My Prompts - Blog Posts

Prompt #27

“Do you need a reminder of how fucking good you feel on me?” The villain asked the hero—their voice was deep, a sharp edge. The hero nodded, almost dazy. They were getting turned on by this whole scenario, the way the villain was manhandling them. It felt good. Really good. They wanted to be devoured. Desired. Let someone undo them. Bring them back to themself. They didn’t know what they were doing. Their head felt so heavy. God, they needed control more than anything. 

“Yeah, possibly more than one.” The hero replied, coming close to where the villain was standing. They grabbed them by the waist and pulled them in a heated kiss. The villain responded to the kiss immediately by grabbing the hero and pushing them onto the desk behind them. Their hands rode up the hero’s thighs, squeezing them. The hero moaned, lowly. The villain pulled away, to the hero’s dismay. They chased after the villain’s lips. “Please, kiss me.”

“Desperate. You were literally running away from me, 10 minutes ago. How am I supposed to do this with you?” The villain groaned. Their intent had been clear the moment they met. It was to have a talk, not a fight. A talk. A talk about their relationship. How they planned to make it happen in the future. But, the hero was anxious, which the villain understood. They were too.

However, the villain didn’t understand why the hero intended to ditch the whole situation. And, run away. They sighed. The hero didn’t reply, their eyes trained on the ground. “Look at me, please?” The villain gently placed their hand on the hero’s cheeks. 

“I’m so embarrassed by myself. I’m so confused. And, I’m so scared.” The hero said, their eyes filing with tears. The tears let themselves out without his permission, and he broke down.  

“I know, baby. I know how you feel. But, I want to talk about it when you’re ready. And, you can tell me if you’re not.” The villain acknowledged, their face already wet by the time they were finished. “It’ll be okay, we can work through this, alright? Promise me you won’t run away again.” The villain uttered. 

The hero shook their head and faintly smiled. “Never”, they whispered. They kissed the villain to bind it.

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Prompt #26

"You're addicting. Just like my morning coffee. You awaken every molecule in my body, every time I consume you." The villain breathed against the hero's lips, capturing them again. And then, grinning.

The hero invaded the villain's mouth with their tongue, rolling it all around his mouth. They brought them closer by their waist. Their thin waist, that the hero just wanted to mark it all over. They pulled away, to let both of them draw breath. "Am I, now?" They asked.

"Unfortunately, I don't get to consume you every morning." The villain replied. Their eyes spotted the exposed collar bones of the hero, from the very low v-cut button-up shirt they were wearing. And, they felt the urge to mark it. The hero smiled, licking their lips.

"Someday, that will happen. Okay?" The hero said, sighing.

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Prompt #17

“I guess I never meant anything to you in the end.” The villain swallowed the last bit of his beer. He appeared a bit tipsy as he stood up, and went to where the hero was sat.

The villain stumbled forward and kneeled down in front of the hero. “Please. Just please, tell…tell me why you did this. Why you-you…loved me and then decided to shatter my heart like this. Please.” He said, his face filled with raw emotion. Anguished. Bewildered.

The hero swallowed, "I...-I had to do this to save you. To save us. They found out about this, and I had to lie. What else could I do, my love?" His heart ached with painful sharp jaws gnawing every inch of it. If only the other would understand him.

"Don't! Don't fucking call me that. Not after what you've done." The villain growled, his eyes filling with harsh tears as he stood up and swat them away harshly. The hero went to grab him by his wrist, and the villain pulled back sharply.

The hero's eyes filled with tears. This was not supposed to happen, he thought. "Please, listen to me." He said, voice trembling. The villain turned out, his eyes red.

"What is there to listen to, after all this?" He asked, voice rough. He refused to look at the hero, for he was afraid he would fully break down. The hero came close, forcing his face towards him. He put their foreheads together, leaning on each other.

"We can make this work. We still have enough time to run away. I'm sorry I told them about this, but...but we can make this work, yeah?" He said, gulping. His throat felt dry from all the crying. The villain hugged him and wept. The hero doing the same.

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Prompt #15

“I hope she’s making you happy,” The villain growled as he pushed the hero against the ground.

“I-...what?" The hero replied, uncertain. He grunted as the villain's fingers dig further into the soft skin of his neck. He put his hand on top of the villain's, to make him stop.

"The girl you've been going out with, for like years now. Every time I try to look for you, she's always with you. What's with that?" The villain questioned, a scowl taking place on his face.

"Oh, OH. You're jealous?" The hero claimed, with a grin stretching his lips upwards. The villain dug his fingers harder. "Stop." He groaned.

