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taones · 4 years ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 - akaashi, iwaizumi

Pairings: Iwaizumi, Akaashi x gn!reader

Notes: this was written at like 2am and edited (half assed) when I was half asleep so I’m very sorry if there is any mistakes, love you guys

Warnings: harsh language, reader gets called clingy, minor arguing, most of this has been done before lmao, very hurt/comfort

― Akaashi

Chances are he got to engrossed in work because it's not like akaashi to forget something like this

Really, he remembers almost everything when it comes to you so when you were still sat alone at 10pm on your birthday, you began to worry something had happened to him

There was no dinner ready and you hadn’t dressed up yet, thinking Keiji would come home and tell you what you were doing

Yet you found yourself ringing his phone for the 5th time that night, this time he answered

“What y/n I’m really busy?” His tone led you to believe he wasn’t in the best mood

You asked him when he would be home and that seemed to set him off

“I told you i had to do things today okay, I won’t be home until later I don’t get why you have to know what I’m doing all the time. Think about me for once”

And with that you hung up, it was obvious what had happened.

Keiji felt guilty yeah, but he did need to work and he knew that he could just apologise when he got home. Sure, it wasn’t like you to just hang up but he figured you were also tired from the long week and left it at that. It wasn’t until he opened his messages he felt his blood freeze.

There, screaming at him from the screen of his phone, was a text from bokuto that read ‘hey, y/n isn’t picking up could you say happy birthday for me man?’

He had to get home.

By the time the black haired man had arrived back home, he was soaked from the rain and biting at his nails nervously. The lights in the house were all off and he just hoped to god that you were still inside the house. Even though it would be perfectly within your right to not be.

The living room held a silence that he had never quite hated as much as he did now. The pile of openers cards from your friends seemed to taunt him from the coffee table. How had even atsumu remembered and he hadn’t? He was your boyfriend. He hoped he would still be when he finally found you. You were curled up on your side in your bedroom. Obviously not asleep but not showing any signs of acknowledgment either. Guilt tugged at his stomach.

“Y/n” he started, trailing off

What was he supposed to say to you? ‘Hey sorry I forgot your birthday and called you selfish’. Yeah, great going Keiji.

“Y/n I’m really sorry and I know that probably won’t make it better and I can’t take back what I said to you.” He drew in a shaky breath, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to forget about you I’ve just been working so hard and-“

A sob cut him off. His soft hand on your shoulder broke your resolve and you allowed him to turn you around.

“Just,” you sobbed, “please don’t do it again Keiji, all I do is think about you”

He wrapped his arms around your shaking form, pulling you into his embrace.

“I know, I should’ve been thinking more about you. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow”

― Iwaizumi

Hajime had always been a pretty busy person, this was evident ever since you started dating

Now it was his final year though, you had never seen him more stressed

So, you decided to show up to one of his practices on your birthday, for the past 2 years he had always left early or at least with you when it was a special date

And it was your birthday but that didn’t mean you couldn’t treat him too and you know how hard he had been working, so you made a bento

The moment you walked in to the gym it was like everyone but him lit up, the third years came over to say hi and even Kyoutani sent you a quick nod

You tapped your boyfriend on the shoulder and when he didn’t reply you went for a hug, only for him to move at the last minute

“Why are you here y/n?” He asked coldly

You explained to him that you wanted to come see him like always, not mentioning your birthday in case it was a joke, he wasn’t laughing

“A little clingy don’t you think? You text me all day and now you come and interrupt practice? Why are you so needy today damn?”

You just turned and walked out, hoping nobody had heard your conversation

“Hey Iwa aren’t you gonna leave early?” Matsukawa asked him at the end of practice.

“No, why?” He had calmed down significantly now and had forgotten what he said to you

“Uh... cause it’s y/n's birthday?” Makki called from behind the net, “you do it every year, right?”

Iwa dragged his hands down his face. He had been too stressed to even remember what day it was let alone your birthday. And now he had forgotten you completely after making those comments.

