#so many people at this job have tried to make me feel like because I don’t have the background that I’m not good enough
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i'm in one of those phases where i really wish i believed in manifesting and spellcasting and things like that bc you know when you want something so bad you're literally praying for the universe to let it happen
#ramble#this is not me judging by the way i think it's cool as fuck i just don't do it personally#context: a lot of my 'dream jobs' are now just 'ways to make money that i might not absolutely hate'#but i have one (1) legit dream job and it's literally FINGERTIPS away from me right now#i feel like most people who know me can guess what it is and know how badly i want it#i'm not even letting myself daydream about it or talk about it too much because i'm so afraid of not getting it and being disappointed#and also i don't want to like. jinx it#i've tried so many times before but this is the closest i've ever been and i feel SICK i want to bite something
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Remember: The burning sensation is part of the process.
#Mouthwashing#blood#body horror#Emphasizing here that this is in reference to a media and character and not a cry for help on my end.#Mouthwashing is one of those games that tickles my brain and checks all the boxes for my niche interests -#-but it wasn't something that got the silly comic part in my cortex firing up. My analysis brain is eating well though!#What said...It is impossible for me to see this scene and not say out loud: “Me in the middle of my work day".#While there is a lot more going on with curly I personally resonated a lot with his struggles with burnout.#Burnout feels like mouthwash to me. That you keep rinsing out your mouth trying to get rid of the rotting smell#but it's just surface level solutions. The real cure requires something far more significant to actually make a difference.#The job 'is hard' and 'everyone struggles'. It's part of the process right? You're tired? Anxious? Depressed? Us too! Chin up!#Actually I resonated with a lot of things within Curly (this is a curly positive space - he's not perfect. He's just human).#One thing being his desire to see the good in people and believe in their potential.#Because here's the thing. Some people truly do just need someone in their corner who stands by them so they can grow and improve.#And some people will take advantage of your kindness. You focus so much on their humanity while you stop being a person to them.#The horrifically toxic relationship persists because Curly tries to see the bigger picture and believes in the good within.#Anyone who has lived through constantly trying to reframe the hurt as something else knows-#-just how many excuses your brain will make to avoid cognitive dissonance. It's human psychology.#Jimmy sucks so bad. But we the audience have the privilege of not having years of baggage associating him in our minds as 'friend'.
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Anything unusual?
You mean more unusual than... Well, than usual?
Hmmm... Not much...
Oh, though... I did just see a bloke swearing at a lamppost.
Yeah, a lamppost. There was a satchel hanging from it. He kept jumping, trying to grab at it. It was just out of his reach, the poor bugger.
Anyway...
Is that all you wanted to ask me?
#harry teller#neath!#fallen london#fl#sketch#i tried to make it sound like dialogue you might have with an npc#but ive never played fl#so i don't have a clue as to how much this feels like fl dialogue#bats#:3#idk#how do i tag this#without feeling desperate#like#my art#my artwork#pencil sketch#pencil drawing#pencil art#artists on tumblr#like geez#i feel like im just tagging these because i want attention from as many potential places as possible#even though i feel like those people aren't even gonna care#that might be pretty normal though#anyway#anyone wanna rant about harry teller headcanons with me#bro would march to hell and back for his job#bro is doing parkour down the streets of london to get his papers back#im running out of tags#the stupendium
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#is it normal that everyone feels sad and lonely most of the time#i cant imagine it being anything else#even when im surrounded by people or at events i feel disconnected#and is everyone just faking it or do they really love making plans going out#idk why im so nonfunctional it feels like whether or not i start feeling bad when i go out is 50/50#and i tried to join as many things as possible in my earlier years of college but i think it only succeeded in distracting me#and making me tired and sleep deprived and i felt like i was too shallowly involved in each thing bc i was spread too thin#but now ive quit almost everything and im just sad. i get jealous when people have plans and when they have friends. when they just go out#its just so tiring and all i ever want to do is lay in bed. but if i stay in bed i feel sad and guilty about missing out and wasting my life#everything stresses me out so easily. i cant play games bc i get anxious. ordering drinks in front of others makes me anxious. anything new#and i fear my anxiety gotten worse this year for just zero reason#im so tired im never getting better. next year my bf is travelling for over a month and im stuck in classes and busy and job hunting#and about to graduate#and i just know im going to be so lonely and so stressed and so depressed#it just kind of feels like i’ve tried so hard for years to be happier and cope with things healthier but i haven’t gotten anywhere.#perhaps im even worse now because i don’t even draw or consume any media anymore. i just barely work (and struggle the whole time) and sleep#my rambles
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Fuck fuck fuck low self-esteem has ruined my life.
#uchiha-gaeshi overshares#i should've known the signs when i got evaluated for adhd and my self perception was like#hold up gotta pull it up#and also disclaimer that this was a separate assessment for overall emotional wellbeing (or something like that) and this was just part of#the many tests that i had to take#ok. we're reaching even newer levels of oversharing here since i'm literally sharing evaluation results. but anywho#i was in the 96th percentile for sense of inadequacy; 17th percentile in (good) self esteem; 3rd percentile in self-reliance#and 3rd percentile in ego strength (i.e. satisfaction with self and one's abilities)#i saw this and got shocked and then forgot about it (in my defense there was a lot of stuff in the evaluation)#looks like it's more therapy for me. yay.#like there have been more times than not where i have felt less than to people around me. and fearing that people will see how pathetic#i actually am. god no wonder my desire to socialize decreased as my self esteem decreased#i might be repeating the same point over and over#ok so imma bring up the si/oc fic that i just dropped. like i think i *tried* to make a like a more confident version of myself; but i gues#i'll have to put it on pause because my teens were defined by feeling shit about myself. like idk what to do with a character like that#who's supposed to be making moves. like nothing would happen besides survivor's guilt#anyways back to the subject. as my gpa got pathetically low (i can't even share it here or else i'll probably deactivate this blog) and i#started losing jobs. i lost patience with myself. it seemed like other people were able to chug along with the demands of life while i was#fumbling around with no end in sight (tbh i wasn't the only one my close friend from college also has adhd and was really struggling and#another one might have dropped out. my childhood friend who also has adhd is in the same. exact. situation as i am with being unable to#go out in public since we feel like we can't be our “best selves”). then the old question came back: if i can't handle#high school/a part-time job/college on a low courseload then what the fuck was i going to do? some days i'd keep going with new strategies#or new ways to be more productive. but other days i didn't want to keep going#who knew it's not healthy to always assume that people are better than you? even though i have been reframing the more obvious thoughts#it's an automatic and unconscious impulse that just runs in the background of my head. idk if this is just a human thing or...#but because of this at times i'd hold myself back from fear of failure#anyways that's all i've lost my train of thought and have to do errands i've been putting off#txt
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I got asked by my big bosses TWICE about a project I was assigned to that my coworkers purposefully did not include me in. Then today they tried the “roast passive aggressively” and not expect me to ask questions back but it’s like. I was doing my fucking job I didn’t snitch on them I was just saying I don’t know what’s going on or what’s expected of me. I ask questions and they treat me like I’m stupid. I don’t and I’m not doing enough. I fully believe the majority of this staff wanted another person full time and that’s why they’ve been degrading me.
