#on a week i planned to feel like shit because i overworked myself on the weekend

[invisiblerhythmcat]

my temperature regulation is so fucked right now, I hate this

[thepenandthepistol]

Mundane Aching (Platonic!Grian x reader)

Due to some soreness, you're unable to help Gem like you said you would. Grian helps you out and soothes some of your worries.

A/N : Sickfic I wrote because my period was killing me T-T and also the first thing I've actually posted on this account! A win for the slayers of perfectionism. This was meant as a platonic fic but I'm sure you could read it as romantic if you want. Also, reader is an avian as well. (1018 words)

Art by @applestruda and divider by @saradika-graphics

There's still so much to be done, and here you are, still under the sheets. You spent the first half of the day trying to manage a creeping pain in your back right where skin meets the base of your coal-black wings. Ache spreads in waves from the limb and into your vertebra, as if something alive is puppeteering the sinews under your skin.

Despite the guilt, you've resigned yourself to your bed; due to an enormous nap, you missed your afternoon plans with Gem. Being an avian means you were much more used to flying than she was, and the new nether build she was planning required some tight maneuvering. Days like these are some you look forward to, holding onto the back of her chestplate, hovering over lava lakes and bastions. 

The trust she has in you, feeling safe even if dangling over potential death, is special in its own right. The friendship you've cultivated and the idle conversations had midair are among your most treasured memories. So, when the exhaustion from carrying materials to and from your shop finally made itself known, you groaned as you curled up on your bed, trying to push away the pain and at least pass by Gem's to apologize for your absence. Maybe sweeten the deal with a nice cake and evening tea.

A sudden flash of crimson outside your window makes you stop in your tracks, feet just inches from touching the cool floor. A single moment of silence is had before Grian pulls himself back up onto the windowsill with a mischievous smile. 

"Did I scare you?" He asks, shuffling inside and closing the window behind him with a soft click.

"Oh yeah," you start, closing your eyes and breathing deeply as a particularly sharp stab rolls from your back and claws at your ribs. "Only if being worried you were going to cut your wings on the bars outside counts as scared." 

"Excuse me, I'm very skilled! I could probably dodge like five of those in a row." He speaks with a smile, but, to your dismay, he's seen through your teasing and into the discomfort below. 

"Gem's been looking for you," he says, aligning some of the trinkets on your shelf and picking your work clothes off the floor. "Sent me here to check while she continued working." 

"Shit," you sigh and drape your arm over your eyes, blocking the light crawling in from outside. "I'm having a bad day, I guess. Must've overworked myself last week, and now my wings are killing me."

"Have you had something to eat?" You hear your closet door creek open and Grian looking for something between clothes and towels.

"Not exactly. I had a snack before midday, but I slept through lunch." You open your eyes to see him bring a nice blanket over your shoulders. It doesn't ease the pain, but the soft texture makes existing a little easier.

"Well, just about time for some tea then." You grimace, remembering your promise to Gem. Grian moves to close the room door behind him when you groan out a protest, wrapping the woolen quilt around yourself and finally standing up.

"I'll join you. If I lay here any longer, I'll sleep the entire day away," Grian snickers, but walks in sync with your lethargic steps down the stairs and into a quaint kitchen. 

Plopping down on a stool, you watch Grian clack on the stove and place a ceramic kettle on top. It was a birthday gift from Ren. A painted flock of dark birds contrasts the white background alongside some fleuron details. 

"Grian, mate, it's you," you point to a particularly wonky bird.

"Absolutely not, look at him! He's your splitting image." He gestures to the dark wings behind you. 

"You know what else is splitting?"

"Your head?"

"My head."

You rest your temple on the wooden table and furrow your eyebrows. You could probably make the journey over to Gem's by now; despite the headache and muscle cramps, you're feeling well enough to stand, and you could chance flying the short way over. 

With a crack, you stretch your wings entirely; they spasm a bit before reaching their full length; you pay no mind. What was once a terrible tendon-deep flare has resided to a burning soreness; you've done more than travel a couple hundred blocks in worse conditions. 

Grian pours the water into two mugs, each with a homemade teabag flopping loosely off the side. You take the smaller mug, lifting it to say 'cheers,' and sip on the sweet berry. You begin putting on your boots when Grian finally lets concern wash over his face.

"You should rest a bit more. Gem's fine. Her garden's turning out really nice." You hesitate a tad bit before tying the laces together.

"I promised her I'd help you know. I'm sure she understands, but I want to make good on my word." You don't register Grian setting down his mug and tilt your head in confusion as he kneels and pulls your boots to his thigh, unlacing them.

"You sound like a knight going to war," he cracks a tiny fond smile. "I know it's your nature, but these things aren't that serious. Your 'word' is still good even if you don't put your own health on the line." Silence follows.

"You're sure she doesn't need me?"

"Positively." He stalks off to line your shoes up by the door and then returns, sitting next to you on the couch and letting his wing curl around you.

"You need to relax. No wonder you're having a bad time when your muscles are that tense." He teases, and you scoff, taking back the mug and continuing to drink.

"Can you tell Gem I won't be making it then, please." 

"Yeah, course," he says, knocking his shoulder with yours and hopping to his feet. 

"I should tie a letter to your leg and throw you out of the second-story window." You say into the mug as he turns the knob on the front door.

"Hey! I am not a pigeon!"

[bahablastplz]

All In | Chapter 7.5 (Changbin)

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Changbin knows what it's like to be weak but he has people he needs to protect. How did Changbin come to join SKZ?

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

“You’re weak,” he laughed at me. 

When I was in fourth grade, I had gotten the shit beaten out of me when I stood up for my older sister. This guy in her grade was constantly berating her, picking on her, making her feel less than. One time too many she had come home crying and I decided enough was enough. 

It didn’t go as planned, of course. He was two years older than me, and so I wasn’t able to stand up for her the way I had wanted to. I had gotten pulverized, more or less, but the relentless torment of my sister had stopped. Mission success? 

The night I had gotten beaten up, my sister tended to my wounds in our family bathroom. “Stupid,” she had scolded as she wiped blood from my upper lip. “You should know better. I never want you to get hurt again.” 

“Don’t tell Ma,” I had pleaded. Our mother would be sick out of her mind with worry if she saw me covered in blood and bruises. 

Our mother was a headstrong, independent woman that had raised us well. Our father had taken off when I was just a baby and I was still too young to remember him, but his existence continued to sour the taste in our mouths to this very day. Since then, our mother had been a provider, working day and night in order to give us everything that we needed. She was overworked, anybody could see that much, but she wanted to make sure she gave her children a long and healthy life. 

It was that night that I had vowed that I would become stronger. For her. For my sister. For our family. I would work hard and make sure that I would never get hurt again, but that I was strong and that I could protect my family. 

I went out looking for work the very next day. Believe it or not, nobody really looks to hire you if you’re in the fourth grade. But try as I might, I went to every business in town and begged them to hire me. I was persistent, in fact. 

“Why would we hire ya, kid?” one older man had spit at me. “With arms like yours, ya would only be a burden. You can’t lug around a potato if you tried.” I was ridiculed for even trying. But try as I might, day in and day out I would show up every morning begging for work, rain or shine. 

One day, my luck had finally passed. I guess it was their busy season or something, because when I showed up to his shop at opening I was immediately thrust into work. It was all physical labor and sure, he was right about me not having the strength or stamina yet to truly be of help. But, I had the determination and perseverance. I never complained once, and though I was slower than some of his other workers, he gave me another chance the next day when I came back. 

And so, that’s how I acquired my first job. And though my body wasn’t fully equipped for it yet, it certainly became equipped over time. Though I was small, my body started bulking up and giving me the strength to lift hundreds of pounds of materials each and every day. 

By the time I reached high school age, I was working 60 hours a week and bringing home hundreds of dollars in cash. My Ma always made it a big thing when I tried to give her the money; I never kept any of it for myself. But I needed her to know I had it handled. If it were up to me, she would never have to work another day of her life and I would provide for us and we would live happily ever after. 

It wasn’t long before I got greedy. People wanted me for my strength, after all. But once I found out that underground fighting was a thing… It was almost like I had forgotten about my vow years ago to never let Ma see me get hurt, to never have my sister have to patch me up again. I was leagues above the others, with my physique that I had spent years skillfully crafting. I never told my family the nature behind my new job, but all it entailed was me beating the crap out of other people. And people always bet on me, and they would always win of course. My technique was a little rusty at first but what I lacked in skill I more than made up for in strength. And when I wasn’t fighting and bringing home money, I was in the gym training. 

It wasn’t enough. Just a little more. Once I was stronger, I’d be able to protect them. 

Never mind the fact that I didn’t get to see much of my Ma or sister anymore, as I was always in the ring or in the gym. All that mattered was that I was powerful. That I had something to show for it. 

One day when I showed up to the ring, there was a large crowd and a lot of murmurs that I had never heard before. A new opponent? Nobody had dared to challenge me in eons. But here he was… a man that had a few inches on me in height, but definitely not in raw strength. They called him Chan? I had never heard that name before, so he must be new. 

One thing’s for sure, and that I was confident that this was a fight I could win. 

“Changbin, right? Why don’t we turn this into a bet?” He had asked me. 

I scoffed in his face. “Don’t make me laugh,” I told him. “You’re going to lose enough already, no? Do we really need to bring down your pride, your ego and whatever cash you have in your pocket? Let me do you a favor and spare you here and now.” 

The man only grinned in return. I could tell he was cocky and that only pissed me off. My adrenaline was already ready to go. 

“How about this. If I win, you’ll consider joining me and my team,” he had said. 

“Your team… Yeah, sure buddy. Whatever you say. What about when I win?” 

“If you win, Changbin, I’ll give you 10,000 dollars in cash.” My face blanched and my blood ran cold. He couldn’t be serious. He was that confident in himself?

“You’re on, man. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” We stepped into the ring and I cracked my jaw and knuckles in anticipation. I barely noticed the crowd getting larger and larger around us as we prepared. 

The makeshift ref blew their whistle and counted us down. “3… 2… 1… Go!” And we were off. I was in my element, of course. Years of training would finally pay off, I thought to myself. 

I barely had time to register how fast he was when the whistle blew. In half a second, he was across the ring and in front of my face. I blinked and saw a fist swinging for my face but had just enough time to duck, meeting his jaw with an uppercut. He took it like a champ, of course. Never had I seen someone that wasn’t instantly knocked out by the force of one of my uppercuts. I would usually save that for a finishing move, but today there was something on the line. 

He stepped back, his hand cradling his jaw for a second as he took me in. He smiled at me. Usually by now, once my opponent is humbled they would make a last-ditch effort to swing and swing, getting messy in an attempt to stake their claim and win. I saw none of that with Chan. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and for a second I almost felt like prey. 

“You’re strong,” he noted. “That’s why I want you.” 

“You and everyone else,” I told him. “Tell me something I don’t know.” 

I lunged forward, aiming for his stomach but I’m met with air. He dodged my blow? Stumbling forward, I wasn’t expecting to be swept off my feet. I didn’t even see him move! How could he have knocked me off balance that easily? 

Squinting, I saw the flash of his shadow moving. He jumped, making to tackle me to the ground but I read him too quickly. I rolled to my side, noticing when he made contact with the ground instead of my frame. ‘Two can play that game,’ I had thought. 

I’m on my feet in an instant, taking a defensive stance. 

“You’re loyal to a fault,” he said. “A family man. You’re protective, a caregiver. You want to be able to provide.” 

“How do you know all this?” I panted. I hadn’t had a fight in the ring this long in years. 

“I make it my business to know things,” he provided unhelpfully. “The top fighter in the city? Definitely my business.” I rolled my eyes at that. 