“Why would they want to?” Kyoutani growled up from his sweeping, “after what you said to them”

A dozen pairs of eyes seemed to bore into his soul. Guilt had stolen his breath and his head was spinning but he knew he had to go and fix this before it was too late.

You were sat on the cold step of your house, sobbing into the sleeves of one of your boyfriends jumpers. You should probably give that back. If your conversation earlier was anything to go by then he wouldn’t be keeping you around much longer. Staring at the fabric, now stained with your tears, you thought about what he said. Maybe you were clingy.

“Y/n!”

You looked up to see a very out of breath Iwaizumi runnning towards you, face flushed

Looking down, you grumbled a quick ‘what?’. You were hurt and the balloons attached to your bag were smacking against the side of your house as if taunting you.

“You know Iwaizumi” he flinched at the use of his last name, “if you wanted to break up, you could at least have the decency not to do it on my birthday”

“No y/n, I would never- I don’t want to break up” he cried, words were failing but he carried on, “I’ve been so stressed looking after the team and Oikawa with his knee I just forgot”

When your eyes met it felt like his heart had broken in two. Your eyes were glistening with unshed tears and you had obvious tear tracks down your face. A nod let him know it was okay to carry on.

“Please, I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to forget, can we try again tomorrow? I’d never hurt you on purpose”

Tears began running down your cheeks again.

You nodded and the man pulled you in for a kiss, not caring about the taste of your salty tears. Murmuring ‘I love you’ against your lips, he pulled you in as close as he could to you. Like he would never let you go.

It might not have been the best birthday but you were content knowing he would always try his best to make up for the things he does.

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this it wasn’t reread or anything so there might be a lot of mistakes I’m sorry but I’m happy if you liked it mwah!

Remember that reblogging helps content creators darlings and that ily very much

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi head anons #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi Drabble #iwaizumi imagine #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi x reader #akaashi head anons #Keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi angst #haikyuu headcanons

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identityexcavationstation · 5 years ago

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Week 2: Keeping Ourselves to Ourselves

I’ve been doodling a lot lately. This seems to happen the same way every year: one day in January I wake up knowing how to draw. And because I only do things I’m already good at and always stay in my comfort zone, I start drawing a lot. While I’m resigned to the fact that, eventually, my drawing powers will wane and I will again become a simple civilian who can’t scribble out a figure to save her life, I’m thriving right now. Yesterday, I drew two hands. TWO! And they actually looked like hands. Ah the wonder and mystery of youth.

Look at these suckers! Nails and everything! God I’m talented.

These recent doodling days have brought to the surface a lot of questions about my process and the (big) difference between my public-facing work and the art I do just for myself. I post on Instagram very rarely—once a month, maybe—because I want to share only the best stuff, the work I feel a.) done with, b.) proud of, and c.) ready to share. (Turns out that’s not a lot of work.) But I create a lot more stuff than I ever share with the internet, my friends, or my mom. While I do get stuck in my head quite a lot (if you’re an avid reader of this blog, you know this... as if there are any avid readers of this blog lmao), I also constantly need to be making and moving to prove to myself that my presence on Earth is justified.

One of the ways this manifests is in my journaling practice. I began seriously journaling (where “seriously” means every day, mercilessly, with no breaks) the first day of 2017 and have done so ever since, save the six-month period this year when I was in a really bad place and didn’t want to remember anything I did. That moves into the bigger question of why I do it: you’d think it would be to reflect on my day or whatever, but I’m constantly reflecting on everything I do all the time and it’s frankly so exhausting that it would be easier to not have to sit down and think even more about what I do and why. Put simply, here’s why I journal:

(I need you to pretend those pictures of the Simpson baby are pictures of me when I’m thirty. Just go with it.)

