#breakup prompts
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Random Prompts 18
"I love you." "I know you do. I love you too. But we both know this isn't working."
"I can't stay." "I know." "I'll call you." "I know."
"I miss you, sometimes. When it's late and I'm by myself. I shouldn't have called, but you didn't pick up, so I guess it's fine."
"Did I do the right thing?" "I don't know." "I feel so lost without them, but it wasn't working, and..." "It's okay to cry, if you need to."
"It's been two years and you haven't dated anyone since?" "That's none of your fucking business."
"They're married." "What?" "They got married."
"I... Hey." "Hi."
"I hate them, I hate them so fucking much, I wish I never met them!" "You know you don't mean that." "I wish I did!"
"I'm sick of crying. I'm sick of missing them."
"I loved them, dad/mom. I loved them so much and it wasn't enough."
#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writing#my prompts#prompt list#prompts#conversation prompts#otp prompts#sentence prompts#otp prompt#dialouge prompts#dialogue prompts#dialogue prompt#breakup prompts#lowkey made myself cry writing these
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— longing for someone prompts ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
im bathing in angst rn, enjoy!
them haunting your mind constantly, but are you even in theirs?
unconciously searching for them wherever, whenever
itching to text them, yet the guilt of pestering them hits
your stomach being on edge whenever you see someone who has a similar figure to theirs
regularly scouring their social media for any updates
them acting so sweetly which turns out to just be a cruel dream
envy creeping up your throat whenever other people hangout with them
taking them off your mind by hanging out with your friends, just for you to only see bits of their personality in your friends
weeping frustruatedly on your knees because you can't stop recalling your memories with them
surrendering to your insecurities; perhaps they truly are better off without you
hopelessly persuading yourself that you were able to go on with life before knowing them, so you can definitely do it after they left
urging the universe to see them one last time before letting them go (it never happens anyways)
"if anyone is listening, please let our paths intertwine again before the day I take my last breath"
#imagine your otp#otp prompts#dialogue prompt#otp ideas#romance prompts#writing scenarios#angst dialogue#light angst#missing someone prompts#angst prompts#writing prompts#wow i was really feeling myself with this one#idk if this is platonic or romantic rip#breakup prompts#heartbreak prompts
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Heartbroken Dialogue Prompts That Will Make Your Readers Cry Hard
What's a character without a little heartbreak?
do note that these are my original dialogues, credit @asmoshywrites
"All it took was one situationship to lose faith in love."
"I can't stay strong knowing that all this was a sick game."
"Don't you get it?"
"I want to hold hands while staring at the stars, laugh at
your lame jokes, share a milkshake, but you left me, jerk."
"All along I was a pawn for you to play with."
"It was silly of me to hold out your favourite flowers in the rain while I watched you kiss someone else."
"You lost the spark in your eyes, princess."
"I wasn't a hole in your pocket that needed stitching. I didn't need fixing. Hell! I wasn't even your problem in the first place."
"It was her all along, right?"
"There was a time when you were my favourite chapter, but now all I can think about is burning the book to its core."
"Look at yourself! Time was supposed to heal you, not turn you into a monster."
"You were once my most wonderful dream, but now you turned into my greatest nightmare."
"I rather kill myself than stay with you. You cause someone with life dread to die."
My personal favourite is 1, 3, 5, 7. What about you?
#writers#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writeblr#writing inspiration#dialogue prompt#creative writing#prompt list#otp prompts#ask box prompts#romance prompts#enemies to lovers prompts#rivals to lovers prompts#heartbreak#heartbreak prompts#breakup prompts#romance writing prompts
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Random Prompt #76
"I don't even know who you are anymore, and it breaks my heart every time I look at you."
#writing prompts#random prompt#dialogue prompt#creative writing#story prompt#writeblr#prompts#angst prompts#argument prompts#breakup prompts
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Galex without any feeling at all
"Cheers, mate. That'll be all then." George rubs his hands together emphatically, like something out of a business manual, and calls for the cheque.
What the fuck?
"You're taking this surprisingly well." Alex tries to not let the bitter acridity colour his tone, but fails. Alex has mulled over this decision for weeks, agonised over it, and quite honestly -- ignored it as long as he could, and here's George his boyf his now ex-boyfriend of 4 years ordering a Sunday croissant like it's nothing. He showed more emotion when the Queen died, and the Queen didn't fuck him Wednesdays and Fridays after dinner.
"Should I chuck a butter bun and cause a scene if that makes you feel better? I mean, I saw it coming from a mile away."
"You saw it coming from a mile away?" Alex sounds incredulous. George's stupid fucking shirt collar is popped half open, and in any other case Alex would've leaned forward to fix it. Can't do that anymore.
