#i just feel awfully bitter and alone and sad

[salsflore]

i miss my irls and my cat and my house this is so SICKKK what did i ever do to you, december

[suashii]

୨♡୧ TREAT YOU BETTER — bakugo x reader. sfw. hurt/comfort. fluff.

jumping to conclusions and making assumptions without all the facts is rash, you know, but you’re starting to think you’ve been stood up. what else does it mean when your date is fifteen minutes late and has left three of your texts unanswered?

a flurry of emotions whirls around inside of you as the realization dawns on you; embarrassment, anger, sadness. the last one pisses you off even more because you shouldn’t be sad. that poor excuse of a potential boyfriend certainly didn’t care about you, so why should you place any weight on his actions? if anything, you dodged a bullet.

that’s the logical, rational way of thinking, but ignoring the pang in your heart is harder than you think. you can’t help but get caught up by the wave of disappointment that washes over you. the plastic straw between your teeth is almost chewed beyond recognition as you contemplate whether you want to swallow your pride and stay to eat alone or admit defeat and just pay for your lemonade.

on the other side of the window, where city lights gleam as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bakugo is walking home from patrol. his eyes wander, taking in the scenery with each of his steps. it’s by chance that his gaze turns to the very restaurant you’re in, and even more of a coincidence that he notices you with the way your cheek is smooshed against your hand.

he had planned on going straight home after finishing up for the day but the mere sight of you has him making a detour to join you inside.

you’re just about to consider flagging down a waiter when a commotion erupts at the entrance. if it had been ten minutes ago when you were still eager about your date, you would have turned around to see what everyone was clamoring over. instead, you sigh, hoping that it won’t be too long until you see someone who can give you your bill.

you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to drown out the noise but your effort is for nothing as patrons and staff alike continue to animatedly “ooh” and “aah” at the person’s arrival. the cherry on top of your already forming headache comes in the form of a chair scraping across the floor; much too close for it to be anywhere other than your table.

thinking it’s your overdue date by what has grown to be twenty minutes, a bitter protest bubbles up in your throat—something about how he’s already wasted enough of your time and you don’t have any more to spend on him. although, it dies on your tongue when you open your eyes and see a familiar head of sandy blonde hair and a set of piercing scarlet eyes. you breathe out a breath you didn’t know you were holding upon seeing the man across from you.

“someone’s awfully dressed up to eat unaccompanied,” bakugo starts, propping his elbow up on the table to replicate yours. he takes in your outfit; more formal than anything you’d usually wear but less than what he recalls you putting together for any of the UA dances when the two of you attended. if he had to guess, bakugo would conclude that he interrupted a date.

“yeah, well, i wasn’t supposed to be here alone,” you tell him, flicking your straw.

you’re dressed for the occasion, that much is sure, but something about your air is off to bakugo. he watches quietly as you aimlessly play with your straw. your eyes are turned down, like if you look up and meet his, he’ll see something you’re trying to hide. it clicks only a second later and the lax expression bakugo’s wearing is traded in for a frown. “your date didn’t come?”

“nope,” you pop the p and give your straw one final flick before pushing the glass away and sitting back in your chair. now that the cat’s out of the bag, you finally find the courage to look the man in the eyes. it’s strange, you think, that all of those negative emotions that you were drowning in only a moment ago don’t feel as suffocating now. the only thing that’s changed since is bakugo’s presence. you can’t put your finger on it, but him simply being here has made you feel a little better.

“asshole,” bakugo mumbles under his breath, though it’s loud enough that you can hear it. it almost makes you smile.

bakugo crosses his arms. he had originally come in to poke fun at you and maybe get a look at the guy you had come with but he’s glad that he missed the punk, and for more reasons than one. he’s sure that if he saw him now, his name would be making headlines for assaulting a civilian. although, somehow the thought of seeing him with you happy and joking—having a good time is even worse to katsuki. 

there’s an itchy feeling in the back of bakugo’s throat as he thinks about why that is. it’s something he’s known for a while, at least since the two of you graduated, but something he has yet to confront; at least with you. he’s acknowledged these feelings that venture beyond friendliness himself, though, and he finds this part a bit pathetic, he hasn’t come clean about them to you.

maybe that’s because he isn’t as courageous as he paints himself out to be or maybe it’s because there’s a little piece of him that feels as though he isn’t good enough for you. but his glimpse of how poorly you were treated tonight is all it takes to convince him that he could do so much better, and you deserve as much.

with a newfound resolve, bakugo clears his throat. “have you looked at the menu?”

your eyes flit to the menu at the center of the table before that dart back up to your companion’s face. he doesn’t look upset like he had earlier on your behalf. you had scanned over the menu a few times during the delay but instead of saying so, you ask, “why?”

“because, i’m going to give you the date that prick couldn’t.”

whether it’s the declaration itself or the person it’s coming from, you aren’t sure, but your heart skips a beat with katsuki’s words. it’s a gesture you can’t see him doing for many others and that fact alone warms your cheeks. still, you can’t be positive that he meant in a romantic sense, the way you had taken it. as embarrassing as it is to ask, you’d rather be on the same page than get your hopes up over a chummy attempt at cheering you up. “um, like a date as friends or…”

“an actual date,” katsuki clarifies. he can’t quite tell if your eyes are widened in pleasant surprise or partial horror. the last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable, even if that means humiliating himself. so he adds, “if you’re okay with that.”

for the first time since you sat down, a genuine smile pulls at your lips. you were sure this night wouldn’t turn around but you’re starting to think this is a better outcome than you could have hoped for. because, unbeknownst to katsuki, each of your failed dates have been placeholders for the one you’ve truly wanted—him.

“yeah,” you nod, “i’m okay with that.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[kometqh]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧

Fives x F!Reader x Echo Pt. 1 After the events of the Citadel, Fives is forced to embark on a journey - inform people of Echo's passing. Fives knew his brother like the inside of his pocket, but who knew Echo had been hiding a gem all this time? Certainly not Fives. Word Count: 2886 Warnings: Echo's death, swearing, sad Fives, alcohol consumption A/N: I'm missing fives because he didn't get enough screen time and it's called 'The Clone Wars' for a reason :c

"I'm sorry," His voice carried a certain lightness to it, spinning in your ear canal like a pearly white feather on a windy, gloomy day. Though his words, oh his words, they pierced through your heart like a rusty dagger, the bitter metal permeating through the organ like a chartreuse, acidic poison. "There was nothing we could do to save him."

You were always afraid that one day, after a long, dreadful mission, he just wouldn't be back.

No matter how many times your best friend reassured you, that fear just lingered somewhere deep within your subconscious, sharpening its' shiny black talons, awaiting the day it could re-emerge into your heart.

Fives swallowed harshly, counting down the number of awfully loud heartbeats echoing in his head. He could feel a tension headache rising as he eyed you wearily, ready to offer comfort if you were to start crying, or having a go at him.

Your lack of response worried him. It was like you knew as soon as the door opened, his fist stuck in mid-air as the gears turned in his head. By the time he had gone over the pleasantries and the uncomfortable silence, your eyes had seemingly lost their spark, your face paled in the early sunshine of the Coruscantian morning, and your voice lost that high-pitched note to it when you spoke.

And now, here he was, his neck feeling awfully warm, his gut twisting as he thought of every whichever way to escape this hellhole. He hadn't even had the time to mourn his brothers death, yet alone truly understand it and now he had to go making rounds to people, informing them of it?

The Republic was cruel, and shitty, and full of shit and-

"H-How did he..?" His gaze was laser focused on his hands, the tension in his shoulders worsening as he looked up from his lap. You had unshed tears trudging the edges of your waterline, your eyelashes already wet from having to blink away thick, hopeless tears.

The green of the wallpaper that peered round the corner seemed much more inviting to look at than your eyes were, Fives thought. The colour was that of pine trees, lighter swirls of white decorating the expanse of the wall behind you. It used to be Echo's favourite colour. His brother always said how it brought joy for him to see that dreaded colour, how it always made him feel hopeful in an otherwise unsure battle. Fives, even though having made fun of Echo for being such a sap, had also secretly shared the same opinion.

But now all he felt when he saw the colour was disgust, nausea, and worst of all, guilt.

"Fives..?" Your voice gently lulled him out of his thoughts, like a lighthouse at sea, calling out to his ship, and his eyes widened as he realised you had reached your hand over to his, your thumb rubbing at his armoured forearm. Kriff, he didn't even take his bloody armour off.

His lips opened and closed, his eyelashes fluttering as Fives tried to map his way around, trying to find the right words to say.

Eventually, he settled on a fairly common pair.

"I-I'm sorry," He winced at the shakiness of his voice, scrunching his eyes shut. How the hell was he supposed to say it? For some odd reason, you were the one comforting him, rather than the other way around. What kind of soldier was he? What kind of man was he?

"He.. He died heroically," His voice was soft, trembling. Fives couldn't bring himself to speak any louder, afraid that the deeply buried emotions in his chest would come crashing down, like waves against a rocky shore, "He was the bravest man on that battlefield, ready and willing to do anything to complete the mission. He was so.. He was so inspiring. What happened next.. I- I couldn't get to him.. in time." He took in a shallow, shaky breath, forcing his eyes shut as tears began to prickle at his eyes.

"I couldn't save him."

"Fives it's-"

"The droid blasted the ship just as he reached the entrance and I wanted to help him, to get him out of there, but someone screamed my name and all I remember is seeing his body fly, and his helmet drop at my feet. I wish it were me instead of-"

"He would never forgive himself for that and you know it." Your voice tore through his tangent, sharp, snappy and cold as ice. It was as if you had thrown cold water in his face. You knew Echo, you knew he would never let his brother sacrifice himself for him, "He was a good soldier and he died as one." You whispered, peering down at the man seated in your small, pale yellow kitchen.

The wrinkles on his forehead and the tired bags under his eyes told you everything. He desperately needed a safe place, and some well deserved rest.

Has he even had the time to process Echo's death? You truly doubted it just by seeing his reluctance, the difficulty he felt of talking about this. As though it was the first time.

You couldn't let Fives go back to the GAR. Not in this condition, not yet. You were afraid he would simply shut down if he were surrounded by countless faces and voices, similar and the same as Echo's. He would have constant nightmares, constant night terrors, constant guilt.

But what about you? What about your time alone, your time to process the news of your best friends death?

That wasn't your priority right now, you could wallow in the bubbling feelings of grief and despair after you've taken care of his brother, his twin.

Taking in a deep breath, you kneeled beside Fives, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh.

"Stay here for the night. You can be gone by morning and we never have to talk of this again." You offered, squeezing his thigh to get his attention. You could tell by the way his eyes widened that he wasn't expecting such an offer, and by the quick downturn of his lips, that he was about to reject it.

"It's not for my comfort, it's for your own," You interjected, determination seeping from each word you said, "I- I don't think you'll be able to sleep there-" You paused, getting up from the floor with a huff, "Here's the plan; I'll draw you a bath, make you some food and then you can go sleep in my room, how's that?" You asked, leaning against the countertop behind you.

A few moments of silence passed, Fives completely stunned and speechless. Where was Echo hiding this.. t-this gem? He had never met such a compassionate woman, person, ever.

All he was familiar with were the one night stands with numerous different women he'd met at 79s. Did Echo meet you there too? Were you really just friends?

Shaking his head, Fives stood up from his seat, looking, no, glaring at that stupidly green wallpaper behind you. At that grisly irritating reminder of hope. Of Echo. "I-I couldn't take such a-advantage of your kindness, ma'am. I appreciate it, but I'll be fine." He stated.

A frown replaced the hopefulness on your face as you noticed the awful change in his demeanour. You weren't talking to Fives, the man, anymore. No, you were talking to Fives the ARC Trooper, CT-5555. You could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed, how his gaze hardened, how his chest puffed up and his shoulders stood to attention.

He's just like Echo.

Neither men preferred to face the difficulty of opening up to others, you noted. But whilst Echo would stutter and refuse, Fives completely shut down, solidified into a steel-strong soldier. But neither of them seemed to like accepting help, whether it be from a friend or a stranger.

Funny.

They truly were like twins, born of the same strand of DNA, or whatever the Kaminoans did, you thought.

With a heavy, disapproving sigh, you gave a slight nod of your head.

It seemed to surprise Fives, as you noticed that momentarily, miniscule raise of his thick brows. He definitely wanted you to be more pushy, but you had learned from Echo that that often led to nowhere.

"Do you have anywhere else to go? Anyone else to inform?" Your voice was soft when it reached his ears, and a defeated expression rested on your face. Since you wouldn't need to take care of Fives, your mind felt at ease enough to let in the new, yet still familiar feelings.

It took him a moment to respond, his throat having gone completely dry.

"Just a couple of friends, really. You were number one on that list so.. I- I guess I'll leave you to it." He half muttered, looking up at you. The kitchens' yellowy dandelion wallpaper behind your frame did very little to brighten up your features. Instead, it seemed to dull them, deep shadows were casted over your features as you frowned.

"Are you sure? You can stay longer if you'd like-"

"No! No, it's okay. Really. I'm on a tight schedule anyway, y'know, ARC Trooper things and all that." Fives insisted as he finally rose from his seat, rubbing his nape with one hand awkwardly.

This was his chance to get out of there, to escape the stuffy, small kitchen. It was like a rainy cloud had settled itself over your shoulders, and he wanted to be gone by the time it began to pour.

"Alright. I won't keep you here any longer. I-I'm sure you've wasted enough time here already." You muttered out as you followed suit, rising from your seat, albeit slower than Fives. 

Did you want to be alone? You weren't too sure. Some of your focus was still locked onto the man before you, worry gnawing away at your conscious. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." You followed up, rounding the rectangular, wooden table seated in the middle of your small kitchen.

Echo used to always nag at you, complaining it was too short for tall people like him. Interestingly enough, Fives had no intention of mentioning the height of the table.

Although Echo had told you many stories about Fives and the Domino Squad, it felt like the two had switched personalities. Your Echo seemed to behave more like Fives when around you, and Fives behaved more like Echo from the stories. 

Your arms were crossed over your chest as you led Fives to the door, and you caught a peek of his expression as you quickly peered over your shoulder. 

He seemed to tower over you as you bid your goodbyes, thanking him for coming all this way, and wishing for him to stay safe and get well. Your chest felt heavier as you unlocked the door, moving aside, observing him as he stepped out.

The dull greyness of the corridor outside did nothing but crumble any resolve that may have lingered within his chest. 

A lone, glaringly white light bulb flickered from time to time, doing very little to actually brighten up the space. It also seemed to wash out Fives' features, make his sun-kissed skin look paler, his eyes more somber, his frown look deadlier.

If anyone were to come by him, they'd tremble on the spot.

The corners of his lips seemed to twitch, just slightly, as he thought over what to say. What do you say to someone you're not sure you'll see again?

Your vocie beat him to is as you bid a short, yet comforting goodbye.

That was it then.

He waved you goodbye as he descended down the stairs, his gaze locking with yours one last time before he disappeared behind the concrete railing.

The distant sound of a hum accompanied your thoughts, the electrical cables working hard to provide light to that narrow corridor, becoming background noise to your running thoughts.

Would he be okay?

Maybe you should have given him your comm number, in case he'd wanna reach out. It was too late though, as his figure had already disappeared down the long staircase, the warmth of his gloved hands still lingering on yours.

The loud boom of the music bounced of the walls of 79s, and Fives' head. It was like a headache that just kept on going, and Fives was refusing to take pain meds, nullifiers. He didn't want the pain to stop. It was the only thing that kept him awake, aware, attentive to the fact that this was reality.

