#because i’m not insecure and bitter about the love they hold for each other in canon

[whinlatter]

something tells me you don't really like tonks, just a hunch xD

For the relationship ask if you're still doing it: harry and remus, molly and remus, teddy and adromeda. I would love to see what do you think <3

noooo i love tonks! i had a ball writing her and think that @evesaintyves’ rendering of her is one of fandom’s greatest gifts 😭 i just find it very funny that harry thinks she should low key get a grip. and as a clumsy young woman who should myself get a grip, i say: get off her case, hjp.

ok the remus + tonks/black extended family universe... hyped for this one. delicious choices, thank you anon. (i have a few more in the inbox i'm going to take a stab at but am trying to avoid spoilery ones or ones where i risk boring you all again by repeating old talking points, so if i don't get to one pls forgive me...)

right — to business. we begin with everybody looking at remus lupin waiting for him to put his crippling self loathing aside to write (1) singular letter to his dead friend's son:

i jest (to an extent). but i do think the entirety of harry and remus' dynamic is best encapsulated in one singular scene in PoA:

“When they get near me — ” Harry stared at Lupin’s desk, his throat tight. “I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum.” Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though to grip Harry’s shoulder, but thought better of it.

i know there's a very understandable move in AUs to imagine what would have happened if remus had raised harry - or, more often, if remus had been 'allowed' to raise harry by dumbledore. but looking past the whole plot-requiring-harry-to-be-at-the-dursleys thing, the truth is, canon remus lupin would never have put himself forward to raise harry, because of his own (not unfounded!) concerns about the precarity of his existence and the dangerousness of his condition. remus' sense of self - more specifically his fear of himself, and his very low self worth - consistently lead him to hold harry at arm's length from the moment he's introduced in the series until its bitter end. i don't think remus at all approves of the way harry is treated at the dursleys. but i can very much imagine that remus thinks it would still be better than the life he could have given harry if he ever had been called upon to serve as his primary caregiver. one of the most interesting implicit dynamics in the series is that harry notices this and does, to some extent, resent it (obviously the fact that he only ever calls him 'lupin' in his narration, though uses remus to his face, and also: 'Harry had received no mail since the start of term; his only regular correspondent was now dead and although he had hoped that Lupin might write occasionally, he had so far been disappointed.') while the harry & remus fight in DH is about harry's view of what remus ought to do re tonks and the baby, it’s also harry coming as close as saying to remus: you're letting your own child down like you let me down. ('I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually... He had it coming to him,” said Harry. Broken images were racing each other through his mind: Sirius falling through the veil; Dumbledore suspended, broken, in midair; a flash of green light and his mother’s voice, begging for mercy… ‘Parents,’ said Harry, 'shouldn’t leave their kids unless—unless they’ve got to.')

molly and remus: i think this is a very, very underrated relationship! i know there’s a lot of molly-bashing around these days, especially if you’re a marauders and/or sirius and/or wolfstar stan. but i think it is very very overlooked that the person who looks after adult remus the most from 1995 onwards, and who shows him some of the deepest trust and roots for his happiness, is molly. for a man who has plainly known a huge amount of financial/food/housing insecurity, and who is so villainised in wider wizarding society, it is no small gesture for molly to not only provide for remus materially but also to trust him in a house with all of her children and encourage him in a romantic relationship he struggles to feel entitled to and worthy of. (i love sirius, but he is in no fit state to ‘look after’ remus in the last year of his life, and fandom’s continued unwillingness to recognise the importance of domestic/caregiving labour as a vital contribution to the resistance will never not be problematic af). remus clearly values and admires molly in return - the only time he actually ever entertains a parent/guardianship role is when molly is weeping over her boggart, crying onto remus’ shoulder (‘what must you think of me?’) and he assures her that if anything were to happen to her and arthur, he would be a part of the team making sure her children are taken date of (‘what do you think we’d do, let them starve?’) remus’ relationship with molly is often the more mild-mannered translator of her viewpoint to others (especially others with hot tempers), and mediator trying to find middle ground between molly’s protective instincts and the battle/ready instincts of others. (more grist to my sirius & ginny parallels mill — in DH, when a fuming ginny is desperately trying to sneak off to fight in the battle, it’s remus who appeals to molly and ginny to find the compromise of ginny staying in the room of requirement to know what’s going on but not actively fight, a mirror image of his role mediating the dispute between sirius and molly over harry’s right to know what’s going on at grimmauld in ootp…) molly accepts this compromise, a sign that she trusts remus implicitly (she never frets that a werewolf is living among her children in ootp onwards, and invites him to christmas readily even after months undercover with the pack) and also feels able to call him out (‘i’ve always said you’re taking a ridiculous line on this, remus’.) this is too long but basically — justice for molly and remus, unlikely buds!

teddy and andromeda: i weirdly think a lot about teddy lupin these days. i tend to imagine teddy as a very mild-mannered, affable, calm child, like who remus might have been had he not been bitten, with tonks' heart and sociability but also with something of remus' more philosophical disposition. i think he'd slip very naturally into a big brother role because, in part, he does see himself as having a responsibility to take care of people, and i think this would shine through in his relationship with andromeda. we know teddy was raised by his gran, and i imagine she feels enormously protective of him, perhaps bordering on strict in her desire to keep him safe from the harm that came to all the rest of her family. but i like to imagine teddy didn't act out against this too much, in part because he understands where it comes from and in turn feels very protective of andromeda. growing up in the aftermath of the war would make teddy as a child particularly aware of the grief and pain and the silences among the adults around him, and i think teddy would take any compensatory protective strictness on andromeda's part with good grace, and humour her for it. i like to think teenage/young adult teddy serves as the translator for any of his gran's more prickly edges, and that they have a very close relationship that both of them really treasure.

[autumn0689]

You can have your own opinion on the Trolls movies (whether you love it or hate it) but something that I adore about them is how they handle Branch’s trauma and how it affects his relationships with others.

Sure, he is in a WAY better mental state now, but he still struggles. It’s mostly shown in the TV shows because shows have more time to develop things, but also in the movies he is still struggling.

In the first holiday special, he struggles with learning how to smile (and he truly doesn’t have a good smile until he is being genuine) and is shown to follow Poppy’s lead and when he tries to give his opinion and she says something else he just gives into her. I love how they also address his lack of social cues, especially when instead of telling Poppy that she ignored Bridget’s feelings, he treated Poppy how she treated Bridget.

Now, In the second movie, he doesn’t trust others easily and is always on the defense. He has a backup plan for everything and is shown to struggle with admitting his emotions (involving his crush on Poppy and mostly following her around and being there for her even if he doesn’t agree and it results in him and her having a fight) he sings and dances and all but he is still learning how to adjust to being a happy Troll again.

In the second Holiday special when he gets Poppy he freaks out because he doesn’t want to disappoint her (abandonment issues, anyone?) and, again, his lack of social cues, ESPECIALLY when he goes to measure Poppy’s hair and how seeing Poppy’s gift for him got him spiraling, which resulted in him thinking that he had to go BIGGER for Poppy, and when it ended up backfiring and making a scrapbook, he thought it was ‘lame’, which caused Poppy to calm him down, and while he was panicking about the clouds snowing, Poppy decided that they should both go on a balloon ride with no multitasking, making him happy. I love how Poppy knows how to calm him down and that while he’s struggling, she’s always there to help him.

Now onto the third movie *cracks knuckles* here we go!

Now, let’s get to the ‘Abandonment Issues’ Elephant In The Room. His bitterness about his brothers leaving him is something that he makes obvious, but mostly puts it away until his brothers say that they will be going their separate ways. Throughout the movie he slowly allows himself to enjoy being with them, but when that revelation comes up, everything comes flooding back, his resentment and anger and bitterness that he has had for the past twenty years. He then leaves them, telling them that he doesn’t need them, and when Poppy follows him, he lets his insecurities get the best of him, telling Poppy that she will leave him eventually, that everyone else does.

Poppy, being the best girlfriend that she is, reassures him that they have been by each others sides and that she isn’t going anywhere. He apologizes, but she doesn’t hold it against him. I love how much Poppy has changed, especially when in the second movie she made his doubts about Hickory about herself, and seeing how hurt he is, she comforts him and doesn’t excuse his brothers actions, agreeing to help him save Floyd.

I love how at the end of the movie, when he is surrounded by everyone that he loves, he is at his most happy, in my opinion. Now, I can imagine him still struggling, but he’s in a much better place, and while I’m positive he will still struggle in the future movies (after all, twenty years of not having any help for his trauma is something that won’t go away anytime soon) he has his brothers and his girlfriend.

I love how they still address his issues, they address the fact that not everything will get resolved immediately, and that while in the first movie he gains his True Colors™️ again, his colors fluctuate between being more gray to being more blue. For a movie for kids, I love how they ACTUALLY show Branch healing! Showing him having doubts, and how the movies show that while he has those to help him, it also shows how strong he is by continuously improving himself.

Of course, there’s still some issues (mostly in the TV Shows) in which they could delve more into it, but compared to other children’s media, the fact that they are showing Branch being happy while also showing that he is still recovering is something that I love about the Trolls franchise.

TL;DR I’m so glad that movies and shows for kids are discussing more serious topics, and I love how the Trolls franchise show the effects of trauma and that while Branch is still struggling, they show that with people to help you, you can end up in a better place. Of course he isn’t going to be immediately okay, but he’s slowly getting there, and that’s such a beautiful thing to see, especially in a movie like Trolls, where Trolls fart glitter and hug every hour and with the Pop Trolls being so happy almost all the time! I love how much care they put into characterizing Branch!

[bonesandthebees]

So let’s start with Niki shall we? First of all, banter? [“No, not grey yet. But your hairline might be getting worse,” Niki teased.] on point. 10/10 childhood friends’ behaviour. Shared habits? [Wilbur watched as she began to twist the many thin rings spread across her own fingers. Wilbur wasn’t sure which one of them picked up the nervous habit first, but it was one they had shared since they were children.] There and definitely not going to end up as a tell to give away that one of them is lying.

Caring for each other’s appearance and knowing each other’s deepest secrets? Yes, both with Niki fixing Wilbur’s pendant for his and Wilbur knowing Niki was saving that dress for when she would be announced as heir. Undying loyalty? Wilbur claims so but he’s also keeping other doors open and lying to Niki’s face so I can’t wait for that to fall apart or come back to bit him.

Other important notes for the first bit [Niki’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I don’t know for sure, but I figured if anyone would know it’d be you.”] This tells you everything about Wilbur’s position. He has more info that the average person, provide by his father, and it’s very clear everyone knows it and tries to get access to it, Niki doesn’t really do it here, but she does right before dinner and Quackity also does it.

Similarly to Phil not knowing things, Wilbur not knowing things is worrisome too, because either 1. He’s not being told by his father, which should have a reason but what if it doesn’t? Or 2. He’s lying to you about what he does or does not know.

[Another possibility occurred to Wilbur. Maybe Phil didn’t know about the announcement.] <- Wilbur gets to the right conclusion, but dismisses it immediately because 1. It makes no sense for Sam not to tell his father. And 2. He looks up to his father, so of course he would know. (It’s also because he should know about these kinds of things and Sam not telling him is very worrying, because that could mean that either 1. Sam is about to do something stupid (he is) or 2. Phil’s position is in danger.

[So that left only two possibilities: Niki’s ladies were wrong, or Phil had a reason for not telling Wilbur about the announcement.] cue immediate insecurity about why his father would not tell him followed by assurance that his father would have a good reason and it’s definitely not because he doesn’t trust him (have I mentioned this boy has daddy issues yet?)