George shrugs. "Since dinner at Lando's. I was wondering when you'd bring it up. I've gone over every scenario, I made a list, you could even say I pre-grieved. Sorry."
Dinner at Lando's was four fucking months ago.
"We were fine at Lando's."
"You talked about moving cross country for a promotion."
"I-- what? When? That wasn't even serious."
"Sounded pretty serious."
"You're really going to --"
"Your cheque, sir." The waiter interrupts them, and Alex's head is spinning at the revelation George made a fucking list. And what, Alex has been getting a failing grade? It's so much worse because he had no indication things were bad since Lando's, didn't know George got his fucking grieving done out of the way. He slumps in his seat, George swiping his card.
"Listen, we can spin in circles all we want. It won't change anything. We didn't work out. It happens. Have a nice life, Alexander. We can email on how to divide the flat."
George puts his prick sunglasses on -- sunglasses that make him look like a prick -- and gets up. Alex registers a second too late that George had hesitated for a moment, as if to shake hands or reach out to touch him, before thinking better of it. Alex shakes his head in disbelief, so much for an amicable breakup. An email. 4 years condensed to an email, delivered in fucking corporate speak.
What he doesn't know is George's eyes stinging behind the sunglasses, crescent moons in his palm where he's dug his fingernails into, trying to recite the script.
#breakup prompts#evil evil prompt#ohhhh you thought I was gonna write alexander without feelings 👹#galex#f1 rpf#my ficlets#blorbocedes ask
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(sad) lyrics to inspire you from folklore - taylor swift ♡
by: @ncoincidences
for: @screnwriter ’s birthday! ♡
if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?
you knew the hero died, so what’s the movie for?
some things you just can’t speak about
a friend to all is a friend to none
chase two girls, lose the one
i knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs
but i’m still on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you
you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else
you know i didn’t want to have to haunt you
i knew i’d curse you for the longest time
look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
who knows if i never showed up, what could’ve been
you know damn well for you i would ruin myself a million little times
the worst thing that i ever did was what i did to you
don’t want no other shade of blue — but you; no other sadness would do
i remember thinkin' i had you
and if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you
i loved you, i swear i loved you, 'til my dying day
you had to kill me but it killed you all the same
even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me?
my barren land, i am ash from your fire
you didn’t even hear me out
you’re not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending now?
you never even gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs)
i didn’t have it in myself to go with grace
you weren’t mine to lose, ’cause you were never mine
i never learned to read your mind, i couldn’t turn things around
look at this idiotic fool that you made me
and if i’m dead to you, why are you at the wake?
i still got love for you
i’ve been having a hard time adjusting, i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting
all this time, we always walked a very thin line
would it be enough if i could never give you peace?
it’s hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you
you turned into your worst fears
i had a marvelous time ruinin' everything
you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones
so i’m leavin' out the side door
my only one, my kingdom come undone, you have beaten my heart
so step right out, there is no amount of crying i can do for you
you were my town, now i’m in exile, seein' you out
#song lyric prompt#writing prompts#ncoincidences#folklore#prompt list#writing ideas#writing inspiration#writing#rp meme#sentence starters#angst prompts#breakup prompts#song prompts
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3 brocedes?
carefully negotiated
“I want the flat in Budapest then,” Nico said, hands reaching for the piles of paperwork to deftly extract the sales agreement, “if you’re taking the one in Spain.”
“Sure.”
Lewis was trying his best to be agreeable, leant purposefully back on the sofa. His therapist had told him that he often defaulted to having closed off body language in difficult conversations. It was perfectly normal, but it made him all too aware of his limbs; open shoulders, legs not crossed, hands loose.
He had few demands for this meeting: the apartment in Spain, the house in California, two of the Mercedes-Benz cars. Simple things. He was trying to not be so materialistic these days.
The rest was up to Nico.
Everything about their negotiations felt like stepping carefully on ice that was cracking just under the surface.
This meeting even, hosted in their London flat which they shared but just barely. It was as close to neutral territory as they could get, this grey, not lived in apartment that was still filled with the styling from the original real estate company. There were only hints of either of them inside, a dog bed for Roscoe, two almost new toothbrushes sitting intertwined on the bathroom countertop, bedside tables with miscellaneous rubbish in the drawers.
“And of course,” Nico paused here, glancing up at Lewis and then away again, “there’s Monaco.”
Monaco. It did all lead back there in the end.
Lewis could still remember the first time Nico had invited him there with his family, trying not to look starstruck as Keke hosted his famous friends, leaning over the balcony to stare at the Formula 1 cars as they raced around the narrow streets. Golden sun-kissed memories melting on his tongue, Nico’s sweaty palm against his, kissing under the warm cover of night with clumsy mouths.
