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Okay but like, imagine it.

Person A of your OTP is a superhero, and Person B is a super villain, both of whom happen to reside in the same small town; neither of them know who the other is outside of the mask.

So when Person A meets Person B at the local coffee shop one day, neither of them think much of it. They hit if off immediately when Person A tells a Star Wars joke and Person B counters with a Star Trek joke, and suddenly they’re in a heated argument about which one is better and why.

It’s not love at first sight.

It’s more of a gradual decline that neither of them realizes is happening until one day, Person A stumbles into the kitchen at 11 a.m., their hair a disaster, dried drool on their cheek and morning breath, and Person B thinks “I’m going to marry this person some day”.

Of course, all good things come to an end.

Person B decides they’ve been too calm, too domestic lately, so lies about a business trip so they can blow a few places up under the guise of their super villain, maybe rob a few banks so they can get Person A something nice (like a ring, maybe).

(Person B gets the ring after they steal money from the bank to buy the ring. But hey, they still paid. They’re doing this right).

Only, Person A is in one of those buildings (Person B checked, no one should’ve been in there, but by the time they blow it up, it’s too late).

Instead of Person A stumbling out of the wreckage, it’s that ridiculous hero that’s been thwarting Person B for as long as they can remember, and Person B just loses it- screams to the heavens because they just killed the one person who could ever love someone like them. And then they attack. Ruthlessly, without a care in the world because suddenly, Person B doesn’t have anyone to fight for, and a person with nothing to lose is the most dangerous kind.

That was their downfall.

When the hero pins Person B to the ground, bruised and bloodied, and grabs for Person B’s mask, they don’t even fight it.

The hero stares and Person B thinks, this is it. This is my time. Perhaps Person A will forgive me if I die too.

Only, when the hero makes a move, it’s towards their own mask, and when it comes off, Person B is staring up at their lover, and doesn’t know if they want to scream or cry or laugh because this, this is not what they expected.

So Person B crawls painstakingly to one knee, pulls out the ring with bloodied fingers and asks,

“Will you marry me?”

And Person A cries. They just break down and cry, and then slap Person B and then kiss them, and then tell them “yes” a million times over because while they’re not conventional, they’re in love and that’s what matters.

They get married seven months later in the local coffee shop, with the Star Wars theme song playing as they walk down the isle.

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Okay, but like, imagine.

It didn’t start with a bang.

Oh no, it started with an idea.

A concept.

It started when some little dreamer saw a shooting star and thought, “what if it’s something more?”

Us humans, we’ve never been good at leaving things alone and when we learned that maybe those things we saw shooting across the night sky weren’t dying stars, but a means of transportation?

Well, that was no different.

When news got out that there might be life on other planets, that maybe we weren’t as alone in the universe as we thought, we decided communication had to be the next step. What else could we do?

Other living creatures on planets we hadn’t had the ability to visit?

The temptation was too great.

Of course there was fear, there always was, but that had never stopped us before.

So we went for it.

And when the stars rained down and destroyed our homes, we had the audacity to act surprised.

And that little dreamer, who thought it could be something more but knew that pursual would lead to something much more than we could handle, they watched and mourned and hurt as their dreams got a little bit smaller, a little less hopeful until one day, they weren’t the dreamer anymore, but rather the broken.

Death and destruction would do that to a person.

But one day, the broken met someone, someone who could still call themselves a dreamer. Someone whose dreams only got bigger and more hopeful, whose optimism grew even as the light diminished and the world crumbled around them.

And this dreamer, they took that broken shell of a person, and they filled them with hope and optimism, and together they asked;

“What if we could save the world?”

They didn’t start with bang.

They started with an idea.

A concept.

They started when two little dreamers thriving among a sea of destruction and desperation saw the shattered world and thought, “what if we could save it?”

Us humans, we’ve never been known to go out easily.

We fight, and we conquer.

This time was no different.

We may stumble, we may fall, but we do not give in.