I am my own audience. I always have been. It’s such a no-brainer for me that I often forget there are other people who may one day be seeing and experiencing the things I’m creating. (Last semester, when I was working on my Minor in Writing Capstone project, I had a transcendent, revelatory moment in which I thought, “Huh, I should probably determine my audience for these essays.” The deadline was two weeks away. That’s how deep this thing goes.) When I think about who’s gonna read my journals, it’s my future self. That’s what drives me to be candid and expressive in my writing every night: Future Me needs to know who I am and what I did.

These doodle pages I do in my sketchbook or on handouts or on fifteen Post-It notes at 2am function very much the same way, although the process is much more intuitive. I listen to what I want to make in the moment without judging or questioning why. This is so hard for me to do when I know other people will be seeing my work, but on my own, it becomes this magical headspace I can’t easily replicate on demand. Here are a few examples:

One of the coolest things that happens here is that words just float to the forefront of my mind and I write them down. Song lyrics, questions, fragments... none of it really makes sense to me at the time, but when I go back and look days or weeks later, those words (paired with images) retroactively provide a crystal clear reflection of my emotional state. That first image up there, the one with the hands? I drew a hand and then my brain said, suddenly and without explanation, “The hands are the lips of the arms.” Like, what the actual hell? I still have no idea what that means, but it was begging to be written down, if only for the laughs. And I bet when I come back to it in a few weeks, I’ll know exactly what I was talking about.

I think part of the reason I value this work, why I do it at all, comes from the immense regret I feel for not documenting my teenage years. It’s not just because I’m trying to reconstruct them in retrospect for this project and that’s hard... I think I really missed out on an opportunity to explore my feelings and create a space inside myself devoid of ridicule. I didn’t write poetry and I barely drew because I was too afraid of making something cringy or ugly or emo or “bad.” I thought of all my life, my entire identity, as public-facing—completely vulnerable to scrutiny, in need of constant defense.

That’s one of the most challenging (and exciting!) parts of my project: I’m trying to publicize my own private life in a way that still feels private, personal, borderline voyeuristic. It’s true that my book will be inspired by the form and function of the yearbook, a highly public and social object. But I’m attempting to juxtapose the preconception of the yearbook as a document created specifically for public consumption with all of this personal stuff—“stuff” being both narrative/conceptual and visual/physical. In short, I’m creating public-facing documentation of personal identity and experience using private ephemera, things that my protagonist (i.e. me) thinks no one will ever see.

The most complex and worrisome part of all of this is the layers of inauthentic manufacturing I’m doing when it comes to visual documentation. (Part of my point is that adolescent identity is highly manufactured and constantly policed by society and the inner self, so I guess it’s fitting and meta and all that, but it sure as hell isn’t comfy!) I’m trying to recreate private creative documentation processes, like the ones I use in my journals and sketchbooks, with the full knowledge that this work will be seen, consumed, and critiqued by strangers. I have to think about how to make people care about both my personal experience as a teenage girl and the broader subject of identity in female adolescence. On top of that, I’m burdened with the rights, feelings, and privacy of the other “characters” in my story, the people I knew and loved and lost when I was fifteen. Deep down, I know that my memory and perception of others’ adolescent identity is just a funhouse mirror reflection. But how much of their teenage selves would these individuals be willing to share with the whole world, if given the choice?

Everything is so much simpler when the only audience I answer to is me.

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meggannn · 7 years ago

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LOL YOUR ROOMMATE?? I can't stop laughing omg

god did i ever share the full story of what happened with my housemate last year? i think i bitched about her a little bit but here’s the full write-up of my six months with that housemate. unedited and probably full of errors and discrepancies sorry cause im going off entirely from memory