He moved forward and lunged with a right swing which I dodged with an arm. I reached to grab him but failed and instead was met with a blow right to my stomach that I had left unprotected. Holy shit. What muscle was this guy hiding? I coughed and sputtered and barely registered the sound of the crowd coming to a roar. 

He lifted up his leg as if to kick me and I was thrown into yet another defensive attack, throwing my arms up. I instinctively swung back but he wasn’t there–he had used the momentum from his kick to crouch to the ground, springing up to land an uppercut straight to my nose. I heard a loud crack before everything went dark. 

Chan later told me that I had been unconscious for about an hour. When I woke up, the crowd had dispersed and my coach was yelling at me about all the money I had lost him. Chan, in all his glory, had stayed until I was conscious again. 

I groaned. 

“So about my team,” he said, cracking a grin. “You want to be strong? You want to know how to protect your family, how to protect your mother and sister that you care so much about? There are things they need protecting from that you don’t even know about yet. They’ll be safe if you join SKZ, but if you don’t… bad things will happen to them. Let me tell you about it. Join me for a walk.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @hermione640 ; @gal82 ; @b-chansbbygirl ;

@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ; @ellelabelle ;

@melleus ; @hyun-bun ; @luminouskalopsia ; @leftovercigarettes ; @sabrina-gal-kpop

@ghostedgameplays ; @wealwayskeepfighting ; @meloncremesoda ; @Lovelino23 ; @bubblerizz ;

@blossominghunnie ; @sunlitangel777 ;

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[livelaughghoul]

Brazil 2024 sprint race predictions.

Not gonna like yall, I didn’t watch shit about the sprint lol. I have no idea what the grid is, or what the vibes are other than there was Senna helmet that looked like my Tupperware cabinet, so this is blind again :) also sorry for the formatting I’m too lazy to get off the couch and grab my computer.

I promise I’ll actually watch the sprint and qualifying tomorrow and not be a complete disaster class of a person. Honestly, this week has been a fun little reminder that like, I need to be gentle with myself and remember that I’m a chronically ill bitch and pushing myself too hard is like, a really bad idea. Anyways, I’ll stop complaining now.

P1 - Four of Pentacles, reversed

I have a feeling that whoever qualified here is gonna be winning tomorrow. It’s a possessive card, and if we’re looking at the reversal so there is going to be some selfish behavior tomorrow. Either that, or the blocking aspect of the card is gonna come into play because they lose position and it’ll be a wild defense.

P2 - Five of Wands

This one is interesting, because it’s a card of disagreement. Something is going to happen tomorrow, either with strategy or team communication. I don’t see any contact tomorrow, but I feel like there is a mental block and it’s coming to a head tomorrow.

P3 - The Tower, reversed

RIP to whoever qualified here, because wow do we need a crisis counselor? Given the reversal, I’m imagining that this is more focused on the sudden change aspect of the card. There is going to be a 180 that takes place tomorrow, unknown to them. Going in with one train of thought only to have a completely different thing happen.

P4 - The Hermit

Congrats on racing by yourself, and giving yourself time to just sit in your thoughts and be forced to acknowledge your own emotions and feelings. It’ll be a quiet sprint, but it’ll give whoever this is plenty of time to consider the actual race and figure out the strategy they want to go with.

P5 - Six of Cups

It’s a card of goodwill and innocence, so I’m sure they’ll have a pretty good run tomorrow, one without too many issues. Not knowing who qualified where makes it difficult to say, but I imagine they’ll make some choices with the team in mind tomorrow.

P6 - Ace of Cups

Whoever qualified here is going to be a force to be reckoned with. They have something to prove to someone and they’ll be making a statement tomorrow during the sprint. I wouldn’t be shocked if they make up plenty of positions.

P7 - Knight of Pentacles, reversed

This is my least favorite knight, and it being reversed just makes it so much worse. It’s such an indecisive card to pull, that honestly it’s either going to be an incredible drive tomorrow or an absolute joke and they’ll take someone out. Either way, I support their

P8 - Ace of Swords

This one is interesting, because it’s about the mental strength that someone has. I get the feeling that this is all about figuring out the plan for Sunday. The points are a bonus at this point, they just want to mentally prepare for Sunday.

P9 - Ace of Wands, reversed

Anyways, this card is big dick energy, in the worst way possible. It’s going to be a wild strategy from them tomorrow, it’s creative, something that will provide them a bigger picture and path forward. I think the aggression we will see is going to be more mentality focused than actual driving.

P10 - 10 of Wands, reversed

Is whoever qualified here okay? Cause I don’t think they are. It’s an overworking of oneself, spreading themselves too thin, and not looking after their own needs. It’s likely going to be a rough weekend, mentally and physically.

[fuck-customers]

I may or may not have done an oopsie at work by talking back to my boss. Long rant, sorry.

Follow up, I was the anon who sent in a message about how me and another coworker drew pictures for Christmas on our personal work whiteboard and my boss got butthurt over it cause he’s a douche, so I drew a picture of the grinch directed at him.

He sent out a message initially saying the “graffiti” was unacceptable etc and I didn’t respond because either I’d have to A) kiss his ass and lie like a suck up or B) tell him to get fucked . Both of which options didn’t seem viable, so I opted to ignore it.

Cut to today, a few weeks later. I wake up after doing an overnight shift to a message from him. He’s detailing how my close was unacceptable and going off about my coworker drawing on the board, again (said coworker already handed in his letter of resignation last week and so we both decided to just leave it up as somethin of a fuck you cause ya can’t get fired if you quit).

The message was detailing things I’d made sure were done, and prep that wasn’t completed that should’ve been done by the day shift people.

I was half asleep, in a bad mood and sick of months of this crap so I went off. Debated all his points, told him the prep wasn’t my sole responsibility and several things he listed had in fact been done by us. That the day people need to start pulling their weight and this issue of me coming in to nothing done has been ongoing for weeks. I tried to keep civil but made it very apparent he wasn’t going to speak to me like that without getting shit back. I reminded him that majority of my closes are great and I work myself to the fucking bone to make sure the opening people come in to a clean environment (not because I care abt the job, but because I want the opener to have an easy job), but mistakes happen and I don’t want to be constantly under threat of disciplinary action because I’m a fucking tired human being.

He responded with something like “I’ll speak to the day people to let them know this is an issue” to which I said that shouldn’t be the only take away he gets from this, and I don’t want to be constantly worried that if I leave so much as a crumb on the floor I’ll be hunted down over it. Said that behaviour like this is reason my coworker quit and may be the reason I quit as well as they’re already not paying me enough to warrant wanting to keep this job as it stands and I’m over this unhealthy work environment.

He hasn’t responded to that last part yet. Coworker and I are joking that either he’s too stunned that a ‘mere employee’ bit back, or he’s planning to murder me. I know I should be concerned, and the safest course of action would’ve been to bend over backwards going “yes sir, of course sir” but I’m tired of this place and looking to quit anyway and boss is a piece of shit who’s called us employees ‘just numbers’ numerous times, so fuck him anyway. I’ve been so overworked, stressed and burnt out for months now that I’m just unable to feel it anymore.

TLDR; boss tried to berate me through text so I bit back and basically told him to fuck off cause I don’t need this job as much as they need me 🤗

[r6-unifiedlands]

A Little Company with Big Bad Wolf

[Remington "Espion" Harmonics & Emil "Fenrir" Svensson]

Summary: It seems that the new guy was having difficulty blending in with the team, and Espion decided she wanted to befriend him by helping him with his lab work.

A/N: I blacked out and woke up with this fic, what the fuck.

It’s been a week since Fenrir arrived at Rainbow’s main HQ at Hereford.

Reth liked the codename that the new guy chose for himself. Fenrir from the fabled Norse legend stories, a wolf that could devour both heaven and earth alike and cause massive apocalyptic events. Feared for his name and reputation, how the ol’ wolf got despised by gods and mortals alike.

Except, this new operator feels like he’d topple down if she nudged him slightly, probably.

Fenrir, or Emil as his real name, doesn’t talk as much. He was shunned by almost half of the team, and the rest either offered him friendship or avoided interacting much with him. An overworked man who barely even sleeps in his own room and prefers to rest on his messy desk, observation papers written in Swedish scattered across the surface of his workbench. He eats almost alone most of the time in the cafeteria, with the exception of either Kapkan or Stena would sit together with him and keep the chemist company.

[There was a moment when she heard Nomad talking to Kaid in Arabic during training, and she thought it was just a normal conversation. But as soon as she heard Fenrir and Thermite’s names in there, she figured out they were talking shit.]

With that in mind, she figured out that she wanted to keep the anxiety-riddled man company by—

“No, I don’t need a test subject for now.” Emil didn’t move his head from soldering a circuit board, his voice remained flat and very much tired. Might be because of the damage that Mike caused on his F-NATT device. “I’ve tested the current formula of the fear toxin on myself, and that was good enough for Jordan and Mira.”

…Welp, there goes her plan of accompanying the Swedish operator by helping his lab tests.

She sighed softly, and it seemed that her slightly disappointed expression was noticeable to the other, because Emil gestured towards an empty chair near him. “I don’t mind someone to chat, though. Saif is currently on a mission, and it’s been a quiet evening without him.”

Oh, that’s a new information. It's not surprising, considering how Saif was known as the friendliest being in this hostile environment, but still new information regardless.

With slight hesitation, she pulled the chair close to her and sat down, eyes watching the way he tinkered with the gadget’s inner workings. Calloused hands carefully plucking burnt parts with tweezers and replacing them with new ones. No rushed job. Just slow and steady work.

Reth likes watching the process. She enjoys how machineries work and how people handle them. Little screws got put aside, small cables roughly connected with each other, or in this case, how the Dread Mine’s gas canister casing finally got replaced with a newer and possibly stronger one. Everyone’s gadgets and devices are wonderful by themselves, and it made her heart swell up in pride whenever she saw people taking good care of them.

“You look happy.” Emil’s gruff voice snapped her out of her train of thought. His head finally turned to face her. “Something on your mind, hm?”

Reth smiled widely, her fang peeking out. “This is the first time I saw your gadget close by.” She then let out a nervous laugh, her violet contacts avoiding the chemist’s blue eyes. “The last time I saw it, I got sprayed by your fear gas and got myself knocked out until the end of the practice round.”

“I don’t remember you getting knocked out. You were doing well back then.” He followed by a soft mutter of Swedish, probably a swear word. 

“It’s my thing.” It’s her amnesia that prevented her from remembering lots of parts of her day-to-day basis. You possibly have a dissociative disorder, Harry’s voice rang through her mind. “Speaking of well, how’s F-NATT? Did you fix it?”

The mention of his gadget made the chemist shift his attention back to his work desk, examining the circuit board once again. “I’ll run some tests tomorrow. It’s dinner time.” He sat up and stretched his body, she could hear the subtle crackle and pops of the joints. “If I remember correctly, today’s dinner is steak with steamed carrots and broccoli florets.”

Reth groaned, the previous smile now replaced with a small frown. “I’ll skip. Old man Baker would chase me down to make me eat vegetables.”

Emil raised one of his eyebrows. “That’s unusual, coming from someone with a military background.” The engineer now noticed how tall the chemist was as he came closer. “Now that I think about it, you barely showed up in the cafeteria. What did you eat all this time?”

“Instant cup noodles, my best friend!”

He clicked his tongue; the blue eyes gleamed brighter under the room’s lighting. “Unhealthy. Do you know how much sodium is in there and the health risks if you consume it daily?” Now he reminded her of her late mother, who would nag her whenever she found out about her eating a raw block of instant ramen secretly.

Besides Gustave, Emil’s response is nostalgic to the engineer in a good way.

Another sigh left Reth’s mouth, eyes now shifted to the ground. “Vegetable texture and taste would make me gag. I can’t force them into my mouth unless it’s mashed into other food to mask the yuckiness…” Her voice lowered, thumbs twiddling. A sign of her nervousness.