"Tell me who she is, and what her business is with you." The villain talked, still scowling.

"Okay. Okay. Why don't you let go of my neck first, yeah? I'm not into choking, anyway." He said as the villain released him. He let out a chortle, rubbing his neck where the fingerprints left their mark. The villain blushed a little, glancing away.

"She's my partner. We work together on cases, and we are also quite close." The hero scolded. The villain turned his face to him, raising a brow. "As friends. Close friends, you jealous little thing." He finished. The villain huffed, he started getting up from where he was. But, the hero stopped him and pinned him on the ground.

"I should get my turn, too. Shouldn't I?" The hero murmured in his deep voice. The villain turned red, and the hero let out a laugh.

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Prompt #14

The villain stumbled back, as the hero pushed him against the wall. His hands on the villain’s waist, their lips on each other. The villain held the hero by his face, deepening their kiss.

Not long after, they pulled back. “You’re such a good kisser, you know that?” The villain panted, his chest heaved up and down.

The hero chuckled, a low sound from his throat. “I learned from the best.” He winked. He let go of his hold on the villain’s waist, and turned around. The villain followed through, back hugging the hero.

“You know, you were here to battle me to death, not chase after my lips.” The villain whispered in the hero’s ears. The hero raised an eyebrow, and turned around.

"Well, you asked for it." The hero returned, smiling faintly. "And, anyway, I'm not on duty right now. No obligations." The villain pulled him close for another kiss. He knew, in his heart, he won't get to do this for too long. Someday, they'll be separated like the sun and the moon.

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Prompt #13

“I love you, too.” The villain told the hero, as he stabbed him in the stomach with a knife. The hero’s breath choked, as his eyes widened, and then closed little by little. The villain let out a cold exhale, as he did the same to himself.

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Prompt #12

"Are you okay?" The hero questioned, breathless. They moved closer to the villain.

"No. I'm not okay. Do you think a person would be 'okay' after they've been hit on their head with a freaking pan?" The villain retorted, their hands moving to their head. A little bump was forming, and he cursed.

"I didn't know it was you, alright? It's not my fault that you decided to invade in my house at 3:00 in the morning." The hero grumbled, annoyance apparent in their frowned face.

"I came to give you your bracelet that you left behind, while you were wrestling me on that damned rooftop. Now, whose fault is that, huh?" The villain remarked, taking out the said object out of their back pocket, and placing it in the hero's hand.

"Oh, umm. Sorry. And, thank you." The hero said, sheepish. A slow smile formed on their face. They glowed beneath the moonlight, and it was the most beautiful sight for the villain.

The villain scoffed and looked away. They wouldn't admit it, but they only came to see the smile on the hero's face, and of course, to return that bracelet.

Prompt #11

“All I want for you is to be mine, is that so hard?” The villain said.

“If only I could say the same, if only the world would let me.” The hero replied.

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Prompt #10

CW: PTSD episode

The hero put down the bat as they gazed at the villain. The villain shield himself, while his whole body was violently shaking. In reality, the hero had picked up the bat from a random trash can that sat in one of the dark valleys. He had not planned on hitting the villain with it, maybe, using it as a defense tool.

"Please...don't hit me. Please." He wept, his eyes slowly filling with tears. The hero backed away, confused.

"What?" He mumbled, frowning a bit to himself.

"Please, just don't hit me. I'll do what you say." The villain whispered, the words barely reaching the hero's ears. His eyes let out the water holding them. He kept whispering, 'Please'.

The hero gulped, as realization hit. The villain was having a PTSD episode. He bent down and reached for the villain's hands. The villain backed away, in fear.

"It's okay. I'm- I'm...not going to hit you. Please, look at me." The hero murmured, making sure to keep his voice gentle. The villain reluctantly lowered his hands. His face was filled with terror, and the hero wanted to caress it away.

"You're safe, okay? I'm not going to do anything to you." The hero said, his eyes filled with concern. The villain sat still, his body still shaking a bit. He needed time and space. The hero decided to give him that. And, stayed where he was.

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Prompt #9

The villain has a crush on the hero. He's in denial, until the hero finds out and uses it to his advantage.

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Prompt #8

The hero is on a mission to make the villain fall in love with him, and find out about the villain’s plans. The only problem? Instead of the villain, the hero falls in love. And, the villain knows their identity.

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Prompt #6

The hero and the villain run away. Except, when they both come back together, their roles are reversed. Because the hero finds out why the villain were the way they were. And now, they(the hero) want revenge.

