#i never know if ive proofread something enough I'm so sorry

[headphonegrl]

“Here you go.” It’s late in the morning on a Sunday, and the sun is pouring through the window, casting honey-coloured light all over the living room. Jude’s half-asleep with his cheek squished against the cushion his mum bought him for a housewarming present, and the sudden sound of your voice startles him into full consciousness; all he’s heard for the last hour is the lull of characters speaking on the show he’s watching and that cheesy laugh track played on all nineties sitcoms alike. 

“What?” His words are half verbal and half a content hum through his nose. One of his eyes is closed and the other is squinting, trying to make out where you’re sitting in front of his coffee table with your legs tucked under yourself.  

“Put your arm out.” You shuffle towards him, your fuzzy socks gliding against the wooden floor. Months have passed of you trying to convince him to buy a rug, but still the space remains bare and shiny due to his indecisiveness. 

Jude pokes his arm out from between the blankets he’s had bunched up by his chin. Despite the sky outside being a stretch of clear baby blue, he’s dramatically complained all morning about his risk of getting hypothermia. There’s a mug of tea on the floor next to the foot of the sofa which you had made him earlier, and it sits there lukewarm because he’s afraid that once he moves all the heat will escape in one go. “It’s cold.”

“Here.” You stretch a bracelet over the back of his hand and onto his wrist; tiny blue and green beads placed perfectly in patterns of three, with a little yellow heart that you fiddle with so it sits flat against his skin. Goosebumps appear on his forearm and you try and rub them away with your palms, which are still warm from the little hot water bottle you’ve had sitting in your lap, the one Jude’s grandma had bought you for Christmas.

“You made it?” His voice is still hoarse from rest and he tries to clear his throat with a little cough, and then another when that one fails. Part of him is mad at himself now, he’s had his eyes shut all this time and missed the image of you adorably poking your tongue out in concentration. 

“It’s stupid.” You scrunch your nose up, murmuring something about how you made some over cocktails with your friends one night and bought a kit for yourself because you thought it was fun. A little patch of golden light is illuminating one side of your face and if his phone wasn’t sitting in the other room on his bedside table, Jude would be a very annoying boyfriend and insist on taking a photo. 

“No way.” The idea of you being paired with the word ‘stupid’ seems completely morally wrong, like two things that shouldn't exist in the same universe. It’s a firm belief of his that you should only be associated with all things sweet and kind, like old fifties love songs with trumpets in the back or those little flowers that appear at the beginning of spring after an awful winter.

“You don’t have to wear it.” You twiddle the beads around on the stretchy elastic, before moving your fingertips to trace the lines on his palms; the same thing you do when you’re sitting next to each other at dinner or on the train. “You can take it off later.”

“I’m not taking it off!” Jude snatches his hand away from where you’ve been holding it, and you let out a wheeze of laughter that sends a fuzzy rush of love to his heart. A feeling that he wishes he could catch mid-air and bottle up for when he’s far away and misses you so much that his chest aches like he’s pulled a muscle. 

“Okay.” You smile down at where you’re picking at a loose thread on the blanket, curling it around your finger over and over again. “If you’re sure.”

“Are you kidding?” To him, you must be. It’s already been decided: He’ll wear it to sleep and in the shower. He’ll tuck it under his sleeve so he doesn’t have to take it off during training. It’ll hang on his hook in the changing rooms during a big game like a little good luck charm. If it slides above his wrist, he’ll search frantically under the hem of his sleeves in fear he’s lost it. He’ll wear it even when all the colour rubs off the beads and they’re left white. He’ll keep it until it inevitably snaps and you have to make a new one, exactly the same. “It’s my most prized possession.”

[leclerc-hs]

tachycardia pt.2 - cl16

pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.

“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 

“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 

“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 

She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”

You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”

Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”

“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.

“What does he look like?”

“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.

She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”

You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”

You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”

-

You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?

Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.

“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”

“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.

“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”

Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  

“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”

In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.

“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 

“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”

Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”

The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”

You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  

“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”

-

Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.

“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 

“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 

“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.

“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.

“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.

“Smell like what?” 

As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.

With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.

Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.

Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.

“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”

His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”

His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.

Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.

“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.

With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.

“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.

Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.

His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 

“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.

You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.

He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.

“See you there, mon lapin.”

[lookingformoondrop]

+ Yandere Andy (for my previous request for suggestive themes with a fem reader and him :33)

Yandere!Andrew Graves x f!reader - Drabble thing

TW: TOXIC ANDY, Yandere themes, obsession, possession, manipulative Andy, suggestive themes, foul language, Andy can't keep his hands to himself, threats & intimidation, Andy calls Reader dumb bunny, not proofread.

♥︎Notes: I think out of all the yandere content ive ever written, this is the most toxic. Please readers, if your irl relationship mirrors any of this behavior, LEAVE THEM. Andy is extremely toxic, and if given the chancs hed lock up his bunny for only him to see. I dont condon any of this behavior, but i support Andrew's rights and wrongs. Hope this meets your expectations <3.♥︎

When dating Andy, there are certain types of rules you must follow.

They're silent rules, sure, never spoken outloud, but you've been with Andy long enough to know that if you break them... there are consequences.

♡

Rule No. 1 : Never dare speak to another man

You can still remember this rule vividly.

It was sometime in April, and you had practically begged Andy to drive you to the mall for new spring dresses.

When he finally agreed, you both drove to the mall and walked around for an hour, just window shopping all the sweet spring deals.

You found a lovely dress and went to try it on. Unfortunately, you realized the size was too small, so you asked Andy to browse the store for something bigger.