In all honesty, Reth is embarrassed to tell people about this quirk because of how wildly different people would react to it. Baker went on a rant about how she should’ve gotten her shit together a long time ago and to grow the fuck up, and she decided not to listen to it. Flores was still kind to her, making her try Perico, a Colombian dish consisting of scrambled eggs with chopped vegetables, with the veggies minced more finely than usual. 

[Marius agreed with her since he also can’t stand vegetable texture other than starch roots like potatoes and yams. He just masked his dislike better than her.]

“So you’re telling me…” Emil crossed his arms, tapping his index fingers absentmindedly “...you have food hypersensitivity?” She nodded slowly. He hummed, closing his eyes for a while.

“Emil? You alright?”

“I’m alright, just thinking of something.” She could feel the chemist’s gaze piercing through her. “If I cook you something that wouldn’t make you gag every day, would you eat food properly from now on?”

Blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me right correctly, Espion.” More blinking gestures from the younger operator, and he let out a loud, exasperated sigh. Strands of his jet-black hair fell, and he combed them back up with his fingers. “I will keep track of what you like and don’t like in vegetables and run extensive experiments on them in the kitchen. You’ll be my test subject.”

For a normal person, they would be highly suspicious because of that ominous statement alone. This person previously worked for Deimos, blew up a whole site, and developed a gas that possibly would end up with people killing off each other if inhaled for an extended period with an incorrect amount of formula.

Too bad that Reth is not “normal,” in a sense.

“I don’t mind.” She grinned, an honest smile for the other. “When you start?”

“The kitchen beside the cafeteria would be free of use around nineteen. Walking now would get us extra spare time to talk during the trip.”

Somehow, her task failed successfully.

[cooking-with-hailstones]

Ok time for a slightly unhinged rant. (TW frank discussion of my eating disorder)

I have an eating disorder. And for some reason, no one wants to fucking call it an eating disorder.

Eating actively stresses me out. I hate doing it. It is boring, it hurts, I don't enjoy eating. Cooking is worse. I actively avoid cooking, and I feel terrible and pathetic and like a joke of a human because of it, but I'm serious when I say that cooking makes me have panic attacks on a semi regular basis. Don't even get me STARTED on grocery stores. I just completely dissociate and wander the aisles in a daze, randomly picking shit up and trying not to cry. Meal planning is a sick joke.

All week, I've been overworking myself and not eating to the point where I am constantly dizzy and faint. The brain fog is honestly exhausting and deeply frustrating.

And for some fucking reason this doesn't count as an eating disorder??? because I don't give a shit about being skinny. I am perfectly happy with my body, in fact I think I would look better if I gained weight! But because my food issues center around money and climate change, things that are external to me and cannot be resolved with any positive self talk woo woo bullshit, people just do not know how to react.

My issues with food stem from my extremely well founded anxieties about my own finances and being able to afford the rising cost of food. My eating disorder centers on climate change, and my debilitating fears about food sustainability. I step into the grocery store in December and I see mangoes from Chile and klaxons go off in my head screaming THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!!

I could not give two shits if I'm skinny or not. It is irrelevant to the issue at hand. My eating disorder is systemic, not personal.

I've never met anyone else who struggles with food like this. People just tend to give me strange, confused looks and offer deeply unhelpful advice. If this is you, please hmu because I'd love to chat.

(Now, I have a strong network of supportive people around me and a strong familial safety net on the finance front, and I'm actively in therapy about this, and my doctor is great. I am super lucky on every front. Nonetheless, it's still something I have to grapple with every single day!)

((Also if you tell me to "just eat more food!" or "meal prep is actually really easy!" or any kind of very obvious surface level advice that I guarantee I've heard before, I will come to your house and put spiders in your room while you sleep))

[houkagokappa]

It’s Monday and I’m exhausted. I didn’t get to rest on the weekend, because I had uni work and chores to keep me busy for most of it. I also celebrated my sister’s birthday with my family, which I have mixed feeling on, since my sister was late for it by two hours. I could’ve used those two hours to wind down and just exist as myself, but instead I spent them annoyed at her being late, worried something might’ve happened, anxious not knowing what was going on and irritated because I hadn’t eaten anything since the morning and had gotten incredibly hungry. My sister’s habitually late, but she usually lets us know how late she’ll be and this time around we got radio silence. When she finally picked up (an hour later) it turned out that she overslept because she spent the entire night (until 8 am) helping a friend who was dealing with “a crisis”, and once she went to sleep she forgot to set an alarm. I can’t even be mad at her for being late because she did the right thing helping a friend in need (8 am might seem excessive, but sometimes that’s life and I’m not about to question the validity of someone's crisis).

I had a good time once she got to my parents place, but it is really frustrating how she continues to show no respect for us and our time, especially this week and last week when I’ve had to push myself to make the schedules work. One of the things that annoy me the most is how she’s never cared to put the effort in for us, “that’s just how she is and we should plan around it”, even though she’s entered an industry where the working hours are strict and she doesn’t seem to have any problems following those or going above and beyond to help her friends. I guess this stems from/adds to the bigger issue where I feel like I’m not important enough to be worth that extra effort (although I’m super close to my sister so it’s not like she doesn’t appreciate me).

It also really sucks how I’ve gotten a lot of great news lately, and I’m currently doing an internship that I’ve dreamed about for ages, but I’m still stressed and exhausted. My life is supposed to be “good” right now, so why don’t I feel that way? The answer is because I overwork myself, which is frustrating, since I’m too much of a perfectionist to spend less time on tasks (double, triple, quadruple checking everything before I turn in any assignments) and I have been working less weekly hours than what’s intended for the internship, so it feels like I should be able to deal with this much, if not more.

I mentioned being exhausted to my dad and his response was “welcome to the working life”, which was irritating since 1) this is not my first job/it’s not even a job, so it’s not like this is my first experience with working life, and 2) he doesn’t have a bunch of extra uni work and a single person household to run at the same time. I pointed that out to him, but he claimed to still think about work during his weekends (which is probably true to some degree, but it’s still not the same). My parents are lovely people and they do help me out a lot with different things, but they’ve never understood my mental health struggles (which, to be fair, I hide for the most part). They probably don’t think I have any anymore, since I’m doing all these things now, so it feels like I get very little sympathy for my troubles. I’m also worried that my life’s always going to be this way, with me not having as much energy as I used to have/ want to have/ feel like I’m expected to have. Like I’ve come a long way, but life’s still kinda shit :/

...

I have to remember to be kinder towards myself. I’ll schedule in time for my uni assignments and I’ll take it away from the hours I’d spend on my internship (since they allow me to come and go as I please), so that I’ll have the evenings off. I’ll attend events only if I feel like I’m up for it, I’m not going to force myself to attend just because something’s organized and it sounds fun. I’ve been doing better, but I still need to remind myself to take it easy.

[omega-tech]

my 39th birthday

Well, next week will be my 39th birthday on November 27th 2023. The last three and a half years have been really rough, hard, emotionally, challenging, and heart arching in my entire life. I lost friends, family, people who I once called homies to sisters. And now I am looking into the mirror of a man who is still standing but humble of the last three years and I mean three long years that change my view of life. 

Since March of 2020 when the world shut down, I was very worried about what would happen or will happen. I was scared and very depressed when I was at home alone. Few of my so-called friends have taken their mask off to show who they really are then what I thought of them. I view the world in two views, one was the hateful and greedy side that was destroying the hope we had left and two was the people who were peaceful and giving that was trying to hold on to hope we had left over. 

2022, was a crazy and rough year for me, I got hurt to the point I lost my front teeth and had to get emergency oral surgery. My job was overworking me and paying me less while the higher up was taking our hard work money away. And at the end of the year I got hurt again at work which led to more pain and arch’s while my job was trying to find ways to screw me over and get me fired. I was stressed out that I wanna quit but could since the medical bills were building up. 

And then the beginning of 2023 was not a good start.  My job screwed me over and was trying to put me in a position I wasn't comfortable with and I called their bull shit. So I made a decision to go to a different department for my job. After that i couldn’t see myself doing that job for so long, i mean there wasn’t any advancement to move up. So in March of this year I decided to look for another job which was challenging. Until late April I got a call from a company that wanted to hire me, which was my break. I put in my two week notice and left that job, and ended with a horrible position. This company told me lies and I knew this job wasn’t for me. I had a plan to stick it out until something good came along but I quit that night because the team leader was trying to kill me on  a line that I didn't feel safe in. So after being without a job for almost a month I got hired on as a housekeeper which i didn’t want but needed a paycheck. Luckily I still had time to do interviews for the jobs I was applying for which led me to get hired on to reynolds. I started in September of this year and currently I am still working here. 

As of now, I am in a comfortable place and feel safe from being jobless. I don’t know what I am going to do but my plan was to go to school but, school isn’t looking good and I don't know if my trade degree i am going after would benefit me in a good work life. I wanna make this work without failing but I gotta face it because it is a part of life and I gotta learn from it. I just hope something good comes out of this when 2024 comes. I just hope I get a sign from god or anything telling me what I need to do and change about my life. I wanna have a good job and pay so i can own a home out in the country where there is quietness and being safe. That is one of my goals i wanna do, just own a home but these days it is impossible. But then again something will change next year hopefully. 

So as I celebrate my 39th birthday, I wish for change and have a good life. And completing my goals I have set for myself. I know some of the things I will have to give up which some of my friends might not like but have to understand from my view. So, I hope I have a good day on my birthday and wish for change in 2024. 

[myaquariusheart]

17/4

So, I was late to Uni today, missing the Inclusion presentations, and who didn't see that one coming. Honestly, I have no excuse, even though I had an eye-opening realization yesterday this just proves to me it's going to take a long time and some real drive and determination in order for me to be able to wake up on time, stop oversleeping and actually be on time for once. It was the first day of Uni today and it was somewhat interesting and the start of new beginnings and the end of some things too. I saw old friends, and I saw J and T. I thought J was being a bit cold to me but I still haven't figured out if that's just how she is. T was super friendly and kind to me which kinda put me in a better mood. I also had a meeting about my dissertation today. It was really long overdue and also stressful. I've been waffling too much in my work and not being clear about my aims and objectives, so that means I'm going to have to carefully read over my work again and create a new question. ALL THIS and the 9th of May is getting closer and closer and I'm honestly having an internal panic attack. I need to just focus and think about what's really important here but also not overwork myself or the work is not going to be good, just rushed and not thought about properly. Next week is the presentation and Philosophy is also due. They're both complete but just need some improvements and a read-through. I need to include references on both which is going to be challenging because I have no idea where to get them from. I've brushed and got ready for bed but I also feel like I didn't do all that I could have today, I still need to read, watch some JoJo and also think about what I even want to do tomorrow. I need to wake up early and take Alv to school, then come home, have a shower, and get to Uni on time. I had iftar plans but I think I'm going to cancel them and just come home, I do have work on Wednesday which is such an early start and I am dreading it. I also saw S today which was probably the highlight, only because I didn't think I was going to see them. I was definitely speaking that interaction into existence because there was literally no chance of me seeing them, I haven't seen them since OCTOBER 2022. It's been almost 6 months now, and wow time has really flown by. I'm going to graduate and get out of that place and say goodbye to all my Uni memories. I'll defo be bored and miss everyone in that place but can't wait to say bye to the drama. I'm feeling a little excited now and hopeful, like Tiffany Ray said, 'Rome wasn't built in a day' and there's always room for improvement and change. Tomorrow could be that day who knows? Mum is also having a meeting with Z's school and I just hope it goes well, usually, I'm the one going to these things but I think it's best now that Mum goes because it seems like I'm not as effective when I go to these things. I think at the parent's meeting we literally met one teacher and we called it a day, but it does make me feel excited for when I go to my own children's parent meetings. Anyway a bit off-topic here I watched the Love Is Blind reunion and everyone online was saying that it was underwhelming and a bit shit. Ngl I actually enjoyed it and thought it could be as juicy as it could be. I'm glad Irina got thrown under the bus, not to hate on her but she was a bit horrible and I'm glad everyone watched it unfold. I also felt sorry for Marshall, and Zak. Zak's singing was sweet but it was hard to hear but honestly, Bliss is one lucky girl, no man has ever sung for me and at this point, I'm dying for someone to write a rap about me. That would be a dream come true. I think that's when a man is truly in love because what kind of man does that?! Someone who is so in their feelings and is sensitive and not afraid to share how they feel. So you go Bliss and Zak. With Love Island and Love is Blind all finished I don't know what love show I'm going to watch and keep me occupied. With my love life going down the drain I just want to watch other people be in love and happy.