Many of his brothers had died; Domino Squad to be specific. Their deaths were all too sudden, just like Echo's. But he got past them, keeping his brothers memory alive on each and every mission he was sent to. But through all that, he had Echo by his side. And now, Echo was gone. 

How was he meant to get over his death? 

How was he meant to carry on?

How many of his brothers had gone through the same situation, lost their closest friends? Were forced to continue on into battle as though nothing had happened? Were they really, truly that expendable? Did they not mean anything to the Republic? To the Jedi?

Fives wasn't just a number. Echo wasn't just a number. Hevy, Cutup and Droidbait weren't just numbers. They were men, they were men with feelings and they were men who were filled with hopes and dreams for their futures. 

Echo wasn't just a number.

He suppressed a sob as he leaned forward, reaching for another shot glass, the pinkish liquid sparkled in the dim lights of 79s. 

Usually, he took his shots with pride. 

And now? Now he took them with shame, slamming the clear glass onto the table as he roughly wiped at his eyes. God. It burned so bad. But it also eased the pain, bit by bit until all he felt was fire burning through his lungs, and dizziness tugging at his vision. 

He couldn't go back to the GAR in this state. But who cared? He and the 501st had come back, completely and utterly wasted, many times too many. And nobody even batted an eyelash. On Kamino they'd get a thorough discplining, maybe even a smack on the back of the head. 

He was sure the old geezers back there would be more than happy to hand his ass back to him.

Kriff it, he thought.

One more shot.

The liquid burned, the taste smacking at his tastebuds like a blaster to the back of his head.

Another.

It went on for long enough for the barman to stop him, shaking his head disapprovingly at the trooper.

Getting up from his seat, Fives wished the liquid tasted as good as it looked. He thanked the barman and made his way to the exit. 

Where was he going? 

He wasn't sure. He just knew he needed to move. Or rather stumble.

Waking up to loud banging on your front door certainly wasn't your preferred method, but it was definitely an effective one.

"Kriffing hell, what time is it?" You mumbled, rubbing the sleep crust from your tired eyes. The old, digital clock on your bedside table read 0300, in big, bold neon green numbers, casting a gentle green glow on the otherwise pitch-black room.

Your heart pounded wildly, almost as harshly as whatever idiot was pounding on your door at bloody 3AM in the morning.

You already had a hard day, falling into your bedsheets just moments after Fives had left, thick, shiny tears quickly staining the soft material of your duvet a shade darker for the foreseeable future.

"Who do you think you are-" Your voice harshly cut through as you ripped your front door open, leaning forwards, just narrowly missing a black, gloved fist to your face. Your frown quickly dropped as you noticed the idiot behind the awful disruption, and your anger seemed to evaporate into thin air. "Fives?"

As he looked up, the sight of his honey-gold eyes and tear streaked face, had your heart dropping in an instant.

The sound of humming electricity above your head filled the silent hallway, mimicking the white noise inside of Fives's head as his drunken mind tried to scramble up some words.

The smell of strong vodka and whatever else invaded your senses, you couldn't help how fast your hand flew to cover your nose.

"Y/n..- I-I'm sorry-" He hiccupped, pressing one arm onto your doorframe, his figure towering over you. "I couldn't- I couldn't save him, he's dead. He's dead because of me!" Fives gasped out, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears pooled at his waterline.

"What? No no no!" You exclaimed, quickly opening your arms for him to fall into. "Shh, come on, it's okay." You whispered, easing him into your apartment with slow steps. You shut the door behind, seating him down on your sofa before you went back to lock your front door.

His sobs and hiccupped breaths filled the still silence of your small, colourful apartment. Rubbing at your sore eyes, you quickly fetched a glass of water for him before kneeling at his side.

"Here, drink this," You lifted the glass to his lips, letting him take slow sips, "Slowly, you'll feel sick."

You watched him carefully, taking the water away as he gasped out. Your sofa looked too small for the trooper, his frame easily taking up over almost half of the space. A grunt escaped his lips, and panic flooded you. 

This way going to be a long night..

[lxcalmenace]

I Was Wrong, If Only I Knew.

When the usually so cold and reserved Rin Itoshi agreed to go out for dinner with you, you couldn't help getting excited but also a part in you was awfully suspicious of his sudden change in his behavior. You finally learnt the despondent truth when it was time to meet for the dinner.

A Rin Itoshi series (on-going)

Highschool AU

Chapter 2 Masterlist Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Always By Your Side

Gn! Y/n

Tw: Swearing

Taglist (open)

@hellothere9597 @ririgards @legoome @dtaliah

-----------------------------------------☆

You needed answers, no you DESERVED answers. Rin was sitting here, kissing some random girl instead of meeting up with you. Blood now boiling, you made your way towards the group when suddenly, your vision was blacked out. Shidou had refrained your vision by putting his hands over your eyes. Although you couldn't see anything you could clearly hear Shidou cursing them as the room falls quiet slowly.

"Y/n....? I can exp-" You could hear Rin mumble but was quickly interrupted by the Blonde by your side.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP. Y/N DOESN'T NEED TO HEAR ANY OF YOUR BULLSHIT ANYMORE!" Shidou snapped.

You could sense the anger boiling in Shidou as he dragged you out of the party. Not remembering anything much after that, you found yourself sitting in your balcony, sipping on your favourite drink while rain was pouring outside with the occasional thundering. You were completely calm tho. No tears and no sadness. You were just...you? Just your normal self. To be honest, you lowkey saw this coming; after all, he was the 'one and only Rin' You weren't affected much because you had already prepared for the worse; and it definitely helped right now.

.

.

.

.

The soft sunrays pouring in through your window woke you up. 9:03 A.M. Getting up, you made your way to your bathroom and freshened up. You grabbed your phone and sat down on the sofa, turning on your everyday playlist and turned on your phone. As expected, you had some comforting texts from your best friend but what you didn't expect was Rin texting you.

36 messages from Rin <3

You ignored them and simply blocked his number. You do not need his apologies. Absolutely not when you're trying to forget him. The damage has already been done and you don't want to waste your weekend crying over a random boy who you already knew would break your heart some day. You turned off your phone, got up and made your way towards the kitchen to make breakfast. Shidou came over for lunch and he brought you your favourite chocolates and a cute dragon plushie. You had to reassure him from time to time that you were alright and finally at the end of the day he was relieved and believed you. He stayed the night at your apartment and you both fell asleep at 2 am after playing 'Just Dance' and ordering pizza. Honestly, Shidou's company made you feel a lot better. He was like your other half; always by your side no matter if it's the sun or the rain.

.

.

.

.

Saturday rolled up. Beginning your day with some upbeat music while Shidou was preparing the breakfast. He might not seem to be a type of guy who cooks but he surprisingly makes really good food. You both were having breakfast when someone rang your doorbell. Getting up from your chair, you made way towards the door and opened it. The happiness on your face was now replaced with something representing bitterness. Eyes now wide, your body froze in its place. You never expected this, not once.

Why? Why now out of all times? Can't he just leave me alone? I've seen enough already. Don't want to see his face, hear his voice. Just be gone already! I hate him- I hate you Rin Itoshi

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

A/n : So sorry that I had been gone for so long. I was really really busy with school work (and I definitely didn't forget that I had a tumblr acc) Well here's part 3. Hope you have a great day. ^^

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

ch. 5: A Safe Place to Land - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 4.6k words. After an unexpected breakup with her long-term boyfriend, y/n had one goal: to keep her head down and finish her travel nursing contract as soon as possible. That was until Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw derailed her plan entirely. Just as y/n finished picking up the pieces of her broken heart, Rooster came along and showed y/n what it’s like to be loved again–if only she’ll let him in.

chapter playlist: “Never Til Now” by Ashley Cooke and Brett Young, “You Matter to Me” from Waitress

Warnings: nothing crazy! lots of fluff, several pinches of angst, some cursing. multiple allusions to 18+ content & smut, but nothing graphic. i’m too much of a wimp to write smut but one day i’ll get there

a/n: hello hello! this chapter was a long time coming, but i’m so happy with how it turned out. i hope you guys like it!! thank u for ur patience & support xx

series master list | master list

The phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” is nice in theory. It’s a mantra y/n repeated to herself several times over the years when she missed her family and friends while traveling. She now found out that this mantra didn’t work as well when her not-boyfriend was somewhere on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean. 

In Rooster’s absence, y/n returned to her hermit ways. On her days off from work, she’d spend countless hours reading, binge-watching shows, online shopping, and her favorite activity of all: napping. She ventured to the beach a few times but found that it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable without Bradley by her side. y/n reminisced about Rooster spinning her around until they both got dizzy or dunking her in the water, just for her to pull him in after her until they were both soaked and sore from laughing.

Over the course of the three-week mission, y/n wore Rooster’s clothes more than she wore her own. The hoodie she stole was a staple of her nightly Netflix sessions and she often fell asleep in the shirts Bradley ‘accidentally’ left at her house.

The only thing that could tempt y/n off the couch in the evenings were the sporadic calls she shared with Bradley. She jumped every time her phone rang, leaping over the coffee table and sprinting towards the counter her phone was on, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t Bradley. The few times that he was on the other end of the phone talking to her made her forget all her woes.

There were a couple times y/n missed Rooster’s calls because she was at work. Aside from the sad sinking feeling inside, she felt like shit. Bradley always made sure to leave a voicemail. Though he did miss hearing her voice, he was never bitter when y/n missed his calls; she had a job to do, just like him.

y/n was comforted by the way her bed sheets still smelled like Rooster. Old spice and jet fuel and safety. She desperately clung to the remnants of Bradley’s lingering presence in her home. The night she felt the most alone was the same night her sheets stopped smelling like him. Despite her desire to hang on to any trace of Rooster, she was overdue to wash her bedding. She laid awake that night, tossing and turning in her fresh clean sheets. Had her bed always been this cold?

Instead of being lulled to sleep as she inhaled the comforting aroma as she’d done for the past two weeks, y/n found herself turning to Bradley’s voice for comfort. She had three months' worth of random voicemails he’d left her. 

His morning voice drifted from the speakers–the voicemail in question was delivered before 6 a.m. a little over a month ago. Rooster wanted to call to say good morning before a god-awfully early training session, but y/n was still fast asleep.

“Hey, baby. Just wanted to say good morning. It’s…” Rooster paused to look at the clock on his dash. “5:29 a.m. So you’re probably still asleep. Which is a good thing, because this is way too fucking early to be up and moving,” he cleared some of the morning grog from his throat. “Anyway… I’ll talk to you later. Have a good day, darlin’.”

y/n smiled warmly as his words rolled over her. She remembered how they spent the evening after his training. Bradley and y/n had planned to watch a movie or two at home, but they both fell asleep against each other on the couch by 8:30 p.m.

The next voicemail featured a very tipsy Rooster. y/n would dare to say drunk, but Rooster prided himself on not getting drunk because he was a self-proclaimed heavyweight. Lively chatter from The Hard Deck could be heard in the background. Bradley didn’t go out with his coworkers nearly as much as he did before he met y/n, so on the rare occasion that y/n worked night shifts, Bradley distracted himself from his loneliness by hanging around his old stomping ground.

“Hey! y/n! Oh, shit, you’re working,” Bradley pouted, suddenly remembering the reason he went to the bar in the first place. “I miss you. Pool isn’t nearly as fun without you,” he cut himself off with a chuckle then a heavy sigh. He wasn’t wasted, but he definitely wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

The rest of his words weren't quite intelligible. y/n suspected Bradley got roped into a game of darts or was handed another shot based on the groan he let out before the message ended.

The final voicemail y/n listened to before drifting off to sleep was from just a few days ago, directly from the aircraft carrier’s satellite phone.

“Hi, baby. It’s me.” y/n could tell from his voice alone that he was exhausted. The communications room on the ship was mostly quiet. Rooster all but sprinted there to be first in line to make a phone call home. There was a brief pause of silence before Bradley spoke again. “God, I miss you so much. I can’t wait to get back home to you… take care of yourself for me, okay?” Rooster sighed heavily.

At the end of the message, Rooster let out a deep exhale–like there was something else to say, but the words couldn’t quite escape his lips.

Bradley Bradshaw had been holding himself back from saying three little words since the day he was deployed. He almost told y/n he loved her right before he left her house the morning of his mission. In the peaceful quiet of the early morning darkness, Bradley realized he was irrevocably and unequivocally in love with y/n y/l/n.

He convinced himself that it would’ve been cruel to tell y/n he loved her for the first time just before he left for a mission. What if he didn’t come back? Not only would she be left grieving Rooster, but she’d also be stuck mourning everything that could’ve been. Bradley couldn’t bear to burden her with that.

So the words were left unsaid for the time being. Every time Rooster and y/n spoke on the phone, I love you was perched on the tip of his tongue. With each passing day, the words rattled around his brain and begged to be said out loud.

That all changed after a close call during one of the mission flights. Rooster toed the line between risky and deadly a little too haphazardly. He noticed the enemy missiles soaring towards him far later than he should’ve, but just in the knick of time to launch his own flares and avoid the fiery explosion. The aftermath of the missile attack sent Bradley into a mental tailspin.

Rooster concluded that dying without ever having told y/n he loved her simply wasn’t an option. A world in which y/n never knew just how much she meant to Bradley was unfathomable.

But she deserved better than being told I love you for the first time from a satellite phone with spotty reception. No, Rooster needed to be sure she heard every word he was saying. He needed her to see just how much he meant it; how his words were the absolute truth. He wanted–no, craved–to hold y/n in his arms and hold her gaze with his own when he finally confessed his feelings.

On the other side of the world y/n mindlessly scrolled through her email while one of Rooster’s vinyl records played softly in the background.

A few weeks ago, y/n got a record player for her house because Rooster stated that vinyl “just sounds better.” She rarely touched the record player; it was pretty much reserved for Rooster’s use exclusively whenever he was at her house. Of course, the compromise wasn’t one-sided. Rooster caved and bought a bluetooth speaker so y/n could play her seemingly countless playlists.

“Why listen to one album at a time when you could listen to a hundred different songs on shuffle?!” y/n argued enthusiastically. She was over the moon about Rooster’s latest purchase. The small speaker sitting on the kitchen counter had y/n pulling Bradley off the couch and into an uncoordinated dance.

“This is so stressful,” Rooster whined when there was an abrupt shift from Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” to “You Outta Know” by Alanis Morissette. If it weren’t for y/n’s wide grin and bright eyes, Rooster might’ve second guessed the purchase.

In Bradley’s absence, the record player was the only thing she’d been listening to music on. In fact, she was listening to Rooster’s albums exclusively. Less than a day had passed after y/n bought and set up the record player when he brought over a box of vinyl records. y/n sat on Bradley’s lap on her living room floor, his arms wrapped around her waist, as she thumbed through the box. Her eyebrows knitted together when she saw that more than half of the box was full of his favorite records.

“Roos, these are your favorites,” y/n said, confusion in her tone as she pulled out a Jerry Lee Lewis album to prove her point. “Why are you leaving them here?” Bradley nestled his head further into her neck and pressed a gentle kiss against her pulse point.

“So you can develop taste,” he teased jokingly. y/n scoffed and lightly swatted his arm with her free hand. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned y/n around in his lap to face him. “I’m over here a lot anyways. We can listen to them together,” he suggested before pressing a sweet kiss against her lips.

y/n’s reminiscing was cut short when three new emails stopped her in her tracks. Her stomach dropped when she realized they were all new contract offers from the travel healthcare agencies she worked with. Each of the contracts she was sent were in one of her ‘bucket list’ cities. One in particular was a contract she’d been hoping for for years–it was a specialty trauma center job in Boston. The other two contracts nearly made her eyes bug out of her head; the salary was almost double what she was currently making at the base hospital.