This is when the incident happened...

When you finally finished changing, you walked out of the clothing booth with a couple of other items and one adorable shirt that lacked a price.

You searched for a store employee and spotted a young man.

"Excuse me, but is there any way you can find the price of this shirt? I can't seem to find it," you handed the shirt to the employee, and his cheeks turned a dusted pink

"W- Well sure. I can just ask my co-worker to-"

"Fuck off."

You jumped at the cold voice beside you and noticed a very pissed off Andrew. His hand was suddenly on your hip, squeezing your flesh very aggressively.

"I- I'm sorry, sir, but I was talking to this young lady, not you," the young worker looked nervous.

But Andrew was having none of it, "fuck off before I forcibly make you." His eyes narrowed on the man, as he pushed you against his chest.

The employee retreated for the employee back door, his tail practically in between his legs, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded.

You pushed at Andy's chest, "Andrew what the fuck?! He wasn't doing anything wrong, he was literally just helping me find the price tag for some-"

"Do you like pissing me off? I disappeared for not even 5 minutes, and you're letting men drool over you? "

His grip on your hip got tighter, assuring that it would leave a mark for later.

At a loss of words, Andrew leaned in and whispered into your ear,

"You're making me sad, Y/N... Do you honestly want another man?"

His voice sent shivers down your spine, making that spot between your legs ache, and that chilling feel graze your skin with goosebumps.

"Andrew, I don't want anyone else! Please don't be sad, I'm sorry for misleading you," Your eyes got glossy from the guilt that weighed down on you.

He sighed, disappointed. He gripped your wrist, using the hand that was on your hip to rip the clothes you had out of your hand and onto a random display table.

"You're not a very good girlfriend. But I love you anyway."

He walked towards the exit, caressing your hand while he did.

You quickly leaned that Andrew was not going to tolerate any sort of social interaction with other men, and if you broke this rule, he'd be very, very disappointed in you. Simple as that.

♡

Rule No. 2 : Where you're going, what you're doing, who you're with, and why is all of Andy's business.

A year into your relationship, you decided to take a spontaneous girls trip with your friends to a different state.

You'd only be gone for a couple of days, and since Andrew was always busy working, you figured that he wouldn't mind.

Thinking this, you texted Andrew.

Andy

I'm sorry I haven't texted you. How was your day? **

You

It was good! I'm actually packing right now for a trip. **

Andy

.... **

Andy

What trip? **

You

A girls' trip. I figured since you're busy all the time, I could take this weekend to vacation! **

Andy

.... Where will you be going? **

You

My friends cabin**

Andy

Who will you be going with?**

You

My friends? **

Andy

Whose Cabin? Which friends? Whats their number? How can I contact them? How many nights are you staying? What's the wi-fi situation like? How far away, is it? What's the exact location? Who knows about this trip? When will you be coming back? Will there be any men there? Is it just girls? Will you be changing in front of them? Will you be sleeping separately? Whose car are you taking? How will you get there? By what transportation? Do your friends have boyfriends? Are there any wild animals?**

You

I... Andrew, how could I answer all these questions? I dont... I dont know.**

Andy

Then you shouldn't be going. **

Andy

It's in a location I've never been to nor seen before. So many things can happen to you, my dummy bunny. It may be a cabin, but I know you can't handle being alone for so long. Save me the trouble, Y/N, you're not going. **

Andy

I'm only looking out for you. You're the love of my life. How could i possibly live with myself if something happened to you? Y/N, you're the air that I breathe, the food i consume, the blood i need to pump my heart. Are you trying to run away from me? **

You

No! Andy I swear I'm not! I won't go if it makes you uncomfortable. I just thought... **

Andy

You don't think many things through, dummy. You're such a headache sometimes. **

Andy

So, what's for dinner? I'm hungry. *

♡

Rule No. 3 : You belong to Andy, and only Andy.

"Hey Andy! Guess what I found?!" You walked up to Andy who was lounging on the coach watching some shitty news.

"What's that, Y/N?" He lazily turned his head towards you.

In your hand was an old photograph of you and an old prom date, taken long before you ever met Andrew.

You were cleaning your bedroom and found a couple of old boxes underneath your bed. Once of which, held many old memories of your youth.

"It's all the prom pictures my mom took of me! Don't I look cute?" You leaned your upper body over the coach back and showed Andy the dusty photos.

You expected a snort, a grin, maybe some mockery for your cheesy dress but instead Andrew tensed up his jaw, his eyes narrowing.

He grabbed the photos from your hand and slowly looked through them.

"You are very pretty, Y/N...." his hand squeezed the photos, to the point of crinkling them.

"Andrew, the photos are being!-"

Suddenly Andrew stood up and quickly crossed the distance between you two, letting the photos be dropped to the floor.

You gasped as Andrew smashed his lips against yours.

He grabbed onto your face, pressing his body into yours.

His lips were warm and slightly chapped, the brief smell of mint and cigarettes overpowering your head.

He broke the kiss, a strange hunger dancing in his eyes as he looked at you.

"You're so beautiful... You're so beautiful being mine, and mine alone. Mine, mine, mine, and mine, until the world comes crashing and burning. " He grinned at you, a dark shadow crossing his face.

"Andrew! I- I know im yours, but the photos are being stepped on-" You tried protesting, but instead, you felt Andrew kiss you again, this time going deeper. His hand squeezed your cheeks, attempting to make your jaw open, in a way asking for entrance.

You couldn't help but open your mouth wider, a victim to the rose colored glasses he always placed on you.

Your eyes closed, while Andrews' opened.

He stared at you with a strange intensity.