[bluethedream]

nanami where are you I need you to support my decision to quit working forever

[midsizebook]

OMGG you can do this whenever you feel like it but I have a request for satellite fluff. Maybe Alice is trying to do something nice and romantic for Harry as a gesture of her love, and maybe it doesn’t go exactly as she planned so she’s all frustrated and Harry comforts her and tells her that she tried her best and he appreciates her anyway??!? 🥹❤️

Hi lovie! Thanks for the request and for asking so politely; you're so nice! I hope you like this one. Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: Fluff, VERY SMALL mentions of smut.

---

The sound of a door slamming and Harry’s voice, cursing, “shit,” under his breath startled me out of my slumber. 

 

“Harry?!” I jumped, sitting up instantly. 

 

“I’m so sorry my love.” He tiptoed over to me, his voice just above a whisper. “That was me. I- was tryin’ to get my clothes out of the closet without wakin’ you.”

 

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently squeezing my shoulder as he leaned in to kiss my lips. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep, honey.”

 

“Hmm.” I agreed. Relieved that everything was alright, I closed my eyes and let him tuck me back safely into the covers. He kissed my forehead sweetly before withdrawing out of the room. 

 

Harry had been overworking himself lately. Though, I think, one thing I quickly learned as soon as we got together, is that he did have a tendency to do that. He always overbooked his schedule; had a hard time saying no to anything; constantly overextended himself. I’ve yet to figure out where this stems from. Perhaps a fear of disappointing fans, or a feeling that he’s lucky to have the job that he does so it’d be ungrateful of him not to take every opportunity that he can, or a mix of both. Whatever the case may be, it was clear he’s been stressed lately. Leaving for work at ungodly hours, and coming home well past midnight, most nights, after I’d already gone to bed. 

It was all taking a toll on him, and he showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. 

 

I’d been there myself, not too long ago, in fact. Last month was midterms season at the college, which meant that my workload had tripled, seemingly out of nowhere. Throughout it all, Harry always found ways to be supportive. Not all of them were obvious, either. For instance, he’d sneak into my office after I’d left for the night and organize my chaos into small piles of “needs grading”, “needs revision,” and “complete.” He'd leave me little messages on post-it notes around the room, for me to find throughout the day. He’d complain that he was “bored” and use it as an excuse to sneak in some time with me and bring me some snacks to  make sure I was eating. He’d wash my clothes; cook my meals with enough leftovers to be packed as lunch the next day; beg me to go out for a walk with him and get some sunshine; bring me flowers…. He even remembered my therapy appointments and set reminders for me to keep on track. When he heard that I was thinking about skipping out on therapy one week because “I just don’t have time for it this week” he forced me to go. Harry excelled at all of this. The supportive boyfriend role came naturally to him. Though all of these gestures would seem to be mostly practical; simply about keeping our life running smoothly and doing chores around the house, picking up slack, they made me feel so loved and cared for. None of these things included him actually saying the words “ I love you,” but I felt as though he had, every time. 

 

It was my turn now. I needed to step up and show him that I love him. But, unlike him, gestures of affection were entirely new to me. I didn’t have a knack for knowing what made people feel loved at any given moment. And, Harry was rich enough to just “throw” money at any inconvenience. No time to do laundry? Send it out. Too busy to find time for grocery shopping and cooking dinner? No worries, just dine out or order in, better yet, call up the personal chef! What do you give someone who already has everything they could ever want, or need? Where does that leave me as a partner?

I couldn’t believe I had stooped this low, but I went online and googled “everyday gestures of love,” almost throwing up in my mouth at how embarrassing this was. While some of the recommendations on the list involved things like “buy their favorite snack” that I didn’t need to do, there were a few ideas that I could get inspired by. Alright. I had some planning to do. I wanted this coming weekend to be the best couple of days that Harry has ever had. 

***

 

Friday night had rolled around, and I was ready to deliver. My plan was to be so ridiculously sweet and romantic with him that, if I were a literal edible sweet, I’d kill him with a sugar overdose. After much contemplation, I decided to make us dinner. Surprising him with all of his favorite things: shrimp pasta, that weird healthy salad he likes, wine, and finishing off with a heart shaped, raspberry-white chocolate cake. It was shaped like a heart. It was chocolatey, it was red, what’s more obnoxiously romantic than that? But that was only the beginning. I dressed up, hiding an elaborate (and frankly quite uncomfortable) little piece of lingerie under my dress. I lit candles, decorated the dining table with flowers, and I waited to surprise Harry as soon as he got home. 

 

What I didn’t expect, however, was just how long I’d have to wait. It was already 7 pm and Harry hadn’t come home yet. I checked my phone to see if he’d called or texted, but I had nothing from him. Perhaps I should text him? But I didn’t want to rush him. This was about being supportive and loving, not impatient and attention-seeking. So, I waited. Then I waited some more. Then, I fell asleep. In my tight dress, makeup, and lingerie. Right on the couch. 

 

It was almost midnight when I heard the shuffling of Harry’s feet as he walked  into the room. 

“Oh my god, Alice! Did- did we have plans? Did I just completely forget and stand you up? Baby, I’m so, so sorry!!” Harry rushed over to me, grabbing me in his arms. Even in the poorly-lit living room, I saw his heart drop, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped lips. He was exhausted. 

 

“N-no, no. Harry, calm down.” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “We didn’t have any plans.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed instantly. “You’re just dressed up, and….I’ve been so forgetful of everything lately, I just assumed-“

 

“Relax, Harry. Alright? I- umm. I made us dinner!” I said, springing to my feet. “You just stay right here. I’ll go get you a drink while the food heats up, okay?”

 

Harry’s lips parted, he was ready to protest. I stuck my finger out, pressing it to his lips. “Hush. Don’t wanna hear it. Just take a breather, okay? I’ll be right back.”

 

I got the oven started, turned on the stove, and set out the cake. Pouring Harry a drink, I began to feel nervous. Okay, so, the pages online said to be cheery. Ask him about his day. Listen to what he wants to talk about. Give him compliments. Play with his hair. Those are the things that he can’t buy with money. I can do that. Sounds simple enough. 

 

In the living room, Harry looked like he was ready to doze off. I stood over him with his drink in my hand, not sure if he was even awake. Then he stirred. 

 

“H-hey. Sorry, nearly fell asleep.” He smiled, reaching his hand out for the glass I’d brought him. “The lighting in here is making me sleepy.” I was going for romantic but okay. 

 

“I’ll turn the lights on, sorry.” I rushed to the light switches around the walls, turning them on one by one. “Better?” Harry nodded taking a sip of his drink. I shook my nervous off and sat next to him, rubbing his thigh gently as he drank. “S-so, how was your day?” Mentally, I checked “ask about his day” off the list.

 

“It was fucking torture. Had all these meetings all day, none of which went well. By the time I got to the studio most people had already left, but I didn’t want this day to be an absolute waste so I tried to get some work done, but- it just- it wasn’t happening! I kept pushing through the frustration but- everything I wrote was horrible-“

 

As Harry went on venting about his day, I tried to focus and be present in the moment, but my mind quickly drifted off to my role in all this. What was I supposed to say? What would he want to hear right now? I asked myself what Harry would say to me if the tables were turned. I tried to remember the tips I’d read online. Before I knew it, I was zoning out and completely missing what he’d said. 

 

“Well, uh, you’re home now. So, that’s all that matters.” I  smiled reassuringly and took the glass out of his hand, setting it on the end table. I jumped in his lap. “Just relax, okay?” brushing my fingers through his hair and feeling him relax at the gesture. Yes! Finally, some success. He nodded sluggishly, a hum reverberating in his throat.

 

“’S nice.” His eyes fluttered shut as he rested his head against the couch cushion, releasing the tension from his shoulders. “Thank you for being here.” He mumbled, smiling up at me. “Kiss me, please?”

 

What started out as gentle kissing quickly heated up into more steamy territory. Harry’s arms desperately wrapped around me, as if worried I might escape. His tongue pushed against my lips, moaning into my mouth. Eventually, his hips were pushing up against mine, his clothed crotch looking for friction. “A-Alice,” he whined. “I-need- I’m a mess.” He confessed, blushing and hiding his face in my neck. “It’s not gonna take much.” His hips bucking up again, pushing his center against mine. “Please?”

 

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” I smiled, curling the ends of his hair around my finger.

 

“Mhm. I’m so, so close. It’s actually quite humiliating, but- ahh,” He gasped as our bodies collided. “Please? help?” 

 

It’s not that I wanted to be cruel. Not at all. But Harry’s desperate hands squeezing all over my body reminded me of my plan. I’d dressed up for this. Shaved my body head to toe. Cooked. That’s not when the plan says to have sex. Plus, I had the oven going. I was too in my head to register Harry’s trembling, or the fact that my squirming and scrambling to get off his lap had rubbed enough on his groin to give him the most painful and underwhelming ruined orgasm ever. He moaned in pain as I jumped off of him.

“Wait, it’s time to eat!” I rushed into the kitchen, leaving Harry behind to deal with the waves of pain hitting his body. 

 

At dinner, Harry said nothing about the table decor, or the flowers. In fact, when I looked down at his plate, he’d hardly taken a bite. 

 

“I-is everything alright?” I looked at him; he seemed like he was falling asleep right at the table. 

 

“Yeah, mhm. All good.” He smiled, swirling his fork around.

 

“You’re not eating.”

 

“No, I am. I promise.”

 

“What? Does the food not taste good?” I  reached over and took a bite out of his plate, seeing if I could taste anything wrong. It seemed fine to me.

 

“The food’s great! I love that you made my favorite dishes. It’s so sweet of you. You definitely didn’t have to.” Harry forced a smile on his face, consciously squeezing his eyes open.

 

“What’s the matter then?”

 

“Well- it’s nothing. I just- I kind of already ate. Just before I got here actually. I…I thought you’d be asleep. Didn’t know you had a whole thing planned. I’m sorry. But I can still eat! It’s fine!”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!!”

 

“Honey, I tried to. When you said you’d made dinner, I was trying to tell you, but you just got out of the room so fast. It seemed important to you. And…like, you’ve put in all this effort. It’s okay, really. I always have room for pasta!” Harry went to dig his fork into his plate, but I reached over and grabbed it. 

 

“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t have to eat if you’re full. That’s ridiculous. Let’s just go to bed.” It was kind of him to want to do it for me, but it was entirely unnecessary. 

 

“Are you sure? I mean, you made all this food, and-“

 

“I made it because I thought you’d be hungry when you came home. Cuz I was trying to make sure you ate something. Not because I wanted to force feed you. You’ve eaten! You’re all set. That’s all the matters. That you’re looking out for yourself. Let’s just go.”

 

Relief washed over his featured as he set down his silverware. “Okay.”

