#why the fuck couldn't that feeling go away along with my youth instead of getting stronger -_-

[freebooter4ever]

lupita making fan videos of her cat to glass animals 🥹🥹🥹 the strides this woman is making in sexy cat lady representation. gone are the days when getting a cat after a breakup over the age of 40 was seen as tragic and life ending

[besideprimroseshade]

ᴳᵒᵈ ⁱˢʰ ᵀʷˢᵗ ˣ ⁱᵐᵐᵒʳᵗᵃˡ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ CH: 3

"I want you, I want you, it's like my IQ's going down"

TW: decapitation mention, religious themes?? sorta??

    Current Alias

    Hanakoto Y/N

Finishing the now cold remains of your mashed potatoes and steak you get up.  Bumping into a student walking behind you, they offer their apologies first, a low voice that you'd expect from an grown adult not a teen.  "My apologies child" was all he said as he walked away.  Staring as he walked away you couldn't help but feel a twinge of familiarity radiating from him.

    You’re unsure why you returned to school, back in your mortal days it was pure hell for you.  It wasn’t difficult by any means, but certain subjects had a way of making you feel so hopelessly stupid that you considered just giving up on everything together.  Gradually, nothing seemed interesting anymore, slipping into eternal sleep seemed so inviting.  Much more so than the hours of work that you hated yourself for not being able to finish.  You hated yourself for not being able to finish a simple worksheet, it should’ve been easy, you started it but now you’d have to finish it.  But it wasn’t easy, it was a struggle to even look at the paper, your own disappointed voice in your head chastising you relentlessly.       Gradually, everything got to be too much.  And honestly, you stopped giving a fuck the day you challenged that god.  Praying to an all-knowing being that you weren’t even sure really existed anymore.  Your family was particularly religious, putting their faith in a god that you too believed wholeheartedly in your youth.  You knew that you shouldn’t pray for yourself, yet you still did.       Your faith was shaken roughly after a dear friend of yours was struck with a sickness.  You prayed day and night, begging your family’s almighty god for some sort of relief for them.  Anything to ease their pain, anything to ensure their survival.  Your poor friend who’s only sin was being too kind to stray animals.  You offered up your sweets as a penance to perhaps appeal to this god’s mercy.  One day, they actually appeared back at school, no longer bound to their wheelchair.  It was a miracle, perhaps all your prayers and sacrifices worked, perhaps the god was moved by the prayers of their devoted follower.     They were buried just a week later. 

That was the beginning of this god’s fall from grace in your mind.  Your teenage years were full of suppressed rage, each time you tried to express your feelings your parents shut you down and handed you tools to work in the fields. That did help, but you ended up ruining the fields in your anger, and your parents decided it best for them to have you take walks instead.  Walks were nice, they offered some sort of solace for your bottled emotions.  Occasionally, along the shores, you’d find some merperson that had swam too far from their home.  Sometimes they’d tempt you down to the watery depths with their songs, and other times they were simply curious about humans.  Both were better than being home, in your mind.      The diaries that belonged to you as a child were thrown out, further cementing your disbelief in this god that you had so fondly worshipped.  You hated each page, you hated your younger self for being so fucking naive, you hated that god.  You found a particularly bright colored diary that reappeared in your shelves.  It was your favorite, a special book handed down from your mother, it bore a smooth dull red cover, still had some of her notes written down in her neat handwriting.  You almost laughed at yourself when you read it again, swearing was so forbidden in your household, however did little you write ‘shut up’ without a care in the world.       Into the trash it went, for a second time, it was probably possessed or something.  There went another piece of your past that you so fervently hated.  The horrible grammar, the shitty drawings, that ‘unshakable’ belief, you didn’t realize it was possible to hate something so much.  You bought more journals as the centuries passed, and decided to not throw out anymore, lest that force that brought your red one back from the trash struck again.      Then the worst drought in a centuries time struck your village with a vengeance.  Usually, you’d read in history books that you stole from your brother, that your village would sacrifice a young maiden or child.  To appease the gods and beg them for rain.  The willing sacrifice would be led to a quiet place in the cliffs, then they would pray that their life would help pave the way for the new lives that the rain would nourish.  Then came the gruesome part, they were usually drugged, their head chopped off and placed on a stone for the gods.  The body was buried on the mountain, and then they would pray again.       You do wonder why after your challenge your village was hit with rain enough to replenish the river that had long run dry.  Perhaps the gods looked with favor upon your foolish endeavor.  Perhaps they decided to further prove your demise.    You were currently preoccupied with completing the work of a student whom you shared classes with that didn’t seem particularly interested in completing today’s classwork.  You sent them a short summary of how you completed the work and they paid you decently.  You felt like those tutors that you’d see in the windows of the rich families of your town.  Helping the kids learn their school and life skills.  All things their parents were too busy to teach them.       You recognized the student in front of you, that deep-voiced boy from lunch.  Purposely bumping into him you drop one of your books, “Oh no my books!” You mutter and bend down to pick it up, noticing that he does the same.  You meet his eyes, round and scarlet.  They seemed so familiar… Wait… That fae… What the hell was he doing here?