Three months ago, signing any of the offered contracts would’ve been a no-brainer.

When y/n was with Ethan, she factored his deployments and where he’d be stationed into deciding what contracts she would accept. But she never held back or hesitated to sign a dream contract thousands of miles away, even if it meant they wouldn’t see each other for quite a while.

From the very first moment y/n arrived at the Navy base, she couldn’t wait to leave. She was desperate to erase any trace of Ethan from her life.

Now? Her chest tightened just thinking about how far away each of the jobs were.

y/n had a wanderlust soul for as long as she could remember. She was happiest when she was on the move, jumping from city to city, coast to coast. It could be a lonely lifestyle, but it was something of her own. Something she could control. 

y/n wasn’t averse to commitment; she had a wedding board on Pinterest up until three months ago. Staying in one place and setting down roots never seemed to interest her though.

Not until now.

Now, she had something to stick around for. y/n couldn’t remember the last time she felt like she had a true home. The Navy base wasn’t her home, not by a long shot, but Bradley Bradshaw sure as hell felt like one.

For the first time, she considered staying.

The thought of her contract ending soon had been eating y/n alive for the past few weeks. The realization that staying at North Island, staying with Rooster, was an option threw her for a loop. She’d been on the go for so long that she forgot what it felt like to settle down. After that revelation, all of y/n’s missing pieces seemed to fall into place. The relief she felt was unmatched by anything she’d ever felt before. The weight of the world and her heavy heart vanished, replaced by a feeling of wholeness. Unfortunately, it was short-lived; killed off by a dark thought creeping into her mind.

What if Rooster didn’t want her to stay?

After pulling into y/n’s driveway, Rooster shut the door of his bronco as quietly as he could. He fished the front door’s spare key from underneath a potted plant, unlocked the door, and shut it silently behind him. He found his quiet movements weren’t really necessary when he heard one of his ‘80s vinyl records playing loudly. The electric guitar riffs and heavy drum solos all but blocked out every other noise—save for y/n’s loud singing and the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as she cooked dinner.

Rooster came to the end of the hall and leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, watching y/n dance around while she used a spatula as a microphone. She looked so happy and carefree; Bradley almost felt bad for interrupting her solo dance party. Almost, but not enough to stop himself.

When there’s a brief pause in between tracks, punctuated by crackling from the record player, Bradley cleared his throat. y/n shrieked and jumped, her eyes shooting wide open as she flung the spatula in her hand with the force of an Olympic javelin thrower toward the source of the noise. Rooster narrowly dodged the projectile metal utensil flying past his head.

Bradley turned to y/n with a surprised smirk, impressed by her aim. Once she registered that it was Rooster standing in her kitchen and not an intruder (she’d been watching a lot of Criminal Minds to pass the time), her jaw dropped and she stood frozen in place.

Bradley and y/n hadn’t spoken in several days. With the mission coming to its end, Rooster was busier than ever. When he wasn’t flying, in briefings, or going over flight plans and strategies until his brain turned to mush, he was savoring every spare moment he could get to scarf down a meal in mere minutes or sleep.

Bradley told y/n he’d be back in North Island on a Friday. That was true at the time. Just over a week into the mission, plans changed. The timeline was moved up, making the crew substantially busier, but it also meant they’d be back to the base on Thursday, a full day earlier. Rooster might have left out this development during the brief phone calls he shared with y/n.

When the shock wore off, y/n launched herself at Bradley, nearly knocking him backward in the process. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were linked behind his neck, clinging to him like her life depended on it. If it were anyone else, Rooster might’ve protested the way y/n’s limbs constricted around him tighter than he thought possible, making his muscles ache and his lungs strain for air. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was y/n.

So, the aviator held her just as tight, burying his face into her hair and pressing gentle kisses throughout. Bradley hoped that the hug could tell y/n everything his words couldn’t.

y/n let up from squeezing Rooster to pull back and look at him. Her eyes dotted across his face in disbelief, like she wasn’t sure he was real. Her fingers traced across his sun-kissed cheeks, memorizing each new freckle, before ghosting her thumb over his bottom lip. The heavy beating of his heart against her chest and his calloused hands rubbing the bottoms of her thighs let her know he was really there. Bradley delivered a pinch to her ass with a smirk, further solidifying that she wasn’t dreaming.

She was still at a loss for words, so she did the next best thing. y/n kissed Bradley hard and deep, mustering as much of the three weeks’ worth of longing as she possibly could into a single kiss. She was quick to take charge as their tongues danced together, but Rooster soon gained dominance. He backed y/n up against a wall, his muscled thigh holding her weight as one hand tangled in her hair and the other explored the curves he’d missed so dearly. 

Their lips stayed locked until they damn near turned blue. Both of their eyes were wild as they pulled apart. Few words were exchanged before they began stumbling towards y/n’s bedroom, only making it halfway before they collapsed onto the couch.

The dinner on the stove was long forgotten.

Bradley laid in a daze on the couch, chest rising and falling as y/n grabbed water from the kitchen for them. He propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see y/n sauntering back in wearing his old Navy t-shirt with a glass in each hand. He licked his lips as he took in her appearance. Her hair was a mess, thanks to him, yet it still framed her face in breathtaking trusses. Her swollen red lips were almost as gorgeous as the mischievous grin she wore, her eyes glimmering as she took Bradley in.

He sat back in awe, his lips parted in the dopey grin y/n occasionally teased him for. This is it, he thought. Rooster hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since his days at UVA, and even then they were few and far between. Technically, he and y/n weren’t dating, but he was ready to spend the rest of forever with her.

Once Bradley’s haze wore away, he remembered one of the many things he’d been planning to ask y/n once he got back. His fingers brushed against hers as she handed him the glass of water before she curled into the other end of the couch with her feet resting in Bradley’s lap.

“So… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Bradley began while he gently massaged her calves. “The Navy ball is in three weeks. I honestly don’t like going to these events, but I’m in the running to win an award so I have to at least show my face. I was wondering… if you’d like to go with me? As my date?” he asked hesitantly. Rooster hoped y/n didn’t catch the way he nervously gulped in between sentences.

y/n looked like a deer caught in headlights. She was hoping to delay this conversation for another day at least. She just wanted one night to exist in their happy little bubble. But reality was bound to set in, whether she liked it or not.

Maybe this is when the other shoe drops, y/n thought. Things had been so good, maybe even too good, for the past few months. All good things come to an end, and she feared this was it.

So, she sucked in a breath and put on a brave face. She’d gotten pretty skilled at masking her emotions over the years, but Bradley saw right through her. He was always able to, right from the beginning.

“Roos, I would love to, it’s just um… my contract, it uh- it ends in a week,” y/n finished meekly, rushing the words out. It got really quiet then.

More emotions than y/n could count flashed across Rooster’s face before he finally sat up straight to look at her, his eyes never wavering from her face. His heartbroken look had her regretting every second she didn’t let him know she’d be leaving soon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley asked, his voice quiet. y/n couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked down at her hands twisted in her lap and willed the water rimming her eyes to go away. When her tears started to fall, Bradley moved down the couch and held her face, gently wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

y/n sniffled and met his eyes, placing her hand over his against her cheek.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me while you were away,” she smiled sadly. “I didn’t want to distract you, and I didn’t want to mess up what we have going here. I don’t want to mess up what we have,” y/n emphasized at the end, holding Bradley’s gaze and making sure he heard her. She was bound to cry harder if she stayed on the same train of thought, so she switched to the facts.

She told Bradley about her contract, its duration and her official end date. She told him what her options were going forward and about the three new contracts she’d already been offered. Rooster heard what she said, but it wasn’t all processing. He was lost in his head and maybe caught every three words. y/n took a deep breath before she spoke again.

“I was thinking about-“

“Stay.” Bradley blurted out, eyes wide once he realized what he said out loud.

“-staying,” y/n finished with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He took the words right out of her mouth.

Bradley, whose mind was still running a mile a minute, hadn’t processed y/n’s admission yet and dove into an on-the-fly plan to talk y/n into staying.

“You could find another contract around here! Or extend the one on base? You could take some time off. You could stay with me for a bit! Or I can help you with rent if you’re worried about that when you’re not working. Shit, that’s a lot, but the point is-” Bradley continued, bordering on manic, his hands waving around as he spoke mostly to himself.

y/n shushed him and cupped his face in her palms, just like he had moments ago.

“Bradley, did you hear me?” y/n asks slowly, enunciating every word. Rooster huffs.

“Unfortunately, yes. Your contract is almost over and you’re leaving,” he left out the “me” at the end, but there was an unspoken understanding that it belonged there. The typically confident and bright-eyed aviator looked heartbroken and lost. y/n hated that she made him feel like that, even for a second.

“No, Brad. I mean yeah, my contract is almost up, but I’m thinking about staying. If you’ll tolerate me hanging around,” y/n said with a wink, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Are you serious?” Rooster’s face is void of emotion, just wide eyes and a slack jaw as he waited for her answer.

“Yeah, if that’s oka-” before y/n could finish, Bradley jumped off the couch and scooped her up with him. He spun them around in a dizzying circle, pressing his lips against hers with a force that almost rivaled their earlier kiss in the kitchen.

y/n laughed as Rooster peppered kisses across her face when he finally put her down, keeping his hands planted firmly on her hips even after he was sure she had a stable footing.

“That’s okay with you? If I stay?” y/n asked with a hesitant grin, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. She found none.

“That’s more than okay. That’s- that’s everything,” Bradley chuckled breathlessly, pulling y/n into him by her hips. With her face mere inches from his, he rested his forehead against hers. “Please don’t go,” he whispered, eyes shut as he held his breath.

“I think I can manage that,” y/n said with a cheeky smile. Bradley chuckled again; deep and full and happy. He pulled her against him and locked his lips with hers until his lungs ached.

The burning reminded him of his brush with death on the mission and all the things he would’ve never been able to say. When their lips finally pulled apart, Bradley held y/n at arm's length so he could look her in the eye.

“I love you,” Bradley stated like it was a fact. Because it was. y/n gasped, one hand gripping his arm tight as she took a step back in shock. His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath, but his head was absolutely clear. Bradley recognized the shock and maybe even a hint of fear on y/n’s face and he understood. Hell, he was scared out of his mind when he first realized just how in love with y/n he was. He smiled and shook his head, tracing his fingers soothingly along her exposed skin. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just need you to know. I love you, y/n.”

Tears brimmed y/n’s eyes and her face cracked into a wide smile.

“Take me to bed, Bradshaw.”

Rooster and y/n’s legs were tangled together underneath her sheets as they came down from their respective highs, both deeply sated.

y/n was absolutely spent—it had been a rollercoaster of an evening. Her eyes were on the verge of fluttering shut, her hair was wildly spread across the pillow, and a thin layer of sweat covered most of her skin. Rooster was certain she’d never looked more beautiful. y/n would’ve scoffed at him if he said that out loud. Moonlight streamed through the open window blinds, highlighting y/n’s features. It also illuminated a hickey Bradley was sure she’d give him shit about later, but for now, he enjoyed the sight.

Bradley ran his fingers through y/n’s hair and kissed her temple before speaking softly.

“y/n, baby,” he cooed quietly to get her attention. In her tired state, y/n simply offered him a small hum and turned into his chest, giving him what remained of her attention.

“How would you feel about making things official?” Rooster asked as casually as he could, poorly veiling his anxiousness. y/n laughed breathlessly and entwined her fingers with his before rolling halfway on top of him. She reached up to caress his jaw with her free hand, finally opening her tired eyes to meet his.

Bradley was nervous. He was holding his breath; y/n knew this because his chest wasn’t moving anymore, she could only feel the steady thump thump of his heart beating against hers. Whether y/n knew it or not, she held Bradley’s heart in her hands. It was hers to break or have forever, and this was the deciding moment.

“I’d like that a lot,” y/n whispered, a sleepy smile spread across her face before she closed the gap between them.

“Good,” Rooster said gruffly against y/n’s lips before he flipped her over, pinning her beneath his body once again. y/n’s contagious laughter cut through the darkness as Bradley’s mustached lip traced down the side of her body.

Three months after the most fateful ER trip of his life, Rooster had never been so happy to have his arm sliced open and get stitches. He’d been on the run for most of his adult life; he forgot what it was like to have a home. For the first time in a long time, staying still didn’t terrify him. Bradley thanked his lucky stars that the woman wrapped in his arms decided to stick around and settle down with him.

After flying solo for so long, Bradley Bradshaw finally found a safe place to land.

a/n: AHHH?!? pls lmk what y'all think!! there's one final part for this series -- the ✨epilogue✨ i'm so excited about it omg. have a good day & stay safe luvs <33

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Well, that was certainly 50-ish minutes. It was all just rather awful, wasn't it? I'm going to say it now, I can think of very few things to compliment about Casualty at the moment.

Of course, it centred mostly on storylines I either outright hate (e.g. anything to do with Faith) or just think haven't been handled well (e.g. the Teddy/Paige engagement). So it's likely I'd think that. Also, I would've appreciated a CW before the ep. Normally there would be one for one like this, wouldn't there?

Thank goodness for Jacob, who kept an almost unwatchable ep for me afloat. Was his character used well? Not particularly. But I'm glad he was in it at all.

I am tired, though, of Jacob only seeming to be there to comfort or reassure Iain half the time. Can't he have any storylines/scenes that centre on him for once? Can't the show care about his trauma too? It doesn't feel like it. I already ranted about that yesterday so I won't go on about it for that long again, but I'm very bitter about how Jacob's storyline seems to have been forgotten.

The random song use was terribly done and I hated it. I don't necessarily mind songtages. There were plenty of good ones on Holby. There have even been decent ones on Casualty. But this was just terrible. At least "Teardrop" is a good song, if it had been one I hated I don't know what I'd do lol. It did bring me thoughts of summer 2020 Holby, though. Summer 2020 Holby was good, I will forever keep saying that. It was certainly much better than this.

I still just feel very sorry for Natalia, and even for Iain. Faith is just horrible and I'm tired of her making everything about herself. I've been in situations emotionally similar to Natalia's before, so I understand a lot of where she's coming from and feel so sorry for her. Obviously Iain was doing the right thing by not letting her kiss him, but I do get why she must be feeling so alone and upset after that.

Casualty, what happened to the days when you were good at handling disability? Given how the Harry storyline has been handled - IMO, terribly - I'm not at all optimistic that the show will handle anything about Rida's autistic cousin well either. Which makes me sad, because when Rida first mentioned having a disabled relative I was so interested about what the storyline would be and now I'm just like "oh, it'll be handled awfully, won't it".

I miss Jade. I remember her brilliantly done centric ep.

If the Teddy and Paige breakup lasts, I'm glad. There were interesting things that could have been done with this relationship but I don't think the show has done basically any of them. The engagement was almost entirely pointless. I hope both characters get better storylines now.

Max is definitely never going to get any sort of well-done resolution to his storyline or to his ambiguous backstory, is he? His and Jodie's storyline has seemed basically irrelevant recently and surely it can't be more than a few weeks now before his exit. Sigh.

So, needless to say, I'm not very impressed this week. I can only hope next week will be better, and centre characters and storylines I like instead. And while we're at it, can Ngozi please get a storyline?

[thenamesblurrito]

💚 🎤 🌠 Maccadam?