[“Well, maybe not everyone,” Wilbur amended. “But there’s a wide gap between the support you hold versus the support Quackity holds in the public eye.”] 1. Interesting, is this true or just Wilbur’s subjective point of view? Guess we’ll never know. But Phil is pushing for her so maybe she is the most favoured since she’s the default heir + grew up at the palace. 2. I’m interested to see how Tommy’s arrival may or may not change this.

Lastly, [“And you’ll be by my side, right?” / “Of course.” / “Of course,” she repeated]. I’m sure this won’t taste like ash in my mouth if I every reread this fic after it’s done. I’m sure this memory won’t be bitter in like 10 chapters. Not at all. Surely it can’t already have plotrelevant impact by the end of the chapter (I’ll get to that).

(1/?)

-🌲

I loved writing the banter at the start between niki and wilbur so much. childhood best friends is one of my favorite dynamics to write and it fits rainduo SO well. the shared habits thing as well was something I had a lot of fun including. it's definitely not going to come up later yup no siree. I just really wanted to show how comfortable they are with each other, hence niki fixing wilbur's pendant and wilbur recognizing the dress she wears as one she's been saving. they know each other inside and out, and it seems only natural that undying loyalty follows... right?

oh yeah everyone in the palace knows that wilbur has access to information. his father is the consil, so it only makes sense. wilbur has always been privy to things a bit before they happen, like if there's going to be a ball soon or if there's going to be an important person coming to visit. but also he doesn't always have access to that info, because it's usually up to phil to decide whether or not to give it to him. so it's not that unusual for wilbur not to know something like that, but it's definitely something others take note of.

yuppp even though wilbur got to the right conclusion almost immediately, he dismisses it because he can't fathom the idea of sam not telling his father something. because his father is the consil. his father knows everything. there's no way he wouldn't know something like this. it's that childish naivety rearing its head. so of course instead he concludes it's something about him specifically, and he tries not to let it get to him but it does because he so desperately craves phil's approval

while wilbur saying that is definitely at least somewhat subjective, it has solid grounding. niki is seen as the more expected choice in the country because she's spent nearly her entire life at the palace. while the 'commoners' are aware of quackity as an option, no one really takes that seriously and think it's definitely going to be niki. outside the palace, most people just assume sam's waiting until she's a bit older to announce her

oh yeah that line definitely won't age badly. not at all. :)

[rylredrants]

A Gift from the Grave

My first husband gave me exactly two gifts… actual gifts that I cherish, not the gifts of the added insecurities from the trauma inflicted (on each other) during our marriage. Those gifts are things I’m still trying to untangle within myself decades later that I may never fully be rid of.

But the real gifts- my daughter is the most obvious one. She is a genuinely amazing human in every sense. We both gave her far too many gifts because of who we were as parents, but she has continued to shine and show others what it means to be a force of nature in the best possible way.

To say I’m proud of her is an understatement.

The other gift arrived after his death by suicide last summer. It seemed small, but the more I hold it in my heart and really see it for what it is, the more I realize how pivotal it is for who I am and how I want to move forward in the world.

When he died, hadn’t been in contact in decades, and our relationship was toxic and bitter at best and abusive at worst. We were both young and had a lot of our own baggage in hand when we met, and that made it impossible for either of us to treat the other with the kind of love and compassion we both deserved and needed.

I see all of that now. But in talking about him, I only remembered the pain. I only remembered the bad times and the image of the man who broke parts of my soul in ways I may never fully heal.

He remembered me as a writer who looked like Gillian Anderson. That’s what he told the people in his life when he ended it. I was a writer. What an amazing gift!

I AM a writer.

That’s one of those childhood dreams that slowly faded as I moved from pencil to pen, notebook to word doc, and MySpace to Tumblr to not sharing much at all.

So, how do I get it back? Do I find another platform? Focus on marketing and branding so people will pay to read my ramblings? Do I risk using my real name on the door to the room where I go to splatter my guts on the wall?

I feel like I’ve been screaming into the void and am growing weary of the sound of my own pain echoing back. I’m also afraid of being so open and honest that people will think less of me or that in the process of healing my own trauma, I’m ripping open the wounds of others.

I don’t want to shut out the world anymore, but I don’t want to go out there and bleed all over others already wrapped in their own bandages.

[clandestine-sadboy]

My final letter to you

my dearest friend, my last lover, my person,

….Je ne te mérite pas….

I remember you in the little ways, and it brings me joy. To be close with you again even though it is only in spirit. I leave myself to process my thoughts, feelings… my emotions about you. My love for you will never ever subside. For my own well being I needed to accept all that has happened. I am ashamed of the ways I’ve changed you as a person. I feel everything under the sun, my biggest fear is never ever seeing you again, never laughing with you again; I really meant it when I said I loved you. Emotions are so so powerful, sure… go figure. Right? It’s just one of those things you knew in the back of your mind but never truly understood the gravity of it. Truth is, i have done so much shitty shit in my lifetime- that to a certain extent I actually learned how to control my emotions and thoughts. Despite reality. I learned how to give my all into someone, and I learned how to not annoy others with my hyper activity, I learned how to love less, I learned how to emotionally disconnect and reconnect time and time again. I learned how to distract myself from the bad thoughts, even when it all came rushing back- sooner or later I would regain control and focus on something else. In many ways I don’t think you deserved me and the way I loved you sometimes… And I don’t think I deserved you- at all. Any part of you. I’m well aware we both have feelings that we never thought we’d ever feel, and it’s because of the other. The hardest reality I’ve come to realize is; we slowly took the best parts in each other and completely exhausted them to the point of death and now we’re not the same people we used to be. I don’t know who you are and you don’t know me either. Life is so fucking unfair and it’s so hard to even understand. Sometimes I miss you and sometimes that’s all I fucking feel. Is just… a longing crave for you. The worst pain follows every single time; I miss someone who doesn’t exist anymore, maybe someone who never existed in the first place… because of me. I hurt you time and time again because I couldn’t process my emotions, I was so insecure I filled in the empty spaces, and when you didn’t live up to the version of you I made up in my head I punished you for it. All of this realized, too late. I try so hard not to think about what you’re thinking or what you’re doing, or why you treated me certain ways… all this thinking of you leaves me with nothing but quartions, building up into hurt, anger, confusion. I have been forced to grow and heal the deepest parts of myself, parts of me I never knew existed. I just wanna talk to you, but I can’t even bring myself to try. I still move through my life and want to tell you things. Which is one of the hardest things to come from all this, I never thought I’d not be able to tell you something. So incase you were wondering, yes I still love you. No I don’t want to be with you. Yes I’m still hurting. No I don’t move through life blind from my shortcomings in our relationship. Yes I still crave you. No I haven’t been cooped up in my room dwelling on what used to be. Yes I’ve slept with other people since we broke up. No I don’t want another relationship. Yes I am lonely and still feel like you are the only one for me. No I haven’t been talking shit about you. Yes I’ve been honest about what transpired between us. No I havent been doing so well. Yes I have been actively trying to listen to what you said to me and be better. No I don’t think everything is all my fault. Yes I am upset with you and get bitter sometimes still. No I dont feel ready to talk to you. Yes I see the petty ways you’ve tried to get to me. No I don’t hold it against you. Yes I am actually happy for you and hope the best in your life. No I don’t think I understand everything. Yes I give you the benefit of my doubt. No I don’t think I am innocent. Yes i want to reconnect in some sort of way with you one day when we’re both ready. No I don’t hate you. Yes it hurts, all of it… it hurts so bad. I’ve been happier though. And I know you have been too.

You still inspire me to be a better person. Thank you. For existing and being my rock. You’ve made such an impact in my life that even when you’re not around you help me. So no, there’s nothing I regret. Other than the mistakes that I have made that led me into this position I am in today. I’m sorry, I hope one day for your forgiveness. I hope one day we both live happy, stable, healthy lives. I hope our babies are doing well and thank you for blessing me with all the love and comfort over the years. I’ll shamelessly miss, love and care for you for the rest of my life. I’ll always be there for you if you we’re to ever need me. If you were to ever call me, I’d always pick up. If you were to ask me for a favour I’d always do my best to help aid you. I’ll always remember and absolutely treasure the laughs and memories with you. And I’ll always think of you on December 4th, when I see the number 8, when I go to the casino, when I get a new outfit, when someone says my person, when all those movies and tv shows and songs play, when I dye my hair blonde, when I think of BC, whenever I see a dog, whenever I’m one a drive, whenever I sing or take a shower… yanno, I think you get the point. But last but not least and I’ll always… ALWAYS feel joy when I hear/see your name.

But I don’t deserve you, I never have. I’m sorry I was unable to be who you needed me to be, who I promised I’d be for you. I love you, I loved you and I will always feel love for you.

Sincerely, with love and passion,

T.K

[blueberrybone]

Looking back you were so impersonal, or maybe I was and you didn’t care. You told me about your problems and I couldn’t help. God I couldn’t even tell you about why mum and dad left each other. Maybe it was a precursor, because it should of told me how distant you were, even when your hands were on my skin and your lips were on mine. I know I should delete your photos and playlist but I don’t know if I can be bothered, because you still make me bitter, scared and thank god I’m not in love with you. But god damn it I could have been.  Why couldn’t you just ask, I would have looked away from your insecurities, letting them sit in a space that wasn’t the one in-between us. Because god-fucking-damnit I thought I was in love with you. And I laugh now at how you wouldn’t take your shirt off but wanted mine gone. And at how your healthy-ness alway made me feel guilty. Someday’s though I do wonder should I have made more of an effort to come to you, instead as I felt needy, waited for you to text me first, shouldn’t I have introduced you to my friends so quick, talked about my ex’s less. Should I have cared less? Would that in the end make this whole thing easier? Because that’s it. Everything would have been easier if I felt so much less everything. So much less love, anxiety, happiness and excitement that could have all scared you off from the warmth of my love and happiness streaked with the debilitating cold that anxiety swept me with, that thing I didn’t even tell you about because in my rose coloured lenses I couldn’t even remembered how it felt, until I had to answer because even after all this time I still held residue of that one girlfriend. Much like I will hold the residue of you for the rest of my life, wether its good or bad, or if I want it or not. 

[reflectionsyouwillneversee]

Part1

I wish the pictures on the wall talk and bring back a moment in time. 10,000 words flood my mind, but nothing comes out anymore. Yesterday is so far away. I have given all I could do and said all I could say to keep it all the way like it was, I knew this house was never going to be my home. It’s your family legacy. And I have overstayed my welcome. All I ever wanted was a home with you in it. Hell, a cardboard box could suffice as long as you were there with me, but now it only seems as if you were trying to takeoff a Band-Aid slowly so it does not sting so much. You are so caught up in saying over and over you don’t know what to do And that you don’t want to end up like John and Chan so bitter and resent me, resent us, that all you see is that you can’t move past the negativity. You say you don’t know what to do. All I asked is for you to do was try. I guess being here in the body is trying for you, but you’re so cold, so distant, no emotion comes from you, except for a giant frown upon your face. part of trying is giving a gentle embrace, a simple touch. When I reminded you in the morning that I still love you, it was not to burden you, it’s just so you would not forget. A house is not a home when there is no one there, and it seems as if only your vessel is here, you don’t reach for me, I have no one to hold me tight, no one to kiss goodnight. I believe you think if you do, we will cave-in and not fix what is broken but I don’t believe that. I think that connection is what started us in the first place. I could not get enough of your touch. your arms around me, your lips touching my skin, my forehead the shivers you sent down my spine, the butterflies you drove wild in me. I felt them even still after 15 years I know I told you this on 18 February once you’ve landed for your trip, that not only did I miss you. I told you I was feeling nostalgic about us and the feelings I had for you were just like it was when we first met and got together 15 years ago for the first time, it made me smile in the first three days you were gone. My mood went from sad to happy and bursting at the seams with anticipation to see you again once you returned. I bet that you don’t even know this but I have kept every photo and every text message from you for years so I could always go back to them. You say that you were embarrassed that you always felt like you had to text me because I was insecure but the whole first six months of our relationship when we were an ocean apart, you had to call me and hear my voice at night so you could go to sleep and if your Bluetooth headpiece died, you would call me back on your cell phone just to hear me sleep with you on the phone, so you started that you made me needy to know that you were there. You were OK, alive, and breathing, even if it was over thousands of miles away just because I moved here to be with you didn’t mean that it was no longer needed, and when you started to fall out of love with me and in love with rose, you distance yourself from me you stopped calling you stop texting, but you still wanted to be that needy guy so you started doing that with her instead of me think we’re afraid that if you get close to me again we will just end up hurting each other again. Does for better or worse and sickness and health mean nothing to you? All day long I want to reach out to you call you text you but I don’t know where we even stand at this point so when you see these messages I hope you know that I’m reaching out to you to make sure you’re OK. Story I don’t know what it’s like to not have such deep emotions for you, even when I feel I have nothing left, I feel that completely. I didn’t realize how much things I had from my past that was triggering me, and it was controlling me until I seen that the sights were pointed to the one person I had felt genuine love for, buy then the damage was already done, I see you putting up a brick wall each day blocking me away while I’m on the other side of that wall with a sledgehammer trying so desperately to break through to you.