You, of course, could never hear his thoughts, but if his words were spoken outloud he would scream how much he wanted to rip that prom date to shreds.

Watch him bleed out of your hardwood floors until it stained from that fuckers punishment.

You belonged to HIM.

You were HIS.

And darling, he would go to heaven and drag you back to hell with him if he had to.

He broke the kiss and squeezed you into a hug,

"Promise you wont ever leave me, okay?" Andrew rested his head on your shoulder. You breathed heavily, wiping the saliva from your chin.

You nodded in a daze, the ache between your legs overpowering any kind of hesitancy you had.

Andrew smiled into your neck, reaching his hands under your ass to prop you up around his waist.

"Come on... I want to continue this in the bedroom. I want to see more of you..." He said in just above a whisper.

"Only you..."

Thank you for the ask (and patience)!<3

[hydrasra]

"I am no god."

SYNOPSIS: keep on insisting that you're no god, maybe they'll understand? unless proven otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: ooc moment duh. NOT BETA NOR PROOFREAD (and probably never will). reader has no gender, matey. gold blood au, don't forget about that. part 3 of NOT FROM THIS WORLD. it's 1am and I should sleep early to fix my sleep schedule but my brain said, "fuck no." probably swearing here and there (asra says after swearing)

TAGGING: @sunsethw4 @neverlandlostchild @code-roevember

iv. THE WIND KNOWS

"yo, tao!" xinyan yelled as soon as she slammed opened the door of the wangsheng funeral parlor while followed by a quiet and smiling yunjin, startling meng, who was on his way to put the documents in his arms down on the director's office and earning a glare from the ferrylady.

zhongli and hu tao were the only one unfazed as they both finished their cup of tea before turning their attention to the two that walked in, "afternoon, how many I help you?"

that earned a frown from her friend, "hey, what's with you being so fo-"

"afternoon to you too, hu tao, mr zhongli and you as well mr meng and ferrylady," yunjin greeted, and was acknowledged by the two before they went on with their work, then hurried over to hu tao and pulling xinyan along, "we came here to ask you something, director."

the only answer she received was a tilt of the head from hu tao and a curious look on her face, "was there a funeral for the impostor?"

zhongli, who was busy pouring himself another cup of tea suddenly stopped and put the teapot down, attention now on yunjin, making her a little uncomfortable though she hid it well, "what impostor?" he asked, watching as she was about to talk but got cut off by xinyan.

"you know, the one that looks like our creator and is said to be claiming to be them according to the qixing," xinyan casually said before leaning on on the director of the yun-han opera troupe who didn't seem to mind.

"I'm sorry, what?!" hu tao gasped, leaning towards her friends with her eyes wide open.

xinyan and yunjin both stayed quiet for a few seconds, staring at her before their gaze went over to zhongli who stared right back, shock written on his normally calm face.

"'m assuming there wasn't."

a few days were now gone in the blink of an eye.

how quickly time flies.

walking through the corridors of the quiet palace with only their footsteps being heard was eerily disturbing to the tianquan and her three (3) most trusted secretaries, despite having the lights seeping in through the curtains of the windows.

however, they kept on walking forward, eager to reach a bedroom.

and once in front of the bedroom they were looking for, ningguang took a deep breath to calm her nerves, her secretaries doing the same, composing themselves before the tianquan knocked on the bedroom doors.

"come in," a voice they are familiar with, that, unfortunately, held no warmth replied.

now liyue's tianquan was hesitant.

seeing this, baixiao, after sending looks of uncertainty at baishi and baiwen, immediately opened the door, slowly, to make ningguang understand that there was no use in being hesitant.

and it helped her in recollecting her thoughts and composure.

once the doors were opened just enough to let the four of them in, they all simultaneously took a step inside and looked at the figure slouched on a chair by the window.

"greetings," ningguang bowed, "we come bearing news.

the figure slowly turned around, eyes showing now signs of emotions, making the tianquan falter for the second time in under less than a couple of minutes.

"I have received a response back from sumeru, the impostor has been captured and dealt with as per your orders."

"oh my!" happiness was evident in their tone, "you should have started with that as soon as you walked in, ningguang!" the warmth was back, though it wasn't what ningguang was used to. this warmth felt... fake.

fabricated.

she brushed that aside.

"finally, we can make my grand reveal come to reality!" they sighed dreamily, lost in their own world, "I was worried about that impostor! I'm so delighted that it's been done and dealt with~"

they stood up and twirled around, before going to stand in front of the four (4) ladies. all looking at them with small, gentle smiles.

"our plan was put to a sudden halt but now," they giggled, "it can keep on carrying!"

the person in front of the liyue qixing grinned.

with your face.

sudden thunder could be heard in the distance.

the tsaritsa could care less about whether the one that got captured was the real creator or simply an imitation.

though her only regret was not being able to find the 'impostor' and form an alliance with them to throw the whole of teyvat off balance. having them under her protection after claiming that they were the 'real' creator would have meant putting all six nations into shambles and for her to have them at the tip of her fingers.

though the thoughts of that 'impostor' being the true creator did come to mind. even so, that would have been a win-win situation for her. she reveled in her small fantasy.

both at the fact that the real creator would have trusted her more than the ones that would, in their words, "bend celestia" in order "befriend" the creator and to bring justice to their name but cannot discern the real from the fake and the fact that she would fave had them in her palms either way.

