#who decided one day I had anxiety instead of. you know. allergies. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

v3nusxsky · 7 months

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So I’m like severely sick rn, with a cough, fever, allergies and all the types of bodily pain you can think of.

Would you be so kind as to write a cute little Larissa x reader sick fic? Full creatives rights to you, write what comes to you and what you like. Thank you, darling:)<3

-comet ☄️

Sweet thing

*authors note~ I’m so sorry you’re sick lovely, I know this is a bit late but I hope this is okay? Taking an kinktober break to post this! Next instalment of kink is coming to a screen near you soon ;) Can always pop me a message and tell me anything you wanna change or add! It was written on a train so it sort of inspired this :)*

Trigger warnings~ little r cg Larissa anxiety brought on by trains illness fever sickness headaches just generally feeling crap ?? Probably more tbh😂

Prompt~see ask^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You knew you felt like shit today, it hit you as soon as you were awake, coughs wracking through your body as if it was nothing more than a meet bowling pin. The headache you went to bed with was never quite leaving you. In fact it seemed to have rested and come back with a vengeance, and of course it was the one day you couldn’t deal with this. You are meant to catch a train a little before two thirty to travel to Jericho and see your girlfriend for the month. Having time off from your school due to some building work gave you the perfect opportunity to discuss your idea of moving to Nevermore to teach with the blonde principal. You were more on edge as you knew the last “Normie” teacher the school had almost tried to kill your lover, but not being with her all the time kills you. Yet this sickness seemed to have other ideas for you.

Deciding you had some time you attempted to sleep off the worst of this sickness before dosing your self up on pain medicine and dragging yourself to the train station. Only this time when you awoke, your whole body ached, your eyes leaking moisture, nose running like a tap and this ungodly cold sensation all over your body. Instinctively, you wanted to borrow under the blankets and sleep for eternity but you simply didn't have the time for that. So instead, you hauled yourself out of bed, shoving on the comfiest pair of clothes you could find before readying your tired body to leave your room.

Rushing to the train station was all blur, but some how you made it and you couldn't be more grateful that you managed to secure a seat before the train got to busy. By the first stop, the train had began to pack up and in the sick haze you swore your heart was beating so fast it could be considered a rocket with the speed it was trying to take off with. your right leg began to bounce as you felt eyes on you from every direction of the train carriage. Paranoia seeped into your bones as you felt as if you'd been dunked into flames judging by the now uncomfortable heat spreading over your skin. The earbuds you strategically place in your ears to dull the noise now seemed to be failing as your head felt ready to explode. As soon as you heard your stop being announced you could've cried with joy as you escaped the train, promising yourself that you would never put yourself through that anxiety educing activity again. Especially not alone.

The taxis for Jericho are far and few between, in fact there is not any. so you enlisted the help of Nevermore's very own troublesome raven haired student and her werewolf girlfriend. It turned out to be brilliant timing as some of the Nevermore students happened to be in Jericho shopping for the raven, so you were able to sneak onto the shuttle using your abilities to help you blend in with the other students. Thankfully Coach Vald wasn't too observant otherwise he would've surly notice the sick teenager sat between Wednesday and Eind, who clearly wasn't there before.

Arriving at Nevermore took your breath away every time, yet this time it could be argued that it was the cough that was trying to force itself free from your chest that did it. With a quick thank you to the girls and reassurance that Wednesday, Enid's and things skills your luggage would make its way to the Principles office you slipped off to find your lover. As you walked the halls of Nevermore your body was slowly giving up, the pain overwhelming you, the fever causing you to shift into a much younger version of yourself. The need to find the Principal was now at an all new high, luckily she found your things before she found you. You'd have to thank Enid for spilling what was meant to be a surprise when you felt better.

"Hello love bug" you heard from down the hall. Your momma. once you turned to face her she could see just what Enid had described. you were really sick and yet somehow made your way to Nevermore to surprise the blonde. You must have told her a later train time in hopes to surprise her. Rather adorable, but she would have to remind you that you need too look after your health when you felt better. "Momma, no feel goods" you whimpered before your little body gave out and made friends with the floor.

Scooping you up of the floor and cradling your small frame to her chest, she could feel the heat radiating from you, yet shivers racked your frame as if it was winter weather. She immediately took you back to her private chambers where she could care for you more discreetly. Being placed on her bed, you immediately wriggled over to burrow your face in her pillow before snuggling into her blankets. With a small chuckle, the blonde gently rouses you to give medicine and cool your temperature down. "No Momma, no more" you whined trying to wriggle away as much as your weak body would allow you to. "I know little love, but we have to get you feeling better don't we?" to which you nodded and reached out for the older woman to hold you. Only when you were wrapped in her arms did you feel better, "magical nuggles momma" you yawned causing a huge smile for the Principal of Nevermore, the amount of love you brought her was magical. "Only for you my love, can you tell momma how you got here when you are feeling so icky darling?"

You sleepily recounted how you made your way to Nevermore and the reason why you were so determined to get to her. Even when you were this sick, Larissa was all you could think about and need. "Wanna live momma ever an ever" you mumbled before the medicine knocked you out, snuggled onto the principals chest, your home and safe space. Larissa held you while you slept wondering how she could reprimand for needing her? she just couldn't but if you lived and worked in Nevermore then she could most definitely keep an eye on you.

Word count 1159

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #comet anon #comet club #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa cg #larissa x you #larissa #Larissa Weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #principleweemsxreader #principal weems x reader #weems x reader #Larissa Agere

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taraelghrimwilliams · 1 year

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Friends, family, random internet users who, for some reason or another, happened upon this page, welcome to my diary. Since it's hard to let every single friend know whenever something new happens in my life, I've decided to start a diary. This way, I can update those who care enough to keep updated. However, I'll still start this as I would a normal diary: by writing information about myself.

My name is Tara Elghrim Williams. I am twenty six years old, and I'm living out of my car in rural America. My only marketable skills, if you could call them as such, is my writing (which I'm told is above average despite me harshly disagreeing) and my graphic design work, which is still quite amateurish as I do it as a hobby, not a profession.

I am a trans woman who suffers from a multitude of mental health problems. Diagnosed, I have PTSD, OCD, anxiety, and depression. Through researching symptoms, I do believe that there is a possibility that I may suffer from ADD/ADHD, and it may be possible that I am also on the autism spectrum. However, as none of those have been diagnosed (due to lack of funds and insurance), I do not pretend that I definitely have any of them.

This all started around a year ago now. It was a single meme. Something about taking a bunch of Benadryl and getting high to see a shadow monster. I dismissed it as a joke, but eventually curiosity got the better of me. I got high off of them. And it uprooted my entire life.

Everything was strange. I didn't see monsters, but I felt calm. For the first time in years, I felt zen. And then I fell deeper into that high. My music was distorted. I could feel the vibrations rattling my very core. My body could barely move, I was physically unable to speak due to both my mouth being so relaxed and my mind being so, for lack of a better term, laggy. Nothing felt real anymore. It was as if I fell through reality and into a dream where existing didn't hurt anymore.

But of course, after falling asleep, I woke up to the aftermath of this kind of high. Everything was sore. Everything felt wrong. I felt wrong. I wanted to feel that way again. I had to feel that way again. So, I kept abusing allergy medication. I kept getting high behind my fiancee's back. Slowly but surely, this changed me. I became more secretive. I became distant. Eventually, I even became someone else entirely. Someone I've grown to despise.

I cheated on her. It wasn't physical, and I didn't even realize what I was doing in my drug addled state of mind. But it was true. I cheated on her. I was disgusted with myself, and planned to kill myself that same day. She gave me the older of our two cars, a kindness she didn't have to extend to me, and despite crushing her so thoroughly with my actions, she still stood by me and insisted that I go to my parents house instead of killing myself.

I wish I could have taken back the implication that I was going to end my life. Not because I wish I had gone through with it, but because she didn't deserve to have an even greater burden on her mind while going through something so devastating. Unfortunately for us both, I can't take back any of the actions I've taken, wish as I might.

That was around five months ago. Every day, the weight of my sins grows heavier upon my back. The worst part is not knowing why I truly feel this guilt. I want to believe that this guilt is because I truly regret my actions. I hurt the one person in this world that I ever saw myself marrying. The person who I would have given up everything to be with. My highschool sweetheart, my soul mate, and above all of that? My best friend.

But there's a nagging at the back of my head. Do I truly regret it? Or do I regret getting caught? Do I regret losing the woman who sacrificed so much to keep me happy and healthy because I appreciate what she did for me, or because it cost me the roof over my head? More importantly, why do I want to ease this burden of guilt? Do I truly just want her to heal from me harming her, or do I just want to feel good about myself, being able to pretend to the world that despite straying, I'm still a good person?

It kills me not being able to know.

From there, I lived with my father briefly. My stepmother was unreasonable as ever. Despite my plethora of health concerns, such as my tendency towards suicide while stressed and experiencing the most stress I've ever endured in my life, she insisted that I get a job within the month, or else I'd be kicked out. Eventually, as the aspect of holding down a job in my current mental state was unbearable and the deadline was drawing nearer, I made up a lie. I pretended to get a job to get her off of my back while I attempted to figure something else out.

My stepmother, though, is nothing if not the nosiest human being on the planet. Somehow, despite her busy schedule, she managed to find enough time to invade my privacy and snoop around where I claimed to work. She had a friend there that she asked about my employment with, which led to a massive fight.

I left that day, telling them both that I would rather die on the streets than ever live in the same house as her. Her years of mental and verbal abuse was too much for me to deal with anymore.

My plan then became to move in with a friend of mine, one who said they had the space for me and was willing to take me in. I would have to wait some time for them to figure out arrangements for me, so in the meantime, I left for Kentucky to stay with another friend temporarily.

Here, I'd like to take a small break from explaining the past to thank someone very dear to me. A friend that I'll call Sue for privacy reasons. Sue couldn't and still cannot take me in, but I absolutely would not be here today without their help. They've sent me more money and support than I could have ever expected from or asked of them. Without their help, I never would have made it to Kentucky, and I'd most certainly have died by now. If you're reading this, and I'm sure you will at some point, you really are a saint for helping me through these dark times.

I got to Kentucky without incident and met my roommates, a fellow trans woman who I'll call Jill, and a bisexual (or formerly bi turned gay? Unsure of which) man that I'll call Jack. Jack and Jill could only host be for about three-ish months, but hopefully, that would be more than enough time. I helped out with rent and groceries where I could, and as time went on, I got the bad news.

My friend who had previously offered to take me in had to rescind the offer. I don't remember if they told me what happened or if they purposefully left it vague, but I assume it had something to do with finances. Either way, that threw a wrench in my plans. A fairly large one at that. I used the rest of my time looking for a new plan while staying with Jack and Jill, and eventually contacted an old family friend. They were willing to help out! Great. I left Kentucky hopeful, but by the time I got back home, things had changed again.

An illness in the family meant money was going to be tight. And this meant that I was now living out of my car in a cold winter, mere days before Christmas, right before a blizzard was set to hit us. Thankfully, my dad was able to put me in a hotel for a little under a week, either five or six days. Long enough to wait out the negative fifty (with windchill) temperatures and the intense winter wind. During this time, my laptop charger broke, and I spent nearly half of my Christmas money getting new chargers that didn't work. Despite having charging cables that matched my port, none of them actually charged the damn thing, meaning I was now out of not only my only escape from reality, but my connection to charity organizations and government aid programs.

This last week has been one of the most eventful, as I've been rejected by one charity, found another, got pulled over by a literal saint of a police officer that helped me discover the previously mentioned charity, got to help a stranger jump their car in a gas station... Things are honestly changing so fast that its even hard for me to keep up with everything! That's all of the important bits about the past. Now, it's time to focus on the future.

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eldritch-hall-asylum · 1 year

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Elliot angst bc you deserve it (and Ciero, if consider brief mentions as a main tag)

Elliot, before he died, struggled quite a bit with depression and anxiety. He always liked relying on his twin sister to cheer him up, if only a little bit—and he always enjoyed and made sure to keep the memories he made with her whenever they’d go to the library or the town together close to his heart.

When Steven was disowned; dead to the entire family, everything with Elliot got so much worse. (1)Not even his sister could cheer him up, everything lost it’s meaning; not even the dearest memories he had with his sister made any difference to anything.

He was so caught up in work, his fathers legacy bruising his shoulders and bending his spine—the memories of what he once enjoyed, his hobbies, food, activities, everything were distant, unable to be reached.

(2)Elliot was slowly becoming a husk; he didn’t know who he was, he didn’t know who Elliot Windroe truly was. He had no taste, if he had a favourite food, it tasted of nothing, which led him down a dark hole of not doing anything but work.

Maybe, if he lived up to his fathers standards; his legacy, he’d know who he was. But instead, it got worse. (3)With constant flares of his illnesses, he was quickly becoming overwhelmed, and one day, it was simply too much.

Too, too much.

And so, with a shotgun, loss of self identity, and free will, he decided to die in his own way.

—

(1)This is also the same idea I have for Ciero, especially in his breakdown arc. (2)Just the idea of being so broken by everything that’s happened to him, most brought on by his own selfish need to help people (the idea of making other people happy for his own gain of potential/temporary happiness) and selfless way of going about it (sacrificing himself for others happiness) (this would also include Rom!Alice), that he has no idea who he is anymore, and nothing means anything.

(2)Also, I feel like Ciero would also suffer with losing taste due to depression. I think he’d lose it quite quickly, possibly after a few cases as a social worker or after everything with Alice. Which could possibly cause him to stop eating, but I don’t know.

A lot of his personality before the breakdown is fake and he only ever stopped using the fake personality after he knew that everyone knew.

(3) Elliot’s illnesses: - Anaemia - Gastroparesis - Anxiety - Depression - Asthma - Unilateral renal hypoplasia - Ehlers-danlos syndrome - PoTS - Autism (and an array of allergies (garlic, peanuts, citrus, feathers, pollen, dust))

Ciero’s Illnesses: - Autism, - PTSD&Agoraphobia - CRPS - Ehlers-danlos syndrome - Gastroparesis

...wow

This really hit me.

Yall are trying to murder me with the big sad before 10 o'clock at night. (/j)

#creepypasta #creepypasta au #creepypasta fanfic #eldritch hall au #eldritch hall #ciero windroe #splender man #splenderman #splendor man #splendorman #oc: elliot #elliot windroe #tw depression mention #suicidal thoughts tw #tw suicide mention #suicide tw

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livingwithlosingyou · 2 years

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Living with Losing You - 10/4/2022

Allergic reaction to what???

Today was an uneventful day turned eventful. The only agenda items I really had were to go to your dad’s office to work, work itself, dinner with your mom, and the suicide aftershock group.

I didn’t want to run today because the tattoo is still healing, so I just decided to start the workday early. I ended up having over 300 emails to start the day, and I was only gone for 3 days. It’s pretty intense. Your mom dropped me off at your dads office for me to work since she needed the car today. I had a very productive work day there. The only issue was the stink bugs. I started my workday in an older and unused office in the firm, and there were lots of bugs that started to come out of the woodworks. I noticed my allergies got bad while I was in there too, so I’m wondering if that triggered this fun hives situation, or maybe didn’t help with it. Anyway it was funny cause your dad would come in and kill some of them then leave (lol). We had a couple good laughs. I’m definitely a San Diegan. These KY bugs are something else. They don’t even look like the stink bugs we have back home.

I ended up staying at the office until about 3pm. I worked the rest of the time out of the conference room, which was a much better idea. Move movement, less dust and bugs, etc. instead of your mom picking me up, I decided to just drive your dad back to his house so I could have the FJ cruiser in case we both needed to go places at the same time (which ended up working out).

Before I headed back to the house, I went to visit you for the first time since I got in town. It’s always hard when I realize that I am driving through a cemetery to visit you. I know it’s real, but I hate that it’s real. I like being able to go and just sit with you by the lake. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I talk to you. I talk to you there, and I talk to you a little each day. It’s usually me just saying you would like loved something, or if I do something embarrassing I say “I bet you saw that and enjoyed that”. Those sorts of things. You really are in a beautiful spot. Lakefront property, one would say. I love you, James.

When I got back to the house, your mom and I talked for a little as I finished up working. Then, she started making this yummy easy gnocchi dish. We had been excited for it for a while now. Once it was done we quickly filled our plates. I hadn’t really eaten much today, so I was all in on this. Well, not too long after eating I started to feel just generally unwell. Lightheaded, sciatica was bad, etc. I went upstairs to shower and continued to feel awful. I got out of the shower to find that me legs had gone numb, by lips / mouth / tongue were tingly, and I was covered in hives. So, I was having a terrible reaction. I almost called for your mom, but I was able to control my anxiety, and took a couple Hydroxyzine to help with it. I really did not want to go to the ER, so I decided to just rest for the remainder of the night, and lay down. I did end up calling my parents and talking to my dad for about 40 mins. It was a mostly productive conversation. I think it’s hard to support me right now. Actually, I know that it must be. It’s hard to know what to say, and it’s impossible (unless you have gone through it too) to understand how I feel.

I am going to make this a shorter one because I am really not feeling great. I am going to try and go to urgent care tomorrow to be evaluated. Might even try and schedule an appointment through Sharp if that doesn’t work. Since I have an HMO, it can be a bit of a pain to go to the doctors out of network / state. I was on hold with Sharp for about 30 minutes. I realize that I forgot to add that previously on here. That’s just insane.

Anyway, I need to get some rest, and hopefully sleep this off. I miss my doctor, so much. You always knew how to take care of me, and were the one who made me feel heard. You also accepted me and all my ailments. I appreciated that so much. I love you and miss you, James.

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

PS I can’t post a picture of my hives because most of the blotches were on my ass. So. Here are a couple from the cemetery.