[goldensunset]

.

[volleychumps]

Heyy! Can you do one where Osamu, kuroo, akaashi and Tsukishima, say something mean to their s/o and their s/o avoids them for days? When they finally get ahold of their s/o, their s/o just sorta cries because it hit their insecure spot? Fluff in the end🥺

Listen, I can’t not write this. 

Irrevocable Words. 

- the one in which they accidentally make you give them the silent treatment because of their lashing out. -

~ Osamu Miya, Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji, and Tsukishima Kei~ 

TW: Cursing, angst to fluff, timeskip! for Osamu, 

------------------

Osamu Miya

“Those are important files, ya know?” 

“Samu, I’m sorry. You should’ve told me you needed last month’s earnings and I would’ve looked for them before we came this morning.” The hand you tried to settle onto Osamu’s bicep was shaken off as your movements faltered. 

Your voice wobbled at the sight of your stoic fiance, an annoyed glint in his eye as he rummages through his files. Osamu felt a flare in his stomach, a lack of sleep contributing to his impatient state. The day had been a busy one, Osamu deciding that he needed this particular file for his business call tomorrow before the two of you headed home for the night. 

“I told ya not to move anything back to the place.”

“I didn’t.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Here, just let me help-” 

“Don’t touch a goddamn thing, I’ll do it myself.” There it was. The lashing out that was bound to happen occurred with a pointed tongue as he refused to look at you, rummaging through his file cabinets. “As I do everything else.” 

He closes the cabinet sharply. “The least ya could do is try your best not to be a nuisance-” 

Osamu flinches at the slam of one of the office desk drawers, chest sinking when he sees the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The paper he needed is thrown on the desk carelessly as you shove your jacket on, wetness slipping down your cheeks.

“And I’m not your goddamn secretary. I’m heading home first.” 

“Y/N-” 

“And don’t worry, I promise I’ll manage to do this by myself somehow.” Your voice cracks bitterly, the bell by the door jingling mockingly in Osamu’s ears as you exit, the chef hanging his head with a sigh and regret tinging his chest.

He was wrong to pray this would blow over, not expecting to wake without your warmth by his side. You avoided him on the way to the restaurant, cleaning quietly while giving vague answers to his questions, shifting out of his attempts to embrace you with apologies. 

Deciding to give you space, he softly tells you to take the next few days off, unprepared for the tired look you had given him, simply nodding in response as you slipped into your side of the bed with your back turned to him.

“Where’s your pretty girlfriend?” 

“Fiance.” Osamu forces a smile at his two elderly regulars two days later, the wife’s smile widening at his correction. 

“Oho! Cherish each other while you youths still can, she really does brighten this place up, doesn’t she?” 

You do.

Osamu’s eyes feel hot as he does a messy job of cleaning up the restaurant, closing up shop early and stopping by your favorite bakery to pick up the ridiculously expensive cake he only ever buys for your birthday. 

Throwing the door open to your shared apartment hastily, you gasp at the gray-haired man’s sudden entry, dropping the spoon you were about to use to taste the dish you were making on the stove.

“Samu, y-you’re home early-” 

“What’s all this?” He tries to steady his breaths at the sight of a nicely prepared table, something you hardly ever got to share ever since the night shifts overtook your lives and caused a rift between the two of you. 

You’re silent for a second, looking away from his warm stare as you shift under his gaze. 

“...I miss you.” Dark eyes widen when you begin to hiccup over your words, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “But I didn’t wanna be a nusciance-”

“Oh god, darlin’ no.” You’re pulled tightly into his chest as you cry, whole body shaking with tremors as Osamu’s inner turmoil merely increases.

If Osamu could go back in time and punch himself he would, unknowing of the torment he caused you over the past few days, thinking you just needed space. 

“I want to marry ya Y/N, I’m so sorry.” 

“I love you so much Samu.” You sniffle into his chest, causing him to smile softly, a hand sifting through your hair to hold you tighter to him. 

“I brought cake.” 

You laugh through the onslaught of tears. 

“And I made dinner.” 

“Then what are we waitin’ for?” 

“Just hold me like this for awhile?”

“Y/N.” He kisses the top of your head, finally feeling at ease with your figure in his arms. Osamu whispers a confession he hardly shared with you, wanting those words in particular to be special as he bridged the gap between the two of you.

“I love ya so much more, don’t you go forgettin’ it.”

Kuroo Tetsurou

“I said I was sorry!” 

“Is sorry supposed to just fix everything, Tetsurou?” 

“Tetsurou? Are you seriously withholding me from my nickname privileges?” 

You cross your arms at his attempt to make you laugh, thoroughly angry with the mess your boyfriend made of things as his smile fades at your peeved stare. 

“Look, what was I supposed to do?” 

“How about not leaving my parents waiting for you at the restaurant that you invited them to for another one of your spontaneous volleyball practices?” 

“I texted you I had to cancel!” 

“That was a half hour before we were supposed to meet, Kuroo! They were so excited to meet you they got there early. God, why can’t you ever take things seriously?” 

“You’re right.” A bitter chuckle slips Kuroo’s lips as you falter at the sudden tone change, the volleyball gym seeming bigger than ever as his next sentence makes your lips tremble.

“Since I can’t ever take things seriously, then I must not need my serious girlfriend then, right?” Your eyes widen. “I can just find somebody else who won’t fucking hound me all the time.”

His cat-like eyes widen as the words slip his tongue, unintentionally coming out crueler than he intended. To make it worse, you simply stayed silent, your body physically backing down and away from him as you turned on your heel. 

“Wait, I didn’t-” 

“Do it then.” His chest just about shatters as your shoulders tremble, refusing to turn back around as your voice takes on an uncharasterically defeated tone. “I hope they make you fucking happy.” 

Kuroo runs a hand through his raven hair frustratedly at the way you rushed out of the gym, throwing a stray ball so hard at the wall before his vision becomes skewed with heat. 

He should have expected the next week to be utter hell. You left class before he could catch you by escaping to the bathroom with all your things, leaving school another way instead of the exit you always took together before he had to start club activities. 

“Kenma, what are you doing?” 

“You can’t come in here.” 

“I’m missing class for this. Let me through.” 

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Kenma shrugged, eyes on his handheld. “I told her I’d watch the door so you can’t surprise her during our breaktime.” 

“I’m her boyfriend. And you’re not her guarddog.” 

“No, I’m her friend.” Kenma’s eyes narrow at his childhood friend. “And last time I checked, you’re on the search for someone who isn’t her.” 

“So she told you.” 

“Dick move, by the way.” 

Kuroo’s calls go straight to voicemail, his emotions affecting his playing with each passing day. He leaves little notes in your shoe locker to meet him, heart sinking more and more with every time you stood him up. 

And it wasn’t until he saw you smiling again at a joke Yaku made that he truly felt like he was losing you. 

“Go home.” 

The sight wasn’t one you were expecting to see, Kuroo sitting on the steps to your house with his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, the dark bags under his eyes sparking worry within you. 

“It’s probably better if my parents don’t see you-” 

“I’m sorry.” His eyes seem to have lost a little of their glint, regret swimming in the tall boy’s pupils as your guard softens. “I’m so goddamn sorry I ran my mouth and said shit I didn’t even mean-” 

“Tetsurou-” 

“And I hurt you in the process. I hurt the one thing that matters to me the most, and I’m sitting here playing the creepy ex that stalks the girl he loves-” 

“You love me?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? You’re done with me, and I deserve it-” 

He’s cut off with the sight of tears hitting the wood in front of him, lifting his head to see tears streaking down your cheeks. On instinct, he reaches out softly, rising to his feet to cup your cheek, astonished when you curl into his touch. 

“I’m so fucking mad at you right now.” 

“Noted.” Kuroo laughs somberly, a wave of emotion hitting him as you do something you hadn’t done in days. 

You look him in the eye, tugging him closer by the sides of his jacket. 

“But I love you too, you absolute idiot.” 

Kuroo grins into the kiss you press onto his lips, heart lifting in weight as he pulls you closer. 

“Does this mean we can go back to Tetsu?” 

“I’m going back to ignoring you-” 

“No.” Kuroo’s tone turns serious as he holds you a little tighter. “I can’t do that again.” 

You smile as he presses a kiss to your temple lovingly. 

“Being away from you was complete and utter hell, sweetheart.” 

Akaashi Keiji

“Tell me how to make this right.”

“Right, Y/N.” Akaashi refused to meet your eyes as he loosens his school tie, not slowing his pace for you to catch up with as he throws the doors open to the volleyball club. The usually put-together setter had an angry glint in his eye that silenced his awaiting teammates. “Let’s just go back in time before you agreed to be his partner.”

“Hey hey, what’s going on you two?” Bokuto jogs up, his worried tone making your lips tremble even more at the sight of Akaashi’s turned back.

“I came to you as soon as he made a move! I didn’t let him-”

“There shouldn’t have been an opportunity for him to make a move in the first place.” Akaashi’s jaw clenched as you shuffle in place.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, you think I wanted him to try to kiss me?!” You fight the waver in your voice, standing your ground. “It was a project for class. I didn’t know his intentions-“

“I told you what his intentions were, but you never listen.” Akaashi turns hastily, startling you and causing you to stumble slightly backwards into Bokuto.

“Akaashi-“

“Stop defending her. She never listens to me, and then comes crying to me when it turns out I’m right.” Akaashi snips at his best friend, ignoring the silent stares from his quiet teammates. “Why can’t you get it through your head, Y/N? I’m not your goddamn babysitter-“

“You’re right.” You interrupt, fingernails biting into your palms as you choke back a sob. “You’re not, you’re my boyfriend. I just wanted to respect you by coming to you with something like this, but it turns out I’m just a hinderance.”

Akaashi falters for a second, blue eyes widening a fraction at the angry heat that fills your eyes as regret begins to bubble in his stomach at his harsh words.

“Y/N-“

“Give me some space, Keiji.” You say softly, patting Bokuto’s arm to let you through as your shoulders sink in a defeated manner. “I promise I won’t come crying to you about anything else.”

Your steps echo as you walk out of the gym, Konoha breaking the silence first when the door shuts behind you.

“Hate to say it, but that was well-deserved, man.”

Akaashi closes his eyes, head falling back towards the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing, pretending like he wasn’t scared of you slipping through his fingers. He willed himself to not allow himself to chase after you, his anger directed towards you fading as he forces himself to respect your wishes. 