***

 

At least I had one last trick up my sleeve, though if I weren’t so caught up in trying to make this night work, I might have had the presence of mind to know that saving this trick for another day is perhaps the wiser choice. I unzipped my dress and walked out of the bathroom. Harry had barely taken off his shoes. His feet dangled off the bed as his lower half hung over the edge. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes already half-closed. Before I could turn back around and put on a robe, he noticed me. 

 

“W-wow. You look- wow.”

 

His speechlessness made my cheeks flush.

 

He got off the bed and reached for me.

 

“No.” I pushed him back down. “Stay right where you are. Let me take care of everything this time.”

 

“wait, babe- before we-” Harry hissed.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Harry.”

 

“I- ah, I need to- I gotta tell you something-“ 

 

I unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down his legs by the hips. Harry grabbed my wrist as I hooked my fingers into the waist band of his boxers. “This is gonna sound- wait-“

 

I yanked them down in one swift motion. It was more aggressive than sexy. In my head, the assertiveness was meant to be hot. But it certainly didn’t look, or feel, that way. 

 

I saw the wet stain on the front of his boxers and looked up at him with tight lips and eyebrows quirked up. 

 

“It’s not- gosh, it’s not what it looks like, I promise. It’s-“

 

“Hey, I’m not judging. Like I said earlier, it’s been a while since we’ve….you know. You gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. I just think…I mean, maybe next time pack a spare-“

“W-wait, what? No! God, no! That’s not- what am I? some kind of animal? Jesus, Alice!” Harry blushed, looking away for a moment, then back at me. “This…it just happened earlier. On the couch?”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah…told you it’s embarrassing, but, I don’t know. I got a bit too excited I guess, and, when you left to check on the food…you were a bit rough and…it’s- whatever. I- wanted to go change, but-“

 

“I did this to you?”

 

“C-can we not…I don’t know. Can we not talk about it?” He giggled.  I’ve always thought of myself as a free and comfortable guy, but- I guess admitting to your girlfriend about prematurely finishing in your pants brings out the worst in a man.” He licked his lips nervously.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry- I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I wanted to make you feel good!”

 

“I know; I know, baby. It’s okay. It was- god, I mean, this is sexy, huh? It was an accident.” He laughed, reaching for my necklace and fiddling with it anxiously. 

 

“Well, let me make it up to you.” I leaned in to kiss him. Harry pecked my lips quickly and pulled back. “Actually…Could we- maybe not? Not tonight. I’m feeling… im just a bit tired. Just wanna rinse off in the shower and go to sleep.”

 

“Oh.” I scampered off of him, gently, this time, and helped pull his clothes back on. “Of-course. Yeah…yeah, that’s a good idea.” I was aware that I sounded as though I was trying to convince myself that I was okay with this.  “Ummm..” I looked around the room to avoid his eyes. “Let me, just, wash off my makeup and you can go into the bathroom, yeah?”

 

“Take your time baby.” He gave me a tired smile and rested his head back down onto the bed. 

 

I understood why he’d turned down sex, and I certainly never wanted him to feel uncomfortable saying no, or feel like he had to sleep with me whenever I wanted, but even with all that in mind, I couldn’t help but feel a bit rejected. I took a deep breath and stood frozen in front of the mirror, watching my face for any signs of disappointment. I didn’t want him to feel guilty for having said no. But this was about more than the sex. It was about the fact that this night was looking nothing like I had planned it. All I wanted was to wrap him up in my love and appreciation and make sure he knew that he had a soft place to fall when things got to be too much. Somehow, I’d done the exact opposite. I was a failure as a partner. I mean, what does it say about me if I’m only good at receiving love, not giving it? Doesn’t that put a lot of pressure on the person cursed with having to be with me?  I was back at square one. Not knowing how to communicate my love for him. 

 

A sudden, piercing noise snapped my thread of thought in half. I ran out of the bathroom in a panic. “What is that?!” 

“It’s…the fire alarm” Harry yelled out over the sirens. “But I haven’t heard it in years.”

 

Fuck. My stupid cake. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkk.” I rushed downstairs cursing and yelling. 

 

The kitchen and dining area were barely visible behind the black smoke. “SHIT!” I ran into the kitchen and turned the oven off; leaping to open ever window on the floor. My eyes were watering, my lungs filled with smoke, I struggled to breathe.

 

Moments later, Harry appeared behind me, speaking on the phone.  “No, sir. I promise. All is well. Just a cooking accident. Yes, I’m sure. It’s- it’s no big deal. Not at all please don’t bother. We’re okay there’s no reason you should drive out here at this hour. Yes. Thanks. Good night.”

 

I ran back into the kitchen with oven mitts, pulling out the flame-roasted remains of what was once my romantic gesture. Tears ran down my face and onto the black sludge in the pan.

 

“What was it in the oven, anyway?” Harry followed me, clueless.

 

I turned around, holding the cake in my hands and showing it to him. “My black, loveless heart is what it was!” I broke down sobbing.

 

“Oh, honey….” Harry looked down at the pan and back up at me with pity. “Don’t cry! What is that?”

 

“Cake! What else would it be, Harry?”

 

“I don’ know, Matilda, S’ kinda hard t’ tell at this point…” He laughed.

 

“I’m glad this is funny to you! Go ahead and laugh at my failure!” My screeching had reached fire-alarm levels of high pitched. 

“I’m sorry. Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t be laughing. Ummm, why don’t you set that down so I can give you a hug, hmm?”

 

I did as he suggested and ran straight into his arms. He pulled me into him, rubbing my back and whispering in my ear. “we’re okay. It’s all good, babe. It’s okay.” We stood there  for a while, long after my sobbing had quieted down. “Thank you for my cake, baby.” Harry broke the silence, chuckling. I elbowed him right in the chest but it only made him hug me tighter and laugh harder. “Looks delicious. Really, I can’t wait to dig into it. Jus’ if I may, uh, what…flavor is that supposed to be?” 

 

He managed to make me laugh.

 

“There she is! Yes, no more crying.” He kissed my cheek.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry.” 

 

“Hey, it’s alright.”

 

“Not it’s not!”

 

“It’s just a cake, Alice….”

 

I pulled my body out of his arms and sat at the kitchen table. “N-no it’s not! The cake is a metaphor.”

 

“I’m sure it is, baby. But- it’s late, and I’m tired. Explain to me?”

 

“It’s…it’s just the perfect example of my failures tonight. All I wanted was to be romantic! I wanted to cook for you, and love on you, and….” I reached over the kitchen table and handed him a piece of paper.

 

“Love, intimacy, time…” He read out loud. “What’s this?”

 

“It’s a list! Of relationship things you can’t buy with money.”

 

“th-that’s sweet-“

 

“I wanted to give you those things. All weekend. I did my research. You know, about all the healthy things that romantic people do?”

 

“R-research?”

 

“You’re just so good at the lovey-dovey stuff. I always feel so loved and valued whenever you do things for me. I wanted to do the same for you.”

 

“Babe, you did research for me?”

 

“I know, it’s pathetic! I’ve just…never done this before. Loved someone like I love you. Nothing ever feels enough, I…wanted you to feel my love for you. Wanted to take care of you like you always take care of me.”

 

Harry rushed over to me, pressing our lips together firmly. “I love you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I whispered against his mouth.

 

“I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He pulled away and grabbed the chair next to me, moving it closer so he was mere inches away, and sitting down. “Listen to me! No, I mean it. I’m the luckiest man in the world…I’m so glad you were thinking of me. I can see that. Really. All the effort you put in? You made me a heart-shaped cake, for fuck’s sakes!” 

 

“Wanted you to feel loved, to rest, to eat a balanced meal. But I burned your house down.”

 

“the effort that you put into burning my house down is what matters.” He laughed at his own words, shaking his head. “Baby, listen. I love that you did all this for me, but you don’t have to try this hard. I certainly wouldn’t want you to do things that don’t feel natural to you, just to make me happy. It’s okay, if you’re not into all this over the top stuff. I don’t expect you to suddenly become someone else just cuz we’re dating now. That’s not who I fell in love with anyway.”

 

“B-but, what about you? Don’t you wish you had someone to spoil you like you always spoil me?”

 

Harry shook his head. “The way I see it, we don’t both have to need the same things, you know? Like, I only do those things because I know that’s what you need to make your life easier, and to make sure you’re safe. What I need looks different, and that’s okay. I don’t cook for you one night then expect you to cook for me the next one. That’s just not how it works.”

 

“H-how does it work, then? W-what do you need?”

“You. No, I’m serious. I’m so happy right now, all I wanna do is kiss you. Because you just said you loved me. Twice in the last 5 minutes. You almost never say ‘I love you.’ I always do it first, and then you say ‘I love you, too.’ Hearing it come from you, unprompted? I’m on cloud nine! Would’ve just been happy calling it a night as soon as I came home, and cuddling in bed with you. You’re the person I want to see at the end of the day. Just wanted you to hold me, and to hear about your day, or just talk about mine. Nothin fancy. Just you and me.”

 

“And I was too caught up with online tips and white chocolate- raspberry cake, and perfect bedroom sex…”

 

“I LOVE that. I do. Shows me that you love me. Now, every time I’m feelin’ down I can just think about this night and I’ll never have to wonder if I’m enough for you. You’ve given me so much just by trying. I mean, you did research just to make me happy! If that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is.”

 

“It’s the thought that counts?”

 

“exactly.”

 

“Hey, Harry?”

 

“Yes, darlin’?”

 

“I love you.”

[flamingo-writes]

Okay so I heard you also write about dark themes (y/n has a stalker in this request certain parts don’t have to be described it can be as vague as you want it to be)

And I wanted to request a Draken x fem reader in which they broke up because she thinks he still has feelings for Emma and thinks he’s been cheating b/c he’s been really distant from her but in reality he really does love her yes he’s been thinking of Emma but now realizes his mistake, and one night as readers at home her stalker breaks in her house and forces himself on her but she tries to make an escape n call draken not realizing he’s coming over to try n talk with her but he realizes somethings wrong and comes in to save her after seeing her stalker have his way with her all he sees is red and almost kills the guy and when they get to the hospital they rekindle n get back together and draken promises to protect her from now on

Yes I do! Ah, I loved the amount if angst in this request, writing this was fun (I mean, not because of what happens, but because I enjoy writing complex emotions)

Pull Me Down — Draken x Reader

(Tittle inspired in the song How Not To Drown from Chvrches as the song helped me out a lot both lyrics and music wise to set a vibe while writing)

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: Non graphic depictions of rape (still somewhat described), stalking, violence, angst.

How long had it been? The last several days, maybe weeks, have all felt the same, looked the same...Has it been months now? Dull, empty, repetitive, sometimes feeling as if you weren’t awake at all and everything felt like a broken old tape, replaying the same greyscale routine with barely any sound, if anything, an annoying buzz in your ears. Barely any familiar faces remained in your life after you broke up with him. 

But, it was better this way, wasn’t it? Better being alone than being with the wrong people...wasn’t it? You were better off alone. 

Mitsuya had tried talking to you a couple of times. Possibly the only friend you had by this point, as everyone else seemed to fade away from your life as soon as you took him out of the equation. 

“You look skinnier” He pointed out as he held a paper bag in his hand. “Here” He said, stretching his hand, handing you the bag. “You need to eat” 

“What’s this?” You asked, trying to feign a smile as seeing Mitsuya hurt as much as seeing, hear or even think of Draken. After all, he had introduced you to Mitsuya. 

“Bento. I made it myself. Eat up” He said as he gave you a kind and warm smile, however, his eyes looked concerned. You knew he could look beyond your broken mask and see how you were not doing well. 

Barely sleeping, barely eating, you did the minimum effort in your classes in college, and avoided the street where his workshop was, as well as avoiding the places where he and his friends spent the most time in. However, Mitsuya always went out of his way to pay you a visit and check up on you. 

