#work and health is keeping me occupied and tired too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

guqin-and-flute · 4 months

Text

Are You Here to Stop Me? –Ch. 7 [Peony to Lotus!Verse, Yaoli]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5][Chapter 6] [First post in Peony to Lotus Verse]

[Ao3 Series]

[CW: Mention of blood, canon and era typical internalized ableism and misogyny from Yanli]

"You're sure you don't need me to get your parasol, furen?"

Yanli opened her eyes to the buttery autumn sun and smiled up at her maid, who hovered by her elbow like a nervous bird. "A-Si, I’m fine--” she began to insist, gently.

But the girl was already spinning, hurrying away up the garden path and calling back over her shoulder; “I’d better get it, just in case! I’ll be right back!”

With a sigh of fond surrender, Yanli settled back into her heavily cushioned chair, hands resting on her stomach. Nothing moved inside, yet, and it was no more round than it ever was, but there was life there. Wen Qing--Qing-mei, as she had begun to call her in the weeks they had spent so much time together--was certain of it.

Yanli was certain of it, now, as well. In the weeks following the diagnosis, she had felt the changes beginning, quite apart from her the recovery symptoms of lingering wet heaviness in her chest. There was the horrid nausea and sickness in the mornings, the aversion to foods she once loved, a craving for foods of a strange combination. Her belly didn’t look any different, but it certainly felt fuller. And she was so tired. Wen Qing had assured her and A-Yao that it was normal when she was recovering as well as metabolizing for 2.

And ever since the fact had “accidentally” gotten its way around to the rest of her family, as well as the Wen, the servants, and disciples, she was being treated as if she might trip and fall to pieces at any moment--treatment which she amiably bore. Even if it was excessive. Would such pampering really go on for 9 whole months? Her health had always been fragile but now, she hardly had a moment alone!

“You’ve hardly grown at all, yet, and everyone is taking such good care of you,” she murmured down to her own belly, slowly rubbing it.

She wasn’t certain exactly how news got out, as she and A-Yao had intended to wait the 3 customary months to announce the pregnancy--but somehow, everyone in Lotus Pier now knew. She might have suspected A-Xian, with his mischievous streak as wide as the lake, or A-Cheng, who was truly terrible at keeping any secret back from his face; but it just as well might have been given away by the fact that she couldn’t stop cradling her middle or the way that A-Yao’s doting attention on her had increased tenfold.

Besides, A-Xian was far too preoccupied working himself ragged reviving poor Wen Ning, and A-Cheng too busy entrenched in the steps of that cutthroat political dance he must perform to gossip with anyone. It took all of their attention just to keep this whole affair afloat.

She let out a sigh, watching her belly rise and fall with her breath, the tiny purple beads on her hanfu sparkling with every movement. They were all now in an uncomfortable stalemate—which, she supposed, was better than one of the alternatives, being outright war. From what she heard of the initial meeting, it had been tense and heavy, just barely above outright threats. Yanli was just as happy not to have been in any shape to go to Koi Tower and have to face anyone there. A-Cheng seemed incredibly stressed about the outcome, from what she had seen of him, and Yao seemed unhappy, but simply assured her that it was to be expected, assured them all that his father was keeping a wary eye on the other Sects. Jin Guangshan was too politically savvy, he said, to act purely from anger. They still had time to maneuver. And other meetings scheduled.

Even then, they had received plenty of correspondence of outrage, from rival and allied Sects alike—some even from their own people. They had not forgotten the pain of being occupied as a Supervisory Office. The wounds of the loss of all of those in the Lotus Pier compound were not even scarred over, yet, still red and furious. A-Yao was doing things behind the scenes to work on public opinion, but had once described it as carefully walking a tightrope. Yanli would agree, and secretly add that it felt as if it were one high in the air, above crashing waters and hungry mouths. The Jiang still held a strong standing in the jianghu, solid reputation held there equally by the legacy of their parents and A-Cheng's monumental success in the rebuilding of their Sect at his age.

But the children of the Jiang knew better than anyone, save perhaps the other Clans wiped out by the Qishan Wen, to never rely on that remaining true. They were not safe yet. There were miles yet to go, in this.

She wished she could be of more help, but she was still too weak to do much else besides be led about to bask in the shade, as she did now. Today was the first time in a long time she had felt well enough to consider reading, or perhaps embroidery. Maybe even cooking something simple, if she had help. And, in truth, there was not much she could do amidst the street gambler’s Shell Game they were attempting to pull with the Wen amidst the already complicated match of go they always played with the rest of the jianghu.

And so, the leak of who told who about the pregnancy remained a mystery. It didn’t truly bother her; the excitement and congratulations, A-Yuan’s sweet, probing questions. She was just as relieved to be able to not have to keep a secret on top of the upwelling of emotions that swamped her daily. Elation. Terror. Anticipation. Pride. Anxiety. Satisfaction. And, of course, love.

Most of all love.

She had hardly been able to properly absorb what Wen Qing was saying that day, to express the elation and terror that coursed through her--and through A-Yao as well, if the shock in his pale face had been anything to go by--before Qing-mei had somehow herded him out of their room after A-yuan and closed the door firmly behind them. “Jiang-furen,” she had said, coming to sit on the edge of her bed. There was an edge of steel in her face and tone that was nowhere to be found in the gentle hands that folded around Yanli's own. “Please, speak freely. Tell me the truth. Is this what you want?”

Exhaustion had sapped into her bones, as wet and heavy as her breath. “Is…what?” she had trailed off, dizzy.

Wen Qing, seeing this, had first helped her settle back down flat onto her pillows. When the gnawing swirling in her gut and head had abated, slightly, Qing-mei continued, unflinchingly; “This pregnancy. If this isn't what you want, there are ways I can help you that no one will be able to detect. If you are being pressured by Jin Guangyao to--”

“What? A-Yao?“ Yanli had repeated on a laugh more of startlement than humor that had turned into a coughing fit.

As it had squeezed her already sore middle, a strange, aware panic had suddenly overcome her--would coughing so hard hurt the pregnancy? She had curled around her stomach and tried to stifle them, with limited success. From now on, she would be housing another that would share in her discomforts. The thought was…unimaginable.

When the coughing had finally passed, she had gasped, weakly, “Ah, oh no, no…this was planned, we both want to start…. I...we didn't expect...I'm just surprised, I suppose.”

The worried disbelief on Qing-mei’s face had made her close her eyes in weariness, praying for patience and words enough to convince her. She would not live through another well meaning woman trying to pry her marriage apart at the seams because they did not think he deserved her. How to explain to them a husband who laid every choice at her feet? How to properly convey just how safe she had been made to feel in her own marriage? The easiest love she had ever been gifted? “You have gotten the wrong impression, meimei, I'm delighted, I'm...I'm....” Going to have a baby. A baby!

The thought had made her more lightheaded still, either with giddiness, terror, or a combination of the two, she hadn't quite been able to tell.

Even then, it had taken a significant amount of effort to convince her suspicious sister-in-law that, no, her husband was not impregnating her in some sneaky bid to solidify a place of power in their Clan; no, he did not scare, control, or force her; no, he had not been the one to somehow put the idea of transferring her own core to A-Xian into her head. That had been there a while all on its own.

It was still close enough to the failed conversations she had had with Madam Jin that she might have begun to feel the same helpless frustration, if Wen Qing hadn't subsided into a still suspicious acceptance of her wishes and the quickly growing whirlwind of shimmering excitement hadn’t begun swarming through her limbs as every time she said ‘my baby’ and ‘our child’, the future seemed that much more tangible.

And Qing-mei meant well, Yanli knew. Whatever she had seen in A-Yao in their time at the Scorching Sun Palace had clearly scared her deeply, and Yanli wasn't going to dismiss that. Her husband was cunning and clever, able to change faces with the ease of a passing cloud when he needed to. She had seen it herself and she could not, would not deny it. But she knew his heart, knew that he was also kind, sweet, gentle, and frightened--she loved him for all of it. That included the parts he regretted, the parts that Wen Qing hated. Yanli would never have anything to fear from him.

She could tell that Wen Qing still thought she was either helplessly hoodwinked or naive, but she seemed at least satisfied that Yanli wanted this for herself and her family and did not bring up the idea again. In fact, each new day she got to spend with the girl, she seemed to be a little more relaxed. At least she had far more color in her face and light in her eyes than when she had first laid eyes on her in that Lanling forest, looking as much like a corpse as her brother--just a walking one. Yet, even with the improvements to her health and mood, even after weeks, she and A-Cheng still circled each other warily. They practically fled the room whenever they saw that the other had entered.

It might have been amusing if it weren’t so tragic.

How did one matchmake a couple who was, effectively, already married? Yanli thought that she might be able to have some clue, seeing how her and A-Yao’s love had blossomed with care and time, but if the two wouldn’t even share the same air….It reminded her uncomfortably of their parents’ relationship; prickly silence and separate rooms across the Pier. It raised ugly gooseflesh down her back to think of A-Cheng resigning himself to be as miserable in marriage as they clearly had been. She might not have dared to think so as a child, but after her own delightful marriage, knowing what it could feel like…she wept for her parents and all that they had become. For what they both so clearly wanted but didn’t know how to get without sacrificing parts of themselves they refused to let go of, for better or worse.

A-Cheng and Qing-mei didn’t need to love each other. Yanli knew the seed of love was there, in her brother at least, knew that yearning look in his eye. She had seen him as a teenager eagerly waiting for her eye to turn to him--a warming Wen sun, not a burning one. Everything had become hopelessly tangled with rage and regret and duty and grief during the murder of their Clan and the war. But irreparably so? She hoped not. They didn’t need to love each other, but Yanli would have them at least comfortable in their living with each other. She would love to actually host a real wedding for them, one day, in private.

What little she could do for A-Cheng, she tried, probing him gently once in a while--when he had a spare moment to visit, which wasn’t often. She complimented the clothes he had admitted to ordering for Wen Qing; robes in a spectrum of rich plums, burgundies, and muted magentas--red the undertones of each. “Did she ask for those colors in particular?”

“No.” His whole affect always sagged, dulled whenever she gently probed him about his wife and he would stare at his hands.

“Did you choose them yourself, then?”

“...Yes. I…Yes.”