It only took one little dreamer to spark an idea, but it took two to start a revolution.

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Okay but like, imagine it.

They’ve been in love since they were twelve and too young to know what love meant.

At that time, they thought love meant sharing popsicles and buying each other stuffed animals and watching Finding Nemo on their living room couch, passing a bowl of popcorn back and forth.

They were best friends, and spent every waking moment at the others side, and even time couldn’t change that.

They got older, and their feelings got stronger, until one night Junior year, they found themselves making out in the school bathroom during the Homecoming football game.

They didn’t talk about it for three weeks.

At least, not until it happened again in the back of a friend’s pickup.

Best friends turned into more, and more turned into lovers.

Love became messy makeout sessions in bathrooms, quiet arguments in empty bedrooms and drinking too much at parties neither approved of just to get a rise out of one another.

They get married fresh out of high school- everyone tells them it won’t last, that they’re too young, that they’ve made some horrible mistake and they know that maybe, in the future, that might be true. But right now, still baby-faced and innocent, naive to the hurt of the world, it’s all they need.

They prove everyone wrong.

Years later, as they’re celebrating their fiftieth anniversary, they realize what love means- it means sharing popsicles even though they both have their own, buying each other stuffed animals that neither of them really needs, and watching Finding Nemo on their living room couch, passing a bowl of popcorn back and forth even though they both complain about the kernels getting stuck in their teeth.

Love means messy makeout sessions in their bathroom just before they take a shower, quiet arguments in empty bedrooms when they can’t decide what movie to watch before bed, and drinking too much at gatherings neither approved of just to get a rise out of one another so that they could leave early and go cuddle at home.

Simply put, they learned that love meant dealing with all of those things and never wanting to stop.

Love meant wanting to do all those things forever, for that one special person, and that was that. 

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Can I ask for a older!harry prompt please? If no, then I understand and sorry to other. If yes, then thank you very much.

Lots of love

No bother at all, but I’m afraid I don’t know enough about Harry to do this prompt any justice. I’m sorry!

Anyone else who might be better equipped to do this prompt, please add onto this post!!!

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Almost at 9,000 followers everyone!! Can we get there?

Thank you to all of you lovely people 🥺

Don’t forget my ask box is still open! Come send me all the things! 💜

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Ladies and gents and everyone else, my ask box is open! I can’t promise I’ll get to everyone’s requests, life is a bit crazy right now and I’ve gone down an Umbrella Academy ao3 spiral, however I would love to see some prompts from you guys!!!

I haven’t forgotten about any of you lovely people, so please don’t hesitate to send submissions or requests! (And for anyone who is searching for some UA fics, I’ve got a few! 😉 check out Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated on ao3, I’d love it if some of you read my work!)

I love you all! Stay safe and stay healthy! 💜

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"I guess I'm Byronic"

"You don't always get to choose"

"Life is like this one merry-go-round which goes faster than i want it to, It's Scary sometimes."

"It takes great Courage to do what you are doing"

"Let's never meet again"

"I'd always remember you by the first time we met and not the last goodbye"

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Okay but like, imagine.

You’re living alone in your small studio apartment, surrounded by lush green plants and black-and-white pencil sketches you like to create in your spare time.

And across the street, there’s a person.

They’re sitting outside the local café, protected by the weather-worn awning, and they’re cradling a steaming mug between both of their hands, looking relaxed and content as they watch the rain pitter-patter in puddles collecting on the sidewalk, a stray lock of hair escaping the hat that’s perched off-kilter on their head, their oversized glasses slipping down their nose.

They’re beautiful.

And so, sitting alone in your apartment, you begin to draw. A rough sketch, nothing artful, nothing worth anything, but there’s something about that person that makes you want to- no, need to- remember.

Relationships had never been for you- you hadn’t been in one, you didn’t need one. You have a job you love, wonderful friends, and a dog that likes to curl up on your bed with you during thunderstorms.

You don’t need a significant other to be happy, because you already are, so why bother looking?

