#mentions of slight depression tw

[the-softest-love-is-ours]

hiiii huiii hiiii!!!! how are you!! how have you been bunny!!

(@arsene-fixates)

Hey, missed you! I’ve been doing good lately! I’m so sorry for the disappearance for a while, but I’m doing better now and am excited to be back! I’ve missed you and everyone here.

I am going to give a little more explanation for the disappearance under the cut, but it does have a bit of mental health talk so that’s why it’s under the cut.

So, unfortunately, I have depression and ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). I’m not great at taking my medication, even though it works amazingly for me for the most part (medication can’t take it all away, but it does help a lot), I attribute this to my pretty bad forgetfulness. Essentially, the easiest way to explain it, is that it was a combination of worsening depression and losing my hyperfixation on this blog. My ADD works in a way that I hyperfixate on things and it’s hard to focus on things without fixating on it, and my interests also go in cycles so the fixations come and go and come back.

That’s really the only way I know how to explain it, but thank you everyone, for being understanding.

[suicidal-idol69420]

okokok hear me out but what if I just vanished into the woods never to be seen again? Like I'm not dead necessarily but I'm not longer societies problem. Also no one can tell me not to get blasted

[mapleleavesart]

I have so much I want to do but so little time/energy/motivation etc

Like. I'm too depressed for this lemme just have my one or two hobbies 😭

[hazardsofspikesandnevadeans]

[ Been havin' a tough day mentally to the point I didn't even go to work. I do have a lot of drafts to do so don't ya worry, I didn't forgit about all ya all. My mind just wouldn't let me do anythin'.

I dunno if it was just a massive depression hike or what but I'll see ya all tomorrow after work, or durin' my breaks if my mind will let me along with my co-workin' buddies.

Remember, this lizard loves ya all and take it easy. ]

[deadghosy]

I didn't know we could request readers getting hurt. In that case can I request the hotels cast reaction to dogday reader getting the game dogday treatment as an exterminator cuts them in half. Like game dogday they're still alive but ouchy

TW: GORE AND BLOOD MENTIONS (not detailed but it’s there)

HAZBIN HOTEL X DOGDAY! READER

prompt: during the fight against the Angels, you let your guard down at the wrong moment…..

You used your 8ft frame and to slap and crush the angels as Angel dust shoots the angel from your shoulder as husk throw explosive dice and sharp spade cards around you three. It was a good them effort as you had his stomped out an Angel with your huge paw. You were helping the hotel defend against the angels as you never saw this actually coming.

You heard a whimper seeing one of the egg boiz be chased by an angel as you ran over and crushed the angel’s head in your paw that had angelic metal in it. The egg boi immediately cuddled up to you as you picked it up.

You must have been so worried that you didn’t noticed an angel behind you and the egg. But it was too late as the egg boi’s eyes widen seeing an exterminator behind the two of you.

You felt a stab in your abdomen as you looked down to see an angelic spear stab you. You felt blood trickle down your mouth as it burned inside of you.

A piercing scream rang out the battle field as you felt you lose the strength seeing blood pour out. Your friends perk up at that knowing scream of yours. Charlie looks down from the roof with her father to see what was going on. She gasped covering her mouth lookin at you. The angel takes the spear out of you as she slashes your body in half.

Your upper and lower body collided to the ground and blood spill from your mouth hearing foot steps and an evil laughter as you heard someone’s voice. “DONT WORRY! WE’RE COMING SUNNY!” It was all muffled due to the blood loss as you couldn’t hear who it even was.

Blood filled your nose, screams, the feeling of blood loss, and the sounds of bombs blowing up. It all rang in your ears as the last thing you see is the angel who cut you being shot. Before you passed out.

You wake up seeing the crew look down relieved but some had a disturbed face as you tried to move your “legs”…..

Your legs….wait….

You look down to see your bottom half to be gone only to se a bandaged half. Your eyes widen shaking as the white pupils of your eyes disappear. You sob painfully looking down as your dog ears over your face. Charlie covers her mouth seeing your sadness at the lost of your legs as she hugs you .

Angel and husk joins as well as the other as they all crowed you trying to show that they are here for you. You felt loved, but what will you do now…….

Months has passed and you are in a wheel chair. At the loss of your legs, it’s like you became a new person who doesn’t smile much but still grant a smile towards a friend who needs one. You have the slight scent of vanilla but mixed with blood due to the blood in your body at times. Your voice also had changed as the scream you let out ruined your normal vocal cord. So now you sound a little depressed.

But still Charlie helps you to walk with you using your arms. You got the hang of it quickly but you’re use to the wheelchair since it doesn’t take your energy away.

Angel helps you move around in your wheel chair as he makes joke with you as you smile or with either grumble jokingly at his dirty jokes.

Lucifer, he’s trying to find a way to heal you as he feels like he failed to protect you. One of his own people. Even his own friend that he felt like you were as you always was friendly to other and him.

Alastor lets you sleep in your wheel chair as he plays soft jazz in your room or if you want to listen to his radio broadcast

Husk still snuggles again you but not like a cat in your lap type snuggle. Nah he just lays down with you on the couch as you snore while he purrs.

Niffty decorated your wheel chair to your liking as she smiles seeing your grateful smile as she hugs your fluffy arm.

[tiredsadpeach]

I’m so lost lol

[alixmarauders]

Why try? | poly! marauders x fem! reader

tag: @staarflowerr @mooonyxoxo @liviessun

fluff / slight angst if you close an eye

word count: 1.5k

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three , chapter 4 will be coming soon

CW: negative self talk, cursing

TW: mention of skipping meals!!! Be safe please bestie 🩷

It’s been a couple of days.

A couple of days of you hiding in your dorm room because you just can’t bring yourself to talk to them. The worst thing is that you can’t even talk about it, because nobody knows that you’ve been dating them.

So your roommates just think you’re going through some type of depression.

Thankfully, being the weekend, you don’t have any lesson to go to, so you can just stay in bed and cry all you want.

You don’t even know why you’re making such a big deal out of a single comment, you are painfully aware that you can’t even fight over this small thing, but it still hurts.

That single comment brought out your first two years in Hogwarts, when nobody really was looking forward to become your friend, when you felt like a wallflower in every social setting, when you felt like somebody to be tolerated, not somebody to be loved.

The problem is, you haven’t eaten in two days, and even though you aren’t necessarily hungry, you know that you’ll have to have breakfast on Monday. You aren’t even sleeping well, this mix isn’t really helping your mood, nor the headache that doesn’t seem to pass. You just hope you’ll feel better tomorrow morning.

“Sirius you can’t just barge into her room, for God’s sake” James was sitting on his bed, head in his hands.

“Yeah, Prongs here is right. We aren’t even here boyfriends”

“So what? We’re gonna ignore the fact that she hasn’t been eating for two days straight and pretend that she is fine? Because she is not, I’m telling you. Remus you told us that she seemed strange in the library, yes?” Sirius was pacing anxiously back and forth in their dorm room. He just couldn’t understand why you had been in your room for two days straight, they thought they should have given you some space, but it was getting ridiculous, and Sirius hated space, he wanted you here with his two boyfriends.

Remus shook his head “Maybe she has been eating? How do you know she hasn’t left her dorm room?”

Sirius blushed “I may or may not have checked the map every five minutes since Friday night, and I wanted to remind you that she hasn’t eaten a thing even then! Herbology my ass, you don’t get that upset over herbology! She’s a little genius, I don’t think she has ever struggled since the first year, I won’t believe she is struggling with some stupid plants”.

James and Remus shared a look. Sirius didn’t usually care that much about anyone apart from them. They suddenly realised that they couldn’t loose you, not when Sirius was already going through so much with his family, he would simply break.

“You’re right Sirius. If you’ve checked, she has to eat. It’s a miracle she hasn’t fainted yet”

“Tomorrow morning. We have potions together, right? We’re gonna talk to her, and we’re gonna fix… whatever this is.”

Except you didn’t make it to potions. You were late, the night before you’re brain just shut down, and you woke up on Monday evening, skipping a day of class and, most importantly, three meals. This unplanned fast was getting ridiculous, even to your own eyes.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N” Emmeline was trying to wake you up. “I brought you some food. I don’t know why you’re so upset, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need to talk to someone, or if you just want somebody to be there for you.”

You sighed. She was the only friend that stuck with you since the first year, and she was an angel; always there for you, always ready to listen and give advice, but you just couldn’t manage to talk about what was going on in your head.

“Thanks Em” You smiled, then she exited the room, and you looked at the plate. You ate something, but you were just too exhausted to finish everything.

You didn’t actually go to class since Thursday.

Truth is, you felt like a coward. You didn’t want to face the boys, too afraid of what they would think of you, of what they would say to you, and every day it got worse. You knew that they thought you were avoiding them, and you weren’t even sure why you were doing so, but every time you tried to get up and go outside, you just couldn’t.

Each day, Em would bring you something to eat, you just took a bite of everything, not really finishing the food you were given. Everyday, Em would tell you about how the marauders were looking differently, and how they stared at them throughout the meals, and you really felt guilty.

So, even though you skipped breakfast, having woken up late, you decided to go to class and to talk to the guys, at least to try to. You didn’t want to end something that didn’t even have the chance to start just because you were overthinking.

You were walking to the Great Hall when all of the sudden your vision became blurry, Em was telling you something about the upcoming herbology test, when every sound became sort of muffled, and your head suddenly felt so heavy, and now your legs weren’t cooperating anymore, and then you just fainted.

The marauders, which were catching up to you in the corridors, saw you falling to the ground, and suddenly they didn’t give a fuck about your brother anymore. He wasn’t there to help you anyways.

“Y/N!” Sirius rushed to you, Em staring at him with wide eyes.

Remus was quick to raise your legs in the air, while Sirius promptly made sure that the position wasn’t suddenly flashing the whole student body, while making sure you were smelling his strong cologne, putting your wrist under your nose. James was running to Madam Pomfrey.

Little by little, you started to gain consciousness. You didn’t make sense of the situation at first, so you just nuzzled into Sirius touch.

“Love, have I ever told you that I love your cologne? It smells really great, I want to bathe in it” You looked up at him dreamily. He chuckled.

“Well, sweetheart, thank you. You could have told me so without having to faint, giving me an heart attack.”

And then you realised the position in which you were in. You were in the middle of the corridor.

The students were all looking at you.

Em and Aurora were looking really funny, Em with her eyes open wide, Aurora practically fuming.

But Remus didn’t give you the time to think about this, hauling you in his shoulder and rushing to the infirmary.

They hauled you on a hospital bed, James and Poppy waiting for you.

“Well, what happened?” You tried to speak, but the boys didn’t let you.

“She fainted in the middle of the corridor. She hasn’t been eating for five days” You looked down, embarrassed. How did they know?

“I actually did eat a little” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I think we have a diagnosis. You’re a smart girl, you should know better than to starve yourself. If you feel like it, I think you should go have lunch. I don’t think we have to conduct further examinations, if you don’t have anything else to tell me?”

You shook your head.

“Is it okay if I carry you, darling?” James looked down at you softly. You blushed, nodding.