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reyphorian-art · 2 years

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Hey Azurite. Or Raven. Whichever it is you go by these days. It's been almost 8 years since I cut contact with you. I was thinking recently about how it's been 10 years since we met. I wonder if you've grown as a person in all that time, if you realized the weight of the things you did to me, the things you let be done to me by Steven. Have you treated your other partners better than you did to me? I hope so. They deserve better than what I was given. A lot has changed for me in the years. I developed c-PTSD that was officially diagnosed in 2019, around the same time I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia which developed as a direct result of the PTSD. The trauma the two of you caused me has led to me living every day in constant pain. I'm always exhausted, I'm not as active as I used to be. Some days it's a struggle to do basic self care. I have to take a lot of medications to manage the pain but they don't do much, mostly just help me sleep at night. I don't get nightmares as often as I used to. The last one was maybe 5 or 6 months ago? It's not as bad as they were several years ago when I would wake up feeling so disgusting and tainted that I needed to set myself on fire and burn into nothingness to get rid of the sensations. Now I just feel a little gross for a couple days like when a squick gets stuck in my head and comes back every so often throughout the day. I'm managing agoraphobia too, something that got so bad I had to drop out of college because I was terrified of seeing you on campus. You might remember seeing me there one day, it was in the morning and you were standing there talking to someone. I was scared of ending up in the same class as you, and when I found out you were working at the mall near my house, I felt scared of even leaving my house. It took so much to work through that to see doctors to help with the pain and depression. I could be working at a job or on a degree for college right now, but instead I live in constant pain that will never go away, because of you. Because of Steven.

It's not all bad though. I have cats. We had 3 up until recently and then accidentally adopted three more that were strays. One of them, Dart, is my baby. He's a sweet boy with anxiety and allergies like me. I came out as trans in 2015 and in 2020 I got top surgery, and I'm thinking of going on T soon. I also dated a few people, you probably remember Collin. He was good to me, gave me hope that I would find someone who loves me. There were some others, Eli, Chibi, Pidge. They were all shitty, started off really nice, I was so happy with them but they ended up emotionally neglecting me or expecting me to take care of all their problems. I came out of those relationships with knowledge of my needs and learned to be more assertive, something I struggled to do with you. When I'm hurt I don't let people try to turn it on me like I did something wrong for being honest about my feelings, something you constantly did and refused to speak to me until I begged for forgiveness. I don't let people mistreat or take advantage of me anymore.

Sometimes I think about unblocking you on my personal account, wondering if at some point you might decide to message me. Part of me hopes you will. Sometimes I think about me messaging you. I don't think I could though, just looking back on the last few messages I sent made me feel sick enough that I wanted to throw up. I don't know if talking to you at this point, after all this time would give me closure or if it would just hurt me more and open up old wounds. I hope you see this. I hope some mutual of ours shows it to you and you read what I have to say. I hope you've grown, I hope you've become a better person than you used to be, I hope you treat the people you date with respect and love. I hope someday I can fully recover from the abuse you put me through. It's slow but looking back on how things were 4 years ago, a lot has changed, the scars are healing and fading. I'm getting better each day that passes by.

#digital #aurey eden #vent

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touyasdoll · 3 years

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Early Established Relationship Shouta & Reader, but they haven’t talked about having kids yet and Reader just found out she’s pregnant. She’s worked herself up in anxiety over how Shouta will take it. This is not helped by him coming home from teaching, having had a hellish day and grumbling about “problem children” and thankful that he only has to deal with kids for a few hours.

Hearing that, Reader just… hides everything. There’s ice in her chest as she tidies up the bathroom, takes out the trash, washes up to start on dinner just. Mind blank, but her usual smile on her face (well honed practice from years of mistreatment due to having an ‘unacceptable’ quirk) as she tells him to go clean up. She’ll make a fast dinner so he can sleep and then wake him later for patrol. He’s too tired to notice anything off, thanks her with a loving smile, the soft ones only she gets, as he goes and showers, changes for a meal and a nap with his favourite girl.

And that’s how it goes. Day in, day out, feeling sick is just a bug, just extreme reaction to allergies, just bad food, etc. She kind of disassociates a lot, mind unable to process as somewhere in there she’s coming up with a plan. Obviously he won’t want to be with her, right? She should cherish these days before she starts to show. So she does.

For about two days, no matter what he says about kids he’s run into or his class — though a small voice tries to remind her that Shouta is excellent with kids, even the ones that act out and he doesn’t hate them no matter what he acts like, she knows this, but it’s drowned out by the words she’s heard him say while tired and grumpy — she cherishes the fuck out of spending more time with him. A little needy, maybe a lot, but she loves him with everything she has to give. Everything but what she keeps held back for their her child.

And then one morning Reader wakes up, showers and notices a slight bump that she knows won’t be going down. There’s ice in her chest again, but she can’t have the same reaction as last time. It won’t be good for the baby, especially if she disassociates. So she plans out her week carefully; makes a grocery list so she can make all of his favourites, makes a list of what she needs to stock up on for herself, what she can pack quickly and sensibly, looks up apartment listings so Shouta won’t feel caged or that he has to leave because it’s his apartment after all, budgets her upcoming checks and what she has in her accounts.

But she gets careless, tires out far too early, doesn’t even make it to lunch, and leaves an apartment listing ad and pregnancy clinic check-up assessment on the table as she unintentionally drifts off on the couch. (Her iron levels are a little on the low side.) On the school’s half-day, where Shouta only needed to go in for meetings and would be back by lunch. Her stealthy as fuck boyfriend, who she never hears come in, but certainly sees her wearing one of his shirts and having fallen asleep in the middle of…..something. It doesn’t look like one of the analysis notebooks she uses for her freelance job as an analyst. Huh.

He’s curious, nosy maybe, but that’s a hero trait. You would’ve made good hero, if everyone hadn’t made it nigh impossible for you before you broke away from your past and headfirst into analysis. You aren’t bitter, but he can be so enough for both of you. You deserve the best, in his eyes, but he’s selfish so he’s going to keep you for himself. Now if he just steps closer to get a look at what’s on the table…..

Hey so I made myself go full on fucking ugly crying and decided to share for anyone’s thoughts or added writing contributions. :D

All I can think of to add is that:

Shouta is not letting Reader get away from him, from this misunderstanding no matter how he has to do it. (He’ll probably start by shredding that apartment add with his bare hands, though.)

Shouta feels like the biggest fucking idiot for missing all the signs and not taking better care of you like you deserved, kid or no kid behind it all. (TBH you’ve been carrying their family — not that either of you have said it but that’s what you have — since you moved in. If it was left up to him the entire building would’ve somehow collapsed.)

He’s gonna add some more bitterness to the “my girlfriend could’ve been a heroine but people are assholes” fund because she managed to hide a whole ass pregnancy from him completely for who knows how long while other Pros can’t even hide their favourite colours. (Most can’t even hide their lack of genuine civilian safety oriented tactical knowledge, which is just sad, in his opinion. Then again, he is very judgmental of other heroes abilities.)

He may or may not quickly realize why Reader hid the news. And may or may not feel even worse. Because having a kid with you? That’s a dream he didn’t want to let himself have, not yet. Not until after he proposed and settled into his teaching job more, at least. (Better find a ring soon. Even if it’s a Studio Ghibli’s Catbus themed one — it’ll do.)

💜

Oh God. Oh God, wait. Option 2 though, right? My brain wants more angst, go figure.

Ahahah this gets a little sad, sorry. But my contribution is under the cut ❤️‍🩹

Warnings: panic attack, mental breakdown, pregnancy, medical

What if his initial reaction is to be angry? Like he’s reading it just as you’re waking up and you gasp, trying to explain, but he’s already raising his voice, demanding to know how you could have kept something like this from him for so long?

He’s not even upset with you. He’s really just upset that he didn’t even notice. Like you said, he feels like a fucking idiot. He wanted to be there for you through all of this. He wanted all the cute cheesy pregnancy bliss that other couple go through. The first appointment. First sonogram. Telling your friends and family together.

And you’re looking for another apartment? For all of you? No, the place is already plenty big enough. Were you going to leave? He’s beating himself bloody inside, cursing himself for not being more attentive to you. You could have slipped right through his fingers. You and that little miracle inside of you that he already feels so attached to.

And he’s just so disappointed with himself that he misplaces those intense emotions and lashes out at you. He’s never once raised his voice to you, but he can’t control himself in his state and he does. He starts barking about why you never told him, demanding to know why you didn’t come to him, pressing you about how long and why and where you were going to go and he just gets so worked up that he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, he’s just screaming and there’s hot tears and he can’t breathe anymore. He’s having a panic attack for the first time in who knows how many years and he just keeps kicking himself, because now after all that, you’re looking at him with concern and tending to his needs once again, instead of him having the strength to be there for you in what is obviously your time of need. He feels selfish and stupid and starts wondering if maybe why you didn’t say anything is because you were really going to leave, because you know that he can’t even properly take care of you, let alone a child.

#oof I’m so sorry I love angst tho #like ahhh the potential for this story #just mootin’ it up 💕#grae💕#graemoon #Aizawa angst #Aizawa x reader #tw pregnancy #tw medical #Aizawa #tw panic attack #tw mental breakdown

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catzula · 3 years

Text

(Don't) Let me be the judge of that

a/n: enemies to lovers w Osamu. Nothing more to say.

genre: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers au, fem!reader

warnings: Osamu being an ass in the beginning, swearing, mentions of social anxiety, 5.6k

《Synopsis: Osamu Miya is too judgemental for his own good, never accepting he's simply wrong. You're here to change that.》

Osamu Miya had a habit of judging people. It would take him one look and a few seconds to decide whether he liked someone or not, the answer often being the latter. But the worst part was just how stubborn and maybe a bit self-centered Osamu was. He trusted himself a little too much, and it was impossible to change his opinion of someone after he had made up his mind, and if he didn't like someone, that was it, he would never grow to like them.

Or so everyone -including Osamu himself- thought until you entered his life.

You weren't surprised to feel the brown pair of eyes looking your way when your professor announced the project was in pairs. "Decide on your partners until the end of the hour and give me a list of the groups." He told the class and leaned back in his chair.

"Y/N!" You heard him before you saw him, a mop of bleached blond hair coming into your view right after. "Hi, Atsumu." You offered him a smile as you pocketed your phone, tilting your head when he frowned in response. "I already told you, Y/N, it's 'Tsumu to you!"

"Why?" You sighed annoyedly. Having had the conversation once before, you knew damn well he wouldn't stop until you did what he wanted, but you still chose to resist.

"Because," the boy whined, "it's a sign of our friendship. Only my friends and 'Samu call me that, and I want you to call me by my nickname, too." You chose not to talk about how he excluded his twin from his friends, knowing that would only lead to another argument.

"Who even came up with this stupid name? It doesn't make any sense, it's only one syllable shorter, and it's even harder to say!" Atsumu's warm-brown eyes narrowed. "It's not stupid!" He protested, pouting until you gave up.

"Okay, okay, whatever. 'Tsumu-kun. There, happy?"

"Tsumu." The blond corrected with a grin.

"Kun." You added (to rile him up)

"Only Tsumu, goddammit! We're close enough."

"Are we, though? We only know each other for... what? A week?"

"A month!" Atsumu gasped as he corrected you. "And it doesn't matter how long we know each other, okay? It's a matter of how well we connect." His frown got deeper when you made a face, muttering something about him being cheesy, so he decided to switch strategies.

"But you always call me by my name when we're alone, Y/N-chan." Words spoken as flirtatiously as possible, Atsumu never missed the chance to tease you.

"A-atsumu, what the fuck, don't make it sound weird!" You exclaimed, already aware of the murmurs starting to spread around the room and the eyes turning on you both.

"There we go," Atsumu grinned when he heard his name falling from your lips, "wasn't that hard, was it?"

"You just had to be a little shit." You sighed, and his grin only spread wider. "I am a little shit, aren't I? Thank god I'm handsome. Anyway, I'm writing our names down."

"It feels like we're getting married, seeing our names standing next to each other like this." He sighed, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corner of his eyes as he handed the paper to the person sitting behind you. You heard someone gasp at his words, and you never wanted to hit someone with a chair this much in your life.

"Shut the hell up!" You whisper-yelled, only feeling your anger growing when he sent you an innocent look. "What? I'm just saying-"

"I swear to god," You flared, "I'll tell everyone that one time you ran out of the library screaming when you saw a cockroach if you don't shut up." His grin disappeared as soon as you spoke the words, eyes widening and mouth shutting.

"You promised to never talk about it!" You had to admit that it did feel powerful to see him so panicked, face flushed, the sleazy look that was almost always in his eyes nonexistent and replaced with something similar to fear.

"It's up to you wether I talk about it or not." You shrugged.

~~~

"Woah, you look tired." You heard a familiar voice say as he plopped right next to you on the bench, holding a homemade bento in his hands, wrapped too neatly to be made by him.

"And whose fault is that?" You muttered, trying to conceal your murderous intent towards him. Even just thinking about your day gave you headaches. You groaned when he shrugged, focusing on unwrapping the bento box. "Yours, idiot!"

"What did I d-" You winced when he spoke after taking a big spoon of rice and showing you everything that was in his mouth.

"Your fans wont let me be! Ever since we started hanging out, it's almost like I'm being harassed."

"That's not necesarrily my fault." Atsumu shrugged, proceeding with another bite of his food.

"It is, actually. I know you like to tease me, but if you keep saying shit like 'oh look our names together, feels like we're getting married' or that fucking 'you call me by my name when we're alone' you make it worse! You know how many people came up to me and asked if we were sleeping? One even asked me if we were engaged! We've known each other for two weeks, for god's sake!"

"A month." Atsumu corrected, shutting up when you sent him a look. "That's not even the worst part. Whenever I don't give an answer, or the answer they want to hear from me, people start to-"

They started to get mean. Some even insulted you without batting an eye, speaking of how you weren't even pretty, that you had to be sleeping with Atsumu to be near him, and many fucking more.

"What?" He asked. "People started to what?" You knew he could sense how tense you were starting to get, but you always started to fight with him whenever he asked if people were bothering you, never answering his question, despite the answer being obvious.

"Nothing, its just frustrating." You shrugged, taking a bite out of your meal to stop yourself from talking -or crying-.

"Look, I can guess what's going on." Atsumu sighed, "and the only reason I can think of of you not telling me what's happening is that you don't want me to interfere, but you should tell them to piss off, already." He advised you the same stupid sentence he had been advising the past few days, ever since he noticed how his fans acted towards you.

"Yeah, thanks for the advice, jackass. It would be easier if you stopped being so extra." You muttered into your cup full of coffee, feeling a tinge of guilt, putting the whole blame on him and not admitting you probably should tell people to mind their business already.

But you just weren't the type of person that was comfortable with talking to people you didn't know or know well enough, and you certainly weren't going to tell people to 'piss off' so comfortably.

You gulped when he sighed. "Okay, sorry, you're right, and I went overboard. But I gotta go to training now. It'll end around 5 p.m, so come to my place at 6?" He raised to his feet as he took one last sip of his drink when he finished his food.

"And if anyone asks you if we're married again, you have my permission to say yes." He grinned, patting your hair twice before you rolled your eyes, but couldn't stop a giggle from escaping your lips. "Oh, thank you, gracious lord." You cried out dramatically, scoffing when he pinched your cheek. "Exactly."

~~~

"I'm going into shower." Atsumu announced as Osamu shuffled through the fridge.

"And?" The grey-haired twin asked from the fridge without pulling back, locating the eggs, and taking some out. "Do you want my help or something?

He expected an equally sarcastic comment from his brother, lifting his head as he closed the door of the fridge. "Cook for 3 today, a friend's coming over." He heard him say instead.

"A friend?" Osamu quirked his brow, ready to laugh given the punchline, but it never came.

"Yep." His twin answered instead, popping the p like some idiot middle schooler. "She's nice, you'll like her." He grinned, and Samu was already sure that wouldn't be the case. "Is this the girl ya can't stop talking about?"

Osamu couldn't say he wasn't interested since it was rare to see his brother drawn to anything but himself and volleyball, especially not to a girl. And judging by how Atsumu spoke about you, it was evident he had a particular liking to you.

The smug grin on Atsumu's face gave Osamu his answer, to which he grimaced. "don't wanna hear a fucking sound."

"She's coming over to study, you pervert! We have a project together."

