#actually very surprised that i didn't 1) lose and 2) go to soft pity on yearning

[acheron-starrail]

For once I didn't get scammed by Yearning of the Water.

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

[msladyrosa]

I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.