So he carried you, and you made your grand entrance: James carried you in his arms bridal style, Remus and Sirius walking at your sides. You could hear the students gasping, a buzz suddenly starting to raise in the common room.

The boys ignored it, sitting you next to them, their friends eager to get to know you.

“So you are the famous Y/N!” Peter was smiling at you, you blushed.

“How do” You cleared your voice. “How do you know my name?”

The boys and their friends started laughing. “How could we not know your name? They’re talking about you 24/7!”

“You should have seen Sirius this weekend, he was so tense that we barely could stop him from lashing out on a poor first year” Lily was smiling, you looked over at Sirius, who was feigning ignorance.

Remus filled your plate with mashed potatoes, some kind of meat, lots and lots of veggies and definitely too much bread.

“Eat. First you eat, then you talk. Please?” You nodded, feeling slightly ashamed, he looked really concerned, they all did.

“So anyways, how did you guys meet? And, most importantly, how come an angel like you got herself tangled up with them”

James shoved lightly Regulus, who was grinning, while you nearly choked on your food.

“Leave the poor girl alone, will you? You already know everything about how they met her, her eyes were sparkling in the sun and she had this-“ At this, they all said in unison “pink sundress flowing lightly and her hair were put in a perfect ponytail”

You could feel your ears burning, the guys all smiling at your shyness.

[ghostie-luvs]

Yandere! Patient <3

tw: depression,, obsessive behavior, very slight mention of sh/attempt

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who had been suffering from depression ever since he was young. His parents never tried to figure out why, only sending him to all these different therapists in hopes of helping him. Of course, they cared but they were also too busy, and perhaps, that was one of the leading causes: neglect.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who never tried hurting himself or attempting but only wallowed in the emptiness of the house he grew up in, no siblings to play with, no parents to admire, only him, and a few servants.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who during highschool, got his first ever partner. Gods, he was ecstatic! I mean, the man was touch starved, attention starved, everything starved really. He really did like the person,, so much that his love developed into a sort of unhealthy love, or so people call it.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who would do anything for his new partner, go above and beyond for them..even if they didn’t like it. I mean, shouldn’t they be more appreciative of his efforts? No matter, he still loves them and will do whatever it takes for them to be happy.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ whose love only grows, progresses into a more..obsessive one. His partner always being treated with the affection he so wish he had when he was younger, with gifts, touches, anything they could ever want.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who savored the feeling of their touches, begging for more each time they pulled away, whining if you could even call it that. He needed the affection, he needed their touch and only deflated whenever he did not get what he wanted, thoughts of his childhood resurfacing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who began to become dependent to his partner, needing them for everything. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, to eat or anything without them. He needed them, desperately. He couldn’t live without them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who started to panic when his partner began to get distant. He wanted to ask why, wanted to figure out the problem, what he possibly did wrong. His partner gave him no room to even ask, breaking up with him, saying he was too much, and too clingy. What? Too..clingy?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who after the breakup, didn’t take it very well. He fell into the old friend of his that he had when he was young, finding no use of taking care of himself.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who was sent to a psychiatrist when his parents came back from abroad, noting his appearance and realizing what was happening again. He fought back, he told them that those damn people never helped him!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, the day he arrived to his supposed assigned psychiatrist, felt absolutely horrible being there and only kept to himself. He knew how it would be already. They would prescribe him medicine that didn’t even work.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, when his eyes fell on you, as you called his name and greeted him with a smile, inviting him to yours and your mentors office-you were only an assistant, only two years older than him- felt his world suddenly fill with colors. What? Soulmates don’t exist. So why was this happening and why did he feel so giddy at your welcoming smile?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who followed you into your office, making himself comfortable as you told him to sit down and tell you about himself. Why was he nervous? Either way, he did exactly what you told him and found himself getting comfortable in your presence and your smile.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who felt happy..happy in a long time at how much you’ve listened to him and treated him so nicely..just like his partner. He was excited for the next appointment, practically sulking when he had to leave, ignoring the fact that you probably prescribed him medicine on the way out, too busy with what would happen next time.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who knew he wouldn’t be taking that medicine anyway. Why would he when he found that you were good enough, that you were the cure?

a/n: ahhh another character <3 please point out any mistakes or any constructive criticism is welcomed!! Reblogs are very much appreciated!!

please note that I am not a professional/ expert in the field of mental illnesses and reach out to one if you ever feel symptoms relating to depression or s! thoughts.

more of my works :)

[blingblong55]

Bigger than the whole sky- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Photo credits: @ave661

Based on a request:

HI SO I READ YOUR RECENT NO JUDGEMENT AND ITS AWESOME AND INCREDIBLY WHOLESOME BTW BUT PLEASE CAN YOU MAKE IT ANGST??!?!?????? LIKE LIKE HEAR ME OUT. YOU GOT PREGGO WITH ANOTHER BEBE AND A MISCARRIAGE HAPPENS, YOU THINK ITS ALL YOUR FAULT AND IDK FALLS INTO SLIGHT DEPRESSION AND STUFF LIKE THAT IDK I JUST WANT ANGST <333333333 ---- F!Reader, pregnant!reader, husband!simon, TW! Mentions of miscarriage, dad!ghost ---- A/N: I love this idea and major TW!

It was a dream all over again, the excitement to have yet another little one in the place Simon and you call home. You are around three months along. Your soon-to-be oldest child kisses your soft belly. Simon chuckles, "I think we know who the favourite relative will be." A smile appears on you. This is all too perfect.

"Alright lovie, we'll let you go and decorate. You need us, we'll be playing outside," he kisses your forehead. The puppy, kid and Simon all race to the backyard. Giggles and barks follow along and you make your merry way to the nursery.

As Simon is running around the backyard with the kid and the puppy, you feel cramps. The pain is more intense and it's of concern.

As you rush to the bathroom, you feel it. Warm, thick liquid runs down your thighs and to the ground. In a hurry, you call out for Simon, who in a rush, carries your child with him to the room. "Lovie?!" His voice filled with panic and once he saw the blood, his heart nearly stopped. Tears run down your face.

"Oh god lovie," he says with a frown. With strength, he picks you up with his free arm, your child in the other and he rushes to the car.

The way to the emergency room was filled with tears, panic and a lot of reassurance.

Nurses wheel you in, Simon and your child fight to stay with you but the doctors don't let them. A nurse stays with him. She begins to try and get their minds off you for a second and as hard as it seems, it is the only thing she can do.

While this worked with his kid, it didn't for him. "Just, be careful with her, she's pregnant and we need her in our lives." He says between silent tears. "I can reassure you the doctors are doing all they can to help your wife."

Nearly an hour into being under the care of doctors and staff, they let Simon and your kid in.

The room is thick in silence and fear.

"Lovie, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," you cry. There is shame in you. Guilt and utter disgust for yourself fills you.

"Sorry for what?" He says almost unaware of the situation.

"Mummy?"

"I'm so sorry, Tommy," you cry. How can one tell their son the baby died? How can one accept this piece of their life?

There are things one can't say, things one can't feel and some things will never be.

"Lovie, tell me, what's the matter?"

"…The baby-fetus…i…I miscarried," you confess between mumbles that cover your mouth as tears fall like a waterfall. Your hand goes to the now empty belly. The fetus that would never grow now sits elsewhere as you grieve its death.

At home, the sun sets. Curtains stay open since no one is home. The nursery loses its colour with the sun. All is silent. No one is home, no one will be home for a while more.

In the pale grey room, Simon holds his son in his arms. The small child is asleep in the comfort of his father's arms. Meanwhile, Simon's stare is on you. A frown is now temporary on him. The sight in front of him is of you.

Distraught by the news, you've denied food.

Two nurses come into the room, and in their hands, a teddy named Angel. You look up. "We are so sorry for your loss, we wanted to gift you, your very own angel," the main nurse says. She hands it to you, the weight of it is comforting, you look up and give them a knowing look.

In the darkness of the night, Simon stays awake. You hold the teddy as you sleep.

"I will always love you," he whispers to the teddy and then to his son who still sleeps in his arms. "I love you more," Simon whispers once more as he kisses your forehead.

Light comes back in, the only giggle is of your son who plays with the teddy. You haven't been able to stop the tears.

What would have been? Two little kids running around, the mindless babble. The beautiful sound of a baby giggling is something you won't experience.

You and Simon haven't said much since you told him the news but he never left your side. His hand has been glued to yours for this time and as you look at him, you have this stare that begs for forgiveness. You cup his face and he nods, "I love you too," he says the words he understands you too wanted to say.

Days pass, and you lay in bed. Simon has been home, and not once has he touched his phone. He lives his days giving you all the care and love you need. His son sees him more, the car rides to school are filled with some tune and as he drives back, you find yourself back in the nursery.

The blood was now gone from the floor, all that stayed in the room was the crib and the teddy.

The walk to the room is painful, the sight of the kitchen makes you frown. All the food you craved now disgusts you. The clothes you wore to hide the bump are hidden.

Now, as you lay in bed, you believe this is some sort of punishment. The day is beautiful outside, if only that angel would be here to listen to you as you describe it.

You want to take it all back. The annoyance when your son left his toys everywhere when he was learning how to walk to different places. You want to clean the crayon marks on the wall again, you want the sleepless nights, and the silly little babbles and Simon just nodding and pretending words were said.

"I would've met you in five months…" you say to the wall. You needed something, just a second with that baby. One smile, or even for it to hear you say you love them beyond the world.

You'd give anything to have done anything right. The once colourful room now feels like it's covered in blue.

As you lay in bed, that's when you wish you'd just di- "Lovie?" Simon was back from dropping Tommy off at school. When he doesn't hear your response, he walks to you, wrapping his arms around you and then picking you up, bringing you to his lap as he lays back, your head on his chest. "Let it out, it's okay, I'm here," he whispers.

Sobs escape your lips. You cry, and in between the tears, you keep asking why.

You're not enough, are you? Losing this feels like it.

"Simon-" "Don't go there, it isn't your fault, you did everything right and maybe it just wasn't time for us to have another one but don't you dare speak about yourself like that." His voice is soft but there is some commanding tone behind it all.

Some time passes, and Simon has been home this whole time. He grieves with you, and you with him.

You finally come to terms with this and on some beautiful day, your son organises a picnic in the backyard. A blanket laid upon the grass, tea, snacks, lots of laughter and much talk greets you. For the first time since the miscarriage, you feel it, that funny feeling when all is well and your heart slowly heals.

"I love you," Your son happily says. "To the moon and back," Simon and you say back at the same time.

A/N: Tagged all those on the list...so sorry for not making a "comment to be tagged"...surprise comeback????

Tags: @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @coralwitchdreamland @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @llelannie @macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @honestlyhiswife @ikohniik @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @thegreyjoyed @marshiely

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x daughter!reader - get through this together

Could you write a dadzawa in which he has a teen daughter (she is biological) but she is depressed and maybe she was thinking abould hurting herself but Aizawa stopped her? - Anon💜

TW: mentions of attempted self harm and depression

You had never been one to talk about your emotions, your struggles, and in a way you very much took after your dad in that sense.