    “Have we met before?  Once upon a dream perhaps?” He breaks the silence with a cheerful grin.  Glaring into his eyes, you attempt to fish out any information about him.  "Who the hell are you?" you stare incredulously.  He senses your suspicion "Ah, I haven't introduced myself havent I?  I'm Lilia Vanrouge, Vice Housewarden of Diasomnia.  Pleasure to meet you!" he extends his gloved hand out.  And you take it cautiously, shaking it slowly.  Then you pull your hand away.

    "You" the word slips from your lips before you register it.

    "Ah, so we have met before" he mutters softly, taking note of your glare.

    You stand up slowly "Lilia..." you say it as you rise, something about his name strikes a familiar chord in your memory.  "your name doesn't seem familiar but you do" you add cautiously.  What if he takes you for some rando stalker or something of the sort? he pauses and continues "You seem familiar to me as well..." he takes a long silent pause "Ell... is that you?".  You throw a hand over his mouth "It's not Ell anymore, it's Hanakoto, don't forget that... and wait, how do you know my name?" you hiss.  "Ah, Hanakoto, do you mind if we continue this er… reunion back at Diasomnia?  Classes should be starting again soon, and I’d hate for you to be tardy cause of little ‘ol me”.  Lilia gives you one last smile before vanishing into thin air, your schoolbook in hand.     Damn him, wait, why would he need your schoolbook?  Oh, for a bribe, so that you couldn’t refuse his offer… He was more conniving than you gave him credit for… damn bastard.       You finished your school day without much fanfare, as usual.  You stood in the Mirror Room, approaching the mirror with the emblem of Diasomnia above it.  Lilia, such a floral name for hardened warrior.  Well, at least you knew it now.  That explained his past distaste for the lilies that you occasionally grew to sell.        Diasomnia was the equivalent of a gothic castle if you’ve ever seen one.  If you were a weaker soul perhaps, maybe the very sight if it would have you shaking in fear.  Though you thought it to be too much.  In any case, this was your destination.  You walked the long and rather thin path that led to the dorm's great black doors.  Pushing them open with a heave you were greeted by the sight of an annoying freshman who you recognized from the Orientation, Sebek Zigvolt if you recalled correctly.  A loud boy, with a lean build, bright green gelled back hair and golden eyes with slit pupils.  He was missing the common features of a Zigvolt though, where were his scales?  He must be a half blood then, you decided silently as he greeted you with a shout.  You were expecting him to spout off something about humans in disdain. But surprisingly he welcomed you, "Welcome to Diasomnia!" you muster a reply "Hello, Zigvolt...".   