"a shame," her voice broke the silence as she walked away from the window she has been gazing out of, heels clicking on the solid ice flooring of her palace. the sound reverberating off the crystal-looking walls.

sumeru had way more details compared to what technology could show you, you noted. many more birds than just finches, pigeons and parrots. a few weird creatures oddly ressembling chimpanzees and what not dangling on trees, even daring to walk on the roofs of houses.

it was... fascinating.

no titles were ever used in your presence when lumine's with you.

she didn't believe in any gods after all, even you. she saw you as a friend, someone who had helped her when she needed it the most.

you have made it clear that you aren't anyone's creator nor a god, especially to lumine. most people were the ones that kept on calling you by such imposing titles that it made you lose all hopes of making them understand.

once people started using your actual name more and more, making the use of 'your' title sparse, only used by those that were seeing you for the first time or knew you not, it felt... better.

it has been a month since nahida has made a public announcement that you were their creator. it also has been a month of no sleeping and yet not feeling tired, though, fear not: lumine did not sleep as well. in her words, "the nights and days of teyvat are shorts. shorter than what they are back home."

and once the announcement was made, everything changed.

many came to you to seek for blessings.

others came to seek for forgiveness for their sins, whatever they may be.

few came to ask for you to heal their illnesses.

those were always harder to deal with... at first.

the first time it happened, a couple came to you while you were on a stroll alone through the city, wanting to see it with your own eyes and not through a screen, came to you while sobbing. they told you about how their youngest son was severely ill. they begged you to heal their son, crying and bowing to the ground in fron of you.

you knew you could do nothing, you had no power.

yet you asked them to take you to their son.

and once their, you could only think that there was no saving him. the poor child was whimpering in pain while sweating a lot. tugging and turning on his bed.

you couldn't bare to see it but you approaches his bed nonetheless and knelt down besides him.

"hey, buddy," you whispered, gently taking his small hand in your own.

"I'm sorry you're suffering," another whisper, "I wish I could help you," and an attempt at a gentle smile.

the boy turned to look at you, eyes wide in admiration as he saw your figure.

from his perspective, you assumed you looked like a mere creepy stranger.

how wrong you were.

he looked at you in fascination as your eyes seemed to hold the stars within them and your gentle yet teary smile made him feel warm. so farm that he almost reveled in it.

you could only leave a gentle kiss on the back of his tiny hand and he giggled, making his parents gasp in shock.

and when you left, telling them to prepare for the worst, you felt crushed.

what could you do?

you were no god after all.

they came to find you at the house of surasthana the next day.

seeing them was too soon for you and you had to mentally brace yourself for their spiteful comments that were surely to come after you could not save their little boy.

though it never came.

instead, they cried tears of joy, bowing repeatedly at your feet, thanking you.

"what are you thanking me for?"

"your grace!" the husband exclaimed as nahida walked through the entrance, "our son was saved! thank you! thank you so much!"

the wife repeated the same words as her husband.

the archon of wisdom watched from afar, smiling warmly.

you were confused.

they left soon after, crying still and saying 'thank you's as well as promising to spread the word that you're a kind divine being.

"how did you heal their son, [name]?" the archon asked as soon as they left, making her way over to your confused form.

"I..." at a lost for words, you looked at the tiny archon, "I didn't... I don't..."

nahida softly smiled, "maybe you have healing powers?"

you violently shook your head, "no... no! I don't," you paused after trailing off, head down and looking at your trembling hands, "do I? but..." your voice trembled, "I am no god..."

the sound of doors opening could be heard, then running footsteps and the doors closing back up.

"[name]! nahida! wanderer!" paimon yelled as soon as she got closer.

nahida gently grabbed your hands after telling paimon and a panting lumine to stay quiet and wait as you were not feeling okay, and gently rubbed circles with her tiny hands on the back of your hands.

whatever she was doing, seemed to help.

and after running in looking panicked, seeing you like that made the travelling companions even more distressed though they stayed quiet.

nahida nodded at the traveler once and, somehow, lumine understood.

she approached you slowly before gently wrapping her arms around you, prompting you to do the same thing to her.

"you're all right, [name]. whatever it is that you need answers to, we will all help," her voice was gentle, "whatever it is that got you feeling uneasy, you're not alone to face it," she didn't know what happened to you prior to her and paimon barging in but those words felt right to be said to you.

the news that they have acquired while in mondstadt can wait.

your wellbeing came first.

you could only sniffle as you hugged her tightly.

nahida soon joined in, hugging your leg.

whereas paimon hugged your head.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

hellooo thank you all for the amazing support on this sudden idea turned series(?) story of mine.

if you have any questions about anything I have in mind for this series(?) go ahead and ask, my asks are open

if you wish to be tagged, let me know tho I'm not going to be tagging more than 30 people. already at 3 so far

and the next part might be the last part or at least a chapter before the last one, for now(!!!) at least as I want fontaine to come out before I even progress even further with this story.

yk, for spice ☺️

that and I can better understand where to orient this thing 🧍🏾‍♀️

(bet people think I have everything planned out for the entirety of this series but I do not. I just write on a whim and follow the flow my brain has set)

JUST LETTING YOU ALL KNOW, IF I FIND OUT SOMEONE STOLE/REWROTE MY STORY OR CHANGED UP A FEW THINGS AND IS CLAIMING IT AS THEIR OWN, THERE WILL NO LONGER BE UPDATES

and I hope that, if it does or did happen, you will let me know privately. people who steal other's original works deserves no exposure.

[j4y-lvr]

day flower (alternate ending) … park jongseong

SYNOPSIS. bent over the sink, coughing up petals and blood, you knew that your worst fears had come true.