She had been delighted to be surprised by this, though she shouldn’t have been--he had always been a smart dresser with a keen eye for color. Besides some of her Jiang shimei’s and the tailor, she had specifically sought his opinion on her own wedding outfit. He and A-Xian had been planning her entire wedding since they were 8, after all, he was bound to have opinions. And he certainly had--her wedding dress had had both of her brother’s stamps of approval.

Lately, when he came by, he was always well groomed, but could feel the stress humming through him and behind his tired eyes. He could act so prickly, she wondered if anyone was pestering him to make sure he slept well. If they would let themselves, she was sure a wife would be a perfect person to do so. Whenever Yanli tried, he would just say that she shouldn’t worry about him with everything going on with her, that he was sleeping fine, and would proceed to fuss over her instead.

“A-Cheng, what’s troubling you?”

“Nothing, jiejie.”

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetling.

“I don’t have the time to worry about pretending to be married, right now.”

“You could just try talking to her, you know. Just…start a conversation.”

His face scrunched up in a combination of self derision, confusion, and agony, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes. Waiting, she had stroked his hand where it lay balled up on her blanket, his knuckles a pale bite against the rich emerald and purple. “I wouldn’t know what to talk about,” he had finally said, shortly, his voice more of a mumble than the gruff dismissive tone she thought he might have been aiming for.

“You could ask her what she’s feeling, how she likes it here.”

“I don’t think I want to know.” He was staring down at her bedspread, bleakly, tight lines of worry between his brows.

When she had reached up to try to smooth them away, admonishing his doubt with a gentle, “A-Cheng--” he had caught her hand and pressed the backs of her knuckles against his cheek, eyes squeezed shut. After a sharp, indrawn breath, he had announced that he needed to go--and she needed to rest. There was nothing more she could say without making him flee faster.

What a mess all of this was.

Qing-mei was not much more of a help on that front. And Yanli was even less inclined to force her, poor girl--they didn’t have the history and she didn’t want to trap her. Every time she brought up A-Cheng or their marriage or what she felt about the whole relationship, she clammed up and grew solemn. “I’m grateful to Jiang-zongzhu. To all of you,” was all she would ever say, regarding their arrangement.

At least Yanli had finally convinced her to stop calling her Jiang-furen, insisting that if they were going to be sisters now, it only made sense. She had confided in the younger woman that she had never had a little sister before, that she was excited to have someone to call ‘meimei’. At that, quite apart from her unflappable, self assured doctorly attitude, Qing-mei had offered, shyly, that she had never been a little sister before and that she found the idea quite odd. This tacit acceptance of the role delighted Yanli beyond words.

Qing-mei had taken to visiting her long past the time she had finished checking and treating her, taking tea and meals in her room either A-Yao came back or Yanli would, embarrassingly. fall asleep mid sentence. They hadn’t been able to visit like this very often when she had sheltered them in Yiling--Wen Qing would be called away and there had been work to be done, healing A-Cheng. Now, though, they had time and privacy, and their conversations would wander both wide and deep, over being elder sisters to trouble-prone younger brothers, about their shared time in Yiling, their mothers, their favorite books. Qing-mei was very clearly reluctant to confide her worries in her, whether in not wanting to cause her further stress or simply due to her own innate reservation, and so their conversations rarely included fears or the far future.

But, sometimes, she would talk about Wei Wuxian’s progress and Wen Ning. “I don’t know what I’m more afraid of,” she had whispered one evening as the sun set outside, stock still next to Yanli’s bed, staring at the screen that threw spindly shadows of willow’s fingers across like thrashing ropes. “The idea that he may never come back. Or that he might…and I don’t know what he will be.” She had turned her head then, her neck and spine braced bravely, but her large, sweet eyes shining with tears in the low lantern light. “Da-gu, he’s so cold,” she had choked, barely audible.

When Yanli had sat forward and reached out her arms, there was no hesitation when Qing-mei huddled into them, shaking silently.

Yanli herself had not yet seen what was left of Qing-mei’s gentle brother since she had landed at Lotus Pier, barely conscious herself. It hurt her heart to remember the shy, earnest boy she had seen attempting to become invisible behind his sister, despite his standing several inches taller than her at the Cloud Recesses what felt like eons ago. She hardly knew a thing about him, and all she did was through Xianxian and Qing-mei’s eyes. Hopefully there was a future possible for them to get to know each other on their own terms.

Though she wholeheartedly believed in Xianxian’s brilliance and dogged tenacity, she had to admit…a conscious fierce corpse had never been achieved before. And the work was hard and damaging. It had scared her when she had finally seen what A-Xian had looked like after a week of what was clearly just a diet of half forgotten food and resentful energy. She had found him in the family shrine just a few days ago, when it was too rainy to sit outside comfortably. The early autumn had been washing warm, wet storms over them almost daily, but often, they came and went within minutes and she would patiently await the sun beneath a tree and her parasol. That day, however, the day woke to rain, and it had stayed, churning the lake cloudy with disturbed particulates.

Though she enjoyed a good walk in the rain, everyone--A-Yao, A-Cheng, He Si, Qing-mei, Liu-popo, her childhood doctor-- had cautioned against going out in it when she was still fragile, and so her maid had helped her shuffle slowly across shining walkways and summer-verdant ponds pebbled with raindrops, huddled together under a waxed parasol and cloak. When she saw a hunched, dark shape within, she had paused at the door, squinting into the incense and candle warmed gloom within. When she recognized the set of her brother’s shoulders, she had quietly dismissed He Si with a lift of her chin.

A-Xian had looked up when she moved from the fresh, silvery air of the outside to the space of quietly splashing water and remembered prayers. Immediately, the comforting hiss and patter of rain receded even more when she slid the door shut, leaving them surrounded only by the pale darkness of the ornate lotus screen panels--a private little universe. When she turned, A-XIan was already there, helping her out of her cloak, taking the dripping parasol from her hand. “Shijie! Are you sure you should be up?” The shadows beneath his eyes were dark and he had missed a spot on his jaw shaving this morning.

“I don’t think staying in bed for the rest of my pregnancy would be good for me or my baby, A-XIan.” She had softened the already gentle jibe by brushing back the hair from his face and patting his cheek, feeling the prickle under her fingers. “Help me to the cushions?”

He, of course, did, supporting her elbow, his other hand wrapped protectively around her far shoulder. The scent that clung to him was sharp and unpleasant, wholly unlike the memories she associated with him. Long ago, she had buried her nose in the top of his little boy head, and would breathe in soap and sunshine and love--and now, as a man, he used to smell like the spices he liked to eat and something fresh. Now, he smelled like…danger, soot, blood. That alone would have unnerved her. But when they sat next to each other and her eyes adjusted, she could take in the whole of him.

“I know, I know, I look terrible. I look worse than I feel, don’t worry,” he waved off her eye’s widening with feigned ease, smiling.

He had lost weight quickly, leaving him hollow cheeked and wan. His hair was only hastily brushed, his topknot uneven, slightly lopsided, and his eyes were bloodshot. On his hands, cinnabar, soot, and old blood was smeared, half-heartedly wiped, then smeared again, darkening around his nails. “A-Xian,” she had intoned with enough force that he immediately sat up straight, sucking in his lips like a child caught out doing something he knew he shouldn’t be doing. “After we talk, you’re going to take a bath and eat a full meal outside your room. Alright?”

“Really, I’m--”

“A-Xian!” She had broken in, frowning, eyebrows drawn down.

He hunkered down, pouting as he muttered, “Yes, Shijie.” Tilting doleful eyes and pushed out lip up at her, he then whined, “Shijieeee, don’t be mad at me. I’ll do better. Sorry if I’m smelly.” To illustrate this, he theatrically lifted up his sleeve to sniff it, then wrinkled his nose in real distaste. “Ugh. Alright, I get it.”

With a sigh, she had reached for his hands. He had seemed to wake to what was on them and scrubbed his palms on his thighs before taking them. “It’s not that, Xianxian, you know that. I’m worried about you. I’m worried about both of you.”

Apparently, he and A-Cheng had also been warily circling each other, like they did after most fights. Their spats, she had heard from a combination of A-Yao, He Si, and Qing-mei were more mundane and brotherly, now, weeks later--though they ended as often with eye rolling and secret smiles as hurt feelings and tight lipped silences. It had been bad right after their return, she had heard--A-Cheng storming around with a poisonous temper for days and A-Xian working on Wen Ning all hours of the day and night, refusing to leave his room. She hated that she had to hear about it second hand, that they visited her one at a time, that when she was able to emerge from her room, they were often away, doing what they could. She wasn’t around to soothe their rough edges from grinding against the other.

Qing-mei was with her the most, A-Yao a close second, when he wasn’t helping A-Cheng or something else that needed doing around the Pier. Xianxian had only come in a few times, sometimes too exhausted to do anything but drape himself over the edge of her bed and childishly request hair stroking, which she, of course, gave. Once, a day or two after she had discovered she was pregnant, apparently deciding that she was well enough for a scolding, he had come and very seriously told her to never even think about giving him her core again. “Aren’t you glad Wen Qing said no to that nonsense?” he had demanded, frowning at her in displeasure.

Yanli thought it was rich of him being so incensed about it, but she had let it go. “I wasn’t…I don’t remember doing it. It was the fever, I think.”

“Well, don’t even go thinking it!” he had said, fierceness belayed by him anxiously petting at her arm. “Put it out of your head! Alright?”

She thought about a great many things that she didn’t share with him. It wasn’t something she thought of…constantly. Or even very often. It was just something that had reared its head when she had learned of what A-Xian and Wen Qing had done. When he had sat before A-Cheng and herself with A-Yao by his side and tried to pretend it wasn’t the worst thing they had ever heard. She felt sick when she remembered it--sick for both her brothers. She couldn’t think about it too long, or….

But she was, indeed, glad that Qing-mei had stoutly refused her delirious babble. Her core, weak and pitiful as it was, was going to have to support her and this child through her pregnancy. At least it was finally good for something.

With a start, Yanli blinked out of her hazy, sunwarmed ruminations of the past few weeks and back into the garden, now shaded a brilliant blue from the after images her orange eyelids had left. She couldn’t have been dozing long, for she could hear footsteps returning back down the path. But something in the back of her mind perked up at their familiarity and the knowledge that it wasn’t He Si’s stride. Delighted, she levered herself back entirely upright in the chair and twisted around to see her husband emerging from around the dwarf maple whose leaf edges flirted with gold. “A-Yao!”