#they were both cis gay men too and they tried to make me feel homophobic because I’m a hijabi. but literally queer#I cannot escape these experiences because like how else was I going to get information about what we were doing#one of them was like “’energy is important to me’ like he hasn’t been giving me the evil eye for weeks#so many people at this job have tried to make me feel like because I don’t have the background that I’m not good enough#and before all this happened one of them told me he got a raise and I told him he deserved good things and to be happy.#I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.#no matter what I do. it’s wrong here and it’s not like I have another job#like one of them ‘I’m big on energy’ I said I was big on communication and suddenly one boss wrote something down.#like what the actual fuck why do I keep going through this one of them was giving me the same evil look#glaring and crying them white queers used to give me
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long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on
#on holiday I was like oHHHHH this is what living in the moment is! What listening to your body is! what not worrying about how you look is#but doing what makes you happy#and then …… I came home and got sent the pictures#+ my friend being. unintentionally fatphobic as fuck#while hurtful as fuck too#and it’s all just been piling up too since I got home because I’ve been having a lot of conversations and seeing a lot of people that#confront me with who I used to be and who I am now and how I’m really not happy with that#and it feels like it’s not gonna get better#like I’m destined to be in a job I like but isn’t what I want because I’m not capable enough and I’ll never know what romantic requited love#feels like. I’ll never cure my vaginismus I’ll never be able to let someone in or they won’t want me this is just it for me#and SOMEHOW the way I look has become the ultimate culmination of all those things?#my face is suddenly a woman in her thirties face#I keep gaining weight despite not even eating all that much because FUCKING PCOS makes it impossible#my hair in my face grew back. my stomach is hairy and that plus the added beer belly just makes it look like I’m a 50 year old man#I am soooooooo tired of the dysphoria#and the way pcos ruins fucking everything because I can restrict calories all I want and move all I want but will it help ? No !#and of the fact that it impacts the way I feel about myself so much because I’m convinced now I’ll never find anyone#should have tried harder when I was 21 because that was the only time in my life I reasonably fit society’s standards like That was my shot#I’ve been taking supplements everyone says will help but I’m not sure I noticed anything in the past six months and I can’t take berberine#because it fucks with my heart medication. which. That too. I have that too#and I’m in pain! All the time now! ALL THE TIME so I can’t even work out to keep the weight stable because guess what ?#just after a normal day at the office I come home and have to lie down because everhthing hurts so much !#today I got an impromptu massage in an attempt to feel better but it didn’t fix shit and I had to buy clothes for kings day after#and I didn’t try them on just quickly grabbed some orange shit to try on at home and at what I saw in the mirror I genuinely got nauseous#I just don’t know who that is in the mirror but it’s not me and I can’t accept it. I’ve been trying so hard but I can’t#it genuinely makes me so sad and I keep telling myself that a reduction will help in feeling more like myself and it will help with the pain#but what if it doesn’t? what if my pain doesn’t go away after af all and my stomach just juts out and I feel like a gremlin all the time#what then. what the fuck do we do then. also I’m so fucking scared of that surgery anyway that I don’t fucking want to do it anymore#I want so many things and all of them feel out of reach and I know my own brain is my worst enemy and it’s not rooted in anything real but.#Isn’t it? really — isn’t it???????
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My therapist: ya know you can just. Choose to not have a relationship with someone if you don’t want to have a relationship with them. This person’s caused you a lot of problems and it’s perfectly reasonable to not want to associate with them.
Me: I’m sorry what
Shit therapists say really does feel like those "shouldn't this be obvious" game loading screen tips. Like you got stuff like "communicating your feelings verbally will make others aware of how you feel" and "if you feel overwhelmed in a situation, you can remove yourself from the situation until you calm down" and you roll your eyes like ugh isn't that just common sense, but someone who got thrown in with no tutorial and is operating everything completely wrong will spit out their cereal like HOLD ON YOU CAN JUST DO THAT?
#I can think of so many examples of this it’s not even funny. and honestly I feel like this something about therapy that a lot people get#wrong. like I feel like before I had tried therapy I was thinking of the Freud set up where some dude is like mm yes#you’re like this because of your shitty dad. give me 200 dollars#but honestly a good portion of therapy is discussing your problems in a really safe space and trying to get you out of your tunnel vision#like you can be so fuckin focused on a problem that a viable solution is impossible to think of#like I just realized that I really want to be left alone after work (I work in food service so my work is noisy and social and I have to#be really attentive for the entirety of my shift)#and so by the time I get home I’m exhausted#and very snippy because it’s too loud in my house and people are talking to me and I just want some quiet#I’m allowed to go to my room and get some quiet before facing people.#while I have always known I needed to quiet to calm down after the chaos of my job it had honestly never occurred to me that I could just.#have quiet time#being denied autonomy and having your social/emotional needs ignored from a young age makes your brain squishy I swear
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#yeah so I'm absolutely having a breakdown#which sucks because ive been doing alright for awhile#and it makes sense tbh#not to invalidate myself#so many things that are outside of my control have gone wrong recently#someone tried to steal my car again and I'm fixing it myself because I can't afford to bring it somewhere#and the job that would change my life keeps ghosting me#and I need to let my landlord know about renewing my lease yesterday (literally yesterday i was supposed to) but im waiting on this job#and money is tight#and my insurance is stalling on covering my migraine meds#to get a 3 day supply is >100$ through the lowest discount card#and to get a full month supply costs more than my rent at its cheapest#so I've been mostly in pain and lowkey confused as the drug works its way out of my system#and I'm on my period which destabilized because i had to come off my birth control for the first time in years (due to the migraines)#I watched a car flip the other night#and if that weren't enough I can't stop remembering the last time i saw a car flip and two people died on impact#and my dad was dragging bodies out of the car on fire#...we had been driving to the ER because I had tried to kill myself again#all I could think was that it should have been me#and I slept with a guy at work which was fine neither of us wanted it to be a thing#but now he's seeing this new girl that works with us and they're making my life hell about it#and I just don't have a single friend or anyone I feel is there for me#I never get to have that and I don't know why#literally no one gives a shit I could say I'm dying ij this room and it still wouldn't be as important as some guy so and so is pining after#I don't matter unless im useful#I feel like I'm screaming and no one can hear me#fuck this man we were doing so good there for a bit#Genuinely afraid im reaching a breaking point I'll never recover from
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Why am I, the Woman, villanized?
I'm a full-time student, and I work 30 hours a week (that's 6 hours short of full-time), and yet, I can't sit and relax without someone huffing and puffing about something being dirty.
I'm not the one who fills the sink.
I'm not the one who fills the trash.
I'm not the one who leaves my dirty clothes all over the bathroom floor (and those clothes fucking stink... They smell worse than the literal boxes of cat shit that sit in the same room)
I'm not the one that hogs the clothes machines for DAYS at a time because I can't be arsed to move them.
There are two cats. One isn't mine, but I am the one caring for both cats full time. Emptying the boxes, buying and administering the flea meds, cleaning and filling water/food bowls.
I'm afraid to start a video game. 1. Because nobody can fucking respect that I'm trying to enjoy something and 2. Because when the dishes pile up in the sink, I'm the one stuck dealing with it.
There are fast food cups rotting in the bedroom because I am not cleaning up after a grown-ass man (they've been accumulating since we broke up (August))
There is shit accumulating on the table.
I will move out when the lease is up. And when I do, I hope these boys fucking suffer as they realize they ran off one of the most patient women they'll ever find.
#im mouthy sure#but im pretty patient#i can think of so many people who would've already left#or just stopped picking up after them#i hate this fucking country#because I SHOULD be able to live independently like the adults my age did 20 years ago#i feel like a prisoner#unfortunately women shoulder an immense emotional burden that men dont fucking understand#and that burden is DRAINING#its hard to work a job that drains you and then come home to man-children who drain you#i just wanna live alone in a one room one bathroom hole with a veiw#WALGREENS KEEPS PROCESSING MY FUCKING REFILL BUT NEVER ACTUALLY FILL IT#FUCK#god damn groundskeeper makes hos job harder on himself by pointing the blower into the corner and blowing debris into the apartment#fucking roomate who doesn't fucking understand how fucking doors work tries to tell me im wrong#THERES A GAP IN THE DOOR WHERE THE FUCKING BUGS GET IN THIS PLACE WAS BUILT CHEAP#I FUCKING HATE HOW INCOMPETENT SOME MEN ARE and they like to act so smart#AND THEY FUCKING MAKE SNIDE REMARKS ABOUT YOUR AGGRAVATION but YOU cant do it back#Most of the men Ive met are so GODDAMN SELFISH#i wish my mom would let me be gay. Not only do I want to try it but also... women have a tenderness that most men lack#im so fucking tired#and fucking annoyed#i cant do my fucking laundry#yeah the washer is available but I cant dry the clothes. and leaving the damp clothes in the washer is fucking stupid#thats how you get mildew stink#can you guys hope i get the LBL internship? 🙏#it provides money and lodging (and experience lol) and its IN THE WOODS THE FUCKING NATIONAL PARK YALL#LBL is Land Between the Lakes National Park in KY and I wanna be there#Id actually like to work there too ngl#in the nature
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Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: PG-13 Tags: who did this to you, hurt, comfort, hurt/comfort, injury, implied violence, brief violence mentions, angst, canon sylus behavior, blood mentions, kissing if you squint Summary: You barely survived a night on your own in the N109 Zone without the watchful gaze of certain Onychinus leader, but at what cost? Word Count: 1.5k
The dull sound of your door closing was like the snap of a final curtain call falling into place and you slumped against it, relieved to be safely in your own apartment. You had survived a night in the N109 Zone on your own, but it had been a near miss. One you wouldn’t be repeating, especially since the intel you wanted had been a bust, anyway.