“Thanks…” You purred as you looked into his eyes. “I-I’ll...try…” 

“Hey, I’m worried about you” He said, his voice getting lower. “It’s been two months now...and you still look like shit” 

“Oh, shut up” You hissed annoyed as you crossed your arms. 

“It’s still affecting you” 

“You think?” You barked sarcastically as you raised an eyebrow. 

“Have you even been trying to get up on your feet? Or do you still want to lay at the bottom of your pit of misery?” Mitsuya said, hisnvoice getting slightly colder, as he hated seeing you too comfortable in your little pit of misery.

“Come on Mitsuya, I am...trying…” You growled. 

“Are you, really? I know you still love him, and I know you can’t let go of him…” his stare and voice softened as he saw the way your eyes got teary at his words.

You looked away, as a huge lump soon overtook your throat, making it hard to breath, to speak, even think. 

“What do you suggest I do, then?” Your voice broke at the end, as a few tears escaped your eyes, trying your best to keep your composure. 

“Talk to him” Mitsuya said calmly, as if it was the easiest thing to do. 

“Oh, fuck off” you laughed bitterly as turned around, ready to get back inside your apartment when Mitsuya held your arm gently. 

“I’m serious,” He said, whispering your name in a low voice. “Listen, don’t tell Draken I told you this, but he isn’t doing great either...He’s been overworking himself and avoiding talking about it even more than you are” He explained calmly as you looked at him. “Look, I get the reason why you broke up with him, but, can’t you see you’re still in love with him? Why break up with him if you were head over heels for him? And don’t bring up Emma, you know that’s bullshit” He said, perfectly reading your thoughts. 

“Are you done, Mitsuya?” you whispered, tears finally breaking free and falling down your cheeks as you moved your arm, and he let go of you.

“God, you’re just like him. If you talked about it, trust me, you’d feel even better...Go talk to him, stop being so stubborn” He said, staring at you, as you simply avoided looking at him as more and more tears welled in your eyes, blurring your sigh. 

--

“How did it go?” Mikey asked Mitsuya softly as they both looked at Draken too focused working on a bike. 

“God, for a second I thought it was going to be easier talking to her…” He replied in a low voice, slightly annoyed. 

“Kennchin wants to get back with her,” Mikey said looking at Mitsuya as he nodded softly. 

“Of course he does. She wants to as well, but she’s being stubborn…” Mitsuya said calmly. “Did he say something?”

“I asked him about her, he changed the topic right away, then I asked about Emma, he stayed silent...He still feels somewhat guilty for what happened to her, and apologized to me about ending things with her...He’s over Emma...But as soon as I even mention her name, he closes his fist and his knuckles turn white, he looks away, and changes the topic…He didn’t tell me, but I know he misses her...” Mikey explained as he looked at Draken.

Truth was, neither of them saw Draken like that before he met you. He was the calm, collected and always analyzing guy. He never acted impulsively, relying on his guts alone, he always had a plan. But when it came about you? You were his weakness. He acted without thinking when it came to you, he was spontaneous, and unpredictable. But only when he was with you. 

“Kennchin, Mitsuya’s here…” Mikey said standing up from his seat and walking towards him and the bike. “Let’s go grab lunch, yes?” 

“Almost done…” Draken answered as he was cleaning the pieces he had lying on the ground. 

--

After Draken was done, the three of them headed to a ramen place and had lunch. Mitsuya wanted to bring up the situation but found it hard. He didn’t want to upset Draken, but knew he was hurting as much as you were. Mitsuya’d been torn by the breakup of both his friends. He struggled with having to split his free time and be around both of them, since they both needed a friend more than ever. But he didn't want that to end. Especially Since he knew both sides of the story. And it all looked like a dumb break up that wasn't supposed to happen in the first place. 

“You went to her place earlier, didn’t you?” Draken asked out of the blue. 

“How did you…”

“You smell like her” He said cutting him off. 

Mitsuya looked at his jacket and grabbed the neck of it and smelled the fabric. After he had called you stubborn and that you reminded him of Draken, you broke down crying. He hugged you and you clung to him for your dear life. He looked at Draken as he stared blankly at his food, his hand shaking lightly. 

“Kennchin” Mikey began as he looked at him, noticing the way Draken had his jaw clenched at his eyes looked hollow. 

"You go often to see her, don't you? I can tell when you do...you always end up smelling like her…" 

"I check up on her every now and then...No-nothing happens, though...I just make sure she's fine…" Mitsuya explained, as he realized how bad it looked that he was smelling like her every time he went to see her. 

"I know...she's not like that...and I know you wouldn't mess with her either...I'm not mad at you" He said softly, as Mitsuya noticed what Mikey had said earlier. Draken was gripping his chop sticks too hard, his knuckles white. 

"What are you mad at, then?" Mikey broke the uncomfortable silence.

“I’ll go talk to her” Draken said as he continued eating. 

“A-are you?” Mitsuya stuttered.

“I’m tired of dreaming of her every night, and food always tasting like shit, I'm…" he stopped softly. "Dammit, I miss her…" he said letting go of his chops ticks and spoon and staring blankly at his barely touched ramen. "I really really do…" 

"When will you go talk to her?" Mikey asked. 

"Tonight" 

--

The night was quite cool, but the last days had been a torture with the awful heat. With all of your windows open, you were scrolling through your phone, not doing anything in particular. You looked at the bento boxes piled up messily waiting to be washed and returned to Mitsuya. You dreaded washing the dishes, as you grabbed your cup of coffee and gave it a sip. 

A shadow moving through the window caught your attention as you put your phone down and looked out into the backyard. The darkness swallowed the edge of your backyard, looking creepier than ever before as you wondered if it had been a raccoon or a cat. 

As Draken made his way to your place, he kept going on over what to say to you. He had a pretty vague idea of what to say. But where would he start? An apology? Straight out telling her he misses her? 

His thoughts were cut shirt when his phone began ringing in the pocket of his hoodie. He pulled his phone out, seeing your name shining in the screen. His heart skipped a beat as an unexplained happiness washed over him. He picked up almost immediately. 

"Hey, I was just about to call yo—"

"Ken, please help" A hideous whisper soon made his blood turn cold as your cry for help suddenly made his world spin far too fast for his liking. 

"Whats wrong?" He asked.

You soon broke down crying as he tried comforting you. 

"I'm so, so sorry, I didn't know who else to call...and you're in my speed dial…" you sobbed in a low voice. 

"Y/N, tell me, what's wrong? Are you alright?" He asked, his voice getting lower as his heart was beating strong in his head, almost giving him a headache. 

"Someone broke into my house, Ken. Please, I'm scared" you sobbed as his heart dropped to his stomach at the idea of you being in danger. 

"Shit. Okay, I'll call the police. Don't hang up, I'll be back with you as soon as I contact thr police" 

He soon started working on it. He put you on hold as he called the emergency number and explained the situation. He gave them your address as well as his name out of protocol. Once the person in the other end assured him the police were on his way, he quickly returned to his call with you. 

The horror he felt earlier was nothing compared to what he was about to experience. His heart stopped, his blood froze, he felt paralyzed by the sounds on the other end of the call, as he could only imagine what was happening. 

You were crying and gasping painfully, a rhythmic thud noise going over and over followed by the grunts of a male voice. Commanding you to be quiet and cooperate or else it'll hurt worse. 

Draken's mind went numb, and suddenly, everything he could see was red. He picked up quickly on what was going on, as the biggest feeling of impotence rushed through his body, warming up his blood. And soon, he was sprinting as fast as he could towards your place. 

Draken walked snuck into your backyard, his first instinct to sneak in and beat the shit of the intruder. However, he had no idea what he was about to walk into. 

The backyard door lead to the kitchen and as he stood on the other side of the glass sliding door, he saw it. His heart stopped and suddenly his heart was beating fast, his blood boiling, his stomach turned painfully as his ears began buzzing loudly. 

The way he was forcing on to you. The intruder had you leaning over the table, practically crushing you against it. Your face washed with horror, tears streaming down your eyes as you cried and whimpered useless pleads for him to leave you alone. The aggressive way in which he was pushing, torturing you as his eyes stared hungrily at you like a wild animal. Watching some random guy getting his way with the woman he loved made something in him snap.

Draken's world crumbled down the moment you spotted him from the other side of the door. Your eyes, hopeless, met him. As the pain in your face permeated into his own body

"Help me" you mouthed. 

He didn't hear you, but he could clearly read your lips. In a split of a second his heart was beating hard. 

Without realizing it, he sprinted towards the door, sliding it open and in a swift move, as your attacker looked up, Draken hit him on the neck with his forearm. 

Pushing him to the ground, your stalker fell on his bum as he coughed loudly. Draken didn't waste any time as he kicked him on the crotch and sat on top of him, beating his face over and over. The buzz still loud in his head as he hit him repeatedly. His anger driving him on and on as he couldn't think.

You slid to the floor, breaking down crying as you felt your legs and hips sore. Your mind was blank, as the recent memories kept rushing into your mind as you cried and sobbed, shaking. 

Your eyes slowly scanned the kitchen as they finally landed on Draken. He looked possessed as he kept beating the shit out of your stalker. 

"Ke-Ken…" you sobbed. 

It worked like an automatic button. Draken, upon hearing your voice, stopped at once. He got off your attacker and rushed towards you. He knelt by your side and hugged you tightly. Clinging to him, you cried out loudly. He squeezed you against him, in an attempt to comfort you as he ran his hand through your hair. 

As he pulled back from you, he looked at you. Your clothes torn, your shorts pooled by your ankles. And bruises. Many bruises all over your legs, arms, even your neck. 

Draken's eyes got tearful as seeing you in such a state. It pained him. How could he let something like this happen to you? He took off his hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders. He kissed your forehead as your breath hitched.

"It's okay, baby" he whispered. "I'm here…" 

"Ple-please don't leave…" you sobbed, your shaky hand tugging on his white shirt as he looked at you. 

"I won't" he reassured you, as red and blue lights blinked from the window. 

The police kicked the door open and quickly spread around the house searching for anyone. Two officers walked inside the kitchen and saw the entire scene.  

--

Draken always hated hospitals. The wide white, silent, and odd smell of the waiting room. He disliked every bit of it. Even more now. As he was desperately waiting for any sign from you. He looked desperately at every doctor and nurse who walked out, hoping that any of you knew anything about you. 

After a nurse walked out, Draken quickly rushed to her side asking her about you. The nursed told him he could go inside and before she could say anything else, he was already in there, as his eyes desperately looked for you. 

He saw a doctor talking to you as you nodded. Your eyes still red, and your stare dissociated as you simply nodded like a broken robot. Draken rushed to your side, as he bowed politely to the doctor. 

"Ah, you're the boyfriend" he doctor said, as your first reaction was to cling to Draken and sob softly. 

Draken hugged you tightly, one of his hands going to your hair. He looked at the doctor without saying anything. 

"None of her injuries are critical. We will be running a few tests over the next few days to make sure she is alright with no STD's his attacker might have. She'll be prescribed a couple of medications for preventing measures only as well as some pain killers" 

Draken nodded as he kissed the top of your head. 

"May I have a word with you, sir?" Draken nodded at the doctor's request.

"I'll go talk to the doctor, love...I'll be back in a bit, yes?" He purred softly as your grip on his clothes tightened and pulled him closer as he tried to break the hug. "Hey, it'll be quick, okay? After I return, I'll stay with you for as long as you want, okay? I won't go anywhere without you…" he purred softly as he kissed your forehead. 

You nodded reluctantly as you let him go. He grabbed one of your hands and kissed her hand before going out of the ER with the doctor. 

"I'm so sorry about what happened" The Doctor began as Draken limited to look at him with a cold stare. "This is a tough situation. Not only on the physical aspect of it. These things take a huge toll in the victim, I suggest you contact a specialist that can help you two deal with what happened…" 

"We will" Draken answered softly as he felt his heart squeezing as the memories of seeing your stalker on top of you. 

