#pity is regret disappointment sorrow

[ikemenomegas]

loss is a condition acquired to bury our pity

pairing: Uchiha Madara x Reader a/n: I should be working on something else, but it's like dragging rocks to do that one, and this one emerged somehow; title from the unnatural apologie of shadows; morning glories sometimes stand for short-lived love, yes red ones do exist c/w: omegaverse (alpha reader), grief turning into anger, nihilism, reader and madara both have post-warring states trauma, hints of characters experiencing war-crimes, madara's terrible plans, 18+ below the cut - reminder that alphas of all sexes have cocks

There is no kind love between you and he. Madara lays on his side, watching you wake slowly. He can feel the sun, low and heavy on the horizon.

It feels as he does, autumn reluctant.

He shifts on the futon, relishing the ache between his thighs and the sharper pain of new wounds on his body. He never knew how to love without a fight - brothers, father, friend, and now lover.

But his hands knew precision, they knew gentleness, they had known surrender.

He watched your chest rise and fall in a great sigh, your face turning towards him. With the red blush of dawn starting to peak through the window and splashing across your skin, you reminded him of asagao, morning glory, blooming with the dawn.

This was how you had met: the first two dark-eyed travelers awake in a dusty inn as far away from other people as you could get. He had been alone for too long, the day he had given into speaking with a stranger, seeking news from across the nations.

And then it had amused him to travel alongside you for awhile, as you were going the same direction as he was.

Until one day had stretched into two, and on into many, and you laughingly admitted to his late inquiry into your destination that you had none in mind. So you had been following one another, in an odd roundabout way.

It was the laugh that had done it, he recalls as you stir and wriggle beneath the covers, the heat of your body beginning to rise. It was bitter and biting, aching, like the empty places punched into his own heart.

He'd made you take him that evening, made himself open up to you like he had not done in years to anyone who was not an enemy. He had needed to, to find the right way to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was not kind. He knew you were capable of it. He had seen your hands too, precise, capable of gentleness, capable of surrender, capable of a fight.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Does it matter, anymore?" you had asked, heavy and ironic, lighting the fire with a look that told him you knew he could do it as well and was shoving the duty onto someone else.

It was rather Uchiha of him, although you didn't know that. Fire was new life of all kinds. Maybe he should have given into this sooner. You've built one up more nights than he had on these near-nonexistent roads. In the old ways, it was one of many forms of courtship.

But he knew what you meant. Boundaries were shifting, alliances with it. Loyalty. You were clearly not one of those who bent yours easily.

But he needed to be sure.

"Not making one of the new villages your home then? I've heard they offer safety, negotiating power so we're not all used up against each other."

You gaze at him, long and wearied, as you stir a pot over the bright, flickering flames.

You don't fear exposure on the road, which tells him your are strong enough to do something about it. You are also clearly old enough to have survived many battles, which tells him more.

"It may be misguided of me, but I think you also know that the wars do not end so easily. Peace happens only too late, when both sides have lost too much. It won't last."

There again, that hopeful flicker of something familiar when you said It won't last.

"What will you do, when it starts again?"

You are quiet a long time, long enough for the soup to be done to your satisfaction, the game he caught so easily before this simmering and tender. You have salt carefully stored in a battered wooden container which you have sprinkled over it. The taste of it is, as always, divine.

Salt is still a coveted commodity, but he has seen you pay only with coin, never offering anything more valuable.

You ladle up a healthy portion for him and pass it over before serving yourself and expertly scraping the embers around the pit so the leftovers won't burn while you feed strips of dry wood to the live fire.

Your eyes flicker right to his and it's thrilling. No one wants to look an Uchiha in the eyes.

It feels like being in a time long ago, neither of you have given the other your family name all this time, as is shinobi custom. He wondered if you would look at him so dead on the same way if you knew what he was. He wondered if somehow you didn't know already. He wondered if you knew what it meant to share words and food like this across a living fire.

He cannot call the look in your eyes haunted. There must be some out-of-time out-of-place spirit inside for such a thing. This was the hole in his own heart, the place where regret and sorrow should live.

It blinked away when you found whatever you were looking for.

"Fight if I must, and die in whatever way I should."

It was an oddly unsatisfying answer.

"Why should you die?" he demanded.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "You're oddly inquisitive today. What will you do?"

He shrugged and smugly observed the irritated twitch of your eye.

It was all the opening he needed to goad you into further snipping at one another. It felt good, to feel the fire of another mind set against his.

Complaining of the repetitive movement of the road drew you to your feet and although only one person could match him blow for blow, it felt good to spar, to flex those muscles, to see the admiration in your eyes at the smoothness of his movements, to see the vital ferocity in yours.

He did not let you get him down in the dirt, only limited his power so that when he went down it was for real, but when you did, he kissed you, lips pressed full to yours.

You pulled back, full of surprise and questions. He glared at you, full of challenge and accusation until you glared right back and got to work seeing how far you could push him.

It was an alpha thing to do, but not done the way he knew most alphas did things. It was rough, but you were so in tune to every shift of his body, learning him.

It amused him to see you spread out a bedroll. The ground was soft sand and rough, but cushioning grass. It would not have bothered him to do this on the bare earth, but he felt a flash of affection as you ran a hand through his hair and undid the tie before laying him down again, combing out what dust had gathered in his thick, coarse hair, careful, never tugging hard enough for pain.

Tugging at your clothes irritated you. He knew this already because he'd seen the flash of ire as an irritable horse had caught your shoulder when bargaining with some farmer, and then the farmer's children had brushed too close and the reaction had been shinobi-muted, but you'd been in a terrible mood for hours.

He did it now because he refused to be the only one bared. You let him because you understood as much, and Madara relished the first warning nip of teeth against his collarbones as a certain galling heat in your scent spiked. You tugged your arms free of your sleeve with a defiant flash of movement, dragging your teeth over the same spot in a way that made him twist into you, hissing.

You pulled back, pausing. "I hate this world," you said. "It can be nothing but hateful when it has none of what I once loved or protected left in it."

"That is not what you want to tell me," Madara said, his breath hot on your ear as he bit the lobe. Your breath hitched in response.

The ties closing his coat had come apart easily but you could not bring your hands to go any further.

"How did you lose?"

"Slowly," Madara growled, yanking on your other sleeve and relishing the dark bleed into your eyes. "And too much."

"Did you watch it happen?" You shivered beneath his calloused hands, tracing over your shoulders and down, catching on the low edge of your sarashi when he skimmed your hip.

"Oh yes," he groaned as you leaned down and sucked a mark at the hollow of his throat. "I watched him die by inches, for days, while his mate fought to save him."

"Who was it?"

All at once it was too much and it was with an easy surge of strength that Madara flipped the two of you so he was leaning over you, teeth bared.

"Who was yours?"

Your hands were clasped with his, and you turned your head, pressed your lips to his fingers as you answered.

"They held me by my robes while they gutted her slowly, right in front of me. It was not fast enough."

You tilted your head to look at him and he saw that same detached absence in your eyes that he knew filled him whenever he spoke of his own last, worst loss. He was also certain that the full story of the event was worse than your abbreviated explanation.

He let you go slowly, untangling his fingers from the bunched fabric pulled down from your shoulders and pooling around your ribs on the bedroll. He sat back and you lifted yourself on an elbow.

He knew you were watching his hands when he shed his jacket. The high collar caught scent and held it close to his skin and he could see the way your pupils blew out as it released and wafted over you.

The scent of your own arousal pleased him. He'd been told before that he was handsome, and it was nice to be admired, thought beautiful.

There was no one else for miles and miles. Without shame, Madara reached down, slid his hand under his waistband and cupped himself. He was slicked-wet.

When he withdrew his hand, he caressed your cheek, felt how you shuddered and turned toward that concentrated portion of his essence.

You did not care that he smelled like blood and the sweet bite of rice grain alcohol. Maybe he would find more like you if he spoke to more people, but he had found you.

You tried to trade places with him once more, but he resisted you, his teeth bared and expression wild. You attempted to lean back and he snarled, deep and feral.

That sound called out to something in you, and you snarled back. He tugged on the exposed mesh armor that covered your chest and arms, and you made an ugly sound in the back of your throat.

"Take it off," Madara commanded.

And suddenly you were angry. He wanted so badly to see what the world had done to you?

He was alight with some kind of victory as you pulled the disarranged top over your head and extricated yourself from the mesh.

He finally did the same as you finished, pulling off his own thin layer, baring scars that spoke of survival.

You came together in a bruising collide, upright like wrestlers, nails scratching at one another as though to mark the moment as different from a state of blind existence.

It was a different kind of violence, but one that he thought perhaps he could get used to. He had already learned there was no replacing what was lost, but here was someone who understood as no one else had.

He pulled his pants off only enough to expose himself, impatient suddenly for something more. You bit his lip when he did the same to you, pulling at the ties on your pants until he could get your cock to spring free.

He was at such an angle where the tip immediately bumped up against his slick opening and the sensation surprised him, invigorated him.

But you were watching him ever so warily.

He moved his hand so that it was beneath him and shivered as he began stretching himself open, the slick sounds of his fingers in his own opening goading you into biting hard on his chest, your fingers digging into his shoulder blade hard enough to bruise.

His scent was a riot around you, heady and clean somehow. He did not smell like the sick, dead tang of a battlefield, but like new iron, ready for steel.

You licked a stripe up his sternum and he shivered, back arching.

His fingers were cooling and wet when he gripped onto your shoulder, nails grasping like claws. The flash of pain spurred you onward and you guided his hip with one hand and yourself with the other until you were pushing up and inside of his hot, wet heat.

The sharp spike in his scent, like the exhale of breath over a clear cup of rice wine, spilled over.

Madara ground down on you, pulling you deeper.

"It's all a farce," he murmured into your ear finally.

You were breathing hard against his chest, buried to the hilt inside of him. You didn't know if it had hurt, to take you all at once, but you knew if it had that he would not care.

"What is this reality worth?" He showed you for only a few seconds the type of pace he wanted you to set, and then urged you on, scoring a line of red marks over your ribs.

You bucked up into him, hitting deep places that put stars across his vision, better even than being dashed over the head or bled near dry.

He straddled your hips. Your legs were braced against the ground to give you more leverage. Yes, his intuition had never truly failed him, and he could feel the strength of your body pressed against his, inside of him.

If he were the type for children, you would have made a good enough sire.

You took him with a warrior's precision and knowledge that time was never on your side, but you also held him in your warrior's perception. He let himself shiver at the intensity of that focus.

You took advantage of the way every shift of his body made his insides tighten around you and heighten his own sensation. You played the remaining soft points on his body like an expert at the koto.

It had been so long since there was time for music, he had not thought to check your callouses for the kind of wire that didn't mean to draw blood and kill breath.

He should ask you to play, he decided as you dragged a shiver from him like a run from the instrument, your nails dragging a pattern across his back and down to his hips and thighs.

He came when you drew blood on him, your teeth digging hard enough into the muscle of his breast to mark him for days.

As ever, once the pulsing shocks had calmed enough to make him want it, he gave as good as he got and reared back, leveraging himself enough to bite down on your shoulder. Hard.

You bared your teeth, some of them outlined in his blood, but locked the roar away in your chest, well practiced in keeping essential silence.

You felt the force of Madara's will lock down against your own, pushing you towards your own completion. Because that wasn't just a retaliation bite, which would have been welcome and well-deserved.

That was an omega's bite, placed over a scent-gland with the intent to own.

Madara did not bite down in a normal way either, sinking his teeth in carefully to leave an elegant scar. He bit like you were enemies, twisting his head as he did, as if daring you to watch him, to stop him, to stop pressing up into him, coaxing his finish long.

It was a very, very old way to do things, a fire way to do things, in more ways that one. The Sarutobi had regimented ways of doing this, now, involving agreed upon combat, and a certain amount of posturing. Some of the other close-fire clans told old tales of mates courting by fighting, long and hard until someone gave in.

You placed your fingers in a loose ring on the nape of his neck, the only moment you would give him to change his mind. He could feel the swelling of your knot at his opening.

Uchiha Madara did not easily change his mind.

You bite was cleaner than his but broke the skin all the same, shredding down until you could taste him, blood and blood and that sharp fragrant note underneath of it.

You bucked up into him, harder, faster, abandoning the normal course of seduction, and lighting his nerves on fire instead of easing them.

He groaned, hard and euphoric, with blood still in his own mouth. Your knot, filling him full, pushed him back over the edge, easy enough, and he let it go, felt the pulse of it behind his eyes. He felt your warmth fill him and it felt right, satisfying. He had been his own fire for so long.

"Madara," you groaned in turn. You did not stop moving, even as he pulsed and fluttered around you, even though it must be causing you your own discomfort.

You laved your tongue over the mark you had left behind, which both eased the ache of it and made it sting as you disturbed the fresh wounds.

It was enough to remind him that all the pain in the world was just a moment, bright like sparks.

All will be as it should, better even, someday.

He had not quite meant to bond with you the first time, but it seemed fitting, after. You had stayed knotted within him long enough to send him into a third, near painful finish, and there were many more bites across both of your shoulders.

He touched one of those now, which had scarred fainter than the bondmark, but still showed evidence of that first, true encounter.

You started, suddenly perfectly alert, half-sitting. Alert to the world around him, around you.

"Wha'sit?"

He smirked a bit at the stumbling stiffness of your tongue. A low, rumbling purr coaxed out from him, filling the room. You spared a brief brush of awareness over him, which was wise of you, but otherwise flopped back down among the cushions.

He curled up against your back so that you own chest cavity was filled with the echoes of him, your senses vibrating with it.

It was not comforting and was not meant to be.

"It's today?" you asked, after you knew the words would not slur and your heartbeat was back to rock-steady.

"Mhm," Madara hummed through the purring.

It wasn't really the right answer. It could have been any day, but if you said so -- well, you had a sense for these things, a nose for disaster that he'd seen develop among some of his own clansmen.

You certainly had a nose for the restlessness that took him, that demanded satisfaction the way his heart had once demanded escape to the riverbank. And despite what Hashirama thought, he did plan their little competitions. Around his own whims, certainly, but they were not entirely random.

"I'll find you, after" he promised. The purring faded, but the warmth of sunlight filling the little room took its place.

It invigorated him, warmed his muscles. You were not so in tune with such things, but he felt the quiet flex and extension of your hands and feet and then your wrists and ankles as you shifted beneath the covers.

He leaned over you, pressing his lips to one of those old scars, fingers finding one of the new marks he left on you.

He will want a bath, before he goes. This is his. He's not interested in Hashirama accusing him of an accomplice. Although he of all people should forgive Madara of no longer being so alone.

You stroked over his knuckles, scarred and toughened with over two decades of battle. "You always do."

With him here, you could believe that the lonely, aching emptiness was just a dream.

With him, it was not kindness, not like the closer, comforting love he had observed between other mates, but you knew his dream, knew his loss and did not deny it.

He thought again of his plan, and looked forward to what would likely be the last time he met his once and only friend. He no longer had the Nine-tails but for a final feint he himself would be enough.

Just as this was. He would not be alone on the other side.

For now, that would be enough.

[kjhbsies]

Chasing Shadows

HELP PALESTINE • daily click • donation links • ways to help • why you should not buy/support TLOU2 remaster

Football Player!Ellie x Classy fem!reader

Synopsis: Haunted by past mistakes and paralyzed by the feeling of being vulnerable, Ellie finds herself determined to win you back. Finding it hard to possibly feel a genuine liking to you, what was once just a bet turned into something more. Following you to a summer camp, will you be finally forgive her and open your heart once more?

wordcount: 8, 265 PART I: PART II: PART III

The street was bathed in the soft glows of the street lights, illuminating the face of the person who betrayed you tonight. You shook your head in disappointment, eyes brimming with hot, wet tears from a mixture of sadness and anger.

“Please…” Ellie’s voice quivered, lips trembling as she tried walking towards you. But you immediately retracted, one foot stepping backward, making Ellie stop in her tracks. “Let me explain.” She says in a tone with what you believed was regret. If she can even feel something like that.

“What for?” You spat, face growing scorn. “You won, Ellie! You fucking won the bet. It’s done. You’re the king, again. And I bet you’ll enjoy your throne after you wake up, and I hope you do. I hope every time you try celebrating your victory, you’ll think of the person who only showed you nothing but genuine feelings even though everyone warned her not to do so.” You wiped your tears harshly.

Ellie sighed, trying to keep her tears at bay, not wanting to show what she truly felt inside. Sorrow. Pain. Darkness. “Let me make it up to you, Yn…”

You repeatedly shook your head, “Haven’t you done enough, Ellie?!”

“I want to fix things with you, please!” She begged, wanting to hold both of your hands and kneel in front of you. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t go near you, you wouldn’t let her.

“Was that part of the bet too?”

“No, no!” Ellie blinked rapidly. “I like you…” She admitted, eyes beating loudly. This was the first time she’d ever say it, and it’d almost feel so good vocalizing it in the air if it weren’t for this ugly situation you two were in.

“How do you expect me to believe that?” Your jaw clenched, internally scolding your heart for still fluttering at her words. You turned around, walking away immediately. Your footsteps echo through the pavement, and you can hear Ellie calling out for you.

“Wait!” Ellie called out, voice trembling with emotion that you couldn’t decipher. “Just at least let me drive you home, please!”