“I’ve brought you something, Jiang-furen,” he announced with a twinkle of humor in his dimples, presenting her favorite scalloped, lavender parasol, dotted with intricate plum blossoms on a branch. “He Si was very keen that you have it.”

She laughed and shook her head, reaching out to him for a greeting kiss, which he warmly bestowed on her. He smelled and tasted lovely, like he had been walking around out in the fresh air all day. “She frets so much. It couldn’t have anything to do with you fretting so much, could it? Is she coming back?”

“I dismissed her for other duties, as I assumed you might wish to spend time together.”

Delights up on delights! “Oh, always!”

He helped her up from her chair and walked pressed to her side, his arm sure and firm around her, his fingertips brushing her belly beneath her sleeve, out of sight from passing eyes. Oh, A-Yao; her beloved, tangled up A-Yao.

Despite his calm outward face, was so clearly terrified by everything about this, including the prospect of not being by her side at every moment. He was constantly on the move, organizing and advising and assisting and whatever else his clever mind decided that they needed--but in between all this, he would appear anxiously at her side at all hours, asking what he could do, if He Si was attending to her properly, if she needed something. Come to think of it…perhaps she had better make sure her husband had no overt hand in her maid’s currently overly fretful state.

She was fairly certain he was more scared than she was about the prospect of becoming a parent, which was endearing, considering she was the one that would have to give birth and not him. He hid it quite admirably, even for him, buried underneath the more typical worry for her--and now, the baby’s--health. And he clearly planned to “burden” her with none of it. But she could see it in his eyes, could feel it in the way he held her.

When they had discovered she was with child, that night, he had asked to make love to her, and had done so exquisitely sweetly. Well, every time they had made love so far had been sweet, but that night, he had been even more tender, more warm and attentive than ever before. Every press of his skin had been gentle enough that she could barely feel where he began and she ended. Ever since then, he had been treating her as if she were made of precious glass. From him, her husband, she happily accepted the attention. The way that he doted on her never made her feel lessened, like he thought she was some incapable child or weak, silly girl. It only made her feel wanted and precious.

He had been appalled that he had let her go on the arduous trip to find Wei Wuxian, and when she had asked with her expression, smiling softly; Let me?, he had amended that he should have begged her to come back with him to Lotus Pier. She had had to remind her that she couldn’t have. A-Yao had simply sighed deeply and said that he knew. Running her hands over his jaw, where the yellow-brown ghosts of the bruises on his jaw from Zixun were finally no longer visible, she had said, “I’ll be careful now. And so should you, yes?”

He had kissed her slowly into sleep.

Now, together, they agreed to try some cooking in the smaller kitchen, so as not to get in the way of the cooks. It was the most activity than she had attempted in days, but there was no tremble to her hands and her muscles felt like actual muscles today, instead of some wet, quivering mud. Standing felt good instead of arduous. And she would never get her strength back if she lived in a chair for the next 9 months. This kitchen was more cluttered than the main one, and a little darker for the smaller windows, but by no means dirty--it also gave them the added benefit of privacy. It was because of this, she was certain, that A-Yao felt comfortable enough to press up behind her as she stood at the counter and sliced up figs. His arms rested comfortably about her waist, palms pressed to her belly and chin resting on her shoulder as he observed her work. Though his whole front pressed warmly against her back, there was no lascivious invitation in it, only closeness and trust. In public, he was not overtly performative with his affection; a supporting arm while walking here, laying a hand atop hers there. It was when they were alone he felt he could cautiously touch her more freely, as if the eyes of others made his love something lewd. Well…she supposed that might in fact be a concern for him. No matter. Whether a peck in private, a brush of her cheek in public and everything in between--and sometimes more--she adored it all.

“I’m not going to fall over, A-Yao,” she teased. “I’ll let you know if I need to sit down.”

“Of course,” he answered easily, but did not move away, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

Contended, she hummed and paused in her knife strokes, laying her cheek atop his shoulder. A golden glow, at once fierce and tender, had a permanent place in her chest nowadays. It had nothing to do with her fading illness and everything to do with this bright new future she had been gifted. She was so lucky.

Outside the widow, across the courtyard, someone screamed.

A-Yao spun her back from the window as the bright afternoon outside was split with a crash, an inhuman roar, and more screams, one right after the other. Yanli stumbled, pressed herself against the far wall, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs. Icy gooseflesh cascaded over skin, her stomach knotted in fear. A-Yao, a dagger suddenly in hand, was peering out the window, motionless. She couldn’t see anything from her angle and the leaves outside, but the wild screaming, the roaring continued. The sound of running feet. “What is it?” she whispered, voice pressed thin.

He only wordlessly shook his head, scanning back and forth. A tree stood in front of the window, she knew, obscuring most of the view of the outside.

What on earth could it be? Lotus Pier was protected, there were talismans and wards and--

A-Cheng bellowed something, voice harsh with fear.

A-Cheng.

“A-Li, no--!” A-Yao’s shout followed her out the door, but she couldn’t stop.

Her brother was in trouble. I won’t be left behind again, I can’t, I can’t--

The courtyard stones flew beneath her feet, then the bridge and she could see, flashing into her mind like blinding light off of waves. A-Cheng, across the walkway, Sandu flashing in the sun, Zidian crackling. Still bellowing, pointing. Disciples running to him as quickly as the servants flooded away, wailing in terror. A towering black figure on the other side of the ornamental pond, wreathed in writhing smoke. It ripped out another unearthly snarl as it flung something big away from itself. A body, a person, flailing in midair, screaming. A snap as they crashed through a carved banister and landed in a sickening, motionless heap, a loose pink ribbon fluttering to earth behind them. “He Si!”

A hand clamped on her arm as she started forward. A-Yao had caught up. “A-Li!”

“We can’t! A-Si!” She struggled forward, clutching his sleeve, dragging him along.

Shouts and screams bled into the pounding in her ears, pulse a frantic bird in her head that shrieked. She was only across the walkway, only a dozen steps away. Clangs, a thump, a grunt--oh gods! Then she heard A-Cheng’s voice still shouting orders--not him. A-Yao’s face was sharp and hard. His other hand rose to her shoulder. He was going to pick her up and carry her away, saw his thoughts written like script across his face and she couldn’t, she clutched at him and pleaded, “No, please! A-Yao, please, please!” They couldn’t just leave her here, bleeding, in danger!

His eyes darted, then his pull changed, urging her forward, running with her instead of pulling her back. Her movements were loose with fear, jerky and wild and she nearly fell up the steps onto the walkway. Blood covered the girl's face, pooling crimson rapidly onto the shining wood around her. They bent, dragging her back to get better purchase on her limp body. Her feet dragged pitifully. Yanli’s hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t close them around her arms properly. One still held the knife from the kitchen. She had forgotten she still had it.

The girl wasn’t moving. A-Yao hefted her torso up in his arms, turned to her, opened his mouth--

A fresh wave of screams.

“Jiejie!” A-Cheng’s voice cracked from across the second bridge as she heard a shuffle of wind, a thump behind them and suddenly, the roots of her teeth ached, and that smell--the sharp, burning metal-blood smell that clung to A-Xian--flooded her.

Looking up, the sun blinded her for a split second before vicious smoke--resentful energy stung her eyes, flooded her throat--white hand filled her vision. Then, something canoned into her side, knocking her away to sprawl away from He Si. Blood and sky spun around her. Battlefield gore, fear, death choked her throat. Gasping, coughing, she scrambled, to her hands and knees, head whirling. When she looked up, her entire body went ice cold and all she could hear in the world was screaming.

It was Wen Ning, black veins sprawling across his face, the empty white holes of his eyes fixed on who he now held by the throat. A-Yao, who had knocked her aside.

No!

Even though the foul resentful energy wreathing them both, her husband’s eyes were alight with more rage than fear, teeth bared. He had already buried his dagger hilt deep in Wen Ning’s chest, right in his heart. The fierce corpse vented another noise human throats should not be able to make and lifted A-Yao, like he was light as a rag, off his feet. Thrashing, choking, A-Yao brought up a leg to kick the dagger hilt deeper, another already in his other hand.

Wen Ning’s other hand shot out, latched around his wrist. Yanli felt the snap in her chest more than heard it. His dagger clanged to the ground. She could see those fingers closing further, like a vise, crushing. A-Yao made no sound--couldn’t, his throat was squeezed, he couldn’t--he couldn’t--

Screaming--she was screaming, that noise was her--she stumbled up, forward, swinging the kitchen knife up to hack at Wen Ning’s arms, wrists, anything to free her husband. She was close enough that the writhing mist stung like nettles over her skin when something collided with her again, knocking her back from them, sending the knife clattering away from her grip. Qing-mei clung to her, dragged her back, shouting something into her ear. She fought against her, still screaming. He had A-Yao!

It had been only moments since Wen Ning had landed behind them, but time was boiling, stretching, bursting around them. No no no no no--

Crackling, blinding purple wrapped around Wen Ning’s pale throat, pulled tight and he at least dropped A-Yao’s arm, snarling, clawing at it. Zidian. A-Cheng was there, yanking back on Zidian hard enough to bow Wen Ning’s spine back. But he still had A-Yao’s throat clenched in his grip, still held him up entirely as he kicked at him, hands locked on Wen Ning’s wrist.

“A-Ning, stop! Stop!” Wen Qing cried, arms still knotted around Yanli, still dragging her back as she struggled.

The disciples clamored nearer, shouting, flinging talismans that sizzled into ash as soon as they met the corona of energy spilling from Wen Ning. Some were already limping, bleeding, and A-Cheng shouted at them to stay back. A piercing, chilling note shrieked above the clamor, freezing Wen Ning still as stone.

A-Xian.

Frantically, Yanli searched for him, found him pelting around the corner of the Banquet Hall, Chenqing at his lips. “Wei Wuxian!” A-Cheng roared over at him. “Make him stop!”