"Yeah, whatever, I said what I said." Osamu shrugged, turning his back to Atsumu and started to chop the vegetables, unable to shake off the unlucky feeling pooling in his stomach.

~~~

"Oi, shit-head, does yer friend have any allergies or somethin'?" Osamu knocked on the bathroom door that had steam coming from the gap beneath it. He waited as Atsumu closed the water. "Eh, I'm not sure."

"Yer not sure? How long do you even know her?"

"A month." Atsumu answered, turning the water back on. A month? It wasn't like Atsumu didn't get close to a girl he knew for such a short time, but Osamu had never, ever seen Atsumu bring a girl home.

"Hurry up, already, what the hell are you even doing in there?!" Osamu shouted, knocking on the bathroom door and holding back an urge to kick down the door when he heard the happy humms of his brothers.

"Oi, idiot, I'm telling you- goddammit." He clenched his teeth when he heard the doorbell.

"Hurry up or you're not eating." Osamu knocked one last time before he rushed to the door to let you in.

He opened the door without thinking of opening the lights as well, and since it was well after the sun had set, he couldn't see what you looked like, but he knew he wasn't expecting- well, you.

You were bent forward, trying to undo the messy knot your shoelaces had formed when the door opened. Sending a glance at the silhouette standing at the door, you turned your attention back to untying the mess your shoes were.

"Hey, Atsumu." You muttered without taking another look, assuming it was Atsumu who had greeted you. You didn't see how Osamu's face soured, dark-grey eyes narrowing at your form with some hostility he couldn't help.

In your defense, the light wasn't on, and you hadn't taken a good look at the boy standing before you, so it wasn't exactly your fault for not realizing it was Osamu, right?

No.

Strike one.

Osamu hated when people mixed him with Atsumu. Did they not see the bright platinum gray hair, clearly different from his twins piss colored one? Osamu hadn't dyed his hair for the sake of looking nice, and he certainly hadn't sat in the hairdresser for hours long just to get mixed up with his twin again.

You had noticed your mistake as soon as you stood up and looked at the tall figure staring at you, leaning on the door frame and his arms tied on his chest almost defensively. "O-oh," Osamu heard you mutter softly, not sure as to why your voice sent goosebumps down his arms. "You're not Atsumu."

The somewhat disappointed tone of your voice made him furrow his brows. The smile you had on your lips dropped as soon as you locked eyes with the grey ones, familiar yet strange, and Osamu could feel himself getting more irked by the second.

The truth was, you weren't exactly disappointed, mostly embarrassed and a little surprised, although the unsatisfied look his eyes held kept making you even more nervous. He waited as your eyes wandered over his face, over the scowl resting on his lips, looking so mean and hostile, you found yourself taking a defensive step away from him.

"I- uh," Osamu's scowl didn't move an inch when you forced a smile at him, and you checked the time on your phone to break the eye contact. "Atsumu told me to come by at 6, and... is he- is he home?"

"Yeah," The boy talked for the first time, and you noticed how his voice was deeper than his twin's. It was nicer, too, you thought. "He's in the shower, though he should be-"

"Y/N, you're here!" You heard the twin you were familiar with speak your name, standing in the entrance, hair still wet and dripping with excess water.

"Don't get cocky, I'm here for the project." You rolled your eyes with fake annoyance, unsuccessful at hiding your smile. Osamu felt something in him shift as he watched the change in your demeanor, feeling- what, jealous?

"You met 'Samu?" Atsumu approached you, not missing the tension hanging in the air. "Y/N, this is the inferior twin, 'Samu, as you can also tell. And 'Samu, this' Y/N." He introduced you, making you laugh awkwardly, but Osamu kept his glower.

"Don't mind him, he can be an asshole sometimes." Atsumu whispered at you, which anyone even passing by outside the house could hear. "Look at who's talking." You told him with a snarky quirk of a brow, making Atsumu frown. "Mean."

The blond pulled you towards the living room, making you settle on the couch and plopping next to you. Osamu caught the glance you sent his way when he didn't sit, leaning against the wall that was across you, instead, and you found he still had that frown that seemed to be imprinted on his face.

Osamu's frown was deepening on his lips at how comfortable you looked next to Atsumu, the friendly banter you had the exact opposite of how uncomfortable you looked next to Osamu. Maybe it was the natural competitiveness that came with having a twin, but Osamu hated this feeling. Why couldn't you smile at him like that, too? Yeah, maybe he was acting like a dick, but wasn't Atsumu also?

"Go dry your hair, idiot, you'll get sick!" Osamu heard you tell his twin, watching you hit him with the nearest pillow. "Hm?" Atsumu turned to you with a grin, leaning towards you for easy access to his hair. "I thought ya could do it for me?"

Osamu watched you with interest as you glared at his twin with annoyance. "I hope you get sick." You narrowed your eyes at him. "If you keep this attitude around other people, I'll kick you."

"Alright, alright, I won't flirt with ya when other people are around." Atsumu grinned, and Osamu felt his appetite vanishing. "I'll just leave." He muttered to himself, closing the door behind him just after hearing your answer to his twin.

"Don't flirt with me, ever?"

You had spoken it with such genuine annoyance that if you had listened closely, you could hear Osamu laughing from the other side of the door.

So, the meeting with his twin was anything but successful.

Osamu was very blunt with how much he hadn't liked you, his glare reminding you of the ones Atsumu had whenever his fans approached him, cold and cruel.

Grey was clearly the superior choice, though, that you found yourself thinking as you gazed at the blond. "What? Lost in my handsomeness?" Atsumu teased you when he noticed you weren't paying attention to the project. You had to hold yourself back physically before you said something along the lines of how his twin was hotter, but you knew he wouldn't talk to you ever again, so you shut your mouth and took the teasing.

Luckily, Osamu was barging through the door before Atsumu could continue, bored-looking eyes finding you two where he had left you. "Dinner's ready." He told you and left the room.

"Food," Atsumu salivated, jumping on his feet the moment he heard his brother, ready to sprint to the kitchen. You shuffled awkwardly in your place when you felt his warm-brown gaze on you, expecting you to stand up, as well, and eat.

"I- uh," you muttered. "I'm not really hungry, and I ate before I came here." Lies. "Can't we just finish this project instead?"

Strike two.

Just as he started to think you weren't horrible, Osamu gasped from the other side of the wall when he heard you (the walls were thin), his teeth clenching in annoyance. Really? Did you prefer doing a fucking project over his food? The food he had cooked?

Osamu was never a forgiving person, but this- this was something he could never forgive, he decided on the spot.

"Oh, come on, stop bein' a baby." Atsumu told you, pulling you by your hand on your legs, he knew you well to understand you were hesitating to go there because of his brother. Or more as he was making you nervous and you would rather not eat than go in his presence. "Osamu's the best cook around, you'll see." He joked so you could relax a little, making you giggle nervously.

Strikeout.

Osamu flinched at the words, eyes narrowing on you as you entered the kitchen. Did you doubt his abilities?

You thanked the boy as he placed your plate in front of you, steaming hot food, smelling so good that you wanted to bury your face in it, but the grey gaze hovering over you was making you so nervous that it made it impossible for you to take even a small bite.

"Do ya like it?" Atsumu asked you, noticing how you were nudging the food with your fork without eating. You flinched in your place, your friends' voice pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality, to which you mustered a smile and nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, it's- it's delicious. Thank you." You turned back to Osamu, who scoffed at your words, causing you to frown.

You could tell he didn't like you one bit, even though you weren't sure as to why, but you discarded the thought. He was free to like or dislike you, which, in this case, was the latter, though it stung a little since you thought he seemed nice when- well, when he didn't frown at you.

He seemed like the type you would either get along or hate mutually.

He had obviously chosen the latter, and both Atsumu and you could feel the almost hateful air coming from Osamu as he glanced at you with a disinterested, blank face. "Did ya have a bad day or something, 'Samu?" Atsumu broke the silence, and you felt like you could finally take a breath. "You look like someone kicked ya in the nuts."

"Fuck off, 'Tsumu."

"Nah, you've been acting like a dick all day. What's with ya today?"

"I said fuck off!" Osamu warned his twin another time, this time successfully silencing the blonde.

"Thank you," You broke the awful silence that followed Osamu's voice. "The food was delicious." You told him after you finished your food. You could still feel his gaze over you as you placed your plate in the sink and retreated to the living room.

"Your brother didn't like me very much, did he?" Osamu heard you mutter to his brother after he had left, too, feeling a fracture of guilt in his chest as he caught the disappointment in your voice.

"It's just... 'Samu. Don't worry about it." Atsumu told you, closing the door behind you.

Osamu was hesitant to knock on the living room door.

It had been about two hours since you had gone in, and knowing his brother- he couldn't be sure as of what's to happening.

"Oi, 'Tsumu!" He barged in the room, discarding the thoughts before he gave up.

"Shut up." Atsumu whispered, eyes lifting from his phone screen for a second and glancing at you. You, who was lying on the sofa and- sleeping?

"She fell asleep." Atsumu grinned at his brother's questioning gaze. "I'll carry her back to the car. Can you drive her home?"

Osamu didn't hold back his snicker when Atsumu's voice dropped volume as he asked the favor from his brother, still not able to admit to himself the defeat.

"Your hair is still wet, idiot," Osamu mumbled, his eyes wandering over your figure. "And I will not take care of you if you go out and get sick."

"What?" Atsumu grinned mockingly. "Are you gonna carry her then? Be a hero for the girl you've been acting like an ass all day? What the fuck was up with you today?"

"I don't like her." Osamu shrugged.

"She's not the kind of girl you think of her as." Atsumu quickly responded, already aware of what his twin had decided about you. Atsumu knew Osamu too well, his stubbornness even more, so he wasn't exactly surprised when he shrugged.

"Let me be the judge of that, and I don't have to like her."

"Whatever, you do you. But you know, you don't have to dislike her just because she's my friend, too."

Osamu stood silent, eyes falling back on you. He knew Atsumu was partly right, but he had his reasons not to like you, right? Osamu pocketed his car keys, nodding at his twin and lifting you off the couch.

Atsumu grinned at the audible gulp his twin took when you shifted uncomfortably in Osamu's arms, snuggling your body closer to him, your hand fisting his shirt unconsciously.

You woke up with Osamu hovering over you, and it took you a second or two to notice you were in a car and he was tying your seatbelt. He was so close, yet so careful not to touch you, his smell -a different perfume than his brother's- filling your newly awakened senses with him, him, him. Your eyes met his when he tied it and pulled back, a brow quirking up as his frown settled on his lips.

"Did I wake you up?" He muttered as he retreated to his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he fixed his mirror, pushing back the few stray strands back from his face. Osamu turned back to you when you stood quiet, a sarcastic smile quirking his lips upwards, but it fell as soon as you talked.

"Wh- uh, where's Atsumu?"

Osamu clenched his teeth, not knowing why it angered it so much that his twin was the first thing that came to your mind as soon as you woke up.

"Home." Osamu gritted through his teeth. "I'm dropping you home, 'Tsumu gave me the address."

He glanced at you when you stood silent. "He doesn't have a license." Osamu couldn't help but add, a feeling stirring in him when you laughed at that. "So he failed the exam and you passed? That must've been a blow on his ego."

"Oh, you have no idea." Osamu found himself laughing with you.

Silence. He could feel your growing anxiety, and you could tell he was nervous as well, the taps of his fingers on the stirring wheel echoing in the car. His hair reflecting the colors coming from the road, yellow, red, and green, the features of his face illuminated, you thought he looked too handsome to be true.

"Why are you friends with him?" Osamu blurted out after a few seconds of silence, but the question didn't seem to surprise you. "Why is anyone friends with anyone?" You teased.

"Atsumu isn't exactly the type people wanna be friends with."

"Hm," he heard you humm thoughtfully, not answering the question. "If we're asking questions, well, here's one. Why don't you like me?"

He could feel your light gaze on him as he kept his eyes on the road. It wasn't if he liked you or not, but you asked him why. He found himself wondering where that annoying meak girl he had met inside went. "And you don't like me."

"No," you answered honestly, which he found amusing. "You're mean."

"And 'Tsumu isn't?"

He turned to you when you shrugged. "Well, Atsumu is, too. But there is a difference, you know."

"And what is that?"

"He's a naturally mean person." You explained as if it made perfect sense. "He's just mean, he doesn't try to be meaner or nicer. You, on the other hand," you looked at him. "I don't think you're naturally mean, not as much as him, at least. I think you're purposefully being mean, and thats why I don't like you."

You met his eyes when Osamu turned his eyes from the road to you when the car stopped at the red light, grey eyes glistening with reds and yellows from the road. Your eyes followed the small smile that appeared on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from thinking how soft they looked. How much more handsome he looked with a smile, even with one as cruel as he had now.

"I just don't like you." He told you with as much spite as possible, not sure why he was deliberately trying to hurt you. His brows furrowed when you laughed at his answer, instead.

"You certainly aren't the first."

"What does that mean?" He asked without missing a beat, the tension now almost solidifying in the air. His heart was hammering in his chest, eyes watching your smiling lips as he waited for your next words, your chest heaving in sync with his, and you were so close, so close that if he leaned even just a little-

"You only met me today, Osamu-kun." He felt goosebumps climbing his back as he heard his name from your lips for the first time. "You know me for what, a few hours at most, and here you are telling me you just don't like me." The cynical tone of your voice made him send you a glare, his hands working over the gear when the red illuminating the car turned green.

"People like you do this a lot, you know. Judge people by one or two mistakes they do, not even anything major, but things you don't like, and deem them unworthy of your time. And how much I hate it when they boast about it, too. What, do you think you're so perfect? Don't you ever make any mistake?"

"People like me?" Osamu repeated, uncharasterically silent after all those words you had spat. "Yeah, shallow people." You answered, but you weren't looking at him anymore as you tapped the window instead. "We're here."

You were silent as he stopped the car, pulling to the side, and watched you open the door. "You know," he finally spoke, rolling down his window before you were too far. "You say I judge people so quickly, but you did a full-blown analysis just now, and you say I'm the one to judge quick?"

"Tell me, Osamu." You bent forward a little, leveling your face with his. "If you can promise me that you didn't think, ah, I know this type of girl, even once tonight, I'll take it all back and apologize to you."

You smiled when he stood quiet.

"Goodnight, Osamu. Thank you for the ride." You told him before walking back to your house.

"Ya know, with the amount of time you spend here, you may as well move in." Osamu told you gruffly, eyeing you from his side of the couch. Your eyes followed him as he took a bite out of his food, adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"I'll move in as soon as you leave." You answered with a fake smile, turning your eyes away from his as soon as you realized you were staring, hoping he hadn't noticed, but he had.

"Yer sure ya want me to leave?" He quirked a brow at you, making you grimace. "Never been more sure."

It had been about a month since you met Osamu, and it was like this ever since. Osamu never missed the chance to take a jab at you, or he couldn't sleep. You never backed down from it either, the fights going back and forth until either Atsumu got bored and pulled you away or one of their friends called you out.

You didn't enjoy it like they thought you did. In fact, it was getting tiring and annoying, but you couldn't stop yourself from taking a jab at Osamu whenever he shot you a remark.

He looked at you when you sighed, brows quirking up in a silent question. "When's Atsumu gonna be here?"

Atsumu had told you to come to his place that day, telling you he would be there in a few minutes after you and he had something to do, but as always, he was late at least an hour, and you were now stuck with his brother.

"I'll just go home and meet you up later." You had told the blonde, but he had insisted you stay.

"Have you ever seen 'Tsumu come somewhere not at least two hours late? I bet he won't be here for at least an hour more." Osamu chuckled. "I'm hungry." He added right after, eyes finding yours.

"And? You need me to cook?" You snickered, not expecting him to stay silent, looking at you for a few more seconds and rolling his eyes as he turned around and went to the kitchen.

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the antic. Surely Osamu wasn't- he wasn't asking you if you wanted something, was he?

"At least open a movie or something as we wait." Osamu muttered from the kitchen.

"Do you have something on mind?" You asked, feeling weird at how soft he suddenly was acting. "No, pick one."

"Okay," you muttered to yourself, emphasizing the 'o'. You thought of opening a volleyball match, Atsumu always liked it when you did, and maybe he would- no, why were you even thinking of what he would like? He told you to open whatever, hadn't he?

Still, despite reasoning with yourself, you were jittery as you opened a random comedy show from Netflix. Trying to focus your thoughts on the show playing, you did your best not to think about the silver-haired boy inside, failing miserably by how your mind wandered to him and the odd way he was acting today.

"Say, ya never gave me an answer as to why yer friends with 'Tsumu." He entered the room, carrying a tray with two plates and forks inside. The crooked smile on his lips was making your heart beat twice as fast, even though you didn't want to admit it, and the way he focused on holding the tray on balance, the slight crease between his furrowed brows. Osamu Miya was too handsome for his own good.

"Thanks," you muttered half-heartedly as you took the plate from him, not even aware it was an olive branch he was sticking out. Osamu's face fell when you didn't spare him or his food another look. "You never gave me an answer of why you don't like me, so I guess we're even." You laughed, smile wavering when he didn't laugh along.

He sighed, eyes glancing at you and then back at his hands. It made you antsy, making you feel like something was wrong.

"You chose this to watch?" He turned back to the not answering you. He shifted in his place when you hummed, "I can change it i fyou want." The way he hadn't made fun of your choice of the movie yet, was too uncharacteristic of him.

"No, its okay." He answered instead, ending the conversation -if you could even call this one. You ate in silence, tv playing in the background, though neither of you cared of it, your gaze meeting now and then until you couldn't take it.

"What is wrong with you?" You couldn't help but blurt out, turning the TV off and facing him. You watched him as he quirked his brow up, looking at you questioningly even though he knew what you meant.

"What is wrong with me?" He repeated.

"Why are you being nice?"

He turned back to face the tv after a beat of silence, looking somewhat... shy? What the-

"Wh-what was that?" You asked when he mumbled something, the answer so silent that it was inaudible. "I said," Osamu repeated, eyes still focused on his plate. "You told me you didn't like me because I- uh, I was rude."

His voice was still uncharacteristically quiet, but this time you heard him loud and clear. That didn't mean you understood it, though.

"What do you mean?" He heard you ask, your voice laced with something resembling suspicion, you scoffed when he stood quiet, standing up to your legs and picking your plate off from the table. "If you're trying to tell me you want me to like you, I'm not buying it."

"You're not buying it?" He repeated, mirroring your movements and standing up, making you realize how much taller he was than you. The way he was looking at you- what was it, hurt? No, it couldn't be. Anger would be more like it.

"Is there no way of winning with you?" He asked, following you to the kitchen and placing his plate a little too roughly on the counter. "You say you don't like me because I'm rude. I try to be nice and you fucking ask me what's wrong with me? What do you want me to do, disappear?"

Now, there was no denying that Osamu was, indeed, hurt, as his face soured when you stood quiet, staring at him blankly at his question. "So you hate me this much." He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know why you expected me to like someone who has been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met." You shrugged, but a part of you wanted to tell him it was a lie, and despite everything that you- well, you liked him.