You touched your side, your breathing uneven, and you wince. You definitely have a cracked rib. You try to take a deep breath and pain radiates from your chest into your stomach, making you a little nauseous. Okay, maybe two.
You were trying to psych yourself up to move and trudge into your apartment to give yourself much needed medical attention when the reverberating shock of someone's forceful knock bounced you against your door-frame. You consider not answering the insistent caller on the other side, but a muffled, familiar baritone floats through the door.
"Open the door, sweetie."
A sigh left your lips at the demand and you tried to stifle the pathetic, painful whimper that your exasperation cost you. Of all the people on the other side of that door, Sylus was the most unexpected. Or maybe not, considering he boasted that he knew everything that went on in his territory. Maybe that’s why he was here and if it was, he wouldn’t leave until his curiosity was satisfied.
The door cracks open and you stare up at him through the hole you made, reluctant to allow him entrance and to partially block his view of the damage those thugs had caused when they mugged you in the alleyway earlier tonight. However, Sylus’s easy smile is nowhere to be found and the frown lines on his forehead are the deepest you've ever seen them. His large hand wraps around the door-frame so you can’t close it again and he pushes gently against it, but you don’t budge.
"Who did this to you?" His tone is dangerously low.
You ignore his question, instead poking your head out to look down the deserted hallway of your apartment building. "Why are you here? It's dangerous." It was risky for Sylus to wander around Linkon City normally, even if he claimed many people didn't know what he actually looked like. However, the Hunter’s Association did and your building was crawling with employees at all hours of the day and night.
"You didn't answer your phone, so I got worried."
Oh right, you had forgotten they had taken that too. You sighed again, the pain of having to replace everything beginning to give you a headache. That key charm Zayne had given you for your birthday was perhaps the worst thing to have lost, maybe more than the phone itself.
"Let me in, kitten." Sylus’s voice is gently cajoling and you concede because you're too tired to argue with him tonight. So you open the door and try to act normal, but your voice is far too lighthearted for how heavy your legs feel as you trudge into the apartment.
“You know, if you keep frowning like that you’ll get wrinkles and people really will think you’re an old man.”
He follows you in with a small chuckle, his eyes bouncing around the room as if the perpetrators could be hiding in the shadows. When you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down to tend to your injuries, Sylus was suddenly there, kneeling in front of you. His hands push yours out of the way and he silently takes over the job of nurse, and you think about fighting him as you watch him roll up his shirtsleeves but realize you were just too exhausted to care.
“What happened?” He asks eventually and you realize you will have to tell him something. Lying won’t work, he’ll find out if he didn’t already know.
“What often happens when you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time in the N109 Zone, Sylus.” You offer with a single shrug, doing your best to sit still while he cleans the wound on your arm. “You know that better than me.”
“Were you wearing–” he was referring to the brooch that signified your status as protected.
“They took that too.” His hands stilled on the bandage he was applying on your forearm. “Did they, now?” he murmured silkily and you saw a muscle in his jaw tick, though his expression was partially obscured by his unruly hair. “After all that trouble I went through, too.” You tried to make a joke to ease the tension which earned you a soft amused twitch of Sylus’s lips. He was too angry to truly smile and you could feel it radiating off of him in waves. Despite that, his hands were painstakingly gentle as he touched what was clearly a blossoming bruise around your wrist. Sylus’s tender touch lingers on your injuries and he checks each one with a thoroughness that feels as if he’s memorizing exactly where you were hurt.
He orders some of your favorite food, helps you get cleaned up, and tucks you into your bed. He points to the notepad you kept by your bedside table that you sometimes scribble notes on when you took calls. “Make me a list of what they looked like, and then go to bed. I’ll take care of the rest.” Before you could protest, he left the room abruptly. You picked up the notepad and stared at the print of the cute little animals dancing around the top. You’d bought it on a whim after seeing how cute it looked in a stationary shop window near one of your mission sites. It seemed too obscene to write what would virtually be a hit list on such charming paper.
Instead, you scribble all of the reasons you’re grateful for today. Right at the top was that you had survived all on your own in the N109 Zone and you were able to see the infamous Onychinus leader kneeling at your feet. The list grew as you included the tasty food you ate earlier, and the glimpse of a suspiciously familiar crow you saw on your way into work this morning. The page was halfway filled when the pain medication Sylus had convinced you to take started to kick in and you felt your eyelids drooping.
Drowsily, you snuggle down underneath your covers and clutch the plushie Sylus and you had won at the arcade last weekend. When you hear the distant muffled click of your door opening, you try to rouse yourself but you felt so warm and your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t manage it. That doesn’t stop you from trying until a large hand gently smoothed back your mussed hair, and the sensation of soft knuckles trace the curve of your cheek. “It’s just me,” the familiar voice murmured and you tried to speak but he shushed you. “Sleep, kitten.”
You swear you felt the ghost of his lips on yours before he was gone, but maybe it was just part of the hazy dream you had of crows, violence, and enchanting sanguine eyes.
Sylus returns to the N109 Zone and finds himself staring at the “list,” a bemused smile on his face. He shakes his head and tucks the cutesy page into his pocket. You were far too adorable and it made what he was about to do that much more satisfying, sauntering into the abandoned warehouse where your phone had last pinged; deceptively calm. The screams and stench of death shuddered throughout the N109 Zone tonight, serving as a violent and bloody reminder to all that no one should dare to touch what was his lest they face the consequences.
Sometime in the early hours of the morning, your fingers fumble for your buzzing phone and land on the familiar outline of the brooch, both in their normal places as if yesterday was just a bad dream. Through your sleepy daze, you realize your other hand is occupied–as is your bed. Turning, you’re surprised to find Sylus is fast asleep next to you, his hand intertwined tightly with yours. There’s deep circles under his eyes, but his normally furrowed brow is smoothed out in sleep. With a sleepy smile, you curl back up to let him rest a little while longer, tucking your joined hands against your chest, cuddling his arm.
You both doze off together, and you’ve never felt so safe.
#sorry if there's mistakes i didnt beta and im sleepy#who did this to you#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#lads sylus#sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x you#sylus fluff#love and deepspace sylus#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace#my writing#sylus fic#sylus fanfiction#sylus x reader fluff#lads x you
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didn’t mean a thing
˚✧ ゚neuvillette x reader, wriothesley x reader (separate) ˚✧ ゚
(they say something mean to reader when reader tries to surprise them)
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neuvillette
The chief of justice often feels the pressure of his role. Lately the cases have been weighing heavy on him, more so than usual.
The amount of unattended cases and trials to come up only makes the judge more anxious, more stressed, and worst of all more irritable.
He hasn’t been taking care of himself, often prioritizing his job over his health and it breaks your heart. You’ve caught him taking naps in his office when you’d stop by to visit so you thought of making him something to help him during his times when he sleeps.