You had been struggling for a while, and you were great at hiding it through smiles and laughter, always keeping yourself busy whether it was with friends, school work, hobbies, or spending time with you dad, there wasn’t many occasions you were alone.

But, like now, when you were alone you were forced to sit in your own company.

Sit with your own mind, and it slowly take over, the negative thoughts, the dark and twisted thoughts that you hated thinking about slowly ran riot around your brain.

Eventually you find yourself sitting in your bathroom, clutching tightly for any shred of happy thought or positive emotion that would help light your way from the darkness as tears ran down your face.

You had been struggling for so long, looking for anything that would help you, and nothing you tried ever worked, they always came back.

So, now you sit, a small but sharp knife you had taken from the kitchen, clutching it in a white knuckle grip.

You didn’t want to scar your own skin.

You didn’t want to be the reason that you were bleeding.

You didn’t want to actually do this.

But your brain was taking you too, almost screaming at you to.

It was telling you this was the only way you would feel normal, the only thing that would make it all better, that you should just do it because nobody would notice if you did.

Slowly the dark thought began to win the silent battle you were having with yourself, and you slowly raised it to your arm with a trembling hand.

You were so confused and focused on this you weren’t paying attention to anything else around you.

Which mean you didn’t know your phone had been ringing in your room, or the fact your dad had all but come running home from where he was stood trying to call you in the shop.

You didn’t know that he had searched the entire house for you until he saw you through the slight gap in the bathroom door.

Slowly he approached, kneeing down just in front of you and he wrapped his hands around yours holding the knife.

“No…” Aizawa spoke quietly.

You slowly up and looked at him, he wore a worried look on his face, his gaze fully fixated on the knife in your hand.

“Give me the knife…” he quietly commanded.

The moment your grip loosened on it he took it and slide it behind him, and he immediately started checking you for injuries.

“You’re okay… you’re okay…” he whispered.

Aizawa wasn’t sure if he was whispering it for your sake or for his, maybe it was for both of you, but he kept repeating it as he checked your arms.

When he didn’t see any wounds or any scars, he was quickly to pull you into his arms, pressing your head to his shoulder.

“I’m here… I’ve got you…” he whispered.

Something about those words just seemed to make the dam you had built inside of you snap, you threw your arms around Aizawa, and sobbed heavily into his chest.

His heart shattered at the sound of your sobs, and he held you tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head, running a hand up and down your back trying to comfort you.

“Let it all out kiddo… I’ve got you…”

As you carried on sobbing into your dad’s chest, he shuffled a little so he could sit down, pulling you against him so he could hold you in a tight but comforting embrace.

“Whatever you’re going through… whatever’s going on… we can get through this okay? Together. Just.. just never hurt yourself… please.. please never hurt yourself…” he spoke quietly.

“I’m sorry…”

Aizawa gently shushed you, holding you a little tighter.

“It’s okay… we’ll get through this okay? When you’re ready we’ll talk about whatever’s going on, about what we can do to help.”

You gave a small nod, and Aizawa let out a small breath, making sure to keep a tight hold on you.

He was fully prepared to sit with you all night, no matter how tired he was, or how early he had to be up tomorrow, you were the most important person to him, and if you had to sit in the bathroom floor all night, then that’s what he would do

[neurologicalanguish]

pathetic and sad and depressed leon thoughts cause he’s a dumb fuckin loser who should die (i would do anything he told me) erm… this is also my first post so… bare with me

cw/tw: olderbf!leon(age gap not specified), erectile dysfunction(i know, not my fault he’s a pathetic traumatised mf…), suicidal ideation, nsfw after read more, slight misogyny, porn addiction, choking kink, reader has afab anatomy, nonchalant leon…

would definitely thrash and cry in his sleep sometimes, the amount of horror and gore he’s experienced first hand wouldn’t be taken away just cause he has a pretty thing like you to love.

i feel like he’s always so detached and constantly disassociating that whenever you try to initiate something, anything at all, he just sort of does it out of inertia, just so you can get the relief you want.

he’d be rubbing lazy circles on your clit as you cling and squirm against him, as he has you all nuzzled into his chest with his arm under your head.

but that fucker is probably thinking about something else entirely, he’s just glad you haven’t gotten sick of him yet. how you still so desperately seek his love and validation.

sex doesn’t excite him anymore, sure, he needs to stick his cock in something warm and wet from time to time, but he’s fucked so much in his youth that he doesn’t even see the appeal of it anymore. not to mention the porn addiction he had…

hours on end, just spent in front of magazines, or shitty cassette tapes, that were so old and fucking beat that he’d have to fix them himself in order to not have the whore’s moans sound like they’re from within the depths of hell because the cassette would play in slow motion.

how he’d gotten so desensitised to anything that had to do with sex, that at one point he needed to start reading erotica, just to get his dick hard. he’d just sit on the shitty mattress of the floor of the apartment he was supposed to call “home” , while watching the TV playing porn, like it was some fuckin’ game show.

so it doesn’t come as a surprise, at least to him, that with the years, he doesn’t find pleasure in sex, or anything at all really.

but when he sees such a pretty thing like you, so pathetic and constantly begging him to be pounded, guilt would just wash over him, saying to himself that “it’s the least i could do for the fuckin’ world, right?”

so again, he’d have you under him, peppering wet kisses on your neck, or choking you sometimes. how he’d wish to actually snap your fragile neck at times, it didn’t help when your skin would turn slightly pale, it was almost like it was doing something for him, but he decided to ignore it.

his aging, and the shitty way he had lived up until the time you met him, and even as he’s with you, doesn’t attenuate the fact that his “stupid fuckin’ useless cock” doesn’t even wanna work anymore. he feels so pathetic and helpless. he’d rather jump off a bridge, the sound of his body weight reverberating on cold harsh concrete, as his corpse splays out in a million fuckin’ particles as it hits the ground, leaving behind just a burgundy mess of what was once your “handsome old man” , than have to explain to you that he doesn’t wanna fuck, his dick doesn’t work.

he just tries to be grateful for what he has, at least you cook good food. he’ll keep attending to your needs, eating you out, buying you toys, fiddling with your clit, he’ll keep pretending for his “pretty girl”.

[iovetecchou]

That Funny Feeling ⧸ Dazai Osamu

༞ Contains...! !TW! this fic contains heavy topics such as: suicide, depression, anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. hurt/comfort type beat, hugging, gentle touches, hand holding, swearing, suggestive implications but NOTHING actually happened! kunikida is just silly, dazai really is a sweetheart in this ):

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 2,494 words.

a/n: if you have struggled with your own mental health past or present, just know that you are not alone. i love you and am so proud of you for still being here and pushing through each day, no matter how difficult that can be. never be afraid to rely on someone close to you when things become too much to bear, you are worthy of living and deserve to be loved.

Some people just aren't cut out for life. We are all dealt a hand, some cards interchangeable. But for the most part, they mold us; and make us who we are. They map out the rest of our lives. So what are you supposed to do when all the cards you've been handed don't play in your favor?

Even the interchangeable cards; you discard them only to pick up more rotten ones. Your judgment is poor, and your decision-making only gets you stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

You envy the people who were gifted better cards. People who were not condemned from the start. Those are the people who make something out of their lives, the ones who are deserving of taking up space.

You know this sounds self-deprecating, and yeah, it is. But to you, it's also logic. You think that's why you dislike Dazai Osamu.

When he talks so freely about death, his desire for a perfect suicide. It makes your stomach turn, not for obvious reasons, but for selfish ones. He plays off his pain as a joke so no one thinks twice about it when he asks a pretty stranger to "commit a double suicide" with him.

You try so hard to conceal your suicidal thoughts, hiding your depression behind a pretty mask. Showing up to work each day with a smile on your face and a "can do!" attitude. 

You and Dazai really are the same in that aspect, masking your pain so it's less noticeable to others around you. 

Your abdomen twists into knots when he talks so freely about suicide because it causes your mind to wander and your mask to slip. Dazai always seems to pick up on that slight change in you when it happens, too. His chestnut eyes bore holes into your profile from where he sits beside you. You can feel his eyes on you as you try to smile brighter, putting on a chipper face as Kenji updates you on how the cows on his farm are doing.

You hate it. It feels like he's reading your mind; retaining all your deepest darkest secrets. Does your face really give you away so easily? No... It can't be that. You've been working at the Detective Agency for a long while now, and since then, no one else has ever assumed something was wrong with you. 

If they only knew how pitiful your life really was. As much as you love all your colleagues at the Agency, you hate working. Waking up is exhausting, and you dread the repetitive daily routines you're forced to accomplish. On your off days, you sit at home alone- by choice. Interacting with others is draining, and when you're urged to participate in social activities, the anticipation and anxiety eat away at you until the day finally comes. 

Much like today, the day you've been letting eat away at you since the mention of a work party was brought to your attention. You practiced different smiles and laughs in the mirror, shaking your head and trying again when your "act" seemed too unnatural. You probably changed your outfit ten times before ultimately deciding on the same old thing you usually wore. 

Your hands were coated in perspiration as you balled your fingers, making a fist. You took in a shaky breath as you brought yourself to finally knock on Chief Fukuzawa's door. He welcomed you with a tight-lipped smile and a nod of his head, stepping aside to let you through. Immediately, you felt his eyes on you. Dazai watched your little performance as you greeted everyone, and when it was finally his turn to watch your act up close and personal- you froze. 

His eyes were too intimidating. You felt exposed in front of him. It irked you that he had such an effect on you. Why was it so easy to pretend with everyone else but him?

"Aww, where's my greeting?" Dazai smirked devilishly at you, raising his eyebrows slightly as he leaned in close. All-encompassing, invading your personal space. 

You remained quiet. You were on the outside looking in, screaming to yourself to say something- anything. Your gaze shifted to the floor as your hands came up to bunch up the hem of your shirt, rolling it between your fingers; an attempt to self-soothe. 

"I..."

"Oi! Stop teasing them, Dazai," Yosano shouted from the kitchen, plum-colored eyes still fixated on the fizzy concoction she began making for herself.

The sound of Yosano's strong voice ripped you from your stupor. Your head shot up, only to notice Dazai was still gazing at you- studying you. 

"I would do no such thing! I'm hurt that you think so low of me, Yosano!" Dazai's intense gaze finally eased up on you as he whipped his head around to face Yosano. The tall brunette man clutched a hand over his heart in feigned affliction. 

You took that as your opening to slip away, excusing yourself to the restroom. You hardly noticed the way Dazai's attention was drawn back to you at the sound of your hurried footsteps. "Hey- wait up!" 

You quickly pulled the bathroom door shut behind you. You could hardly look at yourself in the mirror, too ashamed of yourself for freezing up back there. The cool tile floor welcomed you as you sunk, curling into yourself. You hugged your knees as they drew closely into your chest. You could feel your rapid heartbeat in your throat, anxiety rising by the second.

"You know, I wouldn't be sitting on the floor if I were you. Let's get you up." Nothing registered until you felt firm hands grasp your biceps. A strong force drawing you up to rely upon your shaky legs. 