Maccadam for the emoji asks! this guy is so important we love him

GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

oh this is cute. um, quality time, i think. just sitting there knowing someone else is with you and you aren't alone. he likes being surrounded by people so good company, some cuddles, maybe making good food together is comforting to him

MICROPHONE - are they good at singing? what is their go-to karaoke song?

this mech has perfect pitch, and yet still can't carry a tune. he just can't reliably string together the notes into a song! he's good with simple lullabies, and humming as he works, but he's not the best singer. that said, he's not above being pulled into karaoke at his bar by teasing patrons. i think he'd go along with whatever song choice they provided, but he likes songs along the lines of Summertime Sadness or You'll Be In My Heart

SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

oo. uh. hm! i think Maccadam is pretty content with his life, so he'd be using his wish on behalf of other people. perhaps the reintegration of junkers into society, or the safety of all his fellow JAAT faculty, or even simply that the bitter, lonely librarian who occasionally skulks around the cafeteria would be a little less sad. he seems awfully burdened for a well-to-do Trion

[angeldiaries777]

I just miss the intensity of the pain I used to feel. it’s all subsided wow I’m numb everything is repetitive now

I used to feel pain so intensely it was euphoric it was an experience it was a performance almost. Back then I prayed to be numb to everything so I would never have to experience that type of all consuming pain I used to feel daily now I miss it almost. Not that I want bad things to happen to me. Bad things still happen yet It doesn’t feel like the end of the world anymore. The other night I got a really similar feeling but instead of pain it was pure anger and it reminded me how much I truly missed not trying how much I missed being barely 15 and so ill. Now it feels like everything has a consequence and I can’t behave how I did for so long. I’m tired of picking myself back up again. I wanna lay down forever and not move a muscle and just stay that way till the day I die. Why did I take that time in my life for granted???? It was hell. But I’d rather be in hell than be in the sad cold bitter reality. Yes it was depressing but I was depressed and fully embracing it. I genuinely didn’t care if I lived or died and did anything and everything whenever I wanted. Now that I’ve set these expectations and have rules for myself and discipline life is so boring. The real world seems awful I just wanna rot in my room. And no on understands. Everyone thinks I’m insane and I honestly Hadn’t given it thought. I miss when words hurt me. I miss when I was being abused and treated awfully. I miss it. I miss not caring about my future because I didn’t have to. I miss when I loved being alone and now I resent it.

[katelynnwrites]

pairing: Jessie Fleming x f!Reader

warnings: significant injury and mentions of blood

word count: 2178

summary: everything’s changing but you should have trusted and known that you would be safe with jessie. she’d break down all your walls and make a home in your heart

a/n: this one is heavy on the feels, i wrote it and then realised taylor swift’s song, everything has changed fits nicely with it

Everything Has Changed

And your eyes look like comin’ home, all I know is a simple name. Everything has changed.

‘Hey. Can we talk?’ Jessie asks anxiously.

You blink, ‘Should I be worried?’

‘No. It’s nothing bad just-’ The small Canadian tugs you into your shared bedroom, waiting until you’re both settled down, sitting cross legged across each other.

She doesn’t let go of your hand, biting her lip hard before asking, ‘Do you ever think about getting married?’

You inhale sharply and Jessie feels her stomach drop.

‘Would you want to get married?’ She whispers, heart cracking when you let go of her hand.

‘I-’

Running your hand through your hair, you sigh.

‘I don’t know Jessie. We’re still young and I love you, I really do but I-’

Your girlfriend swallows hard, trying her best not to show how disappointed she was.

‘It’s okay. I can wait.’

Her words were soft but you can see how much your answer hurt her, even though she tried to hide it.

******

She asks again, a month later but the hesitation in your gaze nearly kills her.

‘Look, we don’t have to get married now or even next year just please think about it.’ Jessie says.

‘Jess I swear I have. I love you more than anything and I can’t give you an answer right now but just know that the problem isn’t with you, it’s with me.’ You tell her, guilt weighing on you.

You would do anything to make your girlfriend happy but you just couldn’t give her what she wanted.

The Chelsea midfielder’s usually bright brown eyes dim but she gives you a tiny smile, all that she could manage at that moment.

‘Okay.’

******

She continues trying, every few months, only to receive an answer she didn’t want. Every two months or so she asks if you had given it more thought.

You had been together for five years and had known each other for seven years. After graduating from UCLA together, you had both signed for Chelsea, making the move from California to London.

You knew she loved you and you loved her with everything you had but you still couldn’t say yes.

Jessie never pushed you, just gently asked if you’d please consider it.

Eventually it becomes less frequent, four months passing before she asks again, a slight pleading edge to her voice.

When she sees the way your body tenses up at her words, she starts to leave the room, barely able to stop the tears from falling.

‘Jessie…’ You reach out to touch her hand in apology but she pulls it back, shaking her head.

‘Please don’t. I respect your answer but I need some time to be alone.’ Your girlfriend whispers shakily and your heart aches as you let her go.

******

It nearly crushed you to give her so much sadness and you thought about her question all the time. You loved her. you really did, more than anyone and anything you’d ever loved before but you had seen the way your parents’ marriage dissolved, seen the way they had taken their unhappiness out on each other and on you. It terrified you that one day you’d end up like them, bitter at each other and the world.

It had been slightly past a year since Jessie had first asked you that oh so important question when you walk out onto the pitch for a game. It was just a pre-season friendly, no pressure at all but it ends awfully.

The other team was three goals down in the seventy eighth minute as both teams line up for a corner in Chelsea’s favour. You see the ball curve towards the goal and everyone jumps up.

There’s a loud yell and a sickening crack as a player collides with another before there’s another louder noise as the first player’s head hits the side of the goal as she goes down.

The player that goes down is Jessie. Your Jessie.

All hell breaks loose the second after, you falling onto your knees beside the small Canadian and frantically trying to stop the bleeding. Magda’s screaming for the medics, several other players in tears at the horrific sight.

******

Jessie is injured badly, the head injury had knocked her unconscious immediately and it bled so much that you had actually wondered if she was going to make it.

At her hospital bed, you hold her hand tightly. You don’t quite remember how you got there, it was a blur, the way you had run off the pitch and followed Jessie into the ambulance. All you could recall was waiting absolutely petrified, while the doctors took her away to be looked over.

‘Please wake up Jess. Please.’ You beg. Your club teammates were in the waiting room outside, wanting to give the two of you some privacy.

******

It’s been hours but you couldn’t sleep, the terrible scene playing over and over every time you close your eyes.

Running your thumb over her knuckles, you kiss them gently.

Resting your head on the edge of her bed, you can’t stop the tears from finally falling.

The Canadian looked even smaller than she usually did, her head wrapped up and her face pale. There were no traces of her trademark blush and that unsettled you far more than you could care to admit.

You’re so focused on the fact that you almost miss her fingers twitch.

‘Jess?’ You breathe hoping that you weren’t imagining it.

Your girlfriend groans weakly and you exhale in relief when her eyes finally flutter open.

‘Oh thank god Jessie.’

Leaning over, you kiss her so gently, with infinite care, crying softly while she insists that she’s okay.

Pulling back, you squeeze her hand tightly as she brings her free hand up to touch the bandage covering most of her head.

She had a deep gash that had to be stitched up and a skull fracture that the doctors had reassured you would heal in time. Jessie had been administered a lot of painkillers and you were certain she would be on them for a while.

‘Are you in pain? Do I need to call the doctor?’ You worriedly ask.

The Canadian slowly shakes her head, bits and pieces fitting together as she realises where she is and what happened.

‘No. I’m alright really.’ She assures you.

Seeing the way you didn’t relax, she smiles at you.

‘I’m fine love, I have you and that’s all I need.’

Your heart stops for a second, emotion choking you. It’s overwhelming and it hits you so hard it practically knocks all the air out of you.

‘Jessie?’

‘What is it?’ The midfielder hums, eyes never leaving you.

‘Will you marry me?’

She freezes.

‘I'm going to need you to say that again.’ She breathes.

‘Will you marry me? Because I don't want to live in a world without you. I don't want to go a day without you by my side. You Jessie Alexandra Fleming are everything to me. I love you so much and I'll never stop. So will you please marry me and never leave me?’

The words fall out of your mouth and you’ve never meant anything more.

‘Yes. Yes of course I will.’ Jessie's sobbing so hard but she’s never been happier. She grips your hand like it’s her lifeline, willing it not to be a dream. She didn’t think she could handle waking up if it was.

Pressing up against the hospital bed, you hold her as close as you could and eventually she sniffles, ‘What changed your mind?’

‘You.’

Your reply is simple, because that’s all it was. Her. She was a far better person than either of your parents and you knew that she would never treat you the way they did. Jessie cared deeply for you, in a way your parents had never done.

She loved you, you saw it everyday and that steadfast love made all your fears, anxieties and worries melt away. You’d never thought marriage was something you would want until you met her.

‘I've always loved you Jessie. You know that. When you first asked me if I wanted to marry you I wanted to say yes. I really did but I couldn't because I kept thinking about my parents and how getting married only ended with them hating each other. I couldn't bear that ever happening to us so I thought if I said no we’d be okay. I saw how much that hurt you but I thought that was better than us ending badly.’

You swallow hard, carefully touching the bandage on her head.

‘But then you got hurt. And I have never been more terrified in my life. You were just lying there and there was blood everywhere and then it honestly seemed like I was going to have to live without you. From the first time we met, I knew I never wanted you to leave my life but I never really realised it until you weren’t moving. You were so still it looked like you were dead Jess.’

You were crying again just thinking about it and Jessie tightens her hold on your hand, giving you the courage to go on.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, ‘Then it all seemed so silly. Everything I thought about before didn’t matter because nothing matters without you. You couldn’t be more different than my parents and I'm sorry it took me so long to understand that you will never hurt me.’

Jessie lets out a small sob, covering her mouth as you take in another deep breath.

‘We’ve been so happy together, all my favourite memories either start or end with you. Being with you has been the best time of my life and I've always been at my happiest with you. I'd like to think I do the same for you.’

‘You do. Everyday I thank my lucky stars for bringing me you.’ She whispers.

‘That’s why I want to marry you Jess. You bring out the best of me and make me constantly strive to be the best version of myself for you. You make life worth living and I can’t imagine living my life without you, I swear I’ll never hurt you again, not the way I’ve done. Jessie, I promise I’ll always put you first and do my best to make you happy.’

‘I'm also sorry I don't have a ring because I didn't plan this at all.’ You laugh a little at the last part and Jessie giggles.

‘Don’t worry about it. I was never big on jewellery anyway.’

Your girlfriend, now fiancee rests her palm over your heart, feeling the steady calming beats while you look at her, finally feeling like you could breathe again.

How had you gotten so lucky with her? What had you done to deserve her?

The small Canadian girl grins, tilting her head up to look at you. It makes your heart lighten and you teasingly say, ‘So it's fine if we don’t get rings?’

Jessie frowns immediately.

‘No. I want to show everyone that you’re mine and I'm yours.’

You giggle and nudge her, ‘Okay Jessie.’

All I know is you held the door. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.

The both of you stay silent for a while, taking the moment in and simply enjoying each other’s presence until you break it.

‘I hope you know that it wasn’t easy to keep saying no to you.’

The last thing you wanted her to think was that you didn’t care about the emotional toll it took on her to keep hearing an answer she didn’t like. She had tried to hide it but you had noticed the way it had weighed on her.

‘Of course not, you love me.’ Jessie cheekily says.

You huff a laugh.

‘So much but I don't want you to think I easily said no each time because I thought about it every day. From the very first day you asked me to think about it, it was on my mind all of the time.’

Jessie squeezes your hand in understanding.

‘I believe you.’ she quietly says.

Then she laughs happily, ‘We’re going to get married.’

‘Yes Jessie. We are.’

Kissing the top of her head gently, you touch her ring finger. The finger you had every intention of putting a ring on.

‘Might need you to remind me of that every now and then.’

Her words are light and teasing but it’s tinged with awe. She couldn’t quite believe that she was going to get to marry you, the love of her life.

‘I'll remind you every day if you want Jess.’

You kiss her behind her ear and she laughs again, a bright joyful sound.

‘Well not every day but every now and then will be nice.’

‘That can definitely be arranged.’ You murmur, kissing her once more, this time on her lips.

And all my walls stood tall, painted blue but I’ll take ‘em down, take ‘em down and open up the door for you.

[shingia]

call me a fool

↳ timeskip! atsumu x reader

↳ angst to fluff | exes-to-lovers | wc: 1.3k

↳ a/n: i fell asleep three times while finishing this but i rly wanted to post tonight so here it is, not proofread at all :>

the café next to the florist was far from being the best café you had ever been to. to be perfectly honest, it kind of sucked.

the coffee didn’t taste good, the lightning was terrible, the people were rude... it’s a shame that atsumu chose to take you there on your first date.

looking back now, he must’ve been awfully confident in his charms to bring you to such an ill-famed place and still hope to get a kiss from you after driving you back home.

but he did get a kiss. one that led to many more throughout the years. hell, he got thousands, and so did you. but if the first one had the bitterness of coffee, the last one had the saltiness of tears.

oddly enough, it was mostly his tears. yours were shed much later, when the thought that he had just put an end to everything you had built in two years had started to settle in.

funny way to treat the person he had once promised to marry.

but according to his last words, he still loved you. he just didn’t think he could ‘handle both my career and ya’.

and it’s probably what caused you the greatest pain. along with the fact that, from what you could’ve seen in the news, he seemed to do well. maybe a bit too well to your liking.

and that’s why, as heavy as your heart was whenever you came back to that café, you barely felt any sadness sting your heart and throat when you spotted him behind the counter; after a year of only seeing his face through tiny pixels.

it was awfully tempting to turn back. because no matter what happened, you knew he could probably still read you better than anyone.

and you didn’t need him to know that you had kept his favorite t-shirt under your pillow, let alone that every night you spent not clinging to it was considered a victory.

but what you didn’t know is that the boy who had forgotten to leave your heart when he left your home wasn’t doing as fine as he tried so hard to make everyone believe. and luckily for him - or was it really luck? - you could read him just as well as he could read you.

“what are you doing here?”

his spine straightened up in a flash.

your voice didn’t even sound like your voice. maybe it was the bitterness of your tone, or maybe it was just time that has distorted his memories. but no matter what it sounded like, your voice still felt like home.

even better, it felt like his home. much more than any late night phone calls to his brother or even his mom when your absence made it impossible for him to fall asleep peacefully.

it was that specific feeling that he was craving when his hopeful eyes looked for your face in the stands before every single one of his serves.

“what are ya doin’ here?”

of course he hadn’t actually forgotten that you lived three buildings away from the café. it would have been odd since he could still remember how the ninth step of the hall stairs was a bit more crooked than the others.

under normal circumstances, the memories of how many times he had tripped in these stairs would’ve been enough to make the two of you laugh. needless to say that today’s circumstances weren’t exactly normal.

“i come here everyday”

you regretted your words before even letting them out what if he started thinking that you still weren’t over him? or that this habit of yours was only a way to trick your brain into thinking that nothing had changed?

well… he would’ve just guessed the truth.

“do ya miss me?”

that was quite an unexpected question. but you knew atsumu well enough to know that you shouldn’t just pay attention to his words, but to his face as well.

eyes opened a bit wider than before, fingers fiddling with the lid of his cup, and his upper body slightly leaned towards you: he was obviously waiting for you to say yes.

“what if i do?” you asked, finally sitting down next to him with one elbow on the counter, “you have everything you’ve always wanted now, right?”

something was wrong with the way you phrased this.

sure, everything he had now, he wanted it. but it didn’t mean that he had everything he wanted.

“well, i miss ya”

you chuckled, but weren’t really amused. it’s just that his words made you remember that the bluntness of his tone was probably what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“…and, call me a fool but i think i still wanna marry ya”

now that was a little too blunt, even for him.

“don’t say that, tsu- atsumu…” you corrected yourself.

it was probably the exhausting schedule of his athlete life that had made him say something as ridiculous as this. if it was, you couldn’t let him say one more word. because you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to place all your hopes into him once again.

that was the power miya atsumu had over you: you believed everything he said, because he believed it too.

