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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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aoba johsai’s sport’s journalist (h/c’s)

just crack+ fluff + platonic-ish relationship (gn!y/n) (w: language!) a/n: this has been bugging me for awhile now since i havent seen headcanons of this yet (if their are do send them on my ask box) and since im on a slump, i decided to write this down. this is completely fun, easy-going, and self-indulgent, really perfect for someone stuck on a slump ksks. idk if i should make some for the other schools but oh welp enjoy! happy 900 btw werkwerk uwu so weird to reach this when im not even very active.

Now let’s be honest here, it’s no surprise that the volleyball team of aoba johsai has their own sports journalist. Like, c’mon, they’re one of the best in the prefecture.

But let’s start with the basics here, shall we? Let’s start with you, how this all goes through, and how you got into this heaping pile of mess.

Yep, you.

There you were in high hopes to get into journalism for college so what better way was it than to apply for the school paper? It would definitely look good and pretty in those college applications *chef’s kiss* you’re a second year btw idk if that matters but yeah..

Much to your surprise no one was applying for the news section which was kind of sad since you wanted a buddy there.

but-but it turns out though everyone was applying for the sports section completely understandable, next to feature, it was the most exciting thing to write because there was going to be a special section and writer for the volleyball team.

You knew that volleyball was kind of a big thing around your school?? you just didn’t expect it to amass like that much people.

The editor in chief is obviously surprised, you were the first person on that day to come in there and actually apply for something else.

and guess where that led you to?

Yep, the sport’s section, specifically the volleyball team’s personal sports journalist. Your brain goes brrt brrt because you were not a sports writer at all and you were, ironically, scared of ball games.

VOLLEYBALL WAS COMPLETELY NEW TERRITORY FOR YOU.

Your editor in chief laughs it off and says, “you’ll do fine… its like news bUT SPORTS! IT’LL DEFINITELY LOOK GOOD IN YOUR APPLICATIONS!”

You’re not sure if you should be terrified or terrified?

It doesn’t help that on the first day when you enter the gym you look terribly constipated and panicking a lot because of all the stray balls being spiked and tossed around.

It also didn’t help that you crash course the terminologies and the member’s name a night before and you were just running on iced coffee that day.

Yeah, way to make a first impression, huh?

When you approach the coach, you’re not exactly sure what to say and you were this close to chickening out until you saw one of the players come up to you and ask if you were alright and if you wanted to talk to oikawa.

you’re loading for a second there.

and the poor guy who asks you if you were alright, starts looking actually worried because you weren’t responding at all.

“OH, oH IS THAT THE CAPTAIN?”

the guy literally looks very confused?? because what kind of rock were you living under that you didn’t know Oikawa???

so you go ahead and introduce yourself and say that your name was Y/N and you were the new sports journalist for the team.

“....soooo you write?”

“...”

at this point on, you’re also confused too

and idk man, first impressions do indeed last because you ended up (unknowingly) sharing the same brain cell with Matsukawa Issei.

you both were just confused there, straight up looking like two kids who got left behind by their mom in the grocery check-out line.

anyways...

He tells you the team’s pretty chill and you should stop looking like they spiked a ball on your puppy or something.

Basically introduces you to the whole team after,

no questions asked, just go with the flow.

You basically just click and vibe???

Not only because you crash coursed and related to whatever they said,

you literally all shared the same brain cell together.

Kentaro was another story though, kid basically hated your guts at first, it felt like if you were to say one sentence to him that day, he’d literally spike a ball at your direction.

“we’re basically the same year tho :(” -Y/N

“lmao well do i’ve got news for you, y/n-chan.” - Oikawa and basically everyone on the team.

you gradually start to understand the coolness of the sport since you had to incorporate visiting them once or twice a week during practice.

but suddenly it becomes almost a daily routine after a month because they’re just really friendly people??

like wow, they’re all friendly giants.

You’re literally just there to write about them but they’re really patient and kind, they even invite you to practice games so that you could practice out your skills in writing since you mentioned that you’ve never written for sports yet.

they even give you some added key terms that aren’t found in books and online.

you’re def closest to iwaizumi and matsukawa.

iwaizumi because he makes really funny fish jokes about oikawa (yes you arent supposed to be laughing but man theyre funny af, oikawa would usually call you and iwa corny because the jokes aren’t even that funny) and yes its canon that whenever iwaizumi sees an oikawa fish in textbooks, he starts laughing and joking about it.

no explanation needed why you ended up being close to matsukawa.

its obvious after that first meeting ya both would be besties.

same brain cell bros go brrt brrt.

incredibly!! supportive!! I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH

like when you release a new write up about them, Oikawa would usually go, “It’s such an honor to be apart of your first steps, can you sign this?”

dramatic but hella supportive, we stan the gr8 king

“oh, wow, i thought you said you didn’t write before? how come you sound like a professional already?” - Hanamaki

another dramatic best boi.

akira + kindaichi getting shy because they’ve never experienced this yet. So whenever you try to interview them about stats or something for a special issue, they usually end up a stuttering mess

“w-well, L/N-san...”

kentaro slowly warming up to you but still looks like he wants to spike a volleyball at your face 90% of the time but unlike before you’re used to his whole thing already.

“Move, extra.”

“You were great, by the way. That was a powerful spike!”

you may or may not be included in random ramen nights with the team

yes, oikawa buys you your own bowl of ramen

itadakimasu.

he doesn’t mind tho, he really loves how you write them.

so its sort of a thank you for giving the team justice when you write about them.

team says you’re technically part of the team so they make you your own jersey. Now when you watch your games people ask if you’re like the manager or smthng.

“ no :’) “

When they lost against shiratorizawa and karasuno, you were bawling too like you were apart of the team.

this pretty much cheered everyone up despite the loss because your crying face was apparently very funny and memable.

oh right, your article was passed on to the town’s newspaper

it was literally like 7 am on a saturday and your notifs went zoop.

they added you to their group chat and spammed you with pictures of the articles that you wrote.

“...wOW I CAN’T BELIEVE IT?? YOU GOT FRONT PAGE FOR SPORTS???” -Oikawa

“we didn’t even win the tournament but we still get a feature?? thats so cool?? holy shit?? CONGRATS KSKSKS” -matsukawa

lmao idk matsukawa looks like a keyboard smasher tbh idk why

pretty much its normal for you to even start hanging out already outside of the court and after practice to get steam buns.

more chaotic mess and clumsy you running around.

your volleyball sports writing experience wouldn’t be complete until someone accidentally spikes a ball at the back of your head amaright?

ironically, it’s yahaba who does that to you. poor smoll bean.

“wow, you’re dumb.” -kentaro says to you

“ :’)” -you.

“y/N-SAN I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.” -yahaba

overall, you found yourself in a safe haven with the volleyball team and yes, you also cried when the third years graduated.

the third years have a picture with everyone on the team + you with a very red face from all the crying?? once again, you’ve proven yourself to be a meme.

continued to write for them up until graduation.

and its def obvious you kept in touch with all of them after, duh.

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu aoba johsai #haikyuu scenarios #aoba johsai x reader #haikyu headcanons #haikyu scenarios

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xxcureangelxx · 4 years ago

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5, 9, 10, 13, 20, 21, 24, 25, 28, 30-35, 38-42, 44-46, 50, 52, 54, 60-62, 66, 71-74, 86-91, 96, 100! 😊

okay I literally have no clue how old this is and if I'm even taking the questions from the right post but here goes I guess? 🙈

5. What is your favorite Color?

PURPLE

9. How tall are you?

about 1,70 meters or 5'7"

10. What shoe size are you?

size 40-41, I think that's about 8 in US sizes?

13. What talents do you have?

uhhh good question... not sure if it counts but I guess I'm quite good at a lot if things but can't do anything extraordinarily well?

20. Are you religious?

Absolutely not. Due to family history and a lot of other things I'm actually against it a lot but people can do whatever they feel like is right for them as long as they don't harm others with it.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes, quite a lot actually. practically grew up in hospitals as a baby because of kidney issues, broke both my legs with 4 years old, had to revisit for tests a lot during my childhood because of the kidney issue. it calmed down afterwards until I was back in hospital last year because of my terrible mental health and I'm currently in a rehabilitation clinic for it as well.