A-Xian was pale and wide eyed as his fingers flew over the black lacquer of his flute. He skidded to a halt to suck in a huge breath and trill a complicated, twisting melody that raised all the hairs on Yanli’s body. A shudder went through Wen Ning like a wave across the pond and he began to shake. A quiet, abrupt gasp broke from A-Yao’s lips, as if the fingers around his throat had loosened fractionally. But his face was almost blue, eyes rolling back--and black veins were snaking from under the fierce corpse’s palm.

“A-YAO!”

In that instant of brief stillness, like a shadow, A-Cheng rose up from behind Wen Ning, Zidian pulled taut in his hand, Sandu raised--his face was dark as a thundercloud, death in his eyes. “Zongzhu!” Qing-mei’s gasped, “Husband, please! Don’t hurt him!”

A-Cheng’s hesitated, eyes flickered, his killing intent cracked. “A-Cheng!” Yanli shrieked, fighting and thrashing, throat raw.

She didn’t even know what she was begging him to do. All she knew was that A-Yao was now just twitching instead of kicking and she could not get free.

A-Cheng’s face hardened as Chenqing’s tone shrilled up and down a haunting scale, and, with a huge heave, he wrenched Zidian back. The frozen Wen Ning toppled down sideways with the force of it, collapsing both he and A-Yao over into the ornamental lotus pond beside them with a splash. Yanli no longer had to break free of Wen Qing’s grip, for they were both racing to the pond as fast as they could.

But A-Cheng slid in front of them, flinging out his arms to block them both with his chest as Chenqing’s notes cut off, A-Xian’s panicked voice instead yelling out a warning; Wen Ning reared up from the water behind him, roaring, thrashing, and splashing.

A-Yao did not.

#Yaoli #jgy #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #jyl #peony to lotus #my stuff #rarepair #mdzs #the untamed #my fic #the untamed fanfic #Well hellooooo there :3 (said while showing up a year later with the update)#I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY I TRIED TO GIVE YOU A NICE BREAK BEFORE ACTION AND ANGST AGAIN 😬 But don't worry every little thing's gonna be alright #The next chapter will be from Xichen's POV!#I may come back and do some editing of grammar things because I've rearranged it a few times

54 notes · View notes

kimbap-r0ll · 1 year

Note

Hi!! I hope you are doing well! May I please request Riddle,Azul,Vil,Idia and Malleus with a gn!reader that gets frequent nightmares so they end up not sleeping well or not even trying to sleep because they don't want nightmares?

Hi, thank you for the ask!

Riddle, Azul, Vil, Idia, Malleus x gn!reader — Can't Sleep

Riddle

Riddle understands what it's like to have restless nights, though for him it's mainly because he's worried about work and maintaining his position as a leader. He wants to help you but he doesn't know if his usually cold attitude to situations will help

He ends up doing what Trey taught him to do when he was younger; bringing a warm cup of tea. He knocks on your door, softly asking if he can come in. When he does, he sees you curled up, sitting with the blanket over your head and looking tiredly at the wall. "I brought you something warm, it's always helped me when I needed to fall asleep."

He'll sit with you and be a listening ear if you need it. He doesn't judge you for the nightmares, even if you may think it's silly. He'll keep a hand on your back

If you ask him to sleep with you because he brings you comfort, at first he may say no. This is just out of courtesy or fear that he may end up making you more awake. But he'll eventually slip into the bed with you and lie there

If he succeeds in helping you fall asleep, he'll kiss you on the forehead and quietly leave. If you don't, he'll figure out something else to keep your mind from drifting to nightmarish imaginations. Maybe he can help you memorize those dorm rules of his (no he's too nice to do that)

Azul

He's also someone with a lot of nightmares, mainly from his childhood. He's getting better with it, mainly by occupying himself with more work so he doesn't have to think about it. But when he finds out you're doing the same he won't take it

"Pearl you are going to bed, I won't watch you stress out and get tired!" he'll say as he stops writing in his book and gets up from his desk. The two of you might've slept together from time to time because you were staying over at his place to study until 4am but this time he tells you to use his bed and rest

If you need anything from him, let him know! He's really good at cooking (just doesn't tell anyone) so if you want some kind of snack he has mainly he can whip up. If you just need someone to talk to, he's also hear for that. He knows how important it is to have someone who listens so he takes that seriously

He tends to be a big cuddler, though at first he may not seem that way. If you want him to cuddle you so you don't have to think too much about your nightmares, he'll do that. He might squeeze you a bit too hard with his strong arms but it's only because he loves you too much

Similar to Riddle, if you fall asleep before he does, he'll go back to his own work while you rest. But you might convince him to also take a break, and why not

Vil

He doesn't get a lot of dreams in general, perhaps it's because he's always so tired or maybe he's just really lucky. However, he does know you need to sleep well to look well. Seeing your dark circles, your tired expression, your head lulling back and forth in class makes him worry

He might sound a bit cold when he first tells you that you need to sleep more, almost like he only cares about your outward appearance. But you know he's telling you about your dark circles because he wants you to sleep more and maybe he wants to do skincare with you haha

"Sleeping helps with your mental health too, and I can't see my beautiful y/n down. I'm here to help, I'll make sure no more nightmares come to keep you awake," Vil says while you two are lying on the bed with facemasks. You might laugh a bit because he's so serious, but it's true—he really wants the best for you

Will spend nights with you at your side. He listens to everything you have to say while brushing your hair, holding your hand, rubbing your back, etc. Similar to Azul he knows that it's important to have someone you can talk to and he wants you to know you'll always be safe with him

You might notice having less nightmares because he's been appearing in your dreams more haha. Either way, he will always be there for you to comfort you and make sure you are taking care of yourself

Idia

He has a lot of nightmares, if anything you two need to work together to help each other out. Perhaps this is why he treats your lack of sleep really seriously. He may not sleep that much himself, but he will not let you get less than 7 hours of sleep

"Y/n, I know we're watching this anime right now but we should sleep, you look tired," he may start out. You explain your situation and how the nightmares are really bad. "Then let me help you conquer them," it sounds a bit cheesy but it's really meaningful coming from Idia

The two of you might fall asleep listening to music together, think animal crossing music on the piano or Ghibli lofi haha. But he'll always keep close to you while you two are together. He keeps his hand in yours, often curling himself towards you too

Talk to him whenever you need. He takes loyalty really seriously and from his past he knows how important it is to have someone who will listen (similar to the others above). He might not know what to say at the moment but he will do everything he can to help you

The two of you both need more sleep, convince him to join you and say that he looks tired and he will definitely make that an excuse to cuddle with you

Malleus

He sleeps fine, nothing out of the ordinary but on occasions he will have nightmares. He knows bad dreams can be terrifying, and it hurts to see you go through it frequently to the point you can't sleep. Sure he could try using magic but that's not what he wants to do, he wants you to conquer those nightmares yourself and he wants to help you with that

He'll try his best by bringing you tea on certain nights, sitting and listening to you, or him reading a book to you. No matter what, he'll always be by your side, assuring you that you're safe and he's here with you. "There's nowhere else I would be, let me protect you," he might whisper one night while you are asleep.

He's a bit of a night owl so he has no problem hanging out with you. He also happens to catch signs of fatigue really easily, so before you even mention that you're having trouble falling asleep one week he'll bring it up and say if you want him to hang out with you.

It's probably his first time trying to comfort someone he truly cares about, especially a human at that. He might consult books and Lilia for advice, to which Lilia might tease him for being so cute.

Overall I feel like Malleus would be amazing at dropping everything to help you. He loves to hold you in his arms, to keep you close, and to listen to you. He never wants to see you sad or afraid, and because of that he will do everything he can to help you have sweet dreams

218 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

AITA for not investing enough time in my wife's hobbies?

For context my wife and I are both disabled but I am the sole source of income between us. We recently found out our bills this year are much more than we expected so I've been very stressed trying to balance my health and work enough to be able to cover our expenses.

In the meantime my wife has become obsessed with Warhammer 40k. It's an expensive hobby to get into but I have tried my best to be supportive and buy her models when I get the chance. She has plenty of models now and enjoys building and painting them and I'm happy that she has something to occupy her day while I'm at work.

The problem is that recently she really wants to play the actual game part. She built and painted me an army and has helped me learn the rules. We've played a few times but each time I'm realizing that I don't actually get any enjoyment out of the game. It's so many rules to keep track of and while it's only supposed to take an hour to finish a game, our games have never been below 4 hours. Usually they are much longer.

I hadn't said anything and did my best to just suck it up and enjoy it, but with my chronic pain and fatigue it's very difficult for me to keep my attention for that long.

This weekend however I kinda snapped. I had had a very bad day trying to balance money issues, but, since it was my day off, she had set up the game while I was making calls in the other room. I tried to play but by hour four I was depressed and zapped on energy. She asked me what was up and I was honest that I was tired, had a bad day, and wasn't very interested in playing.

She got very depressed and packed up the game and didn't really talk to me for the rest of the day. Now she just wanders around the house trying to find something to do but she only wants to play Warhammer 40k. She's too scared to try to find other people to play with because the Warhammer guys she's talked to before are... Not great folks.

Am I the asshole for not playing Warhammer with her? Do I need to be investing more interest in her new hobby?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

87 notes · View notes

megpricephotography · 5 months

Note

So I'm thinking about a dog in 2024 and I am absolutely in love with border collies.. I know thier energy is insane.. This is my question, do you walk everyday, of course you do, how far do you walk? What would I be in for? Do they bark often? I also enjoy black Labradors.. Your blog is quite amazing.. 🙏🐕

That’s wonderful you might be getting a dog next year! Whichever breed you decide on, I hope you find yourself a fantastic companion & enjoy many happy years of adventures together :) Thanks, I'm so glad you enjoy my blog!

I’ll answer your 2nd question 1st: barking. Yes!! Some are louder than others... but most border collies like the sound of their own voice. They'll likely be more vocal than a labrador!

Now... exercising. Border collies are energetic. They need to run regularly & are always eager for a walk! Like most breeds, BCs are happiest (& easiest to live with!) when they're able to combine using their brains, with getting physical excise.

Many pet dogs, even "high energy" breeds, are able to fulfil a lot of their need for mental/physical exercise by going on regular walks... Walks where the dog is most left to its own devices but has the opportunity to run & fully engage its senses, exploring & interacting with the environment. If the owner wants to get more involved & play with the dog too, then great! However, if the owner is tired after a stressful day, then they can mostly mentally switch-off & relax in nature, while their pet has fun & tires itself out!