It was obvious you were avoiding him. Akaashi had blinked when Bokuto had self-proclaimed that he needed you as his “study buddy” during breaks when you weren’t even in the same year as the owlish boy. It got worse when you seemed to panic when Akaashi willed you to talk to him, eyes refusing to meet his watery blue ones as you pushed him further away.

So he gave you your space, wilting with each passing day. It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you a week later, the setter turning hastily on his heel to walk in the opposite direction before a soft tug on the back of his school shirt wills him to stop. 

“Keiji.” Your wobbly voice makes him turn back around immediately, a soft palm already cupping your cheek gently. “I’m s-” 

“I’m sorry for being cruel.” The words are whispered against your forehead, Akaashi’s heartstrings tugging in the worst way possible. “I was angry at the situation, my love. And that sorry excuse you call a classmate. Please,” 

His grip tightens just a little more as he feels wet warmth drip into the palm that was cupping your face.

“Forgive me.” 

“I told you I wouldn’t come crying to you-” 

“I want it all, Y/N.” Akaashi pulls back slightly, voice cracking slightly as blue stares intensely into your irises. “I want all of you. Tears included.”

You swat his chest playfully as Akaashi manages a soft smile, hand threaded through your hair as he presses you against his chest.

“Do you still need space?” He murmurs, and you smile at the sound of his hearbeat picking up as he awaited your answer fearfully. 

“Nope. The exact opposite, please hold me?” 

His embrace relaxes immediately, and your heart skips a beat at the sound of his relieved sigh, his slight nod making the weight lift off your chest. 

“Good, now I can take care of your classmate-” 

“Keiji-”

“Nope, my love.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, Akaashi’s eyes swirling with devotion. 

“No one gets to try anything with you so long as you’re safe with me.” 

Tsukishima Kei 

“So I’m the bad guy again.” 

“Do you want the honest answer, Kei?” You exhaustedly run a hand through your hair as Tsukishima’s scowl deepens, his long legs easily catching up with you in stride as he tugs on your wrist as the rambunctious court gets further and further away. 

“It’s not my fault you’re insecure.” 

You flinch. “Well maybe you shouldn’t let the girls in the stands cling to you after your matches. They were all over you, Tsukki! And you didn’t seem to mind it one bit.” 

“What?” Annoyance brims the blonde’s voice as he takes another step forward, clenching his jaw when he sees the quiver in your lip, distrust filling the atmosphere between the two of you. 

“Afraid that they’re prettier or better than you’ll ever be?” 

You feel as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, breath catching in your throat at his insinuation. His guard slackens almost immediately, clicking his tongue before turning away, too proud to apologize for the words he regretted as soon as they slipped his tongue like venom. 

“Yeah.” You laugh humorlessly, making brown eyes dart over to your expression immediately. “You’re 100% correct. I am afraid you’ll find someone better than me in all aspects. Because I love you, you absolute asshole. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

The silence that befalls the two of you in the deserted hall is broken when you flinch away when Tsukishima tries to take a step towards you. 

“I didn’t-” 

“You never mean to do anything, Kei.” You say in a hushed tone, turning your back on him in an attempt to shield the hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “But you somehow always manage to.” 

The win for Karasuno didn’t mean much to the blonde that night, hoping that this would just go away and things would be back to normal. However, it was anything but. You didn’t look his way once in class, disappearing when it was over. Your voice trembled as you had avoided his seemingly stoic eyes through his frames, simply stating that you wished for some time away from him. 

He was fine. Or at least pretending to be on the outside. In truth, he would never find better, because you were it for him, words that you would never catch slipping his mouth. So he put on a front, pretending that your absence had zero effect on him whatsoever. Pretending the brush of your body against him in the hall as you pass each other didn’t make the blonde want to cave. 

It was the smile you shot at Hinata during one of your breaks that caused him to. The first glint in your eye in awhile, and it had been caused by him of all people, prompting the tall middle blocker to tug you by the forearm into the corridor.

“Tsukishima-” 

“I hate this.” 

You falter for a second, guard back up in a flash as your back touches the wall. “What did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything, and it’s pissing me off.” 

“I don’t follow-” 

“I was wrong.” His forehead touches your shoulder as you stiffen before relaxing against his familiar touch. “I don’t care how many times I have to apologize. You win, okay? I’m sorry.” 

“This is a rather aggressive apology-” 

“Y/N.” Tsukishima lifts his head so it’s level with your height, unprepared for the way tears brimmed your eyes at the proximity, your guard diminishing. 

“What if you do find someone better one day, Tsukki?” Your voice cracks, inner fears trickling to the surface. “Do I need to prepare myself to lose you-?” 

You gasp as Tsukishima’s jaw ticks before kissing you intensely, his hand touching your lower back to pull you closer. 

“No. You don’t need to do something stupid like that.” His eyes were slightly glaring at you, a flush across both his cheeks. “Because there is no one better than you, okay?” 

It was your turn for heat to flood your cheeks as your eyes widen a fraction, his breath tickling your ear as you stutter. “Kei-” 

“I love you too. I said it, are you satisfied now?”  

---------------------------------------------------------

General works: @takemetovalhalla  @faesbae  @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046   @let-me-have-my-own-name  @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite   @curiouslilbeast  @aprettyfruit   @wisepandaslimeland   @h0ngh0ngh0ng   @lmkjimin   @orangegiraffe7   @dai-tsukki-desu   @kac-chowsballs   @spikertrash   @yamaguwuchi   @lord-suneater-explosion   @holaaaf  @babyybokutoakaashi   @lexysclubhouse   @disneyloving-muggle   @kuuuuroo   @theonep1ece  @that-chick212  @mjoork

[tacticaldiary]

Having a relationship w/ Oikawa based on a bet and the gf heard it when the seijoh 4 talked about it making oikawa panicked when he knows his gf heard it.. ahh angst to fluff? Hehe thank youuuu

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was fun to write. :)

Betting on You

Pairing: Reader x Oikawa Tooru

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, a lil fluff

He couldn’t lose her, anyone but her. He shouldn’t have accepted the bet. Needless to say, Oikawa Tooru has a lot of regrets right now. Opening up and being vulnerable to his partner was thankfully not one of them, even if it had ended up with them crying in each others arms. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mumbling incoherently, Y/N reaches out next to her in the bed, trying to find the warm body that usually occupied the space next her. Frowning when she feels only the bedsheets, she opens her eyes and squints. There’s no one next to her. 

“Tooru?” she mutters softly, yawning and sitting up. He was always there, clinging to her, holding her close. Strange. She decides to wait for him, wanting his warmth to fall asleep with. The guy was like a living heater, which was useful during cold winter nights like this one. 

Twenty minutes pass and he still doesn’t come back. Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N sighs and pulls herself to the edge of the bed, slipping on a pair of slippers. She shivers a little when the cold air hits her skin, but continues slowly towards the door to their shared bedroom. Opening it with a quiet creak, she immediately hears voices. A little confused, she quietly keeps walking, stopping at the doorway to the living room. 

She tilts her head in confusion when she sees Tooru laying on the couch, tapping away at his phone. It appears he’s on a voice call on speaker. 

“Almost three months.”

“Honestly, none of us expected you to last this long.”

Her eyes widen as she hears familiar voices. Matsukawa and Hanamaki?

“You’re still keeping him to that?” Iwaizumi? What were they doing this late at night? The clock on the wall tells her it’s 2 in the morning. 

“Obviously. I thought the money was pretty much guaranteed.”

“Can you blame us? He’s never kept someone around for more than a month.”

“Shut up.” Tooru's quiet voice reaches her ears. What money? What was going on?

“You’re not going to win.” comes Iwaizumi’s annoyed voice. “It’s Y/N.”

“Yeah, but before her it was also Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan and Aiko-Chan and-”

“Alright, I get it. Iwa-Chan’s the only one who’s on my side.” he pouts, cutting off Hanamaki’s annoying high-pitched imitation of him. 

“We still don’t know why. You’re obviously going to lose the bet. It’s inevitable.” Matsukawa claim confidently

...Bet?

“I’ll win in a few days, if you haven’t noticed. Nothing’s gonna happen in a few days.” Tooru rolls his eyes.

“And then you’ll dump her?”

Y/N suddenly feels cold, and it has nothing to do with the weather. Dump her? Bet? WHat was going on? Her mind was racing. Tooru hadn’t indicated that he was unhappy, or wanted to break up. He was always telling her how much he loved her. Was he lying? She felt a little sick at the thought.

“Yeah, the bet was to keep someone around for more than three months. You’ll be done in a few days. What’re you gonna do then?”

What?

“A bet?” she says aloud, her voice hollow with shock.

Tooru jumps and drops his phone, quickly turning around to see his girlfriend looking at him in horror. 

“Y-Y/N-Chan...” he scrambles to his feet and ends the call, wondering how much she had heard. “I thought you were asleep?” he quickly moves towards her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. He freezes when she backs away, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“A bet, Tooru? A bet?” 

“What-? Wait, Y/N...it’s not what you think-”

“Keep me around? You were dating me for a...bet?” her voice starts shaking a little, as she remembers how mere hours ago, he was holding her, assuring her how much he loved her.

“No! I-”

“Am I a game to you? A bet? Are you fucking kidding me?” She nearly laughs, because of course he would only date her for a bet. Of course. 

He frantically shakes his head, reaching out for her again, but thinking better of it when he glares at him with eyes full of unshed tears. His eyes widened. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. “Y/N-Chan, listen to me, please, let me explain.” he sounds panicked. 

She clenches her jaw. “I should have seen this coming. Of course the Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t go out with someone like me.” She lets out a bitter chuckle at his stunned expression. Before he can interrupt, she pushes on. “Why would you, when you have girls, so much more perfect than me, throwing themselves at your feet all the time?”

“Y/N-” he’s trying desperately to get a word in, wincing when she raises her voice to overpower his. 

“Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan.” she imitates, recalling the phone call. Tears she’s tried to keep at bay finally start trickling down and Oikawa’s heart twists painfully, knowing that he was the one who caused it. “Obviously, the only reason you’d consider me was because of a bet, a fucking bet, Tooru.” she cries out angrily. 

“Y/N-Chan, listen to me.” he says seriously, grabbing her shoulder and looking her in the eyes. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the beginning. The bet means nothing to me.”

Her next word feel like a punch to the gut. 

“Bullshit.” she whispers, before repeating herself louder. “Utter bullshit. You never loved me.”

“I did, I do!” he insists. 

“If you did, it wouldn’t have taken a bet for you to ask me out!” she roughly shoves his hands off her. Taking a deep breath, forcing herself to ignore his hurt look. “It’s my fault too, isn’t it? I should’ve known better than to accept dating the Oikawa Tooru, the school heartthrob, notorious for playing around.” her words are laced with venom and self-pity. “There’s always gonna be someone better. Someone prettier, skinner, funnier. I was stupid for thinking you would ever fall for me.” All her insecurities come spilling out, accumulated from months of dating him, enduring the comments whispered under the breath by jealous students, girls openly flirting with her boyfriend. She was stupid to think she would ever be enough.

Pushing past him, wiping her sleeves across her eyes, she storms back into the bedroom, Oikawa at her heels behind her. She grabs her pillow and a blanket, turning back around and moving to the couch in the living room. She does her best to ignore her boyfriend's desperate attempts to gain her attention, begging her to give him a chance to explain. She sets up the items and lays on the couch, pulling the blanket to her chin and turning to face the back of the couch.

She refused to sleep anywhere near him. When he doesn’t stop talking she says coldly:

“Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

“No.”

She pauses. “No?”

“Not until you hear me out.” He crosses his arms.

“I’ve heard enough.”

“It’s a misunderstanding. If you’d just let me explain-”

“I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

He was dreading that. He really does love her, so fucking much. He doesn't want to lose her.

“Y/N-”

“I’m going to sleep.” She had never spoken to him in that tone before.