24. Baths or showers?

Shower's because we don't have a bathtub

25. What color socks are you wearing?

currently none, I love going barefoot, but usually I wear white, gray or black. I know... I'm a bad gay.. no rainbow socks (;ŏ﹏ŏ)

28. What type of music do you like?

you know.... I hate this question with a passion even though I love music so I'll just throw in my yt-playlist here and everyone who's interested can look through it to get a picture xD not sorted in any way and not a conclusive list at all, I just add songs as I find them

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

mostly just one at a time but I've got two different ones. one is the normal fluffy kinda pillow, the other is made of some kinda foam material and rather thin.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I'm always lying on the side! have been doing that since I was a baby too.

32. How big is your house?

compared to what? 🙈 I'd say decent size for 5 people to live in, would have space for 1-2 more if rooms were used differently but definitely not enough to comfortably live with 12 or even more people like my family used to. we've got like 3 proper sleeping rooms (one of which is the attic so not very nice in terms of heat and the staircase is smack in the middle of the room), a kitchen, a dining room, a big living room, a tiny bathroom that barely fits a toilet and shower, and the basement is a mix of storage, electrics and stuff, washing room/utility room and it's got another smaller room that's been turned back into a small workshop but used to be the room of my brother and later my grandmother.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

I guess this is where it shows that I'm german but we usually just eat bread (preferably whole grain) with cheese or slices of salami or ..meat sausage? is that a proper translation? 🤨 idk... it's rather simple really. on the weekend maybe buns and boiled eggs. on the occasion that I'm too tired for it or don't have enough time I eat cereals but it's not very common when I'm at work/school

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

No, and I don't want to

35. Have you ever tried archery?

Yes!! I did last year when I was in the hospital and it was super fun! was quite good at it as well, even for my first try 😤

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

I think about 3 days? if we count "barely unconscious for a few hours" as sleep that is... otherwise no clue...my memory of the bad sleepless time is quite hazy lol

39. Do you have any scars?

yeah, quite a few tbh. got 2 huge ones from surgeries due to my kidney issues, well they look like 2 but it's actually multiple ones since they simply cut open party of the old ones again, tiny hooman apparently have very little skin. then I got some other ones here and there from accidents, general dumbness, etc, like when I cut through my sunday morning bun and almost cut half of the tip of my finger off because my mother sharpened the knife and didn't tell me or that time as a kid I couldn't wait for my ironing pearl pictures to be done and burned myself on the hot iron, mostly stuff like that.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

I mean.. if they're a secret... how would I know? ;) not sure if it counts that it took me months to realize I had a crush on my best friend and the feelings were reciprocated and I was too blind to see the signs?

41. Are you a good liar?

Nope. People actually think I'm lying more often than I lie... so.... :/

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I'm.. honestly not sure what this one means? like, am I able to judge what kind of character a person has after barely meeting them or smth? if so, I'm terrible at it

44. Do you have a strong accent?

in german? nope. in english? hmm hard to judge since I rarely hear myself speak. I think the stuff I do know how to pronounce is mostly okay but since I learned it through reading I'm simply unsure of a lot of pronunciations. 'also'.... I can not for the life of me pronouns that word no matter how many times I hear it... it's kinda become a quirk after some classmates pointed it out to me and I'm incredibly aware how terrible I say the word but.... just can't get rid of it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

45. What is your favorite accent?

I.. actually really love the way my best friend talks? 👉👈 they're french btw. just... typical me for struggling to understand them though, already terrible at it in german too...

46. What is your personality type?

honestly, I don't think I can answer that. I'm big on self loathing and everything's pretty shitty so, no thanks

50. Left or right handed?

Right handed. but does it even count id I'm bad at doing things with that hand too? lol

52. Favorite food?

hmmmm tough question... not the biggest fan of food in general a lot of the time... probably Züricher Geschnetzeltes

54. Are you a clean or a messy person?

Definitely messy. my allergies did not like this post trying to clean and tidy up more often though. my depression does not like this post either

60. Do you talk to yourself?

sometimes. quite a bit when watching movies or if I mess stuff up

61. Do you sing to yourself?

barely. got a lot of bad experiences with that so i keep my singing to a minimum. my shower is a great listener though

62. Are you a good singer?

I was in a choir for a few years when I went to 'middle school' and I had like one solo part once but other than that I can't really say because I barely ever sing in front of people

66. Do you like long or shor hair?

this question is currently my absolute nemesis.. I've got suuuper duper long hair and have had it ever since elementary school and I used to be super happy with it and sometimes I still am happy with it but other days, depending on where I'm at genderwise, I absolutely hate it and I just want to take the closest scissors and cut it all off... currently haven't had the guts to look for new hair styles though... but in other people? or women more specifically? I love long hair 🥺

71. What makes you nervous?

Or the shorter question: what doesn't make me nervous... I'd say pretty much everything has got the potential to make me nervous. I'm an overthinker, anxiety is a big thing for me and ptsd makes me scared of almost everything. so.. yeah... sucks to be me sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Yes, very

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

I try not to but sadly I sometimes do, even if it's not my place to. I really don't like that part and hope I'll be able to learn not to sometime

74. Are you ticklish?

Yes and I hate it 😭

86. What are you allergic to?

again, easier question: what am I not allergic to... it's... a lot... like, really a lot. with the test on the skin of my arm I reacted to every single substance and the more thorough blood test lead to much of the same result. the absolute worst are birch trees (pitty, love those), then the usual pollen of pretty much every tree or flower, all animals with fur or feathers, dust and... yeah list goes on and on, you get the picture... :/

87. Do you keep a journal?

no.. have tried to multiple times in the past but never made it more than a week... too depressing to write and read... the therapist at the rehab clinic is currently forcing me to try a positivity diary for the millionths time, can't even get that done each day even though I'm doing it on my phone and get notifications to do it each evening...

88. What do your parents do?

making my life hell lol.. okay on a serious note, my father was a car electrician, he's retired by now, my mother is a housewife, she used to work different jobs before her first kid, later on she took care of my grandmother who was suffering from dementia, got some money and retirement points for that too.

89. Do you like your age?

I-... I don't know? it's weird because I both feel a lot younger and a lot older than I am rn....

90. What makes you angry?

another tough question... I actually have anger issues in that way that I'm barely capable of feeling anger... used to be worse but I already worked a lot on it in therapy so there's at least some there now... in the past I simply started to cry and felt overwhelmed by sadness whenever I was supposed to feel anger... so I can't tell very well what makes me angry because I first have to realize that I'm feeling anger or more like should be feeling it....

91. Do you like your own name?

Not really, no, but I guess I finally figured out some reasons why.. I've recently started going by a bit of a different name too but only my closest friends know so far and I'm not sure if I'll be using it irl at all..

96. How did you get your name?

I'm still trying to get my mother to admit that she named me after this song but she keeps denying it.. she's a fan of this band so it would have fit.. but she keeps saying she just liked the name, no long thought process behind it..

my chosen name is a bit of a different story. an ex friend I got to know through yt gave me that nickname almost 10 years ago after I complained that you can't make a shorter nickname out of my birthname and it's also the name of s character I like, especially his voice, and... idk it just feels more gender neutral and I simply feel comfortable with it. it just fit.

100. Color of your room?

same as question 5: Purple 🥰 or... well half the walls are purple, the other half is white

phew... can't believe I made it through all of these....

in case people haven't noticed yet, I'm currently kinda getting back into tumblr? I think I've already stayed a lot longer than any times I tried getting back before. it mostly started because we've got super bad wifi at the clinc I'm at rn and reddit takes up waaayy too much mobile data and... idk, I guess I just missed the vibe of tumblr

I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stick around but we'll see

#ask game #answered #I really really do not have any clue how long this has been sitting in my inbox...#the og post was somewhere around december if I saw that correctly (๑•﹏•)#oopsie...#just hope posting goes through snd my 3 hours of hard work weren't for nothing....#edit; posting worked but tumblr messed up the formating...#I'm not gonna bother fixing that because it's late and I need sleep 😭

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sabraeal · 5 years ago

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Rarely Pure & Never Simple, Chapter 5

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Obiyuki Week, Day 5 Wrath | Patience

By May, Shirayuki has been at Clarines High -- that’s what they call it, no matter whose name is above the entrance, for reasons no one has been able to explain to her -- for eight months, and she’d be hard-pressed to name a single thing Tanbarun Academy could hold over it, except, well...