“You can have Monaco.”
Nico startled, visibly. That was extreme for him. His hands seemed to flutter for a moment before resettling, white doves on a parapet.
“Monaco? Really?”
Lewis shrugged.
“Have it man.”
Nico was staring at him unabashedly, his perfect brow furrowed. He had the same snooty tilt to his mouth that he’d had since the day Lewis met him. He could almost sense Nico’s brain turning itself over, twisting itself into knots to try to understand him.
There had been a point in time where he’d hated Nico’s examination of him just as much as he’d enjoyed it. It was strange to realise now, as he stared back at him, all pale eyes and tight mouthed, that his stomach wasn’t twisting. In fact, there was nothing at all.
“You love Monaco.”
Nico said it like it was a fact, like it was one of the fundamental truths he knew about him: Lewis loved Roscoe, Lewis drove Formula 1 cars, Lewis loved Monaco.
It was drizzling outside, fat sporadic grey circles beginning to fill up the sidewalk. He watched as there was a flurry of umbrellas raised, people ducking under cover, hurrying to their next appointments.
“Jeez,” he tried to laugh it off; it didn’t land quite right in the stifling silence of the room, “as if there aren’t places going all the time. It isn’t that serious man.”
The Monaco apartment had the most of the both of them. They’d spend days lounging in the sun on the couch watching something stupid on the TV, sipping coffee on the balcony, Nico’s bony ankles twining around his as he read loudly from the newspaper. Lewis had felt comfortable there, like he hadn’t in a lot of places in a long time. It was hard to settle in a job that took you around the world almost every week.
Nico reached for the pile of papers once more, fingers skimming down until he pulled at the particular folder. He paused, looking back at Lewis. He had a strange unreadable look on his face. A year ago Lewis might’ve known what he was thinking.
“You’re sure?”
For the first time in this whole endeavour, Lewis let himself feel just the slightest bit annoyed. He knew what he was doing.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
#it's about leaving yourself behind on purpose....#brocedes#nico rosberg#lh44#breakup prompts#also like. send me more of these if u want xoxoxoxo#my fic#asks#f1 rpf
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Newly divorced maxiel 😱
11. newly divorced
Daniel was expecting Max, but not the cat carrier under his arm. Jimmy and Sassy are both crammed inside, coiled together in a sleek, speckled knot.
“Hello, Daniel,” says Max, tonelessly. He shoulders past Daniel, clutching the cat carrier, and sets it down inside. Jimmy—or Sassy—no, it’s Jimmy—flattens his head against the mesh door of the carrier. Max pokes his little forehead with one finger and stoops to unzip the door. Jimmy and Sassy scamper outside as soon as Max unzips a gap large enough and disappear inside Daniel’s house. He doesn't own any cat food.
“Are they gonna be okay?” says Daniel. There are other things he should say to Max, probably. “There are cows, so like. Make sure the cows don’t step on them?”
“Haha,” says Max. There’s mirth in his eyes. Or maybe Daniel is stupid enough that he’s imagining it. “The cows are outside the house, Daniel.” He glances around the foyer. Daniel’s house in Australia is cluttered with the things he’s accumulated since retiring. His biking helmet is posed on top of a banister, and his cowboy boots are spilling off the shoe rack.
“Thank you for inviting me,” says Max, stilted and polite. "I need a little time away, I think."
“You know,” says Daniel. Max looks good, for someone recently dumped by his soon to be ex-wife and partner of ten years. “Anytime. Come in. Come on.”
#i think you were thinking ex-husbands but my brain was not braining on that concept... anyway aussie farmhouse with fluffy cows my beloved!!#maxiel#breakup prompts
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Have you ever wanted 70 angst-laden prompts? Well, here you go, and they’re all lyrics by The Smiths, the masters of the subject. (Yeah I could have done way more but I thought 70 was probably more than enough)
They’re sorted into several catagories: Loneliness, Breakups, Longing, Love, Questions, Cruelty and Corruption, Statements, Struggling, and Sex. I also included the song names so even if you don’t know the song, you can look it up.
However, the categories are just a guide- use them however you want! Have fun!
LONELINESS
The Queen Is Dead
-Life is very long when you’re lonely.
Never Had No One Ever
-Now I’m outside your house, I’m alone.
I Know It’s Over
-If you’re so very clever, then why are you on your own tonight?
Rushholme Ruffians
-I might walk home alone/But my faith in love is still devout.
Asleep
-Sing me to sleep/I don’t want to wake up on my own anymore.
* * * * * * * * * *
BREAKUPS
I Know It’s Over
-I know it’s over, still I cling. I don’t know where else I can go.