"Its not necessary for her to stay over the night. But I'd like to see her tomorrow and three days from now as well, just to make sure everything is well and to keep running tests…" 

Draken nodded as he bowed once more thanking the doctor before heading back inside the ER towards your bed. 

His eyes teared up immediately at the sight of you. He approached you and slowly cupped your face in his big hands and brought you closer, kissing your forehead. 

"I'm so, so sorry, babe" he sobbed and pressed his forehead against yours. "This shouldn't have happened…I wasn't there to protect you" he whispered bitterly, mad at himself even when he, objectively, knew it wasn't his fault. His mind was desperately looking for someone to blame. 

"Ken" you cried softly as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as he hugged you back. "Please don't leave. I'm scared…" 

"I won't, princess. I'll stay by your side. I'll keep you safe" he said as he pulled back slowly. "Let's go home…" he purred as you shook your head, whimpering.

"I don't want to go back there" you cried. 

"Let's go to my place then…" he whispered, wiping your tears away from your face. "I'm renting a small apartment above the shop...it's not that big but, we can both fit perfectly. I'll make us some dinner, you can take a bath in the meantime, and if you need anything whatsoever, I'll be a couple of steps away from you, okay?" He explained as you looked at him, nodding softly. He smiled, a lump on his throat and tears welling in his eyes as he leaned forward, kissing your forehead. "Lets go then" 

[usedtobe-angstyoikawa]

Ghost

Oikawa Tooru x gn!reader

Summary: you watch the love of your life fade away and turn into his worst habits.

Warnings: angst :(

Word count: 1441

a/n: this wasn’t proofread sorry

Songs I listened to while writing this: protocol, ghost of you, dancing with your ghost, remember that night, heal, to be so lonely, lonely as love, because I had you, end like this, younger, hold on

———————————————————————

Oikawa is a very stubborn man, almost childish. He’d constantly overwork and push himself to extremes his body and mind couldn’t handle. You fell in love with his determination and consistency, finding it attractive how capable he was of getting what he wanted. It took you a while to realize those characteristics, which people usually liked to point out as gifts or blessings, were actually his weaknesses.

You knew very well when you chose to love this man that you’d also have to accept the worst parts of him. You thought you’d be able to change him for good and make him see that by hurting himself he was also hurting his loved ones. But things don’t always turn out the way we want them to.

You walk around what used to be your shared apartment with Tooru, memories of good times and soft laughs flood your mind.

Strong arms wrap around your figure and you smile widely.

“Hey love, I’ve missed you” he whispers in your ear and kisses your cheek.

“You were gone only two hours Ruu” you say trying to annoy him.

“Oh I see so you didn’t miss me?” you shake your head no, playfully, and a smirk makes its way to your boyfriend’s lips. “You’re being mean, you know what happens to mean people?” you know exactly what he’s going to do, but decide to play dumb.

“Mhm, not really. I always get away with it no problem” you look him straight in the eyes, challenging him. And without any warning he starts tickling you and kissing your face, his strong self arms holding you so tight there was no way you could escape.

Those were the arms of your lover, your friend, they kept you warm and safe every night. Well, almost every night. The sweet memory turns bitter and harsh words fill your head.

“You are late, again.” you say while finishing off with your dirty dishes. “This is the fourth time this week, you know I don’t like eating on my own.” you look up to meet his eyes but his not even facing you. You watch him pour himself a glass of water and leave the kitchen, probably to go get a shower. “You know you won’t get kicked out of the team if you stay home just once, right?” you raise your voice, making sure he hears the hurt in your voice.

He turns around and takes a few steps back till he’s resting his shoulder against the kitchen door frame. Icy glare staring you down.

“But you will?” he’s mad, probably had a bad day, maybe something to do with that goddamned knee of his. Doesn’t matter what it is, you still won’t tolerate his attitude.

“If you keep ditching me for volleyball I might” that’s not entirely true, but you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“Oh please, you don’t want to make me choose, believe me” and with that he turns around and heads to the bathroom.

Warm tears slip past your cheeks, the same cheeks he used to kiss and caress. It’s hard not to miss him, after all he was a charming idiot who was just too lost in his own ambitions. Always putting his passion over love, but making it up to you with gifts and longing stares.

As soon as you step inside your apartment the smell of vanilla reaches your nostrils. The lights are low and you notice rose petals spattered on the floor. Oikawa. You follow the red path till you reach the bathroom and your jaw drops. In front of you is your boyfriend careful lying placing lit candles near the bathtub, which is filled with water and bubbles.

“Oh shit you’re here already, give me a second I’m almost finish” he says once he notices you standing by the door. He goes up to you and gives you a soft peck on the lips. “You can start undressing it’ll only take me a minute. Unless you want me to take care of that too” he teases you.

Once he’s done and you’re finally enjoying the warm bath, he stays next to you and hands you a glass of white wine. You know this is his way of apologizing for not spending enough time with you, and even though you don’t want to give in that easily it’s hard not to when he’s being so sweet. The music playing in the background is slow and makes you feel sleepy. You turn your head to look at Oikawa, wanting to admire his pretty boy features. But his eyes are already on you. His resting his chin against the palm of his hand while his brown orbs scan your face, taking you all in. He stops to stare at your lips for a second, and then moves up to your eyes. Neither of you say a word, there’s no need to. Most people think te prettiest eye colors are blue or green, grey being the most intimidating and hazel the cutest. If that is true, then brown eyes have to be the most intense, you think. Or maybe it’s not the eye color but the boy behind them, piercing through your soul and giving you butterflies. He smiles at you and let’s out a long sigh, never once breaking eye contact. It feels so intimate, he’s undressing your heart and caressing it with his soft fingertips.

That smooth motherfucker. You still have some of those rose petals decorating your living room table, probably won’t ever be able to throw them away. Your heart aches but you know you made the right choice.

“It’s not my fault you have the need to play the hero every time I do something wrong. I’m an adult, I know how to take care of myself” his voice is deep and rough.

“I’m not playing the hero, I just want you to rest and give yourself a break. You say you can take it but I know you can’t, that doesn’t make you weak it only makes you human” you try to talk some sense into him, he’s been overworking himself even though he shouldn’t because of his knee injury. Apparently, not even his teammates could stop him from hurting himself.

“ I am not a child! You say you’re trying to help me but you’re acting just like the rest of them. I thought you understood me, but how could you when the only thing you’re good at is getting on my nerves. And you think you can come to me with your puppy eyes and pretty smile, making me feel guilty for not spending time with you, you should know I don’t have time for that!” his words cut like daggers through your skin “You knew volleyball was important to me when you first met me, so don’t play the victim.”

“Toruu, the only victim here is you, you’re victim of your own thoughts and words. If you keep up with this whole burned out gifted kid act you’re not only gonna loose yourself but also the people you care about.” it was during fights like these that you asked yourself if staying was the right choice, but you couldn’t leave him when he was like this “ I know you want to be the best of the best, but this is not the right way to do it. How are you planning on playing volleyball with a fucked up knee? “ shit.

“The only fucked up thing here is this relationship”

The sound of the doorbell shakes you out of your thoughts and you make your way towards the door.

“Hi... I’m here to pick up what’s left of my stuff. If you still have ent thrown it away that is” he’s staring at the ground, hands in his pockets and a backpack hangin from his shoulders. He looks tired and a little gloomy. At first you don’t really understand what’s going on, but then you remember the box in your room, sitting at the top left shelf. He was supposed to pick it up a week before, but of course he was busy training.

“Yeah sure, come in I’ll get it for you.” you let open up the door and he steps inside, eyes still glued to the floor, and you tell him to sit in the sofa.

You return to the living room, box in hands, and you find him staring at the rose petals placed on the coffee table. None of you comment on it. He takes his things and leaves your place with a sad goodbye, locking your eyes one last time.

[misora-msby]

scarred love.

rating : mature

word count : 4.3k

themes : angst, slight fluff, implied and mentions of sex

notes : based on vistlip’s CLASSIC OPERA // this is my first work on this blog, i hope you enjoy!

“I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

“No way… That’s not the case, I’m sure!”

“That’s what I want to think but…”

Suna could barely believe as he stood outside the bedroom door, hand barely making contact with the handle. Was that really what you thought? 

“I wonder if it’s normal for couples to fall out of love at this stage.”

“Mm… there’s certainly been couples I’ve known like that. They were in love for years but after they got married they decided it wasn’t the life for them and divorced.”

Suna heard your gasp follow the tinny voice from the phone. He had heard of similar stories before but never thought it would happen to him and you. 

Ever since you had gotten together, he was always subtle in his love. He was never the type to outright say “I love you” in public or to boldly proclaim his love for you on social media. Suna preferred linking pinkies while walking or to post photos of your study dates with simple captions like “another ‘10 minute break’” or “we are going to collapse”. 

Despite this, when you were in the privacy of your apartment, he almost never left your side. It was either his head on your lap, his legs laying over yours on the couch, or you sitting on his lap in some way albeit still being relatively quiet. 

So to think you were getting upset with the little attention he was showing recently had him confused. Wasn’t he always like this?

“But Y/N, I doubt Suna-san’s fallen out of love. Isn’t it just that his new job with EJP Raijin is keeping him busy?” 

“Y-Yeah but… he hasn’t said anything about it. He comes back late and leaves early and it just… It just sucks so much! I don’t know what to do!” you sob and Suna can hear the sound of you blowing your nose and coughing through your tears. 

Taking a step back from the bedroom door, the middle blocker moved to the couch and sat for a moment, head in his hands. He knew love couldn’t be perfect. A perfect relationship without fights or problems was just waiting to crumble from the slightest crack in it. But he wanted to at least prevent you from thinking this way. 

He wanted you to know he did love you. 

Later that night, he crawled into the bed, freshly showered and in his pyjamas - an old thin t-shirt and a pair of boxers. You laid beside him in your own pyjamas - one of his big t-shirts and a pair of shorts. 

“Y/N,” he turned onto his side and called your name, causing you to almost jump while attempting to fall asleep with your swirling thoughts.

“Yes, Rin?” 

“You have a free day tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Well… yes. Why?”

The bed shifted under his movement to hold himself over you. 

“W-Wait a second! Rin! I’m not prepared or anything- mmf!” 

He pressed his lips to yours, his fox-like eyes shut delicately as he kissed you passionately. Before you knew it, his hands moved to your sides and began to lift the edge of the shirt up, but were quickly pushed down. 

“Rintarou,” you lightly pushed on his chest, “I uh… I’m not wearing any nice underwear… A-And I haven’t shaved. Can I go change and do that?” 

Honestly you were very surprised that he suddenly wanted to do this. Suna was always one to do things out of the blue; your relationship was built on impromptu dates and spontaneous gifts he claimed ‘reminded him of you’, but this really had came out of nowhere. 

You hadn’t been intimate in weeks and you wanted to at least look good for it, but Suna just shook his head. 

“You’re fine like this. I love you however you look.” He leaned back down and began to place kisses along your jaw and neck. 

His kisses were softer than usual, you noted. And his hands weren’t rushing to tear your clothes off like he usually did.

“Rin- ah! Rintarou, why are you doing this all of a sudden?”

“We’re both free tomorrow. Can’t I spend my free day with my girlfriend the way I want to?” he asked, looking up at you through his thin lashes. 

“Still! That gives me more time to go get ready.”

“No,” he shook his head and continued to kiss and bite along your neck and collarbones, leaving his marks of love on your skin, “I want to spend every second that I can with you now that I have the time.”

“Wait a second.”

Suna finally pulled his lips away from your skin, now littered with little marks, “What’s wrong?”