The backpack ban.

(”It’s not that hard to get around,” Kihal tells her, picking at the pastrami in her sub.

“You can just get a messenger bag,” Obi adds around the remains of his Mayflower. Why someone would want stuffing in a sandwich, Shirayuki will never quite know, but from how baggy his band tees are, he could probably use the calories. “You know, the rind is what has all the flavor.”

“I don’t want the flavor, I want prosciutto, but some people don’t know there’s more than one deli meat with a ‘p.’“

Obi shrugs a shoulder, unapologetic. “We don’t have fancy sliced ham where I come from. If you want pork you have to stab the pig yourself.”

“Oh please.” Kihal’s eyelashes flutter as she rolls her eyes, and it strikes her -- Kihal is flirting. With Obi. “As if you’ve ever seen a pig.”

“I’ve seen them on the side of a can,” he says, all smiles, and Kihal sighs, not even noticing how he’s -- he’s not joking. Shirayuki can’t say she knows Obi much more than she knows anyone here, but --

But she knows what it’s like when you don’t want to talk about hard stuff. Real stuff. Not when everyone around you asks about what you did for your Sweet Sixteen, still.

“See?” Kihal jerks a thumb at him. “If this idiot can figure it out, you can too.”

Shirayuki glances between them, first at Kihal’s flat look and then Obi’s bemused one. “But messenger bags are so bad for your spine!”)

English book? Check. A Tale of Two Cities? Check. Her English notebook, with the three-ring binder definitely, for real closed and not about to spill out onto the floor? Check. Pencil case, with all her writing utensils, including the highlighters? Check.

Shirayuki hefts her haul up, arms quivering, and lets out a satisfied sigh. Sure, Obi may call this doubling down on a bad idea, but life’s too long for scoliosis --

“Ms Leon?” A tall shadow falls across her desk, and even if she weren’t still in his classroom, Shirayuki would know it was Mr Haruka from sternness alone. “Stay after class, if you would.”

She jolts upright, a good eight of her fifteen smooth-glide, fine-tipped journal pens -- all different colors, because who can properly color-code with only black, blue and red, for goodness’ sake -- spill right out on the floor. Ah, she forgot to do the Closed Pencil Case check.

“Y-yes, sir!” She looks him right in the eyes, but they give away nothing, and all she can think is -- plagiarism. She somehow forgot that she read something on the internet, put it in her last essay, and now she’s going to get expelled, barely a month before she graduates --

“Ms Leon.” His mouth curls, just the smallest bit, right at one corner. “Please breathe. And do pick up your writing implements.”

“Oh, yes, um.” She hurries to put the pens back in their case, taking surreptitious glances at his Oxfords. “Sorry, that’s -- important. Breathing, I mean.”

She can’t see his face but she could swear -- swear -- he laughs. Just under his breath, the lightest chuckle. “Over this way, if you please.”

She looks up, following his arm until she realizes -- his desk. He’s pointing at his desk. And the small chair to one side of it. “Oh.”

“Shirayuki.” Her eyes jump to him, and -- oh, yes. Mr Haruka is definitely laughing at her. “You’re not in trouble. I promise.”

“Oh, right.” She lets out a giggle that is awkward, too high-pitched to be anything but pure nerves. “Of course not. Why would I be in trouble? I mean--”

“Just sit, Shirayuki.” He takes the chair behind his desk, shaking his head. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Valedictorian?” she squeaks. “You’re telling me I’m valedictorian?”

“No! No.” Mr Haruka waves his hands gently, neck swiveling toward the door, as if that might make her words softer, as if he could stop the sound from leaving the room. “We don’t...do those things here. Because of the children.”

His tone makes it very clear that he is not so worried about the children as the administration is.

“Metrics like that might hurt more the fragile eg-- feelings of our students.” His mouth pulls into a grimace. “So we no longer...rank our high achievers. Instead, we invite the top one percent of our senior class to submit a speech. Which is what I’m doing right now. Inviting you to submit one.”

She stares. “But...I only started at Clarines this year. No one could possibly--”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Ms Leon.” His hands fold neatly on top of his desk calendar, which is all she can look at, because she knows -- she knows if she looks at him when he says what he’s going to say next -- “Your experience is just as valuable and important as anyone’s here, and if you -- my god, are you crying?”

“No,” she sniffs, but hot tracks already burn down her cheeks. He thrusts out a fistful of tissues from the box on his desk, staring at the wall like if he doesn’t look, it can’t possibly be happening. “Maybe.”

“Just...clean yourself up,” he tells her, stern, but when she glances up, he’s blushing. “As I was saying, your grades put you at the top of the class, and even if you’ve only been here a year, clearly you’ve made your mark.”

“Thank you,” she manages, little more than a squeak. “But I still think--”

“And unlike your other classmates, you’re literate,” Haruka tells the wall, as if she’s hardly there. “And you’re a good thinker. Your essays are concise and show more original thought than most any I’ve seen in twenty years of teaching. Besides --” his eyes dart back to her, mouth twitching at the corner -- “the kids say that if you’re the Honor Society Advisor’s favorite student, you’re a shoe-in to be picked.”

She blinks. “But, sir. You’re the advisor for the Honor Society.”

His mouth quivers. “Yes, Shirayuki, I am.”

“But...” Her jaw snicks shut. “Oh. Oh.”

“They’re due at the end of next week,” he tells her. “But you can drop it off on my desk as early as Monday. That is, if you’d like--”

“Yes. I mean, I will.” She jumps up, chair screeching across the tile. “Monday.”

He settles back in his chair, concern flitting across his features. “You know, you can’t take your time--”

“Don’t worry,” she tells him with a smile. “I’ll have it perfect.”

She’s halfway home when she feels the buzz in her pocket, and guilt nearly drags her under when her notification screen light’s up with Obi’s smiling portrait.

(”Did you crop this?” Obi’s grin is too wide for safety, and far too close.

“Y-yes!” His breath is hot on her neck, but she is going to finish this essay if it kills her. Which it might, if he keeps on looking at her like -- like that. “I can’t just --” words abandon her -- “have that show up, when my grandparents are around.”

His grin only turns more wicked. “Really? I think Nanna might appreciate--”

“Well, you could certainly ask her, since she got a real eyeful the last time you were over.” Shirayuki had expected a revision of the six-inch rule for her door, but instead Nanna had only smiled and told her, some things can just stay between us girls.

His eyes pulse wide. “It’s just my chest, kid. Not like I sent you a dick --”

“Please,” she squeal, covering her face. “Don’t.”)

Hey babe, it reads, and her stomach flips, just the smallest bit. Just wanted 2 remind u that i was hanging with Zen n every1 tonight.

Her mental calendar clicks into place, and she realizes -- Friday. It’s Friday. He has his usual pick-up game with friends, and she spends the night studying. Unless she goes with him, but even though things are fine between her and Zen -- good, even -- she doesn’t need to rub all this in his face. Especially when he’s hoping for a good time with his friends.

And if tonight’s Friday...

That’s fine. I have something I need to do this weekend. See you on Monday!

Instead of studying -- which she should do, really; finals are coming up in another week -- she spends the night googling things like best graduation speeches, and best HIGH SCHOOL graduation speeches, and best high school graduation speeches by new students not funny. After her nine or tenth compilation video she cuts herself off.

Three days to write a speech. It has to be short, but not too short; sweet, but not saccharine; and funny. Which she can’t do, so she’ll just settle for poignant instead.

With a few short taps, her phone is silenced. No interruptions. Just a weekend with her and a word processor, hoping something like wisdom comes out.

She can do this.

“Shirayuki?”

She startles, and it’s only Nanna’s hand that keeps her from face-planting right into the carpet. She’d fallen asleep, right here at the desk, and --

The speech.

Her neck swivels so fast it makes a painful crack, but there it is, on the screen --

“Oh my gosh,” she breathes. “It’s gibberish.”

“You were on the keyboard, dear,” Nanna sighs, leaning over her. She clicks the cursor and drags all the way up the screen, scrolling past almost three pages of nonsense to --

“Oh, oh!” She grips the edge of the desk. “It’s all there. It’s done!”