"Why- what are you..?" Your sentence fell off. You weren't entirely sure what you were trying to ask. Your mind was too convoluted with disappointment; shame for yourself. 

"The door was unlocked so I figured I'd let myself in! You weren't looking too hot out there, and I wanted to check up on you." Dazai's warm hands still cradled your biceps, untrusting the support your trembling legs half-heartedly gave you in your current state. 

"I'm fine," You chuckled out of nervousness before continuing, "I'll be out in a minute, so you can just go." You could tell by how Dazai looked at you that he didn't buy your lie, not even for a second. 

He let out a deep sigh, large palms moving up to your shoulders before he blurted out, "Stop, just- just stop. You're not fooling me, so quit it with the peachy-keen act. Why do you insist on hiding behind a facade?"

"Why do you?!" You shouted back. You brought your hands up to swat his hands off your shoulders. The shift between distress and rage made your legs feel more grounded. 

Dazai gaped at you for a moment. He genuinely looked taken aback before his face shifted into a tepid expression. He let his arms settle against his sides, his demeanor appearing more taut than usual.

"This isn't about me. Stop deflecting." His voice was eerily calm, making you feel unsettled. Seeing a more serious side to Dazai was far and few between for you. 

"But it is! I hate you... I hate you so much. You- you..." Your vision began to blur as tears spilled past your lashline and down your sullen cheeks. How embarrassing, you thought. Crying in front of the man that made your stomach turn. 

Dazai brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing away the onslaught of tears with the pad of his thumb. "I believe that hatred is displaced. You just don't want to acknowledge that."

Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as you drew your hand to grasp his wrist. You tugged with all your might to pull him from your cheek, but no give. Dazai stubbornly kept his large palm on your face. The warmth from his hand seared your skin. It was neither comforting nor unpleasant. Just... unfamiliar.

"You're wrong, I hate you-"

"No, you hate that you see yourself in me."

Your hand fell from his wrist. He was right, and deep down, you knew that. But you refused to admit it. It was shameful. You liked to hate Dazai because it took attention away from the real problem at hand, yourself. 

Dazai let out a sigh as he continued to wipe away your tears. "Tell me to stop if you hate it, but I'm going to hug you now." Before you could process, Dazai embraced you. His hand that was caressing your face only moments ago now cradled your neck. His other arm wrapped around your frame, enveloping you.

"I understand your pain well... I can see myself in you too. But I don't despise you, you know. I actually... worry for you. You try so hard to pretend that everything is fine. It must be exhausting."

It felt like your heart was being squeezed, as if your ribcage was collapsing in on itself. His words shot right through you, as did the guilt. You had been so unfair toward Dazai up until now. Using your displaced disdain for him as a distraction because you were too much of a coward to hold yourself accountable.

It ached so much to come to terms with. Your arms felt heavy as you pulled them up to wrap around Dazai's lanky frame. You quietly sobbed into his chest, grasping your hands into the back of his shirt desperately; as a small child would cling to their mother. 

Dazai hummed softly into your hair, welcoming the silence with open arms; as he did you. You were sure all your colleagues were wondering why Dazai and yourself had been in the restroom for so long, but you hardly cared at this very moment. 

For the first time, in a long time, you felt seen. Like you didn't need to hide when Dazai was in your presence... because even if you did- he would know. Being vulnerable felt similar to what you imagined walking a tightrope hung across two tall skyscrapers entailed. So, to say you were apprehensive about this was an understatement. 

However, in the same breath, it felt freeing. It took a little bit of weight off your shoulders to share your burdens with another person. But never in a million years did you think the person who brought you solace would end up being Dazai Osamu. 

"I'm sorry, Dazai- I'm so fucking sorry. I-"

"It's okay. Believe me, I treated people a lot worse than this from my own displaced hatred," Dazai interrupted. Caressing your hair softly, hyperaware of the wet feeling seeping through his shirt and smearing over his skin from your tears before he continued, 

"Just... just promise me you'll talk to me if it ever becomes too unbearable to handle on your own. I know how it sounds coming from me, I'm a hypocrite- huh? But trust me when I tell you… you are deserving of this thing we call living. Even if you can't see it yourself, I can... and I will remind you of that fact until I'm blue in the face if I have to." 

You pulled back from Dazai's chest as you sniffled, eyes scanning his stoic face. He smiled at you softly, rubbing up and down the sides of your arms in a comforting way. "There you are. I was beginning to think you cried your face off!" You chuckled at his dumb quip, letting your fingers untangle from the cloth adorning Dazai's back.

"Well, this is embarrassing... and I'm sure at this point all the others think were up to no good in here." It was Dazai's turn to laugh as his hands drifted lower, grasping yours softly. Your fingers intertwined as a lopsided grin painted your face.

"So let 'em! Who cares? The only thing that matters is that your heart is beating and you're here. Still standing in front of me." Your smile dropped slightly, the urge to cry bubbling back up, making your throat tighten.

"Dazai," You tightly squeezed his hands within your grasp. Scared that if you loosened your grip for even a second, this moment would be gone before you could say everything you needed to. "I'm really glad you're still here, too."

Dazai closed his eyes for a moment, his smile wavering. "There's so much pain in the world... sometimes it's hard not to notice it. I couldn't shut it out every time I felt your distress. That's why I kept a close eye on you all this time. I'm not just some creep with a staring problem,"

You both laughed at that sentiment before he continued, "I know with each day those painful thoughts are waiting for you. But it's not only that, there's also possibilities. Possibilities you can only discover as long as you're alive."

Your hands still clutched his with great force. His words caused you to cry once more as Dazai's eyes softened. He quietly cooed at you, whispering "don't cry," so gently, it was almost inaudible.  

"Dazai... I hope you know the same can be said for you, and your life," You paused, trying to swallow that lump in your throat before you continued. "I... want to help you- help you live. I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but as long as you're still here I will do whatever I can to help you. I swear it."

Your tear-filled eyes bored into his chestnut ones. Desperately hoping your words got through to him. Dazai inhaled a shaky breath, eyebrows raising slightly. His lips curved into a tight-lipped smile before he let out a small chuckle. "You're really something else, you know that? Not even ten minutes ago you were shouting about how much you hate me. Now we're best buds... how cute!"

You knew he was deflecting, you guessed being vulnerable was just as daunting to him as it was for you. Before you could say anything more, the door flung open. Both Dazai and yourself whipped your heads in the direction of Kunikida shouting. 

"Dazai! Just what do you think you're doing- wait a damn minute! What did you do to Y/N to make them cry?! Get away from them this instant you damn pervert!"

Kunikida gripped Dazai by the collar, dragging him out of the restroom. When your hands untangled from his, you felt uneasy. There was so much more you wanted to say, but it would just have to wait... for now. 

You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself at the sound of Dazai shouting for you to help prove his innocence from presumably the living room. For the first time since you stepped into the bathroom, you looked at yourself. Taking in your disheveled state.

Ah, there it is again. That funny feeling. 

don't accuse me of making this a self-insert, i will cry!

[kkumawrites]

PANG! Summary: You'd consider yourself a simple college student, a freshman who just wants to survive their first year - but things get complicated when you're suddenly falling for someone you definitely shouldn't be, especially since he has a girlfriend already. Pairing(s): lee chan x fem!reader Genres: college!au, semi sunshine x grumpy, social media!au, pretty angsty, drama, strangers to friends to lovers, TW/CW: very toxic relationships, mentions/talks about domestic abuse, talks of depression and mental illness, slight spoilers to hoshi's au (that isn't even out lmao), minor violence, more tba... Status: Complete!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ 0. main characters! 1. my bio partner is a robot 2. you care me &lt;;3 3. we are fucked 4. this is a threat (real) 5. you didn't raise me at all 6. ???? 7. just for a month 8. 2 week update 9. baby otter 10. boba (not) date ✎ 11. stop being memeable 12. third wheeling ✎ 13. a rare jihoon spotted 14. heart to heart ✎ 14.5. pink chan! 15. spring showcase 16. confrontation ✎ 17. taking some space 18. jealousy, jealousy 19. over it 20. by the shark tank 21. epilogue

[xan-izme]

"Protecter" Metkayina fam x daughter reader

Summary: The eldest daughter of Ronal is very protective, so when the Sully's arrived, trust that her dislike for them were bigger than both her mothers and little brother.

TW: Mention of death, slight family issues

Being Ronal and Tonawari's eldest daughter, you were held responsible for a lot of things. Responsible for your actions, responsible for your lessons and how to keep balance with all of them, because you have a LOT.

But most of all, you felt deeply responsible for the safety of your clan, your family. Before Tsireya and Aonung were born, you were reckless, always doing whatever, whenever you wanted. But your reckless behavior had meaning to it, all those extreme tricks you did with your Skimwing and Ilu were not just to show off. It was to prepare, to gain knowledge of what could work and what could not work in certain situations.

After passing your Iknimaya and finally becoming a warrior, that was around the time Aonung was born. Your father had spoken with you about changing your ways, be safer, was what he was practically saying in his one our lecture.

You didn't argue back, seeing as you were Aonung's eldest sister, you were a warrior, best in their village and in their clan. And you were getting older, no longer a child, you abandoned your reckless ways and made sure to follow the rules, to show Aonung how a true warrior is to act.

When the Sully's arrived, you were not in Awa'atulu. You were beyond the reff, making sure the sky demons were not near the nest the Tulkuns had made. And if the sky demons were near, it was your job and others to alert the Tulkuns and help them move to another loction.

When arriving back home, you demanded to have a meeting with your father and mother.

"Have you both gone mad!?" You were not very happy when you had gotten word of Toruk Makto and his family being here. And seeing them at the beech when you and the other young warriors came back for the season.

It didn't look right for them to be there. And all of this didn't feel right to you either. Yes, you respect Jake Sully for the warrior he was back in the rain forests. But now, the sky demons have come back, and knowing his story and why he had come here, you just hope the Sully's respect your dislike of them being here.

"The Sully's are only here for sanctuary daughter. Jake Sully-"

"Jake Sully brings war father, war brings death . . . death brings hate and hate causes more death!" You had cut your father off as you burst out in anger. Ronal stayed silent, her eyes closed as she slowly rubbed her baby bump when you had mentioned death and war.

The Marui was silent for a moment. Tonawari sighed, nodding his head. Your father signaled you to come closer, you did as told and kneeled down with him.

"I understand your worries and doubts, but my daughter--" Tonawari held your hand in his "--They are a family in need. We cannot simply turn them away. If our family were in their situation-"

"We are not like them." You were quick to cut Tonawari off. Your nose scrunched up in distaste.

"Yes, but if. If were seeking Uturu, they would have done the same and welcomed us in." Your father truly did want you to be at ease and just welcome the Sully family in and help them adapt.

"You don't know that. . . we don't know this family."

"No, my daughter, you don't know this family. You have been gone for these past sessions, so you are to help your siblings teach the Sully children our ways."

You looked at your father as if he really has gone crazy, you glanced to your mother. The two of you stared into each other's eyes. By the looks of it, your mother was practically telling you to give in, no use of arguing against it.