    You follow him into the dorm's lounge, "I do not know what Master Lilia sees in a human like you.  But if he specifically invites you to Diasomnia, I will do my best to treat you like a guest!".  He shouts, much to your dismay.  Sure, go ahead and announce me being here to everyone you sigh inwardly.  Taking a seat on the plush black couches of the dorm's lounge, you two wait for Lilia to make his appearance.  Now that you thought about it, it had been a while since you had last seen a member of the Zigvolt clan, last member you had seen was Baur.  He was a soldier under Lilia back then or something, you never really cared to learn about him.  This boy wasn't a full fae, so perhaps he was a grandson or great-grandson, the hatred the fae held towards the humans made the thought seem impossible in your mind.  Perhaps it had been healed by centuries after?  In any case you were here to see Lilia, not ponder about the racial tensions between humans and fae. 

    Lilia himself decides to appear right next to you, making his presence known with a bright 'Well hello there!'.  Sebek stiffens at the sight of his Vice Housewarden.  "Master Lilia!  Thank you for gracing us with your presence!" you give him a small hesitant wave and place your hands onto your lap.  "Whats with the sullen face??  Don't you miss me El-er Hanakoto?" he corrects himself mid-sentence after remembering the underclassman's presence.  "Eh, not really" you admit honestly, "How dare you be so curt when Master Lilia is speaking to you human!" Sebek cried.  "He's your master not mine" you lean back against the couch, "Tis quite alright Sebek, Hanakoto and I are acquainted" Lilia smiles.  He processes this new information and mutters an apology.  The elder fae waves a hand in a shooing motion, "No need to apologize, I'm sure that Hanakoto has taken no offense" you nod in agreement, "I really don't give a fuck". 

   “Well, now that you’re here, why don’t we discuss some things in private?  I’ve been meaning to talk to you” Lilia smiles.  You throw him an incredulous stare, “You are aware how that sounds right?” He returns with an innocent look “Nope!” and grabs your hand, teleporting the two of you to his room.

    You followed Lilia into his room, "What the fuck??" you mutter as your eyes trail around, observing clothes and objects that were hurriedly shoved into drawer shelves.  "Ah, well, I didn't have much time to clean up" he chuckles "Silly me".  Lilia's room is a random ass assortment of items you presumed he collected from after you met.  A guitar on the bed, a spare jacket and shirt tossed over the wardrobe's open door.  "How did you go from only owning the clothes on your back to some grandpa with a hoarding issue?" you groan in disbelief.  "That, Hanakoto, is a story for another day".  "How has time been treating you?" he sighs with an air that you can't decide if it's playfulness or genuine curiosity.  "Same as always" you admit.  Lilia snaps his fingers and summons a rather elegant teapot and two teacups. 

    You hesitantly take the cup of tea that was oh so generously offered to you.  The distinct aroma of oranges and cardamom filled your senses as you brought the cup to your lips.  "Have you a family yet?" he asks the question carefully to which you shake your head, "Nah, the only family I had are dead and gone".  Your eyes look up from the cup, "You?" he sighs wistfully, "I do, I have a son...".  He says the word 'son' with such love you were almost jealous of this random child.  "Gods, I feel ancient" you tease.  "You're much older than me after all" he grins, before his lips fall into a frown "I missed you, Ell, I thought that you left me...".  Lilia's words run a knife through you, your grip falters and bit of steaming tea falls on you, Fuck you whisper, fuck fuck fuck fuck... you had forgotten that you were forced to leave your home by the forest, lest you be killed by those Silver Owls or the fae.  You never told Lilia, just packed up and left in a hurry, taking your house with you. 

    'I missed you Ell' the words stung with a force you weren't expecting.  Truth be told, you wanted him to forget about you, everyone forgot about you in the end so what was another person to add to that list?