“Good girl.” Nanna pats her head, giving her a good scritch at the crown, like she always does. “But Obi’s on the horn.”

“The--?” She blinks, looking up at the cordless cradled against her cardigan. “He called the house?”

“He called the house,” Nanna agrees, very slow, like she’s afraid the implication might miss her. “And he sounds like he’s in a state.”

“Why wouldn’t he just call--?” Shes click her phone on, and the face of it proudly proclaims Obi: 12 missed calls, followed by a run of cut-off text messages. “Oh no.”

She holds her hand out, and Nanna drops the receiver into it. “Obi? Is something -- is something wrong?“

He lets out a laugh but it sounds -- ragged. “I don’t know, is there?”

She blinks. “Should I know?”

“Shirayuki.” His voice is tight, tense. “You haven’t talked to me since Thursday.”

“What? But I--?” She clamps down hard as she looks at their texts.

That’s fine. I have something I need to do this weekend. See you on Monday! still sits above her keyboard, unsent. Above it is, well --

hey is everything okay? kid is something up? you arent picking up your phone. please call me are you angry at me?

She blinks at that one. What could she possibly --

Oh no. Thursday.

(The applause is still rolling from the Daily Double, but Shirayuki can barely remember what the answer is, let alone the question when Obi’s touching her like this, his skirt up around her hips and his fingers deep inside her.

“It better not be College Jeopardy,” Lata calls out from the foyer, door closing behind him, but it’s too late, far too late to do more than stare as he walks into the room, face screwed up in annoyance. “I refuse to watch another night that makes the New York Times crossword look like a Gordian--”

Obi’s back is to him, so it’s Shirayuki that sees his gaze fall on it, then on the shirt discarded on the coffee table and the panties on the carpet, little banana splits smiling up at the plaster ceiling, and at last on the GWU shirt on the latest contestant before he turns on his heel and walks right of the room.)

please call me. we can work this out i promise i can do better

“Oh my gosh, Obi,” she breathes. There’s more but she -- she can’t look at that. Not right now. “I’m so sorry. I thought I had -- my text didn’t send!”

The silence from his end is deafening. “Your what?”

“I’ve been working on a project all weekend,” she admits, voice shaking. “And I silenced my phone so I could, you know, avoid distractions. I just -- I thought I pressed send, but I didn’t, and I’m -- I’m so sorry!”

There’s a pause, and then he must have put his phone down because she can hear him roaring with laughter, just...muted.

“Kid, kid,” he breathes, louder this time, brighter. “You are...something else.”

She’s glad he can’t see her, because he’d definitely call this painful red cute. “I...I guess.”

“Well?” She can almost see his eyebrows raising. “Did you finish?”

“Oh! Yes!” She spins, clicking at the doc. “I’m -- I’m just printing it out now.”

“So...” His voice slides straight into that easy purr, the one that makes her thighs clench just thinking about it. “...You don’t need to avoid distractions anymore?”

Even with all -- that, she still nearly says, I guess not, as if she hasn’t picked up his subtle hints, but her brain catches up quicker than her mouth. She snaps her teeth over the words, giving herself a breath to think.

“Finals are next week,” she says carefully, watching the door. She can’t see Nanna, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t lurking in the hall, waiting to catch her. “You need to study, don’t you?”

His grin is practically audible. “Come over here. Lyrias’s finals are this week, so Lata left early.”

She presses her thighs together, and -- three days. It’s been three days.

“I’ll be over in a bit,” she tells him, all in a rush. “Make sure you come up with a study plan.”

“Oh, trust me,” he rumbles. “I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

“All right, my worst subject is gonna be English, because I forcibly forgot Catcher in the Rye, and now I gotta relearn it,” Obi tells her, and -- and he whips out a piece of paper, written in no less than five colors, and drops it in her lap. “But after that is chem. I don’t know shit about how orbitals work.”

“Oh!” She stares down, squinting at the chicken scratch that is just barely more legible than usual. Never has she been less excited by color-coding. “You actually...you actually made a plan.”

“These are the last set of finals I’m ever going to take in high school,” he tells her, teeth flashing behind his lips. “Hopefully. So I gotta -- gotta make it good right?”

I thought you wanted to make out, sits right on the tip of her tongue, but she looks at him, grinning at her so hard it crinkles his eyes, finally excited and she --

“Right.” She takes out her own, and props them side-by-side on his night table, edges curling in on one another. “Let’s get to work then.”

There’s a flaw in her plan.

Her palms sweat around the folder she holds in them, fingers sticking with an awkward squich as she taps them on the plastic. She had plans for today. Big plans. Plans that involved a mirror and a red pen, but now --

“Obi.”

He looks up from his notes, bubbly p-bonds blooming across the page, and her breath catches right in her chest. It’s soft yet -- yet hungry, molten and knowing, and it’s exactly how he looks right before he kisses her.

Shirayuki can ignore that though. She has -- business.

“Mm?” he hums, and that -- that’s trouble right there, the way he leans in smelling all nice --

Focus! Focus. That��s what she needs to do. “I need you to help me with something.”

This isn’t a good idea, not when this is the first time they’ve had time to be alone, just the two of them, in days, but -- it’s important.

His mouth curls, and oh, maybe she needs to be a little clearer about what she means by help --

“Well, kid?” he rumbles, leaning his chin on his hand. “I’m all ears.”

There isn’t enough air in this room.

That -- that’s the problem here. It’s got to be almost eighty out there, and sure, Lata’s house has central air, but Obi’s just...covered up a vent. That’s why she’s sweating, gasping for each breath like she’s run uphill; that’s why she’s so light-headed she could faint, not --

“Oh, god,” Shirayuki moans, clutching at his back, skin slick beneath her fingertips. “Please...”

-- Not anything to do with what he’s doing between her legs. Oh no, all this quivering just -- just because they need to open a window.

“What was that?” Obi rumbles, grinning against her neck. He lifts her hips, just a little, so that her ass tilts up on his knees, and then he slides his fingers deeper, just where she wants them --

“Holy--”

“I can’t hear you,” he says, too innocent, nipping right at the curve of her jaw. His hand stills, just short of where she needs him. “Maybe you don’t like--?”

Her fingers band around his wrist, showing him just what she’d like. Still he doesn’t do the -- the thing; touching her like this is all fine and good, but sometimes he does this...fluttery thing inside, and she --

“Did you want this?” he asks, half-breathless, and his fingers move. Stars bloom in her vision, bright against the black of her eyelids, and --

Well, she doesn’t have any complaints about it, that’s for sure.

“Stop teasing.” she pants, hips raising to chase his hand. “Just--”

Oh, it’s -- it’s very hard to keep any sort of thoughts in his head while he’s -- he’s doing things.

“Teasing?” It’s an inquisitive rumble right above her heart, eyebrows lifting in the worst impression of surprise she’s ever seen. “I can’t do what you want if you don’t tell me what you need...”

“You’re doing just -- haaah -- fine on your own,” she assures him, back arching off the bed.

“I need encouragement.”

She lifts her head, and the look he gives her is, well -- trouble. “I’m not going to -- to --”

“Scream?” he offers, curling his fingers in a way that makes that seem like a more probably eventuality than it did a minute ago. “I don’t see why not.”

Her face is already flushed from -- from things, but she feels it go darker, chest practically burning up. “What if -- if -- Lata--”

She can’t even finish the thought. She knows far too well what would happen. It will be nothing short of a miracle if she ever manages to look him in the eye again.

“Lata is hours away,” he tells her, lifting his head so that honeyed gaze can bear down into hers, “and you’ll be living in a dorm room soon. So you should take advantage--” he grins as she gasps, his fingers touching her just where he needs him -- “of the fact.”

She means to argue the point, really she does, but he wraps and arm around her waist, lifting her upright into his lap, and -- well, she gives him exactly what he wants.

“Hnn-aah.” Knees jellied, thighs quivering still, Shirayuki tips back with a sigh, Obi’s mattress catching her better than she can her breath.

“Well.” His fingers shimmer with -- with her as he raises them, giving them a thoughtful glance. It’s all for show; she knows before he even moves that he’ll wrap his lips around them, sucking off her taste as if he can’t get enough.

It doesn’t stop her helpless whine when they disappear into his mouth, long lashes fluttering against his cheek. It’s not fair that he looks so good doing -- doing that. “Obi!”