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Prompt #4

The villain shuddered as he walked to the aching body on the ground. The hero. He felt a shudder run down his spine. The hero was lying on the ground, blood smeared across his face and hands. 

The villain came forward, and bend down. His heart throbbed against his chest, at an unreal speed. His mouth felt dry as he swallowed. His stomach warped itself in. The hero wrestled to get up on his elbows. 

“Y-you…you have to go, okay? T-they are c-coming for you.” The hero choked, barely making out the words. He fell back to the ground. Crushed.  The villain shook his head rapidly, panic clawing through his body. 

“No!” He cried. “NO! I can’t leave you here, not like this! No!”

“Please. You…got to go. They-” The hero struggled to try to catch his breath, as his words caught in his throat. 

“No, I can’t. I can’t! I can’t! I-” The villain felt his eyes prickling with salty tears. He wasn’t one to cry, but god did he feel like his world was crumbling with the passing seconds. His hero. His world. 

“Please! Listen-listen…to me this, once. Please, go!” The hero bit out, but all the villain could do was hold the hero in his arms, while sobbing, until they both exhaled their last breaths.

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Prompt #3

The hero slowly backed away, while the villain advanced towards him. His footsteps echoed a rhythm through the ground. He walked until he hit a solid wall behind him, the villain coming close—a dagger in his hands. His hands lifted, and he put the sharp object to the hero’s throat. Almost touching. Almost. 

The hero swallowed, barely dodging the keen edge. The villain chuckled, low and dark. “So, any last words, before I let you meet your friends in the heavens?” He asked. The hero frowned. 

“Today’s definitely not my last day on this earth,” The hero murmured, as he kicked the villain between his legs, and ran. He could not fight the villain, with his injuries alive and burning. He would lose, seriously. 

He hid in a shady-looking valley that screamed danger, but at least he was out of sight of the villain. 

Though, if only he knew, that the villain was watching him from one of the buildings nearby, a smug look accompanying his face.

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Prompt #1

“What did you think? That you’d win? That you would have the control?” The villain murmured, way too close to the hero’s face. The hero stared with his mouth a gape open.

The villain smirked, “You’re staring at my lips, darling. Now, Wouldn’t you like to kiss me?”

The hero looked away, breathing heavily. The villain pressed their hands on the chains, tightening them. The hero moaned. “Fuck, don’t do that. Let me go. Please”. He let out.

“You know when you beg like that, I get weak.” The villain said, his hands retreating. He backed away from the hero.

The hero chuckled, laughed even. “You’re fucking insane.”

“I am. Thanks for confirming.” The villain sat down opposite the hero, his eyes wandering over the hero. They stared. The hero let on a wicked grin, scratching the chair across the pepper-powdered floor as they went close to the villain.

“You know, I would like to kiss you, even if to just shut your mouth up for a minute.” The hero muttered, lowly. The villain’s eyes fluttered, demeanor falling. Suddenly, they appeared vulnerable.

The villain huffed, “You wish.”

“So…no?” The hero asked, they moved their body a bit. Little did the villain know, the hero was entangling himself. And not long after, the hero succeded and stood up. Before the villain could do anything about it, the hero was pinning him down on the floor. His face frowned as the hero pressed his hand to his throat.

❌Please credit me if use this in your writing❌

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵 0.2

AUs

1.Future

2.Coffee Shop

3.Florist

4.Tattoo Artist

5.Hospital

6.Royal

8.Neighbor/Roommate

9.Bodyguard

10.Criminal

11.Police

12.Prison

13.High School

14.College

15.Teacher

16.Singer

17.Dance/Ballet

18.Actor

19.Soulmate

20.Magic(Dragons,Fairy,etc…)

21.Werewolves/Vampires

22.Angel/Devil

23.Gods

24.Hybrid

25.Poly Relationship

FLUFF

26.“Cuddle with me?“

27.“Can we get a Cat/Dog?“

28.“Good Morning Love“

29.“How was your Day Baby?“

30.“I love you“

31“Can we have a Baby?“

32.“I missed you“

34“You are Perfect the way you are“

35.“Don´t stare at me! / Stop staring at me!“

36.“Give me Attention! Please?“

37.“5 more Minutes“

38.“The bed is cold without you”

39.“You sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?” “Of course”

40.“Keep talking, your voice helps me sleep.”

41.“It’s just a nightmare, it’s nothing real.”