i’ve now moved out of this apartment, but i was there for a year with three other girls. two of them i got along with fine, and we introduced ourselves to each other before we moved in because that’s common courtesy to see if we get along right? but basically before any of us could talk or interview candidates for the last spot in the apartment, this girl, i’m making up a name and calling her emily, this random girl named emily basically came in and signed on for the spot on the lease without talking to any of us. uh, okay? so we eventually all get in a group chat and talk and introduce ourselves and plan to move in. day one: emily moved in before me and i moved in a few hours later. i walk in and see the kitchen and she’s already covered the fridge with magnets and pictures and paper clippings featuring…. herself. like, a few of them had her friends, but most of the pictures were of her. basically. am i crazy or is that fucking weird? so from the get-go she just seemed……. if not privileged (which i also knew she was later), then definitely some sort of weird type of entitled but i couldn’t tell if it was maybe just cultural differences? (she was russian but had grown up in the states. idk)

anyway. she had this boyfriend who would come over occasionally, it was no problem since we didn’t talk and just waved hi to each other occasionally. but from the first week she and another housemate who lived on the far end of the apartment were both having trouble sleeping because someone else on the floor was blaring their tv loudly all hours of the night in the room next door. after several weeks of not being able to sleep through the night, they’d pretty much had enough and managed to track down whose apartment it was, and it turned out to be this elderly black woman’s apartment. i don’t really know if the woman understood why they were so upset because i think she might have been going slightly senile as well, so i think maybe the tv, or the volume, was something she wasn’t entirely aware she was doing? but the other housemate, i’ll call her veronica (who is more chill but was still upset) understood that this was probably not a fight they wanted to pick. veronica noticed that the elderly woman had a middle-aged male visitor, who looked like family, come visit the woman a few times a week and take care of her/take out the trash etc, so veronica decided to wait until she saw the visitor again to talk to him about lowering the volume or turning the tv off, or maybe getting his relative headphones or something. but emily, like….. kept pushing it every single night. every single night for the first month or so she’d stomp across the floor and rap on the door loud enough to wake up the entire floor (the walls were thin and it wasn’t a big building). and most of the time the woman didn’t respond, but there was one notable time someone else got fed up enough to wake up at 2am and yell at emily (deservedly so) for waking up the whole hall. all of which i heard very clearly because my room was next to the main door to out apt.

things escalated when i overheard emily talking to her friend on the phone about the situation and then she mentioned that in retaliation, she went over in the middle of the night and put vaseline on the woman’s door handle. i was kind of stunned and disgusted that a grown ass adult (she’s at least a few years older than me, i’d guess late 20′s/early 30′s?) would do something like that???? but anyway a few nights later iirc, once again in the middle of the night, i was woken up by a shouting match down the hall because apparently the male relative had come back to check in on who he said was his mother, and HE WAS PISSED, UNDERSTANDABLY SO, AT FINDING MY ROOMMATE IN THE MIDDLE OF PUTTING VASELINE ON THE FLOOR CREVICE UNDER THE DOOR. LIKE. THAT’S NOT JUST PETTY BUT REAL FUCKING DANGEROUS TO DO TO AN ELDERLY WOMAN. he basically shouted at her and she kept talking about how she can’t sleep for months because of the noise, and whatever, but she stomped back to our apartment and they had this argument loudly at the door (remember, my room was right next to the front door). i listened to it for a couple minutes wondering if she would like, acknowledge what she did was wrong? and it became clear that she was so focused on the noise she wasn’t listening to this dude, so i came out and i tried to be a voice of reason. the guy was understandably really pissed that she would do something like that and i apologized for her and said she was wrong to do that (she had stomped off back to her room meanwhile) and he seemed grateful to talk to someone who wasn’t batshit crazy in the meantime so he mentioned that he had grown up in this building all his life before moving out so it hurt to see someone treat his mother this way who had lived here for 50 years or something. and after that i was just thinking like, jesus, this is so not the kind of fight you want to have with a family like this as a white woman in a gentrified apartment complex. like at some point you need to realize this is not your fucking place and if you must settle things, do it civilly or just dip out entirely.

i think emily eventually apologized and he accepted and they found out that the tv wasn’t even coming from the woman’s room at all, but from someone on the floor above who THEY also had had problems with for months.