“I liked it.”

For a long minute, she stares, halfway to saying, I know you did, but --

“Oh!” She laughs, shaking her head on his pillow. It smells like him, fresh and earthy. “The speech! Were you even listening?”

“Of course.” He looks almost affronted that she doubts it. “I obviously found it inspiring.”

He settles beside her, his front pressed to her side, and his -- his dick pokes her hip, as if it’s proving his point. Which, all right, it kind of is, but -- but that’s beside the point.

“I should have known better.” She rolls up onto her side, letting it dig into her belly, and she just catches the slight flutter of his eyelashes, the hitch in his breath. “It’s been three days. Expecting you to focus was a big ask.”

“I did focus.” His hips squirm, rubbing up against hers. Her panties are -- well, somewhere, and his fly is open for comfort and she -- she’s a little distracted. By his grin, that was the plan. “I’m still very focused.”

“I get it, I get it,” she laughs, leaning into his chest, closing the space between them with a kiss. It’s quick, affection rather than desire, but every kiss with Obi turns into something that lingers, that leaves her a little breathless when she pulls away. “But really, did you--?”

“I loved it, kid, really.” He leans his forehead against hers, rubbing noses with a grin. “I wasn’t just thinking about whether you had tights on or not.”

She lets her silence do the talking on that one. Mostly because if she said anything, it would come out less like, I appreciate your attraction, but I am more than just what’s between my legs, and more like, I plan what I wear depending on whether or not I think we’ll have time to fool around.

Shirayuki bites back a sigh. I would be nice if all her feminist ideology didn’t crumble the second he looked at her.

His smile softens, fingers reaching out to tuck some errant flyaways behind her ear. “You did great, kid. They’ll love it.”

She leans into his touch, just the littlest bit, and maybe --

Maybe the reason she doesn’t feel like she has to aggressively remind him to respect her is because he already does.

“I especially liked that part about me.”

She’s already flushed, but her cheeks scale up to a five-alarm fire. “It wasn’t about you! It was about--”

“I know, I know, everyone you met here.” He smooths a hand over the top of her head, fingers trailing down to tangle at her nape and draw her close. Lips brush right between her brows, smoothing away the crinkle there. “Don’t worry, kid, I know I’m not the only important person in your life.”

Obi’s right, of course -- it’s not like she just emerged fully-formed from the ether at the beginning of senior year, just to be the girl he liked. She has her grandparents, and the few friends she’s kept from her old school, Zen and Kiki and Mistuhide, Kihal, Ryuu and Higata and the rest of the mathletes --

Wow, that’s a lot more people than she even thought.

But even still, there’s something in the way he says it, not even sad or resigned but -- but so certain he’s not anywhere at the top of the list and fine with it, that makes her blurt out, “Well, I mean, it is mostly about you.”

The flat of his teeth presses against her skin, and she doesn’t need to look at him to know how immensely pleased she’s made him, not when his -- his dick twitches, catching the underside of her belly.

“Do you need to--” even after all this time, she still doesn’t know quite how to ask -- “handle that?”

His eyebrows dip in confusion, and she wriggles her hips, not subtle in the least.

A laugh huffs out of him, his forehead slipping from hers to bury itself in the crook of her neck. She feels him shaking against her, but it takes her a good long minute to realize it’s a -- a shake. A no.

“No. Well--” she feels his lips curl against her skin, which is just doing nothing for her concentration right now -- “eventually. But it can wait.”

She opens her mouth to protest -- it’s not fair that she makes him wait on top of everything else -- but he just says, “I like being with you like this. You know, after.”

A breath catches tight in her chest. She does know; there’s something nice about him being close as she comes down, as the tingle fades from her body and leaves a bone-deep relaxation behind. Sometimes, when she lays there, trying to catch herself against his shoulder, she thinks about how nice it might be for there to be nothing between them, for their touches to be skin-to-skin and for him to be breathless too --

He lifts her arm up and lets it drop, boneless, to the bed. “You get all floppy. It’s really fucking cute.”

He mouth pulls thin, giving him the most forbidding glare she can dredge up, the most scolding she can do in silence --

And he pulls back, taking it in with a smile that is just -- fond. Content. His palm cups the back of her head, and he draws her close, tucking her head under his chin. He’s so close, so silent, that she can hear his heart beat in his chest, hear the breath fill and empty his lungs.

He’s too good to her.

Her fingers curl against his chest, skin still slick beneath them, and she has to take a moment to calm herself, to think, because it’s just -- a lot. So much.

She’s never dated anyone before, not even at her old school, but she knows that this is different. Zen never made her chest feel tight like this, like she’s too small in a single body, like even skin is too much of a barrier between them. That sometimes, if she tried hard enough, she wouldn’t even need to speak to have him know what she was thinking.

It’s intense. More than she thought, and if he were any other boy --

Well, if he were any other boy, he would already be in the bathroom, finishing himself off. If he were any other boy, he would have told her she needs to stop being so shy about dicks if she likes rubbing up against them so much.

But he doesn’t. It doesn’t even seem to bother him, which just -- it has to be fake.

Not that she’s complaining. It’s only --

Sure, it’s just about sex now. But she can’t help but wonder about if something was wrong -- really wrong -- whether he’d tell her or just -- do this, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. She’s good at reading him now, but what about when they don’t see each other every day, when she can’t just look at him to tell if there’s a problem--?

“How are we going to make this work?” she asks his throat, pulse racing against her lips.

He jerks against her like she’s yanked his strings. “What do you mean?”

“When I’m at Lyrias and you’re here.” She pushes back, just in time to see the fear in his eyes fade to concern, fade to certainty. “What if it’s not enough? What if--?”

“I’m going to visit.” He cards his fingers through her hair, the blunt edges of his nails scraping down her scalp in a way that’s nearly as soothing as his voice. “Remember? Once every two weeks, and I’ll stay the whole weekend, if your roommate doesn’t mind. And we can skype as much as you want. And I promise I’ll text you as obnoxiously as I do now.”

“So every two minutes?” she teases, leaning her forehead against his lips.

She can feel his smile against her hairline. “Mm, no. Too long. How about every minute?”

“Obi--”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He squeezes her close. “Every five.”

Her hands are trapped against his chest, but she’s not above giving a good pinch. Even still, he just laughs, batting her hands away.

“I’m serious, Obi! We see each other every day, and then we just..won’t.” She squirms, tucking herself more firmly under his chin. It’s hard enough to say this out loud, never mind look at him while she’s doing it. “What if...what if...”

What if you get bored of me? She would never insult him by saying it, by implying that between them, he would somehow be the weak link, but -- it’s all she can think about. Hours away, only seeing her every two weeks, and who knows what time she’ll have outside of her course work to give him, and what time he’ll have with school and a job to give her --

Obi’s hand smooths down her back, broad and warm, and she just -- breathes.

“Shirayuki,” he says, her name rumbling fondly under her ear. “Haven’t I told you? You’re the only one who does it for me.”

She means to laugh, but it gasps out like wounded honk. “You can’t just keep saying that.”

“Why not?” For once, he sounds almost frustrated. “It’s true.”

It’s the earnestness that hurts. He’s so sure, and yet -- yet --

She wiggles her hips against his, feeling only the sharp jut of his pelvis. “It doesn’t feel like I’m doing it for you.”

Obi stares at her for a long moment, and then a laugh huffs out of him, his cheeks pink over bronze.

“Well, not right now.” His fingers drag against her scalp, burying themselves in the hair at her nape. “We’re having a serious conversation, I need all that blood. But give me a few minutes...”

The invitation is implicit, and she want to take it -- she means to take it, but --

She shakes her head. “One day you’ll meet a girl who isn’t afraid of penises, and then--”

“I’ve met plenty of girl who were very enthusiastic about penises.” His eyes meet hers as their foreheads touch. “And I still only want you.”

She lets out a sigh, closing her eyes. It would be nice to be able to believe that. “Be serious.”

“About you? Always.” For a breath he just lays there, head pressed against hers, but it doesn’t last. He shifts, pulling back, tilting her chin up so that their eyes meet. “Listen, I get that you haven’t done this whole long distance thing before. I haven’t either. I mean, fuck, kid, I haven’t really done this whole dating thing at all. I’m sure I’ll fuck up somewhere, but it won’t be by thinking the grass is greener on the other side, believe me.”