Tropes

42.Sick/Injured

43.Scars

44.Baby/Child

45.Vacation  

46.Fake Dating/Married

47.Arranged Marriage  

48.Accidentally Married

49.Friends to Lovers

50.Enemies to Lovers

51.Masquerade Ball

52.Locked in a Room

53.Making Out

54.Bed Sharing 

Kisses

55.‘Kisses under the moonlight

56.Bloodstained kisses

57.Kisses in the dark

58.Soft kisses

59.Forehead kisses

60.Hair Kisses

61.Kisses in the Rain

62.Nose Kisses

𝙍𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

63. can I kiss you?

64.“..i love your smell ..”

65. ”..I am her boyfreind..:

66.”..don’t compare yourself to them they aren’t you love..“

67.”..I ship us

Brella 4,7,10,13 please! I’m not sure if you have already answered some of these 🤣

Ok, so any of this questions have been asked. So I can aswer all of them. Sorry it took me so long.

4.Who ask out who in the first date?

Defently Brandon, i have 0 doubts. Because Stella was still kind of pissed about the fact the brandon lied to her about his identy. So he had to work hard for the first date, he spend all his saved money for the future,just to make the perfect day and date. After that Stella felt horrible and insisted in giving him money. He refuse it, but stella found a way.

7.How do they flirt with one another?

Come’on we all know Brandon is a smooth talker. Like damn he could get you to buy I Don’t know christmas awful sweethearts in june. So he just smooth talks to her.

And Stella shes a flirt, an aboslutlely flirt. Like she just loves to flirt with him and give him names. They are just a filtrie couple.

10.Are they a supper sappy couple?

Absolutely. They started as joke the pet names, But now they forgot on how they used to call eachother before. So yeah, besides they’re not like Flora and Helia, but they do are sappy. Come one they don’t know how to live without the other

.13.How do they hype up?

So Stella, always tries to play it cool when she has something as a designer, like a runaway. So Brandon basically flirts with her all the time, and carries everything to help her, and stands beside her and brings Bloom there. Because they have this unspoken thing so he just leave them so space.

And when Brandon has a king thing, like a important thing, Stella just holds his hand and gives him a peep talk (wich they aren’t always the best) but it helps him a lot.

Should I?

I found a bunch of like old ideas/writing prompts I had for Eddie when I was in that era of my life lol so should I post them for people to use?

It could be used for more than just him for other character or original ones idk I just wanna clear out my drafts

Prompt (565)

“You should be scared of me,” the villain said. “I’m here to kill you.”

“You’re eating ice cream,” the hero said.

They were a little confused. This had not been the assassin they were expecting. They watched the villain look ice cream off their hand as it dribbled down.

“I can be an assassin and still want a snack,” the villain said.

The hero stared at them doubtfully. They pointed to their face. “You have chocolate on your nose.”

Couples Therapy (DpxDc Prompt)

Danny looses a bet and now he has to attend couples therapy. The problem? He has no one to attend couples therapy with.

The obvious solution, he decides with 3am clarity after 36 consecutive hours awake, is to put out a job listing. And where better to find a fake partner than a dating site?

About Me

Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other.

Now all he has to do is wait.

i wallow

part 4/4 of mourning your reciprocation pink jasmines symbolise affection, love, beauty and purity.

i rarely had the time to make sense of romantic poems, the ones of which i deemed were nothing short of over-the-top. a sappy bunch, i thought. yet here i laid on my desk, with the side of my flushed cheek from dried tears pressed against a clumsily ripped paper on the edges, inked with an unnecessary and embarrassing amount of scribbles and crosses to hide some cluttered words i strung together in an attempt of composing a disgustingly romantic ballad. the paper long forgotten, though, when i recognised a jasmine's fragrance wafting somewhere outside my opened window that was gently seeping into my room, along with yellow-orange hues of the afternoon sun pooling on my wooden-tiled floor and swirling tiny freckles of dusts in its entry.