Unfortunately (& I think it's part of why they have a rep for making hyper/crazy pets), border collies are often pretty terrible at exercising themselves on this sort of walk - where they have to occupy themselves independently!

BCs want owner participation!! They want YOU mentally switched-on & involved in their activities - exploring the wider world is only as interesting as you make it! If they aren't kept busy herding livestock for you, or doing sports like agility, then a BC needs you to come up with other forms of entertainment/exercise, which you can do together. It doesn't need to be complicated, or involve you doing lots of hard physical exertion - but keeping a pet BC well-exercised & contented will take some mental effort, on your part.

They'll often benefit far more from a slightly shorter outing, where your focus is on them & making a real effort to engage & interact - rather than a much longer walk, where you're present but disengaged & expecting the dog to exercise itself.

For some people, the prospect of a pet who demands lots of engagement & interaction, could be more work than an active dog who "just" needs regular long hikes! However, if you like the idea of having a HIGHLY interactive dog - who thrives on doing stuff with you, then BCs can make wonderful, engaging, fun companions.

This got way too long... below are examples of how I keep Flynn "busy" & help him burn off mental/physical energy outdoors! My health isn't very good - I can't go very far & never go fast but Flynn doesn't mind... as long as we're interacting.

All pics below were taken a couple of days ago, in 2 adjacent fields.

Left to occupy himself, Flynn could spend hours out in these wide-open spaces & he'd still be bouncy/bored later. Not because he's insanely energetic - no, the daft dog simply wouldn’t DO anything tiring! If I ignore Flynn, he accepts it & potters along the path... & that’s the problem! He's an athletic, intense dog & he just potters! He's happy but barely using up any energy!! If I want Flynn tired, I have to give him reasons to use his body & - more importantly - his mind!

I take the part of shepherd & sheep & get Flynn herding me across the fields. We play hide-&-seek in the woods. He does tricks & balances on things. I take photos as it's another chance to interact. We might play search games too - I make him wait, go hide a toy/treats, then send him out to find them.

A "game"(?) that's developed over time, is that Flynn loves to find & show me interesting stuff in the environment. Stuff he will not play with alone, but massively enjoys if I join in: piles of leaves, mole hills, tree stumps, good ground for digging! The more animated I am in reacting, the more enthused Flynn gets & the more he’ll exercise - racing way ahead to find the next fun thing & the next! He enjoys it if I show him stuff too!

Anyway, here he is in the 1st field, lying motionless but focused, as he waited for me to arrive & investigate the puddle he’d "discovered". It IS an excellent puddle.

Here he is, extremely excited at the prospect of supervising me stepping into the puddle & making a splash:

Flynn's holding a nasty soggy chunk of grass because this was such a thrilling moment, he felt he needed to have something to bite on, or he might be tempted to nip my boot!!

Here he is in the 2nd field, intent on stalking closer, because I’d crouched down & just me doing that is EXCITING:

I crouched to look for fossils. Didn’t spot any, so I grabbed random pebbles. Flynn finds it genuinely fascinating to watch me choose, pick up, examine & toss small rocks away… He'll eagerly "help" me do this, for as long as I'll let him. He darts after each stone, as I chuck it away, then quickly rush back to watch me choose another. Here he is, concentrating very hard indeed, on a vital Pebble Examination:

Despite not going far, Flynn was mentally (& physically) tired out by the time we got home! Clearly, he'd done important work: herding, hiding, puddle-finding & pebble-inspecting ;-) Once Flynn's exercised, he'll happily sleep for hours on end.

52 notes · View notes

topgunslut · 1 year

Text

rescued pt 2

a/n: im so sorry it took so long for part two!! also, thank you for 100 followers!! thank you for all the support i received on my last post, it really means the world to me <3

part 1

cw: struggling with mental health, crying, maybe military inaccuracies, angst angst angst, mint chocolate chip ice cream 😭, sorta sleep deprivation | let me know if i missed any!

!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

by pressing ‘keep reading’ you are voluntarily looking at the content below. you are responsible for what you consume.

two days. two whole days you laid in pennys guest bedroom, with no sense of productivity. you admit, you needed space but the nights that you would typically keep yourself company while your stress eased, felt too long. the bed felt empty.

it felt similar to the days when penny would babysit you when you were little, although this time around, it consisted of watching comfort movies and playing uno, rather than playing dress up and pretending that ponies could fly.

your face kept a red stain over your cheeks and a slight puffiness from all the crying that would keep you up through most of the night.

penny was always antsy when amelia was with her father and his wife for the week of his designated custody, so she was more than happy to occupy her mind with you. she just wished it was under different circumstances.

two and a half tissue boxes later, the end credits of 50 first dates swept over the tv screen. it wasn’t even an emotional movie, but the comfort movie which included a somewhat happy couple was enough to rethink watching it.

“i wish a cow walked into the road while we were driving to base,” you sighed, also wishing you lived in hawaii. penny gave you a sympathetic look and stood up. a headache, most likely from stress, poured into your head.

jake wanted to give you all the space that you needed, even though it was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. he’d try to occupy his mind with work or the gym but it was no use. he found you in everything.

sure, this wasn’t a breakup, but it easily could have turned into a mutual irish goodbye if a fire hydrant on the main street hadn’t bursted, causing jake to take an alternative route home.

traffic was horrible and jake had felt like he was sitting at the red light for hours, even though it was probably less than two minutes. taking in his surroundings he noticed the icecream shop you two went on many late night ventures.

a peace offering, he thought. the lack of sleep and desperate need to hold you caused him to merge into the far left lane in order to turn into the plaza. he disregarded the drivers who he cut off.

out of habit, he looked over at the passenger seat to catch a glimpse of you, but you weren’t there. you were snuggled in the blankets that provided little comfort in pennys guest bedroom.

jake ordered your a pint of favorite icecream, a mint chocolate chip in a cup for him, and vanilla with chocolate chips for penny. the usual cashier who was familiar with your relationship took a hint and decided to not ask any questions.

in uniform and a pint of icecream on his hip, carrying it like it was a child, he lightly knocked on the door. while driving to pennys, he had eaten not only his portion of icecream but also pennys out of stress, which he figured he wouldn’t mention.

two minutes later, a tired looking penny opened the door. “i knew you would come at some point, but not midnight,” she rubbed her bare eyes.

“i know, i just -” he started.

“second bedroom on the left. i’ll take that.” her psycic thoughts came in clutch. she took the pint of icecream, her tired arm dropping a little further than the other when she held the heavy container. jakes heart raced.

he checked his watch, only for it to say 8:45, not 12:00am. he knew that early nights meant bad days.

“oh, jake” penny said, catching his attention. “i’ll be on the balcony,”

“thanks,” he said, a little confused as to why penny would be telling him that information. maybe she thought that she would be needed as a mediator?

disregarding the thought, he tapped on the door and cleared, wanting to give you a little notice that he was here.

“jake?” you rubbed your eyes, pretending that he had woken you from a deep sleep when in reality you were staring at the ceiling. your horrible acting was put aside when you realized he wasn’t even in the room yet.

a faint sound of the doornob twisting let you know that he was approaching. he tapped the lightswitch on the wall and the room lit up. your eyes burned at the sudden bright light.

you sat up against the headboard. jake winced at your tear stained face. you adjusted to his presence, taking in his appearance. he kept his clean-shaven face but his hair did seem disheveled, like he’d been running his hands through it. you craved to run your fingers through it.

“honey, i-“ jake was once again cut off by you crawling over to him hurriedly and pressing your lips to his. he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer.

your lips detached from his but you kept a tight grip around him. you looked up at him, words caught in your throat.

“it’s probably a bad idea to tell you that, that wasn’t our football,” he spit out.

you winced in embarrassment. “lay down with me, please,” you had nothing else to say.

and so he did. after two days, you slept contently, tangled in eachother - and he did too. <3

taglist & request are open

taglist: @rosiahills22 @caitsymichelle13 @peakascum @potato-girl99981 @strokesofstokes @alonero05 @rhikhikingston @boringusername3 @sarahjoestewy-blog @awesomebooklover17 @lumpypoll @shanimallina87 @cornishkat @whitewolfsbitch @nerdygirl1234 @drakelover78 @shawnsblue @pono-pura-vida @abeaverhausen @hargroveandco @rogersbarnesxx @lolcaca @atarmychick007 @can-this-be-a-fanfic

133 notes · View notes

daydreamerfox · 11 months

Text

Hi! I have a few things I wanna say! It's all under the cut so it won't occupy too much space, also, please enjoy this cute fanart of Layla, my child who I relate to way more than I wish I did

Maybe you’ve noticed that I've been kinda quiet the past few weeks… or months… Well, there’s a reason for that. At first I wasn't motivated at all to keep working with art, I mean, let's be real here, it's not really the easiest thing to work with... and we all know that. That fact plus not having my own computer to work whenever I want can lead to a lot of frustration. Feeling like drawing, but not being able to because of many reasons outside of my control can make my motivation vanish really quickly. I’m sure a lot of you can vouch for me on that, artist or not.

The thing is: I have been trying to keep going besides that, because "it's just a phase, things will get better, I just need to push past it" to a point where it was just bad for me in general and completely unhealthy.

I was avoiding drawing as much as I could and, when I did draw, I wasn't as productive as I wanted to be, because I kept getting distracted with everything else, procrastinating it as much as I could without realizing it, which would just lead to more and more frustration with myself.

I felt like I was falling behind, I wasn’t being able to post as frequently as I wanted to, so I thought maybe finishing Illustrations quickly was the way to go, but that would lead to me wanting to draw whatever and even then not being happy with the results. When I was happy with it it just didn’t get the attention I was expecting it to get, which just made me frustrated again and made me try to push myself even more, even though I didn’t have the tools I needed to finish any art piece on the time I decided to do it or I’d just pull all nighters just to get something done.

Whenever I thought of strategies of how to fix my problem I just felt lost. I knew where I wanted to get, what I wanted for myself, but I didn’t know what I should do to get there, I couldn’t get to a conclusion about it no matter what I tried. It just felt like I was doing a lot of work, but with no direction and it just made me be stuck at the same place, which would just tire and stress me instead of giving me any gratification

It got to a point where I genuinely thought about giving up working with art for good. If it was so bad for me, why would I keep trying, right? Maybe I should just try to find something I could work with instead, something that wouldn’t stress me so much, but I have to admit that just thinking about that possibility made me so anxious! Imagine myself not creating something as a career, not working on getting my comic done, not making my ocs be known, not creating art for games, it all just filled me with anxiety.