Her palms press flat against his chest, his heart racing beneath the, “Obi, I didn’t mean to--”

“But if you’re worried about us not being to do other stuff--” he waggles his eyebrows, making crystal clear just what sort of other stuff he’s talking about -- “we can always do skype sex.”

She stares, wondering if she’s having a stroke. “We can what?”

“You know.” His lips twitch. “When you skype each other, and then you watch each other get off.”

“I...” She blinks. “At the same time?”

“I’m mean, I’m a little fuzzy on the details here, but yeah.” His hand smooths down her spine, resting heavy just above her butt. It takes superhuman effort not to squirm back, not to press into it. “That’s typically how these things go.”

“And that...” She licks her lips, but her mouth is already dry. “That would work for you?”

He stiffens under her hands, eyes pulsing wide. “What, seeing you touch yourself? Getting all wet for me?” His hand urges her closer, and she can feel him hard against her thigh. “Watch you get all flushed because you’re hot for me? Think about how it could be me getting you that way, how I’d touch you to make you come?”

To her complete humiliation, she whimpers.

“Yeah,” he breathes, gazes fixed her hers. “I think that would work for me just fine.”

“O-oh,” she squeak, face burning. “Oh.”

His lips curl as he looks at her, as he leans close and rumbles, “Wouldn’t that work for you? Watching me touch myself, knowing I’m hard because you look so incredible when you come?”

Her nails scrape against his chest, earning her a hiss that is -- is not helping with the thinking, here.

That -- that might be okay. Seeings a penis not in person, but through a screen. Not that it’s really helped with google, but -- if it was Obi’s, if it was because she --

“Yes.” He twitches hard against her, and she ducks her head, flushed. “I mean, yes, but ...”

“But..?” he hums, too amused.

“I just...” I only there was a way to say these things without actually having to say them, like Obi does. Some innuendo that could make the problem clear without being so -- so obvious. “I’m not very good at, um, being alone. Like that.”

“Oh, really?” The hardness is impossible to ignore now. “Well, we have an entire summer, kid. Plenty of time for practice sets.”

“What, like summer school for m-m---” she grits her teeth--- “touching myself?”

“Why not?” His grin stretched across her temple. “You seem like the sort of girl who likes to get hot for teacher---”

Duchess Prettymane ends that particular vein of conversation.

“What have we said about you being nicer to your friends?” he says, catching Tiny Frog before he can join the pile surrounding Obi’s head. “If that doesn’t float on the motion of your ocean, I could always just get you a...graduation gift.”

For a long moment, she’s only confused; after all, she’s already looked in to getting him one, and it’s not like she was expecting one from him, but it wasn’t out of the realm of --

She catches his grin, the heat in his eye. Oh. Oh. Graduation gift. The kind she would not be opening in front of Grandad and Nanna.

“Obi!”

“What?” His grin is far too attractive, this close. “It would be very thoughtful. I would think very, very hard about what kind you might like--”

“Kind?” she yelps. “I thought there were, you know, just...sizes.”

“Oh, kid.” He bends close, lips brushing over hers. “Can’t start you off with some big dragon dick. Gotta work you up to it.” His hand skims over her hip, leaving a searing trail where each finger touches, lifting her leg to wrap around his waist. “I was thinking of one of those little egg ones, the king that just sit here--”

She whines at his touch, hips bucking against his as two of his fingers brush just over her clit. She came only a few minutes ago, but she’s wet again, hands clutching at his biceps as he moves those fingers just so --

“That,” she gasps, nails digging into his skin. “That might be okay.”

His jaw drops, eyes blowing wide, and --

Well, she loses a few minutes.

“All right,” he huffs, rolling away from her, fingers still slick. “This is definitely becoming a…ah….pressing issue.”

Her heart squeeze in her chest, but when she looks at him, he only gestures to where – where he is hard against his boxers, to a point that looks nearly painful.

“Oh!” She sits up. “Right.”

He gives her a weak smile. “If you would excuse me…”

He brushes past her getting off the bed, and for a moment she nearly stops him, nearly tells him to stay and pull off those jeans, to let her see him for once –

But she just presses her lips together and calls out, “Have fun?”

Obi tosses her a mischievous grin over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry, Kid. I plan to.”

#obiyukiweek19 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #lemon #my fic #rarely pure and never simple #this was going to cover all the way up to the graduation #but I realized that I didn't explain the speech thing AT ALL in that version #so now you gets a couple weeks before #also yes these idiots are getting caught all over the place #but Nanna was a kid once #and Lata just does not need to be involved #ever #do what you want it was college week anyway

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nagichi-boop · 3 years ago

Note

Welcome back home. I do hope its not as bad as you feel it will be..and if it is then I hope things get better as soon as possible:(

I haven't been that active lately cuz i was/still am, stuck in a hyperfixation loop lol.

🪀Anon

Hey anon! It’s been a hot minute - hope you’re doing okay. I’m now curious what hyperfixation loop you’re stuck in but I also don’t wanna pry.

Thank you. I honestly hope so too. It just kinda sucks that I managed to find myself in a scenario even worse than I imagined. (I’ll write more about it under the read more.)

Oh also, I’m still kinda working on that art thing you sent. Sorry it’s taking so long. ;;

tw // s*lf harm & su*cidal ideation

I’ll do my best to explain why this sucks, but I’m guessing it’ll sound completely unreasonable and underwhelming.

So I’m currently on a benefits schemed called Universal Credit (which I’ll call UC), which is essentially a service the government has to give you money while you are unemployed and looking for work, with the expectations you’ll do everything you can to look for work. As a baseline, you’re expecting to do “job seeking activities” for 35 hours a week. This includes things like writing cover letters, applying for jobs, attending interviews - basically anything that’s related to looking for work. This also includes attending appointments for UC (this’ll become important later). The 35 hours a week is also the expectation of the hours of work you’ll look for/accept.

If you need other accommodations because of a health condition, you need something called a fit note. This is a medical sign off from the doctor to say that the person either needs accommodations (e.g. reduced hours for work search/working) or a complete sign off from working (aka not doing any work search/working). The problem is that these fit notes only usually cover about a month and you’re not allowed any gaps in the fit notes or else the UC system will see you as fit to work again. So for example, my last fit note ended on 3rd September, but I got my new fit note starting 1st September to make sure there were no gaps.

When you declare a fit note, initially you’re just asked to say what date it covers from/to and what medical centre/doctor provided the fit note. But until your work coach asks for it, there’s no way to upload the document of your fit note. So I had declared my fit notes and that was that. Easy enough, right? Haha.

So midway through September I’m just minding my own business and suddenly I get a notification to say that I had an appointment booked with my work coach (who was someone I’d never heard of). And I freaked out because I wasn’t expecting to have appointments while I had a fit note. I hadn’t been looking for work because of that and so I would have had nothing to report to my work coach. The other problem was the appointment was booked for when I was on holiday, so I couldn’t have attended. I got so anxious that I cut myself.

I’d also like to quickly mention a flaw with UC. They don’t seem to account for people having holidays. If it wasn’t for me having a fit note, I’d have been expected to continue the 35 hours a week of job hunting. It’s stupid but that’s how the system works. :/

I then checked my account again, wondering why I was booked for an appointment while I had a fit note and I realised something. For some reason, someone had accepted the first fit note like a week after it had expired, but then rejected the second one. No reasons given.

I entered a message in my journal, mentioning I’d be away. The work coach rather bluntly told me I’d be expected to attend and then asked why I wouldn’t be around, so I said I was on holiday. I also asked why my fit note had been rejected, then they asked me to upload this. Why they couldn’t have done this to begin with is beyond me, but I uploaded my document and waited.

I hear nothing. Thursday 17th rolls around, the day of my expected appointment, and I’ve not been told what is happening. I had no idea if they had switched the appointment to a phone appointment, moved the appointment or cancelled it. 30 minutes before my appointment my fit note is accepted.

10 minutes before my appointment, I am marked as “failed to attend”. This sucks because it means if I miss another appointment, I will have reduced pay. The auto message on the notification said that I needed to say why I didn’t show and to rebook my appointment.

But here’s the thing. My work coach had already rebooked the appointment for the beginning of October AND they know why I didn’t attend. But they didn’t tell me anything? Like I had no idea whether I still needed to do those two things? So my dad told me to leave it until after my holiday.