You're a local seamstress, but you have a good hand for crocheting as well. You often make small crochet plushies for the orphans and melusines so you thought a small pillow would work wonders for nevi when he takes naps in his office.
The iudex is sat at his desk reading over one of the many cases piled up next to him. His migraine forms as he sighs, taking a sip of cool water in hopes to somewhat ease it.
He hears a soft knock at his door and ignores it at first. The people he works with know not to bother the chief when he has this much work to do. but the knock is heard again making him sigh, putting the documents down.
“Come in.” He calls out, seeing your head peek in, a soft smile already playing on your lips.
“Hello love!” you beam, you love visiting your husband at work. You don’t get to see him home too often, you take any chance you get to drop by.
“Hello,” he greets back, mouth forming a straight line. “Is something the matter?” He asks, wasting no time.
“No, I just wanted to drop off something for you.” You smile, feeling how off he was right away. He must be so drained you think, trying to dismiss the uninterested tone in his voice.
You pull a small bag from behind your back and walk up to him, holding it out for him to grab.
His face remains neutral and you feel small under his gaze, regretting interrupting his work.
It’s strange though, he usually always welcomes you with a warm smile, ushering you in to spend time with him. Today was different.
He begrudgingly moves his chair back and eyes the bag.
What’s so important that you have to interrupt his work?
He grabs the bag from you and you pull your hand back as he peeks in, moving the wrapping paper aside.
His hand comes up to the bridge of his nose when he sees a small pillow with blue and white lace trimming at the edges in the bag.
He doesn't know what he expected and he doesn’t understand why he feels so bothered but he can’t help it.
“Is this all?” He asks, putting the wrapping paper back on top, handing you the bag back like it was something that made him upset.
“I made it for you. You often take breaks and sleep in your office so I thought-“
“That’s the problem you know.” He cuts you off before you can finish, making you step back a bit.
“You think, what you do will make things better for people or you know what people need.” He brushes off the small gift like nothing.
“I just wanted you to get proper rest, you look tired. I know you haven’t been getting much sleep because of all the cases and-“
“And you’re the one stopping me from finishing them right now, right? I don’t need you always checking up or stopping by when you feel like it. Some of us take our jobs seriously. It’s suffocating having you stop by everyday. I need space and time to do my own job alone. Thank you very much.” He’s almost out of breath by the end of it, his eyes narrow at you, you feel what the verdicts of the cases feel when he judges them.
You don’t know what to say. You feel small under his gaze and he doesn’t even flinch, after all he’s said he stands his ground.
“Forgive me for worrying in the slightest, it won’t happen again.” Your voice falls flat, you dig your nails in your palm to stop the sting in your eyes as you turn to leave.
Reaching the door you half expect him to stop you, apologize or something but it never happens. You step outside and feel your tears drop, lowering your head from gazes around you.
You head to your home with a heavy heart. You feel utterly stupid. You should’ve seen the signs, you knew he was on edge because of work and you walked right into it like a spider's web.
You reach your house feeling drained. You slowly make your way to your room to continue working on small plushies for the orphans to take your mind off the harsh words you hear earlier. Throwing the small pillow you made into the trash before you get to work. He doesn’t want it and neither do you.
Neuvillette lets out a content sigh. He’s done his work, more than half of the cases he’s reviewed and he feels better. Enough to call it a day and head home somewhat earlier than normal. Maybe he can catch a meal with you, something he hasn’t done in ages.
He opens the door to your shared home and takes note of how quiet it is. Is it usually this quiet when you’re alone?
The living room was dim, the only source of light was flooding the from the cracks of your shared bedroom.
He hangs his coat and makes his way to your shared bedroom. He wants nothing more than to spend time with you.
You hear your bedroom door creak but don’t bother to turn around, already knowing who it was. You made a promise to yourself to stop being overbearing with him, he told you it’s suffocating, you never want him to feel that way with you.
He feels his lips tug upwards a bit at the sight of you. You were stitching some plushies, your work always so beautiful and delicate.
“Hello my love.” He speaks softly, he knows he acted out of place earlier but he wants to make it up to you. He knows you only care, that just the kind of sweet genuine person you are.
“Hello.” You welcome him barely above whisper, not looking up at him. You lay in bed crocheting a small plushie.
“Are you going to drop those off at the orphanage tomorrow?” He asks, heart filling with utter adoration at the sight of you making your beautiful plushies.
“Yes.” You answer, nodding your head as you cut the end of the yarn off.
“Would you like me to assist you?” He asks, you feel like it’s a trick question. After all he has told you today he asks this?
“No need. You have work, I can go with Navia.” You decline, he stands there for a second before clearing his throat.
“Why of course, please send my regards when you stop by.” He asks and you nod.
What’s wrong? You’ve never declined his offers of helping you. Were you not feeling well?
“I’m going to wash up dear, afterwards I’ll make us something to eat.” His voice is much softer than earlier. You don’t understand what he wants anymore. It’s confusing.
While Neuvillette was showering you warmed up his portion of the dinner you made, setting it up on his bedside table. You were hurt by his words but you still want him to eat.
After preparing his meal on his bedside table, you grab your pillow and an extra blanket heading to the living room couch. As much as his words hurt you, you still want to hold him, talk to him and have him close but he doesn’t want that. He made it more than clear in his office.
After Neuvillette’s shower, he’s greeted with a meal on his nightstand. He looks around the room and notices you're not in bed anymore. He catches sight of your plushie on your nightstand and thinks you went to use the other restroom.
He gets changed and smiles at the meal you made for him. Always helping him when he knows you work just as hard as he does, if not even harder than he does. You’re passionate about your work and he adores that side of you.
He buttons up his shirt and sits in bed, looking at the clock. It's been over 15 minutes since he’s gotten out. Why weren't you back in bed?
He stands and walks over to your side of the bed where the plushie lays on the nightstand. From the corner of his eye a blue and white lace trimming catches his attention and he looks down at the small bin next to your side of the bed.
He reaches in and pulls out the small pillow you had brought to his office earlier that day, he feels his heart sink. Remembering his harsh words and how he gave it back to you without a second thought. He feels guilty.
You threw this beautiful pillow away because of his foolish outburst. He feels like a fool for talking to you in such a way. Your guarded attitude made more sense now that he realizes it.
He clutches the small pillow in his hold and looks to your side of the bed, noticing your pillow missing.
His legs move on their own, opening your room door greeted with the dark living room only a candle being your source of light.
He can see you laying on the couch and he feels his eyes burn.
As he nears you he hears you crying and his heart tugs at the sound.
He wouldn’t dare let you sleep alone, ever.
He says nothing as he turns to you and you quickly turn away to hide your tears.
He kneels down a bit. Arms circling under your legs and head, picking you up with ease as he grabs your pillow before making his way back to your room.
You feel more tears spill. What was all this? What does he want?
He stops in the room after closing the door behind him. The only sound to be hard was your sniffling before you heard rain, rain droplets hitting your window.
He holds you closer, tighter in his hold.
“My love, I’m terribly sorry for my words that have caused you to feel the need to distance yourself. I’m sorry I disregarded your gift for me. I will cherish it forever.” He whispers, his legs moving once again making his way to your side of the bed.
He softly lays you down before standing again, you see the pillow you thee away on your nightstand and feel more tears spill.
He turns, he knows he should give you space, give you time alone and as much as he wants to hold you he has to respect your boundaries.
Before he can get too far he feels a hug in his wrist, he feels his own tears spill.
Your heart, which is too kind and forgiving, knows him too well. He truly doesn’t deserve you.
“Please don’t leave.” You whisper, he only nods, who’s he to say no? After all he’s done today he’d be a fool.
He climbs into bed, arms immediately grabbing you, laying you on top of him as the rain outside gets louder.
“My love, I apologize for my actions. Please find it in your heart to forgive a fool like me, not right now but when you can.” He can only whisper, if he speaks any louder he’s scared he’ll cry more.