Just as was Ellie trying to reach for your arm, you harshly stopped and looked back at her. Meeting her glassy eyes with a pair of angry ones. “Try to follow me, or I’ll never talk to you again!” You shouted before continuing with your tracks.

Ellie felt like her whole world was crumbling in front of her as she walked you away. She felt like her heart was ripping into pieces as she stared at your shaking shoulders, while your hands were wiping away the tears from your eyes.

For once, Ellie felt hopeless.

With each step you take, Ellie can feel her heart shattering into a million pieces, unable to pick them up. The weight of your absence lies upon her shoulder, making it for her difficult to even move a limb.

She watched you call someone else on the phone, crying. You were so close, yet so far from her touch. A sinking feeling washed over her, and a deep realization filled her thoughts: that you are not going to be by her side again. And how can she function when you’re the one who gives her the motivation to wake up every day?

A figure walked out of the car in front of you, approaching you. Ellie watched as the girl gently ran her hands on your hair, trying to soothe your feelings. You wept, however, but she held you gently. Soothing your feelings with words she couldn’t hear.

You walked inside the car, leaving Ellie’s line of vision. The girl you were with looked where Ellie was, finding in her in a pitiful state that Abby couldn’t even tell that this was the same person who ruled the field with such confidence and pride just a few hours ago. The two locked gaze for a minute before Abby decided to walk inside, ignoring the watchful eyes piercing through her back.

As the car left Ellie’s vision, her shoulders dropped. Knees buckling and falling into the ground. She looked down, finally letting the tears that she held on for too long.

And so she cried, for what seemed like forever.

Ellie might have won the game, but her kingdom was nothing but a hollow shell, devoid of warmth and light you brought into her life.

“I knew it was too good to be true.” You overhear Nora in a frustrated tone.

Your brows knit together, forming deep lines on your forehead as you grumble. Your head was aching, and your eyes felt tired and puffy from crying last night. You, however, tried standing up slowly, not having the energy. You opened the door of the guest room, eyes falling on the two figures standing in Abby’s apartment’s kitchen.

“You should not say anything mean to her. She’s in pain.” Abby says in a hushed voice.

“I know but-”

“What are you two doing?” You asked, startling Nora and Abby.

“Just talking,” Nora said, walking up to you.

“Are you okay?” Abby asked, her voice filled with deep concern as she sat you on her couch.

“Yeah, just a little groggy.” You cleared your throat. “What were you talking about?”

Nora and Abby shared looks, the blonde shaking her head, telling her friend not to say something. But the girl only crossed her arms in front of her chest, ignoring Abby’s gaze.

“About last night,” Nora answered.

You looked away, eyes squinting at the blinding light illuminating from the windows. “What about it?”

“I knew she wasn’t good for you. Why don’t you listen to me?” Nora exhaled frustratingly. “I’ve never seen you so devastated, Y/n. It’s deeply concerning.”

“Nora please…” You begged, wanting to drop the topic.

“Why would you think that she wouldn’t do something to you? She’s a deceitful Casanova! I thought you were smart, Y/n.”

“That’s enough!” Abby stood up, lightly pushing Nora away.

Your eyes prickled with tears, looking at her with bitterness across your face. You faced her, standing up abruptly. “Were you happy that you were right? Was that it, Nora?!”

“Hey,” Abby went in the middle, breaking off the starting fight.

“Fuck, yes, I am! I hope you’d fucking listen for me once!”

“Well then, congratulations! Thank you, Nora, for rubbing my mistakes all over my face. I hope it feels so good to be an all-knowing bitch!” You screamed, grabbing your bag at the coffee table and walking out the door fast. You heard Abby going after you, but you ran inside the elevator quickly, ignoring the looks of disgust and concern on the faces of the people beside you as they looked at your state: hair and clothes being a mess, with a tired face, alcohol reeking body, and a pair of bare feet.

“What the actual shit…?” An old man shook his head at you disapprovingly, making you even break down into a fit of tears.

The scented candles you once put on to relax your brains filled your nose, its lavender scent calming your nerves as the steam of hot water streaming down your body, enveloping you in a warm hug. With each droplet falling into every inch of your skin, you wished that it could also wash away the bitterness and resentment that clung to your heart.

Hours had already passed by as you stepped inside the shower, but you remained lost in your thoughts – filling your brain once again with a haze pure of anger and sadness. You tried shaking it off, lightly pulling down your hair as you desperately wanted to forget her stupid face. But your brain couldn’t stop imagining the event last night, how stupidly good she looked, how you stupidly kissed her, and stupidly fell for her antics. Despite everything, you couldn’t stop thinking about how you couldn’t fully hate her.

Your love for her weighed more than what she has done. But still, you couldn’t bring yourself to easily forgive her.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed after the long bath you took, not caring what time or what day was it. Abby got you covered. She texted you once you got to your apartment, saying that you shouldn’t come to the school today and just get some rest. She also apologized for Nora’s behavior and you scoffed at that. She shouldn’t be the one doing that, she’s not at fault. But, oh, well, Nora wouldn’t apologize. It’ll hurt her pride.

You didn’t respond, but Abby texted you once again, saying that Nora made you an excuse letter, saying that you were sick for the day. Abby thought that it was her way of saying I’m sorry, and you just sighed.

She also updated you once she gave it to Mrs. Garcia, catching Ellie’s figure slouched down her chair, head resting on her arms that were laid out on her desk. It’s as if Ellie was in a trance, she says, just staring at the empty chair beside her that was supposed to be your seat. Abby also caught her curious glance at her figure, asking you if she probably recognized her but you couldn’t tell her the exact answer. You were confused, too.

You buried your head in your pillows, staring at the ceiling. You can imagine how pitiful Ellie looks, and for once, you’d offer millions just to hear her thoughts.

Ellie immediately threw herself on the couch in her shared apartment with Dina, feeling the exhaustion penetrating to the very core of her being, leaving her feeling drained and depleted – both mentally and physically. She buried her face in the soft plush of the pillows, sighing heavily. She didn’t tell anyone about what happened between you two, and she very much ignored every single one of her teammates, not wanting to feel like the total sore loser. Especially with Dina who has been telling her not to do this since the day she knew about the bet. Ellie could imagine how she would scold her for hurting you. And maybe she deserves it.

Dina, who was sitting on the floor of the living room, glanced at Ellie while different art materials were sprawled out at the coffee table, including her laptop. “What was that?” She asked, brow-raising up before going back to what she was doing.

“Nothing.” Ellie lied, heart racing at the thought of telling Dina where she went wrong.

“No, not nothing. Stop lying to me and tell me everything.” Her brows knitted, getting frustrated at the hand-made card she was designing. Ellie remained silent, and Dina had to pinch her lightly.

“Ow! Fine!” Ellie sat up, soothing her leg. “Y/n knew about the bet after we kissed.”

Dina stopped cutting the paper and looked at Ellie with pure disbelief, “What?!” She exclaimed, and Ellie only gazed down her lap, fiddling with her fingers, not wanting to see the disappointment on her face. “I knew this wouldn’t go well!”

Ellie sighed once again, “She won’t forgive me.”

“Hell, yeah. You played with her feelings, Els. That’s not fair.” She shook her head repeatedly. “She’s a nice girl, she doesn’t deserve it.”

“I know,” Ellie answers, almost in a whisper. Feeling the guilt consuming her once again. Her chest tightened as if her heart were squeezing, making it difficult to breathe.

Dina sighed, “You must face the consequences of your actions, Ellie. I won’t nag you with all of your shitty decisions in life but I do hope that you’ll reflect on what you’ve done.” Dina looked up at her, meeting her green eyes. “You don’t have to be the same cruel, heartless person everyone believed you to be. Maybe it is hard to admit that you like somebody, and I understand that your feelings might get mixed up and fight with your mind. But that’s what the heart wants, deep inside, that’s what you want, and burying it with the ugly thoughts that you shouldn’t fall in love with someone else because you’re you, wouldn’t do well. Do you understand me?”

Ellie nodded reluctantly.

“Now help me with the invitations and I might give you one.” Dina pats the space beside her, and Ellie can’t help but smile lightly before sitting down on the floor too.

“What’s this for?” She asked, wanting to touch the freshly made one but Dina swatted her hand immediately.

“It’s for this year’s camping trip. It’ll be held next week when the break starts. It’ll be exclusive only to those who attended last year’s camp, and those whom the camp councils will choose who attend. And since I’m this year’s head committee of the arts committee, I am the one in charge of the making of the invitations.” She explained.

“Will Y/n be there?”

Dina sighed, “Yes. She always is.”

“If I help you… can I get an invite?” Ellie looked at her expectantly, eyes widening with a small light of hope flicking around her mind.

“Fine. Only if you’ll be good.”

Ellie almost squealed in glee, immediately gathering the things she would need to make another card. She copied Dina’s work, and with so much skill that it looked better than the one her friend made.

Ellie would do everything she could to make amends, even if it meant making a hundred batches of handmade invitations until midnight.

Ellie couldn’t even lift a limb today, and Dina basically had to pull her away from her bed just so she’d get up. It was an important day, as all of the students who participated and won the university’s national-wide intramurals were going to get recognized in front of everyone. The Rising Phoenixes’ were the highlight of this year, bagging the 6th win of the women’s football team, and will be going to compete internationally.

But Ellie couldn’t handle the humiliation she had been feeling at herself. Sure, her friends didn’t know what happened, and everyone still thinks highly of her, but Ellie couldn’t go in front of the stage knowing that you would be there. Ellie tried calling in sick, but her coach wouldn’t let her not to attend the recognition, knowing that it would be just as important to him as it was to Ellie.

Ellie stood in the middle of the stage, accepting the huge medal that purely recognized her skills and abilities. She tried to get that smug smile on her face, posing for the pictures. And you watched, trying to hide behind the people in front of you, not wanting Ellie to know that you were there. Still silently supporting her even when she did you dirty.

You sighed, excusing yourself as you tried to get away from the swarm of people trying to desperately get in front, admiring the players. Ellie’s heart raced as she craned her neck, her eyes scanning the crowd in search of you. She wanted to get out of this place or else she’ll get suffocated. So she politely excused herself, declining a girl who wanted to get a picture with her.

Ellie needed to find you, to redeem herself after that night, but you seemed like sand — always slipping out of her fingers.

Her breath hitched as she saw a familiar figure, walking through the busy hallway. Ellie’s footsteps rang through the tiled floors as she hurried after you, her heart busting in her chest as longing grew quickly inside her. With each desperate stride to come get you, Ellie silently cursed as you pushed yourself at the swarm of people, making it hard for her to spot you.

“Wait!” She yelled, making other people look her way. “Y/n, please, just listen to me!” She exclaimed, small tears started forming at the corners of her eyes.

Your throat hurts as you pretend not to hear her voice calling out to you. The once hurried walks almost turn into running. You wanted to get away from her. You don’t trust yourself in front of her. You knew that if you were left in a room with Ellie, no matter what she did, she could just tell you that she loves you and you’ll come running back in her arms.

“Please!” Ellie cried out, voice filled with anguish. “I need to talk to you!”

But you remain out of her reach, just always a few steps ahead. Ellie’s heart sank as she realized that you could probably hear her, you just didn’t want to talk to her, you didn’t want to listen to her explanations and apologies.

“Hey, man, that’s alright.” Jesse came beside her, wrapping his hands over her shoulders, gently tugging Ellie away from the crowd.

The girl couldn’t even fight back, she just let Jesse take her wherever he went as her vision blurred, tears started falling down her shirt. Her mind is full of despair. Thoughts of wanting to just catch you, even just for a couple of minutes, and she’ll try to make up for whatever shitty thing she has done to you. But now, as she walked with her head down while a huge medal was sitting around her neck, she felt like a loser more than ever.

Everything after that seemed like a blur. Ellie’s stare was blank as her head rested at Jesse’s car window, just gazing around the scenery with a heavy heart. Ellie vowed to herself not to stop trying. She had to earn your forgiveness, no matter how hard it is.

“I told Dina you were safe with me, and we’re just in our usual hangout place,” Jesse says, sitting at the cold concrete floor of an abandoned beach house. “Luckily, I still have a stock of beers in my car.” Jesse offered her one.

“Thanks, man,” Ellie says, looking at the beach in front of her.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Yeah, I was surprised as well,” Ellie answered, immediately emptying the first can of beer. She reached out at the box, opening another can.

“Dina told me everything and all I can say was…” Jesse clicked his tongue, lightly shaking his head.

“Yeah, I know, I’m a shitty person.” Ellie nods to herself.

“Nah, I think you’re just a normal person who makes a mistake. I mean, you’re just scared, and I do understand why you did what you did. However, it does not mean that it’s right.”

“Scared?” Ellie scoffed, looking at Jesse.

“What? Did I say something incorrect?” Jesse raised his pointer finger at Ellie’s face.

“Yes, man, I think you’re perfectly wrong,” Ellie answered, raising hers, too.

“Admit it or not, Els, only a cowardly person would do such thing like that,” Jesse says in a serious tone. “Accepting a bet to kiss a girl even if hurting another person’s feelings just to win and for what? Just to make everyone respect you since you’re their captain? Just say it, Ellie. That being a Casanova just shields you from what you truly are because deep inside you’re scared of being vulnerable with someone else.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched, still looking at her friend with knitted brows. She wanted to quip back and say something mean to him, but she knew that Jesse was right.

“You couldn’t fix everything if you can’t even proudly tell that you like Y/n. If you’re going to live yourself trying to hide from everyone about what you truly felt, then you truly won’t change, and Y/n won’t forgive you.”

Ellie sighed, looking down at her lap. Her brain started swirling as she thought about everything. “I guess I just always have to prove myself to everyone. That I can do everything, and no one could hinder that. I’m their captain, and so I should be the one who’s always in control. Not the other way around.” She emptied her second one, immediately opening up the other. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I stayed away from affection because I was surrounded by people who think that loving someone was a weakness.”

“That’s not true at all.” Jesse defended. “I think being able to freely admit to someone that you love them was a sign of true bravery. Admitting that you were willing to risk everything for them isn’t weak.” Jesse put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, looking straight into her eyes. “You are not weak.”

Ellie’s face softened, glancing away.

She sighed, how she wished that the ocean could swallow her whole. Maybe the crashing waves could mimic her troubling emotions. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel lost and alone.

The school year had ended, and the warm sun bathed your apartment in a golden glow. The humidity has been high, sucking all of your energy one by one as doing such simple tasks will have you drenched in sweat. So, here you are, lying on your couch, enjoying your freedom as you stare at the movie on the television, your thoughts flying away.

Abby was out for today, having been running errands that her dad specifically asked her to do. She hated it, going from city to city to talk to someone, get some confidential files, and so on. But, knowing her dad, Abby couldn’t do anything but comply. Besides, her overflowing allowance was his only way of shutting her up.

You and Nora were good now. Two days after your fight, she had been texting to talk to you, putting her pride aside. But you knew Abby had to firmly ask her to apologize to you before she did. You understand her concerns, knowing that she’s just an overprotective friend for you. It’s just that she did that in such a bad way, opening some opportunities for a misunderstanding — which you two had just done. However, you already accepted her apology, making her vow not to do it anymore.

And with Ellie, you did not know what to do. It’s been almost two weeks since that night happened, and the wound is still fresh as that day. You blocked her from everything, not wanting her presence to loom over you. But, it’s not effective as you still couldn’t stop thinking of her. You can’t get her out of your head, images of her face come flashing into your mind, haunting you in your dreams. You tried drowning your thoughts, distracting yourself by reading books, watching movies, and putting your headphones on 24/7, but the sounds of her screams and pleads for you came echoing to your ears no matter what, consuming you whole.

You sighed heavily, trying to focus on the scene on the television to escape everything when a sudden knock came on your door. Surprised and skeptical, you made your way to answer it. Abby was coming this afternoon, but you figured out it wasn’t her because she has your apartment keys.

Opening the door, you found Dina standing on your doorstep, offering a warm smile at you.

“Hey!” She greeted. “I hope I’m not interrupting you,” She said sheepishly.

You immediately shook your head, “No, not really. I was just watching a movie. Come inside!” You opened your door widely, and she stepped in. “Do you want anything? It’s hot outside, I’m surprised you can handle the heat.”

“Any cold drink would be fine, and yes, I don’t have a choice but to do this.” Dina chuckled, following you to the kitchen, and sitting at the barstool as she watched you make a juice.

“What for?”

Dina opened her bag, getting an invitation letter for you. Your eyes dropped to the small piece of paper she slid as you offered Dina the drink which she gratefully accepted.

“Oh, I didn’t know it’ll be too soon.” You said, opening the letter.

“Yeah, the council thought it’d be fun to hold a camp a week after the school had ended. Most of the campers liked to travel in May, and so we decided to hold it in April.” Dina sipped at the juice, looking at you. “How are you? I mean,” She sighed. “I know what happened.”

You cleared your throat, inhaling sharply. It had slipped your mind that Dina is Ellie’s best friend, and she knew everything. Humiliation ran through your face, looking away. “It’s embarrassing…” You admitted.

“I know, sweetie.” Dina placed her hand on top of yours. “I knew about the bet, and I was actually about to tell you everything that night but Ellie butted in. I’ve been warning her since the very first time but she’s persistent on doing it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shook your head, trying your best not to cry. “It’s mine. I should’ve known better than falling for her.”