“well, not now of course!” he exclaimed, as if this was your biggest concern, “i just… i miss who i was when i was with ya. and i miss not feelin’ sad when i look at my phone”.

and, very naturally, he tapped his screen with two fingers, revealing a picture of the two of you, one that that you had spent hours staring at, alone in your bed, and that used to be your lock screen up until six months ago.

but knowing that it was still the first thing he laid his eyes on every morning made you understand something: no matter how bad you were hurt after he left, he was probably just as hurt as you.

and you knew very well that the people around him must have told him to delete that picture countless times. but in addition to being blunt, atsumu was stubborn. and that was another thing that made you fall hard for him.

“don’t ya miss my morning calls to wake ya up? or- or my cuddles? ya can’t tell me ya don’t miss these…” he asked, and once again you could tell he didn’t mean to be presumptuous. he was just as genuine as always.

and so you did say yes. because how could you still put up a brave front when he was laying himself bare?

“ya don’t have to marry me. i just… i just need to hold ya somewhere other than in my dreams”

with that being said, he stood up. because no matter how blunt and stubborn he was, he wasn’t immune to embarrassment.

and now was probably your turn to say something.

“i don’t know if i’ll marry you, tsumu” you finally spoke up, hesitantly grabbing his hand to hold him back, “but i know that i also need it to be real”.

there it was, that hopeful spark. it was back in his eyes.

“and i do miss your cuddles…” you then admitted with a sheepish voice, but didn’t expect him to immediately wrap his arms around your neck to pull you in for a long-awaited hug.

saying that it didn’t feel weird would’ve been a lie. but saying that it didn’t feel good would’ve been an even bigger lie. because everything from his smell to the way your palms instinctively found their way to his back made that hug feel like the greatest of gifts.

“i miss yours too” he whispered against your ear as your embrace suddenly tightened around him.

did it make you look desperate? probably. but if anything, you looked just as desperate as the fool that had just promised to marry you. for the second time.

TAGLIST : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @ughgojo @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @azuluuv @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kohi-zeri @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @m0iw @maitenight @xomiya @shoyotime @ebiharachan @smolmo @lilliansis @succulentmom @akkeyomi @koifish69 @itachislut @ushijimasassmuscle

[aminiatureworld]

Careless Words

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,114

Warnings: Brief depiction of drunken character, swearing

Premise: Words are thrown around so carelessly, phrases, endearments, accusations. But when all is gone and only the words remain it can be difficult to pick up the pieces.

In which the reader and their s/o argue and make up.

Author’s Note: Ended up spending a good two hours on Albedo’s bit alone, wow I got carried away with this. Also I feel so bad for Childe, I’m sorry!

Not proofread cause I ran out of time, will do so tomorrow.

Albedo

“Do you even respect what I do?” Those words kept ringing through your ears, a bitter litany that fueled your anger just as it began to fade. Do you even respect what I do?

Of course you did, you respected him and his work very much, it was one of the first things that had drawn you to him, his inquisitiveness, his eternal questions, his determination to unlock the secrets of the world.

But really could he not do all that in his lab where all of his experiments and equipment belonged?

At first you hadn’t really paid attention, it was just a few plants after all. When you’d asked what they were for Albedo had smiled eagerly, replying that he wanted to see how different plants, especially those infused with elements, reacted to sunlight. You had just smiled then, although you were slightly worried about the mist flower freezing the ground around it. Still, it was a mundane enough experiment, and the plants looked very pretty on the windowsill. Nothing to worry about.

Well evidently that wasn’t quite the case because one experiment morphed into two morphed into five morphed into ten, until there seemed barely enough room to live among the beakers and graduated cylinders, the odd smells emanating from the various petri dishes which now scattered the coffee tables and the dressers.

It was becoming a nuisance, plain and simple. More than a few times you’d managed to almost tip something over, trying to grab a book off a shelf that was crammed with small boxes of various specimen, or almost putting a pot down on a counter covered with vials of whooper-flower nectars. You couldn’t live like this, and though you wanted to let Albedo carry on as uninhibited as possible, it couldn’t go on any longer. You were going to scream.

“Albedo, can we talk?”

“Of course.” Albedo looked up from the microscope he’d managed to cram on the coffee table. You let out a smile that quickly morphed into a grimace, making your way to the couch, careful not to bump into the table.

“Albedo, I love your passion in all that you do, but you really do have to tidy up a bit. I’m sorry I know it’s a bit of an inconvenience, but it’s just becoming a little difficult, you understand?”

“It’s only a few experiments.” Albedo replied, gaze still fixated on whatever he was observing. You felt a twinge of frustration, had he even heard you?

“This is serious Albedo. I don’t want to ruin any of your experiments, but it’s really becoming an impossible situation. We can barely cook for fear of crashing into something, and I’ve started waking up to the smell of fire flowers burning. Can’t you move one or two things into your laboratory?” You tried to keep your tone light, hoping that this time would be more successful. It was very irritating to feel like you weren’t being heard.

“I have an important experiment going on at the lab. It needs space and air. So I’m just moving everything here for the time being.”

“How long is that going to take?” You asked, once again feeling frustration rising up. He couldn’t even look up at you.

“Three weeks or so.”

“Three weeks?” You couldn’t help but let out a cry. “Albedo I’m sorry I cannot live like this for three weeks.”

“Why not.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Please look at me.” You finally said, tone dropping to one that made no attempt to hide your growing irritation. Albedo let out a curt sigh, glancing over at you with a disinterested sort of gaze. “You have to move some of this stuff out Albedo. It would be one thing if it was a week, but three? We can barely live right now, what are we supposed to do for the next three weeks?”

“I don’t know.” Albedo scowled in a dismissive tone. “I think you’re making too much of it.”

“And I think you aren’t listening. Are you even hearing what I’m saying? Even processing the situation? Or are you so focused on that microscope that you can’t see that your partner is besides themselves.”

“You seem fine to me,” Albedo’s tone continued its aloof cadence, “I don’t see why you can’t just wait three weeks. You’re being awfully demanding.”

“I…” for a moment you were speechless, feeling as if you were fighting a losing battle, why was it so much easier for Albedo so say words that meant nothing at all while you were quickly finding yourself losing your cool? “You aren’t listening to me!” You finally managed to get out, knowing by this time you were awfully close to shouting but too frustrated to care.

“And you aren’t listening to me,” Albedo’s tone finally began to inch into something a little more emotional, you weren’t sure why but it gave you a hint of satisfaction, “do you even respect what I do? Or are you too wrapped up in yourself.”

It was like getting punched in the gut.

“Fine.” You stepped away almost knocking into a dresser crammed with empty equipment. For a moment you wondered what you could say that would hurt him so much but quickly gave it up. You were too angry to think straight anyways; right now you just wanted to get out.

“Where are you going?” Albedo’s tone seemed to have shrunk back to its previous range.

You didn’t even respond, not bothering to gather anything up as you made your way to the door. Albedo called out your name once. You responded by slamming the door as hard as you could on your way out.

•

At first Albedo simply went back to his observations, trying to ignore the negative feelings that churned inside him. How dare you, he thought, how dare you take him and his work so lightly. Maybe it was good that you were getting out of the house, Albedo wasn’t sure how long he could’ve lasted until he lapsed into that horrible shrieking as well. “How embarrassing.” He murmured to himself, as if that would drown the unease. Still the fight was new and the emotions were raw. He wasn’t about to ponder the matter anytime soon.

This carefree attitude slipped a bit when you didn’t come home for dinner. Still he simply sighed and went to cook for himself. By now his anger had cooled extensively and he was beginning to feel a bitter sort of regret. Maybe he had been to harsh, though he still wasn’t ready to admit he was wrong. No, you were just being dramatic, and though he should’ve been kinder with you, backing down was absolutely not on the table for him. He cared about his work after all, cared deeply; he couldn’t just stop because it was inconvenient to you. Moving a few vials out of the way Albedo laid out the chopping block. The amount of pasta he’d bought looked comical against the knowledge that he was going to be eating alone tonight.

Dinner was a sad affair. Somehow Albedo had gotten used to cooking with you, your proximity, your easy conversation, the way the one who finished their food first always pushed their chair next to the slower party, usually to lean their head on the other ones shoulder which while not necessarily comfortable was certainly relaxing. It was lonely now, and the loneliness only grew as Albedo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be better. Still he lay there, thoughts scattered and hazy. Was he in the wrong? He couldn’t tell. But certainly he was in the wrong now, in the wrong for not being with you like usual, for not reacting when you left, for still being unable to react now.

It was that thought that eventually lulled him to sleep.

Albedo woke up to the most horrible smell. Squinting he sat up, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. The smell was vaguely akin to burning flesh, but it that flesh was also experiencing a bad case of freezer burn. Fighting the urge to gag Albedo stumbled around. Once he got to the living room he groaned. Some ammonia had managed to fall of the shelf and spill onto all the flowers he’d propped on the roof. Crinkling his nose he went to clean it up, but found it took about twenty minutes just to find where he’d put the tools for properly disposing equipment and bio-experiments.

By the time he was done the final shreds of his resolve had utterly dissipated. You were right. You were absolutely right and he absolutely needed to tell you. Barely stopping by the lab to throw the bags of ruined equipment in the trash he sprinted down the streets of Mondstadt. He hoped that he arrived at the Guild in time.

Albedo spied you just as your were getting your commissions handed to you. Calling out he stopped slightly as you turned to look at him with a weary gaze. Clearly you were still upset about the matter, and for a moment Albedo wondered whether or not he should just turn and leave. But he knew that wouldn’t help either. Nothing would help until he apologized, and that was exactly what he was going to you.

“Albedo I-”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo blurted out, not wanting to give you a chance to misconstrue his actions, “I am truly so sorry my darling. You were absolutely right, and I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that. I am so deeply sorry.”

“Albedo,” you replied, voice sort of quiet in a way that worried him, “I’m very glad to accept your apology for that, I’m sorry for snapping at you, only…”

“Only?”

“Only did you mean what you said when you asked if I even cared? Do you think I am so selfish or so careless. I understand of course that words said in arguments are ones no one really thinks of, but I still want to know.” You glanced away, trailing off and Albedo felt his heart seize and a wave of guilt poured over him.

“Of course not!” Albedo stepped closer to you. “May I?” He opened his arms and you nodded briefly before closing the room between you two.

You buried your face in his shoulder, not wanting to look up. “I’m so sorry my darling,” Albedo whispered, running circles along your back. “I’m so sorry for making you question you and how I saw you like that. You’re right, I wasn’t thinking. I was the one too wrapped up in myself, in my work, and for that I am so deeply sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you mumbled, just happy to be as you’d been before. Arguments were always unpleasant, no matter what, but now it was all said and done and you could be yourselves again.

“Would you like to eat lunch together?” Albedo ventured, smiling when you looked up and gave a soft “yes”. The relief he felt was overwhelming and he vowed next time to be more careful.

One can get over arguments, but words are difficult to take back.

 Childe

Although you disliked the Fatui in a vague, formal sort of way, that hatred had never truly been honed until you’d met Dottore.

At first you weren’t able to pinpoint what it was. Perhaps it was his erratic gaze, his odd smile, the way that he seemed to look at everything as if it was something to dissect – something which made you extremely uncomfortable. But then your dislike was given a proper motive when he and Childe went out one evening and your partner came back so plastered he didn’t seem to know who you were.

“Sorry about that dear.” Childe has laughed the day after, honestly how this man never seemed to have a proper hangover you didn’t know, not that he was drunk around you very often, something you appreciated greatly.

“Just don’t do it again.” You’d replied, frowning slightly. “That Dottore is a bad influence.”

“Awh, he’s not that bad,” Childe grinned, carelessly tossing about a book he had been reading, “not as bad as half the others anyways.”

“Still, be careful,” you commented, “you don’t want this to be a regular thing do you?”

“Aren’t I always careful?” Childe shook off your worry with his characteristic charm. “Besides Dottore’s going to be called back for a report to the Tsaritsa in about two weeks. Might as well make what you can out of his company while it lasts.”

“Perhaps.” You commented, secretly thinking that day couldn’t come close enough. Still it was only once, and you trusted Childe. He didn’t seem to like any of the Fatui anyways. Hopefully that would keep him from the fiasco of knocking down your door at 3:00.

But that didn’t stop him from doing it the next night, or the night after, or the night after. By night five you were absolutely done.

“Childe you have to stop this, you’re going to kill yourself the way you’re drinking.”

“You’re making too much of a fuss my dear,” Childe flitted his hand in the air as if batting away your concern, “if you think this is a lot you should see the sprees people go on in Snezhnaya. Honestly it’s only a little bit of fun, you know how hard it is to relax as a member of the Fatui in Liyue. Drinking buddies are hard to find, especially those who share my skill.”

“It’s more than a little bit of fun. Honestly Childe if I took this week by itself I’d think you were halfway to alcoholism! And I don’t appreciate you dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night, for fear you’d fall down the stairs if I left you and hurt yourself. It’s uncomfortable, seeing you so drunk.”

“Why?” Childe’s tone was still playful, but his eyes were narrowed slightly. Good. At least then he was listening to you.

“Have you ever interacted with a drunk person? Especially a drunk person on their fifth bender that week? It’s uncomfortable whether or not you know them and if you do it’s downright terrifying. Childe, I care about you and your health. And I’m begging you please stop these nights.”

“It’s fine.” Childe’s voice was growing harder by the moment. “I told you I can handle it, why do you have to pester so much?”

“Because I care about you!”

“Well maybe you should care a bit less.”

Childe stood up, making his way to the door. You knew that he was going to the Bank, knew that he was going to be out that night, but you said nothing. For now Childe’s sentence rang through your head. How could something so short be so painful. Shaking your head you moved to get your own equipment. Today was going to be a painful day.

You’d half expected the knock not to come, but sure enough it did. Turning to the clock you groaned inwardly. 3:45. Getting up you made your way to the door. Opening it you nearly slipped as your partner leaned on you. There was vodka on his breath and it made you feel as if you had no air. His words rattled through your head, refusing to leave since you’d first heard them. Maybe you should care a bit less. Fine, you would.

“Comrade?” Childe let out weakly. That was a new one. You made your way to the elevator and shoved him in there, making sure to angle it so he wouldn’t concuss himself.

“Get sober somewhere else.” And with that you slammed the button for the lobby floor, running out as the doors closed behind you. Childe made a strangled cry of protest but you didn’t care. You just wanted to sleep, and to forget. Maybe you should care less. Well why did it hurt to do so?

•

Childe squinted as a few rays of sun hit him square in the face. What was going on? Groaning he moved to reach for some blanket before realizing there was none. Shaking his head and ignoring the pounding headache that glanced right behind his eyelids he looked around. His mind was running as slow as it seemed possible to run but the minute it registered Childe felt himself flooded with embarrassment. A bench.

He was on a bench. Childe, Tartaglia, the Harbinger who had almost sunk Liyue. Said Harbinger was now sleeping on a bench, not because he’d fallen on hard times, not because of any reason that was understandable, but because he’d gotten too drunk to make it home.

No, not quite. Childe reached back into his memory, trying to piece together the night before. He had made it home, to your home, but you’d kicked him out. At first Childe felt a swell of irritation, but slowly but surely his memory caught up and he recalled the argument the morning before. He’d said something, hadn’t he. What was it?

Oh. Oh fuck.

Running back to your apartment he tried to straighten himself up, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious that he wasn’t nursing the worse sort of hangover. Damn he really relied on you. He relied on you and now he’d fucked up and now he needed to apologize.