Unhappy Birthday
-From the one you left behind.
Jeane
-We tried, and we failed.
Miserable Lie
-There’s something against us/It’s not time.
You’ve Got Everything Now
-You’ve got everything now, and what a terrible mess I’ve made of my life.
Still Ill
-Although I ended up with sore lips/It just wasn’t like the old days any more.
Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before
-I still love you/Only slightly less than I used to
A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Ours
-Oh, but don’t mention love, I’d hate the pain of the strain all over again.
* * * * * * * * * *
LONGING
Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others
-Send me your pillow, the one that you dream on
Reel Around The Fountain
-I dreamt about you last night and I fell out of bed twice.
Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
-So for once in my life/Let me get what I want/Lord knows, it would be the first time.
I Want The One I Can’t Have
-I want the one that I can’t have/And it’s driving me mad.
Well I Wonder
-Well I wonder, do you hear me when you sleep?/I hoarsely cry.
-Well I wonder, do you see me when we pass?/I half-die/Please keep me in mind.
How Soon Is Now?
-See, I’ve already waited too long/And now my hope is gone.
Half A Person
-Call me morbid, call me pale/I’ve spent six years on your trail.
* * * * * * * * * *
LOVE
There Is A Light That Never Goes Out
-To die by your side/Well, the pleasure and the privilege is mine.
The Hand That Rocks The Cradle
-I’ll still be by your side, for you are all that matters.
-Together we lie, together we pray.
What Difference Does It Make?
-I’d leap in front of a flying bullet for you
Hand In Glove
-No, it’s not like any other love/This one is different because it’s us.
-If they dare touch a hair on your head/I’ll fight to the last breath.
Work Is A Four-Letter Word
-If you stay, I’ll stay right beside you.
Unloveable
-I don’t have much in my life/But take it, it’s yours.
Shoplifters Of The World
-Learn to love me, assemble the ways/Now, today, tomorrow, and always.
How Soon Is Now?
-I am human and I need to be loved/Just like everybody else does.
Reel Around The Fountain
-People see no worth in you, I do.
* * * * * * * * * *
QUESTIONS
Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now
-Why do I give valuable time/To people who don’t care if I live or die?
The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
-And when you want to live, how do you start?
Miserable Lie
-What do we get for our trouble and pain?
Girlfriend in a Coma
-Do you really think she’ll pull through?
Paint a Vulgar Picture
-You could have said no, if you wanted to/You could have walked away, couldn’t you?
When Will You Accept Yourself?
-Anything is hard to find/When you will not open your eyes/When will you accept yourself?
Sweet and Tender Hooligan
-Will you free me? Will you find me?
London
-And do you think you’ve made the right decision this time?
Panic
-I wonder to myself/Could life ever be sane again?
Barbarism Begins At Home
-Why? Because of what you are.
* * * * * * * * * *
CRUELTY AND CORRUPTION
Frankly, Mr Shankly
-It pays my way and it corrodes my soul.
Miserable Lie
-You have corrupted my innocent mind.
These Things Take Time
-And you gave me something that I won’t forget too soon.
Vicar In A Tutu
-Get your vile soul dry cleaned.
Sweet and Tender Hooligan
-And he said that he’d never, never do it again/And of course he won’t, not until the next time.
What Difference Does It Make?
-Heavy words are so lightly thrown.
I Don’t Owe You Anything
-You owe me something/Repay me now.
I Won’t Share You
-Has the Perrier gone straight to my head?/Or is life sick and cruel instead?
* * * * * * * * * *
STATEMENTS
These Things Take Time
-You will leave me behind.
I Know It’s Over
-It takes strength to be gentle and kind.
Rubber Ring
-But they were the only ones who ever stood by you.
Back To The Old House
-There’s too many bad memories.
Girl Afraid
-I’ll never make that mistake again.
* * * * * * * * * *
STRUGGLING
What’s The World?
-I’m going under/You can feel them pulling me down.
I Keep Mine Hidden
-Hate, love and war/Force emotions to the fore/But not for me, of course/I keep mine hidden.
You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet, Baby
-You must suffer and cry for a longer time/You just haven’t earned it yet, baby.
That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore
-It’s too close to home/And it’s too near the bone.
Well I Wonder
-Gasping, but somehow still alive/This is the fierce last stand of all I am.
You’ve Got Everything Now
-I’ve seen you smile, but I’ve never really heard you laugh.
I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish
-I started something/And now I’m not too sure.
Sheila Take A Bow
-How can someone so young sing words so sad?
* * * * * * * * * *
SEX
Handsome Devil
-And I would like to give you/What I think you’re asking for.
-I crack the whip/And you skip/But you deserve it.