PAIRING. jay x fem!reader

GENRE. fluff, angst, lovers2?, established!relationship (?), hanahaki au

WARNINGS. profanity, mentions of food, mentions of blood, quite a lot of kissing, possibly making out (?), one mention of loss of weight, graphic, mcd(?), death(?) !!not proofread!!

WORD COUNT. 1.6k (total :: 7k)

NOTE. i just wanted to write something sad and i came up with this,, idk why i chose jay to fit my mental image of this bc its so saddening to even imagine— EVEN THOUGH ITS SAD PLS DO READ😭‼ thoughts on an alternative ending?

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

iv. wither (alt ver.)

Jay felt like an ass to put it simply. On a deep dive inside his feelings revealed that he wasn't plainly bored at his current relationship rather bored with his stagnant work-life moreover his regulated stress load. Blown over he weighed on going over for the first time in weeks to apologise and win you over though his damage was severe.

The keys jingled in the near distance, jay slipping in through the door, watching as nothing had really moved around in the house. He contemplated on notifying you of his abrupt appearance, opting to slowly creep up the stairs. Unknown to you, you had started coughing again, the strength in your arms to cover your mouth non-existent.

Resulting in the blood coating you and the mattress in a painful fit of red as you sobbed heartbroken to yourself wondering where it went wrong, did he require more space, had you been more mindful would he still be at your side.

Jay stilled on hearing your heart wrenching sobs, the previous hesitance gone as he ran up the stairs and to your situation on the bed stained bed. Having forgotten about your coughing fit of blood through the apparent stress from the separation. 

His sight fell to the canvas in front of him greeting as you cough seized, your eyelids lugging over your glassed over orbs, jay getting to knees as he saw you covered in blood, his hand finding your paint ridden hand. You gave a weak chuckle, "if we ever meet again, I hope it works out then," you say, the diamonds leaving the comfort of your eyes and onto your crimson imposed self. 

Jay heaved from panic, "why didn't you tell me?!" He hurried exclaimed, his hand running down your arm to keep your burning vessel even warmer. Unbeknownst to him he'd been crying and you watched with low eyes close to shutting, your palm lifting up to his tear stricken cheek, "just know," you paused, shutting your eyes completely feeling the life get sucked out of your body. 

"i love you."

"I'm sorry! I was never bored with us to begin with, i wasn't in my right mind, i do love you!"

The reverting of branches in your lungs was faint heard as you experienced multiple waves of pain that had a different accent of beats in your heart, feeling yourself heal internally. Coughing, you requested, "say that again," you managed with your orbs clamping shut from the intermolecular forces shifting the branches out.

"i love you, i love you, i love you! I can't bare to see you like this i'm a real jerk, i'm so sorry darling,"

The corners of your eyes crinkled and you left the last of your sobs, turning away from him and curling into a ball, hiding away from him. He ran over to the other side of the mattress and hopped on, settling an arm over and rubbing your back as you hid in arms, sniffling.

"you're such a dick, i genuinely hope you know." you murmur loud enough for him to hear. Jay frowned and inched closer, clutching you harder, his free hand searching for your face, resting his palm on your cheek, continuing to caress it. "i'm sorry, i'm such a shitty boyfriend."

"elaborate," "on what?"

"on how you're absolute shit," "i'm that bad..?" "as of late."

Gripping your front out of the safe place you'd made for yourself, he brought you to his chest though the blood would stain his clothing, ruffling your hair not minding the blotting. Tugging you away, he brought you to his lips to which you refused, pushing yourself away. He wore a sad smile, "right, take your time."

May with diminishing hope for jay who hadn't given up on trying to win back your heart after crumbling it to pieces. He rented out a nearby apartment and would send you gifts and presents along with his handwritten letters every morning before he left for a tiresome day at work. Day after day, he'd leave them at your doorstep, leaving immediately after ringing on the doorbell.

Today was nothing different. At 8 sharp he'd drop by with a cap covering his face, items in hand, placing them in a hurry, needing to rush to work right after. Not once had you written a reply to his letters, finding it hard to write back to the man who threatened your own living from misjudgement. You watched through the small gap from the window, observing the way he fixatied his letter in the front with a weightsome sign.

He left rather slowly, drifting onto the pavement, shuffling away. Once a good few minutes had passed, you panned open the door, picking up the gifts and his handwritten letter signed up to you. You marvelled at his unwavering hope that you'd cave in even though a month without single response from you passed lestfully.

You placed them in the countertop, unfolding the letter, the usual contents consisting of little inserts of his recent updates and excerpts of his life without you. Though the one you held was shorter than expected, certain parts of the paper were spotted with water of what you suspected to be tears. Your concern spiked, hastily flipping the page over to reveal the written contents in his signature messy handwriting.

"i'll be giving up today. i'll be starting fresh elsewhere, far from here, you don't have to worry about running into me when you're out and about. finally, i'll be quitting my job, it was never for me, i'll go live a quiet life somewhere. I still love you and i will forever. live a good life without me and with someone who can treat you better than i ever did, my dear, yn." — once your shitty boyfriend, jay.

You front fell. This was what you were waiting for, so why were you clutching your mouth in a tight clasp, feeling tears escape your eyes? You didn't know how to take the news, dropping the heartfelt page to the surface, flipping open your door and on your sandals and kicking onto the sidewalk.

Walking in a sped up pace, the wet tears planted over your face, your hand wiping them away as you began jogging, taking a right turn advancing to sprint, spotting his rented out apartment right down the alley. Skipping up the metal stairs you stood before his front door, panting and sobbing all in one, stopping to think about the passcode.