Unfortunately his brain had only gotten that far so when you opened the door there was a bit of a pause, as he tried to think of what to say, words being drowned out by the pounding in his head.

“What do you want Childe?” You sighed, looking more depressed than anything. Childe felt a twinge of regret, but still the words wouldn’t come, not properly anyways, he must’ve still been a little drunk.

“I’m sorry.” Childe began, figuring that was the best way to go. “I’m sorry. Thank you and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you?” You tilted your head. “Are you sure you aren’t still drunk? I told you to sober up somewhere else.”

“Yes, I know, and I don’t know. But thank you for caring. And for looking after me. And I’m sorry.”

There was another pause, before you sighed.

“Come in.” You gestured, opening the door wider. Childe smiled weakly.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me later. I want to see you straightened up. And I want you to stop drinking like that.”

“I will.” Childe promised, making his way to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to smash his face into a pillow. “Dottore was bad company anyways. Dear?”

“Yes?” You asked, still feeling a little shy. Perhaps you should’ve been more angry, but arguing always sat with you wrong. As did throwing Childe out.

“Thank you for caring.”

“You already said that.” You pointed out, finally cracking a smile, something that Childe mirrored, seeming somehow relieved.

“I know. But thank you.”

“Thank you for listening then.” You replied closing the blinds as Childe flopped onto the bed, sighing happily. “And thank you for forgiving me for kicking you out.”

“So callous.” Childe muttered, barely hearing your slight laugh as he drifted off to sleep.

 Xiao

You hadn’t wanted to fight, not at all. Your relationship was still so young after all, so raw, but you couldn’t help it. And now, as you watched Xiao disappear into thin air, you felt the sour taste of fear mixed with anger and regret. You’d almost forgotten really, how quickly an adeptus can vanish.

The point of contention had been your commissions. While Xiao said nothing against them verbally, you could tell that your newfound partner was dissatisfied by your constant comings and goings, something made worse by your recent string of long trips. And it had all come to a head when you announced you’d be gone a month, traveling into Inazuma via a covert nautical route – thank you Beidou – before delivering a few papers to the Monstadt embassy, most being passports and travel papers for diplomats who let theirs expire. Xiao had listened to the scheme, glared becoming more and more pronounced as you went on. And when you were done he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

“You aren’t going.”

“What do you mean I’m not going?” You asked, confused.

“You aren’t going. For the love of the Seven, what kind of partner let’s their loved one smuggle themselves into a country with no chance of reprieve if something goes wrong and with no contact for a month? You aren’t going.”

“I’m going whether you like it or not,” you replied, irritation quickly running through your voice, “it’s fine Xiao, many people have done this before. And we need to get those Liyue diplomats home. Honestly, I’m not sure why you aren’t proud of me, proud of what I’m doing.”

“Because you’re putting yourself in needless danger and breaking the law for a few people who I’m sure could do just fine themselves.”

“You can’t just keep me from being an Adventurer Xiao. You can’t keep me from doing my job.”

“I told you it’s because I care about you.”

“No, it’s because you’re putting yourself above the needs of both myself and your own land. Xiao, don’t you care about Liyue?”

“I care about the land,” his voice was like stone, and when you glanced into his eyes for a moment they seemed truly without empathy or care, the gaze of an adeptus who understood nothing of the human world, “humanity can rot.”

“I’m a human,” you pointed out, voice soft. “Don’t you care about me.”

For a moment recognition flitted through Xiao’s expression and he seemed almost regretful. Then his gaze hardened over once more.

“You aren’t going.” And with that he disappeared.

•

It took Xiao approximately ten minutes to regret the entire situation. Being angry for long periods of time wasn’t necessarily an alien emotion to Xiao – sometimes he felt as if he carried anger everywhere he went – but anger at you certainly was, and no sooner had it arrived then it was fading away, replaced instead with a deep sense of shame and guilt.

Why was he so upset? Was it really out of care for you? Yes, he decided, there was that aspect to it. But there was something more, something less noble. He was afraid, he was afraid for you. He was afraid you’d be arrested, or your ship would succumb to the open ocean, or you’d be betrayed, or…

Thoughts fluttered in and out of Xiao’s mind, each one more outlandish than the rest. Behind them said the same thing. He was afraid. You were right, he was afraid.

Did he care about humans? No, Xiao could say that with certainty. Not the way humans cared about each other, the way the humans cared about the adepti, when they thought about them. Xiao hadn’t cared for humans for a very long time. Even the karma that he kept from wreaking the land was exorcised, not because of humans, but because it was his duty. He didn’t care about humans, not really.

But he did care about you. He cared about you and he didn’t want to keep you from what you loved in return. Not like he didn’t know you would go do your mission anyways. You would do your mission and if Xiao wasn’t careful the weeks of cultivating an acquaintanceship, and friendship, and then more would be ruined. And he’d just be left, watching and waiting, wondering if you’d be alright.

Xiao was thankful that you hadn’t left the balcony of the Inn. Appearing before you he reached out to hug you before hesitating.

“You can go.” He murmured, knowing that wasn’t ever a question.

“I’m going.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“I wish you hadn’t disappeared like that.” You frowned, but Xiao shook his head. Was that the worst he’d done?

“No, I’m sorry for saying you couldn’t go. I’m sorry for not caring. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow in a familiar expression and Xiao nodded slightly. Hurrying to embrace him you shook your head, still not over what had just transpired so quickly.

“Your eyes were so cold.” You murmured.

“I’m sorry.” Xiao murmured again, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t be.” You replied. “Just, stay like this a little longer.” Xiao was all to happy to comply.

It was easy to forget Xiao was an adeptus sometimes, that he still had that side of him, those cold eyes, that brusque demeanor. But even if that sometimes threw you off, even if you argued and worried and regretted, it would all be fine in the end.

Because you’d always return to a familiar embrace, and a shared love.

[interlunium-opus]

No Place I’d Rather Be. [ Jay ]

[ Jay | fluff ]

Abstract: when you went to the library on the night when the Triennial Winter Ball was held, you expected to be all alone. But Jay, your best friend and the  campus heartthrob is somehow already there waiting for you.

You stared out of the corridors of windows as you ascended up the staircase of the desolated library, your eyes fixated on the bustling crowd outside. It was the night the Triennial Winter Ball was held: basically the night everyone looked forward to the moment they started university. Unlike how dark, drab and quiet winter nights in campus usually are — tonight, the campus was alight with festive lights lining up the path leading up to the grand hall and students filtering in, decked in their “Sunday best”, filling the otherwise quiet night with cacophony of laughters, chatters, and whispers.

Standing in contrast with the crowd outside was you, all alone in the dimly-lit library, decked in monochrome with books in hand instead clinking glasses and waltzing with others in an elegant dress. You sighed as you thought to yourself, who am I kidding, my introverted soul wouldn’t last a minute in there.

“You’re late today.”

You jumped, startled, dropping some of the books you were carrying. Given the context of tonight, no one should have been in the library right now. Especially not the campus heartthrob and the social butterfly, Jay Park.

“Jay?” You called out, squinting your eyes to get a clearer view of the tall figure at the end of the aisle. The dim-lighting were of no help at all but the blonde locks and the deep voice were a massive giveaway, “wait..what are you doing here?!”

“You look petrified to see your own best friend, it’s almost heartbreaking,” Jay muttered sarcastically as he made his way towards you before reaching down to pick up the books you had dropped.

“Well, duh, no one should be here tonight especially not you,” you retorted as you walked towards your usual seat at the corner, the one with the large windows and dimmest lighting, “people are going to think that you got kidnapped or something and oh God, the amount of hearts you’re breaking tonight with your no-show.”

“Well, what’s your excuse?” Jay raised an eyebrow at you.

“Jay, we have been best friends for almost 2 years now, you know why I am not there — I would just combust,” you said as a matter-of-factly as you took a seat.

“But it’s our final year, you’ve got to make it count — socially I mean. And come on, it’s the Triennial Winter Ball not some frat party,” he grumbled as he sat on the armrest of the chair next to you with his body facing you and arms folded. Being a massive extrovert with a lifestyle that tends toward opulence — tonight’s extravagance was right up his alley and all month long he had been endlessly badgering you to attend it. Being the massive introvert you are though, the ball is basically the last thing you would want to attend.

That said, as incredulous as the friendship between the two of you are to many people, you two are polar opposites that complement one another in a way that two differently-shaped puzzle pieces can only fit one another. Being a social butterfly, your individualism, rationality and brilliant intellect really stood in stark contrast with the homogenous crowd and superficial conversations that he constantly surround himself with. With an equally subtle sarcastic dark humor to match, a tenacity like no others and a brilliant intellect that constantly challenge and stimulates his mind — you’re like an oasis in the desert.

Likewise, Jay, too, was like a breath of fresh air to you. You have had some initial reservations about him though. After all, he was more known for his lavish lifestyle and the parties he throw. But beyond those such fronts, Jay was highly knowledgable with strong passion for what he believes in — qualities of which really matched yours. Not to mention, being pragmatic and rational himself, he was one of the rare few people in your life that you don’t need to put up a social filter for as he is always able to objectively understand your views and opinions.

That is how you two end up going from being touted as the “cursed” pairing that was doomed to fail when you two were first paired for a project in “Modern Political Thought” module, to the Dream Team that ended up trouncing everyone else’s project, attaining the highest score out of everyone in class. In fact, you two just keep on surprising everyone by becoming almost inseparable even after the module ended.

“Who’s to say a couple of drinks isn’t going to turn a ball into a frat party?” You shot him an incredulous look before turning your attention to the books you were flipping, “… exam is around the corner anyway.”

“1.5 months away,” he emphasized as he lowered his head down to your level, peeking over your shoulders to take a closer look at your notes, “Seriously? you’re skipping tonight’s extravagance and festivities for Multivariate Functions and Lagrangian? I’d have let it slide if you were working on a prose instead.”

“Well what’s your excuse for being here then? I’m pretty sur-“ you stopped mid-sentence, caught off guard by how close his face actually was to yours when you looked up to face him. Jay’s face as usual was unperturbed, his blonde locks softly framed his chiseled face and his lips was pouty in concentration as his eyes travelled from one end of your notebook to the other before he turned his face slightly and met your gaze. You swore for a moment you felt your heart skip a beat but the moment one corner of his lips lifted into his signature lopsided grin, that thought immediately disappeared as you knew he was going to say something sarcastic or dramatic.

“How can I be so selfish and party away when my best friend is all sad and depressed alone in this library?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Jay, as if-”

“Also,” he suddenly interjected, “the girl that I asked out for tonight rejected me so….”

“Wait, what?!” You gasped, “The Jay Park got rejected?”

“I know right. She rejected an offer that millions would have killed for,” he shrugged as he straightened back up.

“Exactly! who in their right mind would- anyway, at the risk of sounding insensitive, couldn’t you have substituted her with other girls? Like you said, millions would have killed to be your date — you can just pick and choose.”

“Wow, ____, you really have ice in your veins don’t you?” he smirked.

“Whatever, just being rational.”

“I know. I definitely could. I mean the head cheerleader asked me out too so I could have just accepted it,” he murmured, “but...” he paused, “as cringeworthy as this sounds, 80% of the reason why I really looked forward to the ball was because I was looking forward to spending it with the girl who rejected me. So without her in the picture, the whole vision just suddenly lost its spark. Like… I’d rather just spend time with her then whether it is at a ball or library or wherever.”

“Oh…” you managed, unsure how to react, “that’s kind of… deep I guess. Well yeah, I mean if you still don’t feel bitter over her rejecting you then sure, you do you, go after her. Unless of course she’s at the ball with someone else then maybe not…”

Instead of responding promptly as he usually does, Jay just heaved a huge sigh as if he was disappointed or something. His eyes glued onto yours as if trying to pry some information out of your mind, “You know you’re awfully dense. Have you ever thought that maybe you’re too studious that it’s beginning to cost you your social skills or something?”

Jay has always been blunt but tonight, it was just on a different level. It was almost like he was here to intentionally grate you as if someone was actually keeping score. You retorted, “Excuse me. Did you just come all the way here to push my buttons? Because yo-“

You stopped mid-sentence again when he suddenly leaned closer towards you, his hands on either side of you, one on the edge of your table and the other, gripping your headrest, “I am already with her right now.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, your mind working on overdrive.

“Fine,” he uttered, ”let me spell it out for you — you’re the girl. You’re the one who rejected me. Twice.”

You opened your mouth to tell him to stop joking but his unperturbed facial expressions told you otherwise. Still in disbelief, you stammered, “No way — Me? When?! I mean we talked about the ball a couple of times but you’ve never… unless - wait… you were serious?”

You remembered it was a Saturday night, about 2 weeks ago at almost 4 AM when you and Jay was at the library burning the midnight oil. You were busy trying to finish up your Econometrics assignment while Jay, who had long given up with his Philosophy assignment, was engrossed in a movie marathon next to you.

“Ugh,” you groaned when your regression results turned ‘insignificant’. You turned your attention to the papers and books strewn across your desk, frantically flipping through the pages to see where the error could have been and how else can you rectify this.

“You need to sleep on it,” Jay murmured, casting worried glances at you, “You’ve been on it for hours.”

“I can’t,” you shook your head, your eyes scanning over your messy handwriting, “I’ll end up obsessing about it again at home so I definitely need to get to the bottom of this today, that’s the only way I can sleep.”

Jay sighed, pausing his movie and turning his attention fully towards you, “Fine. But you really need to reward yourself for working so hard this semester because otherwise, you’ll just burn out. Also, by reward, I did not mean hibernating.”

“Hmm,” you nodded absentmindedly when suddenly Jay snatched the pen you were using, “Hey ___ eyes on the person talking please. What did I just say?”

You rolled you eyes, relenting, “Something about rewarding myself and not hibernating — there, happy? Can I get my pen back?”

“Good,” Jay beamed, quickly pulling his hand away when you were about to snatch your pen back from his grasp, “The Triennial Winter Ball would be a good idea of a reward by the way.”

You scoffed, “Jay, that is probably your idea of a reward but it definitely won’t be mine. First, I’ve got to look all made up from top to bottom — that takes up too much resources for something an introvert like me possibly won’t even enjoy — that’s the equivalent of some floppy investment prospects right there.

“Secondly, I avoid crowds like the plague whenever I could help it and the ball has all the variables that could make me combust on spot: there are a lot people; a lot of emotions; a lot of expectations and — well, you get the picture.

“And finally, I would need to find someone to go with — again, too much trouble.“

“You have me, where’s the trouble in that?” he asserted, snatching your pencil case away this time when you were about to reach for it, “Just go with me then.”

“Yeah no that’s ridiculous,” you shook your head, stretching your hand out to him, beckoning him to give your stationaries back, “Stop playing, give me my stationaries back.”

Ignoring your demand, he pressed on, “Why is that so ridiculous?”

You sighed, “Because A) everyone wants a piece of you so B) I’d be burnt at stake if we do go together. And also C) You should spend that special night with a special someone, not your best friend — come on, Jay, you need to work on your prioritization skill.”

“Wait — that was meant to be it?” You shrieked as you recalled the memory, “I mean, it just rolls so casually in our conversation — I couldn’t have possibly picked it up as serious. Anyway, fine — when was the other time?”

“Just a few days ago when I was sending you home,” Jay replied as-a-matter-of-factly. Jay remembered skipping dance practice that night, earning an earful from the instructor the next day, just so that he can walk you home after your Students’ Union meeting with the president, Yang Jungwon.

“You’re really set on not going to the ball?” Jay asked for the umpteenth time and you nodded.

“What if I tell you that I know someone who is thinking of asking you out for the ball?” Jay prodded, stopping you in your tracks, “I’m serious.”