I wasn’t sure what to do anymore. Continue working in the way I was working was just tiring me, stressing me and just being terrible for me in so many different ways, but at the same time I know I need to do it for my mental health. I need to vent out, I need to express myself and the easiest way for me is through my art!

All I could think of the entire time was that I wanted my mom to still be here and help me find out what I should do!

It was a terrible weekend where I was thinking about it nonstop and wondering what to do and what path I should take. I was trying to organize my bedroom to at least try to keep my head occupied with something else for a moment, and then I found an old notebook where my mom wrote something for me and along with many things she wrote:

“Never give up on your dreams. Know that sometimes they don’t come true in the time we want because there’s always the right time for it to happen”

It might not seem much for you but this sentense alone kind of made everything click for me. It was just the one thing I needed, the advice from my mother I was looking for.

I think it’s important to say that I didn’t feel better right away, but at least I knew I couldn’t give up like I was thinking about doing. When my friends asked me what would be my decision, I still wasn’t sure, but I knew I couldn’t and I wouldn’t give up, so I wanted to try at least one last time…

Honestly I wanted to start working on it right away but I caught a cold right after I had that decision. I guess that was something else I needed: Time for me to plan out what I would do, rest, allow my body and brain to breath for a moment and not feel bad about it, just respect myself and not worry about being late for something I wasn’t late for. I shouldn't strain my body and I'm trying to understand that still. It’s not easy.

While I didn’t feel well enough to work I took a few classes on how to do what I’m planning to work on and, while that didn’t answer all my questions, at least that helped me a lot on knowing what path I should take to get to my goal. I know it won’t be easy, I know it won’t be quick, but knowing what I need to do to get there is enough for me not to be as anxious about running in circles trying to get somewhere. Even if sometimes I still get scared thinking about that possibility.

Ever since then I’ve been trying to organize myself, I’m documenting it, making a few vlogs (It’s in portuguese, but I can subtitle it for the people who can’t speak portuguese, if you guys want it). I’m planning on talking about what’s working for me and what isn’t, what are my thoughts about this process and what I wanna keep doing or not. Maybe some of it might help someone who’s struggling like I was, and if it does, then I’ll already be happy.

Making videos like that is something new for me, so it might take a bit long for now, but I want to make something nice for everyone. I’ll also write down my thoughts about it, post it here and on my other social media (I’ll try to make something kinda regular, but I’m still thinking about how often I’ll do it.) I know not everyone enjoy watching videos and sometimes can focus better on reading things and either way that’s a way for myself to organize my thoughts. I’ll write it down anyway, the difference is that I’ll post it and hopefully help someone.

I might add a few WIPs here and there, but it’ll mostly be focused on my organization and my journey to become the artist I wanna be.

I’ve also found a notion template that is actually working for me and I’m able to organize all the posts for different platforms I was so desperately trying to make (it's easier to keep track of everything if they’re in just one plae and it’s easier to reschedule things if they’re digital)

It’ll be a long way, I know that, but I’m glad I haven’t given up yet and you guys are more than welcome to join me, if you want to! I'll love to share this with you and know what's working and what isn't working for you guys! We can always share tips and tricks with each other!

I hope to be able to show up here more often and that you guys can have fun and maybe feel motivated to follow your dreams or try to reach your goals too. Maybe I’m dreaming a bit too high, but I just need to be patient and keep working for it, trying to make things work and most importantly, not giving up!

On a higher note: my sister helped me fix a laptop so I can work on it most of the time and a friend of mine is helping me build an actually good computer for myself, though I don’t know how long the latter will take, it’s already good news… at least in my opinion.

Here's my youtube channel for those who want to check on the vlogs (though I'll still let you guys know when a new video's out)

And if you prefer any other social medias:

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/daydreamerfox.art/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/daydreamerfox Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/daydreamer_fox

#Genshin impact #Layla #Fanart #brazilian artists #brart #Sumeru #daydreamerfox #🦊 The Artist Rambles #(I should probably make one of those pretty and aesthetically pleasing deviders just so I'll be happy looking at written posts on my blog)#art.txt

11 notes · View notes

takaraphoenix · 1 year

Text

As fucked up as the American health system is, the one thing I am envious about is that they at least get sleeping pills. They can’t sleep. Doctor gives them a prescription for sleeping pills. They get to fucking sleep.

Meanwhile the most a German doctor musters is “have you tried setting an alarm clock in the morning to get up at the same time every day? it may take months but your sleep schedule will set itself”.

Bitch, I was awake for 40 hours the other day and I still didn’t get tired.

My sleep schedule isn’t the problem here. I mean. It also is. Because some days, I go to bed at 8AM, other days, I go to bed at 7PM and then wake up at 4AM, and sometimes I just don’t go to bed at all. Did a thing where I only slept every second night for a week because I figured surely, if I don’t sleep at all, the tired must kick in early the following evening and that way I might get my sleep schedule on.

How do you recommend me I just set my alarm clock to 8AM every day when I am usually not even asleep yet at that time and when I am telling you that I did the whole not-sleeping-at-all thing too.

It just goes beyond my comprehension, quite frankly, that humans have created medicine that helps people sleep, but German doctor are just like no, go try drinking a warm drink before going to bed and not engaging in things with a screen instead.

I just want to be able to sleep. Why is that asking too much. I go to bed at midnight, I still lay awake at 10AM, not having slept a lick.

And then my father tries being helpful and asks why I can’t sleep. Surely something serious must trouble me to keep me awake. I mean, sure, if I stay awake long enough my mind will rotate back to bad shit too, but it’s not like the bad shit is the only thing keeping me awake. I just can’t turn off my brain.

It’ll spin fanfiction, replay the day, re-evaluate that movie I watched last week, write a lengthy review about the show I finished that day, visualize whatever project I’ve been working on during the day to continue that, write a tumblr post about the most random and non-pressing matter in my head. Not all of these are current, pressing issues that keep me awake.

My mind will just find something to occupy itself with if I’m laying alone in the dark for too long. If it has to, it’ll reach far, far back and get annoyed at the shit ending of a show I watched five years ago, or get hung-up on details of a movie I watched a month ago, or start planning Christmas in January or some shit.

I just want to sleep. What’s not clicking about that.

#Sleeping #Insomnia #Health Issues #I don't know what to tag this #Doctors Suck #like. seriously. you can tell a doctor ALL OF THAT #and they really will be like 'set an alarm clock in the morning'#bitch why do you think that will work #I'll just. not sleep at all then #I'VE DONE THAT ALREADY FUCK YOU #y'all can prescribe opiods no problem #and someone wants to JUST FUCKING SLEEP #and we're back to herbal tea recommendations and shit like we're in the middle ages #what's wrong with this system fr #this post was brought to you by: not having slept. again #Personal

18 notes · View notes

pricescigar · 2 years

Text

The Werewolf

(Pt. 4)

It took a week for Woods to recover successfully, thanks to Elvira remaining by his side 24/7. She helped him clean his bandages, bathe him and prepare food for him to keep his energy up. She also made sure that Perseus' agents wouldn't step foot back near the Castle again, in general Elvira was multitasking to ensure Woods would rest well enough, she didn't want him to move around so much. Even if Elvira was exhausted herself, she wanted Woods to recover properly and not do anything himself. She slept when he did sometimes, a couple of hours here and there… Patrol around the Castle, just keeping her mind and body occupied really.

Elvira had been worrying sick about his health for most of it, she could barely sleep half of the time due to her being so worried for Woods' health. But gradually over time, seeing that he was improving day by day she felt a little better about it. She cared a lot for him, even if he was a Werewolf Elvira didn't care. These strange feelings… She deeply cared, more than she'd like to admit herself. Perhaps even falling in love with him. However she'd do anything not to tell him, and Elvira knew he wouldn't feel the same as well.

Woods sadly had no choice but to spend most of his time resting since he was so exhausted, all he could think about was him sleeping constantly. He slowly woke up and he groaned softly, holding his head. "Fuck… My head…" He mumbled little. God, how long was he asleep for?

Elvira made some lunch for him and took it up to his bedroom, she opened the door seeing he was finally awake. Leaving the tray of food aside, she went over to Woods smiling softly. "Hallo Woods… How are you feeling?" She asked him softly, going over to him and checking his temperature too. Luckily his temperature was normal, and he was no longer having a fever.

"Tired as hell Elvira, my whole body still hurts like hell… I'm tired of laying down as well, you mind helping me up please? It would feel good to sit up…" Woods looked up at her, he hated feeling this weak and useless. He even felt embarrassed because of it, yet he saw it didn't bother Elvira in the slightest.

"Of course, here just a second now..." Elvira nodded, she wrapped her arms around him. She helped him sit up more, putting the pillows behind him upright so his back wouldn't hurt. "There you go, I also made you some food too. Rabbit stew again… But it's the last bit of the leftovers." She smiled.

"Thanks Elvira, I feel a little better…" Woods leant against the board, glancing at her slightly as she brought the tray over to him. He owes her big time now, the way she helped him, protecting him from Perseus agents a week ago … If anything, Elvira could've killed him too, or left him to die if she wanted to but she didn't. The tray was placed on his lap and began to eat the stew, damn he'd never get over her cooking.

When Woods finished eating Elvira cleaned up from everything, and also ran a bath for him leaving some fresh clothes aside too. Admittingly he was worried seeing her walk around his Castle, working here and there, everywhere almost. He had his bath and got changed into fresh clothing, after eating and getting changed he felt a lot better. Upon arriving back to his bedroom he saw Elvira making his bed for him.

"Hey, you don't have to do that for me, you know? I appreciate all that you've done for me but… I don't want you getting yourself sick by taking care of me and constantly rushing around too…" Woods looked at Elvira worryingly, over the last past two weeks his feelings for her grew. Growing into something he hadn't felt in a long time… The last thing he wanted to happen to her was to get sick or hurt. Then, he'd never forgive himself for it.