veronica was away on a trip i think during this climax, but before, while it was still escalating, i was talking with veronica and veronica mentioned she and emily had bitched about the noise to each other often, but veronica said she drew the line when emily basically started making her complaints race-themed ever since she found out the elderly woman was black. etc the complaints turned from “it’s too loud” to “this neighborhood is so ghetto” and “that’s what black ppl are like” and stuff like that. veronica wasn’t cool with that, so she planned on handling any other complaints herself directly so she could resolve things like a normal person, but ever since veronica mentioned that i knew emily was a pos

emily also complained about people partying/drinking on the street outside till ~11pm, which imo isn’t too unreasonable, like normal people do, and basically being too loud or whatever. on some level i get it cause she had to go to sleep early to go to work early, but also at some point i was just wondering how she functioned as a human being in the real world

ANYWAY THE STORY I TELL AT PARTIES IS THIS ONE, THE ONE IN WHICH SHE LEAVES (i will try to keep this as short as possible while still giving you all the details you need to understand just how fucking weird it was):

in early november, emily group messaged everyone asking if her boyfriend could come live with us. to her credit she said she wouldn’t do it unless everyone was ok, and she waited to hear back from all of us. i was out of town at the time but i remember being really put off by this idea and i was going to say no, when i noticed that my two other housemates had ALREADY said yes in the chat. just like that. i was stunned. what? like, no follow-up questions or “we dont even really know him” or “how is this gonna work”? were they fucking insane?

i messaged her privately saying i really wasn’t comfortable with it, for xyz reasons. among those being 1) rent, because nowhere did she offer to split the rent five ways instead of four (they were basically going to split her room between them, which, no). 2) fridge/living space, which was small enough with four people to one apartment as it is, and 3) just overall “i dont fucking know him” atmosphere. she messaged back saying she understood, and i got to asking why this was so important to her to do now, because she mentioned she wanted to do it “asap” if we’d said yes.

and this is where my “no” turned into “hell fucking no.” she told me this:

in response to my question of if she’d want to put him on the lease, she said no, she wouldn’t want her boyfriend on the lease in case “something happens so she could just tell him to leave” (raising my question: what, exactly, do you expect to happen? maybe the landlord, who lives in the building, finding out someone’s living here illegally? bc THAT WOULD DO IT FOR ME)

she was marrying him in december which is why she wanted it to happen “soon” so they wouldnt be living apart. i asked why she couldnt just wait until the lease was up to do all this, to which she said:

her boyfriend’s green card (he was russian) had expired so he was now paying month to month and that’s when i realized, oh. bitch he’s using you for a green card marriage and you’re trying to inconvenience all of us instead of owning your life like an adult, or something

at some point during the conversation she like tried to bribe me with a couple hundred extra dollars per month “to cover the cost of the extra utlities/wifi/inconvenience,” which i politely declined. this was when i said basically “look i never got the sense you particularly liked living here (massive understatement) and i think that it’d work out best if you moved out, which you’re clearly already planning to do”

and she did start looking immediately. at some point while she was looking i overheard her talking to veronica mentioning that he was a huge fan of putin and she’d asked him to like, politely, stop?, lmao because she didn’t like his entire yknow politics, and he basically said “i’m sorry, i can’t betray my personal/national identity, i just really believe in putin” or whatever the fuck and i thought to myself, this bitch is marrying him anyway for some godforsaken reason

i don’t know why i hoped that she would be any more considerate moving out than when she moved in, but somehow i was still surprised when the sublet she picked out was someone she never introduced us to or mentioned before, she literally just said “hey here’s your new housemate and when she’s moving in” and dropped us a phone number and facebook page.