You nod your head as it lays on his chest “yes my love, I do.” you hug him, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be here right now you tell yourself. The fact that he’s here right now shows so much.
You hear his heartbeat steady and the rain outside subside. Knowing he’s calmed down, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Neuvillette holds you closer, making a promise to himself and you to never act out of place like that again. Not with you, who’s so caring and giving he’ll cherish you forever along with the pillow you made for him today.
wriothesley
The duke is in charge of many things, running the fortress of meropide is one. Dealing with troublesome inmates to make sure they know their place and meetings that consist of various things for him to arrange.
Wriothesley was making his way back from a meeting with Neuvillette. He has asked him about an inmate, asking him to bring him up for further questioning, giving him the inmates name and number before he left.
Neuvillette had given him a small paper with the number and name. Wriothesly had memorized it just after a few glances at the small paper. But during his busy day out he has misplaced it. And as the day went on he was worried he’d forget.
He didn’t want to trouble Neuvillette with another meeting to give him the number again so he’s been repeating it while making his way to his office.
You decided to bring Wrio some food and tea. Upon arriving at his office you found it empty and decided to surprise him for when he comes back. Sitting on the small couch by his desk, setting up his meal for when he comes.
You often have one or two days out of the month where you catch up and eat lunch together in his office. It's one of the ways that you get to see him more besides when he comes home to sleep.
No one dared to stop the duke as he made his way to his office, the look on his face alone was screaming don’t approach me right now.
You hear his office door open and hear his footsteps echoing up the staircase, you stand up and wait by the edge of the stairs happy to see him.
He doesn’t even look your way when he reaches the top, instead he brushes past you. Mumbling some numbers under his breath.
“Wrio.” You call out softly, making him whip his head back. He didn’t even notice you were here, let alone see you standing right by him.
“What’re you doing here?” He asks, it comes out harsher than he intends.
“I brought you food! We haven’t had lunch in a while, I made your favorite too. It’s been sometime since we’ve sat down and had a home cooked meal.” You beam, smiling at him and pointing to his desk behind him where you set up the food.
“That’s great, but right now isn’t the time.” He brushes you off. Walking to the cabinet where all the inmates' files are repeating the number in his head still.
“I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you tend to look over your health because of work. This can help you focus on your work more! I even brought your favorite tea to go with it.” You walk to his desk and pour the hot tea into his favorite cup.
“Just take a second and eat, take care of yourself and-“
“Do you ever stop?” He feels his grip on the cabinet tighten as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
You stop talking and look over at him.
“I’m sorr-“
“I have an office to do my work, for peace and quiet as I do so. No one has the right to waltz in here and think they can have a tea party and talk their heads off while I work.” He slowly turns to you.
You only swallow, not knowing how to respond.
“You know I have more important things to do than have a meal with you. You talk so much, too much sometimes and you don’t know when to stop and it’s bothersome. Learn how to stop at times and not bother people when they’re working, yeah?” He scolds, roughly shoving the cabinet closed.
You look down at the desk, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
You feel like you’re glued to the floor. You can’t move.
“I’d like to get back to work, I don’t have time for all this. I’d be best if you went back to work as well.” He sits at his desk with a file and you feel your eyes sting.
Leaving the food on his desk and grabbing your bag. Walking downstairs and away from his office that felt suffocating, you should’ve just minded your business.
You walk out of his office, closing the door softly as his words ring in your head.
Seigwinne sees you, walking up but stopping In his tracks when she sees your solemn expression. She’s studied humans enough to know that the emotion you were feeling was sadness.
You make your way home, stepping inside and locking the door as you feel the first tear run down your face.
You know how much you talk, you know many people don’t like it but Wriothesley never said anything about it. He’s always listened to you, saying it helps him relax. During work he’s often doing the talking so hearing you talk, it brings him peace. He also loves your voice.
When did he start getting annoyed? Has it been a while? What if he’s been tired of hearing me this whole time? You question yourself. Coming to the conclusion that you need to stop. Stop talking so much and taking up his time. It’s for the better.
When Wriothesley ends the meeting with the inmate he finally feels some tension release from his shoulders. He’s been running around all day and he hasn’t had time to sit in peace.
From the time on the clock he sees it reaching seven pm and decides to call it a day. He’s done the most important task already. He can attend other matters tomorrow.
As he cleans up his desk he notices the food and tea, remembering you stopped by earlier to chat with him. Remembering what a jerk he was and how he told you to leave.
He sighs when he notices what you made. You have a habit of putting others' priorities before yours and he feels bad for how he responded. He packs up the food to take it back home, to reheat and eat with you like you wanted.
When he arrives home, he notices how quiet it was inside. He pushes the door open and is met with a small lamp in the kitchen and spots you sitting on the couch, book in hand.
“I’m home darling.” He calls out, seeing you turn to him, giving him a small smile then turning back to your book.
His eyebrows draw together, he loves coming home and seeing you. Always so excited and giddy asking him about his day and telling him about yours but you didn’t even respond to him.
“I brought the food you made back home, I wanted to reheat it and eat with you. We haven’t spent time with each other in a while.” He speaks up, pulling his tie down a-bit as he still sees you reading your book.
Why weren’t you responding? He thinks, you’re never this quiet.
“Have you eaten?” He pushes, trying to get something out of you, anything.
“Not hungry.” You answer, simple and quick. Not even looking away from your book this time.
He feels nervous. He feels something off.
“I’ll heat it up, if you want some please eat.” He sighs, the tension is heavy but nothing happens. He knows something’s off with you.
In silence the duke eats alone on the table, sending you glances as you continue to turn the pages of your book. Not indulging him in your ranting he’s come to grow ‘annoyed of’. He made it clear earlier.
“The food is delicious, thank you for making this.” He tires again, this time you look up. He smiles a bit but you do something that makes him believe something is off, you only send him a thumbs up in return.
He finishes his half and saves you yours for when you get hungry, putting it away and making his way to you.
“Y/n darling. Is something the matter?” He asks, making his way closer to you. Seeing you shift uncomfortably from where you sit.
“Nope.” You shake your head, not daring to look at him. You can feel him coming closer.
He kneels down, inspecting you. The corners of your eyes were a bit red, but nothing else seemed off. Were you feeling sick?
His hand reaches up to feel your forehead but you move away.
“I’m not sick.” You speak up as you dodge his touch. He feels his hand freeze.
“Use your words, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He asks, placing hands next to both sides of your legs caging you in.
“I’m not one of your inmates, don’t order me to do things.” You speak up, still not daring to look up at him, you can feel his piercing eyes on you.
He’s taken aback at your response.
“I’m not ordering you y/n, I’m just worried.” He sighs, pulling your book down to get you to look at him.
“I said I’m fine, can I get back to reading?” You glance up at him. Trying your best to not let anything slip though. You don’t want him to see how much his words hurt you.
He decides to stop, for now. He knows something’s wrong. You’re too stubborn to tell him though.
He walks into your shared bedroom and into the bathroom to shower, racking his brain to think of what possibly could have made you so upset. The whole time he spends in there he can’t think of why you’re refusing to respond properly.
It’s already later when he gets out, the steam from the bathroom becoming visible when he opens the door.
He sees you in bed and he can help but feel at ease. You came to bed at least. He walks over to the closet eyes you as he does, a small smile making its way onto his lips at the sight of how you look.
He starts changing and notices you’re faced away from him. He quietly steps around and sees you hugging a pillow and he feels this heavy feeling in his chest again.
Did he do something?
He lays down next to you, you feel the bed dip and try your hardest to not turn around. You’d probably hug him and start talking and annoy him again. He probably doesn't want that.
You feel like such a fool. All day his words have been affecting you. You’re too scared to speak again.
You hug the pillow closer to you and feel your eyes burn once again. Hearing those words from him hurt more than anything. You don’t want to show him how much it hurts you though. He doesn’t need to know. He said what he said and what’s done is done.
He lays there for a bit, the tension still surrounding you. He’s unsure of what to do. He wants to hold you, pull you in but what if you move again.