“Oh, Y/n…” Dina whispered.

You smiled at her through bloodshot eyes, “I’m gonna be at camp. It’ll be a nice distraction from her.”

Dina hissed, “Actually… Ellie’s gonna be there too.”

Your brows knitted. “What?”

“She figured you’d be there.” Dina sighed heavily. “It’s fine if you won’t accept the invite, okay? I’ll just vouch for you-”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, not wanting to cause Dina any more trouble. “It’s fine. I can just… ignore her.”

“Are you sure?” Dina asked, hesitantly.

“I’ll accompany her there.” Abby suddenly butted in, her presence making you two in shock. Abby flashed Dina a boyish smile before extending her hand, “I’m Abby Anderson.”

“Oh yeah, I knew your father.” Dina smiled. “I’m Dina.”

You looked at Abby, “What are you saying? Your dad won’t agree.”

“He will. He promised that this was the last time he’d given me a task. I’m a free woman now.” She gestured both of her hands in the air. “So,” Abby looked at Dina. “Could I get an invitation? I’m just gonna keep an eye out for my idol Ellie.”

You and Dina exchanged glances.

The sun dipped low on the horizon as you hopped off the bus, scanning your eyes through the scenery in front of you. Nostalgia hit you as you smelled the fresh breeze of the campsite, a place where you spent every year of your summer. You started smiling to yourself, trying to calm your wild heart as the thought of spending the whole week with Ellie started forming.

A small touch at your back made you flinch, pulling you back to reality as Abby’s tall frame stood over you, blocking the rays of the sun.

“I’ve never been into any campsites. Ever.” Abby says gleefully, being amazed at every single thing from the scenery during the bus ride, and here in the camp.

“That’s because you are very rich and you spend your summers in Greece or whatever,” You said.

Abby looked at you, offended. “I’m not very rich!” She argued.

“Yes you are, sweetie, you grew up having a Lamborghini for your school service.” You placed your hand on her shoulder, nose crinkly as you tried not to smile.

At the distance, far from your consciousness, you didn’t know that Ellie was at one of the picnic tables in the distance, trying to ignore the girls who started sitting beside her and trying to flirt with her as she only looked your way. Her eyes darkened, and her jaw tensed as she followed your figure walking beside your friend, Abby, to your respective shared cabin.

Her fist clenched, the weight of guilt and regret tugging down on her like a suffocating blanket. She had messed up, she knew that, but seeing you smiling and laughing with another girl only served to deepen her sense of shame and loneliness.

The lunch continued at the campsite’s central meeting house, where Joan, gladly thanked every camper for participating in this year’s camp. Dina welcomed you and Abby, gesturing to you where she was seated.

Jesse nodded at you, absolutely devouring the piece of croissant on his table. Where he got that when the buffet wasn’t even started, you didn’t know, nor did not bother to ask. Unfortunately, you and Abby were seated in front of Ellie, who was already looking at you intently. Her eyes screamed with frustration and irritation for no one knows what. Her ringed fingers were clasped together at the table, and you gave her a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to stir any trouble and trying to keep it civil.

You looked at Joan, trying to avoid even glancing at Ellie's face.

She looks so good.

How can she make a simple black shirt that good? And oh, not to mention how her tattoos were fully exposed, whilst her auburn hair was in a half-up bun. You mentally scolded yourself for the fluttering feeling in your stomach, muttering curses under your breath.

Abby leaned into you, whispering in your ear. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” You hushed her.

Ellie watched the interaction in front of her. Her heart sank a little as she looked at how close Abby was to you — something that she couldn’t do.

You intently listened to Joan who was explaining the rules of the capture the flag, especially to those young campers who couldn’t help filling the meeting house with anticipation and excited cheers and chatters for their team. You, Abby, Ellie, and Jesse were assigned to Dina’s team, and Ellie couldn’t stop feeling a small light of hope to have an opportunity to talk to you.

The lunch quickly ended, and everyone was given an hour to get their team’s respective shirts at the tent and to make the team leader strategies to win the game.

Abby excused herself to go to the bathroom quickly, and Ellie found herself walking behind you, her heart pounding in her chest as your familiar perfume filled her nose. Her heart warmed with such longing and desperation, but she couldn’t find the right words and the courage to speak up.

You, however, were fully aware of her presence behind you. You spent many times with Ellie that you can even recognize her shadow. You tried calming your beating heart as you carefully watched your steps going inside the tent, knowing that she was just right behind you.

You took an abrupt stop from walking, making Ellie’s chest bump into your back.

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly apologized, feeling embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” Ellie answered softly, scratching the back of her head.

You grabbed the red shirt, indicating the color of your team, and Ellie did so. As she was about to open her mouth to say something, Abby immediately appeared behind your back.

“Dina says we should now go under the large oak tree.” Abby pointed, cutting the potential conversation between you and Ellie, and you did not know whether to feel relieved or sad.

Frustration boiled beneath Ellie’s skin as she clenched her fists, her nails digging through her palms so hard. She could feel getting annoyed at the presence of the newcomer, her madness bubbling through her heart, threatening to spill at any moment. But as Dina gathered her team, she couldn’t do anything about it, and mentally advised herself not to let her emotions get over her.

With a deep breath, Ellie pushed down all of her anger and frustration. She vowed to herself that she would make things right, and no one could stop her from doing so.

Not Natalie.

Not even the gods.

And definitely not Abby.

The soft rustling of the wind against the leaves somehow made you at ease. After the game started, you tried to quickly make your way to the forest, knowing that this area wouldn’t be covered by the game. Not wanting anyone to catch you, you quickly ran away, hiding in the bushes as everyone made their way where each other’s flag was.

Abby, bless her, didn’t even notice that you weren’t by her side since she was overly enthusiastic with the game as she hadn’t even played it before. And so there she was, running and defending herself as she tried to make her way to the opponent’s flag, enjoying every bit of it.

The familiar forest enveloped you in its embrace, providing a small sense of comfort as you sat on one of the tall trees. You sighed, ears perked up to hear the birds singing, knowing that you were not all alone.

The weight of holding the burden of being a plaything fell slumped on your shoulders, dragging you whole. You bit yourself, trying to face the dilemma of forgiving Ellie. If you choose to give her another chance, you’ll betray yourself. But if you choose to ignore her, you’ll betray your heart.

So what would you do?

Lost in your thoughts, you sighed, massaging your temples while your eyes were tightly shut. The ache in your heart was refusing to go, memories of you and Ellie came running down your thoughts. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie had been searching for your presence, her heart was deep with longing and regret.

A soft crackle of the leaves made your train of thoughts stop, abruptly standing. But before you could even lift a limb, Ellie appeared in the woods.

Your eyes widen, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. And Ellie noticed how you were alarmed by her, a small pang in her heart as she watched you scramble to your feet. Trying, but failing to go away as she was blocking your way.

“Please… I want to talk to you.” Ellie said, almost in a whisper. She maintained to keep her distance, not wanting to scare you into running away.

“For what, Ellie?” You said, dejected. “Wasn’t that enough? Why can’t you leave me alone.”

“I can’t!” She exclaimed, a lump forming in her throat as she tried not to cry. “I like you, Y/n.”

You laughed with no humor. Despite feeling an ache in your chest, your heart beats wildly against it. Tears started streaming down your face, breaking Ellie’s heart into pieces. “And how could I believe that? You lied to me not even once!”

“I’m sorry,” Ellie says, voice trembling. “I’m so so sorry. Please just give me another chance to make things right. I’ll prove to you that I do like you.”

You did not answer. You couldn’t bring your eyes to look at her gaze. You can’t. It’ll break you more than you’ll ever know. Countless of doubts started forming in your mind, not trusting the words coming from her lips. Uncertainty gnawed on your mind, clouding your thoughts and poisoning your judgment.

“I don’t know, Ellie…” You whispered, your gaze is on the floor. “I want to believe you but I just…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I could trust you again.”

Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes, blurring her line of vision. The huge weight of your words came crashing down on her, breaking every inch of her body. She hoped she could find the energy to run after you, beg for your forgiveness once again. But faced with the reality, Ellie knew she had to respect your decision. She shouldn’t dictate what you should and should not do. Ellie hurt you, and if it was the consequences of her actions that Dina was talking about, then she’ll gladly face it.

She just hoped that you’d still be there when she changed.

Maybe.

Tension was thick as Ellie remained to keep her distance away from you. Realizing that there’s nothing she can do in the meantime, she wanted to give you some space. It’s the least she can do for you, knowing that what she did broke you in many ways she could ever imagine. Ellie’s heart ached as she took a glance at your puffy face, evidence of how shitty she truly was.

The breakfast were held outside the meeting house, a long table were set up by the camp counselors, providing a very-well decorated table and chairs with different sets of vases with colorful flowers. Dina were as busy as ever, but she couldn’t ignore the slump face of Ellie as she was fixing the chairs.

She didn’t comment on that, even when you and Abby decided to sit at the other side of the table, far away from Ellie. She noted how quiet her friend was, fully knowing that something happened last night. Dina has an idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask Ellie or you, not wanting to stir any more conflicts.

“You alright?” Dina asked softly while everyone was done with their meal. Grabbing a garbage bag, she started picking up the paper plates, and the disposable cups and plastics.

“Rough day.” Ellie only answered with a rugged voice, helping her friend out.

“Abby,” Dina called, making the blonde girl look at her with raised brows.

“Yeah?” She asked from the distance, and Ellie tried not to furrow her brows, getting annoyed even by the tone of her voice.

“Can you and Ellie get the garbage bags and throw them at the disposal?” Dina kindly asked, making Ellie’s head turn at her harshly.

“What? Why her?” She asked, annoyance evident in her tone and expression.

“No problem!” Abby beamed.

Dina widened her eyes at Ellie, giving her a warning look. The auburn-haired girl muttered curses under her breath, knowing that she couldn’t do anything about it or Dina would kick her out of the camp whenever she wanted to.

You casually went to Dina, offering her a tight-lipped smile as you helped her clean the area that she was cleaning.

“Would they be friends?” Dina asked, glancing at Ellie and Abby’s backs.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Abby idolizes Ellie, I don’t know about her though.”

Dina smiled, falling silent for a minute. “Are you okay?”

“Still living. That’s what matters, right?” You joked.

“What’s on your mind?” Dina asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I…” You shut your eyes, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I could trust her again, you know. She told me she likes me. But I don’t know if I could believe that.”

“You could choose not to, Y/n. You could choose to ignore Ellie if you want. Do you?”

“No,” You whispered. “Funny thing is… I can’t do it. Ignoring her would mean hurting myself more. But forgiving her that fast would mean that I’m weak.”

“No, you’re not.” Dina held both of your hands, squeezing it gently. “Forgiving doesn’t mean you are forgetting or excusing her actions. You can do it slowly, let her gain your trust once again, and see if it will work. I have known Ellie since we were kids, and I can tell you how much she truly regrets what she did to you. Did you know she helped me make the invitations until 2:00 in the morning?”

“Really?” You smiled despite the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Yeah, she did. I never saw her that dedicated in my life until you came. Y/n, she likes you. Truly.”

You stared at Dina for too long, nibbling your bottom lip. “Oh yeah?”

“What’s up with you and Y/n?” Abby asked Ellie, tailing her as she dumped the garbage bag forcefully at the pit.

“None of your fucking business.” Ellie glared at her.

“Woah, woah,” Abby said, raising her hands in the air. “What did I do? Why are you pissed?”

“Exist,” Ellie answered sternly. “Listen, dude, why don’t you go away? You already have Y/n, what more could you possibly want from me?”

Abby’s brows furrowed, “I don’t– Oh wait, you think me and Y/n were together? Is that why you’re so mad?”

Ellie muttered a curse under her breath.

“Oh, yes, you did.” Abby giggled but stopped when Ellie shot her a piercing glare. “We’re not together. We’re friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Ellie scoffed.

“Wait– why are you the one who’s getting mad at me? That’s supposed to be the other way around! You hurt my friend, Ellie. And even though I was your super fangirl, nothing about what you did to Y/n was right.”

Ellie stopped in her tracks, almost dropping the garbage bag she was holding. Her jaw clenched as she listened to what the blonde girl was talking about, setting aside her annoyance at her for just a couple of minutes.

“I was the one who pushed her to befriend you. You should be grateful to me,” Abby threw the garbage beside her. “She believed in you, Ellie, just like what she does to everyone. Y/n is a great person and I didn’t know why you just took her for granted.”

Ellie slowly dropped the thing she was holding. She gulped as she made sense of what Abby was saying.

“I know,” Ellie agreed. “I’m a dick. Don’t worry, I’ll stop chasing her for now.”

Abby’s head whipped at Ellie’s direction, “Now when did I say that you should do that?”

“Should I not?” Ellie asked, puzzled.

“No. Just one little push, okay? Just show Y/n that you’re sincere. Can’t you do that?”

“I can,” Ellie nodded, mostly to herself.

“Alright.” Abby smiled, patting her hand on Ellie’s exposed shoulder with the tank top she was wearing. Unbeknownst to the auburn haired girl, Abby smeared dirt on it.

Ellie’s nose flared as she fakes a gag at the smell, “Fuck you, blondie!” She yelled, eliciting a loud laugh from Abby, echoing through the forest-clad area.

The crackling flames over the bonfire perfectly illuminated the different faces of the group who were gathered around it. The adults decided to sneak over to do a spontaneous midnight activity and snacks, bringing different snacks, candies, and even alcohol that they hid from their luggage. Even the camp counselors were around, and some of them came up with the idea to call everyone to come out when the kids were already fast asleep.

You found yourself sitting in front of Ellie, giving you the perfect view of her face, the flickering lights casting a shadow on her face, making her green eyes pop as she watched the dancing flames, seemingly lost in thoughts. She did not even notice that Dina had sat on her left side, along with Jesse who was already opening a bag of chips. She did not even move when a girl you were not familiar with started sitting dangerously close to her, the proximity making your left brow arch slowly. The sad girl elbowed her friend, whispering something in her as she kept glancing at Ellie, a blush creeping on her cheeks.

“Oh, my god, we’re going to grill marshmallows just like what I watched in the movies,” Abby leaned in to whisper at your ear, excitement filling her voice as she clapped lightly.

You were about to say something, when someone yelled to play a game. Clapping his hand to gather everyone’s attention, he started to speak.

“I’m so happy to see old and new faces here in camp. I’m Luke, the vice counselor. A pleasure to meet all of you.” He says. “We’ll go crazy tonight, everyone. Let’s open the booze!”

Everyone yelled in excitement, popping the bottles simultaneously. Everyone started filling the massive container with blocks of ice, different candies, and of course, different mixes of alcohol to create the perfect drink for the night.

“Why don’t we play the game of truth or dare?” The girl beside Ellie suggested, a mischievous glint forming in her eyes as she took a glance at Ellie. The bottle spun, its neck pointing in Ellie’s direction.

“Oh, fun!” Another girl says, an eager smile forming around the corners of her lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Ellie answered sternly.

“Boring!” She laughed flirtatiously, making your brows knit. It did not take long for Ellie to notice that your face started growing in pure annoyance, something that she picked up on for being with you for so long. Something inside her stirred, making her sit straight as she tried to ignore your gaze that was boring into hers. Ellie tried to remain looking at the girl who was talking to her, not wanting to lock eyes with you for a moment. “So tell me, Ellie, do you like someone?”

Everyone said “ooh” in unison, waiting expectantly for her answer. Ellie remained silent, her eyes locking with yours for a moment before you looked away, your expression guarded but your heart started beating too fast.

Ellie sighed, taking the hint that you did not want to be involved with her. “Can I just take a drink?” She asks, and everyone laughs, pouring her cup fully.

“Now that’s not boring!” The girl beside her exclaimed, feeling hopeful that she would have a chance on the girl.

You gulped, seemingly puzzled at what you are currently feeling right now. Perhaps, were you disappointed at her answer? Why does a small part of you want for her to express how much she likes you? Even though you made it clear last night that you don’t want her presence near you.

Dina looked at you and she gave you a tight-lipped smile, and you were unsure what that meant.

“Was it just me or did those two girls want to bang Ellie?” Abby asked, looking at them with a curious stare.

“Just shut up, Abs.” You rolled your eyes before taking a huge sip on your cup. The bitterness of the alcohol drew a sharp line on your throat, eliciting a small groan out of you.

The game continued, the dares becoming increasingly daring as the night wore on. But when the bottle’s neck finally landed on the girl sitting beside Ellie, her friend wasted no time in daring her to kiss the person in the group that she found attractive.

With a sly grin, the girl continued to lean towards Ellie. Ellie panicked, taking a glance at you, and was met with a glare from your eyes. She physically recoiled, her tattooed hand pushing her chest to keep her away. Everyone shouted in unison, teasing the girl beside Ellie.

“Don’t do that shit with me,” Ellie glared at her.

“You’re turning me down?!” The girl asked, offended. “Oh, my goodness. No one has ever done that to me! This is so embarrassing. I bet the girl you liked wasn’t even pretty!” She yelled, feeling the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes.

“Actually…” Abby, Jesse, and Dina said in unison.