one last thing: while emily was moving out, veronica mentioned to me that she was really pleased i stood up to her because she felt massively uncomfortable with the situation too. i asked why she didn’t say something, and she said she talked to emily privately airing out her problems, and emily had managed to talk her into accepting that sort-of bribe privately off message, and emily told her ‘just say yes’ in the chat, so she did and was kind of kicking herself for it after. (our other housemate was off doing fuck knows what at this point; she was gone for weeks on end leaving us to take care of her guinea pigs for her with little to no warning.)

but then, veronica says, the big thing that astounds her is that this wasn’t even the same boyfriend who she’d had when she’d moved in. six months had passed by this point. SHE HAD BEEN DATING GREEN CARD GUY FOR LIKE, THREE MONTHS WHEN SHE DROPPED THIS ON US

and then she moved to fucking harlem, one of the yknow most diverse neighborhoods in the city known particularly for its black heritage, so i guess have fun honey

(her replacement somehow turned out to be just as bad as she was, so you can imagine why i was eager for my lease to end in may)

#stuff #Anonymous #askbox

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donutcryforme · 8 years ago

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ABOUT THE MUN

BASICS:

NAME: Sam PRONOUNS: She/Her SEXUALITY: Pretty straight. I’d say out of 10 I’d be about a 2. LIke a girl at a party last week asked if she could kiss me and I told her no lmao. Solid 2/10 TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single. Please, I can barely juggle my life as it is.

THREE FACTS:

1. I hate the cold. As a result, I love anything warm and fuzzy :) (i.e. pants/socks/sweaters) 2. I’ve sprained my right ankle four (4) times via a variety of stupid incidents, but only one of them involved alcohol 3. It wasn’t until preschool when I drew a family portrait of me, my mom, my dad, and the dog, that I realized I had two older brothers. We lived together. In the same house. They shared a bedroom upstairs. We ate dinner together every night. I just didn’t know we were related (they’re 10 and 13 years older than me. To a 4-year-old, they were adults and therefore not brothers). I cried. My mother thought it was hilarious. We have the picture on an apron, a coffee mug, and a mousepad.

2. EXPERIENCE

HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): HmMmMm I joined a Tumblr rp for a few months back in 2013 but didn’t really get into the Tumblr rp community until last March, so let’s round and say one year. PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: Tumblr, obviously. Oh! And in the 9th grade, my friend and I used to send sentences back and forth in AIM. Every character had a different color. That was cute. RIP AIM BEST EXPERIENCE: I’ll say my first rpg from 2013 since today I found out people still post OOC there and I’m feeling nostalgic. Pllus, it was simple and easy We only wrote dialogue. Ahhhh eaaasy street~

3. MUSE PREFERENCES

FEMALE OR MALE: I have nothing against girl FCs but I seem to play guys more. Can’t tell you why. You would think as a girl I’d be better at playing other girls. Apparently not. MULTI OR SINGLE: I’m much better at concentrating on one character in an rpg setting where there’s more opportunity for development, than tackling on a bunch of characters at once on an indie blog. (Possibly why the reason my indie is always so neglected ...)

4. WRITING PREFERENCES

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: Angst, with moments of fluff rationed and dispersed to give your characters hope and remind them what all that heartbreak is for (entertainment) PLOTS OR MEMES: I really suck at plotting and don’t reblog memes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I prefer making it up as I go. Spontaneous collaboration. Always a surprise. Fun times. LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I always say I prefer doing quicker, shorter replies, but then I get going and my writing grows twice the size of what it was supposed to be. And chats/texts when I’m mobile because it makes commuting suck less <3 BEST TIME TO WRITE: When I can’t or shouldn’t be writing: at work, 2am, etc.... (But in actuality, catch me right after dinner and that’s probably as Prime as I’m going to get) ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): I think in order to relate to a character on any scale there needs to be some tiny similarity, just so they’re not inaccessible, (even if it’s inconsequential). But on a larger scale, no. Definitely not.

Tagged by: @wastedsxns Tagging : all of the people i follow and enjoy seeing on my dash but suck at interacting with :^)

#thank you julia for this opportunity to procrastinate #( out of donuts )

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