She hears a sigh after a few moments of silence, in which he realises that she was going to be stubborn till the end. Y/N hears him walk away and she buries her face in the blanket, silently crying to herself. She freezes when she hears the bedroom door close with a ‘click’ and footsteps approaching her. She turns around a little, to see Oikawa sitting at the foot of the couch with his own blanket and pillow. He doesn’t look at her, focusing on fluffing his pillow and pulling his thicker, warmer quilt over himself. He was equally as stubborn and wasn’t going to leave her alone like this.

She scoffs and settles back down again, still crying. If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it. The two lay in silence for a good thirty minutes. Y/N had stopped crying, but was still awake because how the hell was she supposed to fall asleep after what she had learnt? 

She’s startled when she suddenly hears Oikawa’s soft voice. “I love you, you know? I really do. Ever since I saw you in Chemistry last year. You caught my eye so quickly, and I flirted with you for weeks before you got the hint.” he laughs breathily. “You didn’t want my attention like everyone else, and I was curious. It felt different to be the one trying to get someone else’s attention.” he takes a deep breath, and she realises with a start that she’s never heard him this vulnerable. He probably thinks she’s asleep. 

“I was planning to ask you out before and I told the others and they laughed at me.” he frowns at the memory. “The assholes thought I was kidding, that I wasn’t serious. Iwa-Chan was the only one who took it seriously. I don’t blame them, cause I’d only ever dated for fun before.” He breathes in deeply again, steadying his voice and Y/N’s eyes widen when she realizes he’s holding back tears. 

“So when they bet that I couldn't last more than 3 months with you, I agreed, but only because I was going to ask you out anyway, and I intended on staying as long as I could. As long as you’d let me stay by your side.” He lets out a sad, watery chuckle, and Y/N feels her stomach drop. She never wanted to hear that sound from him again.

“I...shit, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. You’re the only one for me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” A strangled, muffled sob, reaches her ears, and it takes all of her willpower to remain still. 

“I’m serious about you...about us. You’re not a game, you never were. I just wanted to be with you. I want to be able to hold you again.” another muffled cry, as he buries his face in his hands. He’d never willingly let anyone see himself like this, not even Y/N. He was glad she was asleep. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, princess.” he stays where he is, sitting up leaning back on the couch, calming himself down, letting out soft hiccups every now and then. 

Y/N is wide awake, thinking over his words. They had to be genuine, right? He had no idea she was awake. He had sounded so...real and vulnerable, nothing like the strong façade he usually put up in front of others. Taking her chances, she discreetly moves, eyes widening when she sees the state he’s in. 

One of his hands is over his mouth, muffling his small sobs, Y/N wants to cry as she realises it’s probably so he doesn’t wake her up. His other hand is clenched tightly in his brown hair, his knees drawn to his chest. His face was blotchy and red and wet with tears. She’s never seen him like this. She moves and he doesn’t notice. 

Sitting directly behind him, she gently grabs the hand in his hair, to which he nearly jumps out of his skin. Y/N would usually laugh at the reaction, if not for the way he was looking up at her. She eases his hand out of his hair and holds it, tugging him up to the couch. He hesitates, before climbing up, sitting on the cushion next to her. 

“You-” his voice wavers, and he tries again. “You were awake?”

She nods, glancing at their connected hands, before staring at the ground. She hears his sharply take in a breath. 

“Y/N...love, I meant it. I meant every word, I swear.” 

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” she mumbles, tugging on his hand again, until they're both laying on the couch. She reaches over and grabs Oikawa’s quilt and pulls it on the two of them. She relaxes against him when his arms automatically wind around her waist and he buries his face in her hair, pressing small kisses on her. Each was an unspoken apology. 

She knows he’s crying when she feels the tears hit her skin. 

He knows she’s crying when he can feel her shaky, irregular breaths.

They lay there, eventually falling asleep clutching each other tightly, both of them hurting on the inside. They would have to have a serious talk tomorrow, but both had a blooming hope that they would pull through. 

Requests are open and Welcome. Thanks for reading!

[illuminiscentboba]

[𝟐:𝟑𝟔 𝐚𝐦] ; another step into his galaxy

warnings; previous bad relationships, self doubts/insecurities

Oikawa laid awake staring at the luminescent green stars encompassing his ceiling.

It wasn't the first time he was up in a half awake, half asleep daze past midnight or the first time he suddenly desired to do something about his life in the middle of the night. But during this sleepless moment he found himself thinking about you.

You were another brilliant star in his galaxy, except you were brighter than anything else he's ever seen, bright in ways light and space couldn't compare, the star that fell from the sky and found him. Too cheesy, makki would remark.  

But it was true. He thought that about you every time you laughed, smiled, the way you would look at him, even blinking brighter as you teased him, stirring laughter from his 'friends' who were too amused to find someone that could keep up with him and keep him on his toes.

He smiled at the very thought, waiting.

Waiting, as his eyes flitting from one star to the other. Waiting...for what wouldn't come.

Here past midnight tooru was waiting for the negative part of his mind to work into overdrive, to supply him with something to worry about, something to disturb his peace, to tell him that his happiness was wrong. 

But surprisingly, he felt ok. He felt alright, better than other nights. Nights years ago before he met you.

The nights that he felt even the darkness coiling around him and his mind eating itself alive, he felt bitter, anxious, frenzied, and then before he knew it, it would be morning again.  

Tonight on the other hand was peaceful, like he was bouncing along the planets in space. The space called his room, gazing at the green stars with love.

He didn’t feel like the small insecurities that sporadically crept over him in relationships. The small worries of ‘will they like this?’ ‘What if this is too overboard?’

Those "what ifs" kept him up, holding him back on a lot of things, like sending a message because ‘what if I’m bothering them?’ ‘Am I too clingy?’ 

And god, the heavy thought that brought tears to his eyes as he tried to argue with the negative side of his mind, ‘am I good enough for them?’

You see, it took Oikawa maybe a bit too long to discover that his significant other had to also be his best friend.

A lot of long months and a lot of years of fighting himself and about everything in to stop running away and avoiding his feelings.

He was afraid.

Afraid of a lot of things but most of all, afraid of being honest, of people seeing who he truly was. A vision even he was wrong about with how distorted he would think of himself as.

But you, thank you. Thank you for giving him room to be honest, for being patient, for having deep late night conversations with him and then laughing with him about his most recent shower thought moments later.

Thank you for celebrating his small and big achievements with him, spoiling him when he felt down and going out of your way to make him feel special.

Tonight his mind was clear of negative thoughts, and his heart felt a little lighter. 

You were a treasure, easily the kindest star he's ever known. Around you, he didn't have to fight to prove his worth. He could talk in high and low pitched voices, he could wear that ugly outfit and wear matching boas and goofy sunglasses as you guys did some chaotic karaoke.

You guys could laugh at each other getting brainfreeze over slushies, text each other all night and regret it but never trade it for anything else.

Everything was okay around you, no more than okay. It was timeless.

He could be honest, vulnerable but feel so safe. He felt like he was on cloud nine and instead of being afraid of getting attached to you and having to push you away he felt like he was dancing on mars, fingers intertwined with yours as he spun you, in a melody only you two knew.

It was funny how the small details could pile, the small acts of caring and loving others and yourself made everything so different.

He got to feel excited, almost like a gradeschool kid with their first crush. This wasn't his first crush, first time liking anyone or anything, firsts no longer held a special ring to him.

Or that was what he thought until he realized that he wanted to be around you forever. It would be the first time he wanted to fight to keep someone around. 

And the first time he also picked himself first. He wanted to remind himself that he was enough, to take care of himself, to smirk at the mirror, to say his affirmations and to believe them. 

To polish not himself, but instead polish his love through his actions, to wipe off the dirt on his heart and practice self care, not polish his personality. Another late night aspiration.

But he was looking forward, and that was a start. 

That brought a smile to his face, one of relief and genuine happiness, a rare one.

Happiness that grew as he lifted his phone to his face, squinting against the brightness as he skimmed through the photos he took today. You were grinning up at him, sitting at a table with your drink before he got there.

And he continued thinking as he scrolled through the other photos suddenly remembering...THE EMBARASSING THING HE SAID TO YOU TODAY JESUS CHRIST, WHY-

He pressed his face into the pillow resisting the strong urge to scream into it, eventually resorting to sitting up with his legs crossed, uncurling his spine in a form that vaguely resembled meditating as he breathed in slowly and carefully, mentally warding away the embarrassment.

That was another thing he had to deal with for a short while that he expressed his feelings and communicated. Embarrassment.

 But he was tooru, oikawa, a little embarrassment was to be expected, right? Surely he could endure it, alongside all the other embarrassing things that's happened throughout his life. 

And maybe he really was getting better at enduring it because he didn't feel embarrassed about being vulnerable as much anymore.

Because when he talked with you about his feelings and was honest with you, he felt relieved, seen and loved, wondering why he agonized by himself for so long with someone like you around to listen and reassure him with full confidence. There was nothing better than feeling loved, cared about and connected with someone. 

Perhaps he was as down bad as Mattsun claimed he was.

Maybe his head really always was up in the clouds like dear Iwa-chan insisted it was.

And maybe for once his heart and mind had settled down like Makki concluded it did.

It made him a little too happy that his friends were happy with him about him thinking of trying to get back into seeing someone after a bit of self doubt and overthinking. 

Ah, overthinking...but what if it could all work out like this? What if all the heart break and pain was preparation for something better? What if his messy love life would finally warmer, sweeter and as loving as you?

What if he was to find someone with room in their heart they’ve made themselves on purpose to love him? With full intention to and without regrets? 

He didn’t wish for a lot of things but he made a prayer deep in his heart. For that someone to be you.

But he knew better than to sit around and daydream. Positive results didn’t come from doing nothing.

And so with lots of hope, a random bout of courage and a lot of other emotions, he dialed your number, on purpose, will full intention of loving you as he pressed the phone to his ear. 

And so when the ringing ceased, and you picked up, that was how tooru oikawa made one of the most special late night decisions of his life, and said the words he's been wanting to for a lifetime. 

 "Hey y/n?"

"I love you."     

-

a/n; I’m alive guys 😭 and I can’t believe that this is the first thing I’ve ever wrote for oiks 😵‍💫🧍‍♂️ tho after reading it, it felt less like the fluffy piece i expected, more like an oiks mental health and struggling and wanting to and making steps towards the life he wants- if the text starts repeating pls tell me 😭

[animeangsteng]

Sprite with a Venti! Eternal! Reader (platonic)

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Sprite with a Venti! Eternal! Reader

.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎… ⋙

Warning: mention of violence (implicit) and fights, spoilers, alcohol, drunk person, immortality

.

Male! Eternal! Wind controlling! Venti (Genshin impact)! Reader

Sorry this is brief but I wasn’t sure about how and what to say about this.

I’m not that great at platonic feelings between similar ages (in particular children like)

.

Similar to this: Sprite with a Diluc! Reader

.

█ █ █ █ █ 100% *Tuning complete*

.

Sprite adores you, sometimes even more than she adores Ikaris (though she’ll never admit it)

Together you wreak havoc whenever and wherever you can, in particular pranking your fellow Eternals

She loves hosting shows for humans (as proved in the movie) and illustrate the wonderful stories and adventures you sing and narrate

You two are always together during fights and you protect each other’s back

Cue her helping you get drunk just to be lectured by Ajak

She sometimes confide her insecurities and rage about her body, as you’re both stuck into a kid’s body

The “Gay friends are amazing” stereotype was based on you two (whether if your actually gay or not it doesn’t matter)

She loved giving snarky remarks, calmed and toned down by your playful jokes

¡Spoilers!