“This is so ridiculous,” You said, shaking your head as the tension made you feel uncomfortable. You immediately get up, grabbing your cup full of alcohol to take it with you. The crackling sound of the dried leaves filled the air as you walked away, disappearing into a small part of the forest — not far away from the gleaming lights of the camp.

“Y/n?” Ellie asked gently, tailing you.

You stared at her, and part of your brain started swirling as the alcohol slowly consumed you. You leaned into the tree, feeling exhausted at everything as you kept your gaze at her.

“Why didn’t you kiss her?” You asked, challenging her.

“Are you serious?” Ellie laughed sarcastically. “I think I made it clear that you are the only one I like. I still do.”

“Then why didn’t you say it earlier?”

Ellie gulped, “I… don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You nodded, taking her reason as a valid one. “What if… that’s what I truly want? To hear you shout that you… like me.” You said, voice faltering at the last two words.

“You think I can’t do that?” Ellie asked you back. “I like you, Y/n Y/l/n!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, as loud as she could, her words echoing through the silent night, scaring the birds who were resting on their respective nests.

You couldn’t stop smiling at that gesture, so you tried to move your head away from her gaze, hiding your face. Ellie felt a warmth surging in her heart as she took a step forward at you. She lifted your chin, wide green eyes staring at yours.

“Alright, hear me out.” She says, making both of your brows lift as you anticipate what she’ll say next. “I know messed up… big time and I’m ready to earn your forgiveness. So, here’s my proposal…”

You raised a brow, curious to see what Ellie had in mind. The corners of her lips twitched into a playful smile, her eyes glinting with joy as she outlined her plan in her mind. “I propose to dance in front of you.”

“Jesus.” You shut your eyes, laughing at her suggestion. “You might scare the living creatures in here.” You joked.

Ellie danced, however. Making ridiculous moves as she waved her hips, trying to jiggle her butt. You laughed harder as she tried to mimic Michael Jackson’s moonwalk, but failed as she tripped and fell into a pile of leaves.

“Oh god…” You shut your eyes tightly while smiling like an idiot. Even though her moves were not as good, there’s something about it that you find… charming. You sighed, walking nearer to where Ellie was. You offered your hand to help her stand up, and she hesitantly accepted it.

Ellie gently wiped off the leaves and dirt that stuck on her pants before looking at you once again. The moonlight illuminated your face, making her breath hitch as she finally saw you in this proximity. Something that she never thought she would miss. Ellie can finally look at your face and smell your perfume, and her heart warms as she tries not to kiss you right there and then.

“I can’t believe that you thought I was going to fall for that.”

“Well, did it work?”

You smiled before gripping his collar and smashing down your lips with hers. “Yes, captain.”

taglist: @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @amberputh @bready101 @teawithnosugar @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliewilliamgfooc @machetegirl109 @lazcylies @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @missladyhope @stvrs13 @vqxen @mikellie @villainousbear @daribakugo @elliessweetheart @chxrryvalxntins @lulith05 @anyscz @elliessluutt @lively-blues @gasliightt @tphmnv @sofiaaasblog @shiimer @nobodyykxox @disguisedfangirl @sukolover @elliewilliamsblunt @ellishamae25 @marrycv

[seelestia]

Dunno why I felt compelled to do this, but-

Here's some dialogue I just thought up regarding that angsty af Zhongli oneshot that a certain someone requested (who could it be I wonder 👀👀)

The ones talking are Ganyu and the Reader.

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Your love."

"..."

"I regret not being born earlier."

"I regret not being a goddess."

"I regret not being the first."

"I regret not having the long straight hair he so misses."

"But most of all, I regret not being her."

"But you had no control over any of those! It's not your fault!"

"...That's exactly why it hurts."

We love angst 😩💅💅👍✨

- Ever so sadly yours, 👹✨ Jae (also hi Lia :D been a while since I been in your inbox huehue)

— 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.

a continuation to do you love me? choose a decision at the end! only 1/2 endings available as of now.

summary: a cracked heart is like a cracked jar; it can only hold so much within before it shatters — what if you've come to terms that you cannot take the pain of the truth any longer? (1.2k+ words)

genre: angst, "loves you but not most" trope, lovers to ???? (open-ended / cliffhanger i'm sorry.) + read the alt text on the header for extra summary!

characters: ganyu, zhongli, guizhong (implied).

cw: descriptions of crying, one pet name.

thoughts: you came into my inbox after a while and you brought pain with you. i'm not particularly proud of this but here you go, i cannot be blamed for these buckets of tears any longer. (/j)

✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.

The night was young in Liyue, the breeze was gentle as it swept across the lands — but oh, how you wished the wind could also blow the sadness in your heart.

Blurry sight, soaked cheeks, sheer and pure numbness. For how long had you been like this? Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Whatever perception of time you had left just seemed to crumble to dust.

You couldn't help but wonder why? Ha, what irony when you knew very well why.

Wasn't it the truth that was relayed to you some time ago? Wasn't that why you decided to sneak away whilst your lover was sleeping, why you were crying in the company of a concerned friend, why you were here right now?

"I'm so sorry—" you choked out an apology to Ganyu through bated breath.

Your friend was out for a midnight stroll when she saw you and upon seeing how red your eyes were, she didn't leave your side out of worry ever since. You tried to reassure her that you'd be fine alone, really — but she looked so devastated, equally as sorrowful as you were like the very sadness in your heart was her own.

But you felt pathetic; so pathetic and so pitiful.

Nothing had been the same after that day, as much as you wished to deny it. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all; in your case, curiosity was what condemned your soul to a void of nothingness.

They said love was what filled a human's soul and if that were true, then you would be nothing but a shell of a soul. Zhongli gave you a love that you wished to cradle with your all forever — but he was never yours, never completely yours. Yet, how could you blame him? How could you ever blame him for experiencing a love so great he wasn't able to forget it?

"I'm not her. I could never be her," you finally forced the words out, clutching onto the railing of Liyue Harbor until a stinging pain greeted your hands. It had been the simplest conclusion, yet the hardest pill to swallow. A fate you couldn't change even if you wished you could so bad, someone unrivaled you could only imagine holding a candle to. Bitter and self-deprecating were the quiet laughter you let out at the realization.

Never was, never will.

"[Y/N], you don't have to apologize," was all Ganyu could afford to utter. She knew she should've said more, but the words escaped her barren mind; perhaps, it would be better to listen instead of saying something that could make matters worse. You could tell that Ganyu was disappointed in herself for not being able to provide you with profound wisdom or the right words of comfort.

Truthfully, you couldn't help but feel terrible for putting her in this situation, for possibly ruining her night with your mood. But when the Adeptus placed her hand on the crook of your elbow as a physical reminder that she was here for you, you smiled. Then, you turned your head towards the ocean and closed your eyes.

Finally, the pain of crying finally caught up to you, hoping that the blowing night breeze could somewhat soothe the stinging dryness and heavy bags underneath your eyes. As you did so, in the corner of your mind, a single thought passed by and you caught it by its tail.

Was it a thought meant to be voiced or buried? Either way, you brought it to life and wondered out loud.

"...Would it be better if I broke things off instead?"

Your question seemed to take Ganyu by complete surprise.

You knew why so; before your relationship with Zhongli came to be, Ganyu was one of the listening ears to your constant rambles about him. How much you admired him, how flustered you were when he smiled at you, or how you felt like you could float to the skies whenever he spared you a single glance. You recalled the surprised look on Ganyu's face when you first told her about your feelings for her Lord, but she was supportive towards your endeavor.

Now, here was where both of you stood. Oh, how time flew.

"Do you remember when he accepted my confession?" Even with your eyes closed, you could almost feel Ganyu nodding at your words. You were the same, you felt as if you could recall it like it had only been yesterday too. "I was so happy I felt like I could float to the clouds and never return. The man of my dreams is finally mine! I thought," you laughed, but there was no hint of mirth evident in your tone.

"What was it like? Being loved by him?" That sort of question sounded foreign to Ganyu but still, she asked, a willingness on her part to indulge in your nostalgia.

"Warm like having someone wrap a blanket around you and comforting like feeling the steam from a cup with your favorite tea on your face after a long day," you hummed. If loving Zhongli and being loved by him were a feeling, it would've been one that you'd never let go of... but you knew this feeling was no longer the same after the truth.

"I am not his greatest love, yet he is mine," it was something you stated solemnly, having come to terms with that fact yet not being able to fully withstand the ache that came with it yet.

When you continued, your voice broke and you frowned, "Why does it have to hurt so much? I want to stay with him, I want to pretend I didn't hear anything that day, I want to go back to the time where I knew nothing about her — but I couldn't."

The corner of your eyes began to sting once more, welling up with tears at a possibility of euphoria which you could never go to. "If only I could, then I wouldn't spend all my nights awake, wondering why I wasn't her or thinking of ways I could somehow be better than her in his eyes. If I could, I'd be sleeping happily in his arms right now and... I wouldn't feel this pain anymore."

There was no stopping the waterfall running down your cheeks now and you could feel that stinging pain again as a result. "But that's a fantasy," you breathed out. You were just so tired and your knees were beginning to feel weak — but still, you looked at Ganyu through your blurred vision.

"...What should I do? Should I save myself or dwell in blissful ignorance?" You whispered with a smile that was unbefitting of your melancholic question. Ganyu hesitated but before she could formulate an answer, a familiar spoke from behind the two of you.

"...My love," a voice that was all too familiar and a nickname that caused all that was going on in your brain to halt.

You froze, veins running cold.

"R-Rex Lapis?"

Ganyu's shocked yelp confirmed it all.

There Zhongli was, standing there. A few strands of his hair looked amiss as if licked by the wind from a fast-paced trip, as if he had just gone places, as if he just went everywhere searching after waking up with you nowhere to be found in his arms. Maybe, that was exactly what he did.

His amber eyes were downcast and the way he was standing so fixedly instead of looking like he had just arrived instantly made your heart clench — because that could only mean one thing.

He heard everything.

.

.

.

[ WHAT IS YOUR NEXT DECISION? ]

↪ Stay quiet and dwell on your thoughts of breaking up with Zhongli.

↪ Wipe away your tears and put on a smile as if Zhongli didn't hear anything. — COMING SOON!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

© SEELESTIA, jan 2023. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

[taytjiefourie]

Show Don't Tell: Sadness

Hey there, fabulous folks! I'm thrilled to have you back for another exciting day of my 'Show Don't Tell' series! Today, we're delving into the complex emotion of sadness, and I can't wait to explore this topic with you all.

Let's start by recapping why 'Show Don't Tell' is crucial in creative writing. When we show instead of telling, we allow our readers to truly experience the story firsthand. It's like sharing a delicious slice of pizza with a friend instead of just describing how it tastes. By showing, we can immerse our readers in the story and create a more captivating experience that brings the narrative to life in their minds.

Now, what is sadness?

Sadness is a powerful emotion that we all experience at some point in our lives. It's a feeling of deep sorrow or unhappiness, often caused by loss, disappointment, or failure. Sadness is an essential emotion to portray in storytelling because it allows the reader to connect with the characters on a deeper level. When we see characters experiencing sadness, we can empathize with them and understand their struggles.

Dialogue

Today we're starting off with dialogue! and oh boy, can I tell you a thing or two about dialogue in creative writing! See, dialogue is more than just two characters talking to each other - it's a powerful tool to reveal the inner emotions of your characters without having to explicitly state them. That's right, you can show, not tell, how your character is feeling just by the words they speak and the way they say them.

By carefully crafting dialogue, you can hint at a character's inner thoughts and feelings without spelling them out. You can use word choice, tone, pacing, and other elements to convey emotions that your readers can pick up on, even if your characters don't outright state what they're feeling.

For example, if a character is feeling nervous or anxious, they might speak in short, clipped sentences or stutter when they talk. If they're feeling angry or frustrated, they might use sarcasm or speak in a raised, forceful tone. And if they're feeling sad or defeated, they might use a subdued tone, speak slowly, or trail off mid-sentence.

By showing these emotions through dialogue, you're allowing your readers to draw their own conclusions about how your characters are feeling, rather than simply telling them outright. So, the next time you're writing dialogue, remember that it's not just about what your characters are saying, but how they're saying it.

Here are some ways to show your character's sadness through dialogue:

Speaking softly or in a subdued tone

Using a slow, hesitant delivery

Repetitively apologizing or expressing guilt

Avoiding eye contact

Using self-deprecating humor or dialogue

Asking for reassurance or validation

Using a trembling or shaking voice

Asking rhetorical questions to express confusion or hopelessness

Talking about loss or past regrets

Expressing disappointment or disillusionment

Using passive language, such as "I guess" or "I don't know"

Reflecting on negative feelings, such as shame or worthlessness

Using a quivering or choked voice

Expressing helplessness or powerlessness

Using long pauses or trailing off mid-sentence

Using a resigned or defeated tone

Expressing feelings of isolation or loneliness

Using negative self-talk or dialogue

Avoiding conflict or difficult conversations

Using a monotone or flat voice to convey sadness.

Making self-pitying statements, such as "Why does this always happen to me?"

Using expressions of regret, such as "I wish I had done things differently"

Expressing a lack of motivation or energy, such as "I just can't seem to get out of bed in the morning"

Talking about feeling overwhelmed or burdened by responsibilities

Using hesitant language, such as "I'm not sure if I can handle this"

Talking about feeling lost or directionless in life

Using indirect statements to avoid confronting difficult emotions, such as "It's just been a tough day"

Expressing a sense of hopelessness or despair, such as "What's the point anymore?"

Using figurative language to convey sadness, such as "It feels like a weight on my chest"

Talking about past traumas or painful memories

Using vague or noncommittal language, such as "I don't know how I feel right now"

Talking about feeling disconnected or disengaged from the world around them

Using self-criticism or self-blame, such as "I should have seen this coming"

Expressing a sense of longing or nostalgia for happier times

Using metaphors or similes to convey sadness, such as "I feel like a balloon slowly deflating"

Talking about feeling rejected or unloved by others

Using evasive language to avoid talking about difficult emotions directly

Expressing a sense of frustration or resignation, such as "It is what it is"

Using repetition to emphasize feelings of sadness, such as repeating "I just can't do this" multiple times.

Setting/Scenery

Let's talk about how to use the environment to create and convey sadness in creative writing. One way to use the environment to create a sad mood is through the use of imagery. Imagine a scene where the character is walking down a street on a rainy day. The sound of the rain hitting the pavement, the gray sky overhead, and the slick roads all work together to create a sense of sadness and melancholy. By describing the environment in detail, we can show the reader that the character is feeling down without ever having to tell them directly.

Another way to use the environment to convey sadness is through the use of color. For example, if the scene is set in a funeral home, we might describe the walls as a dull gray or beige, the curtains as heavy and dark, and the lighting as dim and muted. These details can all work together to create a sense of heaviness and sadness.

Using the environment can also be an effective way to create contrast and highlight the sadness in a scene. For instance, describing a bright and sunny day while the character is feeling down can help to emphasize their emotional state.

I've got a fantastic list of ways to use scenery and setting to indirectly show sadness:

Describing the weather as gray, rainy, or gloomy

Using dark or muted colors in the description of the setting

Creating a sense of isolation or emptiness in the environment

Using silence or a lack of sound to create a sense of loneliness or sadness

Describing the setting as abandoned or neglected

Using a stark or barren landscape to create a feeling of despair

Using symbolism in the setting, such as wilted flowers or broken objects, to convey sadness

Setting the scene in a place that is traditionally associated with sadness, such as a graveyard or hospital

Creating a contrast between the beauty of the setting and the sadness of the character's emotions

Describing the setting as chaotic or disorganized to mirror the character's internal turmoil.

There's another way to show a character's sadness - by having them directly interact with the setting:

Tracing their fingers along the rough surface of a wall

Sitting slumped or huddled in a corner

Staring off into the distance with a blank expression

Running their hands through grass or foliage absentmindedly

Letting raindrops fall on their face without moving

Slowly dragging their feet as they walk through the environment

Clenching their fists or gripping objects tightly

Kicking or throwing objects in frustration or anger

Covering their face with their hands or hiding their eyes

Leaning their head against a window or wall with a defeated expression

Tightly hugging a pillow, stuffed animal, or other comfort item

Pulling their knees up to their chest while sitting on the ground

Tearing apart flowers or other delicate objects

Trashing their surroundings in a fit of rage or despair

Moving through the environment slowly or aimlessly with no clear destination in mind.

I've also got some awesome details that'll help you convey sadness through scenery alone:

Weather: A gloomy, overcast day with drizzling rain can create a melancholic atmosphere, reflecting the character's sadness.

Time of Day: A dreary morning or mid-afternoon slump can convey a sense of sadness and lethargy.

Location: Abandoned or empty places, such as an old churchyard or an abandoned building, can create a sense of loneliness and isolation.

Objects: Neglected, dusty, or unused objects can symbolize the character's neglect or emotional emptiness.

Colors: Dull, muted colors like gray, brown, or beige can create a sense of emptiness and sadness.

Noises: Soft, somber sounds like gentle rain or the sound of distant waves crashing can create a sense of tranquility and melancholy.

Crowds: A crowded, bustling place like a shopping mall or a subway station can highlight the character's sense of detachment and loneliness.

Architecture: Decaying, crumbling buildings or abandoned factories can symbolize the character's emotional decay and emptiness.