The glare he sent your way was enough to make you choke on the breath you took, taking a step forward to you, close enough for you to feel dizzy with his scent.

"Well, that concludes it, I guess. This was stupid, anyway." Osamu muttered, but he was so close- so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating from him, your eyes fixated on his lips, and if you just leaned forward- a few millimeters was all there was.

"What was- what was stupid?" You whispered, noticing his gaze was also wandering on your lips. Your heart suddenly started thundering in your chest, and you couldn't even ask yourself what's happening? What are you doing?

"This," Osamu breathed against your lips, his gaze so intense over you that it sent chills down your spine. He finally leaned forward, doing what you wanted but couldn't do, the word "apologizing," being the last thing you hear before you felt his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, nothing similar to how you thought Osamu would kiss -not that you had thought on it, or so you told yourself-, this kiss was deeper, irrational, amazing.

"Do you always apologize to people by kissing them?" You asked when he pulled back, smirking at the way your chest heave, feeling a tinge of pride at how breathless he had left you.

"Hm?" He hummed, not wiping that damn smirk off of his face, it even grew wider when he noticed you pressing your fingers on your lips, still in shock, "I don't apologize to people."

It was true.

No one had ever seen Osamu Miya change his opinion about something, about someone. He would never admit he was wrong yet apologize.

But here he was, standing before you -just as breathless as you were- apologizing.

"Maybe you should apologize more." You told him with a sly smile, to which he happily complied.

"I wanted to make peace." He told you, sitting on the couch right beside you, refusing to look at you, though. "I've been trying to act nice for a while now, but you seem to- you don't like that."

"A while?" You repeat. "You were never nice to me!"

"I was trying." His brows furrowed at your protest. "But you always had something snarky to say, and I couldn't just stay silent, could I now?"

"But- what? You were always the one who started them!"

"Was I?" He asked, giving you the time to think, watching your face in disbelief fall into a look of 'fuck, he's right.'

It was you who started the fights, despite thinking it was him all this time. Upon recognizing that, you started to see the times he actually was nice to you, which you had always discarded or turned a blind eye.

Biting your lip guiltily, your turned to him. "I might... owe you an apology." You muttered, very aware of how his eyes glinted, gaze falling back on your lips. "Well," he told you, smiling. "I can't disagree."

#osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu miya x y/n #osamu miya x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x imagines

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you.

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff.

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?”

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands.

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #first dates w/ avengers #💛🧭

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 3 years

Text

Five Thousand Miles

Warning: Angst, descriptions of covid patients’ suffering, hospitals

A/n: I researched a lot about what covid patients go through in a hospital and their treatments but still took a couple creative liberties so I apologise if the descriptions aren’t accurate. Do tell me how you liked it!

Summary: Y/n tests positive for covid-19 and has to be hospitalised. Her boyfriend, Harry is five thousand miles away from her.

“Harry, I’m scared,” Y/n confessed as she readied herself, struggling with wearing her mask and gloves while also balancing her phone to continue talking to her boyfriend on FaceTime.

“It’ll be alright, you are taking every precaution you can. Plus, you have to get out of the house sometime, you can’t survive on air alone. Trust me, baby, you can do this.”

Harry’s voice was keeping her grounded, she wanted to continue talking to him but knew it would be impossible to shop and talk to him at the same time, so she nodded at him, “You’re right. Okay, I’ll call you when I get back. Safely.”

Taking a deep breath, she went out the door to a world of germs, people, and newly acquired viruses.

Being in the middle of a pandemic alone wasn’t her favourite situation to be in. It felt better when she had company, people who would help her buy the essentials. As soon as situations eased up a bit, her quarantine partners left New York to be with their families. She was all alone now.

Looking at all the empty streets, Y/n was left with a weird sensation. The city that never slept had never been quieter. She was so used to being woken up by car horns and car alarms in the morning that during the first few weeks of lockdown, she found it hard to wake before noon. This quiet was almost poetic, like the stuff of post-apocalyptic films. Y/n wasn’t sure if the silence comforted her or terrified her.

There were more people in the store than she had expected, though all in their masks, she breathed in relief. She went straight to the personal hygiene section, remembering the most important item on her list, only to find that the store was all out of toilet papers, the one thing films didn’t guess would be a big problem. She rolled her eyes at the selfish people who had panic-bought more stuff than they would have needed.

She tried every store near her neighbourhood, and eventually was able to get the last set in the final shop she visited. Tired from driving all over the city in search of toilet papers, she went to the check-out line to finally buy her stuff.

Standing in her place, Y/n noticed the people in the store, few whose foreheads were furrowed, their eyes darting around making sure they were maintaining the mandated distance from others, panic evident on their mask-covered faces. Some others appeared plain bored. Already used to the new routine and just wanting to get it over with.

She was so lost her observations, she almost didn’t hear it, the woman behind her in the line coughed loudly, making people jump farther apart than the required six feet.

“It’s just allergies,” the woman announced in a nasal voice, rolling her eyes at people’s reaction.

As Y/n’s turn came at the check-out counter, she found herself frozen to the ground, she didn’t know why but the cough threw her off. It felt weird to react the way she did, but she could not make herself move. She was nervous. She wanted to laugh at herself for feeling this way because of a measly cough, but it wasn’t so simple and right now all she felt was fear.

“Oh for god’s sake,” the woman moved forward, pushing her aside and placed her items at the counter. Even the employee there seemed wary, but knew he had to comply to keep his job.

It was only after the woman left, was Y/n finally able to move, she shook her head as if to shake the incident away from her mind and finally paid for her items.

She ran all the way home, even though she knew she shouldn’t have. She couldn’t help herself, she just wanted to move away from the public and into the safety of her home as soon as she could.

As she entered her house, Y/n felt her chest tighten, as though someone was sitting on it, she couldn’t breathe properly. It felt like she was breathing through a squished straw.

In between her wheezing, she searched around for her inhaler in her side bag. She felt her breath coming back a few seconds after she breathed in the medicine. She fell to her knees in exhaustion and took in a few more breaths to calm down.

She then picked herself up and embarked on an extensive set of tasks- Taking off her gloves and mask, removing her shoes at the entrance of her house, washing her hands. But, this somehow didn’t seem enough to her, so she went ahead and took another shower, just to be extra sure.

While in the shower, she cursed her asthma. It wasn’t usually a big hurdle in her life, but now, everything was a hundred times worse. This was the first time she had feared for her life. Her anxiety was at an all-time high and all she had to keep her sane was her daily FaceTime calls with Harry.

Opening her laptop to do her work, she checked the numbers again- seventy thousand new cases. She sighed and closed her laptop, not having the motivation to do any work. She scrolled through her social media to distract herself only to be shoved more news about the coronavirus, she let out a groan of frustration and switched off her phone, deciding to take a nap instead.

Only she couldn’t sleep. She thought back to all the plans she made with Harry, promising him to be there next to him while he toured the globe. She laughed at the situation and how no one in a million years could have guessed the current world state.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she must have as she woke up with a jolt in her bed after a strange dream. She shook her head and looked out her window to see the sky dark. She switched on her phone, it was 8 pm. She cursed to see three missed calls from Harry and one from her friend, Sarah.

Preparing herself, she called Harry.

“Where were you, I called like three times?” His voice was deeper than usual, she guessed he had just woken up because of her call. She calculated it to be 4 am in London, where Harry was. She felt bad for waking him up like that.

“I know, I switched off my phone and fell asleep. Sorry,” she grimaced.

Harry hummed in acknowledgement, “how you doing?”

She could hear rustling on the other side and imagined a sleepy Harry sitting up in his bed, his hair messy from his sleep, “Just missing ya’.”

“I know, I hate that I had to leave you like that, wish you could come with me,” there was a hint of a whine in Harry’s voice which made Y/n smile.

“Wish I had a visa for England, I really wanted to come too,” and she meant that. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to be alone.

“I’ll video call you tomorrow, it’s late here, or rather early,” what he was saying next was obscured by his yawn. She sighed, she missed him too much.

“Yeah sure, see you tomorrow, bye.”

“Bye.”

When the call disconnected, she messaged Sarah to ask what the call was about, who didn’t respond. She shrugged her shoulders and went down to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner.

It started with a headache. She didn’t ponder much on it and instead only took medicine to curb the pain enough to continue working.

It was when she felt a certain roughness in her throat, did she pay attention. Her cough worsened within days, she was having a hard time breathing normally. It felt like a less severe but constant asthma attack. She took her temperature, which showed her to be having a fever at 101°F.

It took her some time to even process what was happening to her, she initially wondered if it could be the flu or something non-covid, but she knew she couldn’t take the chances. Harry was the first person she informed.

“What are you saying?!” Harry was frantic, his forehead creased as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing them up.

“I have a fever, a cough, and I’m having difficulty breathing,” counting the symptoms on her fingers, she informed him again.

“It could be the flu, Y/n you didn’t even go outside. How could it be anything else?”

“H, I did go out to buy supplies, didn’t I? Maybe I got infected there somehow. We shouldn’t be kidding ourselves. I have to at least get tested.” You didn’t want to show him just how scared you were, but it was hard to keep your voice from cracking.

“I am scared, H,” you let the tears out. Your shoulders shook while you tried to wipe your tears as they were leaking from your eyes.

Harry closed his eyes, not being able to see you sobbing, “I know baby, but I know you’ll be strong. I will take the next flight to LA. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He promised, his mouth set in a hard line as a strong look of determination crossed his face.

She shook her head with as much strength she could muster, “No Harry, you shouldn’t keep travelling, plus, you can’t stay with me and I don’t want you staying at some hotel. It’s not safe.”

“Bu—”

“—I won’t hear another word about it. I have Sarah, and you have your work to take care of. I will be fine.”

She knew Harry wanted to say more, object to her claims, she would not be fine. But he knew it would be of no use, once she had made up her mind, it would be impossible to change it. So, he settled for a low nod.

“Keep me updated, I’ll also talk to Sarah. She better be there for it all. You should now call your doctor, see what’s the next step.”

Y/n nodded, smiling that Harry understood. She didn’t want to trouble him. She also wanted to pretend for a few more seconds that this was not a big deal.

She called Dr Gupta, her heart was beating at an all-time high and her energy was at an all-time low. She barely had enough breath to tell her doctor about her situation who booked an appointment for her to go to the nearest covid testing facility.

She took a deep breath, wore her protective gear and drove to the testing lab which was a ten-minute drive from her place. She was already out of breath by the time she reached the place.

When she was done with her test, she felt worse than she had before. Sarah called to check in on her, but Y/n didn’t have the energy to talk so Sarah video-called her, seeing Y/n’s face would have to be enough for her at that point.

Sarah’s eyes softened, seeing her best friend heaving, eyes shut and groaning due to her chest pain. But she knew, more than anything, her best friend was scared.

“I hope with everything that I am that the test comes back negative,” her voice was tinged with worry and genuine hope.

Y/n could only nod.

The call came two days later, Y/n sat up in her bed, she had been dreading this moment these past days, with Harry and Sarah to distract her.

The test came back positive.

She fell back into her bed, cushioned by her pillow and started shaking uncontrollably as she sobbed.

She felt insanely dehydrated by the time she stopped crying, she didn’t even get to call either of her friends. She stood up with a groan, and following one slow step after the other, she went to the bathroom to wash her now tear-stained face.

The call she made to Harry wasn’t an easy one. She knew he would take the news worse than she had, and her reaction was not a light one.

“I prayed. I promise I prayed Y/n,” his words were almost indecipherable in between his cries. His every tear followed the other with a ferocity never before noticed by Y/n.

Her own tears followed suite, she was so sure she had finished up all her tears, but she was proven wrong. Soon, the only conversation happening between the two was through their sobs.

She wanted to curse all the gods, she didn’t want to go through the pains of having this disease and she didn’t want to do it alone. Even though she had Harry and Sarah standing right beside her, knowing they would not be able to meet her in person, she had never felt more alone.

“I don’t feel good, H,” she confessed. Breathing was becoming difficult day by day, she would rather have an asthma attack twice a day than having this constant pressure on her chest and throat. She knew she had to tell him, “I have to get admitted to the hospital first thing in the morning tomorrow, they say my covid could be worsened because of my asthma,” she let out in between a series of coughs stopping her after every word.

Harry nodded, his heartbeat rising. He cursed himself for leaving his girlfriend alone in the country. If he hadn’t left, she would not be going through this, “I’ll tell Sarah, you go rest,” he promised, seeing it get increasingly difficult for her to even sit up in her bed.

If Y/n was scared before, then the hospital made it thousand times worse. It was a scary sight, the covid ward was in an isolated area of the hospital, the doctors and nurses were in full PPE kits, the patients were lined up next to each other separated by curtains. She passed a room with ICU written on the glass door. With what she could see, she noticed several other patients, some with masks covering their nose, probably providing oxygen. Others seemed in worse conditions, they were intubated via ventilators.

Seeing them facing the same crisis together, although away from their families, but forming a new family of sorts in solidarity to their conditions gave her little comfort. Those who wore the nasal masks and thus still had the ability to talk were speaking to each other, even reading something from their phones to those who were on ventilators. Covid had seemed like a situation she would have to go through alone, her initial views though were changing.

She was admitted to the regular covid ward, with the rest of the non-critical patients and would be observed overnight. She was assisted with oxygen through a nasal mask, just like the people around her, she had noticed.

“Hey, I’m Cecilia, call me Cece,” a thirty-something woman introduced herself from beside you. The curtain was partially open, allowing Y/n to see only her face.

“Y/n, nice to meet you,” she called back, smiling as much her energy would allow.

“Never guessed this is how I would be spending my lockdown,” she laughed lightly, pointing to her mask. She then followed it up with a cough, groaning with the strain.

Y/n felt bad for her, only to be subjected to the same.

These were going to be some long days. Though she did feel better knowing she would not be facing this alone. She looked around the room, at probably twenty patients around her, in the same situation as her, if not in worse conditions. She then thought back to the people in the ICU and what they must be subjected to.

Her phone brought her attention to itself, it was Harry FaceTiming her; putting on a smile, she picked up the call.

“Hey handsome,” she suggestively raised her eyebrows, not wanting to worry him any further.

Harry did not even notice her words, he was too busy gawking at her nasal mask, “what is that?” worry coating his voice.

“Oh just my new accessory, you like it?” although Y/n wanted to look nonchalant, the pain in her voice could not be hidden, she sighed, “They are giving me oxygen through this.”

Harry’s eyebrows were knitted together in worry, Y/n wanted to make him feel better. She could not rest knowing her love was out there worrying about her, “Look I made a friend,” she turned the camera to Cece laying next to her six feet apart, “Cece, say hi to my boyfriend, Harry.”

She had forgotten her boyfriend was a big deal but was reminded of it by Cece’s gasp, “Harry freaking Styles ohmigod ohmigod,” Cece squealed, making Y/n forget for a second that she was not a teenager.

“Hullo love,” Harry greeted her in his ‘fan voice’, a smile graced her lips. “Hope you beat covid and get better soon.” Cece’s smile made Y/n realise how long these people had gone without having a reason to smile and how desperately they needed it.

Cece’s squeal garnered the attention of the people around them. Noticing the pop icon on the phone screen, conversations started flowing between everybody. Introductions were made, friendships were formed and smiles were passed around, along with Y/n’s phone. So, she asked a nearby nurse if they could access a bigger screen so everyone could see and talk to her boyfriend.

When the staff hooked up a screen, Harry gave all the patients an impromptu concert. Y/n had not smiled in days the way this concert had made her. She expected fear, anxiety, deaths and instead got friends, laughter, and music.

When Harry was done performing for his audience, he gave her a brief look. “I love you,” she whispered to him, smiling when he returned the words.

The next day, she was woken up by the noises around her, she panicked for a moment, not recognising the place she was in; but calmed when she regained her senses and noticed the blue curtains of the hospital, several machines and the people they were attached to.

She made a short conversation with Cece but had to stop because she was getting out of breath. With every passing moment, her chest pain too was increasing. She did keep listening to people chat around her. Some were on calls with their family, others were busy reading books and listening to music. She kept getting shouts of gratitude from the people in the ward for Harry the previous night.

For the next two days, that kept her going. She learned about her fellow patients, Jonathan was 59 years old, his son was an engineer and he couldn’t have been more proud; Jaya was a 42-year-old woman with bronchitis and wanted to visit Paris at least once in her life. Marc was a 50-year-old diabetic who was in a band in the 80s, they were planning a reunion show. She met countless people, each with their own stories.

At about 10 am on a Thursday, her situation worsened. The doctors had come for a routine checkup, only to see that her oxygen levels were dropping steadily and she needed immediate assistance.

She was shifted to the ICU ward. She had to be intubated and thus was given a board and marker to write anything if she wanted.

“—Yes sir, she was shifted to the ICU this morning—”

“—We can’t say much right now, but we’ll inform you if anything changes—”

“—Okay, take care, Sir.”

Y/n heard bits and pieces of the conversation her doctor was having with Harry, although since she was on medication, she couldn’t register much of it. The nurses brought her phone to her, a silhouette moving on the screen.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?”

Y/n pondered how to describe the immense pain burning through her respiratory passage and the lack of oxygen eating away her lungs and not give him nightmares. So, she offered him a tired thumbs up.

Harry watched his girlfriend cough, her face contorting in pain and could not control his tears, he didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario but could not stop his mind from going there. He knew how low the chances were of people on ventilators coming back. But he had to remain positive, someone had to. She needed him to be strong for her. So, he wiped away his tears, put on his best brave face and talked to her.

He called her every three hours. Giving updates to her about his day, talking to her about whatever he could. He talked enough to compensate for the silence on her part. She smiled through every sentence, even though he could not see it, even though it wasn’t visible on her face, even though she didn’t have the power to, she smiled.

And she listened. So she didn’t have to focus on Josephine dying next to her or Augusta who was a hair length’s distance away from dying the previous day. Even though doctors told her that her situation was worsening, she listened because that became the only thing keeping her from giving up.