Recalling it for his letter to you from the early days of April when he first bought the unit, stating it was your birthday if you ever felt the need to barge in and make yourself at home. You pressed down on the padded keys, beeping as you left and trailed over the numbers. You entered the last number and a harsh tone buzzed.

He left.

You collapsed to the floor, back to what was once his front door as you hugged your knees while tears ran down your face, clad in your pyjamas from your slumber. Footsteps echoed to your left and you couldn't give a damn as you continued to sob your heart out, grabbing your hair in frustration as you slapped your forehead from regret.

"yn?"

You peered up from your stained clothing and onto the figure who stood by your side. You scurried to your feet upon glimpsing at the stature of your boyfriend, running up to him as you collapsed into him, wrapping your arms around him. "dont leave," you uttered in a broken sob in the day at possibly 8:10am on an unsuspecting date for many.

His arms feel limp to his sides as you pull away softly, peeking at him from your teared eyelashes, solely to find him looking away from you and to the wall that faced you two, droplets of his own trailing down his cheek and onto the cold, hard floor. "no, please, look at me,"

"i can't,"

"please, jay," you voiced desperately, the man attempting to veer his head towards you, failing as he met you in the middle as soon as his eyes met yours, hanging his head low, crying.

Lifting up his head, biting down your lip, watching him refusing to open his eyes and gaze at you. You hesitated for a moment before you embraced him and let your head fall on his shoulder like in the past, your fingers clasping onto his, running another on his hair in a pat repeatedly.

Prying open his glassy orbs, he looked down at you on his shoulder, feeling your tears father and soak into his shirt. He sighed shakily, deciding to act on his desires, bringing you to him once again, just like the month where you rejected his lips, hoping you'd accept this time. If not, he'd leave without a trace.

Hesitation clouded his mind as he stared into your watering eyes. Sensing his present nerves, you slowly placed your palm to him, reaching into him, nearing his chapped lips. You stopped centimetres away, breathing out to his parted mouth. Sealing the deal, you lunged forward, yearning to lean into his touch, his fingertips gripping your shoulder setting to fire. 

You pulled away and breathing in and reached for him again, the lack filling with having, tilting into him as you deepened the kiss, the rushed sentiment healing your lonesome, listless heart with love. He broke off the connection, saliva dripping from the passion and heat between your mouths.

"do you still love me?" you queried, hoping for an affirmation. "yes, like i said, i will forever." "good because I didn't brush my teeth again,"

[plxviofiles]

you can stay.

#wanda maximoff x fem!reader, fluff <3 (requests are open!)

WARNINGS: none, not proofread because it's 4 am and I'm extremely sleep deprived 😭

→ aggressively google searches 'how to deny girlfriend when she throws pebbles on your window and gives you puppy eyes'

! word count: 1.3K

A/N: straying away from requests to write a short comfort wanda fic !! <33 i honestly dont remember what ive been doing i just remember watching encanto an unhealthy amount of times and crying over it 😕 i referenced a song (reference me is back 😇) and its one that i love v much so i hope you enjoy and also kinda referencing that one tasm gwenter scene !! ALSO IDK WHAT IS PLINK PLINK OKAY IDK HOW IT SOUNDS LIKE DONT ATTACK ME 🙄

plink.

plink.

plink.

your eye twiches.

you pull your blanket closer.

plink!

plink!

plink!

you refuse to get up, the day having been exhausting enough.

you clutch your book tighter in one hand, your other hand that circled the mug following in suit.

PLINK.

PLINK.

PLINK.

"I don't get paid enough to live," you mutter tiredly, going to check the window.

"WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM AND WHO-? wands? wands, is that you?"

the brunette smiles shyly, waving up to you excitedly, "hello, my love!"

your cheeks heat up immediately upon hearing the term of endearment, but then you put your hands on your hips, "wanda maximoff, what are you doing here? it's dark out!"

she shrugs cutely, kicking at the grass on the ground.

that's when you notice how adorable this entire situation was.

your girlfriend, who had the strictest parents and nosiest brother, was standing in your front yard, hair a lttle disheveled, a pillow held in one arm, and her hands fiddling, gazing up with your favorite puppy eyes in existence.

god, you were whipped. your arms drop to your side, and you sigh fondly.

she mutters something incoherent and you raise a brow, "sorry, angel, could you repeat that?"

her blush is visible even in the dark, "I can't sleep."

"why not?" you decide to tease her, "you have no problem sleeping during our movie nights."

she groans in protest, "love, it's not my fault I have tiring days and you love documentaries!"

you scoff playfully, placing a hand on the window sill and shaking your head at your girlfriend, "very nice, maximoff."

"I like your documentaries! they're interesting. I just-"

"I know, angel, I was kidding," you reassure her kindly, perking up slightly when you notice her shoulders relax, "why not just ring the doorbell?"

"your parents wouldn't let me in this late, you know that," she whispers, using her powers to lift herself up to your window sill.

"did i say you could come in?" you jive further, and wanda pouts.

POUTS. you hated her pouts.

she knows you're defeated when you gesture for her to come, turning around and walking back into your room.

"you can stay, but you have to be quiet, because my parents are always up late-"

like you jinxed it, you hear a knock.

"hide!" you whisper shouted to your girlfriend who franctically nods before deciding to hide in your closet that was barely big enough for your clothes and her.

"yes mom?" you ask as you open the door, a suspicious smile creeping on your face, "what is it?"

"just wanted to ask if your hot chocolate tasted good?" your mother queried good-naturedly, and you grin, "of course! whatever you make tastes good."

"good, good, well it's getting late," she leans in for a hug and you hug her tightly, "you should go to sleep."