“Still no.”

“I have not even told you who he was,” Jay grumbled.

“Fine, entertain me,” you relented.

“Jungwon.”

“Jay stop messing around.”

“I told you I’m serious, geez,” Jay said exasperatedly.

“But why — what is that kid thinking…”

“I don’t know — maybe you should stop having some night meetings with him alone before it grows into a full-blown crush or something,” Jay shrugged before you smack him lightly on the arm. “Ouch!” he whined, “Anyway so? Will that be a yes or a no?”

“Of course no, Jungwon’s a definite no.”

“Well, I saved him from a heartbreak then,” Jay mumbled.

“Huh?” You stared at him.

“Nothing,” Jay quipped, smiling sheepishly. The truth was, one of the reason why he insisted to walk you home tonight was because he overheard Jungwon telling Heeseung this morning that he definitely would ask you out to the ball after the meeting, perhaps right after, perhaps while walking you home. Knowing that someone as upright as Jungwon was going to ask you out, Jay thought he should have been elated for this might mean that you will actually come to the ball. But somehow, like a broken record, the conversation kept on playing in his mind all day during his classes, accompanied with the 1001 likely scenarios of how you’d likely respond to him. By the time night has set in, all he knew was that he was dead set on not letting Jungwon ask you out to the ball, by hook or by crook. He did not fully comprehend why, perhaps he just did not like Jungwon, he thought. Or maybe, he didn’t like you with Jungwon together — or perhaps, he actually didn’t like you with any other guys. Fortunately by the time he had reached the Student Centre of the Campus, completely out of breath that is, he can see that you and Jungwon were still discussing the union project. Once the meeting ended, as indicated by Jungwon switching the projector off, Jay just barged in, announcing that he’ll take you home much to your suprise and to Jungwon’s dismay.

“Why not though?” Jay suddenly asked, “I mean accepting Jungwon? He’s like the textbook example of an ideal guy: cute, smart, upright, overachiever and whatnot”

“Well, my good friend has a crush on him for the longest time so that’s one big reason,” you explained, “also, we don’t even know each other that well on a personal level for me to say yes to.”

“Then would you go with me instead?” Jay suddenly grabbed onto your hand, stopping you in your tracks, “I mean, if you’re worried about having a good time, wouldn’t I be ideal then?”

For a moment, silence engulfed the two of you as you two stared into one another’s eyes. You opened your mouth to say something but immediately closed it, remembering how just this morning you overheard that the head cheerleader had asked Jay out, “Jay, just go with someone else more fitting okay? You don’t have to pity invite me or something, I’m fine. I heard the head cheerleader asked you out — isn’t that perfect? two campus heartthrobs together? You guys would be the talk of campus and the envy of many.”

Despite the praises, he could feel his heart sank. While it was not an explicit rejection, your nonchalance, for the second time, pricked him. Not one to be emotional, he plastered a smile as he slowly let your hand go, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh no, crap, I’m sorry Jay,” you sank in your seat as you stared at him in disbelief. No wonder, he looked so taken aback that night, you thought, and how cold he was the next day. “You know what, yeah I’m definitely dense — I think I traded my social skills for good grades. You can tease me with that all you want, I won’t even try to defend myself anymore.”

“Well, on the bright side, flirtations from others can’t get through to you — you’re like a fortress or something,” Jay chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry though really,” you bit your lip, apologetic, “What can I do to make it up to you? Oh you know what — that Michelin-starred restaurant that just opened up in the corner? How about I’ll treat you there for tomorrow? It’ll break my wallet but if it will unbreak what I’ve done to you -- I’d gladly commit to the splurge.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that materialistic,” Jay scoffed, “Do you mean it though, that you’ll do anything?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, “Within moral and ethical bounds, that is.”

Suddenly Jay extended his hand towards you, beckoning you to take it. 

“You’re not dragging me to the ball right now right?” you took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet, leading you towards a more spacious area, “We’re underdressed for it Jay. I mean look at me, I’m decked in monochrome -- I basically look like I’m mourning.”

He chuckled as he pulled out his AirPods case, taking out one and gently inserting it into your ear before inserting the other pair into his, “Don’t worry, there are no dress codes for our own private ball.”

Soft music started to play through the AirPods, it was “Best Part” by Daniel Caesar ft. H.E.R. “Just dance along with me alright? I don’t need to be splurged on,” Jay’s hand slowly snaked over your back, pulling you close to him as he carefully yet smoothly guide you to the melody of the music.

“Well, gotta warn you though,” you smiled sheepishly, “I’m bad at this so don’t sue me if I step on your Pradas.”

“Fine, exclusively for tonight, I’ll put my Pradas at risk,” he quipped, his eyes glued onto yours, “Say, if you had known that I was serious — would you have said ’yes’ to me?”

You looked up, meeting his warm gaze which somehow, perhaps due to the proximity, was making your heart skip a beat, “I think so? I mean, I hate crowds but you would usually make me forget that I was in one. Also, you’ve always said yes to all of my weird adventures so I always feel like I need to repay you back in-kind if the opportunity arises.”

Despite always trying to keep his composure in the face of any nerve-wrecking  moment, Jay failed this time as he feel his smile widened while his heart raced uncontrollably. He couldn’t exactly pinpointed why: was it your sudden heart-fluttering words; was it the proximity; was it the the warmth that he could feel on both hands; was it the atmosphere; was it the fireworks that was starting to set off outside; or was it just you?

Suddenly, he thought in retrospect, he was glad that you had said “no” to him. He wouldn’t have traded the moment tonight, just you and him away from all the external noises, for a waltz in a crowded and noisy ballroom, even with all the glitz and glamour that it offers. In fact, tonight best represented what you meant to him, like that of an oasis in a desert, your presence alone is enough for him even if he has to search through the highs and lows for you -- it is just you who he’ll gravitate to eventually. 

_______

Author’s note: first imagine wheee! Hope you guys like this one :3

[relaxxattack]

Hot take but have you considered that Dream lied to his enemy who was blackmailing him with attachments about having no attachments. Shocking concept I know, a manipulator lying about something I know, but may be worth a thought.

1. its right in my pinned to not send asks with a negative tone. i do actually like being able to debate sometimes though so ill let this one slide, lol

2. tommy did the attachment thing one (1) time and it Failed Massively because of how much power dream holds over everyone and everything. they are not equals or on even playing fields in that situation, tommy trying to "blackmail" him was not only a horrible attempt at getting on an even playing field (with a person actually blackmailing his friends and family's safety) but it didn't even work because dream claimed to not care about spirit (and in the past hes sacrificed spirit for the discs)

now that we've cleared that up, i'll move on to your actual point, which is, in fact, a good one! sadly i have never watched a dream pov stream (lmao) and can't confirm or deny his actual feelings here, but i can try line up what he says with his actions.

i'm gonna attempt to do that now, but smart people feel free to add on or correct me.

"dream's a master manipulator". for starters, how do we, the audience know this? how do we know he's lying about things and not simply being persuasive? well, it's because we as the audience can see other people's actions and confirm that certain things are untrue. this is how we can usually tell when he's manipulating people.

let's apply this.

dream tells tommy that tubbo doesn't care about him -> we see tubbo in NLM asking for/about tommy constantly, and seeming very sad and bitter about not being able to visit him.

dream tells tubbo tommy doesn't want to see him -> we see tommy asking constantly for tubbo, to be able to visit tubbo, and keeping pictures of his friend

dream tells tommy tubbo threw his compass into lava because he hates him -> we see tubbo keeping the compass in his pocket and offhand, literally never taking it off him, and losing it accidentally in a creeper explosion

dream tells tommy mexican dream "died from overdosing" -> we watched dream kill MD in front of tommy

dream tells everyone tommy blew up the community house -> ranboo knows that he did it because his conscious tells him so (this one i'm not so sure about because idk if we can trust ranboo's mind here)

now here's the one you're talking about:

dream tells tommy he cut off all attachments -> he abandons and stops talking to his friends

dream claims he cares more about the discs then tommy does because "they're what allow him to control tommy and his friends" -> dream builds a shrine to the discs in his lair along with places to keep every emotional attachment on the server in order to be able to manipulate anyone

some additional facts i would like to bring to the table include:

1. in a really twisted way, dream likes to gloat to tommy about his plans. he tells tommy among other things that he "does it all because it's fun and he's playing with his food" "no, i just like to cause chaos" "i'm doing this so you can have an origin story. the perfect hero origin" "i can make us immortal together!" we don't have a way to confirm or deny these as true/false since we don't know what dream's thinking, but. sadly they appear to line up with his actions. based on this we can assume dream does tell tommy his real plans. and also:

2. sapnap actually visited dream in prison and dream seemed to care more about using sapnap to get to ranboo then sapnap himself. this is their most recent interaction, not even mentioning all the times he’s intentionally betrayed sapnap’s trust when it came to pets and items

so, as far as we can figure, with all of the canon evidence in front of us, it seems to be that he was telling the truth.

HOWEVER!

a lot of this is based on dream's actions and actions alone. why? because we don't know what he's thinking.

i am actually fully on board with the idea that dream lied, and that he does still miss and care about his friends! i consider often (because i like angst lol)! when dream finally gets his pov, we might learn about this. because we don't know what he's thinking. he could be missing them every second for all we know! it could all be one master plan to make them like him, or save them, or something.

BUT. that isn't canon yet.

we don't know what dream is thinking, and until we do, we have to go off his actions and nothing else. because that's all the canon info on it we have.

so in conclusion i'm sorry to say: dream is innocent until proven guilty. as far as we can tell, he wasn't lying. and he did cut off his friends.

[ i would also like to say: dream actually caring about his friends would make him a lot more sympathetic imo. but it kind of wouldn't really change how he cut them off and made them feel so shitty in the first place, especially sapnap. even if it turns out he actually loves them, he still treated them awfully by abandoning them as he did. that's just my two cents though. ]

[dulceheist]

The girls' bathroom | Victoria De Angelis

Requested: no

summary: y/n is on a night out with her friends when she starts to feel lonely and self-conscious. And then she meets a girl named Victoria in a tiny restroom of a rusty nightclub.

Okay so this one is personal cus I hate going to a night out thinking you're going to have fun and then ending up feeling like you're left out or 'the unwanted one'. I thought about writing this a while and I really hope someone can relate and find comfort in this the same way that I do.

Pairing: Victoria de angelis x reader (she/her, third person)

if you have wishes for any other pronouns whether it is to switch them in some fic or write a new one using specific pronounces let me know!

word count: 1.2k

content and warnings: lil spicy it is romantic, mentions of alcohol usage, low self-esteem talk, lil sad.

The music raged in a small nightclub the owners had named 'Beverly Hilla' for some odd reason Y/n couldn't really explain. She felt the bottoms of her shoes stick to the floor as some forgotten spilled drink had stained the dance floor.

The place was tiny for a nightclub. It wasn't really popular either but as for tonight, the place was overly filled with drunken people which made y/n feel a little overwhelmed.

"Anna?" Y/n called for her friend who had been dancing like a Wildrose for the past 20 minutes now.

"Hmm?" Her hymn shattered making the alcohol in her system and awfully clear.

"Maybe we should go take a seat for a while, I'm a little tired." Y/n exhaled.

"Yeah suree." Anna started to make her way to the bar stools, y/n quickly following after her. If she was honest, she was ready to go home but didn't want to leave her friend alone and she was sure she wasn't done yet.

The girls made their way to the couple of free bar stools that were next to a bar. (I know IRL finding two free bar stools in a tiny crowded bub would be a miracle but for the sake of the story, they found two free bar stools.)

"Are you going to order something?" Y/n asked but Anna had no time to answer when a young nice-looking man sat next to her.

"Hi girls." He smiled at them and soon locking his eyes with Anna.

"Hi, I'm Anna." Anna introduced herself to him, smiling and looking at him underneath her long lashes.

"Want a drink?" The guy asked Anna and she nodded.

Soon y/n realized she wasn't really involved or welcome in the conversation Anna and the guy had. She could see that Anna was clearly into him, he was clearly into her and she didn't want to third-wheel. She leaned away from them, studying her surroundings.

Nearly everyone was with someone, a friend, a lover. And if there was something that was lingering in her mind, it was the bitter-sweet question; why was she sitting here alone? If nothing else, she was a perfect individual for someone looking just a one night stand. She was alone and she was drunk, so why no one didn't come to talk to her?

Y/n had to admit that it was bothering her more than she liked. Not that she wanted a one night stand, not that she was looking for anything but it was just the fact how she felt forgotten, left out, and over anything left out.

She turned to look at her friend one last time, seeing her talking to the guy and she knew she wouldn't be her company and on top of that, the smell of the alcohol was making her feel unwell.

Y/n got up, not sure if Anna even noticed, and made her way to the restroom diving past the crowd of people dancing.

The public bathroom wasn't big, indeed in a way it almost felt claustrophobic with its crapped walls and tiny toilet stalls.

Y/n lifted her eyes to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were slightly tired, makeup little off and her hair had gotten messy from all the dancing. But it wasn't even that. If she could have chosen, she would have the beauty queen. Maybe she'd liked to have different shaped eyes and different lips and maybe nicer hair and nicer jaw.

Suddenly she felt really aware of everything that she thought was wrong in her. A tiny tear run across her cheek as she heard the restroom door open. Y/n quickly wiped her tear and went to the sink to wash her hands.

Y/n heard steps as someone walked into the restroom but to her surprise, she also heard a full female voice spoke to her.

"Are you alright?" The stranger asked.

Y/n turned to look at her. The small light-haired girl was eyeing her up and down with her piercing eyes. She was really pretty and her hair rested perfectly on her shoulders.

"Yeah yeah I'm fine." Y/n nobbed her head, Hair messy hair falling over her own shoulder.

"You don't look really fine if I'm honest; you look quite sad." She quietly giggled a little bit. "I'm Victoria."

"I'm Y/n"

"So did you get lost from your mom or..?" Victoria gently joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/n chuckled a little bit to her, "No quite frankly I didn't this time." She tilted her head a little bit before continuing, "hmm, I just think I got lonely."

Victoria studied her a while, "Lonely?" She asked.

"Yeah like I got ditched by my friend who found a better company." Y/n chucked again

"Ohh, well we here now aren't we?" She smiled at y/n and then there was a moment of silence.

Y/n couldn't help but have her eyes glued to Victoria. There was something really comforting, safe and lovely about her. In many ways, she felt like the most unreplaceable person in this world. And she was stunning.

"You look really pretty." It escaped from y/n's lips by an accident.

"Aww, thank you." Victoria turned to look at her, "You too."

Y/n thought about it a while, "Don't think I am." She shook her head before turning back to the mirror.

"What?" Victoria sounded slightly surprised. At the end of the day, Y/n wasn't really good at taking compliments and she knew it herself.

"Just don't feel like I look even somewhat nice." Y/n shrugged her shoulders. It was probably the alcohol that was making her being so open about her self-image issues.

"Well listen.." Victoria took a step closer to her. "You'll never see yourself in the same way others see you and just because you think that doesn't mean it's right. I mean you don't have a say in who I think is beautiful" She smiled at her and y/n's eyes fell to her lips.

What came as a little surprise to y/n, Victoria lifted her hand to lightly touch her cheek and gently pushed her against the stall door.

"Can I kiss you?" Victoria lowly whispered, locking her eyes at Y/n's lips.

"I mean please," Y/n whispered back to her and leaned a little bit closer for her to gently press her lips against her own.

y/n could taste the liquor of Victoria's tongue and she probably could do the same off of hers but it didn't matter at that point when her red burning lips were dancing with hers.