You gave out a deep, depressing sigh and agreed. Leaving the Marui.

Ronal and Tonawari watched as you left. "She has good reasons to act this way." Ronal spoke. Tonawari sighed and closed his eyes. He understands your protectiveness, the sky demons have hurt you before, and it is only reasonable for you to not want the hurt the sky demons inflected on you, to happen again.

The first time the Sully family heard of you, you were this great warrior that went beyond great lengths for the safety of her people, making new arrangements, making sure the other Metkyina spirit brothers and sisters were safe from the sky demons.

You looked a lot like Tonawari, but you acted a lot like Ronal.

You were a little rough when it came to teaching the Sully's. You didn't like talking to them much, only interfering if someone strayed too far or if you saw that it was time to take a break so the Sully kids can catch their breath.

"Sister?" Tsireya spoke as she entered your Marui. You glanced at her and gave her a small nod, which she returned one of her own.

"Stop moving, Tsyava." You mumbled as you tightened the wrappings on the Na'vi man. "Ow! . . .Tsireya, can you please tell your sister to be gentle with me?" Tsyava begged.

Tsireya giggled "She is your mate Tsyava, this is a problem between the both of you."

You chuckled as you gave your little sister a smirk. Your mate sighed, knowing that this was useless.

"What did you come for, little sister?" You spoke as you finished up.

"Well . . . sister, something has happened with Lo'ak." Tsireya watched as you cleaned up the martials you used. Your mate sat himself up and started to do his own chores around the marui.

"Lo'ak? that Sully boy, right? what about him, did Anoung cause trouble again.?'' Your nose scrunched up as your voice became a little harsher.

"No, no, no! . . . Sister, Lo'ak has interacted with Payakan."

The room went stiff. Tsyava glanced at you and continued with his chores. You clenched your jaw, not looking up at Tsireya as you continued to clean.

"Sister, Payakan saved him! confided in Lo'ak and-and if things continue-"

"Payakan is a murder. By the Tulkun law, and our law." You stood up and put the materials away. Tsireya's ears pinned back. She stood in place, fidgeting with her fingers.

Tsireya knows how you are. Your loyal and firm to the rules of the people. If you didn't decide to step down for the role as chief, you would have been close to be the first female chief in the clan, but you fell for Tsyava, and the man doesn't like to be the center of attention 24/7.

A meeting was called. When you arrived, that is when you found out about the problem.

"You allowed him to bond with the outcast!?" Ronal was distressed, and very angered at her children, you stood off to the side as you watched your siblings and the Sully boy get scolded.

Tonawari explained the history of the Tulkun. You have heard the story multiple times. It is a story that you will always keep in mind, the story represents your morals and reasons for safety.

"I'm sorry sir. . . but your wrong."

"Lo'ak!" Lo'aks mother hissed at him for being disrespectful to the chief. "I know what I know."

This made you scoff.

"You know nothing boy." You finally spoke. The tension in the air was too much. Tsireya thought she was going to cry if you didn't speak any longer. Your silence was scarcer than your burst of anger.

"I know the story of Payakan . . . I was there." Your hard expression softens when you focused on the Sully boy. "I lost many friends . . . I lost my own spirit sister."

You shifted yourself a little closer to Lo'ak and put your hand on his shoulder. "I understand that the rules seem unjust. But the rules keep us safe. Keeps your family safe." You stood up, ready to leave this suffocating meeting.

"So please, do your family and our clan a favor and don't be another young soul we have to return to Eywa." Your voice became bitter, you then looked at both Tsireya and Aonung, but mainly on Tsireya.

You gave her a look and shook your head in disappointment before leaving.

A lot of people don't blame you for the many lives that were lost that day. Saying that you were just a child, but so was Payakan! He was a child that had his mother taken from him.

You know if your mother was taken from you in such a way, you would do the same thing. When you lost that first battle you ever had, you lost a lot.

Lives had to be lost to see that the rules are important and are there for a reason. You don't want anyone to suffer the same as you did. No matter what tribe they came from, losing a sister like that was the worst feeling.

So, you follow the rules, make more rules if needed. As long as everyone is safe, alive. Thats all that matters. Because you're the eldest daughter of Ronal and Tonawari. You were meant to protect, and that is just what you'll do.

[mihawkhugs]

starlight

haikyuu | oikawa x reader | soulmate au

tw :  mentions of depression, and brief mention of attempts at suicide

He seemed to be made of starlight, standing out among the throngs of students, the faceless members of society, and the monotony of your daily life. 

Whatever Oikawa Tooru did, wherever he went, he seemed to command attention. He was like the sole candle in a dark room, and the people his willing moths. He seemed to radiate light. He was often accompanied by laughter and giggles, and smiles and grins.. He seemed to be universally admired no matter where he was, and that both terrified and amazed you. 

Yet, as someone who grappled with depression, paced with anxiety, drowned in insecurity, and jested with sorrow like he was an old friend, you couldn't help but notice his eyes. Sometimes, despite being surrounded by his friends and fans, he seemed to be lonely, or like a doll on display, pretty, but devoid of life and love.

In an odd way, Oikawa Tooru reminded you of yourself, of who you were before you sought help, and opened up. 

It didn't mean that you stopped hurting, stopped feeling nothing, stopped counting the seconds that seemed so fleeting, yet eternal. It just meant you hurt a little less sometimes, and that was enough, at least for now. You weren't okay, but that was alright. You were here and alive, and that opened a door of possibilities for you, even if it seemed impossible for now.

You couldn't help but notice how different he seemed around his friends, around his fangirls, and in the court. He was like an enchanted mirror, reflecting what people wished to see. 

Oikawa Tooru seemed to demand attention. On the court, his intensity was unmatched, and he very much felt like a predator, hunting for his meal, desperate to survive. With his fangirls, he seemed so princely, complying to their demands and proclamations of love, his smile a little too perfect, a little too practiced. 

With his friends, he seemed almost at ease, joking around, whining, calling for his "Iwa-chan" as he acted childishly. It was almost cute, you mused, how different he seemed from people to people, group to group. 

But in the end, a reflection and its image only exists in the mirror, and our minds. Reality demands different.

Bleh, how disgusting. 

You first met Oikawa when you were hiding at a remote stairwell in school, experiencing a panic attack. The first day of school for you had been overwhelming to say the least, and being in a new country, with foreign people, did not help. 

He had come across you for god knows what reason, as you cowered in the shadows, breathing uneven, mind screaming, body trembling, feeling terrified, giddy, and like you were about to projectile vomit Picasso style. 

His honey brown eyes and annoying fluffy hair, still echo in your mind. For a moment, he looked oh so kind and real and there, as he knelt down and whispered, almost too quiet to hear, "Are you okay?". 

You had shivered, covering your ears in reflex.

His words seemed to shock you, almost enough to make snap out of your panicked haze, and on your lower back, you could distinctly feel your soul words tingle, and an unfamiliar warmth rushed through you.

As you opened your mouth (to say something to express the please-love-shock-fear), you couldn't help but hesitate, feeling and looking like a drowned rat. He seemed so kind, so perfect, and much too good for you. His kind stare lingered on your body, and for a moment, something seemed to flash across his eyes, a sort of understanding and pity. 

So you didn't speak to him, to Oikawa Tooru, the boy who seemed to be made of star stuff, who felt so far away from you, yet so beautiful and mesmerising. You offered him a wobbly smile, before burying your head in your arms again, trying hold yourself together like it would help and make everything stop, and quiet down. 

He didn't leave. You heard him sit on the steps, a slight distance away from you, and you could distinctly feel his presence. The words on your lower back seemed to shiver in foreign delight.

And he sat there as you refused to look at the world, trying to drown our everything, in the shadows and darkness of the little stairwell. 

Silence had never seemed so loud. 

From then on, you seemed to notice him much more often. He'd smile at you, a little soft and a little sweet, when he passed by you. You'd try and nod your head, in acknowledgement, though sometimes you insecurity made you doubt he was even saying hi to you.

You'd glance behind you sometimes, looking for someone he'd actually acknowledge.

But there were days where you felt numb, and so painfully empty. It was like you were watching the world move behind  a glass box, and you felt so detached, so indifferent, that it scared you at times. 

There were days where you couldn't come to school. The bed too soft and safe, the clock too loud, the sun too bright, and you, too tired, too old, too late. And on those days, or nights, starlight seemed a little less bright, and a little more cold. 

There were days where you forced yourself to go to school, sluggishly dragging yourself through the day, running on future energy, running on desperation. 

Sometimes you'd go to the stairwell, just sitting in the silence, because the darkness just felt so familiar and safe. 

On those days, you'd find a little carton of strawberry milk, or a packet of milk bread sitting on your desk.

You were lactose intolerant, and though you knew you'd regret it, the taste of milk had never felt so comforting. And when you passed by the pretty boy, you'd give him a hesitant smile. 

After all, you'd once caught him putting a packet of milk there. Not that you'd ever tell him, because it would ruin the magic of anonymity (though you appreciated his gesture). 

But you'd see him talking to normal girls, beautiful girls, who seemed so warm and alive, and you'd understand, that the boy who seemed made of starlight, was out of your reach. 

After all, who'd want to be soulmates with you?

It had been a year later, where you found Oikawa, sitting on your spot at the stairwell. He had his head buried in his arms, and appeared to be upset. 

You blinked, hesitating a little, before setting off to the canteen, to buy some milk bread, and a carton of chocolate milk.

On your way back, you bumped into a tall, spiky haired male, who seemed like he could crush you with his bare arms. But, you noted, had kind eyes (of an older brother, of a friend who has known loss).

Sad, a little angry, but very kind. His soulmate would be lucky to have him, you concluded. 

To your surprise, he looked at you amongst everyone, and seemed to see you. He noticed the little bag of goodies you bought, and a smile seemed to tug at his lips, causing you to blink in surprise, before it hit you who he was. 

He passed you, before very gently patting your head, and murmured, "Take care of that idiot okay?".

Before you could answer, the giant beefy men left, leaving you to stare at his back, his volleyball jacket especially noticeable. It was the angry guy Oikawa was always with, the one who made him real, and seemed a little less like the stars. 

You made your way back to Oikawa, hearing whisper along the way, about how they had lost against Shiratorizawa. You hummed a little, accepting the situation as it is, realising that he must really love volleyball a lot. 

You sat on the stairwell, making sure to give him space, as you gently set the plastic bag of goods near his feet. A peace offering of sorts, and an apology. 

To your surprise, as you stood up to leave and give him space, because you had noticed the annoyed glint in his eyes at times, when the girls crowded around him, he lifted his head, looking like a kicked puppy. 

"Stay."

He whispered, tone bordering on begging, sounding like a puppy about to be abandoned by their owner, and your heart went out to the boy who looked so lost, so alone. 

You sat down as he sniffled a little, reaching out to the plastic bag, mindlessly taking a milk bread to eat. He stared down at the snack in surprise, before looking at you, with his observant eyes. 