-And let me get your head/On the conjugal bed.
Pretty Girls Make Graves
-Give in to lust, give up to lust.
Stretch Out And Wait
-What I do know is we’re here and it’s now/So stretch out and wait.
Ask
-So if there’s something you’d like to try/Ask me, I won’t say no, how could I?
Reel Around The Fountain
-15 minutes with you, oh, I wouldn’t say no.
#writers on tumblr#writing prompt#writing inspiration#prompts#angst prompts#hurt/comfort prompts#lyric prompts#love prompts#breakup prompts#he squeaks
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Hehehe here comes the pain. How about
"i was so sleep-deprived after the night shift the training/competition that i climbed into bed with you (and you just rolled with it)"
for Viktor/Yuuri? 👀
His body aches. His muscles ache and his bones ache and his head ache and his heart too but he's trying to not feel this particular traitor. His brain aches, and somehow his eardrums too from too high blood pressure, so Yuuri can't listen to whatever his brain is telling him, and isn't that a blessing? He should consider raising his blood pressure more often so that his brain doesn't have ground to be listened to.
So Yuuri doesn't listen to his brain he can't hear for once, gets up the elevator and into the flat he's always stayed at when they're in Lausanne.
Ah. He's forgotten his keys. Fortunately, the spare's still under the doormat. He doesn't know how the other can stay out after a competition like that to have fun and eat and drink. The only fun Yuuri wants it the funny pattern on his bedsheets.
And funny they are. He doesn't recognize the dog paw pattern, but whatever, the b&b owner probably knows him by now.
Yuuri doesn't hear his brain, everything aches. He drops the spare keys on the table and just crashes on the bed.
Viktor knows how Yuuri sees himself. He knows him too much to ignore it. He thinks, because of all the anxiety he goes through, he's a very conscientious person. Not forgetful at all.
Viktor's usually the one deemed forgetful.
A heavy sigh escapes him.
The only times he's forgotten where he lived, he was inebriated. And every one of those times, he ended up at a friend's place because he couldn't remember. He didn't think he still shared a flat with his drooling, world-level athlete, glasses askew, not pj wearing partner.
Ex partner.
A heavy sigh follows the first one.
Viktor doesn't know what to do with himself. Working with Yuuri is hard enough, being a careful and attentive coach is harder enough. Witnessing him easing into their old habit like it's comfort is the hardest still.
Seeing him privately, watching him withouth being seen in return. That has to be a cursed wrapped up as a blessing. Or maybe the opposite.
He doesn't know, as he doesn't know if he should sit or stand or wake him up or go to sleep because he too is exhausted or just watch or be glad or cry.
He's already weeping. Today was exhausting. Today was supposed to be the last day before a break. He'd been holding on til he reaches today. He'd been coming back at his place thinking finally. Finally he could be free for a while to nurse his wounds that never heals while seeing Yuuri on a daily basis.
It's a shame how they still manage to work up to greatness together. It would have been fairer for them to not be the best together, for their... whatever their breaking up was, to put a strain on their work. To affect it.
No. They work great together. He's reminded of that every day.
He just wanted to nurse his wound in peace. And sleep til july.
The sun ray that wakes Yuuri up is quite warm, and not bright at all. It's also very orange. In the privacy of his own room, he smiles. That was a good sleep, and a long one if the sun's any proof.
Finally, a well deserved break.
He rolls on his other side. The sheets are the softest he's experienced in month. He's gonna lay there all day; or rather all night.
"There's tea on your bedside table. And a hot water bottle."
Ah.
Yuuri stills. Of course he does.
When he reopens his eyes and is sad to note that he wasn't hallucinating.
Viktor is propped on a couple of pillows, chest bare which indicate he did sleep here, a book open in his hand.
"Mhm... Ok. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Why is it simple. It's not simple. It's awful. Why is it easy to talk to him. To understand he thought of the hot water bottle for the muscle cramps he gets in the morning?
They're supposed to be working together. That's all. Because they're great together. They're not supposed to be great together in a bed. That's not their part anymore.
He should turn and drink. He should turn and take the glass and put it to his mouth and then take the hot water bottle and then he should do something else but what, he doesn't know, and he should do something instead of just being here and. and. and. and not doing nothing.
"You crashed here after you left the rink yesterday. I didn't feel like waking you up."
"Ah. Ok? Thanks."
"There's coffee and breakfast for dinner in the kitchen if you want."
He doesn't say make yourself at home. This was one of the flat they used to rent when they were in Switzerland. It's been some kind of home, or at the very least he's made himself at home here before. They did, together.
Viktor doesn't say it, but what he does say he says so casually the meaning is underneath it all, involuntarily.
"Go on. Drink your tea. Everything's ok. Don't worry."