Nature: A desolate or barren landscape, such as a desert or a frozen tundra, can evoke a sense of desolation and despair.

Animals: Sad or pitiful animals, like a stray dog or a sickly bird, can evoke a sense of vulnerability and sadness.

Action

Now it's time to talk about how actions can convey a character's sadness in a fictional story. Instead of saying, "He was sad," show us his actions, and we'll figure it out on our own. It's like when your best friend tells you she's fine, but you can tell from the slump of her shoulders and the frown on her face that she's definitely not fine.

For example, let's say your character just lost a loved one. Instead of telling the reader outright that the character is sad, show it through their actions. Maybe they're:

Staring blankly at a picture of the person they lost.

Lying in bed all day, refusing to get up or talk to anyone.

Going through the motions of daily life but without any joy or enthusiasm.

Avoiding anything that reminds them of the person they lost.

Crying uncontrollably at unexpected moments.

Losing their appetite or neglecting personal hygiene.

Snapping at loved ones who try to comfort them.

See how much more powerful and engaging that is than simply stating, "He was sad"? It allows the reader to empathize with the character and experience their sadness alongside them.

Here are a few other examples:

Slumping or drooping posture

Avoiding eye contact or looking down

Crying or tearing up

Frowning or looking solemn

Loss of appetite or overeating

Inability to sleep or sleeping too much

Lack of interest in activities they normally enjoy

Neglecting personal hygiene or appearance

Withdrawing from social situations

Clenching fists or tensing muscles

Moving slowly or sluggishly

Hesitating or procrastinating

Avoiding conversations or communication

Self-harm or destructive behavior

Engaging in risky behavior

Substance abuse or excessive drinking

A lack of energy or motivation

Losing track of time or being forgetful

Becoming easily frustrated or irritable

Exhibiting a lack of enthusiasm or passion for life

Remember that if a character is feeling sad and depressed, they might stop taking care of themselves, neglect their hygiene, and lose interest in their hobbies. They may also isolate themselves from others, withdrawing from social situations and avoiding conversations.

Body Language

Body language is a huge part of showing emotions in creative writing, and sadness is no exception! The way a character holds themselves, their posture, and their movements, can all tell the reader a lot about how they're feeling.

For example, imagine a character who has just received some terrible news. They might slump their shoulders, avoid eye contact, and wring their hands. These actions convey their feelings of defeat, sadness, and worry without the writer having to tell the reader directly.

Body language can also be used to create tension and conflict between characters. If one character is sad and another is trying to comfort them, the way they position themselves in relation to each other, the way they touch each other or don't touch each other, can all convey different emotions and create a deeper sense of meaning in the scene.

Here! I'll provide you with a short list of ways body language can convey sadness:

Drooping or slumping shoulders

Hunching over or curling up into a ball

Clasping or wringing hands

Biting or licking lips

Rubbing or covering eyes

Frowning or furrowing eyebrows

Tilting the head downward

Avoiding eye contact or looking down

Crossing arms or legs

Gazing into the distance or staring off into space

Sighing heavily or audibly

Slow or shuffling movements

Trembling or shaking

Fidgeting or restlessness

Wrinkling or rubbing the forehead

Holding oneself or self-soothing gestures

Stiff or tense posture

Lack of facial expression or a neutral expression

Slow or lack of movement

Deep, heavy breathing

A weak or feeble voice

Avoiding physical touch or contact

Shrinking or pulling away from others

Failing to respond or acknowledge others

Refraining from smiling or laughing

Breaking eye contact quickly

Pacing or fidgeting

Yawning excessively

Looking tired or fatigued

Crying or tearing up

Point of view

Let me tell you about the power of using point of view in creative writing to show a character's sadness indirectly. Point of view is all about the perspective from which the story is told, and it allows us to see the world through our character's eyes. By exploring our character's inner thoughts, inner dialogue, and emotional state, we can beautifully convey their feelings of sadness.

A character's sadness can be conveyed through things like:

Negative self-talk, such as self-doubt or self-criticism

Focusing on negative aspects of the environment or situation

Recalling past negative experiences or memories

Expressing a lack of motivation or interest in their surroundings

Having a pessimistic or cynical outlook on the future

Feeling disconnected or detached from others

Feeling overwhelmed or burdened by their emotions

Seeing the world in black and white, without much color or vibrancy

Struggling to find joy or pleasure in activities they used to enjoy

Having difficulty concentrating or focusing on tasks

Feeling hopeless or helpless about their situation

Expressing a desire to isolate or withdraw from others

Being irritable or easily agitated with others

Struggling to communicate their feelings to others

Feeling like they are a burden to others

Expressing a sense of numbness or emptiness

Feeling like they are trapped or stuck in their situation

Being indecisive or hesitant in their actions or choices

Feeling like they don't belong or fit in with their surroundings

Expressing feelings of guilt or shame

Having difficulty sleeping or eating properly

Feeling like they are constantly on edge or anxious

Seeing themselves as an outsider or outcast

Struggling to make meaningful connections with others

Feeling like they are invisible or overlooked by others

Expressing a sense of longing or yearning for something they can't have

Feeling like they are drowning in their emotions

Struggling to find purpose or meaning in their life

Feeling like they are stuck in a rut or a cycle of negativity

Expressing a sense of regret or remorse for past actions or choices.

Sensory Detail

Sensory details can take your writing to the next level! By incorporating sensory details into your writing, you can transport your readers into the world you've created and make them feel like they're a part of the story. Whether you want to evoke sadness, joy, or fear, sensory details are an essential tool for creating an emotional response in your readers.

Specifically, when it comes to showing a character's sadness, sensory details can be particularly effective. By describing their environment using muted colors and soft sounds, for example, you can create a somber atmosphere that resonates with the character's emotions. Additionally, describing physical sensations like a heavy chest or lump in the throat can help the reader understand just how deeply the character is feeling their sadness.

Remember, sensory detail isn't limited to external sensations - sensory detail can also include how the inner turmoil of the character interacts with the outside world, such as associating certain smells with sad memories.

I'll give you guys a few techniques for using sensory detail to show sadness:

Describing the weight of a character's heart or chest

Mentioning the salty taste of tears on the character's lips

Describing the sound of the character's labored breathing or sobs

Noticing the way the character's eyes water or become red

Describing the feel of tears streaming down the character's face

Mentioning the chill or shivers that accompany sadness

Describing the dull ache or pain in the character's body

Noticing the way the character's voice cracks or shakes

Describing the character's inability to eat or taste food

Mentioning the heaviness or stiffness in the character's limbs

Describing the character's difficulty in sleeping or restlessness

Noticing the way the character's hands tremble or shake

Describing the character's detachment or numbness

Mentioning the lack of appetite or desire to eat

Describing the character's exhaustion or fatigue

Noticing the way the character's posture slumps or droops

Describing the character's sensitivity to light or sound

Mentioning the character's lack of interest or enthusiasm

Describing the character's reluctance to leave their bed or room

Noticing the way the character's movements become slower or more deliberate

Describing the way the character's world becomes smaller or more constricted

Mentioning the character's lack of motivation or energy

Describing the way the character's skin becomes pale or sallow

Noticing the character's tendency to withdraw from others or isolate themselves

Describing the character's lack of focus or concentration

Mentioning the character's difficulty in making decisions or taking action

Describing the character's hypersensitivity to smells or tastes

Noticing the character's tendency to cry easily or frequently

Describing the way the character's thoughts become more negative or self-critical

Mentioning the character's lack of interest or pleasure in their usual activities.

Metaphors and Analogies

Metaphors and analogies in creative writing! These tools are like superpowers that allow us to express complex emotions in fun and unique ways. When we use them effectively, we can paint a picture in our reader's mind, making them feel and understand the emotions we're expressing. It's like adding a sprinkle of magic to our writing!

Here's how to use metaphors and analogies to show sadness in our writing! It's like playing a game of compare and contrast, where we compare the emotion to something that's relatable and tangible. For instance, we can describe sadness as a heavy weight on the character's chest, or a dark cloud that hangs over their head. By using these comparisons, we can help our readers to visualize the emotion in a more concrete way, making it easier for them to connect with the character and empathize with their experience.

Let's keep the creative juices flowing and talk about another way to use metaphors and analogies to show sadness in our writing! Instead of just describing the emotion itself, we can also use them to describe the character's actions or behavior. It's like giving our readers a visual representation of how the character is struggling with sadness. For example, we can compare a character who's dealing with sadness to a ship lost in a stormy sea, or a bird with a broken wing. These comparisons not only help the reader to understand the character's emotional state, but also create a sense of sympathy and compassion for their struggle.

Here are some examples for you to look at:

"Her heart was a shattered vase, the pieces impossible to put back together."

"He was a lone tree in the midst of a barren desert, with no hope of ever finding water."

"She felt as if a heavy weight was crushing her chest, suffocating her with grief."

"The sadness she felt was an ocean, deep and vast, with waves crashing over her constantly."

"His sadness was a thick fog, enveloping him in a cloud of melancholy."

"She felt like a bird with broken wings, unable to fly and trapped on the ground."

"His sadness was a never-ending tunnel, with no light at the end and no way out."

"The emptiness inside her was a black hole, devouring everything in its path."

"He was a ship lost at sea, with no sense of direction and no hope of rescue."

"Her sadness was a wildfire, spreading quickly and consuming everything in its path."

It's time to wrap up this post, but don't fret, I'll be back with more writing tips and tricks soon! There are plenty of these post on my tumblr so check them out too! or you can find a more organized version of them all here!

[letsgetrowdy43]

Take Me As I Come (Rowan's Version)—

Nico Hischier x Angie Chandler

Warnings: A lot of angst, some undersage drinking and partying, swearing, if you notice anything else please lmk!

Based on the song "Take Me As I Come" by Evan Honer and Wyatt Flores

Au Masterlist!

Another day, another regret, try to remember how the night went Oh, this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, tells me it didn't go well

Angie woke up to a harsh beam of sunlight cutting through the gap in the heavy hotel curtains. Her head throbbed with a relentless, pounding ache, and her mouth felt like sandpaper. She squinted against the light and groaned, slowly piecing together the events of the previous night.

The draft. The endless anticipation. The crushing disappointment.

It all kinda felt like a blur, it was two days fuelled by nerves, and then ending with the downfall of her dreams.

he tried to sit up but immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea swept over her. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she winced as she reached for it. "Congrats to all the draftees! The future of hockey looks bright!" read one of the many notifications that flooded her team's group chat.

She threw the phone back onto the bed beside her, the notifications a cruel reminder of what she'd lost and what she would never accomplish. All of her best friends had been drafted in the past two days. She remembered the moment vividly: Jack's name being called, the roar of the crowd, the tears of joy streaming down Ellen's face. Angie had clapped and cheered, forcing a smile as her next teammate was called, and then another, and then another, and so forth.

She was proud of her boys, but it still felt like the world was quickly collapsing around her.

After that, everything had become a blur of congratulations and celebrations. The league had thrown the families of draftees a party and Angie had been pulled into the center of it, the designated best friend, expected to share in their joy.

She’d taken shot after shot, each one a futile attempt to drown her sorrow. The night devolved into a haze of loud music, laughter, and her own silent despair which ultimately led her to now, in pain both physically and mentally, staring at the roof of a hotel room she was even sure was hers.

"Angie, are you okay?" Trevor's voice startled her from her thoughts as she looked to the other bed in the room that was crowded with a hungover Jack, Trevor, and Cole, all still clad in their draft jerseys. "Yeah, just... so happy for you guys," she’d lied, her smile filled with hurt.

Angie dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the remnants of last night. The girl staring back at her in the mirror looked as broken as she felt, red-rimmed eyes, tangled hair, and a vacant expression.

She needed to get out of this room, out of this headspace.

★★★★

Lost a couple of my friends, and in the morning try to mend Can't fix what's in pieces for my selfish reasons, tryna run from myself

Angie lay in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The room was dark, the air seemed thick, and the curtains were drawn tight to block out the sunlight.

Days had blended into nights in a haze of grief and self-pity. Her phone lay discarded next to her, the battery almost dead from lack of use. She had ignored countless calls and messages, isolating herself from the world outside.

Her body ached from inactivity, her muscles stiff and sore. She knew she needed to get up, to do something, anything, but the weight of her disappointment kept her pinned to the mattress.

this was truly peak bed-rotting.

The draft had been a week ago, but the heartbreak felt as raw and fresh as ever. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the names being called, and felt the sting of her own failure, she could've worked harder, could've pushed herself to be better, be better at interviews, and be more welcoming like all of her teammates.

In a moment of restless boredom, she picked up her phone and scrolled aimlessly through social media. Highlights from the draft, celebratory posts from her friends, and news articles all seemed to mock her failure. She switched to YouTube, hoping to find something to distract herself. As she scrolled through recommended videos, a familiar thumbnail caught her eye, one of her interviews with ESPN, her shy smile next to Jack's bright one staring right back at her as she chewed her lip with anxiety.

Angie hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen as she thought back to that fateful day.

That Angie was pathetically naive.

She remembered that interview, how excited and hopeful she had been. The reporter had asked her about her dreams, her journey, and her expectations for the draft.

She clicked on the video, and her own face appeared on the screen. She looked so young, so gullible. The Angie on the screen was full of optimism, talking about her rigorous training schedule, her supportive family, and how much it meant to her to be on the brink of her NHL dream.

It was such a load of bullshit.

People must have watched this and laughed at how hopeful she had been, how big-eyed and almost greedy she was to think that she was worthy of achieving the unimaginable. her heart crushed a little knowing that this version of Angie would never get to have her moment, never get to be the best, or even amongst the bests.

"I've worked so hard for this moment," she heard herself say. "I know I have what it takes, and I'm just so grateful for the opportunity."

Angie felt a wave of nausea as she watched. How could she have been so sure of herself? How could she have believed that everything would go perfectly? She had been so confident, so certain that her name would be called. It was almost laughable now, seeing how wrong she had been.

She shut her phone off, unable to stomach another second of humiliation, that video was a whole life time ago, she was not that Angie anymore, that version of Angie had never felt the pain of not being good enough before. This current Angie had felt that hell, and to think that she could go from so hopeful to so crushed felt so morbid.

★★★★

I let a lot of people down, they're not surprised this time around They say I'm a ticking time bomb, way too fucking far gone to probably get some help

Angie was startled as Quinn burst through the door of her room, his brows furrowed with worry as he walked up to the window and ripped the curtains open. "Shouldn't you be at the rink," she groaned as the light hit her face, rolling over to be face down into her mattress. "You be at the rink as well," he said with a snappy tone and a face of concern.

He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he kicked off his boots and collapsed onto the bed beside her. The mattress sank under his weight, and she rolled into his side for comfort as they lay there for a second of silence.

Quinn sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "Dad's been asking about you," he said, his voice gentle, "Jimmy misses your face around the gym, he's been complaining that his favourite girl isn't there to show all the boys up." Angie closed her eyes, the mention of Jimmy pulling at her heartstrings.

Jimmy had been like a second father to her, always pushing her to be her best, always believing in her when she didn't believe in herself.

The thought of him missing her stung deeply.

But the thought of lacing up her skates and never being considered worthy of being the best stung even more

"I don't know, Quinn," she whispered as her hand played with the bracelet on his wrist, one she had given him as a souvenir after her first U18 Woman's Worlds, her voice barely audible, "I don't think I'm cut out to be a failure, its all too much for me." Quinn turned to her, his expression unreadable as he shook his head, "you're not giving up. You've worked too hard, and come too far to let this setback define you."

Angie shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes trying to stop the burning, "I don't even know where to start. I've lost all my confidence. I can't face them, Quinn. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be so naive and thousands of people got a front row to witness it?" Quinn sat up, leaning over her so she would look him in the eyes "Listen to me. You're one of the strongest women I know. This... this is just a bump in the road. But you need to get out of this bed and start moving forward before you're stuck in this rut forever."

She let out a sigh as she pushed his face out of her line of view, a smile on his face as he watched her lips turn up into a grin at the sight of him hanging off the side of her bed.

"Promise me you'll try?" he asked, standing up to finally leave for the rink. She nodded as she sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, "we'll see," she pressed her cheek against her knee as he mumbled a quick goodbye followed by an apology for his short visit before he left to head to training. With that, Quinn left the room, leaving Angie alone with her thoughts again.

A few moments later, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as she saw the caller ID, "Jimmy".

With a shaky breath, she pressed the phone to her cheek and answered, "Hey, Jim." "Angie," Jim's voice boomed through the phone, warm and a little surprised at the quick response, "what's going on, kiddo?"

Angie swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill over, "I'm sorry, Jim. I just... I don't know if I can do this anymore." "You are not a quitter Ange," he said kindly, the sound of skates on the ice slowly disappearing as he headed into one of the dressing rooms for some privacy, "you've got a hell of a lot more fight in ya', and so much more hockey to play."

Angie took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of the old fire reignite within her, "I don't know where to start. I feel so lost." "Start by getting up," Jim said, "come back to the gym. Let us help you get back on track. You're not alone in this, Angie. We’re a team, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she listened to the hope in his voice, "Okay, Jim. I'll be there tomorrow." "That's my girl," Jim said, pride evident in his voice. "We'll see you then."