That’s when he hears it, the small sound of sniffing. He freezes. His heart drops making him stand.
You feel the bed move and hear him stand, you think the worst. Maybe he’s leaving because he’s annoyed. He doesn’t want to deal with this. You don’t know why you’re crying but it won’t stop. He just told you something that bothered him and you took it too personally. You’re both hurt and upset and you don’t understand why.
It’s quiet for a few seconds but then you feel a firm hand gently grab your arm, lifting you off the bed effortlessly.
You try to hide your face but Wriothesley has had enough of this.
“Hey hey, look at me.” He softly calls out.
You try to hold it in but you feel more tears run down. Placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away but his sturdy frame doesn’t budge.
“I’m fine, j-just tired.” You try to sound convincing despite your voice cracking. Struggling against his hold, pushing him a bit harder to move.
You resist in his hold and he feels his heart break even more.
“Y/n what’s wrong?” He grabs your hands, stopping your struggle and you look down, not wanting to look at him.
“Nothing, I’ve talked enough today. I don’t want to anymore.” You try to sound convincing, trying to pull your arms out of his grasp.
He’s taken aback, talked too much? You haven’t even talked at all. Where is this even coming from- oh.
oh
He stills, eyes boring into your head as you avoid his gaze.
“I didn’t mean it earlier y/n. I didn’t mean anything I said earlier. It doesn’t excuse if I was mad or busy telling you that wasn't something I ever meant. I love hearing you talk. I love your voice. Don’t ever think that I want you to stop.” He explains, knowing he was the reason for it all now. What a jerk he’s been.
He drops his head, resting it on yours. He waits a bit seeing if you’d pull away but you don’t. “Darling, I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart I am. I miss hearing you talk. The house is eerily quieter without your beautiful voice and laughter echoing through these halls.” He speaks softly, hearing a small sob escape your lips.
You move back a bit, looking up at him and taking a breath. “But you told me- I don’t want to annoy you.” You hiccup, finally letting more tears fall. It’s been eating you alive. It hurts. It hurts so bad because someone you love told you.
“No no, you’d never, and you never ever had. Do you understand?” He makes it clear, seeing your pretty eyes filled with tears he grabs your face.
Your behavior makes sense now, how could he have been so mean to you? He truly is such a fool.
His hands slowly lift to your face, testing the waters to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t pull back. “Please talk to me. Don’t hold back or hide your voice dear. Scold me, tell me what I did wrong.” He pleads, the look in his eyes desperate.
You nod, wiping your tears when he brings your head to his chest hugging you close. “Please forgive me.” He repeats, squeezing you tighter when you let out a small ‘yes’.
He holds you close, and though you said you forgive him. He can’t take you for granted, not when you’re the best thing to ever come into his dull life. So he repeats it over and over, until you both fall asleep.
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authors note: hello my lovelies HIIIIII!!! (/^▽^)/ it’s been a while but I come with a gift ANGST!! hehe neuvi and Wrio are such sweet men this was kind of a rough one but them with them seems so AMAZING! I hope you all had a lovely holiday and you’re all taking care! Hope I enjoy yet another angst with comfort! take care loves, bagel miss u all mwahhh <33 ^~^! (DISCLAIMER!! this was not edited or looked over, apologies for any misspelled words or incorrect grammar!!)
#genshin impact#genshin impact oneshots#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact angst#genshin impact hurt/comfort#genshin impact neuvillette#genshin impact wriothesley#neuvillette x reader#wriosthesley x reader#genshin angst#hurt/comfort#neuvillette angst#wriothesley angst
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Favors in exchange for kisses
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ca720fcca886e66f8a43eeaf21f44525/69363097a63d06f1-4f/s500x750/fa0e17d8178d05923ec39305f1a98ac7f4808bf2.jpg)
warnings: kisses, English its not my first language, small mention of blood. f!reader
1,5 K words
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You don't know exactly how you got into this situation with Jason. But you're not complaining.
It started months ago, when your long-time friend Dick Grayson heard you complaining about not having a place to live and mentioned that he knew someone you could trust to share an apartment with, with his brother, Jason Todd.
You were hesitant to accept, after all, you didn't know Jason Todd, but this was Gotham, and finding someone you could trust to share an apartment with was almost impossible. And it would only be for a while.So you went to live with Dick Grayson's brother.
Jason was kind of quiet, mysterious, and his blue eyes left you a little confused and breathless. It took you a while to be able to have meaningful conversations with him, it was hard to learn more about him, but little by little you won a small space in his life.You discovered his favorite books, learned his schedule, understood how sometimes he didn't want to talk, other times he was more open, and you learned to appreciate those moments when you both talked, laughed and smiled softly.
Then came the biggest problem.
Jason was too helpful.
You simply didn't know how to deal with someone who did so many acts of service. When he found out that banana pancakes were your favorite, he woke up early and cooked them. When you complained about that wood that was making noise in the living room, he fixed it immediately. Even when carrying your bag down the street, he would magically appear and hold it. Your coffee was always with those three drops of milk, just the way you liked it.
And when you tried to reciprocate, he seemed almost offended. Like the time you made a big meal, he was offended, you seemed tired from the effort and he didn't like that. Even when you cleaned his things he seemed irritated, you weren't supposed to do things for him.
After months of looking for ways to thank him for his helpfulness, you discovered it in an unusual way. Your room wasn't fully furnished, even months after moving in you were still buying furniture and needing to assemble it. Jason dismissed all the delivery people from the store and said he would assemble it himself, using the excuse that he didn't like strangers in his space.
"You spoil me," you joked with him, sitting on the floor as you watched Jason working on your new vanity. It wasn't a bad sight, Jason's large hands proving skillful and efficient, his t-shirt revealing his biceps that made you a little dizzy.
"I find doing manual labor relaxing." He replied, glancing at you and smiling slightly. You hummed in response, resting your chin on your knees and admiring Jason. You wanted so badly to find something to thank him for, something to show him that you were grateful for him.
When he finally finished the job, he stood up and held out his hand to help you. After gaining momentum, your hands instinctively went to his arm and gave it a squeeze.
"Thank you so much, Jay."
He was silent, you were silent. It seemed too intimate a touch, you were nervous, afraid he wouldn't like it, that he would ask you to never touch him again, which would be a shame because your hands could feel the heat of his skin. Then he smiled. He smiled, a dimple in his cheek.
"Nothing, princess."
After that, the touches became more frequent. Every time he did something adorable, you would touch his arms or his hand. Like the time he carried all your college books for meters and you held his hand in thanks (you stayed like that for longer than usual).
Another big step was when you arrived tired, from a horrible day, and you found Jason smiling shyly at you, the apartment smelling of your favorite food. As you washed dishes side by side, your hips touching, you lifted your feet and kissed his cheek, whispering a thank you. His reaction was adorable, his neck slightly red, his eyes blinking at you in a silly way that made you smile back.
So you continued, becoming a little bolder every time he did something to please you. It seemed impossible now to go back to the time when you didn't touch him, and you could swear he liked it. There were times when you could almost feel him sigh when your kiss on his cheek went all the way to his jaw.
When he came back from patrol, bruised and bleeding, he wouldn't let you help him. He would never dirty your soft hands with his blood. But he enjoyed it when you sat next to him, stroking his hair and talking to him in that calm tone, trying to make him relax with more pleasant conversations. A routine was established.
Jason was a little quiet sometimes. At first you thought he was grumpy and moody, but you soon discovered that he was just someone with poor social skills, and you managed to establish a way to show that you cared about each other.
"Hum, I stopped by the pharmacy, but your order had already been picked up." You jumped, startled by Jason's sudden arrival. For such a big guy, he had an impressive ability to be silent. Damn Batman training.
"Jay, hi." You greeted, as you leaned on the kitchen counter, casually scrolling through your phone. "Dick got it for me, he was just passing by."
He fell silent, making you look up from your phone to look at him. Jason's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips forming a frown.