As her pains didn’t go away, and her condition worsened further, she was given sedatives and was thus mostly asleep. Which she was thankful for, for she couldn’t take it anymore, she just wanted to rest.

Dr Garcia came by routinely to check on her, talking to her about the outside world, gave her the gossips being passed around the hospital. Even though she was barely awake to listen to any of it, she was thankful for the kind doctor providing a calm lull while doing her job.

“Mr Styles, I’m afraid her condition isn’t getting any better. She should have shown atleast some improvements,” Dr Garcia informed Harry in a heavy voice.

On the other side of the line, Harry didn’t know what to do, it felt like someone was pulling away the floor under him. “What happens now?” He asked, praying for some hopeful news.

“We really can’t say much, each case is different, but it would be better uhm,” the doctor was thinking through her words, wanting to be as considerate as possible, “is there any family of hers that would want to talk to her?”

Harry almost let out a sob as he realised what the doctor was implying ‘is there anyone who would want to give her a final goodbye?’

“No, Y/n’s family passed away in an accident when she was 16, it’s just me and Sarah,” he explained, his voice on the verge of cracking, it was becoming harder to get words out of his mouth. He didn’t want to talk anymore, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

“Oh, I understand,” Dr Garcia nodded, feeling sorry for the young girl who had stolen the hearts of everyone in the ward. She was a sweet girl, who had dreams and still held love for life even after everything she had seen. “This is not the end, Harry, she can still recover, God, I pray she does, this is not the end.” She really believed the words she was saying and wanted Harry to feel the same.

He nodded, tears clouding his eyes. He too really wanted to believe that.

A beat of silence fell upon the conversation, both in deep thought, “Harry, she wrote something on her board when she was awake yesterday,” Harry’s ears pricked up, “she wrote and I quote ‘I will not give up’ with a smiley face at the end. She is a fighter, you remember that,” Dr Garcia gave her parting ways and went back to her work.

Y/n’s words were imprinted in Harry’s mind. After the call, he made himself more presentable, wiping his tears and drove up to the church near Y/n’s house. He had come back to LA after Y/n was admitted to the ICU. He couldn’t be five thousand miles away from her in that condition.

The church was almost empty, which was surprising to Harry, given the situation, but he wasn’t complaining. He walked up the aisle, his hand grazing each wooden bench as he reached the altar and kneeled. He didn’t what to pray or how to pray, but he tried anyway. He closed his eyes and called out to God; he prayed with every part in his body, with every bone, every muscle, every fibre of being for his love to get better. For her to keep fighting. And for him to gain enough strength to deal with it all.

All this time, he had been feeling so helpless, not being able to do anything to make her better. But he made peace with the fact that the only thing he could do right now was to have faith. To have faith in God to guide him and her, in Y/n to be the stubborn strong-willed woman that she was and continue fighting, he had faith in his faith and that it would not disappoint.

He stayed there, talking to God until the closing hours. He then went back to Y/n’s place and sat on the sofa, waiting by his mobile, ready for any phone call he might receive.

He was awoken the next day by his phone ringing on the coffee table next to him. He looked at the time, it was noon, he picked up.

“Congratulations Harry, she’s getting better,” the relief was evident in Dr Garcia’s voice.

Harry felt himself getting physically lighter.

“I mean there is still a long way to go, but her oxygen levels are rising, her lungs are recovering, she’ll be soon able to breathe on her own. Harry, she did it, she won,” Harry didn’t listen to the rest of what the doctor was saying, he was too busy falling in love with the love of his life. It felt like he himself had come back from the dead. He knew his faith could never disappoint.

“Thank you doctor, I’ll be waiting for the call when you tell me she’s tested negative,” he laughed, his lungs breathing in air after what felt like a lifetime.

Dr Garcia chuckled along with him and agreed, telling him Y/n would call him when she woke up.

“You know I love you right? My fighter,” Harry tightened his grip on her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Y/n’s head fell back as laughter bubbled out of her, “You just told me that like two minutes ago.”

“I know, but a few weeks ago I thought I would never get to say it to you ever again. So, I will keep reminding you every minute that I love you and that you are the strongest person I know,” he snaked his arms around her, placing his head on top of hers, “I really missed holding you.”

She breathed in Harry’s scent, slowly regaining her sense of smell, she had missed this too. She cupped his cheek with her right hand and gave him a light peck.

Harry grabbed the back of her head, keeping her lips on his, deepening the kiss. When they separated, he rested his forehead against hers, not wanting her to move even an inch away from him.

Noticing her deep breaths, he whispered in her ears, “This is the only reason I want you to be out of breath. This and well... the other one,” he smirked.

“Oh hush you,” Y/n blushed, she sucked in a breath through her teeth, “Shit man, I love you.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #covid19 #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #angst

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poisonedapples · 4 years

Text

Prologue: Roman’s Fluffy Helper

Summary: Roman’s service dog Princess helps him with a lot of things. She gets his meds, helps him through panic attacks, and helps him be able to leave the house. What Roman didn’t expect was for her to help him make friends.

Pairings: Platonic LAMP, background familial Creativitwins

Warnings: Anxiety, food, mentions of panic attacks (though no one has one), mentions of epilepsy, swearing, some jokes about murder and death.

Word Count: 3,495

Notes: Something small I wrote in two days for the Service Dog AU, created because of this post I made. If you’re interested, you can always find some more stuff about this AU in the “service dog au” tag!

Virgil shared a few classes with Roman Sanders.

He was in his first two periods, and the only student (other than Patton) that Virgil actually took note of being in his class. Though, that was because it’s almost impossible to not notice him.

Roman was a really quiet kid, one that teachers hardly ever called on and was always excused from doing presentations (lucky bastard). Virgil had only heard him talk a handful of times, and he wasn’t exactly popular either. The thing that really made Roman stand out, however, was the giant golden retriever with a service dog vest that followed him everywhere.

He’d seen dozens of kids go up to him asking to pet his dog, met with a lot of refusal and Roman leaving the class if it got bad enough. Usually he would only sit at his desk, quietly doing his work while his dog curled around his feet and didn’t make a scene. If Virgil wasn’t a loner himself, he’d go up to Roman and maybe strike a conversation. But the guy always seemed to be calm when he was alone, and Virgil sucked at starting conversations, so they never actually talked.

It was only a month into school when Virgil had his first conversation with him. And it was absolutely not his intention.

Virgil was checking his phone at his designated lunch spot when Patton slammed his lunchbox on the table. “Virgil!”

“...Yeah?”

“There’s a cute little puppy over there!” Patton pointed to the other side of the lunchroom, but Virgil couldn’t see what he was talking about from this distance. How far do those damn glasses make you see? “I wanna pet the good boy so bad!”

Virgil kept looking where Patton was pointing. “Is it the drug dog again?”

“No, it’s a different one!” Patton seemed to be vibrating with excitement where he was standing, jumping up and down with the biggest grin on his face. He seemed to be fighting a fruitless internal battle before he loudly announced “I’m gonna go pet the puppy so much!”

The moment Virgil realized what was happening was almost in slow motion.

First, he saw a secluded table away from all the others, right behind the table Virgil thought Patton was pointing to. There, he saw Roman Sanders eating his lunch, his service dog under the table just like how it was during class. Patton ran across the lunchroom to go to the secluded table, dodging any kids that got in his way. Virgil realized in horror that Roman wouldn’t be able to stop Patton before he dived under the table just to pet a dog. And doing so could fucking kill Roman.

Virgil sprung up from his seat and shoved everyone out of his way to get to Patton in time, no matter how many bitchy remarks the other students made. Roman didn’t have time to look up and notice Patton approaching before Virgil pounced on his friend, nearly toppling them both to the ground with the force of him smacking himself into Patton. The security guards looked at them both as if preparing to break up a fight, but looked away when it only seemed to be two guys being kids.

Roman may not have noticed the bubbly kid charging at him before, but he certainly did now, looking up to see Virgil and Patton basically wrestling each other.

“Patton, don’t pet the dog!” Virgil yelled.

“Awwwww, but why not!?”

“It’s a service dog, you can’t distract a service dog or you could literally kill someone!”

Patton relaxed in Virgil’s grasp, “...Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Uh…” Virgil and Patton both looked at the poor kid that almost got attacked, “Do you...need something? Or…?”

Patton’s eyes lit up. “Your dog is so cute! What’s his name?”

Roman smiled shakily to hide his flinch. “Her name is Princess.”

“Princess? I love it! What breed is she?”

“Golden retriever…?”

“She’s such a good girl! I love her, she’s adorable!”

“Uh, thank you.”

Virgil let go of Patton, but still kept a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t scare the poor dude, Pat.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I just really like dogs, and Princess is so cute and fluffy! I have two dogs of my own, but they’re a lot smaller, and I’d have a bunch of cats too if I wasn’t allergic.”

Roman’s voice gained a little more confidence. “Princess is the only dog in my house. My brother has a bearded dragon, though.”

“A bearded dragon sounds awesome! I don’t know much about reptiles though, and I’m always scared to hurt them because they’re so tiny. They’re super cute though!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind him, he really likes animals. I’m Virgil, and this is Patton.”

“Oh yeah! I forgot to mention that! I’m Patton, do you how do?”

Roman laughed, but didn’t mention the reference. “Roman.”

“You’re in my first two classes, aren’t you?” Virgil asked, “With Mrs. Jones and Mr. White?”

He nodded. “...Didn’t you like...yell at Mrs. Jones a couple days ago over assignments?”

“She’s a bitch and deserves to know it. Who the fuck assigns three giant-ass chemistry packets due in three days?”

Patton waved his finger at Virgil disapprovingly. “Now Virge, just because the homework they give is ridiculous doesn’t mean you get to cuss out a teacher.”

“I didn’t say I cussed her out.”

“I know you, Virgil.”

“...The detention was worth it and I’m not sorry.”

Roman laughed again, and Patton smiled so wide that Virgil thought he would start jumping through the roof. “Hey Roman, can me and Virgil sit with you? I’d love to keep talking!”

Virgil noticed Roman’s leg begin to bounce violently. “Uh, sure…”

“Great! I’ll get our lunches!”

“Do you have any, like...allergies, Roman?” Virgil asked. Anything I might have in my lunch that could accidentally kill you? I don’t wanna kill you. Patton already almost did that. Let’s not give a second close call.

Roman shook his head, so Patton walked back to their previous spot to get their lunches. Virgil took a seat directly across from Roman, and once he did, Princess rose up from her place at his feet and lied across his lap. Roman started petting her with both hands, and Virgil felt a sense of panic rise in him. Please don’t fucking die. “You okay dude?”

Roman nodded, but Virgil pushed just in case. “Do I need to get like...a teacher? Or the nurse?”

Roman shook his head, then took a couple deep breaths in and continued to pet Princess’ fur. Virgil kept watching him carefully just in case, but it felt awkward sitting at the table with no conversation or food to focus on. Instead, Virgil mindlessly searched through Tumblr for the thirty seconds Patton was gone, placing his own lunchbox and Virgil’s tray on the table with a smile.

Virgil put down his phone and instead started eating some of his food, but Roman didn’t talk for a while. Princess still had her head on his lap with his hands combing through her fur, and the more she laid on him, the more Virgil began to worry. Why is she on him?

Well...only one way to find out. “So, Roman…”

Roman lifted his head up to look at Virgil. “Yes?”

“What kind of service dog is Princess? What does she help with?”

Roman turned his attention back to Princess, but he still smiled a little, so Virgil considered it a slight win. “She’s a psychiatric service dog. She does a very good job of helping with my anxiety.”

“Oh, mood.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You...have a service dog?”

Virgil’s face somehow became more pale than it already was. “Uh, no...I mean, like, I have anxiety too. Obviously not as bad as to have a service dog, but like...solidarity.”

Virgil took Roman’s second smile as an even bigger win. “Solidarity, I suppose.”

“How long have you had Princess?” Patton asked.

“About two years, I think. She was in training for a year, but she’s been my full-time service dog for this past year. I had another dog before her, but he’s retired now.”

Patton let out a loud horrified and upset gasp, “The poor baby! I’m so sorry!”

Roman’s eyes widened. “Not like that, no! Simba’s still alive, he just isn’t a service dog anymore! He keeps my grandparents company at their house.”

“Oh, good! He sounds like such a sweet puppy!”

“He is. I visit him sometimes, and he’s gotten very lazy, but he still jumps around and gets excited when he sees me.”

Patton covered his mouth with his hands excitedly. “Do you have a picture of the good boy, by any chance?”

Roman nodded and took out his phone. After a bit of searching, he tapped on a photo to show it to Patton and Virgil, causing Patton to gasp and squeal again. “Oh my goodness I love him! He’s such a good little puppy!”

“I would hardly call him a puppy anymore.”

“He’s an amazing puppy.”

“Just let it happen, dude. Pat insists every dog is a puppy.”

“They’re all babies!”

Roman smiled at the two bickering over his old dog, wondering if he should butt in with a witty quip of his own when Princess scooted off of his lap and back onto the floor. He definitely felt better now. Not completely calm, but nothing panic attack worthy. Right at the second he decided not to push his luck (saying what was actually on his mind was always harder around strangers, and he had just calmed down), the bell to signify the end of lunch buzzed through the entire school. Virgil stepped up to throw his tray away and Patton packed up his containers in his lunch box as Roman did the same.

“It was nice meeting you, Roman!” Patton exclaimed, holding out his hand for Roman to shake, which he did extremely stiffly and pulled away after only a second. Patton smiled anyway and didn’t seem to mind.

When Roman stood up to head out, Virgil came back and stood alongside Patton. “What class do you have after this?” He asked.

“Oh, uh...I actually go home after lunch. I do the rest of my classes online.”

“Damn, I wanted to bother you while you walked to class so I could skip gym.”

“Virgil, go to class!”

“It’s fucking gym, he doesn’t give a shit. I’m passing and that’s all that matters.”

Patton sighed but didn’t push it. It seemed he’d gotten used to it after this long. “Well, hopefully we run into you tomorrow, Roman.”

“Uh, actually…” The two looked at Roman and waited for him to speak. Princess pawed on his leg to warn him he was getting too worked up, but Roman ignored it this time. Definitely not his smartest idea. You can do it. Just say it. “...If you two wanna sit next to me, maybe, I wouldn’t really, uh...mind…”

Patton smiled, soft and reassuring. “We’d love that. See you at lunch, then?”

Oh hell yeah! “Yeah...see you tomorrow.”

Virgil walked ahead and waved a hand at Roman from behind. “See ya.”

“See ya, Roman!”

With that, Roman was left alone again, but this time he didn’t necessarily mind. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he couldn’t tell if it was from adrenaline or a sign of an attack, but he still considered it a win. No more sitting alone at lunch.

Roman and Princess walked through the crowd to exit the building through the main office. When he got into his car with Princess in the passenger seat, he took a minute to calm down before he started driving down the road. Princess stepped over to the driver’s side to comfort him one more time today, practically sitting on his lap and letting Roman comb his hands through her hair. The ball in his chest slowly grew smaller as his breaths became easier to take, though his arms still felt weak as they shook.

But yet, this kind of anxiety was worth it. Just this once.

When Roman did start driving, pushing Princess back to her side and taking off, he had a smile on his face the whole time.

***

“Yo, bitch!”

Roman groaned at the sound of his brother coming through the front door. “What!?”

There was no verbal response, but Roman heard the footsteps coming up the stairs before his bedroom door swung open. Remus posed dramatically in the doorway. “What’s up?”

“Just finishing up some online stuff, why?”

“Who was Mr. Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and his friend Fluttershy?”

“...You mean the kids with me at lunch?”

“That’s the bitch.”

“Well, their names are Virgil and Patton, not whatever the hell you just said.”

“In my defense, of course the Raven Way guy is fucking Virgil.”

“What are you even talking about!?”

“Don’t worry about it!” Remus walked over to Roman’s place at his desk and threw his arms around him. Roman scoffed, but didn’t protest. “But why were they sitting with you? Do I have to commit murder? I know a guy.”

Roman tried his damn hardest not to smile. “Patton wanted to know about Princess, so we just...talked. It was actually quite nice. I even invited them to sit with me again tomorrow.”

“Roman Sanders? Making friends? Surely, you jest!”

“Says the guy who only has had one friend his entire life.”

“Janus is my ride or die and if you dare to insult him again, I’ll rip out your teeth and shove them up your nose.”

“You do that. Now get out, I’m working and you smell awful.”

Remus backed away with a gleeful smile on his face. “I rolled around in a giant puddle of mud!”

“Take a damn bath!”

Remus was out the door with a large slam before Roman could continue to argue. “I can’t hear you! But remember, if you need to bury a body, tell them you know a guy!”

Roman rolled his eyes and basked in the sudden silence. Princess looked up at him from his bed, and he couldn’t resist taking a small break to pet her. “He’s so weird, Princess.”

Although Princess couldn’t agree with her mouth, she absolutely did with her eyes.

***

A week had passed since Patton and Virgil started sitting with Roman at lunch. It had become his favorite part of the school day for more than just the ability to go home. He had friends. He was talking to people who he not only enjoyed talking to, but people who seemed to enjoy talking with him. Some people would consider only two friends too little, but Roman considered it the biggest of wins.

(His mom also seemed shocked but proud of him for socializing with people, so it was an even more amazing win than before now.)

Roman was perfectly content with his two friends. So long as he kept them, he would be more than fine. Sometimes his anxiety would act up and tell him that they’re only gonna leave him again, but he tried not to think about it. For right now, they were his friends. It was all that mattered.

What he didn’t expect was for him to get a third friend.

It was his fourth period class, right before his lunch where he was able to eat and have a good time with some company. He’d noticed the new kid that joined the school two weeks ago, but of course he never talked to him. He acknowledged his presence when the teacher introduced him, but that was it.

He was doing his math work when the new kid sat next to him. At first, Roman paid him no mind. Maybe he was getting distracted by the other students and wanted a more quiet place to work, or he liked how Roman’s table had almost no one sitting at it. It wasn’t until the kid spoke up that Roman gave him attention.

“Forgive me if this is too personal of a question, but how exactly did you train your service dog?”

Roman looked over at the kid. Oh yeah, hi, my name is Roman, what’s yours? “Oh, uh...some things I had to hire a personal trainer for, but I did some of the training on my own…”

“How long does it take to train a service dog?”

“Usually about six months, I guess...but it took me a year to make double sure she was ready.”

“Is she a medical alert dog?”

Why all the questions? “No, a psychiatric one.”

“Ah. I’m aware of psychiatric service dogs, but I have a little more knowledge when it comes to medical alert and seizure response dogs. However, I’ve never actually met someone who has a service dog. I’ve only done my own research out of curiosity, especially with my own disability.”

Roman got the courage to look up from his work at that. The kid had nerdy, square glasses over his eyes and straight black hair shifted to the right side of his face. Despite the fact that it wasn’t even fall yet and they lived in Florida, he still wore a purple hoodie that almost completely engulfed his body. The hoodie read I don’t look sick? You don’t look stupid! in white and purple letters, and on his wrist, a silicone band saying Alert! Epilepsy with a red medical symbol on both sides of the words.

Roman almost said Oh aloud. He’s not trying to be rude. He’s probably trying to find someone like him, especially if he’s new. Come on, Roman, be polite! And don’t freak out for once! “...You do have quite the epilepsy hoodie there.”