Tomorrow, she would face the world again. She wasn't done yet.

★★★★

Take me as I come, or don't take me at all I'm gonna let you down, I'm gonna lead you lost

The University of Minnesota's hockey arena buzzed with the energy of pre-season training. Angie walked through the doors, her heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and excitement. It had been months since she had felt this way, a spark of anticipation that she had almost forgotten.

The door to the girl's locker room creaked open, and Angie was greeted by a chorus of voices and laughter. The University of Minnesota women's hockey team was in full swing, getting ready for their first practice of preseason development camp. The air was thick with friendship, and for the first time in a long while, Angie felt excited.

"Hey, you must be Angie Chandler!" a girl with long brunette hair and half of her gear on said, stepping forward with a bright smile. "I'm Taylor. We've heard so much about you." Angie smiled back, though her nerves still tingled. "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you."

The rest of the team gathered around, each one introducing themselves with genuine warmth. A wave of relief washed over Angie, this was gonna be good, these girls didn't look at her with pity or judgement; they looked at her with admiration and curiosity.

"We've been dying to meet you," another girl, Amy, said. "The trainers have been bragging about you for weeks. Says you're the best player they've ever seen." Angie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as her smile grew shy, "they're just being nice." "No, seriously," Taylor chimed in, "We've all seen the highlights. You're incredible. We've all been talking about how cool it is that you're joining us."

Angie couldn't help but smile as she was pulled into a hug by two of her teammates before they showed her where her locker was. The acceptance and praise from her new teammates felt like a balm to her wounded spirit. For so long, she had felt like an outsider, her place on a team had always been conditional, with the expectation of being the greatest, her confidence shattered by the draft's rejection. But here, among these girls, she felt a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced in months.

As they chatted, Angie found herself opening up, sharing stories about her experiences, the US boys, her training, and even sharing a little about her draft. The girls listened, asking questions and expressing their admiration. They made her feel welcome, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was part of something bigger than herself.

★★★★

Darling, I mean well, I won't leave 'til I'm gone I'm the maker of hell, Burn every bridge I've known

Angie laid in her bed, phone pressed up against her ear as she listened to Quinn's rambling on the other end. Her muscles were sore from practice, but it was a good kind of sore, the kind that reminded her she was moving forward. However, Quinn’s voice on the other end brought back a wave of frustration.

"Have you talked to Jack?" "Briefly," she mumbled as she flipped through her notebook, "I kinda snapped on him so we haven't talked since... I'm a shit friend"

Quinn let out a sigh, "your not a shit friend, maybe a little Hotheaded, but he understands, you're both going through changes right now," Angie bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don't know, he’s struggling, and instead of being supportive, I just made it about me." "You're only human," Quinn said softly, "you’re allowed to feel hurt and frustrated. But you need to talk to him, clear the air."

sometimes Quinn was too kind for his own good.

"He misses you, you know." "I miss him too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It’s just hard to hear about his struggles, knowing that could've been me. It's like a constant reminder of what I lost." "I get that," Quinn replied. "But Jack looks up to you, you're his best friend, and he needs your support, even if things didn’t go the way you planned."

Angie closed her eyes as her hands rubbed small circles into her temples, "I know. I just... I feel so angry all the time. It’s like I can't control it anymore." "You’ve been through a lot," Quinn said gently. "But you’re stronger than all of this."

She sat there tears in her eyes, silence settling between them as she wiped her tears and let his words really sink it.

★★★★

Another night, another mistake, and I wound up at the same place In a cheap hotel room with the parking lot view, still not sure where I am

If there was one thing she learned in her first year of university it was that parties were fun in moderation, but too many made the nights blur into her days and it all felt a little mind-numbing.

Her lips pressed against some random guy, the only things she had learned about him being that he was a pledge in the frat that was throwing the party she was currently at and that he was majoring in business psychology. His kisses were rough, his poorly grown mustache kinda scratchy, and his hands pinching a little too hard at the skin of her hips.

She pulled away, head spinning as she watched his face pull into a frown, “you okay?” His hands found her shoulders to steady her as her eyes glazed over with drunken haze. “I don't know,” she mumbled, wiping the beer taste from her lips as his hands kept her grounded, “I need to go home.”

She pulled away from him without another word heading towards the door but not before he followed right after her, “you can't walk home alone," his hand reached out for hers, but she pulled away and walked even faster. “I'm fine, I'm not interested in you coming to my dorm with the intention of fucking me, I don't even know you,” she stated not even looking back at him.

“Thats not what I'm trying to do!” “I'm fine!” she yelled out as she left him on the lawn watching with a concerned look on his face as she stubbornly and drunkenly headed in the direction of the university.

She miraculously made her way back to her dorm unharmed and in one piece, her head spinning and tears brimming her eyes as she collapsed on her bed. Her gaze landed on the photo of her and Jack huddled around a campfire, it was 4th of July the summer going into senior year and life seemed so set at that time.

Her lips trembled as the palms of her hands dug into her eyes, trying to stop the tears before they started. She hadn't spoken to Jack in weeks, the last time they had called she yelled at him for complaining about hsi rookie year. She was loosing everything, loosing herself to a rejection that happened months ago.

Her phone vibrated as a notification, Jack had liked the spam post she had posted a few hours prior on her finsta. The account a little photo album of her life that was only shared with the closest of friends.

She stared at the notification and then dialled Jack's number, her head beginning to pound as the effects of the liqour began to wear off. Without giving herself time to overthink it, she dialed Jack's number.

He picked up by the second ring. "Ange?" "I miss you and I'm sorry for being a bitch," she blurted out, her voice cracking.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Jack spoke, his tone gentle as he listened to her ragged breaths, "Angie, it's okay. What's going on?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to find the words. "Everything's just so messed up, Jack. School, hockey, the media... I feel like I'm drowning, and ive ruined our friendship by taking it all out on you." "Hey, take a deep breath," Jack said softly, "I'm not going anywhere, you were upset and i know you didnt mean it. Just talk to me."

Angie took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself as she laid an arm over her eyes to block her vision, needing the room to stop spinning, "I thought I could handle it all, you know? But it's just too much. And I pushed you away because I didn't know how to deal with everything." "I get it, Ang," Jack replied, "You've always put so much pressure on yourself. But you don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you, no matter what."

His words were a soothing to her nerves, and she felt a bit of the tension in her chest at ease, "I just... I miss how things used to be. Before everything got so complicated. I miss michigan and living with you and getting to see you everyday." "Me too," Jack admitted, "but we're still us."

A fresh wave of tears spilled over as she heard the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you, Jack. I really needed to hear that."

They talked for a while longer, Angie pouring out her heart as Jack listened. He shared stories from his own life, making her laugh and reminding her of the bond they shared. By the time they hung up, she felt more grounded, more like herself.

As she lay back down, her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Jack.

"Always here for you, Ange. Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."

★★★★

I left my heart in the car, and I parked it real far So she wouldn't notice or ever gain focus, of who I am

Almost a year and a half had passed since that night, and life had gotten a little easier as time went on, but the scars of the draft still remained, a distant memory that she couldn't seem to shake.

She was now a junior at the University of Minnesota, and her life had taken on a new rhythm. The demands of college hockey, coupled with the growing media attention around her breaking barriers in the sport, had kept her busier than ever.

But tonight, she was trying to take a break from it all.

She was gonna have a boy over.

She sat on the edge of her bed in her dorm room, laughing at something a boy named Aaron had said. They had met in one of her elective classes, a painting class they were both taking for some art credits, and he seemed genuinely nice, a refreshing change from the usual attention she received.

He took her out for a nice dinner, opened all the doors for her, and even paid for their meal, and now they were lounging around in her dorm. Laughter filled the air as he shamelessly flirted with her, tucking her hair behind her ear and whispering about how pretty she was before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

A look of an unwanted question took over his expression as he stared at her for a second.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinks for a second, "I'm trying to figure out where I've seen you before, I feel like I've seen your face even before this semester" Her cheeks redden as she brings her knees up to her chest, cheek pressed against her leg. "I don't know what you're talking about," she laughs a little nervously as he squints, obviously picking up on the uncomfortable energy between them.

"You just look so familiar," Aaron insisted, his brow furrowing as he tried to place her, "Wait a minute... You're the Angie Chandler, as in the girl who tried to break into the NHL but didn't get drafted?"

Angie's stomach dropped.

She had hoped he wouldn't recognize her, that for once she could just be a normal college student without the weight of her past hanging over her.

She forced a smile. "Yeah, that's me." "It all makes sense now," he let out a laugh, "I remember watching that video of you after the draft, and thinking about how pretty you were," he said it so casually as if that wasn't the most traumatic moment of her life.

Aaron's expression shifted to a mix of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Must be tough, huh? Being good enough to get all that attention but not quite good enough to make it." Her heart sank, and she felt a surge of anger, "excuse me?" He shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the impact of his words. "I mean, it's gotta sting a little, right? All that hype and then... nothing. That's some deep shit."

She already knows that. She lived through the humiliation

Angie stood up from her spot on the bed, her eyes flashing with anger, "You need to leave." "What? Angie, come on. I didn't mean it like that." "I don't care how you meant it. Get out."

Aaron stood up, confusion and annoyance on his face. "Fine. Whatever. I was just being honest." "Get out!" she yelled, pointing to the door.

He left without another word, the door slamming behind him.

A dramatic exit for a man who had just unburied a feeling that she had spent a long time trying to cover up.

Angie stood in the middle of the room for a moment, her chest heaving with emotion as the heels of her palms dug into her eyes to stop the stinging of tears. She felt tears prick at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

Not for someone like him.

★★★★

And take me as I come, or I'll take me at all Gonna let you down, gonna lead you lost

Angie remembers every single second and feeling of the moment she got called up to the league.

The feeling of sitting next to her roommate, the two of them working on their sports management presentation as her phone began to ring in her jeans pocket.

She remembers the furrowing of her brows as she looks down at the random number on her screen.

The shakiness of her voice as she finally answered the call.

how she had hesitated for a moment before answering, a quiet "Hello?" followed by a "Hi, is this Evangeline Chandler?" a professional-sounding voice asked. "Yes, this is she." "Ms. Chandler, this is Tom Fitzgerald from the New Jersey Devils. We’ve been following your progress and would like to discuss a potential opportunity with our organization. Would you be available to come out and meet with us later this week?"

Angie's heart skipped a beat at the offer, she sat up straight, her eyes wide with disbelief as she elbowed her roommate, "Are you serious?" "Absolutely. We believe you have a lot of potential here and we’d like to see if you’d be a good fit for our team. We’d like to fly you out this Thursday to discuss this in more detail."

Angie was at a loss for words.

She looked at Taylor, who was watching her with a curious expression, clearly sensing something big was happening.

"Um, yes, I can definitely come out. Thank you so much for this opportunity." "Great. Our team will email you the details shortly. We look forward to meeting you, Ms. Chandler." "Thank you. I look forward to it too." Angie hung up the phone, her hands trembling. She turned to Taylor, her face a mixture of shock and excitement as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

she needed to call her parents, to call Wllen and Jim, to speak to everyone who had helped her get to this point in her life

"What is it?" Taylor asked as she ditched the project sitting in front of them.

Angie took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, "That was the New Jersey Devils. They want to fly me out to talk about a potential spot on the team." Taylor's eyes widened, and then a huge grin spread across her face before she flung herself into Angie's arms, "Oh my God, Ange! That's incredible!"

"I know!" Angie practically shouted, the reality of the situation starting to sink in. "I can't believe this is happening!" Taylor pulled back, holding Angie's shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "You deserve this. You've worked so hard, and you're amazing. This is just the beginning."

Angie looked down at her phone, her screen blowing up with texts from Quinn, Luke, and Jack.

Angie felt tears of joy welling up in her eyes, "I don't even know what to say. I'm just... so happy."

She especially remembers how spent the next hour calling her parents, the Hughes', and the coaches she was still in touch with. Angie was finally accomplishing her dreams, and there wasn't a person out there who she wasn't gonna tell, she needed people to know she was truly enough.

★★★★

And darling, I mean well, I won't leave 'til I'm gone I'm the maker of hell, burn every bridge I've known

Amanda Stein, the Devils’ dedicated reporter, had seen many players come and go through the organization. But today was different.

Today, she was sitting down with Evangeline Chandler. The first woman to be seriously considered for a spot on the New Jersey Devil's roster.

The excitement in the air was palpable as she set up her equipment and prepared her notes. Angie, as she preferred to be called, was an extraordinary athlete with an inspiring story.

Angie walked into the room, her nerves carefully masked by a determined smile. She wore a sharp, professional outfit, yet her eyes held a warmth that made her instantly approachable.

Amanda stood up to greet her.

“Hi, Angie. I’m Amanda Stein. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Hi, Amanda. The pleasure is mine,” Angie replied, shaking her hand firmly before taking a seat.

Once they were both settled, Amanda turned on the recorder and smiled reassuringly at Angie. “Let’s just have a conversation. I want to hear your story.” Angie nodded, taking a deep breath. “Sounds good. Where should we start?” Amanda glanced at her notes briefly. “Let’s start with the last few years. I know they’ve been a rollercoaster for you.”

Angie laughed softly, nodding. “That’s an understatement. It’s been quite a journey.” “Can you walk us through it? From the draft disappointment to now?” Angie leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant for a moment as she recalled the past. “Sure. Well, not being drafted was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. I had put everything into preparing for that moment, and when it didn’t happen, it felt like my world had crumbled.”

She paused, collecting her thoughts. “I questioned everything—my abilities, my future, whether or not I even belonged in the sport anymore. But, as time went on, I realized that setbacks don’t define you. It’s how you respond to them that matters.”

Amanda nodded, her pen moving swiftly across her notebook. “How did you respond?” “I threw myself into college hockey,” Angie said. “I wanted to prove to myself that I still had what it took, and I just wanted to play more hockey. I worked harder than ever before, both on and off the ice. I also had an incredible support system—my family, friends, and coaches. Not to mention the girls on the team, they really had been my rocks while I was dealing with the come down from the draft. They never let me give up on myself.”

“And now, here you are, on the verge of potentially making NHL history. How does that feel?” “It feels surreal,” Angie admitted, her eyes lighting up. “But it’s also incredibly motivating. I know I have a lot to prove—not just to the Devils, but to myself and to everyone who’s ever doubted me. I want to show that I deserve this spot, and I’m ready to work harder than ever to make New Jersey proud.”

“What would you say has been the biggest lesson you’ve learned throughout this journey?” Angie thought for a moment. “Resilience. Life is going to knock you down, and sometimes it’s going to knock you down hard. But you have to get back up. You have to keep fighting and be willing to put in the work, no matter how tough it gets.”

Amanda nodded, sensing the passion in Angie’s voice, “What do you hope to achieve if you make the team?” “I hope to inspire others,” Angie said without hesitation. “I want young girls to see that they can achieve anything they set their minds to, regardless of the obstacles. I want to be a role model, not just in how I play, but in how I present myself both on and off the ice.”

Amanda smiled warmly, “You’re already well on your way to doing just that, Angie. Is there anything you’d like to say to the Devils’ fans?” Angie turned to the camera, her expression sincere. “I want to thank everyone for their support. It means the world to me. I promise that I will give everything I have to this team. I’m here to work hard, to learn, and to help bring success to New Jersey. Thank you for believing in me.”

Amanda closed her notebook and turned off the recorder. “Thank you, Angie. That was wonderful.” “Thank you, Amanda. I appreciate the opportunity to share.”

★★★★

And take me as I come, or don't take me at all I'm gonna let you down, I'm gonna lead you lost

The air in the Prudential Center was electric the night of her first game. Fans packed the stands, waving red and black Devils flags and cheering loudly.

Angie Chandler stood in the tunnel, her heart pounding in her chest. Tonight was the night she had dreamed about for years—her first NHL game.

And it wasn't just any game; it was against the New York Rangers, the Devils' fierce rivals.

Angie adjusted her helmet, trying to steady her nerves. She glanced over to Jack and Jesper, who smiled at her widely and gave her pats of encouragement on the head. She took a deep breath and skated out onto the ice, the roar of the crowd echoing in her ears as she completed her rookie lap, confidently waving to the crowd as she looked around at the thousands of people in the stands. The spotlight followed her, illuminating her as she took her position at center ice before the rest of the team came out behind her.

The game started with a fast pace, both teams eager to establish dominance.

Angie felt the adrenaline surge through her veins as she skated hard, keeping up with the intense speed of the game. This was unlike any hockey game she had ever played before. Her focus was razor-sharp, her eyes scanning the ice for any opportunity to make a play, to prove herself.

Midway through the first period, Angie found herself in a pivotal moment in the game. Jack passed her the puck from the blue line, and she intercepted it cleanly. She glanced up, seeing an opening. With a burst of speed, she charged towards the Rangers' net, her stick handling the puck with precision. The defensemen closed in on her, but she deked around one, then another, and found herself one-on-one with the goalie.

Time seemed to slow down.

Angie took a quick breath, pulled her stick back, and snapped a shot. The puck sailed past the goalie's glove and into the top corner of the net.

The red light flashed, and the crowd erupted in a deafening cheer. Angie's teammates swarmed her, their faces lit up with excitement.

She had scored her first NHL goal.