After a while, Victoria pulled away. A blush rose to Y/n's face when she looked at her not wanting to let go of her.

Victoria reached her hand to take y/n's hand into her own and pulled y/n off from the stall door, "Come, Let's go get Pizza. I'm hungry and done with this nightclub anyways." She said flashing a smirk to Y/n.

"Okey." Y/n giggled as she followed Victoria out of the restroom still holding her hand.

[depressedacadamia]

Lightweight

Summary: Will Solace can’t realy hold his alcohol but Nico doesn’t really mind.

A/N: 2 fics in one week? Oh my gods, who is this writer and what have they done with Persephone? Enjoyy yall- I really enjoyed writing this one!  

Read on A03

“Hands off sunshine!” Nico warned as he held the bottle of vodka above his head, his arms outstretched.

“Give meee!” Will cried, his hand sloppily hitting Nico’s arm. The summer air was warm and Nico could feel the thin layer of sweat on his forehead- considering he had to stay in his tiptoes to hold the bottle above Will.

“Will, you didn’t even drink that much! How are you so drunk?”

“You don’t love me! Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you, ya little drunk shithead. You are totally wasted, no matter how many times you will doubt it,” Nico sighed, throwing Will’s arms over his shoulders in a vain attempt to carry him back to Cabin 7.

Will gave one long blink. Then another. “ Where are we going?”

“To your cabin. I’d shadow travel but I've seen a regular person’s reaction to that, I don’t want to see what chaos would come out of shadow travelling a hot drunken mess.”

“Did you just call me a mess?” Will pouted.

“Yes but I called you a hot mess. Focus on that part. It was mostly a compliment.”

“You’re sooo mean to meee. Do you even love me?”

“Yes I love you, stop being so heavy and carry your own legs please.” Nico shifted his back under the weight of his boyfriend's entire body and tried to manage a few steps- they would have been easy if his boyfriend wasn’t so damn fit and if he himself wasn’t slightly inebriated.

“Ni-” Will hiccuped. “-Co!”

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

Nico sighed again, slightly frustrated by the constant question. “Yes I love you, ask again and the answer may vary.”

“Phi Phi is so much nicer than you,” Will grumbled, his head leaning into the crook of Nico’s neck. Nico could smell the twinge of alcohol in Will’s breath along with the regular smell of the spearmint gum he would always be chewing.

“Phi Phi?” Nico snorted. “ Who in the name of God is that?”

“Your stepma! Phi Phi! She gave me so many nice flowers last time we visited!” Will paused before giving Nico an innocent look of disapproval. “ Do you not remember Phi Phii?”

Will accidentally dragged out the last ‘ee’ syllable in the word ‘phi phi’ making it sound like he was a 3 year old trying to read for the first time. Nico almost shivered at the mention of his stepmother; the last time he checked, she still had at least 157 variations of dandelions that she could turn him into the second he did anything going against her liking- afterall, she may have been the Goddess of the Spring but she was still the Queen of the Underworld.

“Yes, of course I remember Phi Phi.” He lowered his voice as he muttered the next few words under his breath to prevent them from being heard. “ How could I forget her and her stupid dandelions?”

“Phee Pheeee!”

“What about Phi Phi?”

Will paused for a few seconds. He tilted his head looking at Nico. “ Do you love me?”

Nico, awfully frustrated, decided to not answer the question honestly. “ No, I do not love you right now. Drunk you is a mess whom not only subject hops but also cannot walk coordinately.”

Nico did not think Will would take anything he said seriously but to his horror he was greatly mistaken. Will’s slow and steady breathing quickly became a rapid torrent of quick and unsteady breathing. Nico had thought that he was just mucking about but then he felt warm tears stain his shirt.

Tears streamed down Will’s flushed face, his freckles were almost invisible as the tears continued running down his face like a current. His chest racked with sobs and he pulled away from Nico and collapsed on the ground. He buried his head in his hands and let his heart beat harder with every cry that left his lips.

Nico watched, his mouth dropped. He had no idea what he had done or how to make it better. He reached out, trying to console the drunk and overly emotional Will but instead found himself feeling guilt beyond any he had ever felt before.

“Will?” He whispered. “ Will? You’re drunk. I was just joking, I didn’t mean anything I just said.”

Will's loud sobs started to slowly quieten down but the tears still freely ran across his face. He glanced upwards at Nico, his eyes rimmed red. His bottom lip wobbled and his eyes were wet.

“But.. but you said that you don’t love me…”

“I was joking. I was lying. I do love you. Only you.”

Nico plopped himself beside Will and shuffled himself closer, awkwardly. He tried to wrap one of his arms around Will but he found it to be too short and only barely touched Will’s other shoulder. So instead, he settled for rubbing soothing circles on Will’s back, calming him and forcing him to breathe slower.

“How do I know you are not lying to me now?” Will’s eyes were innocent and once again brimming with tears. “I always worry that you're just lying to me and then one day you’re going to just go poof and stupid me will be all sad.”

Nico thought he could feel his own eyes stinging- was this how Will really felt? Was Nico that bad a boyfriend that Will felt that every word, every kiss, every moment was a lie? Or did Will just consider himself so unloveable that every good thing that ever happened to him was just temporary or fake?

Nico glanced at the blonde eyelashes that were clad together with tears.

What happens inside that gorgeous head of yours, Solace?

“I love you William Andrew Solace. I choose you. You’re my significant other, significant annoyance- whatever you want to call it. And if I ever disappear, you’re sure as hell coming with me.”

Will wrapped his arms tightly and unexpectedly around Nico’s waist- causing Nico to be pushed onto his back while Will snuggled into his abdomen. Nico could feel his t-shirt stick to him due to the tears from Will’s face.

“I love you soooo much,” Will murmured into Nico’s stomach. Nico could feel his breathing hitch at the words. Nico kissed Will- light and innocent. That's what the kiss meant. He could taste the salty tears on Will’s lips and the bitter aftertaste of the vodka on his tongue. The kiss was quick, chaste and it may have not satisfied Will’s desire but it made him feel safe.

And to both of them, that’s all that mattered.

Will awoke the next morning with several life regrets but none as strong as the stupid amount of alcohol he had decided to consume the previous day or night. He could barely remember anything- let alone figure out where in the name of Zeus he was. The cabin seemed dreary but at the same time it was beautiful. It was dark and light and terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.

Wait. What Cabin was this? Whose Cabin was this? He didn’t think there was any Cabin that was so roomy with such a lack of accommodation. He almost felt like he was in a Cabin for a child of the Big Three- He remembered the one time he had taken a glimpse of the Poseidon Cabin and he remembered it to be huge- something he deeply envied Percy for.

It was only until Will noticed the black clad figure kneeling beside him that he realised where exactly he was. Beautifully tousled hair, gorgeous lips and eyes that one could get lost in forever- he only knew one person with features so defining. The question was, what on earth was he doing in Cabin 13?

Cabin 13- His boyfriend's cabin. Immediately, Will scrambled upwards. He looked Nico straight in the eye and tried to recall to what extent he embarrassed himself as a drunken idiot last night.

“How bad was it?”

“Shall I sugar coat it or give it to you straight?”

Will managed to squeak out, “Give it to me straight.”

“You tried to get into my pants and talked about how hot you thought I was.” Nico shrugged nonchalantly.

Will blanched and he immediately wished that had asked for the sugar coated version. He heard Nico laughing and he could feel his nerves both calm down and panic at the same time. Nico’s laugh was calming and beautiful and warm and made him feel all fuzzy like he was under a fluffy blanket. But he worried for what reason Nico was laughing.

“Calm down sunshine. I was joking- you should have known that I wouldn’t have been able to give it to you straight. You just asked dumb questions and cried a bit.”

“I cried?”

“It’s not a big deal.” Nico batted his hand. Will collapsed back onto the bed with an ‘ow’ and groaned something unintelligible about it being ‘too early in the morning for this’.

“It’s actually 1 in the afternoon but to each their own I guess.”

Will wanted to shout WHAT but he did not want to rack his head with an already painful headache so he instead settled for dropping his jaw.

“Close your mouth sunshine unless you plan on using it,” Nico mumbled. Will felt his jaw drop further before he snapped it back and swore internally. He made a mental note to never have a hangover near Nico because he would use it to his advantage.

“So why exactly did I cry yesterday?” Will asked as he sipped from the glass of water that had been placed at the bedside by, he could only assume, Nico. Will noticed that when asked that question, Nico tensed, his hands digging slightly into his jeans.

The corner of Will’s lips tilted upwards. “ What did you say?”

“What makes you think I said anything? Drunk you is a crybaby and you know it,” Nico huffed defensively, refusing to meet Will's eye.

“Yeah but you’re acting guilty.”

“What if I killed some boring skeleton zombie this morning and I’m only now mourning their already dead body?”

“Spare me the dark and frankly dry humour,” Will deadpanned, excited to hear the cause of his outburst yesterday.

Nico mumbled something under his breath, all while looking away from Will.

“What?”

“I said,'' Nico took a deep breath. “That I didn't love you-”

“-What?”

“But it was a joke!”

Will could feel his stomach churning and he couldn't tell if it was from the hangover or the current situation. He managed to resist a gag. “How is that a joke?”

Will’s voice was so hoarse and weak, Nico thought that he was going to break into tears all over again and he knew that if that happened, he would end up with tears flooding his own face.

“It’s because, well, drunk you kept on asking Do you love me and of course I do but drunk you is just so heavy and you kept on asking and so I of course gave a sarcastic quip and you just burst into tears and..”

Will stared at Nico and for a second, Nico was terrified that he had really blown it.He watched as his boyfriend buried his face into his hands and began shaking. His back was shivering and Nico could hear little whimpers.

“Fuck.” Nico had subconsciously let the profanity pass through his lips.

Will, suddenly, threw his head back and his laugh echoed around the empty Cabin 13. Nico felt stuned. Was he laughing in rage? Should he run?

“Will. I am so so sorry. I swear, it was a joke. I love you, I chose you William Andrew Solace. I’ll do it again and again.”

“You,” Will wheezed. “ Idiot! Did you really get so worked up over drunk me being dramatic? I was being hyperbolic!”

Nico tilted his head ever so slightly but his ravenous locks still fell over his eyes however he didn’t seem to mind as he made no effort to move it from his sight.

“So… you aren’t mad?”

“I mean I won’t reject any special treatment if you were thinking of offering as a way of showing your sorrow,” Will teased.

“Shut it.” Nico pouted. “ Do I not get a dramatic love confession? I gave you two.”

Will raised his eyebrow and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “ If I can count correctly, and I can, I only recall one dramatic love confession.”

“You were too drunk to remember the first one.”

Will let out a groan before softly smiling.”I love you. I choose you, Nicolo Di Angelo.”

“Don’t call me Nicolo!”

[whenyouhearthedoorcreak]

Fuck it, I wrote the goddamn essay

I'm far too invested in this series so heres my far overthought essay on Merlin as a Shakespearean Tragedy

Okay this is just a rough outline of what I want to talk about, but the basic premise is that merlinBBC lines up to be a perfect Shakespearean tragedy (ST)

The nine points of a ST ~

The Tragic Hero ~ Arthur is The tragic hero but Merlin also fits into it on a more personal level. Arthur is a man of great presence and station he fights all the monsters and dies in the end, He has this great destiny that lays heavy on his shoulders and he unknowingly drives the plot for most of the show (I just realised how much of this show Arthur just doesn’t know about? Like the entire plot is happening behind him and he’s just having a sword fight (sub thought, that is exactly how I would frame this if I directed a play of Merlin))

Good Vs Evil ~ Morgana sort of handles this all on her own? She is presented as the moral compass of the show and is then slowly manipulated into a position of villain although there is a more complex look at this being represented by merlin gwen and morgause but that would take an awfully long time to explain

Fatal Flaw ~ typically this is given to the Tragic Hero™ but because Merlin and Arthur sort of split the spotlight this is applied mainly to Merlin. Merlin is deeply and unshakingly loyal to Arthur and while this is initially and somewhat veiled as loyalty to his destiny and the future he’s fighting for, it’s easily evident from his actions in “the sins of a father” that he is quickly becoming more loyal to Arthur than magic and chooses Arthurs well being over the fate of magic kind.

Tragic Waste ~ this is the idea that the hero will die before completing all he could do, and if that doesn’t sound like Arthur then we didn’ watch the same show.

Conflict ~ the corruption of merlins and morgana from morgause and Killgarah is the real core conflict of this show, if those two characters had never been there none of this would ever have happened. While i would agree that they could have done it better the main theme of this shows conflicts in manipulation,

Dichotomy of villainy ~ we are left by the end of this show unable to really take a side because everything felt preventable, for this reason morgana’s death and Merlins victory still feels mostly hollow

Supernatural element ~ I feel like this is fairly self evident

Ambiguity of poetic justice ~ “good will always triumph and evil will always suffer” is the simple moral code that most writing goes by, however a ST subverts this, often having its good characters commit acts of moral ambiguity and the hero inevitably fails or dies in the process. This is doen in MerlinBBC with Merlin never fulfilling his destiny and Arthur never repealing the ban on magic. We can suppose given Gwen's scene during the battle of camlann that she will most likely repeal the ban on magic and raise merlin to the title of Court Sorcerer as is vaguely hinted towards given his position in her coronation scene.

Comic relief ~ STs aren’t all sorrow and hannes acts, they have their fair share of jokes and funny moments. We can see that in some of the more joky episodes, but also in things like That tavern scene.

The last piece of this tragic puzzle is the most obvious, the five seasons of Merlin are the five acts of a Shakespeare play. I've made a handy chart to understand what I mean. Because it's a t because its a tv show and therefore worried about viewers returning the act structures isn’t broken up perfectly, but it still fits fairly well. The thing that leaves people bitter about the end of this show, I think, is because they expected the show to settle, to find a rest in its ending, what we got instead was a camelot that (while still having a trusted monarch) was still in turmoil, and a shot of merli alone and sad 1500 years in the future still waiting for arthur.

What happened with merlin is that we never got the finally, “everything will be okay” moment and so we are left wanting

The themes of Merlin are a dichotomy of Peace and Equality Vs corruption and manipulation, this is displayed through the main characters of Merlin, Arthur, and Morgana, with each being manipulated and corrupted by Killgarrah, Uther, and Morgause respectively. This is shown best through the use of Forked Path. (which I weirdly can’t find any articles or anything for? Which is odd given how popular it is but anyway) the Forked Path happens anytime the characters are presented with two strict choices without much wiggle room, both of which could end badly in the long run but must nonetheless be chosen between. This is very clear with season two's story arc between merlin and morgana, in which merlin must either kill his friend to prevent a possible future, or let her win and risk the demise of albion. Merlin attempts to avoid this, temporarily disabling Morgana from enacting her plans and the like, but in the end he is forced to choose. Arthur is continuously presented with the problem of whether to trust and show mercy to magic. Morgana is presented with either killing Uther and freeing magic, or running from camelot and lending to the further persecution of the druids. The thing you might notice is that these are all linching on Merlin and whether or not he tells the truth, his silence provides false dichotomies for the other characters. This is the manipulation I mentioned earlier. Merlin is led to believe again and again that he Must commit acts against his morals to save Arthur and therefore Albion. But as no fan will hesitate to point out, he never really had to. This is a show of the trope of Self Fulfilling Destiny that's found in all tragedies since ancient greece. Merlin’s attempts to stop morgana directly lead to their conflict, his keeping his magic a secret to protect arthur ultimately leads to arthur's death (having only met “evil” sorcerers arthur never repealed the ban and so mordred sides with morgana). If Merlin had followed his own heart then all would have worked out well, but instead we see Killgarrahs manipulation stop merlin from acting in camelots best interest.