"of course," you kiss her on the cheek, "good night, mom."

you close the door and that's when wanda bursts out of your closet, littering your room floor with clothes.

you stand there and a laugh escapes, wanda's shocked face making the whole situation funnier.

wanda laughs along and you start picking your clothes up, "you really bring the party with you, don't you?"

"good that you're starting to notice," wanda chirps, standing up with your help and brushing herself off.

"it was that ONE time like years ago," you argue gamesomely, "let it go!"

"never."

and another knock.

your eyes widen and wanda doesn't need you to talk to dive behind your curtains.

"yes?" you attempt to keep your facade up to your sister, who looks at you confusedly, "you seem....skittish."

"oh, it's nothing," you wave dismissively, "just had too much coffee, that's all!"

she still appears to be onto you but either didn't care or was too tired to question more (you don't even drink coffee but nevermind), "can i borrow your yellow sweater?"

wanda cringes behind the curtains when she remembers she put it on just now when you were cleaning up, and like you knew what she was thinking, you cringe as well.

you pretend to think, looking in your closet, "give me a sec!"

your sister taps her foot, looking around your room, although not entering, "hey, your curtain-"

"UM, I CAN'T FIND IT!" you suddenly exclaim, "pretty sure I threw it into the washing machine yesterday!"

"but-"

"no buts!" you interrupt, shooing her away, "I'll give it to you when I find it okay? Enjoy your night out!"

when she opens her mouth again, you shut the door for the second time.

wanda ungracefully untangles herself from the curtains and gives you a clumsy thumbs up, which you respond to with a weak smile.

"you okay?" wanda asks, approaching you and cupping your face gently with her hands.

"yeah, i just," you start, when you hear ANOTHER KNOCK.

AGAIN.

steam pours out of your ears as wanda whispers soothing words before crawling underneath your bed, causing you to giggle at the ridiculous actions she took just to make sure you don't get in trouble.

"hello, how was your day?" it was your father.

horrible. tiring. you just want a good evening with your girlfriend. why are we still here. just to suffer?

"good," you laugh nervously, sounding strained, "very good. amazing. wonderful."

"I can tell when you're being sarcastic, you know," your father worridly places a hand on your shoulder, "you could come to me whenever?"

"I know, whenever I feel bad," you recite the same thing he's told you since you were little, "I know dad, and it's the same for you okay? how was your day?"

"better after this little chat and one of your mother's cups of hot chocolate," he chuckles joyfully, squeezing your shoulder, "well, I'll-"

"yes, I'll see you later, make sure you sleep, I'll sleep now too! good night!"

you slam the door after he walks away and you let yourself slide down until you're sitting on the floor.

wanda crawls out of her hiding place with a concerned gaze, but you lift up an awkward thumbs up, mirroring hers a while ago, to show that you were okay.

"I love my family so much, it's just," you sigh heavily, "everyone knows I had a long day and do not enter is written on the doorway! why can't everyone just go away!"

wanda nods in understanding, but doubt is clearly in her eyes before you oppose it, "except you. you can stay."

the happiness in her eyes at those five words makes you sigh again, but this time in relief. she chose to be here and you chose to let her in. she could make you feel better about anything.

you dramatically lift yourself up from the floor and flop on your bed, and wanda plops in the bed next to you, positioning her head to lay on your chest.

she hums beautifully while you weave your hand through her hair.

it was one of your favorite actions to do, it just reminded you that she was there. present with you.

"sorry you had such a long day, love," wanda whispers, fingers dancing along your torso and then your neck, pulling you closer.

"it's not your fault," you mumble, burying your face into her hair that always somehow smelt like cinnamon, "i'm just glad you're here."

"so am I," she places kisses up your neck and eventually her soft lips land on yours.

"how was your day?" you inquire, remembering to check on her too.

she looks into your eyes and your vision is flooded with your favorite shade of green.

"way less tiring than yours," she giggles when you frown, knowing that you wanted to jump and tell her that it still matters to you, "I got a new book."

"that's wonderful, what's it about?" your eagerness never fails to make wanda's heart warm.

and there, tucked in bed with the love of your life, with her breath fanning your face, and your hand set on the small of her back, you thank the universe that wanda maximoff was yours.

[chanelhamitlon]

but its always been you|| Thomas Jefferson x Reader

word count: 1550

warnings: cusing, lack of proofreading, mentions of death

A/N: my first Thomas fic🙈 (Modern AU like most of them) Idk how collage works pls 😭

Inspiration: Youuu - COIN (its really good omg)

QUICK NOTE: the cuts are usually to switch between y/n and thomas

tell me if you wanna be in my permanent tag list :))

Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders.

"Jefferson,Thomas". He walked up the stage to receive his much deserved diploma. Four years of extensive studying just for this moment. He looked at the crowd and as if the world suddenly stopped. He focused on this one person. She had a camera up to her face, her hair glistening in the daylight. He looked like her as if he had seen a ghost. He snapped out of it as she lowered her camera. His girlfriend, of course. She smiled at him as the announcer calls on the next graduate. He walked down and towards her. Now that he thinks about it, he'd gaze out to her like this multiple times now, but he feels this is not because of her herself. He saw someone else in her. A high school sweetheart perhaps. He might've seen the gold flakes in her e/c colored eyes as he did with Y/n. He was sure he had long forgotten about her. She was special, sure but as high school sweethearts go, they stay in high school. He was convinced the countless exes he'd have were all to drown out her calling out for him once more. Just one more time at least. He'd like to think that moving to the other side of the world also helped with the cause. That was his number one priority; to forget about the one year they spent together.