The kid looked down at his hoodie and smiled slightly. “Yes, well...it encompassed my kind of humor, and I am rather intolerant to the cold. Under this I have a Doctor Who shirt.”

“I, uh...don’t have any service dog shirts, but Princess has a lot of patches.”

“Is it alright if I look?”

“Sure, just...don’t pet her or anything.”

The kid waved it off. “Don’t worry, I know better than to get her attention.” He ducked under the table carefully, like any sudden movement would alarm Princess. He rose back up after a few seconds and gave his attention back to Roman. “She has a lot of Disney-themed patches. Where did you get them?”

Roman’s heart started beating faster. “...I actually, kinda, um...I made those ones myself.”

“You did a good job with them. They’re very intricate.”

“Thanks…”

“Oh! I apologize, I never actually introduced myself. I’m Logan.”

Roman gave him a nervous smile. “Roman.”

The bell rang, and everyone in the class started to pack up their stuff. Roman put his unfinished paper in his homework folder and stuffed it in his backpack while Logan did the same. When they both stood up, Logan addressed him one last time. “I have to go to lunch, but I hope we can talk another day.”

Roman felt that same desire come up in his throat. The desire to ask, to say something he usually would never consider asking. He couldn’t stand speaking to people, especially acquaintances, but Logan had a different energy to him. He was calmer, understanding, and a lot easier to handle than someone like Patton. Not to mention that his therapist did mention he can only get better if he pushes himself…

Princess didn’t alert Roman of a possible panic attack, so he considered that some kind of improvement. “Actually, Logan?”

“Yes?”

Come on. Do it. Say it. Three, two, one… “...Would you, uh...maybe wanna sit with me and some of my friends? Today?”

Logan’s face didn’t give him any hints to his emotions. “I would appreciate that.”

“I can...show you where it is, if you want?”

“Sure. I’d be happy for you to show me.”

The two walked out of the classroom, Roman and Princess in front of Logan to lead the way to the table. The two had a moment to situate themselves before Patton and Virgil came over, and with such a small table, Roman felt like the place was all the more crowded now. All the more welcoming.

Admittedly, a million times better than always sitting alone. He saw Remus staring from another table with those mischievous eyes, but he didn’t pay him any mind. When they were home alone, then he could bug him about it.

As always, right underneath his feet, Princess was curled into her ball, ready for any signs to jump into action. Instead, Roman looked at her under the table while the others went to get food. Apparently, he thought, you are a very good conversation starter when I need it.

“Good girl.” He whispered, although Princess didn’t seem to comprehend that he was talking to her. Instead, Roman took a mental note to give her a treat when they got home.

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narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Months of love

I know, it’s a shock that I actually do write more for bsd than just for the redheads. Either way, I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece of Poe being a denial-ridden little dumbass lololol. Also, just a little reminder, I know only the bare details of white day and valentines in Japan, so if there is any mess ups or details wrong, forgive me.

Poe shouldn't have been surprised to go to the store and see so many valentines chocolates on fancy displays, with brightly colored advertisements and boxes. He'd only come to the store for some groceries, but he'd been picking through small boxes of candies and packages of assorted white colored goodies for an hour, his shopping in his cart and ready to buy. "Do you think I should buy one?" He asked the raccoon perched on his shoulder, "I don't have any partners, but if I remember correctly valentines, or maybe white day, is also for general loved ones and not just romantic interests in japan, right?" As he spoke to himself, Poe looked over one of the boxes of pre-made chocolates, but they didn't sound that good for who he had in mind. I'm not sure if Ranpo has any allergies, so maybe it'd be best to avoid as many as I can. He decided after a swift scan of the remaining candies. So, he finally went to check out and go home with his pet. For the next chunk of the day, he tried to find recipes online for valentines chocolates and try them. His many attempts at the craft helped him hone the skill, and left him with plenty of candy for himself, so he wasn't frustrated at how long it took to finally get a high quality batch of candies. Once he had them, he boxed them up in the best little package he had, put Ranpo's name on the box in Japanese, and headed out for another trip into town, this time to the ADA. Oh god, is it okay if I go there? So late into the day? What if they're closed? What if they're NOT closed? The panic in his gut ate at his soul, he could feel himself reaching the limit he had for people and being out of the house like a collision he could see from a mile away, but he had no clue if he could spare a day to leave the candies and have the same meaning of appreciation. So, he powered through the discomfort as he pulled up to the agency building in the warm, gentle light of evening. What if Ranpo reads too much into it? I'm his nemesis, surely he won't think I have feeling-feelings for him? I just-I just want to show him that I appreciate his humoring of my rivalry with him. Poe told himself, climbing out of his car and taking a deep breath to quell the feeling of frantic, vibrating energy in his stomach before he walked into the building. The goth, of course, didn't have the guts to personally give the small box of candies he clutched anxiously to the smaller, highly intellegent, hyper-active ravenette he called a rival, so he instead crept closer to the office door and paused to listen. When he heard life within the ADA office, Poe's stomach plummeted and anxiety clogged his throat for a moment, forcing him to choke it down before he got so absorbed into 'what if' that he got caught crouching beside the door like a dumbass, clutching the gift he'd brought. So, he choked back the suffocating fear and just placed the box down before scurrying out and back to his car. He'd never been so thankful to return to his secluded, empty mansion-of-a-home in a sea of trees until that day. He was also highly grateful that his main source of income, ever since before the guild had hired him on, was so asocial and relaxing to him. It gave him a chance to unwind and destress after such a taxing day, though it also helped that, unlike in America, Poe had a whole month or so to prepare for any possible reciprocation he might get. Of course, Poe hadn't forgotten what he did by the time White day came around, he just couldn't decide if he was anxious to get a gift or not. Was he scared that Ranpo might reciprocate the feelings? Would he reciprocate the stated feelings, or the ones the goth kept locked deep within himself to avoid the risk of making a complete and utter fool of himself? These questions had been gnawing at him the most since the eleventh or twelfth of March, but his thoughts continued their campaign through every possibility imaginable as he once again did his monthly shopping and went to talk to his publisher. If anything, that feeling of frayed nerves negatively impacted his day, but he couldn't really bring himself to care about his publisher after the way this branch's representative was so rude to him. However, when he walked out into the early noon light and back to his car he got an answer to silence his anxieties, or make them worse. There, sitting on the hood of his car like a parking ticket was a small, somewhat shallow, white box with a note neatly tucked under the thin black ribbon. With shaking hands, Poe carefully took the box and note, pushing the thick curtain of bangs that he usually saw the world through from his grey eyes to read the scribbly, energetic english written on the slip, It amazes me that someone with such a creative, complicated, mysterious mind as yours is so very, very obvious with his reasoning, Edgar. I know for a FACT that you wanted me to see your little gift as a simple 'thank you for being my rival' but trust me pretty boy, you are as gay as a double rainbow in what you call 'pride month'. My only hope with this gift is that you are much more adept at picking clues up than you are at hiding your feelings. Poe took a deep breath to try and steady his vision, laying his head against the hot hood of his car as he slid down to his knees. he was almost certain that the world was swaying and spinning at the same time, his chest full of swirling whirlpools of shock, excitement, panic, general amusement, and finally the overwhelming urge to cry. Of course Ranpo was as mean sounding in a note addressed to the man he was reciprocating the feelings of as he was talking to his coworkers, that was almost painfully Ranpo. It also left no room for him to worry his way out of the clear, flashing meaning of the note, which brought a small smile to the nervous goth's lips.

#ranpoe #bsd #bungo stray dogs #ranpo #poe #fluff #scenario #ranpo x Poe #white day #valentines day

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forgotten-daydreamer · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu sick/hurt characters headcanons: Karasuno edition!

⚠️ sickness, injuries, phobias, allergies and correlated symptoms ahead. If these themes upset you, proceed with caution. If you use these, credit me, please. ⚠️

Sawamura Daichi:

He doesn't let anyone know when he's sick. He'll show up to practise with a fever of 39°C and say that he's fine if someone points out how warm he is ("It's just overextertion. If you're not warm, it means you haven't been exercising well!")

He doesn't actually believe that he's fine, he knows his limits, but he just doesn't want to alarm anyone.

Luckily, he always manages to hold on until he reaches the bathroom if he's feeling pukey.

When he does get sick, he's very quiet and discreet. He always tries to go back to what he was doing before, insisting that he's okay.

When he's sick or hurt, the other third-years can see through his "I'm okay!" act (remember that time he hit his head and insisted that he was fine to play?), and know how miserable he really feels, so they force him to take it easyー he's no match for Suga, who will use mild violence if that's what it takes to make Daichi give up and rest.

Sugawara Kōshi:

He's anemic, cue to his constantly cold hands (and feet). Because of this, he takes iron pillsー or he should, because he forgets more often than not.

When he forgets the pills, he gets dizzy and weak, and needs to sit down for a bit. Once, he passed out due to anemia during practise, and he doesn't want to repeat that ever again, so he's extra cautious.

It's easy to understand when he's feverish, because he gets unexpectedly sleepy and quiet. He will fall asleep in class without even realising it if his temperature's any higher than 37,5°C.

He rarely gets hurt, but when that happens nobody's sure if he's okay or not. It's not that he denies it, but he simply doesn't say anything ("why didn't you say anything sooner!?" "B-because you didn't ask..?")

Once, he twisted his ankle and walked on it for a little less than thirty minutes before actually asking the coach if he could go get himself some ice. Of course, they didn't send him to get the icepack, but he had to sit there and listen as Coach Ukai yelled at him for not speaking up sooner.

Azumane Asahi:

He gets anxiety-induced stomach aches very often, and that's why he's used to feeling dizzy and to puking. Vomit doesn't scare him anymore.

Whenever he's sick, he runs away from the others; he needs to flee, far away. He loves his teammates, but he's scared that they'll accidentally overwhelm him further, and he doesn't want them to feel guilty.

This man can't stand the sight of blood. Like, at all, not even a little. Not even in movies. When Shimizu got a shallow paper cut, the Coach actually had to physically support him when getting him seated on a bench.

He broke his left index finger when he was a first-year, and as soon as he saw the bone sticking out of the skin (it looked worse than what it really was) he fell backwards and on a very concerned Sugawara without a word.

Cue to lots of tears and puke on the way to the hospital. He was inconsolable, but when Daichi had the idea to hide the injury from his eyes, Asahi managed to calm down a bit. In every situation, it's not the injury that scares him, but the blood.

Nishinoya Yuu:

He's reckless, he won't even notice when he gets injured. Since he's so used to bruises, bumps and shallow cuts, he doesn't understand when he's actually injured.

This guy played a whole set with a sprained wrist before realising that "hey, this feels kinda weird..?" and he didn't tell anyone until the end of the game, when his wrist was visibly swollen.

High pain tolerance plays a major role when he's injured or sick. Still, the others wish he would have a more average pain tolerance, because, once, Nishinoya felt sick during math class, and still claimed he was fine. He thought he was.

When he was rushed to the hospital due to a "mild ache in his lower stomach" that had been going on for two days after the math class incident, along with a 38,7°C fever, he was told that he had appendicitis ("I thought I just ate something bad or that I needed to take a huge dump! How was I supposed to know!? I thought I was fine."). It was clear that he wasn't, in fact, fine.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke:

He will try to toughen everything out and ignore the pain until it gets unbearable. Be it an injury or some sickness, he will automatically ignore it if he doesn't think it's serious enough to be life-threatening.

That's why he almost died when he ate one of the peanut butter cookies that Yachi had baked. Turns out, allergies do existー but he wished he'd found out in a different way. Sometimes, "My throat's kinda itchy. Does my tongue look... too big? It... it feels too big." can be synonym of "Hospital, now." Bless Takeda-sensei.

The time when he collided with Daichi, Tanaka completely ignored the fact that his arm hurt, and only realised when he took his shirt off in the locker-room and heard a screech from Yamaguchi. The bruise went from his shoulder to his elbow, blue and swollen. Cue to lots of pain relief cream and ice packs.

Ennoshita Chikara:

He never broke a bone in his whole life, but he's very good at dealing with it when it happens to someone else. He's just fascinated by how the human body works, and sometimes people think he's being cold in front of someone else's pain, when he's really just being logical.

He's good at dealing with his own pain too, though he rarely gets hurt or sick.

When he gets sick, he recovers pretty rapidly, but this leads him into relapse. That's why he's not allowed back to practise for a whole week after he recovers ("I'm fine. I've been fine for three days already, my fever wasn't even that high..." "Last time you said you were fine, you almost got pneumonia. Go home.").

He gets bad allergies during spring, and takes a lot of antihistamine pills which make him sleepy. He often has to excuse himself from class to go take a nap in the infirmaryー the teachers and the nurse know, so they always allow him to.

Narita Kazuhito:

This man is the embodiment of health. His diet and lifestyle will probably allow him to live until past the age of 100.

That's why he's not used to getting sick. And when he does, he's a confused mess with no idea of what to do with himself.

When he puked on himself after practise he was so shocked that he chuckled nervously and stood still, frozen, until Kinoshita and Ennoshita dragged him to the bathroom. He almost found the whole ordeal funny.

Kinoshita Hisashi:

He really despises vegetables and fruit, and often gets mocked because of it. He often stuffs himself with sweets and fried food until he feels sick ("But... how? That cake had strawberries in it! It's supposed to be healthy!").

He gets very bad seasickness. Once, his friends decided to drag him to Miyajima: he spent the time on the ferry and first hour on the island puking his guts out.

The thing he doesn't do good with is fainting: if someone passes out in front of him, he does the same, always. When Daichi passed out in the middle of the court, Kinoshita was thankful that Narita was there to hold him up, because he was ready to leave the land of the living.

Kageyama Tobio:

Always denies everything ("my nose is not bleeding!!") and this only makes everything worse for him. If he feels shaky, he won't take a clue and sit down; instead, he'll push himself and end up falling down on whoever's closest to him ("Daichi-san, nice receive!" "Now's really not the time, Hinata...").

When he gets sick, he gets sick hard. The flu has him puking all day long, with a fever of 39.5°C that, he insists, is not that high. His family and friends are smart enough to understand that he's lying. Not even the doctors and nurses at the E.R. can convince him that he's sick.

To be fair, he does not lie when he says that he's not hurt or sick: he genuinely thinks that whatever's going on with him is normal and not that bad.

He accidentally tripped on the leg of a desk in class, and fell face first into the teachers'. The deep, bleeding cut on his forehead wasn't enough for him to understand that he needed to go to the infirmary, and he just sat back at his desk, apologising for the mess. Turns out that his "little cut" needed six stitches in the end, and that his "mild headache" was, in fact, a mild concussion. He showed up to practise the following day anyway, and the Coach had to physically prevent him from joining.

He doesn't do good with nausea, though; he doesn't mind fevers, joint-pains, blood, bruises, or the act of throwing up itself. But when he feels nauseous he actively wishes to pass out, because anything is better than dealing with feeling like that. That's why he'd rather stick his fingers down his throat to get rid of the nausea already than waiting for it to pass naturally.

This got worse when he started suffering from migraines. As soon as he feels one starting to build behind his eye, he throws himself over the toilet, waiting for the dreaded nausea to come so that he can get rid of it before it gets too bad. He stays like that for hours if that's what it takes.

Hinata Shōyō:

He pukes a lot, and for a number of reasons: nervousness, motion sickness, fear, hungerー this guy can't even take it to the bathroom.

His guts are a mess, and he either vomits or poops every time he feels any strong emotion (which is...pretty often, for him). Thank goodness his friends always have pills that help with motion sickness with them, along with antiacid pills and sparkling water, and that Kiyoko and Yachi often restock the bus and everyone's backpacks with paper bags.

The higher the fever, the more he moves. Ever since he was a kid, a fever has never stopped him, and to be fair, fevers make him feel more motivated and energetic. He takes "Hey, no. Sit down, drink up, and rest." as an insult because "I'm fine. You're benching me because you think I suck, huh!? But I was doing fine! I- I was being good, right..?"

Yes, fevers make him emotional. He'll cry for anything once they make him admit that he's sick. He mostly cries because "How could I get sick? I'm going to be useless! I should've paid more attention, I should've been better!" but Kageyama knows for sure that he saw a feverish Hinata crying over a picture of his sister, for some reason.

He doesn't mind blood when he's the one to be bleeding, but if it's someone else, he freaks out. Seeing someone else having a bloody nose or bleeding from some injury, even small and insignificant, makes his stomach flip.

Tsukishima Kei:

He's never said "I'm in pain." in his whole life. The most honest statement he managed to grit out was "It kinda hurts.", but he never said anything more than that. He won't show himself being so vulnerable, ever.

Whenever he has to go to the optometrist, he won't eat anything for at least half a day before the appointment, because he knows for sure that he's going to throw up after the doctor dilatates his pupils.

He's a quiet puker, and he always locks himself up in the bathroom, which can be dangerous in those situations. After that time when he passed out after throwing up, his mother got an extra key of the bathroom, and always lingers close to the door when she knows that her son's about to be sick.

If anyone tries to interrupt him when he throws up or when he's in acute pain, he will yell at them. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the help, but he hates how everything feels so crowded around him when he's down. The only person who's brave enough to help him when he's like that is Yamaguchi, mostly because he's used to hearing his angry words (even if Tsukishima's never insulted him personally).

Yamaguchi Tadashi:

Terribly emetophobic, he won't throw up even if he has to. He just won't do that, no way... Which is cruelly ironic, since he gets sick pretty often due to anxiety and weak immune system. Tsukishima doesn't mind helping him out (but he would never step close to anyone else when they're sick) but he can be a bit rough sometimes; this both reassures and agitates Yamaguchi. "I'll stick my fingers down your throat if you don't throw up now." doesn't sound too kind, but when Tsukishima adds "it'll make you feel better, I promise." Yamaguchi feels a bit calmer. He’s also a loud puker.

He's a type-2 diabetic, though he has it under control and hasn't had any problem related to that in a while, not since the beginning of middle school, at least. Still, sometimes he needs to reluctantly sit practise out because he's obviously too shaky and weak to strain himself that much. When that happens, they all make sure that someone sits with him to make him feel less alone... and he appreciates it immensely.

He's on anxiety meds, but they make him feel dizzy sometimes, which leads him into a spiral of panic for fear that he'll get sick. It's a huge contradiction, really, and he hates it with his whole soul.

He's one of the people in the team who can handle others' sickness and injuries better; it might shock him for a second, but he's ready to jump into action and solve the problem in order to help his friends out.

Injuries don't scare him, though the worst thing that ever happened to him was when he got punched in the face by a bully. He also broke his arm in middleschool once though he doesn't remember muchー maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was that it hurt less than he imagined. The punch freaked him out more than that.