Elvira neatened his pillows, turning to see Woods who had returned, smiling at him softly before chuckling a little. "After all Woods, you're still recovering, don't forget. I want to make things easier for you." She smiled softly. "Now, did you enjoy your bath?"

"Uh, yeah I did… Thank you for that." Woods smiled at her, he then extended his hand over to her pulling her into a hug gently. He just needed to, what other way can he thank her? He just didn't know, his mind was clouded. "Thank you… For everything Elvira, saving me from them and keeping me alive. I owe you a lot, he'll even my life." He said before eventually pulling away.

Elvira was surprised by the hug, but she smiled and wrapped her arms around him hugging Woods back. "...You don't need to thank me, you know? You were the one who saved me first… As I said to you before, you could've left me to die but you didn't. You saved me, and now I did too." She reminded him, pulling away from the hug as well.

"You know, I really thought I was going to die back there… I can't remember the last time I've been so scared for my life like that, been a while really..." Woods admitted to her and then sighed softly, shaking his head a little. "Fuck I hate being this weak, I'm sorry…"

"You're not weak Frank, you still have emotions, just like everyone else and it's perfectly normal to feel like that." Elvira reassured him and placed her hand upon his cheek softly, caressing it gently..

"Yeah you're right… I'm sorry… I just wanted you to be safe that's all, but you showed those fuckers who's boss and scared them away. I kind of find that badass." Woods then laughed softly to lighten up the mood.

Elvira laughed softly and nodded in agreement, even at the time she too was also fighting for her life and also had even forgotten that she was scared as well. "Ah well you know, stuff like that I'm used to it to be honest."

"Yeah I can imagine…" Woods nodded and smiled weakly at her. "Hey, why don't you take a break? Why don't we walk in the forest a little, you probably need to walk priestly after being cooped up here for a week.

"Sure why not, I would love that let's go!" Elvira nodded in agreement, letting Woods lead the way. Before they left she grabbed her coat, putting it on over her shoulders and leaving the Castle with him.

Meanwhile. . .

Up in the mountains miles away from the Castle laid Perseus safehouse, it remained there for a good decades now. How they liked it, there was a time where the Wolff family was on their tail constantly, such as a time until most of them were killed off to a point they could finally remain in one place. Last but not least… One family member remains alive and that was Elvira, and so far it was proven to be more difficult to kill her. .

Stitch since then had recovered from his injuries, thanks to the Serum Perseus had given him and resting a lot. Elvira did a number on him with the silver bullets she shot into his body. Hell, it was almost a miracle that he had actually survived it at all. He was finally happy to be up and about moving around again. Rather than laying in bed and doing nothing.

"It's been a week since the events, and Wolff has constantly been on her guard. We need a good time to finally capture her if we want revenge…" Perseus explained to his agents, he had a map and the location where Woods Castle was. Thanks to Jackal and Naga going there while Stitch was injured.

"I see her go hunting regularly, she kills the animals and goes back to prepare food. Maybe I can capture her when she's out and about hunting." Stitch suggested to Perseus, glancing at him as he crossed his arms.

"Good idea, leave it for another couple of days. Make it feel like we're gone for good, when you feel ready take her down and bring her back here." Perseus got the knife and marked it down at the location of Woods' Castle. "Wolff will pay for what she's done to you, and you'll make sure of it." Perseus added.

A couple of days had passed and still even now Stitch was waiting for a good time to strike, he noted that Elvira always comes into the forest at a specific time to hunt. Spending around an hour and a half in the forest, before she would finally return back to the Castle for the rest of the day. Since he waited for so long… Now was the time, when he would finally get his revenge on Elvira Wolff.

"Frank? I'm going out to hunt now, hopefully I can find something for us to eat. The winter blizzard was awful last night, but there should be some animals out now." Elvira explained.

"Cool, be careful alright? I'll be here if anything goes wrong or if I sense danger on the first. It's my domain." Woods replied before pulling her into a gentle hug, which she gladly returned the hug back. Wrapping her arms around him.

"I'll be ok I promise! If I'm lucky I'll even bring a deer." Elvira hugged him one last time, and quickly kissed his forehead before she left the Castle.

As Elvira haunted she saw trials of a Rabbit running around, another one? Well food was food at the end of the day … And not another animal in sight it seemed, everything felt so… Desolate and quiet. Regardless of that she continued the hunt, following the trail. Elvira got her crossbow ready only to see that the poor rabbit had been devoured.

"Damnit…" Elvira muttered softly putting her crossbow down, she sighed softly looking around the forest wondering where to start off again. The forest looked perfectly calm now ever since the storm, surely there must be more animals roaming around. Right?

Stitch meanwhile was watching her from on top of the tree, he kept himself out of sight and watched her closely. He watched Elvira walk away from the Rabbit corpse, his eyes watched her. When the time was right he dropped down from the tree, he suddenly tackled her and used the chance to knock her out.

Woods did a couple of things around the Castle while Elvira hunted for food, he didn't want to worry too much about Elvira's safety. He knew well enough that she would care for herself, however… Something in his gut was telling him otherwise, so he repaired a few things in his Castle. Even planting some flowers to make the garden look more presentable. When Woods took a small break to look at the time, he noticed Elvira didn't return.

'Strange … She's usually back by now? Maybe she's getting some extra food too? Yeah, getting more food.' Woods didn't want to dwell on it too much, he tried to brush it off. Maybe five more minutes? He eagerly waited for her return. Thus after those five minutes quickly passed… He didn't sense her.

"Fuck…" Woods muttered to himself, he left the Castle and went into the forest. He roamed around and picked up on a peculiar scent. Elvira? He rushed over to where he could smell her, only to come across her scarf being left on the ground.

He grabbed the scarf from the ground, he brushed off the bits of snow that was on it. Holding her scarf, he completely lost her scent. Impossible, what happened to her? She wouldn't have left him like that would she? Woods knew Elvira all too well, but then he began to think. He could only think of one person who would be responsible for this… Vikhor Kuzmin.

#call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #frank woods #oc #ocs #elvira wolff #frankvira #the werewolf

10 notes · View notes

white-pearls · 1 year

Text

Dopamine 18+

Sakuatsu +Bokuaka

Master list || Chapter 11 || Minors do NOT interact

CHAPTER 12

Nobody is perfect everyone has their flaws. What happens when Atsumu who has one of the biggest rumors at school revolving around him and Sakusa who has a secret he can’t tell anyone. Akaashi a boy who cares so much about his image but has someone trying to dig up a dirty secret about him falls in love with a boy who seems so far of reach.

TW: drugs, underage drinking, needles, blood, fighting, language, violence, rape?, mentions of being molested, mentions of abuse, ect.

Maybe hiding in the boy's bathroom during lunch wasn't the best idea. Not only because it smelled but the fact that he was hungry too.

Atsumu was still going to the nurse's office every day, and Suna was hitting it off with another girl leaving him alone. He didn't hate his friends for doing that; he understood they had a life, but he wished he was hiding in this nasty stall with a friend. He would listen to people walk in and out. To either use the restroom or to slap box.

He felt like a big idiot hiding in here from his new boyfriend. It could be a mistake agreeing to date a popular football player. Akaashi has never been in a relationship. What made him think this was going to be easy?

Every time he would look at Bokuto his heart would be pounding so hard that he could hear it. His hands would begin to sweat, and his face would turn a different color. He was just a huge mess. It was so bad that even Suna got secondhand embarrassment by seeing his attempt to talk to Bokuto this morning. Suna ended up putting his hand on his shoulder and said, "how about you try another time again, without me nearby because that hurt to watch." He hasn't been able to sleep these past nights nor even concentrate on his work. Everything has been piling up on him, not even a decent meal has come his way. He was so done for now.

He hoped Bokuto wasn't hurt by his idiotic actions. He wished he could just call it off; he deserved better than whatever this was. It wasn't even worth calling it a relationship. This was the worst thing to happen in his life other than meeting his friends. Akaashi groaned as his stomach grumbled, begging to be fed. Enough was enough, and he needed to focus on his health. He opened up his bag to see if he had a snack in his bag; though he wasn't sure he would be able to eat in the school's bathroom, it just felt really wrong. He should have hidden in an empty classroom or, better yet, stayed home. Who would even care if he didn't show up? He had few friends to begin with.

All of this overthinking was making his head pound. He needed some sort of distraction or something to cheer him up; some calculous homework could do the trick.

Taking out his notebook and math book, he started doing work while crouching. His shaking hand nervously wrote down numbers. Maybe all of this was hopeless. Before he could spiral into an overthinking phase, he heard a knock on the door.

"It's occupied," Akaashi says, running his hands through his hair. The third person to come kicking during lunchtime. Did these kids have bowel problems, or did they come in to smoke? Whatever it was, he was getting tired of it. Looking down, he could see the feet of the person standing there. Then another knock was heard.

"Hey man, it's occupied," Akaashi said, clearly getting irritated. What was this dude's deal? Did he not understand English or something? Thinking about it more, maybe they were deaf or didn't understand the language. Akaashi would hate to look like a huge prick. Again the door knocked but more urgently.

"I'm coming no need to keep on going." Akaashi said standing. Grabbing the plastic lock, he slid it to the left, pushing open the door, looking up he was met with a very familiar face. Bright golden eyes and two toned hair. "I finally found you." He said.

Akaashi's legs moved back slowly, wishing he hadn't opened the door. He backed up to the toilet, making him lose his balance. Quickly Bokuto grabbed Akaashi's arm pulling him back onto his feet.

He was making an utter fool of himself in front of him again.

"Why are you here Akaashi? Are you hiding because of me?" He said, grabbing both of his wrists so he wouldn't run. His face turned into a concerted look.

"Of course not! I'm just...I don't know." He looked away, avoiding his gaze.

Bokuto's hand shifted from Akaashi's wrist to his warm palms.

"look, lets talk about this in a better place, okay? I want to know what you're feeling, what you're thinking, I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want," he said as he reached onto the floor and threw Akashi's bag onto his back. He was absolutely right, they couldn't keep just playing a game of cat and mouse forever. They weren't middle schoolers to be doing this anymore. Giving in he followed Bokuto into the halls though something felt off. When walking down the busy school halls, he would notice people looking at him weirdly. Was it the sight of Bokuto holding his hand? Their look seemed awfully too familiar to the one Atsumu had been receiving. They ended up going to the back of the school and out to the parking lot. Akaashi hopped onto the passenger seat, and Bokuto got into the driver. They sat there In silence, not knowing how to start the conversation. What was he going to say? That they should break up? That he was such an awful person?