"Why?" You blinked slowly.
"Why what?"
"Why Dick got it for you. I was going to get it for you." He looked almost... annoyed, frustrated that he hadn't gotten the product for you.
You blinked slowly again, tilting your head.
"He...was closer. I didn't mean to bother you."
He let out a huff, looking annoyed, like when a dog sees his owner reading a newspaper another dog brought.
"Jay?" You called out to him, almost shivering when his blue orbs stared at you.
"I'm the one who does your things. Why is that idiot Dick getting involved?"
"I don't want you to feel like you're my employee, that's all."
He huffed again, looking indignant. Another problem with Jason Todd: he didn't say what he was feeling, it was like trying to win the lottery with blurry numbers. Then he approached you, his posture looking like he was preparing to interrogate a criminal, his hands resting on the counter.
"Did you kiss him?"It certainly wasn't what you expected to hear. Your mouth fell open, your eyes wide.
"What?"
It was the only intelligent thing your lips formed.Jason still had that indignant look on his face, his blue eyes half-closed. He was too close and you felt a little cornered, the kitchen seemed small, the air harder to breathe. You stared back at him.
"Why do you think I kissed Dick?" You repeated, still that confused expression. You would be offended if your brain was working perfectly.
"You kiss me when I do favors for you!" He murmurs.
Oh. That was it.
You let out a breath, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.
"Jason. Do you think I kiss the mailman every time he brings letters?"
"God, I hope not."
You both stay silent, your hands going to the hem of his shirt, unable to control yourself, squeezing it between your fingers, the weight of the unspoken words.
"Jay. You know...you don't have to do me favors to receive my affection, right?" You whispered, your eyes roaming all over his face, his beautiful features, his slightly crooked nose, his lips that looked so kissable.
"But I like it. I like taking care of you. Fuck, I want to take care of you always."
He himself seemed shocked by the intensity of the words, his eyes widening, his heart beating out of control, just like yours.
"Jay." You let out a breath, your hands rising to his face, caressing his cheekbones. You shivered when his hands held your hips, keeping you firmly against the counter. You didn't know what it would be like to kiss Jason, of course, you had already thought about it a lot, more than was healthy.
And when you finally pulled his face to you, pressing your lips, slightly chapped but still soft, against his. You dominated the kiss for a few seconds, being gentle as you held his face, but then something seemed to snap in Jason, he held you with impressive ease, pressing your hips against the counter and thrusting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your soft moan. His hands were all over your body, hungry, as if he couldn't lose you.
"Only I can take care of you," he growled against your lips, his breathing heavy.
"Yes. yes," you said, caught in the haze of Jason's kisses, your eyes almost closing again.
"Good," he whispered, before kissing you again, fiercely, his hands gripping the back of your neck.
You were fine with this deal of favors in exchange for kisses.
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Inspired by a post I saw about Jason's love languages headcanon. Jaybean is just a guy who doesn't know how to show love in a normal way!!! But we love him anyway. I hope you liked it! I'm very happy to start posting things here, slowly gaining courage.
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Why I Love Hanamusa
I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/13701e7a55f4fc6cccc8c809cfaf4c50/e08912a19e2afd3b-24/s540x810/1ec0e2ce515f6f4d0d431ae0222cd8a8fd7b9a08.jpg)
First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.
I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!
Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!
It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.
Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.
Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.
All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs.
Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.
Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.
There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.
I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bffe458858fd181ce9a0a0d9edc28d29/096a493aebbe9cd5-17/s540x810/aebb3a7cb9e6172b966c52e40c8e806a37dcfd40.jpg)
synopsis. you’ve been deliberately dodging atsumu miya. he wants to know why.
pairing. atsumu miya x fem!reader | wc. 2.0k (it wasn’t even supposed to be this long) | genres. (implied) university au, tbh i don’t even know what this dynamic is, he calls us princess, reader’s kinda bad emotionally, rain confessions
notes. for my birthday (not gojo’s eff him (/j)) i decided why not take one of my favorite tropes of all time and pair it w the loml. you’re so welcome. this is very dialogue heavy, barely proofread, and a hot mess, but i hope you enjoy regardless.
"(y/n)." the very familiar, sultry yet aggravating voice says the moment you step out of the cafe.
"oh my god!" you jump, clutching a hand over your heart that skipped a beat. it's immediately followed with a glare towards atsumu. "what the fuck, miya? you don't just come up to people like that."
"sorry." atsumu apologizes but his nose scrunches at the word. "nah, not really. didn't know how else to get to ya."
"so you had to find me at my job?" you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.
he shrugs. "yer really not leavin' me with any other choice."
"what are you on about?" you roll your eyes as you take a sharp left, carefully exhaling out. the street is nearly deserted now that the sun sunk past the horizon, leaving only the street lights and the moon to illuminate what would be a pitch black scene. puddles of water are scattered along the walkways, remnants of the downpour that occurred earlier in the day. you had clocked out later than usual, and the next flash of rain is predicted to fall within the next few minutes. you want to get back to your dorm before the worst of it happens.
"ya know what i'm talking about." atsumu huffs. "yer clearly avoiding me."
your shoulders tense when he brings it up, and you pray that atsumu doesn't catch it. "i'm not." you lie, your heart speeding up.
"yer a shit liar. i hope ya know that." atsumu shuts you down right then and there. the fact he's able to makes you wince. that's one of the many bones you have to pick with him. he can always see right through you, and it allows him to get under your skin easily since he knows exactly what to say if he wants to get a reaction out of you.
it's because of that reason that you've been avoiding him. you know yourself well enough that if you were to stand face to face with atsumu miya as you are now, he'd figure out the secret that you've been hiding for two weeks.
atsumu presses his lips together, sighing once he realizes that all he'll get from you from this point forward is silence, but he tries his luck anywayy. "can we talk?"
you let his question fizzle out in the air, continuing down the sidewalk as atsumu follows by your side. the first drops of drizzle fall onto your hand and cheek. atsumu feels them too.
"look, it's gonna rain soon. could ya at least let me take ya home? yer gonna get soaked." atsumu gently reaches out for your hand. the sudden contact and its spark of heat makes you jump. instinctively, you yank your hand away from him. your widened eyes snap towards him, and shame washes over you. maybe the street lights are playing tricks on you, but you swear there's a flicker of hurt in his gaze. you turn away from him because you can't bear the sight of it.
"are ya mad at me? did i do somethin' to upset ya?" atsumu continues.
no, you answer in your head. you can't trust yourself to say it out loud without betraying anything else. it's not that.
"(y/n), please. talk to me." atsumu pleads. you don't think you've ever heard such desperation in his voice before. you've never seen him so raw. it's almost enough to break you, but you refuse to let go the threads of your resolve. the rain is picking up; it's cold as it soaks the threads of your clothes.
"princess." atsumu throws in as a last ditch effort. you know it is because it's the one nickname that gets you riled up the most. it sparks a reaction that atsumu knows will get you talking, but unbeknownst to him it's not for the reason he expects. he wants you to snap with anger, but all your heart does is ache. all it does is melt you into putty in his hands.
"don't call me that." you finally come to a stop, turning so that you can face him, defeat in your gaze. atsumu's blond locks are beginning to lose volume; they stick to his forehead as droplets continue to fall. his hoodie is littered with small, dark stains, a physical consequence of the rain.
"oh now i got yer attention." atsumu scoffs, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek.
"miya." you warn, voice shaking. he ignores it.
"yer not being yerself, and ya haven't been for the last two weeks." he tells you as if you don't already recognize it yourself. "what's goin' on with ya?"
"nothing!" you deny. "i'm fine!"
atsumu rolls his eyes. "cut the crap, princess."
"seriously, stop calling me that!" you spit back at him.
you're shivering. you can't tell if it's because of your cold, wet clothes or your frustration that keeps reaching new levels. you can sense it; you can sense that your heart is about to claw itself out of chest and dump itself onto the feet of atsumu miya. your hand fists the fabric of your soaked shirt as if to keep it in.