Viktor knows it's the easiest to deal with his anxiety: facts, not questions or maybe's or offers. Facts, and directions. Yuuri drinks his tea. It's a bit tepid, but in a reassuring way.
Why don't they work together, again?
#sae writes#yuri on ice#viktuuri#breakup prompts#i fucking hate it i fucking hate it i fucking hate it. people works together. they love each other. life fucks with people.
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Random Prompts 16:
"I can't do this anymore. I can't be everything to you one minute, then nothing to you the next."
"I know what I said. Can we... Let's pretend I didn't say it." "I thought I was the worst person in your life?" "I didn't say that."
"Why do I care about them? All they do is hurt me." "I really think this is a therapist question."
"I love you." "You'll move on."
"Where are you going?" "Out!" "Be safe!" "Don't be nice to me right now, fuck you!"
"I don't want to like them, but I think about them getting hurt and I can't stand it."
"Is it normal to hate the person you're dating?" "I'm gonna say no." "Well, that's not good."
"Can we not cause a scene in the middle of the street? Please, yell at me inside."
"Is loving me really that fucking hard for you? Am I not good enough?" "You're more than enough." "But is that enough for you?"
"This was never going to work, was it?" "No."
#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writing#my prompts#prompt list#prompts#conversation prompts#otp prompts#sentence prompts#otp prompt#dialouge prompts#dialogue prompts#random prompts#random prompt#breakup prompts#angst prompts
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You know this trope of "A and B are dating but soon after starting going out, A decides to break up with B because they're afraid of x reason (wanting to protect themselves or the other person from getting hurt, etc), and both characters suffer because they still love each other BUT at the end they end up going out again and"? Does this have a trope name or something?
#breakup prompts#otp prompts#you know the usual in so many bl dramas#i want the name of the trope so i can search info and specific prompts
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could you write some break up prompts? thank you! <3
Ooooooo bring on the heartbreak...
1. A and B broke up months ago, and have been no-contact ever since. They say it was mutual, and assure B everything is fine, but A can't bring themself to delete all the old messages from B off their phone
2. After breaking up with A, B spends night after lonely night at the bar talking to C about the relationship. C, curious about what happened, asks B to tell them just where everything seemed to go wrong.
3. A and B get into a screaming fight one night, and in the heat of the moment they break up. Now, both in their separate apartments, they've had time to cool down and reflect on everything that happened.
4. A keeps meaning to break up with B, but every time the moment they planned on gets close, B changes the topic or drags A off to do something else, and A is starting to wonder if B knows their plan.
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#otp#otp prompts#imagine your otp#writing prompts#ship prompts#story prompts#character prompts#angst#hurt no comfort#breakup#anonymous#prompt request#askbox#breakup prompts#heartbreak#pining#cell phone#phone call#drinking#fight#h/c#if you want it to be it can be
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The shampoo in the shower is wrong.
So is the conditioner.
And the body wash.
None of it is familiar, none of it feels like home, none of it feels like Eddie.
And why would it? Eddie’s not here, he’s with the band recording another album, far away from Hawkins and Steve.
They agreed to this, they both did. Eddie said he couldn’t wait for Steve, Steve didn’t want him to have to. Steve couldn’t leave the kids, Eddie didn’t want him to.
But that left them here, in this weird limbo where neither of them could acknowledge that they’d “broken up” and Steve was left staring at a body wash that wasn’t theirs.
It was stupid, really. Eddie always had his own body wash anyway.
But it was always right next to Steve’s. And sometimes they accidentally used each others’ when they were too tired to pay attention to the bottle they grabbed. And sometimes they’d run out of one and forget to pick up a new one at the store, so they’d smell like each other for a few days, weeks even.
And somehow Steve was expected to just use his own body wash, with no other bottle sitting on the shelf as an option.
Because Eddie wasn’t an option right now.
Or maybe ever if things kept going well for him and the guys.
Six months is a long time to not have Eddie as a comfort, as a safe place to rest, as a home.
But six months wasn’t that long when he thought about forever like this. Forever without Eddie.
Something he couldn’t have imagined the moment Eddie held a broken bottle to his neck.
He got out of the shower without washing his hair or his body; He could do it tomorrow.
He could be braver tomorrow.
He could survive another day without Eddie. Tomorrow.
Or maybe tomorrow he could finally be the one to break. He could call him and ask how things are. He could offer to come to a show. He could tell him that he loves him and he wants to follow him anywhere he goes.
But tomorrow wasn’t today and today, Steve had to accept his decision, their decision.
So today, Steve curled up in his bed, and he thought about what Eddie would sound like over the phone when he was brave. Tomorrow.