Jack slammed her into the board a grin on his face as an excited cheer left his mouth as he hugged her before another teammate slammed into the side of them, and then another, and another, before all of them headed to the bench.

This is what she was meant to be doing with her life, she thought to herself as she came back to reality and looked around at the rowdy crowd. This was worth the fight.

★★★★

Darling, I mean well, I won't leave 'til I'm gone I'm the maker of hell, Burn every bridge I've known

The first season had been a whirlwind.

Many ups and downs, many media dilemmas and challenges, but also so many amazing memories. This was a dream that she wasn't willing to wake up from.

The New Jersey Devils had made it to the playoffs, and though they didn't win the Stanley Cup, Angie’s contributions were undeniable.

The off-season had arrived, bringing a much-needed break which meant in just a few short days she be back in Texas with her parents for a few weeks, then Europe for a short vacation, and then back to Michigan for training.

But for the time being Angie was in New Jersey, giving back to the hockey community for the last time in her rookie season. Today she was at a community event hosted by the Devils, where fans could meet their favourite players, get autographs, and take pictures.

As she stood near a booth, signing autographs and chatting with fans, she noticed a little girl in a Devils jersey standing off to the side, clutching a poster of Angie. The girl looked shy, her eyes wide with admiration as Angie smiled and waved her over.

"Hi there! What's your name?" Angie asked as the girl approached hesitantly. "I'm Lily," the girl replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's nice to meet you, Lily. Would you like me to sign your poster?"

Lily nodded eagerly, handing over the poster and a shiny gold Sharpie, Angie signed it, adding a little heart next to her name. She handed it back to Lily, who beamed with excitement.

"Thank you!" Lily exclaimed, her shyness momentarily forgotten. "You're my favourite player. I want to be just like you when I grow up."

Angie felt a lump form in her throat. She knelt down to be at eye level with Lily, her heart swelling with pride and emotion. "That's wonderful, Lily. Do you play hockey?" Lily nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I'm on a team, and I play forward, just like you. I want to be as good as you someday."

Angie smiled warmly as Lily slipped one of the friendship bracelets on her wrist and handed it over to Angie, "that's amazing. Keep practicing, work hard, and never give up on your dreams." Lily's eyes sparkled with determination. "I will! My mom says you're a trailblazer. What does that mean?"

Angie chuckled softly as she ran her fingers the her hair, "It means that I'm one of the first to do something, and hopefully, it makes it easier for others to follow. I want to show girls like you that you can do anything, even if it seems impossible." Lily nodded, her expression serious. "I'm going to be a trailblazer too, just like you."

Angie felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, she reached out and gently squeezed Lily's hand. "I know you will be, Lily. And I'll be cheering you on every step of the way."

Lily threw her arms around Angie in a spontaneous hug, catching her off guard. Angie hugged her back, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment.

This moment.

This connection made everything worth it—the challenges, the setbacks, the hard work. She had inspired someone, and that was the greatest victory of all.

-

-

-

[literaryvein-reblogs]

homesick

adjective /ˈhōmˌsik/ /ˈhəʊm.sɪk/

experiencing a longing for one's home during a period of absence from it

unhappy because of being away from home for a long period

related words & phrases: abject, be in bits, be out of sorts, bereft, bittersweet, blues, broken, brooding, bruised, careworn, chagrined, cheerlessly, choked up, crestfallen, deflated, dejected, demoralized, depressed, desolate, despondent, disaffected, disappointed, disconsolate, disenchanted, disgruntled, disheartened, disillusioned, dismal, dismayed, displeased, dissatisfied, distraught, distressed, doleful, dour, down, downcast, downhearted, dystopia, forlorn, frustrated, fussy, glum, grieving, grim, gutted, hapless, harrowed, heartbroken, heartsick, heavy-hearted, homesick, hurt, in distress, in pieces, inconsolable, injured, isolated, joyless, lacerated, lachrymose, lonely, lonesome, longing, lovelorn, lovesick, low-spirited, lugubrious, martyred, maudlin, melancholic, miserable, moody, mopey, morose, mournful, nostalgic, pained, pity party, regretful, repine, screwed up, self-pitying, sentimental, shaky, shattered, sick, sick at heart, someone's heart sinks to/into their boots, sorrowful, the doldrums, this vale of tears, traumatized, triggered, unfulfilled, unhappy, unmerry, unpleased, unslakable, unsmiling, upset, vale, wish you had never been born, wistful, woe, wounded, wretched

etymology: Earliest known use is from 1748, in Coll. Hymns from Hymn-book Moravian Brethren: Part III. Homesick is formed within English, by compounding. Etymons: home (noun), sick (adj)

“When you feel homesick,’ he said, ‘just look up. Because the moon is the same wherever you go.” ― Donna Tartt

“All water is off on a journey unless it's in the sea, and it's homesick, and bound to make its way home someday.” — Zora Neale Hurston

“It's a kindness that the mind can go where it wishes.” ― Publius Ovidius Naso

“It'll be spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields…and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?” ― J.R.R. Tolkien

Sources: 1 2 3

[roosteraloha]

hiraeth

Bradley Bradshaw × Reader

wc - approx 2k

warnings - none!! a highly self indulgent fic, mainly fluff with a little angst thrown in.

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

It was a common occurrence for you to fall into a deep slumber whenever you got into bed during the past few months. Work was hectic in the run up to christmas. People were just rude - coworkers and clients alike. This isn't how you imagined this would be how you'd be spending your time, you'd worked tirelessly at college in hopes of landing your dream job, but after several months of endless rejections and failed interviews, you'd managed to land a dead-end job.

At first you were ecstatic, but that initial joy was short-lived.

Your co-workers weren't welcoming to a newcomer, especially so close to the crazed holiday period, and the clients and customers, they just piled on their distaste for things out of your control, as if you had made all of the 'stupid and pointless' company policies. Realistically, it wouldn't have been such a tough adjustment if you had your boyfriend home with you, but life had seemed to be against your happiness this year.

Your loving boyfriend of the past two years was a naval aviator, and earlier in the year, he and his squadron were sent on a new deployment. What started out as a short 3 month deployment, was extended to a six month one. That was followed by another extended deployment. You didn't even get to see Bradley or any squadron members before they left again. They had missed you submitting your final college assignments, you receiving your final grades, they missed all the highlights of your senior year that you were so eagerly anticipating to share with them - Bradley especially. But what hurt the most is that they missed your graduation. Initially, you weren't even going to attend the ceremony, but at the insistence of the dagger squad, you'd planned out your outfit, booked tickets for everyone, to then be faced with no one to celebrate with when it rolled around, and a feeling of disappointment and frustration weighing heavily on your heart. You spent the day drowning your sorrows at the Hard Deck, Penny having taken pity on you, and kept your glass full on the house. You couldn't have cared less, despite how much you viewed Penny as a mother figure in your life.

The one person you wanted, needed, to be here, was somewhere in the middle of the ocean, unreachable.

It had been a major conversation point early on in your relationship with Bradley. Deployments were inevitable, especially if your relationship was going to last. The inconsistent contact would be more frustrating than knowing you are facing radio silence, whether voluntary or mandatory, despite Bradley's insistence you'd regret it once he was deployed. That is what you had naively said when Bradley got his first deployment papers a short six months into your relationship. Those initial six weeks flew by, spending it bonding with the rest of the dagger squad, soon being adopted into their tight knit dynamic. More so, Natasha and Javy dragging you out of your shared home with Bradley every few days, ensuring you ate and looked after yourself - on clear and strict instructions from Bradley.

Having no one this time around? Well, that was worse than you could ever imagined and you now understood why Bradley had been so insistent to talk this over extensively before he left, and why he insisted you'd crave what little contact you could get. Now, it seemed all too easy to give up and leave, like many military partners had done before. But you couldn't do that to Bradley - especially not in the middle of an extended deployment.

At the end of another emotionally and physically demanding shift, you'd decided to skip the tedious task of dinner, and just curl up in your bed, the emptiness you felt, pathetically you had tried to fill with several fluffy blankets, you knew deep down that you only bought more to end up snuggling with Bradley at the end of a long day. The mere thought of how he would teasingly complain at your evergrowing blanket collection was enough to send you sobbing into his pillow. His cologne had long since faded, and the little he had left behind on the dresser had been finished a few months earlier when you had initially kept spraying his pillow and the one hoodie he would always let you steal. He'd often leave it out for you on your bad days, and it was fair to say, you had been wearing it 75% of time he had been gone.

Your eyes and throat burned with overwhelming sadness, your heart ached in a way you never thought possible. This is how you'd imagined it would feel to die from a broken heart, a pain once so incomprehensible you were skeptical of its existence, now was your day to day life - and you still had Bradley in your life, you just hadn't seen him in nine months.

Tonight was far from the first night you'd spent crying yourself to sleep. Winter had just made it so much easier to cry your heart out and harder to drag yourself out of bed in the morning. Where you had once been met with a fresh breakfast shared with Bradley, you now faced an empty and cold house.

The cold wasn't just from the changing seasons, you were barely living - wake up, work, home, sleep and repeat. The once homely feel to your home, had faded the longer he was away.

The incessant beeping of your alarm was your nemesis, groaning you screwed your eyes shut, the tear tracks on your cheeks causing an unpleasant tightness as you yawned. You rolled over to face Bradley's side of the bed, a content smile on your face as you snuggled towards the warmth emitting from next to you. Immediately you froze, your body tense and eyes still screwed shut in fear of who was in your bed, thoughts racing.

Did you forget to lock the doors? What about the window Bradley was insistent you double check due to its temperamental lock? Maybe it was Penny who left you with an extra hot water bottle in case you got cold like she often did? No, this was too warm.

It wouldn't have been the first time you had blacked out and phoned her in the midst of a sob session, desperate for someone who understood your pain, and she would then spend the next sat next to you, ensuring you did actually manage to look after yourself, and not let yourself waste away from your bed.

Furrowing your brows, you took a deep breath and-

Your body reacted faster than your mind could comprehend and catch up. That once faded scent was stronger, almost overwhelming.

Bradley.

Your eyes shot open to be met with his honey brown eyes sparkling in the early winter sun, that streamed through your blinds. You blinked once, twice and when he didn't disappear and actually spoke, you choke on a hoarse sob.

He was home.

You launched yourself on him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, in fear he'd disappear if you didn't hold him tight enough.

His rough and deep morning voice was your favourite and that being the first you heard from him after the exhausting last nine months, was the cherry on top of the most perfect wake up call you could have dreamt of, "Morning babygirl."

When your voice failed you and you sobbed into his bare chest, he rubbed his hand gently up and down your spine, with the exact pressure he knew you craved, to ground you back in the present.

You had often dreamt of a similar situation in the months he had been away, but it always ended with you waking with a start, hope blooming in your chest, only to find your house as empty as it was when you fell asleep.

You were aware that Bradley was talking lowly to you, you could feel the vibration of his voice through your tight embrace. You'd missed the sensation of feeling his rumbling voice while holding him. It was such a small, almost trivial thing to miss, but to you it was everything, something that you swore to never take for granted again.

He nudged you gently, kissing the top of your head once again, trying to prise your head away from its place tucked tightly against his neck. you whined softly, hating to any physical space between your bodies. "Good wake up call?" His teasing tone brought a watery smile to your face. You nodded, managing to press a soft kiss to his lips, "| love you." He reciprocated, "I love you too," running his hand through your hair, helping to further ground you.

A second wave of tears welled in your eyes upon hearing your second alarm, work was beckoning, threatening to burst this joyful bubble you were in. Bradley stretched, sitting up and bringing you up with him. You whimpered, heartbreaking at the thought of having to leave him so soon, "Please...Can't we just stay here a bit longer? I just got you back…"

Bradley's heart broke hearing the utter sadness in your voice, he nodded slowly with a small smile on his face, rubbing his hands down your spine again. "I called you in sick to work already, we just need you to get some breakfast." And as if proving his point, your stomach grumbles lowly.

Nodding along, you shifted away from him to sit up fully.

It was okay. He called you in sick. Wait-

"You knew."

There was nothing else needed. His face full of guilt said it all.

Now, your tone is short and seeping with hurt. "You got home yesterday. You've obviously been to the Hard Deck to see Penny to even know I'd got a job. You've been home almost an entire day, you all have-" Tears spill down your cheeks rapidly, "And you- you never thought I'd want to welcome you back home...”

Your voice trailing off now that the initial anger was over, and now you were left feeling truly hurt.

Bradley was quick to scramble back to your side, realising his mistake. He cupped your cheeks gently in a desperate attempt to gain your full attention, despite your best efforts to pull away, no long craving the comfort his touch and presence provided.

"Hey, hey, hey, baby- l'm so sorry, I just wanted to surprise you.” His brows were furrowed in concern, eyes full of sincere regret. When you eventually stopped fighting his hold so much, he pulled you back onto his lap, still cradling your face between his large, callused hands. "I never, never meant to hurt you. You know that.”

When you didn't reply, instead screwing your eyes shut as more tears ran down your cheeks, Bradley swiped his thumbs under your eyes, wiping them away as quickly as they fell.

Shakily, you exhale sharply and peel your eyes open to meet the epitome of puppy dog eyes in Bradley.

"I am so so sorry." Tears of his own we're now glistening in his eyes. "Phoenix said you'd hate me for this plan- I should've listened. God, I hate I made you this upset." Sniffling, you shift closer, nuzzling your face into his neck, Bradley pressing a soft kiss to your head in response.

"Please don't leave me."

"I’m not going anywhere."

[foragewitch]

Dice roll meanings for divination

ONE Family difficulties are coming.

TWO Look closely at situations, things may not be quite what they seem.

THREE Expect pleasant surprises in the very near future. Your circumstances will change without warning and very soon.

FOUR A setback or some unpleasantness will disappoint you. Expect arguments or a disagreement. An unpleasant surprise.

FIVE A stranger or a surprise brings you happiness. Plans come to fruition. Unexpected information or assistance. A new friendship.

SIX Misfortune and loss. A friend may ask a favour of you.

SEVEN You become the victim of gossip or scandal. Possible difficulties in business or money trouble. You will be presented with a difficult matter to solve. A new romance.

EIGHT Take it slow. Do not act in haste or you may regret it. Recklessness may lead to difficulty or distress. A gift of clothing will be received.

NINE Success in love and reconciliations. A marriage or union with implications for you. A gambling win.

TEN This is a time of birth and new beginnings. Success is about to come your way in career and money matters. A legal action will involve you.

ELEVEN Short-term illness gives you some grief. A parting causes you sorrow. A trip for entertainment. A death may concern you.

TWELVE A message of importance will soon arrive, but seek advice if you are dealing with legal documents. A large sum of money to be received.

THIRTEEN A period of unhappiness. Disappointment or misery if you pursue current situation. Do not give in to self-pity or it will cause more problems.

FOURTEEN New friends bring excitement into your life. You will receive unexpected assistance from someone close. A new love or admirer.

FIFTEEN Follow your intuition about false friends. Do not be drawn into trouble by others. Begin no new projects for a few days.

SIXTEEN A short trip turns out to be both fun and profitable.

SEVENTEEN A change in plans may soon be necessary. Other people may have good advice to give, even strangers. Dealings with a person or persons from afar. Dealings with or on water.

EIGHTEEN Success, a wish will be obtained. You can expect happiness, financial success and a rise in status.

NINETEEN Listen closely to advice given to you in the near future.

TWENTY You are right where you're supposed to be.