   But no, Lilia had aged almost 400 years and still remembered you.    He had a family.  He looked older, he was no longer the petty creature with an attitude.  He was a father, a father beloved for his wisdom.  Yet he still remembered you.     You were exactly the same, physically and mentally.  You would never change.  You would outlive him, outlive his family, outlive his grandchildren and great grandchildren.  There was something that you felt, a feeling that choked you, a feeling that you'd heard of people experiencing when their loved ones passed.  But, your so called 'loved ones' had passed oh so many years ago, yet that feeling never came to you.  It was only now, that you met with Lilia again, that you understood the feeling.  That haunting feeling of grief and loss.  That horrible feelings that was like a hand closing on your throat.  Choking the life out of you.  You felt unworthy of being remembered by him, why did he remember you out of all people?  When he could've easily forgotten about you like so many others had.  Why you?

    At least I completed something that my brother said I couldn't, he said that I would die unremarkable and forgotten.  You're wrong for once fuckface. 

   You forced yourself out of your thoughts and choked out a little, "I missed you too" before finishing your now lukewarm tea.  You shook those despairing feelings away as someone knocked softly on the door. 

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Author's Thoughts

Lilia Vanrouge - 'He actually remembered me...'

Sebek Zigvolt - 'Loud and annoying, but whatever.'

Silver - 'One lucky kid.'

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An: thank u all my lovely readers for still sticking around <333 and to all the new ones that have joined this hell lmaooo. plz forgive any errors <333

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

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

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

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

commissions: open

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but he didn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'm sor—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[aroyblog]

Is that me or the fear talking?

There's no one but myself here to be honest with.

So simple is life until we unravel its layers, like that of an onion, to see the eye watering stench underneath.

This is. Yes. I've spent my whole life trying to find who to blame. Part of my youth was spent blaming my parents, for their lack of direction and overall cluelessness when it came to the building blocks of success. Or really even just a stool of direction anywhere would've been nice. Instead, I got countless shrugs and the end all answer of "that's life. Life is unfair." Unfortunately, you can only blame the ones that raised you for so long before you must take on responsibly. Even though the tools you require to take responsibility effectively remain unlearned. Acceptance did not allow subsidence. After years of holding on to hate and frustration, I began a new phase of blame. It directed its ugly head onto myself. Being angry at yourself, I felt, was easier. You could feel as mad as you wanted and allow the intensity of the feelings to grow until they reached their boiling point. At which point I'd allow red bubbles to flow over the pan of skin that met with my blade. It felt good. I felt release. Once the emotions reappeared I could easily supply relief through this process. And it made sense to me. Yet, the disapproval and horror i got from acting upon those festering emotions caused a dirty smudge of shame. Which developed into its own kind of nervousness. So, I stopped. I held on to a small hopeful phrase "just one more day." it was a dark comforting reassurance that I had control. If I couldn't change anything around me or myself, at least I could hold onto a quick end. Whether that end involved my life or my current situation was ever changing.

I'm just so angry. Because it's NOT ME. It's this fucking world. But oh no, we can't go there because those with "sense" claim the system is effective, regardless of how flawed. Meanwhile I'm over here with a "mental disorder" that needs treatment. I GOT THIS WAY SOMEHOW. I FEEL THIS FOR SOME REASON. To blame it on some chemical imbalance is absolute ludicrous. But whatever. I'm crazy. That's the easy way out. It's not "maybe the same system doesn't work for everyone". It's cute how we agree on how special and unique each human being is, yet we put my mental state in a lower scale so I cannot speak out. If you lose your sanity anywhere along the way you are automatically discredited for everything. Even though this whole world is what caused the lapse in my sanity to begin with. it doesn't make fucking sense, so how can I?

It's as if all the void time I've allowed these thoughts to bounce off one another has caused a disconnect. I don't understand others and how they remain so content. I am angry and it doesn't go away. And I cannot change. The options placed before me do not offer any way out. They ask for me to change and mold for society, or to let go of the anger. But I simply can't. Why would I get over it? Another something will surely come up and only disappoint me further. I'm going to stay here. In this angry place. I just cannot let it go.