"they're stardusts." you've said. "they're just, dusts." i've replied, on those lazy afternoons i sneaked out of strict shackles tying to a prisoned half of my heart within my parents' house, just for a liberating escape to yours where the other half of it lies free, full of unspoken love, splayed out all for you under your old oak tree - the witness to our first picnic date, first kiss and a first heart-to-heart followed up by many, many more. and oh, i could never succeed in picturing a memory more vividly than that time when this nostalgic afternoon's sunlight kissed the outlines of your pink cheek, its touch reaching all the way down to your slightly opened lips that are a shade darker. that was when your expression turned to one of a surprised fluster as i placed a baby pink jasmine flower crown i made on your hair, carefully picking each stray strands and tucking them in that halo handmade only for the dearest guardian angel who was protecting my wounded heart. the flower crown was far from the perfection i wanted it to be but with you, any imperfections felt perfectly right. we couldn't care how those flower petals were gradually falling apart from my clumsy handiwork because nothing glowed more radiantly than us in each other's windows of the soul. and in my soul's window, those dusts could really be stardusts only when they danced to a carefree breeze that smelt pleasantly of jasmines around your sunkissed figure.

how i wished this blissed trance could last forevermore, wished clockwork went backwards, way back so i could be there to stop the death of all of your memories of me and your love for me that happened when you were going to get me a bouquet on our anniversary. i wished i could cry to you that i didn't need a bouquet, didn't need you to get me anything but to stay inside with me, away from all the unexpected horrors of this world that could threaten to sever our seemingly unbreakable love. but no matter how invincible i thought it must've been, it was nothing but a fragile jasmine that was yet to have completely bloomed, too small and too weak to withstand a storm after the illusions of a sun.

still, i’d wait for a new jasmine to bloom, wondering when you’d love me again.

forgotten memoirs

part 3/4 of mourning your reciprocation

a quiet night, you and i, a spontaneous kiss to your cheek, and a cloudy sky. that was how it started.

the grey clouds were threatening to burst into showers of salty raindrops, but you didn’t seem to care, turning your back to me in favour of kicking something that sounded clinking like rocks and bits of concrete. i was a little worried that you felt uncomfortable at the sudden show of affection and debated loitering around a bit longer, but right now, i could feel a humid air in our surroundings, indicating looming rain.

“let’s take cover, quickly.”

i ushered, as my hand navigated to grab your other wrist that wasn’t buried in your pocket. i tried to drag you forward to what i assumed was the dimmed, blue light in a hazy fog that belonged to a convenience store, but when you spun around and faced me, you grounded your feet still, staying stubbornly in place. with frustration that probably adorned a frown on my features, i looked straight in your eyes. your eyes had never been short of hypnotic every time they looked at me because they provided answers that i seek, comforted my soul and communicated volumes even as your pretty lips stilled. they did none of those this time, except reflecting my frustrated face that i could clearly see, strangely so, even in the fog. i ignored the growing ire in my stomach in realisation that maybe i didn’t know you as well as i thought. i lowered my head, suddenly finding interest in your shoelaces. an unsure silence stretched between us until i was no longer able to stand your burning gaze on the back of my head. i muttered weakly:

“we’ll catch a cold.”

your cold hand cupped over the side of my cheek, slightly tilting my face upwards. it was my turn at being stubborn, keeping my head low enough so as to not meet your gaze. i guess i just wanted to sulk a little over the confusion in my heart - i still couldn't wrap my head around your actions. were they green signals for our relationship to bloom into an intimacy as romantic as a red rose, or was it merely my fantasies messing with my consciousness that could no longer differentiate what was real and what wasn't?

“i'm not that fragile, and besides, i'd have you by my side even if i fell sick enough that i couldn't think, right?"

your words rolled off your tongue onto mine a honeyed texture i couldn't get enough of, almost like a drug with stirred questions as its side effects. it wasn't just your words, no, because right after that, you snaked your hand around my head and pressed on its back so i could rest my forehead on your damp shoulder. oh. i was too focused on you that it had started to rain without my notice. the rain be damned if it could stop us from being so close to each other like this. plus, the reassuring way your hand patted my head gently emboldened me, telling me you wouldn't pull me away. so i blurted without thinking:

"please be mine."

too tired for regrets, my eardrums practically blurred out at that moment like a subconscious defense mechanism to block out any rejection that i'd rather die from embarrassment than to hear from you. it seemed like time had stopped, had really frozen each raindrop that rolled down the tips of my twitching fingers and solidified the air between us to frosted ice.

a beat of my heart. a shaky exhale from me, from you or from both of us, i didn't know. but that didn't matter, like how insignificantly heavy the rain was, weightless, in contrast to those words you uttered, thick and dripping with sugary honey, an endearing promise i longed for:

"i'm yours."

i could breathe again.

i swallow

part 2 of mourning your reciprocation

before you came, i was tied to a desk and a chair by the binds of basic needs and oftentimes wants when i got a raise. it was a mere routine to arrive at work on time, a severe lack of sleep forcefully shoved away in my eye sockets, only to return home countless hours later with body-crumbling exhaustion from overtime. but no matter how tired or worn out i was and no matter how much workload there was, i didn’t shed a single tear, because i knew all too well that such was life. or so i thought. a true life wasn’t a routine. to live and to exist bore stark differences. it wasn’t often that i found myself living, until i met you.