You contemplated a little in the darkness, musing over your words. You hoped to comfort the boy, just as he had comforted you before. At this moment, he seemed so alone and tired, and a little angry, raging against the heavens. The glint in his eyes seemed so contradictory, and you fought the urge to pat his head, or hug him. 

"Do I look that good?" He smirked a little at you, leaning impossible close as your eyes widened slightly. 

Oh dear, you didn't realise you were staring. 

Unconsciously or consciously, you spoke, voice a little soft, meeting his eyes, You didn't blush, because something about his smile seemed so fake, reminding you of the mask you used to put on, when you tried so hard to be okay. 

When you saw the knowing glint in his eyes however, you couldn't help but feel that he knew. 

"You'll be okay, everything will be fine."

You couldn't help but lean up, and pat his hair, which felt as soft as it looked to your amusement. 

He froze, and for a moment, he looked torn between sorrow, and wonder, and you could have sworn you saw him smile drop into a sad frown, twitching. It was the face that everyone had, whenever tears were trying and failing at being held back at bay. 

He reached out, and hugged you gently, as though he was afraid you'd break, as though he wasn't the one hurting right now. He buried his face in your neck, nuzzling you gently. 

And that became one of many moments, where you were grateful that you didn't choose to end your life, years ago. 

You couldn't help but hug him back, hands patting him automatically, just as you did whenever you comforted your baby brother as he cried. You hummed softly as he trembled slightly in your arms, milk bread laying on the stairs, forgotten. 

You could feel jarringly warm tears dripping on your blouse, but you stayed silent. Years of experience told you that he had been needing a good cry for a long time. And so he did, crying silently, seeming so small despite being being physically bigger than you.

His silent tears tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't help but want to help him, feeling your cold, numb self softening just a little, as he reminded you of your younger self - so afraid, so sad, and alone, wanting help but not knowing how to reach out. 

So you stayed at the stairwell, embracing the boy who seemed to be made of starlight, realising that in fact, he was as human as you are, though no less amazing as you had thought him to be. 

And years later, as you woke up, entangled with his warm large body, as the Argentinian sun winked through the blinds at the both of you.

And you realise how fast time flies, and how much more at peace you feel. Because the universe is ever changing, ever moving, and ever healing. And as the boy made of starlight woke up with a groan, nuzzling his head into your neck, whining as his hand traced your lower back lovingly, as he had throughout the years, you couldn't help but feel grateful that you had both chosen each other, and healed, even just a little, together.

[soundspeachytome]

7 minutes in heaven - shohei ohtani au

summary: Y/N snoops around famous football player Shohei Ohtani’s locker in search for a scandal against his clean record but ends up in one herself.

tropes: friends with benefits, friends to lovers(?)

tw: *slight* smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving)

word count: 30,033K words (i'm SO sorry in advance holy shit)

hi! it's been a while. when i made this account, i vowed to write at least once a week but it had been so difficult this month juggling work, my chronic migraines, and seasonal depression (lol).

please note i did not proofread this so plsssss i apologize for grammar mistakes and inconsistencies!!

posting this on the last day of 2023, hoping to give everyone a good read before we welcome the new year. so thankful for this small space to try, linger and reset all over again. hope you had a very merry holidays with your loved ones.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==================================

Locker Lockdown

At around thirty minutes past four in the afternoon, I skimmed the clubhouse for any signs of life. It was only the quiet that prevailed. Clear. 

I tiptoed my way towards the player locker room. I only had around ten minutes to locate the correct locker and take whatever I could find. Discovering the locker area to be empty and unguarded, I felt a surge of excitement. 

Six years later, I couldn’t get my big break and decided sports journalism could catapult me into somewhere big in the industry. This is my last chance to prove myself, otherwise I’d have to reconsider going back home and write Hallmark greeting card messages again. 

Shohei Ohtani’s jersey number is the number 17. Lucky bastard, after all these years and even after going through free agency, he got to keep his famous number, even at the cost of having their senior player give it up for him when he joined the football team. 

And here you might be wondering why I’m doing this aside from my sheer desperation to get an official spot in the workplace and not eat scraps of topics editors discarded for themselves. 

Some people are privileged to a fault.

And I hate seeing him on TV. Or on social media. Or his Colgate-white smile plastered all over my favorite beer and skincare brands. 

Some would say this is the TMZ tabloid level of writing. I say this is investigative journalism. Find out if the famous favorite son-in-law has any flaws of his own and wrap around a bowtie of hidden horrors of sports documentaries. 

And where else can we find this but in the athlete hotpot: their locker room.

I found Shohei’s locker right away as it was the tidiest locker among all on display, with nothing but brand-sponsored clothing hung neatly on the rack. He also donned the top shelf with some dog-eared self-help titles and vitamin bottles. While the rest of the athletes have pictures of their girlfriends, wives and their kids, Shohei has an unreleased polaroid selfie with his dog, Dekopin, just right beside his perfume bottles. Dekopin was looking away, captured in mid-yawn, with his ears raised, and Shohei, smiling into the camera with pursed lips and a snapback on.

I got so immersed into reading the ingredients of his vitamin bottles, trying to find anything remotely related to steroids, or any form of illegal bodily enhancements, that I didn’t notice footsteps from outside the hall.

“What are you doing here?” a voice loomed behind me and I dropped the diet supplement bottle in panic.

Only the sound of the bottle rattling could be heard as I locked eyes with Shohei Ohtani, tall and all muscular. His hair was sweaty and unkempt and his eyes held mild anger and confusion. After the bottle stopped rolling and settled somewhere on the floor between us, there was only silence and the cold sweat building up at my back. 

I swallowed hard. I planned everything from studying the stadium’s entrance and exit doors but I didn’t plan on bumping into him. Not like this. Not when I’m at the lowest level of the social hierarchy right now. 

I could only be ashamed. 

Brain still befuddled at the thought of getting caught, I urged my limbs and picked up the vitamin bottle and returned it back to Shohei’s locker. The plan was not to respond at all and run as fast as I could before the rest of his team arrived. That was the only way to keep whatever dignity I have left. 

“I said, what are you doing here?” He caught my arm mid-exit and pulled me back, tightening his grip. 

“Let go of me.” I struggled to keep my balance and the way my voice wavered was no help at all. 

Shohei saw the camera slung over my shoulder and looked back at me, realization hitting him.

“Y/N, are you a sports journalist now? And were you looking through my stuff?” he said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“That’s none of your business. Let go of me.” I kept my voice steady but his grip only tightened. The sides of my eyes slowly formed tears. 

“What tabloid media do you work for? I should report you. Would you like that? What a shame you’ll be banned from all the games now, right? You nasty journalists just won’t keep your noses away from my business.” he took my camera and deleted all the photos I took of the contents of his locker. I tried to leap for it but he was obviously inches taller than I was and I was no match for that.

“I don’t write tabloid news. If I was, my name would have been all over TV by now.” I grabbed the camera from him and sighed morosely at the lost media. A day’s work is all lost.

“My boss gave me a green light to do a documentary about the team. And the star player.” I wiggled my fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize the word “star” in front of him.

“I came here assuming you and the other players would be here for an interview but no one was around yet. So I hung around a bit and took interest in your nutritional supplements.” Lie after lie after lie. I gritted my teeth and faked a smile. The most convincing lie I’ve learned on almost all my failed dates and relationships was to stroke a man’s ego and have him talk about all the things he is interested in, making him divert his attention to something else. 

“You’ve got really good, um, vitamins for muscle recovery there. Maybe that’s why you got so big and strong, right?.” He looked at me dubiously, nodding responsively to be polite. If he took the bait, then he is obviously just like any other guy I’ve ever met. 

“I mean, I guess? I’ve been doing deadlifts so–”

Approaching footsteps and faint voices were heard from the hall. Shohei pushed me toward the opposite end of the hall, where the showers were located. 

“Wha–” I started but was shut up when he pushed me further into the back of the shower room, swiping the doors closed. 

“Shut up if you don’t want to be caught.” He growled and I recoiled back into the tiled corner. On top of me was the almost rusting shower head who had seen better days, and two bottle pumps for shampoo and body wash. 

Voices and conversations were starting to fill in the locker room that was empty only a few seconds ago. The voices of men echoed through the shower rooms.  You could hear the sound of water turning on from neighboring shower stalls, laughter and tired conversation in the locker area. We were surrounded.

Shohei could be heard laughing with his mates while blocking the door to the shower room I was hiding in. 

“Are you using that, Sho? I could use a hot shower right now.” one of his teammates said. 

“Uh, no, I was just about to use this room, sorry.” he said, almost hesitating. After a few seconds, he entered the shower room and started undressing. 

I widened my eyes and shot him daggers. When he unhooked his shirt from his armholes, I was rendered speechless. 

He had the body sculpted by the gods with his wide shoulders and large pecs that glinted under the light. How could someone look handsome and beautiful at the same time? 

So when Shohei reached for the waist belt of his pants down, I didn’t know why I had choked on a silent scream. I looked away, embarrassed to have reacted like an inexperienced teenager. I have seen and have been with naked men before. This should be nothing new to me and my level. Or so I thought.

I stole a glance at Shohei, who was slowly walking towards me (or to the showerhead, where I stood under, obviously)  in only his boxers on, gazing at me in wild amusement.

We were almost inches apart from each other, foreheads almost touching, breaths almost converging, if you may. If I stand on my tiptoes, I would be almost at his eye-level and I could peck him on the lips if I wanted to. 

If I wanted to.

“Sorry, but I need to shower or someone else will try to take this stall.” His voice broke my salacious thoughts. He looked at me and turned the shower on.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to. Aren’t I? I just got off practice and I stink.” He said almost sarcastically.

“So I’m supposed to just watch you bathe and hope I get out here alive?” Water slowly dripped into my shirt, soaking my chest and exposing a bit of my underwear. 

“If you didn’t sneak in here, we wouldn’t have this problem.” He concluded and pursed his lips, not looking at me. 

“Shohei? You okay? You sound like you’re talking to someone.” a familiar voice floated into the shower room.

“It was a video on my phone that I forgot to pause, Ippei-san.” Shohei’s face turned red but recovered quickly, glaring at me. 

“Oh, well then, I thought you finally had a girl in there. I was wrong.” Ippei laughed.

Shohei started lathering body wash on his body at the slowest pace possible. His hands glided through his chest, stomach, and into the dick he’s restraining inside his boxers. Simply having this view had me almost whimpering. If it had been another day, I would have obviously enjoyed this, having a sexy man bathe in front of me, because who wouldn’t? But under my circumstances, I’m only fairly annoyed at being a flustered, hot mess and I couldn’t do anything about it. 

“Oh, fuck, now you got me wet.” I blurted a little loudly as the water splashed and got into my socks. 

Shohei’s widened and panicked eyes shot at me.

In between those short seconds, Shohei was able to respond quicker than my brain could. He had faked a laugh and said loudly, “Well, that’s awkward, the video keeps on playing on its own. Let me turn my phone off instead.” gaining laughter from outside the shower area and then reaching for the small of my neck and closed whatever space was seen between us. 