I thought this was bad enough, but my parents told me that according to their research, I could only have 2 sick periods, which meant I couldn’t claim a third month of sick leave. I’m not entirely sure what would happen if I tried to claim another month - idk if they’d send me to a work capability assessment (where they figure out whether you’re capable of working or you need adjustments to work), accept the fit note, deny the fit note or stop paying me.

…so I wrote the above a few days ago and now I have more to add. I’ll try and keep it short and sweet cuz I’ve already written a lot. I was on holiday until yesterday and today is my first day back. At 11am I get a message from my dad about work and literally every time he sees me he is either asking if I’ve applied to the jobs he sent or telling me how perfect it would be for me. I actually cut myself cuz I felt so anxious and stress. Anyways tonight I ended up having a chat with my parents and it seems their solution to all of my problems is work. Like they think I was more social and happier while I was at work. I got angry so I threw the coaster I was playing with, yelled a bit and then left the room crying. So.

I have no idea what to do anymore. I’m pretty hopeless but it is what it is I guess. Honestly I feel like I either have to suck it up or die.

#🪀anon #vent #rant #long post #tw self harm #tw suicidal ideation #nagichi asks

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god7072therescue · 7 years ago

Text

Diary Head Cannon

Hey guys! Now it is Saeyoung’s turn to find MC’s diary, this is going to be another long one so it is going to have a part two for sure! I hope you guys enjoy!!

@whisperbinder thanks for giving me such a fun request!

A/N: Also, there is going to be a lot of profanity because I sense Saeyoung has a potty mouth even though he is a devout catholic. He is a spy for a reason. There will also be NSFW themes ahead so enjoy~

Saeyoung was peacefully finishing up his work as he takes another sip of his phd pepper as he vowed to one day switch to water

thats never going to happen

He leaned back and leaned against the chair so he could pop his back, then his neck, then his hands before he hunched back over his key board to continue his work.He always got so damn stiff

when he worked for hours like thatHe noticed that the popping of his knuckles basically echoed through out the room as he stared at his screen It was quiet in the bunker

Too quiet.

He typically listened to music as he worked but he didn’t need to recently because MC would crank the music up so loud over his speakers in the living room no matter what she was doing in there. He would always listen to whatever genre she played over the speakers

whether he enjoyed it or not

He knew Saeran went out to get some ice cream because he ran out again

But that didn’t answer the real question here

Where in the hell is MC?

He rose from his chair while shutting the laptop down before he decided to go and see if he could find MC sleeping anywhere around the bunker

He grabbed his phone with out much thought and put it in his pocket It was a common occurrence since her sleep schedule was just as fucked up as his because she refused to even think about going to bed with out him

It still didn’t keep him from getting worried though

In order to keep the aura light hearted, he grabbed a bag of Honey Buddha Chips and began to shake them as he walked around the bunker “Here, MC, come out of hiding, I have a treat for you!”

He made his tone light as he continued the search for MC, growing a little more panicked because she was not responding

Thank god Vanderwood came by the night before, he didn’t have to worry about her being trapped under a mountain of clothes

the fact that Saeyoung has to worry about that;;;

He finally reaches his room and opens the door to find that there are clothes e v e r y w h e r e

He begins to panic because it looks like there has been a struggle. How in the hell could anyone have gotten in?!

He goes further into the room to investigate all while taking his phone out to try and call her.

When the screen lights up he notices that he has a text notification from MC He immediately stops what he is doing and looks at it to make sure that it is recent

“I’m going out to have lunch with my parents. They want to meet you soon! I will bring home left overs to you can have some REAL food in your system. See you in a couple of hours!”

She ended the text in a bunch of kissy emojis…oh

what a dumbass

He silently berates himself for not thinking about checking his phone FIRST but he knew that whenever MC was involved he always jumped to the worst conclusion due to past events

I honestly don’t blame you Saeyoung;;;

He chuckles at her attempt to get him on a healthier diet then shoves his phone back into his pocket. Although he hated it when MC left the apartment alone, he felt much better knowing that she was with her parents and she had her taser with her

He also figured all of her clothes were strewn everywhere because she was running late and she couldn’t decide on what to weartypical MC;;;

But damn did he love her

He was about to walk out of the room to go back to work when something caught his eye.It was a notebook.

Just a plain black notebook.

Saeyoung had no recollection of this.

So what does his nosy ass do?

He reads it, of course.

He picks the book up and sits down on the bed after pushing some of MC’s clothes off so he could have some room to sit comfortably.

He flips it open to the first page and sees a date written at the top in MC’s hand writing

Huh?? Was this her diary???

Oh he shouldn’t read this it’s private;;;

He begins to close the journal but then he snaps it back open.

Saeyoung is a curious and weak man when it comes to MC

He is startled when he sees that it begins way before she joined the RFA

It began when she was a senior in high school

He can’t help but read through the first half of the journal in amusement because teenager MC was cute as hell

He had to keep himself from burning the page about prom night;;;

And then he got to her college years and he read about her first real boyfriend and break up

He had to keep himself from finding the fucker and destroying his life

And then he got to the day she joined the RFA He had not noticed that he had already spent and hour skimming through her journal

He was too entranced on finally being able to get into MC’s head

A lot of her mannerisms and habits made sense to him now that he had gotten a first hand glimpse into her past

But she still did something weird as fuck things for no reason which is one of the many reasons why he loves her

He was fascinated at her high opinions about each of the RFA members. He had such high opinions of each of the members especially him

Why him?? Because she felt like he was the only one who understood her.

Who understood her humor

Her emotions

Everything and he was sweet in his own way

God, Saeyoung felt the exact same way. He still does.

He cannot help the tightening in the back of his throat when he reaches the days he was being a complete dick to her

he could still see the tear stains that she tried desperately to hide from him when they were stuck in that apartment together.

But he could her her muffled sobs into the pillow

it just crushed his heart a little more reading her thoughts she never blamed him, she only wanted to help and she refused to give up no matter how much he hurt her

What in the hell did he do to deserve her?

Nothing

But he was too selfish to let her go

He couldn’t help but smile when he read the part when he made her the damn robo cat. He didn’t know that she liked it that much

then he continued to read until the night in the cabin, after she supported him for the majority of the time when he was supposed to be supporting her

He thought that his feelings were the only ones that were so intense at the end of the eleven days

God, was he wrong.

MC loved him just as much as he loved her and he could not wrap his mind around it. It just made him love her even more.

He could feel himself choking up at all of the emotions crashing around in him at the moment

we all know Saeyoung is a cry baby when it comes to MC

But his thoughts all go blank when he gets to the page that was about that night in the cabin

He could feel his face turning a bright shade of red when he noticed the length of the pages

It began in her point of view of how thankful she was that she could spend the night with him even though she knew she might literally die the next day

Then she put literal quotes from seven and how they shook her to the core

Then she began to describe the events that transpired in vivid detail

Dear heavenly father, Bless me for I HAVE SINNED

Saeyoung could not believe what he was reading. He was reading every word with great concentration as she wrote about what she liked about the night

Which was literallyeverything

She wrote about his touch, how he looked over her, how his hands drove her completely wild, how she loved how his lips tasted of her, how she loved the taste of him, how she felt so full with him inside of her, how much she loved feeling so connected to him

How that was literally the best night of her life

Saeyoung didn’t even realize he had been gripping his cross, but he was, to the point his knuckles were white

He felt like his body was on fire he was so hot at the remembrance of that night

He couldn’t help the growing erection in his pants

especially when he read the last few sentences on the page saying the only regret she had from that night was that they had to stop so soon

She wanted to go all night, but knew they needed their rest

Saeyoung was jolted out of his thoughts and flung the journal against the wall in surprise when he heard the front door open as MC called out,

“Saeyoung? I’m home!! I brought home some of your favorites!!” He could hear the smile in her voice as removed her shoes at the door.

“Baby? Where are you?

“…..are you going to attack me with a water gun again?”

He could hear the amusement in her voice, but he was actually just wondering how in the hell he was going to deal with the erection in his pants

He quickly tucked it up into his wait band of his pants when he heard her turn the knob to their bedroom and he gives her a forced grin, “Hey baby!!”