You always thought that it wasn't anyone's fault that you and Thomas broke up. It was just not in anyones best interest to keep it going after high school and if the feelings last, he'd always say that he will find you. You lost faith that he'd come back of course. Whatever goes on in high school, stays in high school. You would go on several dates with people in college but you would always find yourself comparing them to Thomas. You focused on your studies, everyone telling you that you were smart; 'If only they knew how much I know about the things that really matter'.

You look at the clock '12:34 am'. Graduation was tomorrow or later. You were trying to fall asleep, and quickly at that, but you can't refrain from overthinking. Every scenario running through your head in a fast pace. Every outcome possible, you could have saved that relationship. Were you thinking of going back to New York to find him? It was nice as it is in California. You had your essentials, a good connection to your family online, but it was never really enough. You needed him.

The day came through fast paced. You would think that one of the most important milestones in live would be savored by time, running slowly. It was the opposite, time was never forgiving of you, years came by in a glimpse. You still felt like a kid, just not now. Graduation had such a surreal feeling to it, no one was never obliged to finish school of course, but you would think that something this sentimental would finally saturate the world with colors.

At the bus ride to downtown San Fransisco, your mind drifted off with ease. The music flowing to your ears made you feel like you were in a music video, those artsy kinds who would always try to incorporate daily life then proceed with a shot of a glamorous mansion. A song comes on, one of your favorites actually, Youuu by COIN.

' She moves just like you

She tastes like you

But its always been youuu...'

They say that music with certain themes will always trigger memories, flowing back to your brain. Even the ones you could have sworn you have forgotten. Thomas springs in to mind. He was a player in high school, of course he would have found someone new by now. That year was still pretty vivid to you though. All the sneaking around, all your firsts, the mini get togethers turned dates. You remember everything.

"Hey do you want to go out on Saturday?"Thomas' voice echoes through the walls of the almost room. He was staying with his girlfriend for the meantime since her parents were to insist on them 'not spending money on property' yet. Although Thomas was to never have a problem with money, his family was filthy rich at that. He was still deciding whether to stay here, with his girlfriend, in the suburbs, content with a stable income job; or to his family in New York City, a corporate job, and maybe even to you.

"What's the occasion?" Her voice sweetly said. Running her hands through his curls. "I wanna see you dance again." He said with a light chuckle. She laughed, "Come on... I don't dance THAT bad". He enjoyed moments like this. He truly did. The light touching and cuddling, just enjoying each others presence. He knew that she was human and he was truly sorry. He was sorry that she was being played like a pawn in the game of life. He was sorry that this was temporary. He was sorry that he was looking for someone. And he is sorry that that sorry that that someone wasn't her. They both noticed that the vinyl record had stopped playing. She stood up and changed the track record. Thomas sat up and looked at her. Her back was faced towards him. 'Even her silhouette reminds him of you' . The decision is clear then.

You started working a minimum wage job to pay the bills. You live in an apartment, sharing a space with your roommate, Reese. She was kind enough as it is, you both treated each other like family. She got you through when you were looking for a job. Now paying her back, you got her a little cake to celebrate her birthday. Going home from the cake shop, you stopped your tracks to see a rather tall man in the street, he was talking to someone on his phone. 'It couldn't possibly be him'. You wanted to think rationally at that moment, but you were overtaken by your emotions. You lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned around to reveal a completely different person. You quickly apologized to the person. You weren't lying to yourself at this point, you were pretty devastated that it wasn't him.

Unlocking your apartment door, you heard mild sobs in the far left to you. That was your roommate's room. You closed the door and headed straight to her door. Knocking three times, you opened the door to a disheveled Reese, frantically grabbing tissues.

"What happened?" You were still going to approach her, mildly forcing her into toxic positivity. You were ready to listen to her. "I'm moving out." In your role as her roommate, this was the only thing that should concern you, but you were close and so you thought that something had happened at home. "My dad died. I'll move home and live there from now on." You understand completely that that was what she needed to do. You offer to help her on countless things of course. That night was one of the gloomiest in the apartment. You slowly watched her pack away most of her stuff, sulking away most days, above all that, conversation halted and was now a thing of the past.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Trying to make conversation at dinner, Thomas' girlfriend asked him to whether they would actually last or not. Long distance never really works for anyone, might as well rip the band-aid off now. Thomas looked like he was burried in a million thoughts, he looked at her apathetically, without an answer. They ate away the evening, they were the opposite of this lively restaurant. She looked at him, wanting to ask him more; what's are you thinking is at risk? what's weighing your shoulders down? is there 'a someone'?

Just as Thomas was to suggest leaving the restaurant and just saying sorry for the melancholy he brought to the evening, she stood up and suggested a dance. 'That's what they came for anyway.' He gladly accepted and took the lead, whisking her away to the dance floor. There were about 3 other couples around them, lost in their own world. He wants to think rationally, he doesn't want to loose his mind and let his emotions seep through his walls. They were slow dancing now. 'She really feels like y/n'.

"Who's y/n and why do I feel like her?"

Thomas froze. He accidentally said it out loud. There's no stoping it now, just tell her the truth; rip the band aid off.

"She's a girl I used to date in high sc-"

"Every relationship in high school stays in high school Thomas. grow up"

Thomas didn't know what to say.He didn't know why that sentiment ticked him off that way. He didn't know why his body was suddenly in flames. He didn't know what to say so all he did was run; run far away. She didn't understand. If you would've explained where you came from she would. No, she wouldn't.

Just before they reach the car she caught up to him. He turned around looking so distraught.

"Ive made up my mind."

part 2 👀?