Based on what I had learned in self-defense training, my initial bodily reaction should have been this: If someone is coming at you from the front, a groin kick may deliver enough force to paralyze your attacker, making your escape possible. 1. Stabilize yourself as best you can. 2. Lift your dominant leg off the ground and begin to drive your knee upward. 3. Extend your dominant leg, drive hips forward, slightly lean back, and kick forcefully, making contact between your lower shin or ball of your foot and the attacker’s groin area.

Instead, when his lips touched mine, I felt my arms throw around his neck and pulled him closer. They say we’re all beggars for something, and this indulgence I had let myself be greedy for. 

When his lips reached mine, I parted like the Red Sea almost immediately, welcoming him and everything that he could offer: the taste of his tongue on my mouth, the smell of honey orange and apricot from his body wash seeping through my nose as I peppered kisses on his chest, and his obviously hard dick grinding against my stomach. When I palmed him, he managed a low growl and caught my wrists.

“Not here.” he groaned.

I pushed my head back inquiringly, both of us breathing too hard. 

“I have no condom,” he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. Under the dim bathroom light, I could see his face and chest were flushed. “Next time?”

“Well, usually when two old friends meet after a fall out in college, they just catch up and have coffee.” I said.

He laughed and said quietly, “Okay, so I owe you.”

“The coffee or the protected sex?” 

“Uh, it could go a lot of ways.” Before he could say more, I palmed him through his boxer shorts and looked up at him, trying to find his limit.

Shohei bit his own lip and tugged the roots of my hair in a bundle, pulling and tugging from the pleasure. To keep himself from making such ungodly hot sounds, he pushed his tongue down my throat and thrusted his hips back and forth against my hand.

As if to make it even, he unclasped my bra and sucked on my already soaked breasts, a satisfied groan slipped from me. We both pulled and pushed and sucked and kissed each other in the crevices the shower splatters couldn’t reach, silencing the moans before it could escape us.  

In that brief and elating moment, while we muted the noise from unsuspecting people, we smothered each other’s groans and reached our highs in the quietest, most pleasurable way possible. 

=========================================

7 minutes of heaven

It’s strange how I always find myself in the most ridiculous situations. 

The next few occasions that I’d meet Shohei would be wordless and timed interactions in enclosed spaces. We’d see each other in public and pretend we didn’t know each other but slip each other notes of the next place we’d secretly meet. It all felt strangely exhilarating to keep a secret like a fifteen year old would, with all the sneaking and running. 

We’ve explored almost every nook and cranny of the stadium, discovering hidden spots of our rendezvous. We’d meet up in a different bathroom and he’d push me on my back while he fucks me repeatedly on the bathroom sink. Pre-game preps meant I gave him blowjobs in his manager’s office hours and hours before everyone even arrived. 

Of course, when we ran out of places to hide, we’d go as far as looking for the next empty parking lot and tried to fuck each other noiselessly.

“So when can I take you out for dinner?” he had asked one day, when he dragged me out to meet with him around after midnight. I wouldn’t let him inside my apartment and I refused to do the deed in his either, so he’d bring me to places that only us knew, to fuck, to kiss, sometimes to talk, but more often, to drive each other’s pleasure and only that. 

Because god forbid we both catch feelings and lose the fun, right?

So no talking, no sharing of personal details, no anything. 

We were in an empty parking lot, away from the lampposts and streetlights. Shohei had made sure that we were well hidden in the dark. 

He had his legs spread while sitting on the driver’s seat. His hands, warm and wide, rested on my hips and thighs, lightly urging me to ride him slowly.

Soft RNB music played on the stereo, it was a quiet, still night. It was both our day off so he had wanted us to chill and take the sex slowly.

Slow meant gazing at each other’s eyes–gaze, not look–with endearment or adoration, not lust or pleasure. Slow meant thinking the unthinkable thoughts. Slow meant being vulnerable while coming undone.

And I don’t want the slow and quiet moments. I wanted the fast and rough with no time to talk, gaze or even think, just one hundred percent fun and debauchery. 

“Mmm. Maybe when you show me your photos,” I avoided the question but I also knew Shohei would never show me the photos he had taken–past and present. Even when we had been buddies for an entire semester, he had, not once, shown me his portfolio. 

“So probably never, right?” he gazed up at me with his creamy brown eyes, hands caressing my stomach lightly. 

“Probably,” I muttered and with that he had gripped my thighs tightly and moved his hips upwards to meet me. I moaned when he hit me in the right spots. Any sign of softness he had shown a few moments ago was gone, and only the roughness and unsettling disconnection remained. 

This particularly fine day, I would be standing at the mercy of his mouth. He had dragged me to an empty storage room in the east wing of the stadium, hours after practice. According to him, the area stands the exact opposite from the lockers so most people hardly come by. How he had found out about this, I had no idea. 

He was kneeling in between me, my right leg hooked on his shoulder, giving him more access and my hands tugged at the strands of his hair every time he licked my sensitive clit. 

Shohei’s tongue grazing against me had left me quivering in delight. He stands up and kisses me, giving me a taste. My fingers started unbuckling his belt when he felt his phone vibrate. 

“Oops, Ippei’s looking for me.” He pockets his phone, looking forlorn, as if telling me he didn’t really want to go yet. “See you again next time?”

“Yours or mine?” I had asked, brushing up and straightening my wrinkled dress. And when I realized what I had done, Shohei’s eyes shot up and he beamed widely. 

“I just– I- I want a proper night with sex, you know.” I explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s so uncomfortable having to go commando at work after you had just literally sucked the life out of my vagina, Sho.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smiled even more.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“What? Fuck off.” By this time, my face felt hot and had probably looked red like a tomato, which probably amused Shohei even more. 

“Your place, then. I’ll call you.” he gives me one last kiss then heads out first, leaving me a dazed and pulsating mess.

A shrill sound knocked me awake. It felt like seven thousand screaming hungry babies in my ear, bouncing off around my brain like a pinball. 

I looked at the digital clock on the bedside table and saw the time glinting behind the glass: 8:41 PM. I must've fallen asleep after taking a half day off from work, feeling nauseous and slightly feverish. It seemed that whatever body malaise that I have been carrying inside me earlier had sprung into a full-blown ailment.

 I pushed my body up and walked groggily to the source of my misery. 

Someone was buzzing the doorbell and repeatedly pounding on the door. Great.

“If you’re not dead or dying behind this door, you’re about to be.” I croaked harshly, throat burning; putting all my remaining energy in pulling the door open. I was greeted by an extremely tall man with frantic brown eyes, searching my face.

“Oh, thank fucking god. I’ve been knocking for half an hour.” he wrapped me in a tight hug, I almost collapsed. Partly because of the throbbing headache and overall discomfort that I already felt, but hugely because of the warm minty scent of Shohei Ohtani. 

“Jesus, you’re burning up!”

“What are you doing here?” I said, struggling in his grip, his face resting on the curve of my neck. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You don’t text someone ‘at least i’ll die happy today knowing that my last meal was shoyu ramen’ and then not fucking reply after.” We were still standing by the entrance, his face now angled towards me, a look of concern or anger mixed in his face, I couldn’t tell. My cerebral cortex functions seemed to have shut down after witnessing this unexpected tenderness. 

“Medicine knocked me down cold.” I shrugged weakly. 

Shohei pulled me into the bedroom and tucked me back in, apologizing for his intrusion, putting down plastic bags of what seemed to be groceries on the kitchen counter, and went back to lightly scolding me for proper texting etiquette to family and friends, to anyone really. That my dark humor doesn’t translate well in messages and that I could have really died and people would think I’m joking but really, he got so scared that he went here as fast as he could.

I don’t remember much but in between fever dreams and my ibuprofen haze, I faintly remember the savory taste of rice porridge exploding in my mouth, the constant dabbing of a cold towel on my face, neck and chest, sometimes, my back, too; the smell of rubbing alcohol and a large, gentle, almost loving touch. 

I don’t remember much but in between waking up in the darkness and stone-cold silence, I remember soft forehead kisses until I drifted back to sleep; of big strong arms enclosing me into a big embrace, as if to tell me, you can put your guard down now. you are safe here. 

I don’t remember much from coming in and out of slumber, but I remember thinking: wouldn’t it be nice if this wasn’t a dream?

======================================

Reset

In the end, I quit sports media on my own volition and got into a friend’s ceramics house. I have always had a thing for ceramics and sculpting as early as college, where I had met my then-professor and now friend–who happens to be the owner of mentioned ceramics house. She had always praised me and encouraged me to join her when she first opened the shop, but as someone who had musings for writing at the time, I politely declined and pursued, you guessed it, journalism. 

I’ve always been good at writing, no doubt, from the way professors always had a good word for me, but I always seem to get into the wrong places every time. Time moves fast if you’re a journo, if you’re slow, then the news is rehashed news, it would just be a late-night recap at a midnight slot that no one is ever awake to watch. 

Here, inside her shop, it was quiet, and time moved slowly. I can get into my laziest clothes and no one bats an eye. I can finally retire my stilettos and straight cut blazers. 

It was all so going well. The customers were always mid-twenties who got interested in our social media marketing of creating your own mugs and other ceramics and always came in in groups, duos, and solos. 

Slowly, I realized that not everyone gets to the places they want. Even when you work blood and sweat for it. Not all were built like, say, Shohei Ohtani, whose talent was recognized early and afforded him an automatic slot in the big leagues.

Some are born to be big icons and some, like the rest of us, are meant for smaller, softer spaces. I get that now. It finally felt like I was in the right place and pace. 

All this positivity and good timing felt all too good to be true and been proven accurate when the scandal blew up. 

Shohei Ohtani photographed exiting his LA apartment with a woman in his arms.

Shohei Ohtani’s rumored girlfriend receives backlash from fans: READ MORE

EXCLUSIVE: More photographs of Shohei Ohtani and rumored girlfriend driving away in his Porsche

Rumored girlfriend of Shohei Ohtani: Who is She?

When I say it was everywhere, I meant it exploded right in front of our faces like a million confetti, falling and twirling fast. It was unstoppable. It was inevitable.

I felt my limbs go numb when I read the morning news. There in bold and black letters was the headline, my name and a clear photo of me holding Shohei’s arm, smiling. A certain news outlet had gotten juice of us and our secret hideouts and had spread all over social media like wildfire. You know what’s funnier? The media outlet that released this was my previous employer. The same company that asked me to snuff out a controversy. While I had failed to give them the news they wanted, I had unintentionally brought them an exclusive that wrote my entire name–and face–off the map and potentially ruined Shohei Ohtani’s clean record. 

Shohei Ohtani, despite his happy-go-lucky and passive demeanor, was a very serious and straight-laced person. I already knew this in university but I got to see more of this side of him when we had started the fucking thing. Even though I had clearly told him that I didn’t want any strings attached, it was unavoidable to give and receive bits and pieces of each other when we’re not naked. 

I  did enjoy talking to Shohei under the sheets. His ingenious ideas and the way he talked about the things he adored spilled all over him, like afternoon sunlight streaming in between curtains, making way even through the small spaces to cast his light. I basked into this warmth as much time allowed me, because who knows when I can experience the glow of his presence again after all the chaos. 