#oooooof I’m so sorry#angst with an ambiguous ending#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#drabble#we can assume it’s happy tho if you want#that’s what I’ll inevitably do when I’m not so in my feelings#post breakup#I’m getting the angst out now before it finds itself in a February prompt
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Newly divorced Maxiel 🙏
newly divorced maxiel
Daniel worried his thumb between his teeth, skin peeling just enough for it to sting, the flesh underneath raw and soft. He wiped his hand on his jeans self consciously, scrubbing spit and sweat residue onto his thigh. A bad habit he hadn’t managed to shake since childhood; a kid standing in the yard with scraped knees chewing his thumb just the same.
“You don’t care, you’re fine, you’re fine.”
He tried to make the words sound as sure as they did coming out of Scotty’s mouth, hands on his shoulders and looking at him with too-soft too-sympathetic eyes. They landed hollow at his feet, deflated balloons.
It was hard not to feel pathetic loitering at the front of their— Max’s, apartment building.
He shoved his hand into his pocket, a moment of panic before he touched cold metal. He worried the ring between his fingers, slipping it between first knuckles; not lower, not the fourth finger.
He imagined everyone could see it on his face: the creases from sleeping on the couch; unfamiliar product sitting in his hair; toothpaste smeared around his teeth with his index finger staring blearily into the mirror; bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
“Come on,” more words, more balloons, “you got this, come on. Just going up, getting your stuff. It’s easy.”
He was laying it on thick. Not thick enough.
The text sat like a grenade on his phone.
‘I’ll be out from 10 if you want to grab your stuff.’
He could imagine Max typing it in, Jimmy sat on his chest, the blue light glasses that he’d gotten after complaining about the headaches he was getting from his computer. He swallowed hard, a strange erratic squeezing around his heart.
It was ten thirty now. He’d loitered around the corner since walking down just past ten. He couldn’t stop thinking, endless and irrational, what if Max was late to leave, what if he caught him coming out the door, what if he’d meant 10pm, what if, what if—
Daniel hadn’t realised how quickly you could make time pass just from thinking.
It felt strange to swipe his keycard, and have it come up green and chirpy. Everything was as usual, smiling at the doorman, punching their floor into the elevator to head up. It was almost anticlimactic, as if it should’ve been some kind of dramatic return, all blaring sirens and screens lighting up with his face, shame shame shame.
Well. That was a bit melodramatic.
When he walked in, Sassy ran right up to him, wide pink mouth and sharp teeth as she yowled up at him.
“Hey girl,” he crouched, holding out his hand as she sniffed at him gently, whiskers tickling the sensitive skin of his palm, “miss me?”
She blinked up at him, big green eyes and her little chin resting on the tips of his fingers.
“You probably don’t even know what’s going on, huh?” He scratched at her neck, the spot that made her close her eyes blissfully, small pink tongue peeking out of her mouth, “your dad needs to let you know what’s up. Too bad you can’t parent trap us.”
Jimmy was nowhere to be seen; probably hiding under the bed, eyes flashing out from under the darkness. He’d never liked Daniel as much.
There were dishes on the counter from whatever Max had had for dinner last night, the telltale paper bags of a takeaway meal. He tried not to linger.
His stuff was arranged neatly on the bed, his charger on top of a pile of clothes: his favourite hoodie, soft cotton t shirt from an early run of Enchante merch, jeans. It was almost like he was preparing for a weekend away. This pile of things, compared to the enormity of his life with Max.
He was shoving things into the duffel bag when keys rattled in the door, a familiar jingle. He hadn’t realised that it was possible for his heart to jump and drop into his stomach all at once; some feat of gymnastics, a gold medal at the olympics.
He didn’t know what to do with himself, crouched by the bedside table. For some, inexplicable reason, he thought of hiding, like if he just got into bed everything would go back to as it was, the end of the nightmare portion of the fairy tale.
“Oh.”
“I was just leaving.”
The words left his mouth in a rush as he straightened up. Max was in the doorway, hair messy and gel free, creases under his eyes. Daniel didn’t look at his hands.
“No it’s okay,” he didn’t seem to know what to do either, arms still and frozen by his sides as Sassy twined around his legs, question mark tail, “I just— I forgot my wallet. I’ll leave.”
“No, no, I’ll go, really,” Daniel scrambled to shove the rest in his bag haphazardly, the careful folds falling apart under his hands, “it’s— it’s your place anyway.”
“Daniel,” Max sounded pained. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides; a glint of gold that made Daniel flinch, the hurt of a wounded dog.
“I’ve got everything anyway,” he stared just past Max, at the painting that they’d bought together hanging just behind him in the living room, two entwined bodies; a Matisse, the most pretentious thing they owned, “you know me. Good at living out of my suitcase, right?”