But.

Sometimes, when it’s quiet and dark, and your only company is your softly snoring dog and the stars twinkling in the night sky, sometimes you wondered.

And then you drift off to sleep wondering, and sometimes you dream; but it doesn’t matter, because in the morning you wake up and go back out to live the life you love.

But the person is there almost every day, sometimes with a book but mostly with a tablet, and they’re just as beautiful when they’re wearing sweatpants and a stained tee-shirt as they are every other day that they’re not.

So you keep drawing.

But one day, you get brave.

One day on a bright and sunny afternoon, you go down to the coffeeshop, armed with your sketchbook and sharpened pencil, and you wait, idly doodling passerby.

And you wait.

And you wait.

And when you realize they’re not coming, cursing your own stupidity, cheeks flushed in embarrassment, you try to leave, clutching your sketchbook to your chest to rush out but-

But fate has a funny way of doing things, and you crash into them, sending your sketchbook- and you- tumbling to the ground, open and bared, loose papers floating lazily through the air.

The mortification- there’s nothing like it, but the apology dies in your throat when you look up.

They’re blushing, wide eyed and shocked but they’re smiling, too, like the first ray of light after a rainy morning, and they shyly turn their tablet to face you and- and it’s you, drawn in bright colors and swirling lines and it’s absolutely beautiful, and you want to tell them that but when you meet their eyes, it’s like lightning, electricity zinging down your spine and lighting up your nerves because-

Because-

Oh.

Oh.

It’s you.

There’s a lot of words for what you are- mates, paired, match, fated, the list goes on, but you’ve always liked the more old fashioned term: soulmates.

And with a soft smile blooming on your face like flowers opening up to the sun, you reach out for the hand they offer, using it to level yourself up until you’re flush with them, face to face for the first time, warmth blossoming in your chest.

“Hi.”

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Okay but like, imagine it.

They’ve been in love since they were twelve and too young to know what love meant.

At that time, they thought love meant sharing popsicles and buying each other stuffed animals and watching Finding Nemo on their living room couch, passing a bowl of popcorn back and forth.

They were best friends, and spent every waking moment at the others side, and even time couldn’t change that.

They got older, and their feelings got stronger, until one night Junior year, they found themselves making out in the school bathroom during the Homecoming football game.

They didn’t talk about it for three weeks.

At least, not until it happened again in the back of a friend’s pickup.

Best friends turned into more, and more turned into lovers.

Love became messy makeout sessions in bathrooms, quiet arguments in empty bedrooms and drinking too much at parties neither approved of just to get a rise out of one another.

They get married fresh out of high school- everyone tells them it won’t last, that they’re too young, that they’ve made some horrible mistake and they know that maybe, in the future, that might be true. But right now, still baby-faced and innocent, naive to the hurt of the world, it’s all they need.

They prove everyone wrong.

Years later, as they’re celebrating their fiftieth anniversary, they realize what love means- it means sharing popsicles even though they both have their own, buying each other stuffed animals that neither of them really needs, and watching Finding Nemo on their living room couch, passing a bowl of popcorn back and forth even though they both complain about the kernels getting stuck in their teeth.

Love means messy makeout sessions in their bathroom just before they take a shower, quiet arguments in empty bedrooms when they can’t decide what movie to watch before bed, and drinking too much at gatherings neither approved of just to get a rise out of one another so that they could leave early and go cuddle at home.

Simply put, they learned that love meant dealing with all of those things and never wanting to stop.

Love meant wanting to do all those things forever, for that one special person, and that was that. 

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Okay but like, imagine.

They’re sitting alone in their bedroom, and they’re cold.

It’s been storming for an hour and a half, and something hot and uncomfortable has been squirming in their chest since the moment they locked the door behind themselves, choking on their own tears, throat convulsing around words they can’t get out.

It’s dark, and it’s lonely, and each breath feels like knives in their chest, stabbing and tearing and twisting with the staccato of their heartbeat, with each desperate inhale-exhale-inhale.