After discovering Ajak’s death she’ll cry in your arms (and you’ll probably join her a for a bit)

She’ll also try to convince you to join her side and Ikaris’

If you don’t she’ll be really hurt and bitter though she’ll try to avoid fighting you for old times’ sake

Once she gets turned into human she asks you if you want to become human too but, regardless of your choice, she’ll want you to be by her side in this new adventure

.

-I think that’s enough wine- reprimanded Ajak.

Immediately, as he began running away while holding tight the bottle, Sprite created illusions of the Eternals’ bard, confusing her.

-Stop being kids!- tried to reason Sersi, uselessly.

-She’ll neve’ betray me!- the boy laughed, completely drunk, holding his wine close to himself, as all his copies did.

-Sprite!- called Ikaris and immediately she stopped, pouting because her fun was interrupted.

As Ajak pulled away by an ear the bard he dramatically cried, pointing at Sprite: -Traitow! You betwayed meeeeee!-.

In return he only got a fake sorry back and some face palms from his fellow Eternals.

They all knew he could have just blown her away but did it matter?

Not really.

Firstly, he was too drunk to do anything anyways.

Secondly, he would have never fought against his friends, no matter how drunk or mad he got.

And thirdly... how could anyone take him seriously, with his face red because of the alcohol and a childish appearance (not to mentions his childish personality)?

[kiatheinsomniac]

1. I LOVE your writing! You're amazing! 2. If it's not too much trouble, could I request something where Ezio's wife is feeling quite insecure because she feels like she isn't as good as some of the other women Ezio has "been" with like Caterina and Ezio is trying to assure her that she shouldn't feel like that

Of course!! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get round to this, I've hardly been active on Tumblr at all in quite a while but I miss it here :(

She glanced over to where the Contessa was being checked over by a doctor while Ezio worriedly looked over her. Deep down, she knew that he was only concerned because she was a powerful ally to the brotherhood and her arrest at the hands of the Borgia had put her contribution to that alliance in jeopardy. But she couldn't help but fear that he was worried because they had a history together.

Claudia had told (Y/n) enough of what her husband was like in his youth - romancing every attractive woman he laid eyes on. On good days, this made her feel special - she were the one he married, after all - but on worse ones, it made her worry that he felt he could do better and go back to some of these women. Ezio was a faithful man, especially when it came to family, but this didn't stop her from worrying that she may not quite reach what he's been treated to by other women in his past.

She must have been glaring a little too hard though, because soon enough, Claudia was by her side, her arms folded.

"The woman is fine, I have a meeting to attend and he’s holding it up to fuss over her.” She snapped in disdain, her voice lowered as to not carry across the stone walls of Isola Tiberina’s Assassin hideout. 

“I don’t like it.” (Y/n) confessed, her eyes shooting daggers at the Contessa of Forli. Claudia raised a brow at the acid in her tone, finding it so unlike her sister-in-law to be so bitter. Glancing over at Claudia’s expression of surprise, she stepped her way out of the conversation to go and fetch Ezio. He had duties as Mentor of the Brotherhood and she had the claws of jealousy tying knots at her like a marionette. Emotions were something personal to (Y/n) and she wouldn’t watch herself become a wreck over some half-disgraced woman who had lost hold of her city. 

She could remember Ezio telling her how impressed he was to see a woman running a city all on her lonesome once... 

She cleared her throat, dismissing the thought as she did.

“Ezio, our contacts are waiting for you.” She spoke up, her face and voice the mask of business to hide her feelings. 

“Sì, I just-” 

“Bartolomeo has barracks to attend to, Volpe has a tavern to maintain and Claudia has a brothel to run.” She cut him off, watching as he turned his head quickly to face her, his expression a lock of shock and offence, “While they wait for you, their factions wait for them. You keep our entire Brotherhood on hold in a most dire hour to fuss over the Contessa who I’m sure if capable enough of getting her own health in order with the medico.” Ezio had stood now from Caterina’s side, bewildered at his wife’s ill temper. 

“Amore-“

“You have a job to do so go do it!” She snapped, “I have recruits to attend to and correspondence to deal with.” And with that said, she stormed off to the study in order to deal with the letters sent from the Brotherhood’s contacts across Italia. 

She set the few recruits that she had gathered in Roma some training assignments and filed through all the available contracts in the Mediterranean, even going as far as to reorganise all the books of the study’s library. All of this was done to avoid going to bed, knowing that Ezio would be there and knowing that he wold ask her about her attitude from earlier. 

It was when she was obsessively trying to get the paperweights in position that the door opened. In stepped the last man that she was willing to face in that moment: her poor husband who had suffered the brunt of her lashing out in jealousy. 

“Gioia,” He began, his tone soft yet cautious, “come to bed.” 

“But I need to sort these out…”

“I’m sure that the papers won’t grow wings and start flying any time soon.” He walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder and inhaling deeply as he pressed his face to her neck, “Come, I want to hold you and talk.” 

“I just need...” She obsessively tried to get the weight to fit between the lines of the letter perfectly, some part of her mind telling her that everything would be alright if all these little things were exactly where they needed to be, that she wouldn’t have to talk about her feelings if she just got these other things sorted out first. 

“You need to lay down with your husband,” One of his palms splayed across her stomach, tenderly rubbing up and down as his other hand caressed her waist, “and let him hold you in his arms,” A soft kiss pressed to the nape of her neck, “and tell him all about what has you so stressed. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Yeah, except the talking about my feelings bit.” She mumbled as the weight refused to quite fit between the lines, tears pricking her eyes, even if she tried to laugh a little. Ezio hummed knowingly. 

“Come on…”

“Ok...” She surrendered, letting him lead her upstairs with one arm around her waist while his free hand held her own, smaller, hand in his. 

He lead her up to their room where he began to strip her of her clothes that day, leaving her in a chemise. He frowned in sadness at her apathy, the way she didn’t melt into his touches as she usually would, and worry set into his veins. 

He pulled her to the bed where he lay beside her, propped up on one elbow while she laid on her back, her bottom lip trembling, eyes glassy and jaw held tight in determination to keep a cool composure. 

“What has upset you?”

“It’s stupid.” She replied simply, “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you or worried you, you don’t deserve that.” She took in a quick breath and covered her face with her hands, a small sob escaping her lips, each one that followed like a pair of scissors to his heartstrings. 

“If it’s making you feel this way, it can’t be stupid.” He rested a hand on her arm and she turned away from him, her hand gripping the case of the pillow under her head impossibly tightly. 

“It’s the Contessa.” She mumbled into the plush pillow, her cheeks already heating up in humiliation, “The way you risked your life to save her today and then you were fussing over her health and...” 

“Amore, you know that I would do all the same and more for you.” He spoke, almost in disbelief that this is what she was so upset about. There was a long silence as she wrapped her arms around her torso, hoping that somehow she could physically hold herself together with her arms. 

“Why did you marry me?” Fresh tears wet her cheeks and she muffled the sound of her crying in the sheets. He drew closer to her and held her in his arms, feeling her frame jolt with each sob. 

“Because I’m in love with you.” He replied simply, “I’m in love with the way you see the world and people, I’m in love with your passion and humour and intelligence.” He squeezed her tightly. 

“But you could have had any woman you pleased, any woman you’ve been with before. The countess of Forli: the only woman strong enough to run her own city and even fend off Borgia armies.” She hesitated but now that she had bottled up such strong emotions all day, the glass had cracked and no one could hold in its contents lest they slice their hands on the glass. “And don’t think I didn’t overhear that night back in Monteriggioni when I was still just the decipherer Leonardo had sent for the codex pages.” 

Once upon a time, this would have been a time for Ezio to be boastful, but now that he was a married man, he only felt rather embarrassed instead. Looking away for a moment, his eyes came back to land upon his wife. 

“You worry that you don’t live up to the women I’ve had before then?” He asked cautiously, knowing that this question may well only make things far worse if he were wrong. 

“She’s a fucking countess who runs her own city and has her own armies, not to mention the fact that she’s also very clearly good in bed. Who am I? The goddamn babysitter of all the recruits.” She threw her hands up in the air before rolling onto her back and turning her head to face him, at last, with teary eyes. 

“You, amore mio,” He began, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek, turning his body even more so in her direction, “are the woman who stole my heart so quickly, that I simply couldn’t wait to marry you.” It was true, they had only been seeing each other for just over 18 months when he asked her to marry him. “You’re an Assassin who is fighting for everyone in Roma and then all of Italia behind her borders.” A conviction began to grow within his voice as he took up her left hand in his, holding it up so that she could see her wedding and engagement rings. “You are the only woman in this world that I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He brought her hand up to place a kiss upon her knuckles. “I have had histories with women before, we both know this… But they are the past and you,” He leaned down to place a soft kiss upon her lips, lingering and tender, “are my future.” 

A small smile quivered upon her lips as fresh tears welled in her eyes, tears of an overwhelming sentiment of love. 

“I love you with all my heart, Ezio.”

[saintshigaraki]

the sun has not yet fallen

pairing: bakugou katsuki x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k 

excerpt: You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe.

a/n: me: i hate angst

       also me: writes this fic

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sometimes love requires work 

in case you want to read it on ao3!

Katsuki is in a bad mood. He was uncharacteristically quiet when he walked through the door which is more often than not a sign he was trying his damndest to hold back saying something just a bit too cruel. And you appreciate the effort, truly you do. 

On any other day, you would’ve let him be to work through his shit alone. He usually does that by cooking up something far too elaborate for a weekday night, and then after decompressing for a bit, he tends to slink back into whichever room you’re in and lay his head on your lap so you can work your fingers through his hair. 

You’ve found over the last two years that that is what tends to work best. Giving him space and letting him come to you.  

But today you’re feeling just as raw as he does. You can’t remember the last time you spent quality time together. You can’t remember the last time he didn’t go to bed so exhausted he was out before his head hit the pillow. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel this heavy cloud hanging over your head. You can’t remember a moment where there wasn't a timer counting down and down and down while you do nothing but wait for it to hit zero. You’re not quite sure what will happen when your time is up.

It’s selfish, probably, to want to be with him right now when you know he’s so weary, but you won’t even bother him, is what you tell yourself. You just want to be around him for an hour (or two) you want to stand so close to him you can smell the ever clinging scent of caramel and help him with dinner and think of brighter days. Better days. 

(You want things to go back to the way they were before. You want to cling to him, just for a short while, stuff your face into the crook of his neck while he tells you everything’s okay. That you guys are okay.

But that’s for another day. It has to be.

How many times have you told yourself that?)

You follow him as he stomps towards the kitchen. 

He aggressively grabs the ingredients for whatever he’s making and slams them on the counter, grumbling under his breath the whole time. You stand in the doorway worrying your hands, feeling awkward, and hating that you feel awkward in your own kitchen with your own boyfriend. 

It makes that awful nagging voice in your head grow just a bit louder. 

You approach him slowly while he sets up a pot filled with water and turns on the stove. He’s still grumbling to himself by the time you place your hand softly on his forearm. 

He jerks away immediately and narrows his eyes. You viciously stamp down exactly how awful that makes you feel. How small and unloved. 

“What do you want?” he says bluntly (and a little cruelly but a part of you says just ignore it, maybe if you close your eyes and cover your ears you can pretend that everything is fine, that you guys are fine) . 

That was part of his charm when you two first started dating. You loved that he was blunt, that he got to the point, there was really no guessing what Katsuki was thinking because he’d simply tell you and if it were any other day perhaps his words wouldn’t have bothered you as much as they did now. 

And it’s partly your fault, or maybe even mostly. Because you let it get this bad. You could have told him something was bothering you, that lately, you’ve been feeling a little insecure in this relationship. Katsuki was blunt but very rarely if ever cruel with you or your feelings. He would’ve understood, probably. 

But anytime you thought about broaching the subject with him, he always looked so, so tired. Bone tired. And you thought maybe it was selfish, to want him to comfort you over something this dumb. Over something as frivolous as this. He just needs time. 