Yachi Hitoka

She's a good caretaker, but an absolute mess when it comes to taking care of her own injuries and sickness.

She's clumsy so she's not new to bruises and cuts, but this doesn't mean that she doesn't freak out a bit whenever she sees blood on her legs or arms. On their way home from school, one day, Hinata and Yamaguchi decided to get her band-aids with little chicks and kittens on them. She finished the 30-pack in less than a month.

She got her period a bit late in life, a couple of months before turning 15, and whenever she's on her period, it hits her like a train at full-speed in the guts. Kiyoko taught her some yoga moves that help with the cramps, and the boys never bother the two of them when they see them doing yoga in the corner of the gym. In fact, they also bought her an electric heating pad for her birthday along with an indecent amount of chocolate that didn't fit in Yachi's bag (and various other presents not concerning periods).

Shimizu Kiyoko:

The scars on her legs are fully healed, yet the skin there is thinner, and so the wounds reopen whenever she accidentally hurts herself there. They sting quite a bit, and though it's unusual, she hisses out loud when it's bad. Everyone agreed to make sure that medkit is always equipped with antiseptic cream. To this day, Kiyoko insists that it isn't necessary, but they disagree.

She always knows what to do when someone else feels sick, but she's unsure about what she'd do in case of her own sickness. She hasn't been sick in too long to know.

She hasn't gotten a cold since elementary school, and that one time when she thought she'd caught something, when she sneezed at the age of 16, it was actually just a bit of dust allergy. She doesn't even need meds for it.

Takeda Ittetsu:

He hardly gets sick, but he ends up hunched over the toilet more often than not after a Friday night out with his friends. He drinks quite a bit for a teacher, but only when he knows that he can do that without compromising his career or setting the wrong example. Hangovers also leave him a messy wreck, and that's why he only drinks on Fridays: that way, he has until Sunday night to recover.

For someone who's constantly surrounded by teenagers, he doesn't get sick much. He catches a cold every now and then, but nothing more serious than that. And when he's sick, he always tries to prevent the others from catching what he's got, without actually taking care of himself to heal.

Once, he got a fever of 40,1°C and luckily for him Ukai was coming over to discuss about the volleyball club; he found Takeda sprawled face-down in front of the open door. He was boiling, so Ukai took him to the hospital where he stayed for two days. ("I didn't think it was this bad." "So you knew you had a fever and still went to work?" "Yeah, but I had a mask on so that the others could be safe." "And you didn't buy medicine in the meantime?" "Ah, no." "...what the hell!?").

Ukai Keishin:

He catches a cold every other month, no matter how many layers of clothes he wears. These colds are often accompanied by low fevers, but he's used to those so he simply chugs some orange juice and moves on.

He tried to quit smoking countless times, especially since he started coaching these kids, but he can't help smoking at least three of cigs per day. Still, sometimes his chest aches a bit, and maybe it's just paranoia, but when that happens he doesn't touch tobacco for a couple of days.

His liver would even be able to survive Takeda's nights out; his guts, in general, are strong and he swears he's never felt nauseous in his whole life.

💫 I might think of more sick karasuno hc soon, but that's it for now. Expect more characters hc soon! Again, credit me if you use these, and please feel free to share this post! 💫

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years

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Secret Surprise Hell

Summary: Virgil would have thought his soulmate taking the time to plan a surprise party in so much secret he knew a lot of the details before anyone his soulmate knew in person sweet, except now he hates knowing the details and having to keep the person it’s for from finding out early.

/\/\

Knowing the secrets of someone you've never even met was a very very bizarre thing. Nobody quite knew what to make of the soulmate connection and everyone had very strong views about secrets, whether it was that they should keep everything hidden or reveal all constantly, but either way, they were deliberate over how they treated secrets.

Virgil wasn't sure if he liked keeping so many secrets, but when the world left him certain people would vilify him for everything, from the clothes he wore to the things he enjoyed not matching the popular ones, it just felt safer to keep them secret.

Occasionally he'd make a friend and try trusting them with some of who he is, and now even that felt like stealing the knowledge of his accidental secrets away from his soulmate. After all a secret shared by 2 people isn't really a secret at all when they know each other in person.

His soulmate however didn't seem to keep any particularly identifying secrets. The secrets that would appear in Virgil's mind were random, about places they went occasionally, or praises for someone called Roman. Why those things needed to be kept secret, he couldn't know without meeting his soulmate, but he kept note of them in a journal. At least nothing seemed likely to make him get his soulmate arrested over a secret.

There's been news reports over the years about soulmates getting each other arrested, or testifying against each other without actually meeting. It damaged both parties in that soulmate connection as people saw betraying the secrets of your soulmate with utmost scorn, no matter how reprehensible the acts they'd carried out were. Virgil dreaded the chance he could be in that situation, but whomever his soulmate was didn't seem likely to do that.

Currently they were planning a surprise birthday party actually. Virgil had been surprised that came to him as a secret since usually parties like that needed multiple people to plan and it had remained secret for long enough that he knew when the decorations would be brought and that his soulmate was getting them from a department store in the same chain he worked at. It could even be the same one given there had never been a clue over where his soulmate lived.

Virgil hadn't learnt much beyond that they'd come with their brother since that meant sharing the plans with someone else, but he was going to keep an eye out, especially in case anyone in blue or called Patton mentioned wanting birthday decorations. He knew that sometimes people planning surprise parties forgot to let their friends know they were remembered while planning it all. Blue had been mentioned way too much while Remus was planning the party entirely in secret so Virgil could only believe Patton liked the colour a lot.

By the time the day to get party decorations came around he'd grown more and more curious over if there was a way to plan a meet up, make secret arrangements just with himself to go somewhere specific enough his soulmate could meet him there. It was a futile dream and one Virgil couldn't imagine doing. He hated being around public spaces alone, and then the added anxiety of hoping his soulmate might actually try to turn up? It would never happen, but then again he was kind of doing the return with his reaction to this party.

“Come Onnnnnn! If we're going to get this party set up we need to get decorations and get home!” An obnoxiously loud whine brought Virgil out of his thoughts as a pair of twins came into the store. Really it was a guy in what seemed to be a see through green and black ice skating costume and combat boots was dragging someone identical to him but far more reasonably dressed into the store, already looking around to decide the direction they'd head in.

“Welcome to the store, how can I help you today?” Virgil recited, long since trained into greeting people, even if they clearly didn't need to.

The ice skater outfit twin glanced at him for a second. “If you have pinatas I need to know where and if I can beat them up before buying them!” He decided, completely seriously after a second.

“Or perhaps you could direct us to party decorations. My brother has decided to throw a surprise party for one of my friends.” The other interjected, straightening his jacket now the pull on his wrist was released.

“Someone Had Too and you, for all your bluster of being a courteous knight wouldn't even bring up his birthday at all, despite the hints he kept dropping about wanting to do something!”

Virgil interrupted with a quick cough, not wanting an argument to break out. “You want the back shelves, that corner and pinatas are like an aisle away from the decorations. That classes as a party game instead.” He directed, arm pointing through the small clothing section near the front of the store.

“We've got decorations to get and things to beat up then. See ya!” The ice skater uniform was once again dragging his twin away, already talking about the various other things the world said it was good to beat up against things it was bad to.

Once they were out of sight Virgil returned to thinking and just watching the doors, half wondering if the pair could have been connected or possibly even his soulmate and whomever they'd chosen to go shopping with. He could imagine ice skater in combat boots keeping some of the weird secrets he'd received over the years.

“Um, Hey, are there any party decorations in here?” A rather down trodden man had come in while Virgil was thinking. He was in a blue collared top, and had his arms wrapped around him trying to hug himself.

Slowly Virgil nodded, “Sure, but are you okay? You don't look much like you want a party currently.” He wouldn't normally ask a customer this, but even without the thoughts in his head that this could be Patton, he just thought the guy needed a friendly face.

“Friends all forgot my birthday, I guess I'll do something myself. Perhaps if I get a party set up and invite them over this evening I can have a small celebration or something?” The puppy dog eyes though the guys glasses were fatal, and Virgil definitely hoped this was Patton, or at least this guys friends were doing the same thing as his soulmate.

None of that could be said though, so Virgil dragged a hand though his hair. “That's rough, Buddy. Come on, I've finished my time as greeter and should check the shelves anyway. I'll show you where the cakes are and help carry any decorations you pick out once we get there.”

“You don't have to do that, Kiddo. Thank you, though. I'm Patton.” The thanks had Virgil shaking his head, but the name had him freezing. This was his soulmate's friend, or given the weird twins from earlier, his soulmate's brother's friend and definitely had a surprise party planned for him already. How the hell was Virgil going to not only keep him from spending too much on decorations, as well as away from the brothers, while still managing to meet his soulmate?

Either way he definitely was sticking with Patton now. “No, I insist. Come on, I know the nicer cakes we have in stock. What type of cakes do you like? Chocolate, plain with jam, decorated to look like character or animals? We've got something for everyone here.”

“Animals. I love puppies and kittens so if they're on anything I'll probably pick that. Some of my friends have allergies so I can't get a cake with nuts on it.” Patton was already seeming happier with his help, but paused for a moment. “If you're gonna be helping me so much Kiddo, can you tell me your name? These glasses aren't good for reading name tags quickly.”

“I'm Virgil, and now I can't decide if I should show you the latest tray of cupcakes we've started getting or one chocolate sponge I've been tempted to get a few times.” This was far more customer service filtering than Virgil usually did, but he could play sweetness and light for a while.

They were looking at the cupcakes when the twin in a red coat called over. “Hey, Patton, fancy seeing you here.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes to the end of the aisle he'd come from before turning around. With how loud the call was it screamed of distraction technique and if the ice skater dude was around Virgil was going to either give him a piece of his mind or make sure it was passed on to Patton's friends. “If this is one of your friends I should probably get back to stocking shelves before someone challenges what I've been doing.” He offered, seeing Patton glancing towards him.

“Gosh Kiddo, I hope I won't have gotten you in trouble.” Patton had those puppy dog eyes again.

“Nah, I'm pretty sure I've got a good excuse if they try anyway. We pride ourselves on customer service.” Virgil dismissed it, already heading out the aisle. “Hope you have a good birthday.”

Sure enough when he got to the aisle with birthday cakes on there was the dude in his ice skating costume. Virgil immediately marched over, more irritated he'd been caught in this entire thing than happy at the chance to meet his soulmate now.

“Next time you decide to keep a birthday party a secret go to some other bloody store. I did not need to have to distract Patton all because you and that idiot with you left him feeling abandoned on his birthday!” He got immediate attention on him, even with the completely bewildered gaze. “Also is your brother Roman, and that why you constantly have secrets thinking something he's made is good? Cause right now if Patton is his friend primarily I've got half a mind to go and yell at him. Your party for him better be good!”

The ice skater guy burst out laughing then, “Honey, I've imagined meeting my soulmate a million ways but never thought it would be telling me off in a supermarket! You're coming to this party now and I'll make sure you can corner Roman to yell at him too! Especially if I can watch with popcorn. Can you tell Jay and Lolo off at the same time? They've all said I'm making a big deal out of nothing trying to set up a surprise party for Patton, but he's done so many parties for all of us.”

“I'll add them to the list. Have they at least got birthday presents for him?” Virgil shrugged, not quite sure what to do with the sudden invitation, but it wasn't like he was doing anything that evening.

“If they didn't earlier they definitely will by now. I got my morning-star out to threaten them with when Logan tried claiming the fuss made of birthday's was excessive.” Remus agreed, already nodding before pouting. “Hang on, you've known me all of two seconds and have somehow decided to care about both Patton and me in that time? Why the hell is your biggest secret that you're lonely?”

Virgil was not here to get called out for his own issues. “Anger for being dragged into surprise party planning does not count as caring.”

“Yeah and Roman's artwork is as worthless as he claims when the shading goes slightly wrong. Pull the other one. You've latched on quickly.” Remus cut through any blustering arguments Virgil might have tried to say.

“Loud places or crowded places are way too stressful to talk to people in. Hell even here I stick to the tills whenever there's holidays coming up to avoid the crowds. Doesn't exactly help me make friends and any I had have long since vanished cause they liked them.” He shrugged, reaching for the cake Patton had almost gone for before deciding it would be too big for the amount of friends he thought might come over at short notice.

“Cake got, now for chocolate gateau so I can shove it in someone's face!” Remus bounced off, tugging Virgil along with him. “Also, since we're soulmate's I better be getting your number and address so I can turn up out of the blue randomly.”

Virgil snorted. “So you're going to stalk me under the pretence of getting to know me?”

“You know it, MarketKing, you know it!” Remus really was looking through the refrigerated aisles for gateaus, but still turned to leer momentarily at him.

“Just call me Virge, or Virgil. What's your name anyway? I kinda forgot about that since I already knew what you're doing.” He wasn't going to point out the chilled desserts were on the end of an aisle nearer the frozen foods. On the chance an employee figured out who their soulmate was while working they were allowed a margin of unproductive work time.

“Remus, although Duke or Dukey works too. It's fun to have Roman scream those nicknames after I've pranked him. Half the time he gets so embarrassed it's like a second part of the prank.” Remus cheerfully offered.

Whatever this surprise party was going to be, Virgil was definitely interested in where getting to know his soulmate would end up.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #platonic intruality #platonic moxiety

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da-at-ass · 3 years

Text

Having Mental Illness

It's hard to talk about my experience with mental illness sometimes because I'm not diagnosed by a professional for "everything I have." For instance, in my household we all know that I have depression and anxiety, but it's not really nailed down on my medical chart whether I have Generalized Anxiety or Major Depression. I've talked to my doctor about my anxiety, my "moods" as it is usually termed in the doctor's office, and had my spouse at my side during the discussions, and been prescribed Zoloft for my symptoms even, and the takeaway has been:

My doctor doesn't want to diagnose me with a mental illness, because no one wants to figure out what the insurance will do. Or what the protocols for it are. Or what the exact diagnosis should be. My therapist had further insight there: finding someone who can make the right diagnosis for me is one thing. But there could be several different diagnoses for what I could have, depending on what treatment plan they wanted to bill for, or what my insurance covers, WHICH CAN CHANGE.

And all this time, we're just trying to live this and figure out how to do right by me and the body and brain I have.

It's why I keep thinking I need to explain myself here. There's no catch-all term for whatever it is that I have. There's a lot of medical interactions between my hormones, my mood, my sleep cycle, and my information processing ability. Sometimes at 2AM I decide it's time to read a paranormal encyclopedia, and that's just because my body is not going to be good at doing anything else at that time, because that's what the chemicals in my body say to do.

So, I mentioned my hormones--one reason I've been quiet is because I don't want people to think that transitioning will cause you harm or that transitioning people are "crazy." But I've had some severe mental health effects from my hormones being way off-balance at times, and I'm finally able to talk about it. One reason I'm able to talk about it again? I'm finally GETTING my hormones.

Last year when I switched to topical rub-on testosterone instead of intramuscular injection, it was because I was unable to do the shots anymore. My needle fears ramped up and I had to switch over. Well, turns out the absorption was never working right for me because I was getting allergy injections in the same area as I was rubbing the cream on, and apparently the testosterone got into my bloodstream instead of the lymph system, and made my levels seem incorrect? Gods it was nuts. Anyway my insurance cancelled rub-on hormones on January 1 with no warning anyway, so it's a good thing I was planning to switch to subcutaneous injection. Which I did yesterday after being without my rub-on hormones for 3 days.

My body feels like a submarine that goes up to get air and down to dive below at times completely dependent on my hormone levels and nothing else, and my hormone levels basically all last year were bonkers. It destroyed my sense of time right as I and everyone else were all locked in our homes. My stress has ramped with the news cycles, making me unable to sleep some nights until my body finally exits hypervigilance.

There's not a cure for this, or any single diagnosis, or a treatment other than to take care of myself and keep going.

I'll keep going.

I want to open up more about my mental illness experience, and what it does and how I get through it, but I'm going to warn you that my mental illness doesn't follow the discourse. It fucks the discourse. I'm a person who has decided to stop driving because I don't like how I might react to the unexpected behind the wheel, and I still vote, I make big financial decisions, heck I make winning investment picks. Sometimes I can't walk out my front door, and it's not for any logical reason, and I even know logically with my brain at the time that nothing bad will happen if I go outside. Still, sometimes I can't walk out my front door, and in those times I realize that I don't actually have to. Because last year we as a household realized that I could no longer do the things I'd done all the previous years before, that something in my mind and body had drawn a line and said I couldn't go ignore those boundaries anymore.

I can't watch TV like a "normal person." Ads really mess with me and so I often avoid commercial television, for instance. But I also have trouble sitting down and absorbing something on a screen, I'll often have to walk around, or I'll need to watch the show out of order, or see it "filtered" through commentary or memes, because that's how my brain decided I was processing that day. But the conversation I have with my spouse about the subject at the end of the day is still rich and fulfilling, because I'm still having an experience of the subject, be it a show or a video game or a news event. I just take it in in a very particular way, and sometimes that way changes depending on my mood and a bunch of other factors.

Heck, my diet changes how much I can focus and think. We're still figuring out what does what. There's a lot of rabbit holes to chase down. At some point we discuss what's worth putting up with versus what actually needs treatment, because when things aren't very clear-cut you need to prioritize. Also, having a lot of different medical issues at once means that you sometimes get overwhelmed and don't know what order to address it all in.

I communicate in GIF and youtube format on here sometimes because I don't really have a way to articulate the feeling or thought I have other than to show something that seems to encompass it all in an abstract or more psyche-oriented way. I really enjoy being able to do that here, and to get out the things I really want to express in an environment where people let me experiment with communication. Thanks to all of you for that. Except the bots. You're not sentient, and that's kind of weird.

Oh yeah. Mental illness and its interaction with hormones. Are completely ruining my ability to plan things and have been for like half a year now. So thank. For your pati. Ence.