Max’s mouth was white and red, pursed lips as if it hurt him to hold back whatever he wanted to say. His eyes were pale and red in his face; Daniel couldn’t look at him for much longer without feeling nausea roll in his stomach.
“I’m—“
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Max sounded exhausted. He wondered how he’d slept, in a too big, too cold bed, “you, of course, made your decision. I’m sure it will be what is best for you.”
He wasn’t sure what was worse, the acceptance or the anger.
“Yeah. Yeah, right. I—“ he was babbling. Daniel had never known when to shut himself up, “how— is your sister still coming to visit?”
“She’s flying in tonight.”
“Cool.”
A long silence. It was like neither of them could breathe, as if all the oxygen they had shared had been sucked out of the room.
Daniel looked out over the harbour, the water sparkling against the white hot sun. There were families down on the beach, parents in beach chairs and children splashing each other in the shallows. When he felt brave enough to look back, Max was already turned away.
“I’ll get going then.”
Sassy pushed her small head against his leg, blinking up at him, long and slow.
“Sure.”
#yyyyeah.#maxiel#my fic#asks#mv33#dr3#breakup prompts#f1 rpf#enjoy or dont 😭#i never actually wanted him to leave [worst version]
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After a secret is revealed brocedes!
Nico burst inside the lab, the panels of his white coat flapping furiously behind him.
“You,” he said, ripping a spare pair of safety goggles from the rack near the door and shoving them over his head. He stalked over to Lewis’s bench and slammed his palms down on the table. Lewis’s glassware rattled, and the spongy surface of the gel medium he was inspecting quivered underneath the microscope.
“You got the Lauda Award,” said Nico. His face was flushed, and his hair was in disarray, barely mollified by the band of his safety goggles. “What happened to applying together, Lewis? We had a plan.”
Lewis nudged the petri dish out from under the lens and capped it, setting it to the side. Now that Nico was here, his work was certainly done for the day. “I decided to go for it.”
“Ugh,” said Nico, an ugly noise in his throat. He carded a hand through his hair, freeing several locks from the confines of his goggles. His hair fell over his face in a floppy sheet, exactly like it had when he and Lewis were fifteen. Lewis watched him shake silently with rage and resentment, shivering like a malfunctioning machine. Eventually he produced a packet of folded papers from the pocket of his coat. He shook the paper in front of Lewis's face. “HAM4 transcription factor misfolding is related to muscle function in adults with cerebral palsy.” Nico’s whole face was screwed up, like he was tasting something sour. “Since when do you even work on this?”
Lewis's heart skipped a beat and began to race, blood pounding anxiously in his ears. He busied his hands flipping the microscope off. Nico was accusing him of keeping his research secret as if Nico didn’t close his laptop whenever Lewis walked behind his desk on the way to make tea—as if Nico didn’t shut the door to Toto’s office when he was in there, so that Lewis couldn’t hear them down the hall. As if their days of sharing crib sheets and editing each other’s papers weren't already a decade in the past.
“Where did you get that?” said Lewis, standing from the stool. He shoved the cover over the microscope and lifted the petri dish to return it to the incubator.
“You really should lock your desk,” said Nico, eyes dark.
Lewis blinked, and paused where he was, halfway across the lab. He spun around, petri dish in hand. “Let me get this straight,” said Lewis. “You’re accusing me of breaching your trust when you stole my research from my desk?”
“We had a plan,” Nico whined. It really was whining. Lewis used to think it was sexy, how Nico’s voice climbed to a woman’s breathless octave when he wanted something badly. “Fuck, Lewis,” he said. “One more year, and then we were going to do it together.” Lewis watched him make a big show of damning the lab safety protocols and removing his goggles to rub at his angry eyes. “It’s fucking over, now.”
“We shouldn’t be collaborating anyway,” said Lewis, shaking. He turned back around to finish putting the tissue culture away. It was better if he didn't have to stare at Nico’s red face. “Our fields are diverging. We’re only going to slow each other down.”
“I’m not talking about collaborating,” said Nico, coldly. “We’re done. Find a new apartment, and find a new fucking boyfriend. You seem to like that geeky post-grad just fine—maybe he’ll fuck you and let you leech off of his grant too.”
Nico turned around and walked out in the same way he had entered, in a giant, theatrical flurry, flinging his goggles and Lewis’s research at the ground. The door slammed shut after him, and Lewis was left kneeling in front of the incubator, warmth radiating through the little glass window in the front, his dish of muscle cell culture tucked gently inside.
His research fluttered to the floor, a snowstorm of text and tables, and settled on the vermiculite. Some dreams died. Lewis decided he could live with that.
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