(How much time, you wonder. How much more can you take? you ask yourself.)

“Are you fucking braindead or something,” he snaps, dragging you out of your spiraling. 

“I was just wondering if I could help. It’d be nice to cook dinner together.” We use to do it all the time, you almost say. Now you can’t even remember the last time you did. 

“You’re a shit cook,” he says. 

It’s true, and on another day, a brighter day maybe, you would’ve laughed. Or at least smiled. Because it was true. You are an awful cook, a shit one, as he so eloquently put it, especially compared to him. But that never mattered to Katsuki before. 

He always let you cook with him, always wanted you to cook with him, even if the majority of the time you ended up sitting on the counter swinging your legs and watching him do all the work. 

To be fair, afterward, you always cleaned the dishes. It was a lovely, simplistic give and take, one you wish you had again so, so dearly. 

“Yeah, I am,” you agree. You try to smile, but it feels forced. You’re tired, you realize, bone tired. 

You don’t say anything else and he turns away. You know that’s technically a dismissal but you elect to ignore and start unwrapping the vegetables. 

Just as you reach for a knife he grabs your wrist. 

“What the fuck is up with you right now?” he grounds out. 

“I just want to spend some time with you.” 

Your voice sounds frail, even to your own ears. 

And before he even opens his mouth you know what he’s about to say is going to bring all this to a head. And from the look on his face and the awful, gnawing in your gut, you know you’re not going to like it. You know that more likely than not, it’s going to break your heart. 

(A part of you can’t help but wonder if maybe your heart has already been broken. That it’s made up of haphazardly glued together pieces. Perhaps that’s why you feel so fragile. Perhaps the damage is done and you’ve just been waiting for Katsu to bring down the axe. To scatter the pieces. To finish the fucking job.)

“God,” he spits out. And it’s like a dam has been broken and every hateful thing he’s ever thought about you can’t help but come pouring out.  

“You’re so fucking needy, you can’t do a fucking thing by yourself. It’s like all you ever do is breathe down my fucking neck and tell me everything I’m not doing for you.” Distantly, you wonder if that’s true. It might be. Maybe it’s that ugly selfishness you’ve never really been able to hide. You thought you’d done a better job of tucking it away. You were wrong, it seems. 

“So I can’t spend every single fucking second of every single day with you, sue me. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, my own problems, or have you forgotten that I have a life outside of you?”

No, you think. I haven’t. Or maybe you have. You’re not really focusing so hard on his words. You tune them out as much as you can. You’re staring at his face, taking in all the details. The deep red of his eyes, the pale blond of his hair, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the slope of his neck, the little scars peppering his face. You used to sit on his lap and kiss each and every one, no matter how faint. 

You’re so weird, he’d say as you did it, but the tightness of his arms around you always spoke a different story. 

You’re going to miss that, you think. Holding him. Loving him. 

It takes you a while to realize he’s still yelling. It’s all hateful and cruel and so sharp. Like he’s taken a knife to your skin to flay you open, exposing every crack, every vein, every shattered piece of heart that makes you. You let it wash over you, like a particularly violent ocean wave.  

“Sometimes,” he says, his voice finally quieting to a bearable level, “I wonder why I’m still with you.” 

The breath you let out is shaky. No matter how ready you thought you were, there’s simply no amount of time that prepares you to hear those words from him. From the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. From the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. 

The silence between you two is deafening. And heavy. So heavy it feels as though your chest will cave in from the pressure. 

“Yeah,” you say at last, though you have to force the words around the burning iron poker in your throat. And then you laugh, you can’t help it. It’s all so fucked. You hate that it’s come to this bitter monstrous ugliness. 

When had this all started to fester, to rot? you wonder. Is this really all that’s left?

“I can’t help but wonder the same thing.” It comes out more bitter than you'd like. A small jab to try to even out the gaping wound he’s torn open in you. 

But it’s also true. 

You can’t see his reaction through the tears clouding your vision. You don’t really want to anyway. What’s done is done. What’s said is said. 

You grab your phone and keys and walk through the front door, closing it softly behind you. 

He doesn’t say a word.

You think if there was any part of your heart left unbroken, his silence has shattered it to oblivion. 

+

You walk for an hour or two. Until the sun has dipped almost completely below the horizon and it’s surrounded by hazy blood-red waves. 

It’s a good place to think. To set your jumbled thoughts in order. 

It takes a special kind of selflessness to love a hero, you realize. A type you don’t possess, not even nearly. You’ve always been just a little selfish when it came to love. But there’s no room for that when with people like Bakugou Katsuki. 

And that’s okay, you tell yourself. 

It’s a lie. It’s not okay. And the hollow aching in your chest that beats in time with your heart agrees. 

You look down at your phone. 

33 missed calls from Katsu 

You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe. 

It’s not long before you’re biting the inside of your cheek, turning on your heels, and heading home. 

+

You don’t even have your keys fully out of your pocket before the door swings open, with Katuski on the other side looking a bit worse for wear, though you doubt you’re one to talk. 

His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is a bit pink. He’s been crying. You can’t remember the last time you saw him cry. 

(That’s a lie, you realize. You had gotten in the crosshairs of a particularly brutal villain versus hero showdown. The resulting injuries you suffered were severe. You’d apparently been a bit touch and go for a while. When you opened your eyes for the first time after everything, Katsu was right there, looking like hadn’t slept, showered, or eaten for days. Later you found out it’s because he hadn’t left your bedside since you returned from surgery. 

Katsu, you’d croaked out weakly, stretching out a shaking hand toward his face. 

He broke down into sobs so violent they wracked his whole body. It took him over an hour to calm down.)

You got about half a foot through the door before he threw himself at you. Wrapping his arms around you so tight it bordered on painful. He sinks down to the floor. You sink with him. 

He’s sobbing into your shoulder repeating a mantra of, I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean it. Please, please. I didn’t mean it. 

You think about that old saying. What a person says in anger is how they really feel. You don’t necessarily believe that. You yourself have said things out of anger that you in no way meant, that were purely thrown to hurt the person on the other end. 

You want to believe he didn’t mean it, more than anything you do. Because you love him. Because you really do think that Katsu is it for you. That he’s always been it for you. 

You pull away about as far as he’ll let you. 

“Do you love me, Katsuki?” 

The words hang in the air. You feel raw. Like you’re the one who has taken a knife to your own skin and flayed it all open for him. 

You don’t quite know vulnerability until you ask someone if they love you. It’s a different sort of weakness. 

“Yes,” he responds. His voice rough from his tears. “More than anything.”

You watch one last tear fall from his eye.

You hold his face in your hands and wipe it away. Softly. Gently. Lovingly. 

+

You guys are not okay and now that you’ve accepted that you think there’s a chance that one day, you will be. 

[danielxricciardo]

for the song prompt list #38 with max please 🥺

Summary: One sided love with Max Verstappen

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word count: 2.7k

38. “You wouldn’t know love if it crushed your fucking chest.”

One-sided love is like waiting for something that is never going to happen. It is like looking into those eyes that will never look back into yours. It is like having someone in your heart but not in your arms. It is suffocating. It starts eating you from inside.

It starts from the moment you meet them. The eye contact that chills your spine, the butterflies somersaulting in your stomach, just the mere thought of them sends goosebumps all over your skin. Your eyes wander and you can't concentrate whenever they're around; despite feeling a little embarrassed for approaching them, you do so anyway and exchange numbers in the hope that at least a friendship will develop. I mean, they're cool, you're cool, you should hang out or something. Or whatever.

It becomes harder to remain nonchalant. Your moderate interest in this person turns into the non-stop checking of your phone to see if they've contacted you... absolute elation when they do, and utter, utter despair when they don't. But you keep telling yourself that it's cool, you don't even know them that well, and they probably don't even want to know you (otherwise they would be making an effort by now, right?).

They text you something vague and impersonal every once in a while, and this is enough to send your heart soaring into the sky. You respond straight away, and they don't. And as this continues, your self-esteem begins to drop, and you question everything.

Why aren't they contacting me? I expect they're just busy. Or is it me? Are three texts in a row too much? I don't wanna seem stalkerish... but I don't want to look like I don't care about them. Am I too fat? Would they prefer me if I lost weight, or had a car, or my own place? Probably. Why am I thinking about them? They'd never think about me like this.

It hurts, from the pit of your stomach to the backs of your eyes. You can't concentrate on anything. You forego activities with friends and family, to keep yourself available for this person just in case they want to meet up with you. You feel sick every day, your appetite drops, your enthusiasm for everything decreases, and you are left with the most bitter, raging emptiness you've ever felt in your whole life. And it's all your fault.

Despite the pain it causes you, you carry on quietly pursuing this person. You silently scream to yourself 'THEY'RE OUT OF MY LEAGUE! THEY WILL NEVER EVER WANT TO BE WITH ME! DON'T THINK ABOUT THEM!' but it's so overwhelming to hear yourself saying it that you try and ignore the voice of reason inside your head. Because right now, your heart is taking control, and there's nothing you can do about it.

You wish they were a part of you, that they could give you a chance, to let you be the best partner that you could possibly be. You wish you could hold them, and talk to them, and kiss them, and sleep beside them, and protect them... but you can't.

The reason you put yourself through all this pain, is a simple fact that you love this person so, so much. And even though the rational side of you is telling you to give up, a small, pathetic part of you says 'They might care about you one day...'

It hurts. Hurts real bad.

True Love doesn’t hurt. Expectations, possessiveness, insecurity, jealousy, and emotions do.

Memories don't hurt. Love doesn't hurt. It is the attachment that hurts. It is the expectation that hurts. It is the imagined future that is now broken that hurts.

Unrequited love hurts the most. You will love someone no matter what they have done to you and that someone may not love you back no matter what you do. That hurts. Those expectations hurt.

To love is always selfless and that feeling is always unconditional. Love is always unconditional. It may sting seeing him with someone else, but you will be happy for him for their happiness is more important to you when you truly love them.

When we lose someone that we love so truly and they walk out of your life for some reason, it hurts. This doesn't mean memories will haunt us. It is the collapsed future that hurts us. Living in the past with the ones we love brings us tears, not because that is lost, but because there was something that could have been forever, but it isn't now. That hurts. That stings and we tend to associate it with good memories. Sometimes we love people more than the memories they gave us. We fall for the person, not just for the memories. We love, we live life to create beautiful memories for us and the loved ones around us.

Expectations hurt in proportion to the emotional investment. Whenever we are too much attached to someone or something, we grow attachment and that attachment leads to expectations. These expectations when fulfilled are an awesome experience. But when we are too much emotionally invested and when those dreams aren't coming true, it stings and hurts and kills from within.

Getting over it is by forgiving and moving on with life accepting that you will never get over that true love. Forgiveness is your trait. It solely depends on you and not on the other person. You want to forgive them because you want peace of mind and don't want to hold grudges against anyone in your life.

Feelings and emotions are real. If you truly love a person, you will love them forever, even though they can't see you that way. That's why love is always unconditional. You love that person because you want to, not because you have that hope that someday he will love you back. If you just hope for being loved back, that's not love, to begin with, it is just some business deal. You love him because your feelings for him are real, deep, and true.

You met Max a long time ago. You were both in Formula 3 in 2014 and got along really well. You started to see each other outside of racing and after a while, you could call yourself friends. But you had feelings for him. Even before you get to know each other properly. You tried so hard to show him that you were interested in him, but nothing. Either he was oblivious or he was not interested in you. Either way, you were hurt, and that was seen in the way you competed. You lost your ambition, there were some days when you cried before the race because you didn't feel able to compete, and Max had no idea you were feeling that way because you wouldn't let him see you when you were at your lowest point.