cooperation was what i always tried to achieve in group projects, in fear of being frowned upon with scornful gazes and disdain for not trying hard enough. that fear took my teammates into account, but in competitions, it overwhelmed me to an extent of completely disregarding rivalry. that left me unaware to those prying eyes that were waiting for the right moment to flip the tables. alas, what good was it to put my heart and soul to our first project when all of my hard work was for naught after the opposing team sabotaged the files that i was in charge of?

my tear-stained face hit face-first against the messy blankets under a tilted pillow that i attempted to lower the back of my head on. all the strength i had left after work was already used up for dragging myself up the bed. this was one of those moments that i felt like i could truly live. because it was hard to breathe when i laid this way that i realised, one by one, how the only thing that wetted my cheeks at this hour used to be a cold energy drink, how amazing it would be to be able to breathe when i suffocated, and how you would’ve rubbed soothing circles on my back, wordlessly yet affirmatively lying by my side as i bury my face in your collarbones.

no, no. i can’t afford to think of you right now. not when you just peered down at me, all disgusted and utterly hateful as if i was nothing but dirt. oh, please, if only you saw those foxes snooping around like i did, you would be standing my ground and supporting me… like before. you always would have. you’d have believed in my pleas unlike the others. those scoundrels were no different from each other with their ignorance, never failing to put everything on my shoulders then shun me for getting tired. was it on me to prevent the selfishness in human’s nature that was vulgarly rooted to the corrupted core? damn them all to hell!

i couldn’t even find ways to make it up to you because how on earth could i when you wouldn’t even spare a glance my way? frustration pooled a helpless desire in my guts to thrash around or punch just an ounce of pain out, but my limbs had reached their limits, so i cried harder instead, though my eyes were starting to sting painfully. i hated the wet burn that my hot tears made on these freezing cheeks, smeared all over my pillow and almost biting away at my face from how it hurt so badly, it hurt being misunderstood by you so much that i could die. but this excruciating pain told me that i was still alive.

because feeling pain was what it meant to be alive, i’d rather that night, after swallowing the hurt whole, i’d fall into a sleep that i would never wake up from.

mourning your reciprocation

prompt: written in a person’s point of view who was in love with someone before that someone became an amnesiac. this accident resulted in separation, but never in lost feelings, though they are one-sided.

“the sorrows inside

i swallow

in our forgotten memoirs

i wallow.”

sorrows inside

part 1/4 of mourning your reciprocation

the sun was shining brighter than ever at noon. this morning, my therapist told me to focus on the way it shines slim, curved lines of yellow on the pristine pebbles along the street as i walked back home. i was doing a good job at it, if you don’t count a few minor distractions like a swaying hyacinth and a snowy husky dog that served a pang to my head as a forceful reminder of how much you loved them. but i left it there. it should be there, and shouldn’t have travelled down, stuck at the base of my throat before sending a drastic fall. but it did, when i crawled on the crimson bench alone against the white walls of a shelter that i was supposed to spend dreamlike moments in with you. but it did, tugging a tumultuous crash to my aching heart. my heart pulsed once. badump. medicinal chemicals overlapping hints of metallic blood filling my nostrils. twice. badump. cardboard boxes weighing on my hands nearly as heavy as my heart was, with no one to share. thrice. badump. fingers smearing red paints on this very bench that would definitely illicit disapproving sighs from you because red on white stands glaring to the eyes, and i might’ve considered changing it just to suit your tastes if you were here. but ifs are never realities. this reality takes shape in the day you met me again, with a foreign look, almost a sick politeness in place of that affection you once held in your eyes, preserved for only me when it was just us two.

after that fated meeting, i indulged in my overwhelming moods a little. i painted this bench red when i decided on dedicating it to be all that my bleeding heart is, for it shows off shades of uneven reds, wounded with imperfections and lonesome against the white walls of our dreams behind my back. still, by allowing constant turns of my head, i’ve been associating you with everything around me. it’s an act that should be forbidden if i want you and i to truly move on. then again, if isn’t this reality. i want to feel sorry for myself, this time, for being unable to make that if into a reality.

the shade casts a looming sorrow on my hunched figure: your heart is obliviously white to an incomplete crimson that is mine.

Thought #1: What if someone has the powers to bring people back to life, but they become weaker everytime they do it.