#about: me

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snifflyjoonie · 3 years

Text

A Rose by Any Other Name

In which Min Yoongi finally takes Park Jimin out on a real, proper date.

(a little) snz-centric featuring a slightly allergic Yoongi and an incredibly endeared Jimin.

Word Count: 3855

FlowerShop!AU Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n: I...have no excuses. I’m in a mood. Bear with me again, lol. There will be a break from the boys I swear. That being said though, I still hope you guys find some enjoyment out of this silly little thing! 💕 side note if you happen to read this: for the next chapter are we wanting a yoongi focus or a jimin focus? I’m not going to give away whaaaat will be happening exactly, (you can maybe get a hint via the moodboard on my masterpost page lol) but -- If you have a preference please let me know!

It took two full weeks for Yoongi’s cold to fully make its way through Jimin’s system. To Jimin, it really hadn’t been that bad. Once his fever had broken by day three, the remaining symptoms were simply a mild nuisance more than anything else.

As he recovered, he made sure to thank Namjoon profusely for stepping in to help with his deliveries. The day off to rest had really been his saving grace, and there just weren’t enough gift baskets in the world that could truly express the proper amount of gratitude Jimin wanted to convey to his long-time friend.

Just as Namjoon had promised, the deliveries went off without a hitch, and the man had ended up genuinely enjoying the work. So much so in fact, that he offered to keep it up during the day in order to ease Jimin’s workload. Touched that Namjoon even wanted to do so, the florist had happily agreed, and the two men hurried to work out the necessary details one-on-one. Not long after, Namjoon officially became the shop’s first real employee: a much-needed delivery driver who always seemed to have a smile on his face no matter the occasion. They were an unstoppable duo.

And then, there was Yoongi.

As the two men took the time they needed to recover from each of their respected colds, they rarely missed a day of messaging. Once Yoongi had broken the ice about wanting to take Jimin on a date, there really was no stopping the mutual pining that only seemed to increase the more time they spent apart. To help combat this, Yoongi made sure not to shy away from showing up on Jimin’s doorstep once or twice to drop off things like Nyquil or ibuprofen. It was his own silly nod to the florist’s previous impromptu visit, and Jimin was always grateful whenever he’d choose to swing by, no matter how brief.

However now that it was two weeks later and both men were healthy, Jimin was in the process of getting ready for their first official date.

He had been on dates before, of course — At twenty-five he had in fact been on a lot of dates — but something about this one had felt different right from the get go. Yoongi was unique. There was just something about him that had drawn Jimin in from the moment the man had set foot into his flower shop nearly a month prior. He held himself with a mysterious air of nonchalance that reminded Jimin of strolling through an art museum or laying down in the street while it rained. He was special, and Jimin had picked up on that right away. The florist was eager to learn more about what kind of a person he was underneath the cryptic layers he guarded himself with. In fact, he almost felt privileged that Yoongi seemed to want to share a new vulnerable side of himself with him, and open up more fully.

They had planned for dinner at some fancy restaurant that Jimin wasn’t familiar with but Yoongi swore up and down by. The man’s excitement of the choice in turn amped up Jimin’s own, and it left the florist feeling like a perfect fifty-fifty mix of anticipation and uneasiness.

Not wanting to overdress, Jimin ended up deciding on an outfit that felt both comfortable yet put together. It hugged his body in all the right places and made him feel confident and secure. His figure was one of his strongest personal assets, and he enjoyed showing it off when he could. Today was definitely not an exception.

Jimin ended up ready for the date nearly a full hour before Yoongi was supposed to pick him up, and it left him spending most of his time pacing his apartment out of pure nervousness. He really liked Yoongi, and because of that, really didn’t want to mess anything up. He may’ve been a risk taker, but he was also prone to letting his anxieties get the better of him. This was especially true when it came to dates, and even more so when it came to Yoongi.

In an attempt to distract himself, Jimin spent the rest of his time flipping through channels on his television. He tried to pay attention to a handful of shows, but his mind was elsewhere — too full of what was to come to keep up with any of the bad sitcom plots.

By the time Yoongi texted him to let him know he was on his way, Jimin had flipped through at least thirty of the channels. The butterflies that swirled in his gut as he read the message caused his stomach to bubble with sour nausea. He let out a stuttering sigh and tried to calm himself down, running shaky hands through his hair before dragging them roughly down his face. He needed to snap himself out of it and he knew it. If he didn’t, he feared he might make himself sick.

Taking another unsteady breath in through his nose, Jimin allowed his mind to wander to Namjoon and the way his friend had described his ex-coworker. He had said Yoongi was quiet, but had a heart of gold; was funny, but not someone you’d want to piss off. To Namjoon, Yoongi was actually a bit of an enigma, and he didn’t shy away from letting Jimin know this. The sensitive florist had been thankful for the forewarning as he’d had his heart broken one too many times to warrant it happening again. However, instead of being scared off by the prospect, he was left feeling only intrigued — who really was Min Yoongi if even his co-workers hadn’t truly known him?

Jimin was abruptly pulled back to reality by a knock that echoed through his apartment. He swallowed thickly when he felt his heart leap into his throat and allowed himself one final deep breath to calm his nerves before rushing to the door. It was now or never.

As he pulled it open, there stood Min Yoongi.

The man was dressed in a form fitting button up that he paired with a stylish black blazer and matching slacks. It was the most put together Jimin had ever seen him, and the sight made his heart race. He took it all in, eyeing the man up and down. He honed in on the little things like the specific way his bangs rested against his eyebrows, and the way his colourful tattoos poked out from beneath his tailored sleeves. He was breathtaking, but even so, what stunned Jimin the most was the single red rose that he held delicately in his left hand.

“Hey, Jimin.” Yoongi finally spoke, smiling softly at the florist.

“Yoongi,” Jimin breathed, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “hey.”

Yoongi’s smile extended wider still, his gums poking out from beneath his lips as his eyes crinkled at the very corners. He extended the rose out to the other, and Jimin accepted it graciously.

“Before you ask, a friend of mine grows them.” He laughed at his own explanation and ran a knuckle against the underside of his nose. “I called in a favour. His are not quite as nice as yours, but I figured it would do.” He winked and Jimin instantly felt his cheeks warm as he averted his eyes, instead choosing to focus his attention on the gorgeous rose. If Yoongi kept up the sweet talking he fully expected to turn just as red as the flower in his hands.

“Anyway,” Yoongi continued as he stole a quick glance over his shoulder towards his still-running car. “Ready to get out of here?”

The city’s bustling nightlife sped by in gorgeous streaks of blues and reds as Yoongi drove the two towards their destination. Jimin was near mesmerized by the sights outside of his window as he typically didn’t spend much time on this end of the city, let alone spend said time out during the evening. He wasn’t really much of an extrovert by nature and ended up spending most of his evenings either scurrying around his shop or simply at home with a good book. He had initially pegged Yoongi as being the opposite — someone who used to bartend with Namjoon had to be as outgoing and boisterous as he. However, as he spent more time with the other, the confidence he originally had in this assumption began to falter. Now, he really didn’t know what to make of him. Getting to know Yoongi was like trying to read text in a language he wasn’t fluent in.

The pair spent the beginning of their drive in silence, the quietness of the car only being broken by Yoongi’s occasional sniffling as Jimin’s gaze stayed firmly locked onto the unexpected rose that he held in his hands. The man knew Jimin was aware of his allergy, and yet he had arrived on his doorstep with the beautiful flower anyway. Jimin was grateful, but he did find it a bit peculiar — why put yourself through the nuisance of an allergy for a simple gift? Because he was a florist? Because flowers were something he was passionate about? Maybe that was just the kind of person Yoongi was: someone who valued others’ joy over their own suffering. Jimin really didn’t know what to make of him or the gesture.

Getting fed up with the silence and his own over-analytical thoughts, Jimin forced himself to pull his attention from the rose and instead to Yoongi, and mustered up as much courage as he could to try and start up a conversation.

“So…” He managed to huff as he crossed his legs, warranting a curious side eye from the other. “Do you take all of your first dates to this place?”

The question made Yoongi snort and he shook his head a bit at Jimin’s bluntness.

“Only the special ones.” He retaliated, stealing another glance at Jimin from behind the wheel as he swiped his thumb against his nose.

“And...how many of those were there?”

There was a pause as Yoongi allowed himself a moment to search for the right answer.

“Well, just you.”

Jimin felt his face flush instantly as he let his gaze fall back down to the rose held softly in his hands. He heard Yoongi chuckle fondly at his lack-of response and felt his blush deepen still. He seemed to know just what to say to make the blood rush to Jimin’s cheeks within seconds. He’d been able to do so since the day he walked into Jimin’s flower shop, and Jimin knew he was in trouble the very moment Yoongi had opened his mouth. It had been a long time since anyone had had this type of affect on him, and the prospect of what that meant made his stomach flip. Unsure of how to respond, Jimin simply continued to let Yoongi chuckle to himself and carefully fiddled with the petals of his flower.

Just then, Yoongi’s laughter died on his tongue as a sudden wavering breath shuddered its way out of him. Acting fast, the man clamped his free hand down hard around his nose and ducked into himself, clearly trying to turn out of Jimin’s view as he forcefully stifled a sneeze into his palm.

“huh—NGx’ttschhiuew!— shit, sorry.”

“Oh, bless you.” Jimin offered sympathetically as Yoongi straightened himself back up and sniffled into his hand. “It’s the rose, isn’t it? I should’ve left it at home.”

Yoongi waved off the other’s suggestion and fished a tissue out from the pocket of his blazer, bringing it up to dab at his nose.

“No, no, you’re fine. I expected you to bring it.” He scoffed, visibly annoyed by his own allergy. “It’s really my own fault. I didn’t think only one would get to me like this. Must just be the closed space of the car.”

Jimin hummed in agreeance as Yoongi sniffled sharply against his tissue. He couldn’t help but feel bad even though the other had really dug his own grave by bringing the flower as a gift in the first place.

“I mean,” Jimin started. “if it’ll help I can just get rid of it when we get to the—”

Yoongi’s free hand snapped to his chest and he gripped his shirt as if he’d be shot.

“Jimin.” He cut off the other with an over dramatic grimace plastered on his face. “Get rid of it? You wound me.”

Jimin shook his head, unable to suppress a laugh as it bubbled its way to the surface. He had only ever gotten small glimpses of Yoongi’s sense of humour in the short time they’d known each other, so he had found himself mostly unsure of what to expect. The man had always seemed so serious and stoic whereas Jimin considered himself to be a bit of a goofball. Laughter was important to him, and the fact that Yoongi was coaxing out waves of it only solidified Jimin’s infatuation.

“Hey,” Jimin managed through another laugh. “you know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just...I remember how you got the last time, that’s all.”

“You mean how we got last time?” Yoongi retorted as he raked his fingers through his hair. There was a playful grin stuck on his face that made Jimin feel slightly self-cautious as he recalled their first encounter. Yoongi wasn’t lying — they were both a mess.

“That’s not fair.” Jimin groaned with a shake of his head. “I can’t help it.”

“Well, technically, neither can I.”

The florist let his rose fall delicately into his lap before folding his arms across his chest and sighing. Yoongi had a point, though their circumstances were vastly different.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter,” Yoongi chuckled as he expertly brought his car around a tight bend. “We’re here.”

Jimin blinked in surprise and turned his attention back out of the passenger window as the pair turned into the restaurant's parking lot.

Just from the outside alone Jimin could tell the restaurant was on the higher-end, and he couldn’t stop a small noise of surprise from slipping past his lips.

“It’s really good.” Yoongi assured him with a small sniff. Jimin wondered if the man misinterpreted his noise as apprehension. “Think...Asian-fusion. I figured since you liked sushi...” He trailed off, directing a small ticklish cough into his fist.

Jimin hummed and nodded, feeling his stomach flip as Yoongi shimmied his way out of the vehicle. After weeks of build up, the florist could scarcely believe they were finally here together going on a legitimate date. The whole situation almost felt surreal and it made his head swim as he exited the vehicle and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Jimin could smell Yoongi’s sweet cologne as the pair walked side-by-side towards the restaurant. It reminded him of fresh rain in the summertime and sweet, ripe tangerines. The smell contrasted slightly with his more intimidating outward appearance and it made Jimin smile to himself as Yoongi pulled open the heavy doors and gestured for him to go through.

Once inside, Yoongi was quick to take the reins. He led them towards the host stand and let the employee know that ‘Min’s reservation for two’ had arrived. Jimin wasn’t aware Yoongi had even made reservations. He felt himself blush as the host smiled wide, greeting Yoongi with an almost teasing-sounding ‘Mr. Min’ before grabbing two menus and instructing the pair to follow him ‘right this way’.

The table the host led them to was set off to the side in a slightly more secluded, private area. A candle burned brightly in the center of the table, illuminating the place settings and creating a romantic ambiance that made Jimin thickly swallow a lump that had lovingly decided to form in his throat.

As the host motioned for the pair to sit, Yoongi suddenly snapped at the waist with a vicious sneeze he directed into a tissue that made both Jimin and their host flinch.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry.” The blonde managed, snuffling against his tissue as both men offered taken aback ‘bless yous’.

“Catching a cold, Yoongi?” The host asked. Jimin found it a little odd he chose to call him by his first name, but Yoongi didn’t seem at all phased and instead just shook his head.

“No, it’s…” he sighed, clearly fed up with himself, and simply gestured to Jimin’s rose.

The same rose that Jimin hadn’t even realized was still clutched in his hand.

“Oh my god,” He exclaimed, taking a slight side step away from Yoongi. “I swear I didn’t even realize I was still holding onto this, I—” He swiveled in the direction of the host and extended the flower out to him with pleading eyes. “I’m so sorry, would you be able to keep this in the back until we’re finished? I don’t want to make him—”

Yoongi sneezed again.

“—don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

The host happily obliged without hesitation, and Jimin was just able to make out the look of appreciation Yoongi shot him as they both took their seats.

As soon as the pair was settled, the host wasted no time listing off the restaurant’s specials as he held the rose behind his back. Jimin’s mind was buzzing too loudly to register much of what the man said, and when he ended by asking if he could grab any drinks, all Jimin could think to say was “water, please.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asked as he shoved his tissue back into his pocket. “Tonight’s on me, Jimin. Get whatever you like.”

Jimin flushed but insisted he was fine. Yoongi just shrugged and ordered himself some sort of cocktail that Jimin had vaguely registered as being both the restaurant's signature as well as on special that evening.

The host smiled and Jimin thought he saw him waggle his eyebrows at Yoongi before walking off to enter in their drink orders. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Do you...know him?” Jimin questioned curiously.

“Who, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked, jutting his thumb in the direction that the host had gone. Jimin recognized the name from the host’s name tag and nodded in confirmation.

“Sort of.” Yoongi affirmed. “I’ve tattooed him a couple of times. Good kid, just goofy.”

Jimin hummed in response. He was aware that Yoongi was a tattoo artist but beyond that the man had never gone into much detail. For one reason or another, Jimin found it intriguing to get to see Yoongi’s clientele out in the wild.

Before long, Jungkook returned with their drinks, causing Jimin’s eyes to widen as he set down not only a glass of water but a second cocktail as well. He opened his mouth to object, but snapped it shut again when Jungkook winked and assured them it was on the house. Yoongi merely rolled his eyes for a second time and mumbled something about how he would make sure to sneak the kid a tip on their way out.

Now alone for a moment as they waited for their server to arrive, Yoongi wasted no time letting Jimin know what he thought was good, what the place was famous for, and what he recommended the other to try. Jimin couldn’t help but feel endeared by his uncharacteristic enthusiasm and insisted Yoongi order him whatever he thought was best. Once their server arrived — a cheerful man whose name tag read ‘Hoseok’ — Yoongi did just that.

“If you don’t like it, just let me know.” Yoongi instructed, swiping his forefinger against his nose. “I have no problem ordering you something else.”

“I’ll like it.” Jimin giggled, feeling his cheeks grow warm from a combination of giddiness and the few sips he had taken of his cocktail. “I’m not picky, so please don’t worry. I’ll try anything once.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows at the statement and softly chuckled. It wasn’t until he responded that Jimin fully registered what had come out of his own mouth.

“I mean, it’s only our first date but...I guess that’s good to know.”

Jimin choked on another sip of his cocktail and made a grab for his cloth napkin, bringing it up to mouth to try and suppress a series of sputtering coughs. The whole display only seemed to make Yoongi laugh harder and he winked at the other as Hoseok swung by to drop off their appetizers.

Jimin let out a sigh as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, murmuring an apology to Yoongi to which the blonde simply waved off. As Jimin readjusted, Yoongi was quick to explain which appetizer was which, and Jimin was more than happy to listen to him. There was something about Yoongi’s voice that he found naturally mesmerizing, and Jimin truly believed he could listen to him talk about absolutely anything for hours on end. Yoongi could easily make a story about watching paint dry sound like a New York Times bestseller.

The blonde was in the process of passing over a pair of chopsticks when the florist noticed his eyes start to unfocus mid-sentence. He raised an eyebrow curiously and opened his mouth to ask if everything was alright when Yoongi suddenly cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath.

“hHA’ISSHHhh’iuh!”

He fell into himself with a harsh sneeze he couldn’t contain; leaving delicate wet spots splayed haphazardly across the middle of his white button up shirt. He swore immediately and made a grab for his cloth napkin as a rosy red colour started to creep across his cheeks.

“Bless you.” Jimin managed, desperately trying to ignore the way his own sinuses had started to prickle. He sniffled sharply and prayed it would be enough to alleviate the oncoming sensation. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just…” Yoongi blew out a breath, clearly embarrassed as he straightened himself back upwards. “Look, I’m really sorry about...all of this.” he gestured to himself with a self deprecating chuckle before continuing. “I’m starting to think the rose wasn’t my smartest idea. I just thought only one might not…” He trailed off with a shake of his head.

“You have no reason to be sorry.” Jimin reassured with a soft smile. “But for next time...I like chocolates, too.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at this.

“Next time, huh?” he echoed, his dark eyes glowing intensely.

Jimin swallowed. Yoongi’s eyes were like the deepest part of the ocean and nearly twice as mysterious. He could hardly read the expression that sat just beyond them, and it made him fidget in his seat. Had he possibly overstepped his bounds? Had he been too cocky? Did Yoongi think he was —

All of Jimin’s intrusive thoughts were abruptly squashed as Yoongi reached across the table and interlocked his index finger gently with Jimin’s own. His hand was warm, aside from the cool metal of his rings, and he ran his thumb tenderly across Jimin’s knuckle with the smallest hint of a smile on his face.

“I think I’d like that,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Jimin breathed. “Me too.”

#remember when i said i like to keep my writings platonic #lol oops #clearly these two mfs are my acception #sorry about my flowershop!au spam pls don't hate me #mine #bts sickfic #allergic!yoongi #bts au #yoonmin #and u know who u are but thank u for the proofread i would die for you #bts snzfic #bts snz

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