[itadores]

call / response.

note: loosely based off that scene from the sandman of morpheus and calliope (loosely because i have not watched the show LOL)

word count: approx. 1k

pairing: gojo satoru x gender neutral reader

tags: immortals au, kidnapping (gojo’s kidnapped), light angst but a hopeful ending

satoru would find the room adequate, nice even, if not for the circumstances that led to him being confined within its walls. even now, he cannot comprehend how this came to be, how he— one of the strongest entities there is to exist— fell victim to a mere mortal, trapped like prey, like an animal. it is unfathomable, but nonetheless, it is the truth.

he was ridden of the source of his powers upon capture, right before he was forced into and locked within the room he currently resides in. satoru cannot be sure of the location of his precious belongings, but he assumes that the mortal keeping him captive is in possession of them. it fills satoru with a simmering anger- the idea that a mortal could be so foolhardy to believe that they could wield his items. oh, how he wishes he could exact revenge.

but revenge will have to wait, for satoru cannot even muster enough power to break free of the walls that keep him confined, of the invisible chains that hold him captive. it is humiliating, that an immortal as old and as powerful as satoru has been rendered to a state as pitiful as his current one. he is not weak- satoru is never weak-, but he has been weakened, significantly with the absence his tools.

there are a number of individuals that satoru believes would come to his aid if he asked. suguru, his closest friend. shoko. perhaps, even kento, if he knew how dire the situation was. however, satoru is unable to reach any of them, despite his many attempts to. at this point, he would even welcome the old god gakuganji if it meant out of this prison.

there is one last resort, one being that satoru has not called upon yet- has not even allowed himself to consider as an option for more than a few brief moments before moving on to the next thought-, despite his years spent in captivity. they would not respond, he thinks, not after their poor parting. his lips dip into a frown as he recollects. their last meeting was not a pleasant one, not in the slightest.

after many years of rumination, satoru has come to the realization that he is partially- if not mostly- at fault for that. when sorrow had befallen on the pair, satoru became cold, isolating himself from everyone, including his love. he rejected the comfort they offered, unable to face them when all he was reminded of was the loss they shared. he spurned them away again, and a quarrel erupted between the two.

it was a terrible, terrible encounter of barbed words and verbal lashings meant to leave everlasting wounds. satoru does not know how long the quarrel lasted- it could have been a few minutes or it could have been a millennia-, but it ended with him disappearing in a flash of purple. the last thing he recalls seeing before he transported himself away was his lover’s face, tear-stained and angry. he will never forget- the image is seared into his mind for all of eternity. a reminder of his greatest regret.

and now, satoru must decide if he is willing to face that, face you.

truthfully, satoru does not even know if you would even come if he attempted to summon you. the wards within this room could prove to be too powerful or you could simply ignore him. the latter thought wounds satoru more than he would ever be willing to admit.

but, he will never know if he does not try.

the disappointment of you not showing will not kill satoru- he is an immortal, after all-, but it will cause his heart unimaginable ache- the knowledge that you are well and truly done with him.

standing in a corner of the room that acts as his prison, satoru stares out one of the windows, contemplating. his blue hues gaze out the glass panes, looking but not seeing what lies beyond them. should he or should he not, satoru’s mind wars. eventually, satoru comes to a decision.

his glossy lips part, the pink of his tongue revealed as he quietly, speaking no louder than the whisp of a whisper, says your name.

for an extraordinarily long moment, nothing happens. satoru’s hopeful heart sinks. his confident frame sags, his chin tucking into his chest. he was a fool to think—

satoru flinches by the sudden presence of another in the room. nobody besides that imbecile of a mortal has entered the room before, but satoru can already tell it is not them. if not them, then …

could it be?

in his heart, satoru already knows the answer to his unspoken question- able to recognize your life signature like it’s a part of him, an extension of himself-, but he does not dare to hope until he turns his head away from the window. satoru’s crystalline eyes falls onto you, and his breath momentarily stops.

you’re here. across the length of the room, you stand, looking as ethereal as ever, staring at satoru with a curious twinkle in your gaze. you’re just as beautiful as he remembers, perhaps even more so.

“you came,” he finally says, breaking the silence. satoru attempts to smother it, but a hint of disbelief slips into his voice, which does not go unnoticed by you.

you raise a brow at him. taking confident yet careful steps, you make your way closer to satoru. your eyes stay on his face, gauging his reaction as you approach nearer.

you stop in front of him and tilt your head slightly to the side, scrutinizing his expression. satoru does not feel uncomfortable beneath your critical examination, he has been subject to those calculating eyes of yours too many times to count to find discomfort in the action. satoru may be the one to have been blessed with the gift of six eyes, but you are the one whose gaze feels all-seeing. all-knowing.

after you, presumably, find what you’re searching for, the pinch between your brows disappears. the corner of your lips curls in a way that makes satoru’s heart thump loudly in the cavern of his chest.

“you called,” you simply say, and satoru knows that no matter how poorly your last meeting went, you still harbor some semblance of love for him.

if you did not, you would not be here.

[waffles-are-nice]

IVANTILL FIC FOR TILLS BIRTHDAY ALTHOUGH ITS A DAY LATE

"Happy birthday!" Ivan's voice rang out with an unusual surge of joy, surpassing his typical demeanor. It was a rare sight indeed to witness Ivan express such heightened emotions. He leaned down, directing his gaze towards Till, who found himself confined in restraints as a consequence of his recent behavior.

From his bag, Ivan carefully retrieved a small box, covertly smuggled in for this moment. Extending his free-hand toward the restraining device securing Till's mouth, he delicately removed it, granting him the freedom to speak.

“I understand you might be too tired to speak right now, and that's okay," Ivan's voice carried a tinge of solemnity, despite the lingering happiness.

Gently unveiling the box, Ivan revealed a small cake nestled inside. Alongside the cake, a spoon was thoughtfully taped to the box. Carefully, he employed the small spoon to scoop a portion of the delectable treat.

Leaning closer to Till, Ivan positioned the spoon in front of his mouth, patiently waiting for him to take a bite of the cake. Though the prospect seemed unlikely, Ivan's determination to make the gesture remained unwavering.

Seated in stillness, Till gazed up at Ivan, his eyes filled with an almost resentful glare. Ivan couldn't fathom the reason behind Till's animosity; as far as he knew, he had done nothing to warrant such a reaction.

Removing the spoon from Till's proximity, Ivan regarded him with a mixture of compassion and sorrow, his expression reflecting the pity he felt for the strained situation.

"Why are you even here? I don't want you around," Till's voice was hushed but laced with unmistakable anger, his eyes now averted, avoiding any direct contact with Ivan.

"Why not? Are you feeling lonely on your birthday while being confined in restraints? Are you disappointed because I'm not Mizi?"

"Why is it always you? You constantly show up out of nowhere. Can't you understand that I don't like you?" Till's voice grew louder as he shifted uncomfortably against the restraints.

"Alright, I simply wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I thought you might appreciate my presence for once. If I'm not Mizi, then it seems you don't care." Ivan stood up, carefully placing the cake and spoon next to Till, before turning around and departing.

Amidst an atmosphere of silence and remorse, Till remained seated, unable to utter another word. He hadn't intended to say such hurtful things; all he had desired was for Mizi to acknowledge him, especially on his birthday.

And now, he found himself alone, left only with a small cake and a sea of regrets.

[thatconfusedanon]

Pull for Whole, perhaps?

Say less!

*Altair collects the card he hand from the previous person and reshuffles... it takes a couple times before multiple cards fell out and When Altair went to collect them the rest of the cards fell outta his hands. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.*

Whoops... how clumsy- let's try this again, yeah?

*Altair collects the cards and tries again with a chuckle this time one card pops out and lands face up. Five of Cups.*

Ohhhh kayyyy

*He sets aside the deck and picks up the card.*

Ah he got himself Five of Cups. This card generally means dejection, disappointment, and sorrow over past events.

....There is some dwelling in the past as well as feelings of self pity and regret. Inability to let go of things in the past. High chance of missing out on new positive possibilities that the future can bring?

...

Huh.

[thelady-needed-a-qouteblog]

“Melancholy is not rage or bitterness, it is a noble species of sadness that arises when we are open to the fact that life is inherently difficult for everyone and that suffering and disappointment are at the heart of human experience.

Melancholy links pain with wisdom and beauty. It springs from a rightful awareness of the tragic structure of every life. We can, in melancholy states, understand without fury or sentimentality, that no one truly understands anyone else, that loneliness is universal and that every life has its full measure of shame and sorrow. The melancholy know that many of the things we most want are in tragic conflict: to feel secure, and yet to be free; to have money and yet not to have to be beholden to others. To be in close knit communities and yet not to be stifled by the expectations and demands of society. To travel and explore the world and yet to put down deep roots. To fulfil the demands of our appetites for food, exploration and sloth – and yet stay thin, sober, faithful and fit.

The wisdom of the melancholy attitude (as opposed to the bitter or angry one) lies in the understanding that we have not been singled out, that our suffering belongs to humanity in general. Melancholy is marked by an impersonal take on suffering. It is filled with pity for the human condition.

There are melancholy landscapes and melancholy pieces of music, melancholy poems and melancholy times of day. In them, we find echoes of our own griefs, returned back to us without some of the personal associations that, when they first struck us, made them particularly agonising.

The more melancholy a culture can be, the less its individual members need to be persecuted by their own failures, lost illusions and regrets.

Melancholy - when it can be shared - is the beginning of friendship.”

—Alain de Botton, www.alaindebotton.com

[wolint]

REGRET!

REGRET

2 Corinthians 7:10

 

Regret is the feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened, done or undone, and experienced with a wish that it had been different. It’s looking back with dissatisfaction, longing, grief, and sorrow that leads to mourning because of the loss of joy and peace.

Surely, regret is possibly the heaviest load we all carry in life.

David committed adultery with Bathsheba and decided to kill her husband so that he could cover his sin in 2 Samuel 11:1-15. He was doing what we are all tempted to do when we sin, making excuses and justifying our actions.

We may not all commit adultery, but sin is sin, and it has a similar effect on us until we admit, confess, and repent of it, we won’t not be able to worship God with a pure heart or a clean conscience.

How many times have we done or said something we regretted immediately? Oftentimes, our impulses lead us to do or say things without thinking them through, and only when such things are done, do we realise we shouldn’t have said or done them in the first place.

Regrets usually comes from the pursuit of other things besides God. Nothing brings lasting happiness, especially when gained at the cost of relationships with God and the people in your life.

Impulse control is never easy. All of us struggle with overcoming sinful impulses. James 1:14 says part of the human condition is to feel impulses, and part of the Christian life is to control them, but these impulses lead into actions and speeches that we sometimes regret.

One of the most tragic events in the bible is the despair of Judas in Matthew 27:3-10. When Judas discovered that the consequences of his actions to betray Jesus could not be changed, he allowed his regret to push him to self-destruct instead of repentance.

As believers, we must always remember that there is forgiveness and a second chance in Christ, and therefore should not wallow in regret that may lead us to misery that leads to destruction.

Regret is a state of the heart that can ruin our lives, it can derail our faith, and cause us to miss out on some powerful Christian experience.

Have your regrets in life caused you to give up because you couldn’t get past those things that you feel regret over?

It may be hard to get over an issue, but we must learn to emulate the prodigal son in Luke 15:18, in saying, “I will go home to my father and say, “Father, I have sinned against both heaven and you.” The Lord forgives us when we come to Him in faith. Our past is forgotten to him, and He gives us a fresh start, but we may still have to live with the consequences of some of our actions because they cannot be retracted.

God can restore us to healing brought on by regret, regret caused by sin can only be cleansed from a heartfelt confession and repentance says Psalm 51:1-15.

God uses our repentance, brokenness, and remorse to bring true repentance and change in us as seen in Ezekiel 6:8-11.

Godly regrets produce repentance that leads to salvation and brings no regret in the end, but worldly grief produces only death.

We have an enemy who loves to remind us of our sins and failures and to keep the regret fresh on our minds, see Revelation 20:10. He would have us dwell on our sins or wallow in regret and self-pity rather than letting them go.

David confessed his sin against the Lord in 2 Samuel 12:13, as we should and know that God wants us to understand that the consequences of sin always include deep regret.

Regrets are exercises in futility and counter-productive to joy and peace. Don't allow regret to stand you up!

PRAYER: Oh, Lord, let my regrets always draw me closer to you. Take my burdens from me and restore me no matter what I’ve done, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT. PRAYER MIN.

[thechildrendontlaugh]

A Year In Review: Earthquake

I have hated nearly every moment I have spent living here in San Francisco. It has been a terrible plague upon my life which has rendered me less of myself each day. No amount of preparation could have bolstered me strong enough to be here. I am filled with an inescapable regret. How could I have been so wrong about this part of the path?

It has taken so much from me…and I feel as though I am left with nothing in return. With whole chasms of sorrow, and grief. An endless pit of disappointment. A blighted city that has sunk into a cavern. Suffocating me. And my only thought is: I did this to myself.

I have been naïve. I have been hopeful. I just want my life to look different than it has—I want it to be different. I want to know I am capable of making that change. Of returning back to me. Of re-claiming me. It has take so much of my fire. So much of my spirit. I have had to claw at myself, trembling. And I can’t say any of it has been worth it. The impact I have made is nothing in comparison to the devastation I have felt. The loneliness I have experienced. A betrayal of hope. Relief has been teasingly fleeting. Why have I come here in the first place? What work did I think I could do, what information I could glean—steal, and take back. A loss of a feeling of community, means not feeling safe, means remaining stagnant. I don’t know what to do with this grief. I don’t know where to set it down, or what to pick up in its place. This is the season where I should feel my most powerful, my most sure. And I feel scared, and small, and lonely. This path has grown murkier, when it should have become more clear. My trust, shakier. When my faith in myself, should be at its greatest. I hate where I live, I hate who I live with. I hate the people I attract, and the ones who leave me behind. I do not have the strength to keep moving forward. To be dragged ahead as time soldiers on.

Last night, I could not sleep. So I allowed my mind to wander, thinking of the peace an aneurysm might grant me. How I would not have to think, would not have to make any decisions. Would not have to be disappointed. Would not have to pathetically throw my fists at fate, demanding something more. That its cruelty. It’s randomization, would strike for a final time, having the last breath in this pitiful song.

What’s my motivation? What’s my purpose? Why am I here? Is it compelling enough?

What of happily ever after?

This is a start. In writing, I am able to notice that something in me, has dislodged. Good. A seismic shift to toss my life upside down. Where I no longer am trying to take calculated risks. I have dreamt so much of fire, how could I possibly attempt to mistake myself as a dead thing.

I’ve bit my tongue too long. I will open my mouth, and let the blood spill out.

[climeo]

“Melancholy is not rage or bitterness, it is a noble species of sadness that arises when we are open to the fact that life is inherently difficult for everyone and that suffering and disappointment are at the heart of human experience. Melancholy links pain with wisdom and beauty. It springs from a rightful awareness of the tragic structure of every life. We can, in melancholy states, understand without fury or sentimentality, that no one truly understands anyone else, that loneliness is universal and that every life has its full measure of shame and sorrow. The melancholy know that many of the things we most want are in tragic conflict: to feel secure, and yet to be free; to have money and yet not to have to be beholden to others. To be in close knit communities and yet not to be stifled by the expectations and demands of society. To travel and explore the world and yet to put down deep roots. To fulfill the demands of our appetites for food, exploration and sloth – and yet stay thin, sober, faithful and fit. The wisdom of the melancholy attitude (as opposed to the bitter or angry one) lies in the understanding that we have not been singled out, that our suffering belongs to humanity in general. Melancholy is marked by an impersonal take on suffering. It is filled with pity for the human condition. There are melancholy landscapes and melancholy pieces of music, melancholy poems and melancholy times of day. In them, we find echoes of our own griefs, returned back to us without some of the personal associations that, when they first struck us, made them particularly agonizing. The more melancholy a culture can be, the less its individual members need to be persecuted by their own failures, lost illusions and regrets. Melancholy - when it can be shared - is the beginning of friendship.” - Alain de Botton

[quill-pen]

Miscellaneous Scrooge-related Ideas (For Fun!)

Idea list

Helena idea list

Name ideas

Brain revelations (My brain like to work on ideas in the background and spring them on me out of the blue.):

Scrooge has so much regret and it makes my heart hurt

How the Sullivans became Sullivans

Yeah, this is how Marley eats it

Hear me out: SEXY. VICTORIAN. LINGERIE. (Sorta)

Ebenezer teaches Bess to ice-skate

Make-up play in the bedroom for the Wolves

Bryant is just... an insane creep-o

My brain picks the most inopportune times to remind me of the soul-crushing things

The Urchins are kinda everybody's kids

Ebenezer signs his name on everything that belongs to him--EVERYTHING NSFW

KISSING IN THE RAIN?! SFW

Addie a journalist SFW

Sims AU: Not sundresses--moondresses SFW

Ebeness thoughts (Cute ideas with my OC and Scrooge):

The Big Bad Wolf SFW

Scrooge and first-time drunk reader/Bess SFW

Still Scrooge and drunk Bess SFW

Their names work so well together SFW

Bess is worthwhile as far as Eb is concerned SFW

Warmth pre-Bess and post-Bess SFW

Bess literally falling in love with Ebenezer SFW

Ebenezer playing the piano for Bess SFW

They admire each other in their sleep often SFW

She belongs with him SFW

So saucy! NSFW-ish

Just domestic sweetness SFW

Ebeness flower vibes SFW

Their love in a nutshell SFW

You're too precious SFW

Love and Moonlight SFW

Equal partnership SFW

Thoughts on fashion SFW ft. Oliver for comparison

The dichotomy of Bess SFW

Toddie thoughts (Cute ideas with my OC and Jenkins):

Toddie flower vibes SFW

Elnie thoughts (Cute ideas with my OC couple):

Nothing will part them SFW

Characters Quotes:

Bess ~ People can change

Bess ~ You're too charming

Ebenezer and Bess ~ Pity and sorrow

Ebenezer ~ My heart--forever yours

Bess ~ Where I belong

Ebeness ~ A forever kinda thing

Bess ~ So you wanna have more sons

Bess ~ Perpetually falling in love

Bess and Ebenezer ~ Not hard

Bess and Ebenezer ~ Dat ASS

Ebenezer ~ All moons have craters

Ebeness ~ All of you

Ebenezer ~ You don't have to earn it

Ebenezer ~ Moonlight

Character Conversations:

Lottie vs. Bess 1

Lottie vs. Bess 2

Lottie vs. Bess 3

Eb just can't stay annoyed with her

The grapevine never disappoints

Eb kisses Bess A LOT

Scrooge is late to the office A LOT

Ebenezer can't tell Bess 'no'--thus... ANIMALS

Immediate cuddles with wifey after a long day

Spontaneous affection

Drunk Bess

Mine--Yours

Puns

Move it or lose it

Late night conversations

You're not old

Timeless!Bess gets all prettied up and Connie knows what's up

Adonis indulges Bess' love of puns

A Timeless family game night

Character/Couple inspirations:

Ebeness inspirations

Toddie inspirations