"then tell me what's wrong!" the blond in front of you demands, running a hand through his hair. his voice projects over the brutal force of the rain.
you grimace. that's the one thing you can't do, especially since it involves him. you bite your tongue, hiding your face so that atsumu doesn't see the glassiness of your eyes. "miya... please drop it." you ask him pathetically.
"why?" he pries. this is the other issue with him. he's so damn stubborn to the point that it's infuriating. atsumu miya never backs down until he gets what he wants.
"because it's you!" the first wave of tears break free. they cascade down your cheeks, mixing in the stream of rain on your cheeks; all while your hand remains pointed at atsumu. "because i fell for you!"
atsumu shuts his mouth, going completely silent. you shake your head, laughing bitterly. "i bet you didn't expect that, did you? believe me, i didn't either. day in and day out all we've ever done was argue so i don't know how this happened. i don't know why i have these feelings for you."
wiping your face is a futile attempt yet you still do it anyway. a sob gets caught in your throat, and you choke on it. "i can't stop thinking about you. i can't be near you without my heart attempting to leap out of chest. and so yeah, i've been avoiding you miya, and it's because you've made me so damn weak."
your stare finds atsumu's. you can't get a read on him, but you don't have to second guess that he can see the pain swirling in your eyes. it's so humiliating that even now the first thing that crosses your mind is how good he looks even as you feel your heart being torn apart. his hair is completely stuck to his forehead. his blond ends that are soaked through and through drip their excess water onto his face. you want nothing more than to brush them out of his line of sight, but you can't. you fight that desire by balling up your fists.
"so please just leave me alone. stop trying to find me because i can't take this anymore." you beg through hiccups.
you wait for a response. you wait to see if atsumu will kick your heart aside. in an even better scenario, which is far from likely, he accepts it. you'll take either or.
but he does neither, and that's fine too. you leave atsumu by himself on the sidewalk, and your lack of presence pulls him out of his trance. he jogs to catch up to you, reaching from behind to clasp your hand in his.
"miya, let go-"
"no." he says firmly, a newfound fire burning behind his eyes, one that exceeds the one you feel on your hand. the sight makes you gulp. "ya can't just confess yer feelings for me and leave."
you chuckle weakly, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. "i think i can."
"no, ya can't. ya didn't even give me a chance to say anythin'." atsumu argues. he doesn't relinquish the hold he has on you.
"what more do you have to say? you don't feel the same, and that's fine-"
"could ya stop assuming things?! i never even said that." atsumu squeezes your hand ever so lightly in frustration. "and by the way, i'm not gonna leave ya alone. i'll follow ya to the edge of the earth if i have to."
you're still crying at this point, and atsumu's words are only making you more upset. "why?! why are you so fixated on me?! why can't you just-"
"because i'm in love with ya!"
in that moment, you swear the rain stops in its place, suspended in the air. surely, you must've been hearing things wrong. atsumu miya, the guy who has everyone dancing to the tune of his hand, is- no that doesn't even sound right. how could he possibly-
"god, i've been in love with ya for so long." atsumu laughs, like it's a relief to finally get it off his chest. "but ya nearly ripped my heart to shreds over these past two weeks."
atsumu squeezes your hand before letting it fall to your side. his own flex by his side as if to hold himself back. "(y/n), ya can insult me to yer heart's content if that's what makes ya happy, but don't dodge me like i'm the damn plague. i hate it. i really do."
atsumu picks up his tear-filled eyes; it makes your own fall even faster because you realize that this hurts him. you want to apologize, but the words are backed up in your throat. your cries steal away your ability to speak.
so you pull him in, yanking him by the drenched fabric of his hoodie and closing the distance between you two. your lips crash onto his, praying that this action is enough for him to understand. it takes a moment for atsumu to react, he's unmoving against you, and once he realizes what's happening, he relaxes. his hands fly to your neck, resting one on either side as he kisses you back.
it's carnivorous. he kisses you like he's been deprived of you. you feel how badly atsumu's been wanting this, how long he's been waiting for this day. you can barely keep up with his hunger. it's hot enough to overpower the chill that comes with the rain beating down on both of you. you'd kiss him forever if you could, but your lungs are begging for air.
when you pull away, atsumu's eyes reveal that he's in a daze, a happy one, like he just came back from soaring through the clouds. his damp hair presses onto your forehead as you both catch your breaths.
he pulls back. atsumu wears a soft grin as he admires you, even though you probably look like a wet dog. one of his hands find their way up to your cheek. you look at him expectantly. "(y/n), i want all of ya. i want yer stubborn ass attitude and yer insults. i want ya to be the only person who can bring me back down to earth. i want yer smiles and all yer laughs. i want to continue lovin' ya." he professes with complete certainty. his flowery words make you beam so brightly that it makes your cheeks hurt.
"i'll give you all of that and more." you swear. "but miya, i need you to kiss me again."
"oh? it seems like i got myself a needy princess." atsumu smirks, but he's already leaning in.
"shut up."
"gladly." atsumu agrees, pressing his lips to yours, smiles on both your faces.
you catch the flu the day after, and so does atsumu. but man, it is so, so worth it.
#anime#manga#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq fluff#hq angst#atsumu miya#atsumu x reader#atsumu fluff#atsumu angst#⭑ — fics ⭑.ᐟ♡#♡ — hq#♡ — tsumu
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As the adults struggle to find food and keep a roof over everyone’s heads, the children of northern Gaza also have their own struggles. Their mental health is in a horrible state.
I hesitated to talk about this. I don’t want people to think we have so many donations that we can afford to buy my sister toys. It’s not that we can afford it. It’s just that sometimes we have to skip a meal to buy something for her because the boredom is making her even more depressed. She has severe trauma, she has seen bombs dismember people, she has escaped multiple massacres with us. But now the other kids in the building keep breaking her toys while playing and we can't buy a new one immediately, because there are more urgent things. The cheapest thing in northern Gaza right now is makeup, because no one needs it, so I bought some. I apply it on myself and Soso to make her happy, but I don’t always have the energy or time to play with her. I’m exhausted, sick and malnourished, and I still have to do chores and spend hours at the market looking for the most affordable food, clothes, and hopefully medicine.
We have many expenses that we don’t talk about because people won’t see them as vital. Phone chargers (only used ones that die fast, because new ones are insanely expensive). A fee for the neighbors who have the internet router. Phone bills and data. Toys for the children. School books and private tutors for students.
You’re right, it wouldn’t be vital if the war had only lasted for a week. But it’s been more than a year. Our children’s mental health is destroyed, especially children as young as Soso who is only 4 years old and whose brain is developing in a genocide. Students can’t just stop studying for all this time. My other sister missed her entire last year of high school, but she wants to take university entrance exams. Dropping out of university because of the war has killed everything in me. I can’t let her experience the same kind of loss, so I pay for her books, for paper and printing, for private tutoring classes.
I had to buy three phone chargers in a month. The first one was $70. Days later, it was $100. Two days ago, a neighbor fried the second charger, and the new one was $200. I cried that day, because it wasn't even my fault. The prices of everything keep going up and I feel like I’m going insane. Even our landlord tried to increase the rent. It’s okay if I sacrifice meals. I’m used to hunger. But I have three younger siblings and I can’t watch them lose even more than they already have. I want them to study and play. I want them to eat and stay warm.
Please help me. When all of this is over, I’ll get my degree, find a good job, and I’ll never ask for anything again. But as long as the war keeps going, I need your help. I promise your donations don’t go to waste. Food and rent will always be the priority. Soso and my grandmother are the first beneficiaries. We always think carefully before buying anything. I hope we can reach the final goal soon, and that it will cover all expenses until the war ends, because I’m so tired of relying on strangers. I hate asking for money. I’m eternally grateful to anyone who helps, but the guilt won’t fade, because I wanted to be an independent girl and help my family myself. I'm exhausted and depressed.
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