She looks suspicious at his forced tone and grows concerned, “Hey, are you alright?”

He quickly nods and grabs her by the arms so he can hold her in a tight embrace for a moment before he pulls away, “I was actually about to head out.”

MC looks at him in confusion, “Okay, is it for a mission? I just brought home dinner but I can stick it in the oven for when you get back.”

God, you have blessed me with an angel.

“I was actually about to go to confession.”

“Confession?”

“Yes, I’ll be back in about an hour, okay? I forgot to go this week!”

MC just looks at him in confusion but just nods “….alright.”

MC has learned no to question certain things when it comes to Saeyoung;;;

He swiftly kisses her on the lips then he turns on the heel and rushes out of the door.

he got into his car and sped off towards the church because dear GOD

did this boy need Jesus.

So, there will indeed be a part two!! I hope you enjoy!! @whisperbinder Enjoy!

#Okay hopefully this one works #please god

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along-the-way · 5 years ago

Text

Almost had an anxiety attack at like 11:15pm, wrote this while listening to Hozier

I stood out in the rain tonight. Just let it hit the top of my head. I tried to breathe in the damp air but it was like my lungs were closed for business. I was really cold. But I didn’t want to go back inside. I only did because I didn’t want my mom to worry. The stupid Ring alarm beeps every time I open an exterior door.

I haven’t felt this scared in a long time. Not “scared” necessarily. Just incredibly unsettled. It’s like holding on to a railing of the building that is collapsing. But it hasn’t started collapsing yet. But my brain mistakes a stray hair for a crack in the walls. The vibration of a cellphone becomes an earthquake. The last time it was this bad was maybe a year ago? Maybe as far back at before I was on meds? I used to lay in my dorm bed, every night not doing anything. Maybe watching a movie for 15 minutes and getting distracted by whatever was making me anxious. Just laying there, wrapped in blankets. Too scared to find people to be friends with, sometimes too scared to go to class, a lot of times too scared to eat. And that was today. Too scared to get out of bed. Too scared to get myself food until like 7: 00pm. Too scared to call someone who might understand. Too scared to even leave my room.

And I hate to admit that.

How do I tell the kid from school who said they admired how I was so open about my anxiety that I couldn’t get out of bed today? This kid wrote me an anonymous letter and bought me a fucking candle. I can only joke about being anxious so much before it starts to hurt that no one asks me if I’m okay. Because I’m not and sometimes I think people don’t actually believe me or care. But that might also be a side effect of the anxiety. I don’t want to be that self-diagnosing bitch saying it’s paranoia but it feels like it.

How do I convince my mom that it’s no one else’s fault? I tried to talk to her about how I’m feeling and it just becomes about her. Every time. I told her I’m trying not to be crazy, not to ask for validation or affirmation all the time and she just shrugged and said, “well, we are crazy. We’re the same.” and I just. I wanted to scream. I don’t want to be like this. This is why I can’t keep friends. This is why I struggle with school and work. Because I learned to need constant reassurance that I’m not a failure from her. Obviously not just from her, that’s unfair. But I watched her all my life like that. I don’t want to have to ask everyone I care about to tell me constantly that they care about me too. I want to be sure enough of myself and trust people enough to not have to. It’s just really hard to try to unlearn that when she’s in my ear telling me that it doesn’t get better. That I need to find people who accommodate this. But that’s dumb. Isn’t it? Half of the problem is I don’t know how to explain to people how I'm feeling and what I need. I never learned how to actually ask for what I need from people so it only ever happens by accident.

How do I get up tomorrow and not have another day like today? I have to do something different. I have to wake up trusting that the world isn’t crumbling. I mean it is to some extent but my relationships aren’t crumbling. I need to do something that keeps me busy. Thinking about something mundane and simple and repetitive. God they’re going to murder me if I start a puzzle.

I just feel like I’m missing everything. I end up spiraling and paralyzed. That’s literally what it feels like and I wish I was exaggerating. It’s like putting a Rumba on hyper speed but trapped in a corner and like the Rumba isn’t sure if it has a knife taped to it or not so it just has to assume it’s creating maximum damage. That’s maybe the worst analogy I’ve ever written. But really. It’s restlessness and aching and paralysis with a dash of shallow breathing. And nothing is distracting enough. Talking to you is. Talking to Lexie and Val is. Talking to Michael and Will is sometimes. TV doesn’t do it. Writing does it sometimes. Scrolling mindlessly works for about 5 minutes but then I just start feeling worse about myself. But I just end up laying here. Holding on to a pillow really tight makes the pressure in my chest hurt less. Falling asleep on accident is a nice gift. I can’t feel all the shitty things if I’m asleep! But that’s avoidance. Like diagnosed avoidance technique.

I’m missing the last summer I can really spend at home before I have to find where my next temporary home is. Everything just feels fucking temporary. If there’s no physical school next year, I’ll end up breaking my lease and finding somewhere else to be for a year, but just a year. Then back to Skippy Groves for a year. Then who knows where. New York is too expensive. Chicago is better. LA is scary. Seattle isn’t right anymore. I’d literally sacrifice my right boob rather than keep living in St. Louis. But no matter what, it’s going to be temporary. I’ll have a “home-base” but I’ll hopefully be out all over the place working. But then I’ll never be anywhere for more than 4 months at a time. Probably closer to 2 most of the time. I want to actually have roots again someday. Something permanent. I don’t like temporary. I never have.

I’m missing the revolution of art apparently. If I get one more notification about a virtual project to apply for I’m going to scream. I want to take a breath. I’m not expected to do anything except work and take care of myself and this is the first real long break I’ve had since the summer after freshman year. I want to breathe. Take a second to not be constantly moving forward. It’s exhausting. I do like the idea that I’m like a shark that has to keep swimming forward. But what if I want to be one of the high sea turtles from Finding Nemo instead? Just ride the current for the summer? Because as soon as I go back to school, I’m in charge of two huge student organizations, applying for fellowships, working three jobs, being a senior and taking a full load of classes because I’m dumb. I have to do so much when I’m back and I want to breathe. I want to write my play and edit my other play, work, and sleep. That’s all.

I’m missing seeing my dad because I’m too anxious to be social and too scared of getting him sick. I miss him so much. I miss just sitting and watching movies with him. I never paid attention to them, I just liked hanging out with him. He’s like my best friend now and I don’t get to see him. He listens really well. And he doesn’t try to give advice, he just listens and I need that.

And meanwhile mom is bitter and broken and scared I’ll turn out like her and I don’t want that either. I can’t say that to her. But I don’t want that at all. I want to be my own person. She keeps saying she just wants me to be able to be happy again. And to her that means laughing and smiling all the time. But I guess that’s not happy to me, that’s appearing happy. And I can do that really well. I know how to appear like I have it together and that I’m extremely happy. But it’s exhausting. So I stop trying. But that scares her. I couldn’t tell her about how bad last night got because she’ll just cry. I’d have to back track and say never mind, I’m overreacting or she’d just call my dad in tears and say I’m suicidal when she hasn’t even listened. She heard a buzzword and would start to panic, saying she failed as a mother and how she “doesn’t know when I lost my joy.” That’s her favorite thing to say. And I could tell her when, not exact dates but the when and the who. But that would open up a lot of other conversations I don’t want to have with her. And we know she doesn’t react well to the idea of me even moderately not wanting to live.

And I’m not suicidal. No plans, no methods. Just passing thoughts. The shortest moments. I know how to sink into those and last night I did. But I know to stay in bed when that happens. Don’t go upstairs, don’t go into the gym or the workshop. Just stay in bed, pull the blankets tighter, try to breathe. It’ll hurt less when I wake up and it always does. Give it a few days and they’ll be gone. They always go away. And despite the current pandemic, things are good. I do have good people in my life. I have dreams and all that mushy stuff. I’m not doing poorly in my chosen path. So that’s okay.

Tomorrow is going to be better. I’m going to run maybe. I’m going to eat at least twice. I’m going to write a page. I’m going to do my laundry. I’m going to make a cake. I’m going to find something that makes me smile. I’m going to write like this again because this was nice. I guess I did fall back into “journaling” how my teachers all said I would. I hate when people tell me to do something and I refuse out of spite then they end up being right. But I think it’s better if I just accept this one at face value.

Goodnight. Sleep tight.

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