The only thing left of their other half, their soulmate, their rayo de sol, was written in smudged tear tracks down their face, in shattered mirrors and torn paperwork and words crueler than the knives ripping them apart from the inside out.

They’re sitting alone in their bedroom, and they’re cold.

It’s 2 am and the rain is pounding at their windows and thunder is rattling the floorboards and lighting is crackling across the night sky.

They’re alone, and they’ve got daggers in their heart and ice in their soul and they’re lost in a way they haven’t ever been before and there’s not enough air in the room for their next ragged inhale-exhale-inhale.

Their lover is gone, their apartment is a mess, and there’s nothing but pain to show for the years of hard work that they spent turning their lives from a you-and-me into a we.

They’re sitting alone in their bedroom, and they’re cold.

The lightning cracks across the sky and for a split second, there’s light.

The ancient radiator in the corner of the room rumbles and grumbles to life.

The room plunges back into darkness, the rain gentles, and the next inhale-exhale-inhale comes easier.

They’re sitting alone in their bedroom, and they’re cold.

But it’s been two and a half years, and the sun is shining, golden rays casting light on dust floating lazily through the air.

The plants in their window sill are vibrant and green, the flowers on their nightstand swaying gently to the breeze of their ceiling fan, and the dog is running happy circles in the back yard.

Each inhale-exhale-inhale flows smoothly through their chest.

The windows have been thrown wide open, letting in fresh air and warm afternoon sun, and they’re singing loud and off key as they clean up the glass from the hot pink coffee mug they accidentally dropped this morning, and they’re alone and the breeze is chilly but the radiator manages to still splutter back to life, even after all this time.

Sometimes, the darkness comes creeping back in and their lungs constrict and their throat convulses and the radiator doesn’t turn on.

But those days are few and far between, and they got the tools to fix the radiator months ago.

Like flowers blooming in the spring and rain drip-dropping gently in the creek behind their house; like the trees spilling vibrant blossoms across the grass and warm rays of sunlight causing broken rainbows to fall across their creaky floorboards, they are at peace.

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“Is it okay to cry?”

Oh, darling, of course it’s okay to cry. You can cry if you’re grown, you can cry if you’re young.

Hell, you can cry because you’re a person.

Sometimes, life isn’t fair. It’s sad and it hurts you and sometimes, it makes you cry.

Some days, you’ll cry so hard you can’t breathe. Some days, your eyes will be so dry, you couldn’t even if you tried.

But some days...some days, you’ll be so happy you won’t even know why you felt like crying in the first place.

You see, my love, when your tears fall, they help you grow.

They plant little invisible flowers around you, sprouting wherever they land, until one day, you’re surrounded by gardens.

Sometimes, you’ll still cry, even with your bright gardens and your warm sunlight, but that’s okay.

After all, flowers need water to bloom.

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Prompts about a 15 year old working at a day camp filled with kids who don’t listen age range between 5-8.

-I’ve been chasing this group of naked five year olds around their cabin for half an hour because they refuse to put their bathing suits on to play in the lake. An older counselor came in, laughed for ten minutes straight and then left again

-It’s my first day at work and there’s already been two food fights, one child wet their pants, two others tried to jump off the highest point of the playground, three went off into the woods without asking and another is currently in the lake fully dressed. I’ve never been more stressed in my life. I’ve also never had more fun

Dialogue:

-“Please, please, please just come down from the tree. I’ll give you a cookie!”

“No!”

“Candy?”

“No!”

“....$20?”

“....okay!”

-“Lets go get your stuff, now; your parents are almost here.”

“I don’t wanna go!”

“How ‘bout this: if you listen now, I’ll give you an extra cupcake with lunch next time I see you.”

“....deal.”

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Hello! Can you do a cybernetic promt in which a cyborg fall in love with a human?

Hello! Can you dm me with more details? Did you want a long imagine prompt or multiples?