You gave up racing and Max ended up competing in Formula 1. You weren't jealous of him, you knew you never had a chance to get there, but he deserved it, and all the hard work he put in helped him. You were with him, you encouraged him every time, on the phone, if you could not travel, or in person when he asked you to be with him.

'I need my best friend, Y/N, please. Can you come to the race on the weekend?'

And no matter how much it hurt you to hear that he considered you just his best friend, you wouldn't let your tears fall on your cheeks and tell him you'd be there for the weekend. Every time. It doesn't matter that you had something else planned, you never refused him.

"Oh my God, thank you so much for coming!" you heard Max. You look up and see your best friend coming towards you, ready to hug you. You instantly smiled. No matter how you would feel when you see him you can't help but smile.

"Of course I came. I wouldn't be anywhere else," you say and you are taken by surprise by the sincerity with which you uttered those words.

He takes you to meet some people and you were happy because he seemed well, he seemed delighted with his place there.

"Do you miss it?" you heard Daniel asking you, but you had no idea what he was talking about. "The racing," he continued as if he had read your thoughts and knew you had no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh," you shrug nonchalantly. "I mean, yeah, sometimes, but it's fine."

"Is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Clearly your mind is somewhere else. I thought it was because you were here and that brought back some racing memories, but it's different, isn't it?"

"Okay, Daniel, I appreciate the free therapy session, but I'm fine, seriously. I'm just happy to be here to encourage Max."

"Talking about me? Man, I'm feeling like a superstar," your best friend says coming between you. "I don't know about you guys but I want to get drunk."

"Are you even allowed to get drunk? It's Wednesday, don't you have press conferences tomorrow?"

"I'm in!" Daniel says and you roll your eyes. Of course he is.

Getting drunk with two boys you swear have ADHD was not a good idea.

Technically speaking, you weren't drunk, you drank a bottle of beer all night so you could take care of the two boys. Drunk Daniel was ok. He was not very agitated, he was even calmer than usual. He was sitting on the couch, laughing louder than usual, but it wasn't a cause of concern for you. Max on the other hand was a different story. Being drunk, he seemed very attracted to the balcony and that stressed you a lot. You tried to explain to him that it is dangerous on the balcony and that it is much more fun inside. You hardly convinced him.

"You're not funny at all, Y/N!"

"I'd rather know you're alive, Max."

Daniel went to bed at about 11:30 PM, but Max showed no signs of being tired. No matter how much you told him about tomorrow's busy schedule, he didn't seem to care.

You were lying on the couch, staring at the TV, and Max was on the floor, quietly for once. You wanted to ask him if he was feeling well, but he spoke before you could say something.

"Do you believe in love?"

Those five words knocked the air out of your lungs. Love? What made him ask you about love?

"Yes, I do," you answer and hope that he'll be satisfied with what you said.

"What is love anyway?"

"That depends, Max. Love is different for everybody."

"Well," he said and turns to look at you. "What is love for you?"

You sighed. What was love for you? Max. But you can't say that.

"Love is a broad term, Max. It can have different meanings for different people and can vary according to the context. At times love is synonymous with respect. At others, it is all about caring and sharing. At still others, it is a trail of concern, affection, and connection."

You didn't know you started to cry until Max kindly wiped off the tears on your face. Who would have thought that talking about love in front of the person you loved the most in this world would have made you cry? You whisper a 'thank you' to Max and get up to take a napkin from the kitchen.

"We're best friends, right?" you hear him coming towards you and he sits down on the kitchen chair.

"Sure," you answer, wiping away your tears.

"What you described. About love... I think I feel that for someone."

You heard something break and you were sure it was your heart. What you felt in that moment was what? Jealousy? This is human behavior. We, people, have the tendency to imagine ourselves with the person on whom we develop our crush. And this is totally normal, everyone does that.

Initially, it's all roses and unicorns. We start to imagine how our life would be with the other person, how we would treat them, what gifts we would give them, how we will take their pain away and how we will happily live after.

But life doesn’t work how we want it to work, does it? Then comes the second phase where we start to realize the differences between you and your crush, but still we hold on to it because in our minds that person is just too perfect to be wrong.

And then comes the thirds phase where we see our crush getting into a relationship with someone else. We even think that our crush doesn’t deserve that person, my crush deserves me! I’m better than that person. But that’s how it works, things fall apart. They break. That’s life. And at that moment, it broke your heart and you knew you want to know nothing about that other person. But you were hurt. He was drunk, yes, but you still had a crush on him, even if your feelings for him couldn't be reciprocal.

"That's... That's great, Max," you bit your lip to stop your tears from falling. "Let's go to bed."

"I think I always loved this girl but I never told her. Maybe I should," he giggles and you feel your blood boiling in your veins.

“You wouldn’t know love if it crushed your fucking chest,” you yell at him and you were sure Daniel was now wide awake. Max was watching you with wide eyes. "Stop talking about things you have no idea about," you shoot a glance at the clock. 12:25 AM. Looks like a lovely time to go for a walk in a foreign country you've never been to before. You collect your phone and wallet and march to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need fresh air. Go to bed."

"I'm coming with you, Y/N!"

You opened the door and left, not letting Max come after you. You started to run and in front of the hotel, you stopped. Where to now? You have no idea where you are or what is near the hotel, and you desperately needed to put some distance between you and Max.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Running like that? Are you crazy?" you hear a pissed Max behind you. You tried to wipe the tears in a desperate attempt to look like you haven't been bawling your eyes out. "What happened inside?"

"Nothing, Max."

"Let's talk about it. Please."

"Talk about it? Fine. Let's do it! What should I start with? The fact that I've had a crush on you for three years or should I give you some love advice for the girl you like?"

"Say that one more time," Max said, walking towards you.

"Say what one more time?"

"You liked me for the past three years?" he was now in front of you, feeling his hot breaths on your face, and you could smell the alcohol.

"That is not relevant."

"Why not? I should know if someone has feelings for me, no? At least that's what I deserve, I think."

"Stop being so fucking cocky, Verstappen. This is not a joke," you puffed. "Forget I said a damn thing," you started to walk back into the hotel.

"Well, if I have to forget what you said that means I'm not allowed to tell you that I've liked you too for the past three years, right?"

You stoped. He said what? You were dreaming. Maybe you were the one that drank a lot. You were drunk, that's the reason why you just heard Max confessing his feelings for you. Or maybe you were both drunk.

"Max, let's go to bed. You've had a lot to drink, maybe we'll talk in the morning if you remember anything."

He came to you and hugged you from behind.

"I know what I said. Sure, I've had a few beers to drink, but I know that what I'm telling you now it's the truth."

[football-writing]

Jack Grealish - figure it out

"Please don't do this." Her voice was trembling, her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at the guy in front of her.

"Y/N, don't make this harder than it is. Please." He ushered her to calm down, a painful expression on his face as he saw how much he hurt her.

"If it's so hard, why do you have to break up with me? We can just stay together, right? Don't do this to me Jack."

She took a step closer as she tried to convince him, reaching out her hands to hold his, a pleading look in her tear-filled eyes. But Jack had already made up his mind. It wasn't like there had been any real problems, or some sort of breaking point. Hell, he is still head over heels for her, too. But seeing as the tabloids had it in for him, and how he was moving away to Manchester, he figured it would be best to end it here. For her sake. She had always been insecure, and dating a footballer that lived 90 miles away wasn't going to make her feel any better.

"Please don't do this." She whispered again as she finally broke down completely, her sobs echoing through the room as she fought to breath. Jack reached out to hold her steady, his hands on her upper back, tracing figures with his fingertips in hopes of soothing her heartbreak even the slightest bit. He kissed the top of her head as she struggled to break free from his grasp, her balled up fists hitting his chest repeatedly as she cried out about how much she hated him for doing this to her, but he caught her hands in his with ease. A whispered plead for her to stop being all it took for her to give in and let him comfort her for the final time. Maybe he had broken her heart now, but her heartbreak would be much worse if tabloids and fans and the distance between them got to her. He could manage if he was hated for his move to City, but if she came to be subject of their harassment? It would kill him.

"It's for the best, Y/N. I'm sorry." He spoke softly as he broke their embrace. However, her grip on him tightened, not letting go as they looked into each other's eyes, a yearning present in both pairs to give in, a desire so strong it made their skin feel ablaze; to touch, feel each other's skin, burn with passion for the other, even now. Especially now.

And she kissed him. Stood up on her tippy toes and reached for the back of his head to pull him down, lips hungry and desperate as they molded together, fear and sorrow evident as they moved against each other. The taste of her tears now on his tongue, and for a second he wondered if this was all worth it.

But he knew in the back of his mind that it was. So when they finally parted, her eyes pleading him to stay, he apologised one more time before he left her standing there to pick up the pieces on her own.

- Hindsight didn't help her one bit. -

She had tried to get over him, she really had. Even if she didn't run into him around town, she couldn't possibly move on when everything she did reminded her of him. The mug with a faded picture of the two of them that he always used to drink his tea out of staring at her everytime she opened her cabinets, his aftershave that smelled like home to her still in her bathroom. Even as she put a pizza in her oven, she was reminded of the time he burned his arm when trying to make pizza on their date night. How she had ended up rubbing butter on his arm because he had read on reddit that it would relieve the pain, both laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. How her laughter had died down in her throat as he had grabbed the backs of her thighs to lift her up on the counter top, making out until that forgotten pizza had turned cold again.

His move to Manchester hadn't exactly made her thoughts disappear. He was everywhere: she couldn't open twitter or there was more news about him, the papers displaying his face on their front covers with his record breaking deal. Yet she also saw how fans targeted him for his move to City.

And it pained her to realise that she understood. Why he broke up with her. The fans would no doubt have targeted her, too, and throughout their relationship they had always been clear on her not giving up anything for his career - clearly that included not moving away from the place that she had grown to call home.

But god did it kill her to know that she wouldn't be able to be there for him. With him. She knew he had meant to think of her, but instead he had thought for her- breaking up with her for her own good without letting her weigh in on that decision. That was the hardest part for her. Anyone would understand if she was angry and upset at him. And maybe she was. But she still loved him, and his act only proved that he loved her too, even if the way it showed wasn't the outcome she wished for.

- It was how she came to be in her current situation. -

With Jack on her couch at 5am. Their eyes darting over the other curiously, filled with desire, only to turn away like a deer caught in headlights as soon as they made eye contact. Their relationship thus far had been natural, easy. But nothing about this was easy. How was she to respond to him being here after all those weeks?

"You're probably wondering why I'm here." He had begun for her.

"Clearly." Her tone was more bitter than she had meant.

"I couldn't sleep."

She figured he'd say something else, explain why that was a reason to come back to her, but he kept quiet instead, his eyes focused on his fidgeting hands.

"So you drove the 90 miles back here?"

"Yeah. Look, I just-" He looked up then, finally making eyecontact while biting the inside of his cheek nervously. He looked like it scared him, too, to finally look into her eyes again. Seeing her face for the first time after leaving her when he broke up with her. Perhaps he expected her to look happy, brighter, while she had been without him. But to his surprise her eyes were dull, bags under them from the lack of sleep, her lips chapped; he knew it was from picking at them, something she did when she was upset. She was just as tired as he was.

"I miss you. And I know I have no right to say it, Y/N. I really don't. But you know why, yeah? I had to."

"You could've told me." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it sounded no where near as confident as she usually was.

"I know. I'm sorry baby." Guilt was written over his face as he apologised. The nickname felt familiar as it reached her ears, and she inhaled deeply at how inviting it sounded.

"Look- I just couldn't sleep. If we drive back now we still have maybe three hours to catch up on-"

Hold on, you- you want me to come with you?" She interrupted him, her eyes wide with incredulity at his request.

"Would you? You know I sleep best with you next to me." His statement was so softspoken and honest, it made her heart flutter.

She nodded apprehensively.

But she knew what it meant: they would figure it out. They would be okay, together.