He was exactly like the golden hour: a warm afternoon orange luminescence that usually only stays for ten to fifteen minutes a day. If you wait too long to look up, he disappears quickly as he goes, leaving only the faint orange, yellow and pink hues chasing after him before the black of the night takes over you. 

Well, now the fairytale has run its course and the sun has set to announce that golden hour is over. Night has finally fallen on me and I’m feeling scared and alone.

The first thing I did was to grab as much stuff as I could and put them all in my luggage and filed for an indefinite leave. 

As if like clockwork, my phone rang and saw Shohei’s name on the caller ID. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What could I possibly say to him? That I used him just for the clicks and the views? That after all this time we spent together, he would realize that I am still the same despicable, scathing piece of garbage who’d trample on anyone just for a few cents?

So I don’t answer. Even when he calls back again and again and leaves me twenty or more messages by the hour. I turned my phone off. The latest message from Ohtani coming up on the notifications bar read, “Where are you?” before the screen flashed to black. 

I have nothing but my pride left. I’d like to keep it that way.  In such a way, I was embarrassed, too. I thought I finally had something to brag about. A job that I actually liked and enjoyed, a peaceful mind, and the possibility of liking a guy who had shown me nothing but kindness. 

And because I couldn’t handle all of this, I handled it like I have always handled things: I ran away like a coward. 

I rode a bus without reading its destination card and let it drive me away as far as it could, to someplace where no one knew me or Shohei Ohtani, or had any idea about the news. 

The bus drove away and I never looked back. 

================================

Waiting Until My Spring Comes Again: Shohei’s POV

Just like that I lost her. She wasn’t even mine to begin with. 

When the news broke out, I was so furious that I wanted to drive to the news outlet that published the article and give them a piece of my mind. I knew my blind rage would have done more damage so I didn’t.

Instead, I looked for her and wanted to let her know that whatever happens, I won’t drop her just like that. That I’m willing to acknowledge the rumors and make it official, if she wanted to. 

I’ve always been open to the idea of taking it to the next level with her but every time I broached the subject, she would change the topic, get into a foul mood, or try to pick a fight with me. Which I found endearing. She’s so adorable when she pouts. And when she pushes her luck thinking a five foot four girl like her can withstand someone as tall as me. 

I just can’t help but laugh and feel a flutter in my stomach. She’s someone who has been adorable and held a special corner in my heart. 

Y/N’s face was so expressive and whatever emotion she was in it would always be evident on her face. When she’s happy, a dimple on her cheek shows up. When she’s feeling sad or down, she’d look downcast and would prefer that you leave her alone. When she’s thinking about something deep, she would chew on her lower lip and always had a blank almost unfocused stare. Despite her many faces, I’m sure as hell that I love all of them. I wanted to be by her side when all this shit happened, I wanted to see which face she was making. Is she pissed like I was? Is she sad? I wouldn’t know. The moment her number didn’t connect after I had tried reaching her, I already knew that she was avoiding me. 

I lost count of how many messages I had sent her, of how many missed calls and voicemails I left her. She was unreachable. She gave me her spare key so when I tried visiting her apartment, it was empty. 

She was gone. 

And only the traces of her lingered in her apartment. Her unwashed mug with leftover stale coffee was on the kitchen counter, specks of lipstick staining the mouth. Dirty clothes hanging on her bathroom door, forgotten and unwashed. The peachy scent of her purifier that always latches on to her clothes whenever we go out. Her unread books on her coffee table, some dog eared and annotated. 

Everything that I love about her is here except for her and I miss her. 

For the next couple of days, I dodged the media and focused on training, playing and practicing. Those three over and over again. I tried to not think about her and lose sleep because of her. An athlete’s wellbeing is connected to quality sleep. 

But she was everywhere I went. Pieces of her were scattered all over the places I avoided, and it was my fault really, for bringing her to places we usually hid. For hoping that someday, the secrets we hid would be our stories to tell. Now I just let her memories rot inside my heart, where she should be. 

I thought it would be easier when you just let it slip by but the more days that passed without seeing her, the more I feel a gnawing pain in my heart. She had sucked all my sunlight and took it all away with her. 

I want her back. 

=====================================

My Answer is You

Eleven days. It took me nine days to realize running away was a bad idea. 

When I first got off the bus, I thought the place looked familiar. Turns out, I rode the bus to my hometown, to the very south and the last bus stop until it turned around to go back to the city. 

When I appeared in front of my mom–the first time in a long time–she had immediately said, “Did something in the city?”

The moment she asked, I broke down in tears. She shushed and consoled me while I cried like a little kid. Like the way I had bawled to her when my first boyfriend broke up with me, or when my love birds died from illness, the other from loneliness. 

It feels like I would die of loneliness, Mom. I had said.

Did he really say that? Did he tell you that it’s over? She cooed.

I was embarrassed to admit to my mom that no, Shohei had never told me anything because I had shut him out even before I could give him the chance. But what if that call was already the end of it all? What if answering his call meant exactly what I had thought. That would shatter me more. 

So, no, Mom, you can call your daughter a coward but in her heart, it’s all over. 

The next forty-eight hours at home was a blur. After feeding me with what feels like a day’s worth of homemade dishes, she made me wash the dishes, clean my old room, and the living room as well. And when that wasn’t enough, she made me go with her to the night market and bought whatever seafood she could find to feed me. 

Is this what you did when Dad left? I wanted to ask her. Did you go around acting as normal while nursing a wounded heart? Did you go all through that facade just to show me that you were strong for the both of us?

She had her back to me, her hands pale and creased with age, showing signs of passage of time and her hardwork to put me to school. I know she was trying to make me busy to keep my mind off of Shohei. I’m not sure if she fully understands the scandal but she was trying her best to keep my head above the water. Probably just like how she always did. 

I wish I was strong like you, Mom. 

On the fourth and fifth day, she had let me work under the sun harvesting corn. Which I absolutely despised. I had to wear sun hats and these jumpers to cover myself from the heat. 

“It’s cheap labor for letting you stay and eat my food,” she said when I complained. “Tomorrow, you’ll help me sell these at the market.”

As the days grew idly by, I’ve grown more accustomed to rising early and eating less meat and more vegetables. I willingly went out of the sun more to do housework, like hanging clothes, watering Mom’s plants, however, I was still not willing to harvest her vegetables, which she made me do a lot. When I say a lot, it means everyday since then. 

On the eleventh morning, I woke up earlier than usual and found my mom already awake. She busied herself with a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning, mom.” I yawned, grabbing my own mug. 

“After breakfast, pack your things and go back to the city.” She said quietly.

“Huh?” I’m not sure I heard her right. Is she kicking me out?

She pushed today’s newspaper into my hands and pointed at an article. An article shows a picture of Shohei smiling at the camera, behind him was a framed candid photo of me turning my head just in time when the camera clicked, I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, a shawl draped over my shoulders, and the wind blowing my hair and covering my face slightly. Just by looking at the photo, it looked like a time when Shohei and I drove to the beach. He had brought his camera and took a lot of photos. 

The article said, “Portfolio on Love: Shohei Ohtani’s Photographs Displayed for A Cause.”

“....and when the powerhouse athlete gets a day off, he plays around his camera and takes photos of anything, everywhere. He reveals Insider Today that for the first time ever, he is displaying his portfolio to the public at the Grand City Museum starting today until the 31st of the month, with the theme of “hello, love, are you there?”

“...’I don’t know how else to define love but this. I hope when the public sees this, they will instantly know that my photographs are a reflection of my love,’ he said.

“When asked if this was a confirmation to the rumors flying around recently, he just smiled sadly and said, "I'm hoping that this answers everyone’s questions, especially hers.”

“If your face is plastered on all of the newspapers, it wouldn’t make sense to stay here longer.” Mom said after a while. She had finished her breakfast and took them away to the sink.

“It doesn’t end well if you’re too afraid, my darling.” she said, not looking at me. “To love and to be hurt is to be brave. If it doesn’t work out after facing him, then by all means. Come home. My doors are always open for you. And I will feed you rice cakes while you harvest my corn.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t a hugger but welcomed my hug and patted me on the shoulders. “Now go, before all the chismosas wake up and corners you.”

I packed my bags and left home, my heart pieced back together. It was not wrong to go home and seek shelter. What I did wrong was leaving Shohei all alone when he took most of the fall. 

Five hours, one taxi ride, and a ten minute walk later, I arrived at the city museum, nervous, anxious, feeling a little lightheaded and hesitant. I wiped my sweaty palms and got inside. 

It was not as packed as I had expected, probably because it was a little over after lunch, though there was still a relatively big crowd overall. 

When I stepped into the hall featuring Shohei’s displays, I felt a surge of emotion. It was a collection of all the photographs of his loved ones. In a black and white collection, he had photographed his parents holding hands while walking in the snow, a photo of his dog sleeping idly on his couch, a photo of the football stadium in a wide angle shot, showing Ippei and the rest of his teammates playing a warm up game before practice. 

When I turned to a corner, that’s when I saw it. There were multiple frames hanging intricately on one side, showing all of the photos he took of me. One during university days, where I was showing him a strangely large eggplant during our photo walks at the market. There was another with me looking at him angrily for reasons I couldn’t remember, and a more recent one, in the middle, where he was holding my hand while I walked forward, back facing the camera. 

On the metal plate below were words that read in cursive: “2009–present. Moments of love that I hold dear.”

At that moment, tears had started rolling down my cheek and I couldn’t help but sob. The onlookers nearby started moving away, probably weirded out by the sudden burst of emotion over some piece of art.

They weren’t just pieces of art. These were moments when Shohei and I were together and maybe realized that it was love.

By then, someone on my left offered a handkerchief and I gingerly took it, wiping my tears-strewn face. I muttered an apology for ruining the fabric.

“This is not the first time someone cried in front of my photographs. Some were absolutely heartbroken after seeing them.” a man’s voice said. And that reeled me back as I turned around and saw Shohei standing in front me.

“I knew this would lure you back,” he said, smiling.

His face was a little gaunt and tired. He had dark circles around his eyes that I’ve never seen before. I could only look at him and he looked back. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to explain but he spoke first and said:

“Did you get a tan?” he started, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I was harvesting corn!” I said, covering my face with both hands. I didn’t even have the time to put on makeup or a swab of lipstick and that’s the first thing he notices.

He took my hands and held them tightly against his chest. “No one looks this beautiful even after harvesting corn.”

“Shut up,” I said looking away.

He tipped my chin and held my face. “Let’s start again, shall we?” 

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hi, my name is Shohei Ohtani. I’m an athlete and an amateur photographer sometimes. I’ve been in love with the girl in the photographs since forever.”

I managed a smile and laced my hands around his neck. “Hi, I’m a ceramics maker and sometimes, a farmer, you should see the corn I harvest. You look so familiar. I think you look like my future boyfriend.”

His eyes perked up and laughed at our silly little game. He went in for a kiss and I obliged, feeling safe and brave in his arms.

Let them take the damn photographs and write the articles all they want, but they could never take my sunshine away ever again.