“Since when were you so romantic? It just… Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy it’s just a little funny…” 

His eyes widened at the sight of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, cupping your face in his large rough hands gently. 

“I’m more than okay! No… I don’t know why I’m crying…” you sob softly, rubbing at your eyes. 

Suna chuckled lightly. “Is it because you’re filled with overwhelming love for me?”

“Rintarou!” you whined and hit his chest lightly. “You’re absolutely insufferable!”

“You say that but you were the one who asked me out on our graduation.” 

“...you little shit. I really do love you.” 

“Mm, I thought so. I love you too.” He continued to kiss and strip you.

Unlike your usual nights together which were spent fucking roughly, leaving bodies sore and lightly scarred, tonight was slow and loving albeit passionate as ever. Soft kisses and laughs were exchanged in the dark as Suna made love to you, thrusting slowly while mumbling words of love into your body. 

The next morning, you were woken up by the feeling of a kiss on your forehead. Your eyelids fluttered open and you squinted in the morning light to see Suna sitting on his side of the bed, clad only in boxers. There was also the scent of eggs and toast, and when you looked down, you saw it sitting on a plate between you two.

“I’m no Osamu here. But I think my cooking is still edible,” your boyfriend sighed before flopping down onto the bed beside you and closing his eyes. 

“You actually woke up to cook for me?” you asked, sitting up to look at the sunny-side-ups with broken yolks and the toast that was just a little too toasted for your liking. 

“Surprised myself too,” he yawned before squinting his eyes open, “More like… I wanted to surprise you. And wake you up with a kiss.”

“You’re so cheesy today, aren’t you!”

“I know, I think it’s weird too.”

On that day, you knew he still loved you. And you loved him more than ever before.

But that happiness couldn’t last forever. In the city of Tokyo where sadness and troubles rained down, something was bound to happen. Even the most heavily cemented cracks could once again break under a heavy enough pressure. 

Even if it took a couple of months.

“Rintarou! Welcome home!”

“Mm.”

Your brow furrowed slightly as you noticed his short answer. After shutting your laptop where you were answering some work related emails while waiting for your boyfriend, you made your way over to Suna who was hanging his winter coat by the door.

“Rin, are you alright?”

“Just tired.”

You sighed softly, “You shouldn’t overwork yourself. You need breaks sometimes too, you know?” And reached up to begin massaging his shoulders as you usually did. But he only pushed your hands away quickly, saying, “Not tonight,” before walking further into the apartment.

You bit your lower lip to prevent it from trembling any further while your hands stayed still as if frozen mid air. You were hesitating to tell him what you wanted to say earlier.

“Rintarou… Tomorrow you don’t have scheduled practice, right? I…” you took a deep breath as he turned to face you, eyes dark and heavy-looking. 

“Yeah.”

“I was wondering… Well, I don’t have work tomorrow either so I reserved a place at a nice restaurant for dinner! I think we both need a bit of a break, work’s been so busy and you’re also training so intensely and-”

“No.”

“H- Huh?” you laughed nervously, “What do you mean by ‘no’?”

“It means what it means, I don’t want to go.”

“Rintarou, you can’t just- I can’t- I promise it’s a really nice place! A-And I wanted to spend some time with you…” there was a lump welling up in your throat as you tried not to suddenly pour out your recent feelings towards him. 

The recent frustrations of not being able to spend much time with your boyfriend anymore, the annoyance at the way he would always spend his free time doing self training, the anger towards his schedule which rarely ever allowed you to meet, the sadness of the fact that your shared apartment no longer had the sound of laughter when you two played games or watched silly YouTube videos together...

All that frustration felt like it was just being held up behind that lump in your throat, and to think he would simply dismiss it without a second thought.

“You should’ve asked before you started making plans. I’m going to the gym tomorrow again. We have a match against the Red Falcons in two weeks so I need to become at least a bit stronger,” Suna explained monotonously, as if you should have known that already.

“I- I know but… I thought… it’d be a nice surprise…”

The man sighed and turned to walk towards the bathroom, ready to just shower and go to sleep. He simply could not be bothered to argue with you, thinking this problem would solve itself like it always did. But you had had enough of this issue.

Suna hadn’t even realised it was coming until he felt a small bell keychain hit the back of his head. It fell to the hardwood floor with a loud clang which lasted for far too long, causing him to inhale sharply and turn around, anger and annoyance replacing the bored expression on his face for once. 

“What the hell is-” he was about to raise his voice until he saw the way your features trembled and your eyes had already become red and puffy. His own features softened and his body unstiffened. “Y/N…”

“You know, the least you could do is try to be nice to me!” you yelled, furiously wiping away the tears forming. “You could at least say “Mm, I’m really not free but we can do it some other time.” or some shit like that! But no! I- I’m busy too, you know! I’m trying to get promoted so I don’t have to rely on yer dumb ass all the time, but I still want to make time for you because I love you so much! But I don’t think ya get that!” 

Something in the back of your mind was telling you not to say these things, that maybe you could just talk this out calmly. Maybe you didn’t have to explode, but something else told you this was the only way to get a point across.

“I’m your girlfriend, but I feel more like a roommate or burden at this point! Ya know, even ‘Tsumu’s able to make time for his girlfriend! And- And Bokuto’s always doing his promotions and ads but still makes time for his boyfriend! Ojiro-senpai too! Miyu-chan tells me he’s the one planning the dates! But ya can’t even be bothered to pretend you’re happy I tried ta plan somethin’ for us!” 

Suna knew you really were angry when your dialect started coming out but he just didn’t know what to say. He could only stand there in silence with his head hanging like a child being scolded.

“Rintarou… I love you so much you know… I just wonder these days- no, I just wonder if you ever loved me back the same way.”

Oh, he knew. Ever since that night when he heard you crying on the phone, he knew he wasn’t doing enough. 

“I… I’m sorry.” Suna looked up when he suddenly heard those words from you amidst the sobs and chokes. 

“I already left your pyjamas on the bathroom counter… Please don’t… Just please don’t talk to me tonight.” you hurried to the tiny kitchen to wash your face as he silently made his way to the bathroom, thoughts swirling around in his head. 

Suna stared at your figure silently for a second before bending down to pick up the bell - a cheap gift he had given you for your third month together right after you two first started university. It was old, the string slightly frayed and loose, and the golden paint had chipped in places to reveal the stainless steel underneath it. There was even a dent on the bottom from when you accidentally dropped one of your heavier textbooks onto it. It was old, and Suna had told you countless times it was fine to throw away, but you always kept it. 

The man took it and carefully placed it back on the key rack before heading into the bathroom. He took his time in there, gathering his thoughts as he knew he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with you tonight.

It was understandable really, he hadn’t been a great boyfriend. Suna knew a relationship took work from both sides and he shouldn’t have been as blunt as he was earlier that night. 

One couldn’t count the number of times he had muttered profanities aimed towards himself while sitting in the bathtub thinking about his mistakes. He didn’t know if you would even want to see him tomorrow morning. Maybe it was for the best he just went to the gym…

The next morning, Suna woke up early. Even in winter, the sun rose far too early in Japan for his taste. Sitting up and grumbling, he rubbed his eyes and stumbled to the bathroom to begin his morning routine.

Looking at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, he could only sigh at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes. 

Though you made him sleep on the stiff couch last night, you gave him the shared duvet and his pillow while you took the slightly thinner blanket from the closet. 

Despite the added comfort, Suna could barely fall asleep. He kept twisting and turning, thinking about you. Your pained face, your strained voice, your kindness even when angry at him. 

“I fucked up so bad,” he muttered once he washed his face and stared at his pathetically tired self in the mirror, water dripping from the ends of his hair. Would you want to break up with him after that? He’d understand if you wanted to, though he knew he would never be able to forgive himself for losing you because of some stupid mistake he could have prevented. 

Suna sighed for what felt like the thousandth time in the past 12 hours and dabbed his face dry with a towel. He knew that now would be the hardest bit - entering your bedroom to get his change of clothes.

Opening the door as slowly as possible in order to prevent the loud whiny creaking that he wished he had fixed months ago, Suna walked slowly towards the open closet. As quickly as possible, he grabbed a set of clothes and turned to face the door. Though it wasn’t without looking at your sleeping form on the large bed. 

Your face was puffy, dehydrated from sobbing last night, only emphasised by the wads of used tissues on the nightstand and floor. He noticed your breathing was a bit heavier than usual and your body was curled up as you hugged the thin blanket as close to yourself as you could.

The sight pained him intensely. 

With silent footsteps, Suna set his clothes on his side (the empty side) of the bed and tiptoed out to grab the duvet before returning and carefully laying it over your body. He tucked it right up to your chin as you always liked it and sat on the floor, eyes scanning every little feature on your face. From the smallest moles he loved to kiss to each individual eyelash.

“You’re not hearing this, I guess,” he muttered, looking down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at you, “I thought about it for a really long time. I really should’ve been better to you.”

The silence in the room was deafening. 

Suna gulped and bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about his next words, wondering if you could hear him in your sleep. 

“I always left you alone but you would always be nice to me. When you could, you’d make me bentos and clean the house while I did the laundry. Hm… putting stuff into a machine isn’t anywhere equal to cooking and cleaning surfaces, but I guess that’s another point to make.” 

Suna smiled to himself just a bit at the memory of you running into the bedroom to make him try your new pastries or dinner creations. He always thought you were so adorable in your old and stained apron that sometimes he would just stand in the kitchen to chat with you or watch you cook.

Then he was reminded of the dinner you had planned for the two of you and he suddenly frowned remembering how horrible he acted towards you the night before.

“You never expected me to be perfect since day one. I think I’m the furthest thing from a handsome prince on a white horse. But you’ve always been wonderful to me. And I was thinking…” You were asleep, right? Was it worth it to say such cheesy things?

“I kept wondering if you would leave and I thought I don’t want to lose you. I’m nowhere close to a prince but I thought I want to always be the one who wakes you up with a kiss. Or, I want you to wake me up with a kiss. Either is fine really. But… yeah. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. ” He was certain you weren’t hearing these things yet there was a dark blush on his cheeks.

Until he saw you shift in the bed. 

Suna swears his heart stopped momentarily as he leaned closer, checking to see if you had woken up. 

Your eyelids slowly opened and you squinted tiredly at Suna, just barely able to see him with how blurry your vision had become. “Rin…?”

The man hurried to his feet, hoping his morning wouldn’t feel any heavier than it already did. 

“I’m gonna give you some space. I’ll be back after my jog.” 

Suna turned to exit the bedroom but was stopped by the sound of stumbling, followed by your warmth around his waist and resting on his back.

“Please… don’t go.”

He stared silently at the floor in front of him. 

“I don’t think you want to-”

“Stay here! …please?” 

Your soft voice broke but mended his heart at the same time. The scratchiness and fear in your voice contrasted with the words that he wanted to hear so badly.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, I heard everything.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m still a little mad. But right now I’m just really happy you would say those things when you normally wouldn’t tell me how you feel. So… please, don’t go. Stay with me.”

The few moments of silence seemed to pass in eons as Suna took in a shaky breath before turning to hug you tightly, burying his face into your neck so you couldn’t see his tears of relief.

“Of course I will. I won’t go anywhere, babe.”

Four years have passed since that night. Suna yawns and scrunches up his face slightly at the way the sunlight enters your shared bedroom. Squinting his eyes, he looks around the room and wonders if maybe he should’ve put on a shirt like you did last night to deal with the first bites of winter. Then again, you did take his shirt.

He then looks to you, sleeping quietly by his side. You looked a little like a mess; hair messy, dwarfed in his big shirt, cheek smushed against the pillow, but he thought you looked adorable. 

It’s cold, but he feels warm by your side. 

And when he looks down at your left hand resting under his even in your sleep, the sight of the silver ring with its diamonds adorning your finger makes his heart even warmer.