"You know if you just want to break things off, you can, right?" Bokuto said, looking out of the window and avoiding his eyes for a bit. Scared on what his answer might be.

Akaashi didn't know what to feel about the situation. He and Bokuto were polar opposites, they didn't share anything in common. How was an introvert like him supposed to be in a relationship in the first place? He should have asked those idiots who he calls his friends for some sort of advice before going into something like this. Suna would know about this kind of stuff he's been with god know how many.

"Or, like I said, we can take things slow. You have yet to actually be with me. You've been hiding this whole time. Why not give it a chance?" Bokuto turned to look at him placing his arms on the steering wheel as he rested his head on it.

Try it.

He guessed that's the most he could do before assessing the situation. "You know what, Bokuto? your right about that." Akaashi spoke up. "And I'm sorry for being like this...I'm just new to the game." Akaashi slouched into the seat, trying to gather his thoughts.

He heard as Bokuto let out a slight chuckle. His face had a look of ease and happiness to it. Maybe he was laughing at the fact that he has a very clueless partner now.

"I'm glad you decided to give this a second chance. Don't be afraid to tell me anything, okay?" He said.

"Let's head back inside, okay? I can't miss economics, or else I won't be able to play the game on Friday. That you'll be going to, right?" Bokuto said with a mixture or hopeful and despaired looks on his face. "Also, I won't do anything till your ready okay?" The football player reassured him.

Akaashi gave him a nod of understanding and got out of the car. "Maybe I will show up," he said as they walked back inside together; they both headed to the senior hall. Luckily this was the last class for today, and he could go home and scream into his pillow. The halls were now empty meaning he was late to class or maybe everyone didn't want to go to there last class and straight up left the school. Usually, he would be panicking just being a few minutes late, but oddly he felt fine. Waving goodbye to Bokuto he walked into class to be met with the teacher. He was a tall slender man with glasses that always seemed to wear a flannel like dress shirt.

"Sorry for being la-"

"Are you okay? Do you need to head home?" He interrupts him.

Akaashi raised his brow in confusion, he watched as his teacher placed his hand on Akaashi's shoulder as if he wanted him to leave. "I feel fine...well, just a bit tired, so I think I'm going to sit down," Akaashi said, walking away and taking a seat. Sitting down in his usual spot, he began taking out his necessities. For some reason, his teacher had this concerned look on his face. Did he worry him that much that he was late? Though that would be an odd reason to act like that. Resting his back on the chair, he felt another hand grab onto his shoulder, making him jump.

"About time you showed up love bird." A familiar voice spoke. Looking behind him he saw Suna with his hood up and food sprawled on the desk as if he were in the comfort of his home. This was a sight he definitely thought he wouldn't see this school year.

"This is new, why are you here?" Akaashi asks, squinting at him.

"What are you talking about? This is my class?" He said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, but you never show up, are you going to tell me why you decided to come today? Don't tell me you're hiding from those guys again." Akaashi said, getting ready to scold him for not only him putting both of them in danger but for putting the school in danger.

"Because of you idiot, I came to check on you. I know it must feel hard right now, but if Atsumu can do it so can you! Look I even gave you those pills to help ease you down." Suna whispers into Akaashi's ear.

Another person asked if he was alright? What the hell was going on? Turning to look at the class, he noticed many eyes on him. Some being not so nice looks. Was everyone on this sick joke that he didn't know about it?

"What's going on? What do you mean by that?"

Suna looked at him wide eye as he settled back into his seat. "Oh god, you don't know yet, do you." He said while looking to the sides as if something terrible was about to happen. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

Akaashi didn't receive an answer to his question; actually, Suna only talked for part of the Class Period. He looked on edge Until the end of class when he shoved his hoodie into Akaashi's arms. He was acting very weird, usually you would see him sleeping or slacking or not wanting to be part of anything. Now he looked more alert and fidgety. Akaashi looked down at it, confused of what exactly was going on. He wanted him to wear his over size hoodie? Was he trying to make a girl he didn't like believe that he was gay again? Because if so, he was definitely not going to be part of that again.

"Put it on now, we have to go before things get worst," Suna said, helping his friend slip it on quickly. Before Akaashi could protest about anything, Suna grabbed his arm and dragged him out onto the halls. Why was he hiding? Why were they in a rush to get out of school? Should he have told Bokuto about leaving? What if he looks for him? He promised to stop hiding from him. Stopping his movement, he makes Suna look back at him.

"Why did you stop walking? If it's something you forgot, don't worry about it just get in my car and I'll get it." Suna said, tugging his arm once again.

"No it's not that, I'm going to look for Bokuto and say goodbye," Akaashi said, turning around. He was going to ensure he didn't mess this up again.

He could hear Suna mumble a few words before letting out a heavy sigh. "You'll thank me later..." he said, making Akaashi turn around immediately.

Something about those words didn't sound too pleasant. The second he looked back he could see Suna's fist swinging toward him. With a quick duck, he dodges it. For a second, they both stood there shocked, not being able to believe that he actually was able to avoid it. He didn't know why his friend was trying to knock him out. Was he trying to kill him?! What he did know was that he had to start running so he did. Running past people who gave his strange looks, Past teachers who ignored him. Going up the stairs, he panted heavily the last time he ran like that when he was being chased by a group of people not too long ago. Luckily people who do drugs aren't that good with their stamina.

Making it to the upper gym area, he stopped to catch his breath. He had to he here somewhere he has practice, after all. Taking a seat on the floor, he began to rest. Soon he heard a group of girls laughing, making him look up and saw him. Bokuto walking down the hall with a group of girls. The same group that would tend to follow him everywhere he went. At that point, you could call them fan girls that would die just to date him. From the looks of it he must of not said anything yet about dating. If he did he wouldn't have any girls of him then again nobody respected any boundaries here. Maybe it was a good thing they didn't know. From what he knew the girls in this school would go to extrema lengths to ruin people's relationships. What if some girl envied him and decided to do something horrible to him .

"Attention bulldogs! I have an important announcement to make to the whole school!" A high pitched female voice spoke over the intercom

"It has come to my attention that a student may be a potential future killer in the school. Someone who may be causing harm already, actually, his name is Akaashi Kenji."

Akaashi stopped walking towards Bokuto and slowly turned around to look at the intercom. What the hell is going on?

"He is the son of the murderer who killed twelve-year-old Kenma Kozume a few years ago. He was murdered over... over being unable to pay back the money he borrowed for his mother, who was in the hospital. His father was a disgusting loan shark!" She said with a crying voice. "We lost a young Angel t-to a monster! I know this is something that you may not all agree with but I'm sure you've heard the this idiom before like father, like son." She said before the click of her hanging up the intercom rang through the hall.

Was this it? Was this what Suna was trying to save him from? From hearing his dad's bullshit get exposed to the whole school. Everything he's done so far in life was his attempt to disassociate from his father. All his hard work had simply gone into the trash. Turning back around, he saw Bokuto looking straight at him, mouth slightly open like if he had something to say. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know because he knew it would hurt.

Pulling his hood up even more, he decided to just walk away.

___________________________

Yea, maybe drugs did suck after all because he couldn't even catch up to Akaashi after he ran from him. He didn't feel as youthful as he did a few years ago. As he searched the halls, he could hear the announcement being made making his heart sink. He was too late, he failed, he failed to keep Akaashi from hearing it. Not only was that the worst way to learn about the drama, but he was also in school. Kuroo is somewhere, too, probably searching for Akaashi.

Kenma was known in elementary school for being best friends with Kurro. They would stick to each other like gum. Until he died, of course, after that Kuroo had to transfer school because he could handle going to school and being bombarded with questions about his death. It was too much for a kid to handle. There was a rumor going around that maybe he had something to do with it because when he came back for high school, he acted as if he didn't know such person. For years that's what everyone believed but now, cats out of the bag. Maybe he wanted to leave the past behind for his sake.

Searching desperately, he looked for a boy who may seem to be having a mental breakdown. Where would he go if he were Akaashi. He had looked in all the empty classrooms and even the janitor's closet. He had come to the conclusion that maybe he had probably ran away at this point. Who wouldn't? He probably feels like there's a man hunt out for him now. Resting his body on the wall, he pulled out his phone to see that he still hadn't gotten any messages. Not even Atsumu had bothered to check in on them. Then again, he probably had his own problems going on. From what he's noticed, his allegations died down but maybe the fact that he hasn't been seen plays a role in that.

Now, where could of he have gone? If he was him, he would of gone to the most secluded hall. That be the library due to the fact that nobody in the school would even make the fort to go there. Making his way to the library, he could hear people whispering to each other about the announcement.

The majority of them would just say, "who's that?" Which was a good thing because that meant that not many people would care to even spread it.

Making a sharp left turn, he was met with someone who wore a black hoodie and was staring out a window. He seemed broken enough to stare into space. Approaching, he hesitantly rested his head on the other back not wanting to push him to look at him. He felt guilty for not being able to help the situation more. He froze as his body stiffened in surprise.

"I'm sorry I couldn't of protected you. I should of told you sooner but I didn't want you to freak out about it. I didn't want to see you go nuts like Atsumu did in public so I wanted to bring you to my house so we could talk about it." Suna said

"I wanted to be a good friend and help you but failed. Just like I fail in everything I do in life."

He felt as the other boy turned around but brought his head to rest on his shoulder. He smelled sorta lovely but he couldn't quite catch the specific sent. Though as weird as it sounds, it wasn't a smell that he recognized

"I could of done better Akaashi. I know you May think of me as a self-centered person but that's different for the people I love. Your not just a friend your like family and I know you feel icky hearing all of this from me. What I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry for failing as a friend." Suna said, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He could feel how the other boy wrapped his around his head.

"I may not be who you're looking but I don't think you should be sorry. You tried your best and there's nothing you could have done. He was bound to hear it at some point." The soft voice said. Quickly looking up, he noticed that it was true. This wasn't Akaashi but a boy with white hair and black ends.

"Shit," he said as he let go of him. "Sorry man, I didn't notice, it's just that you have the same build as him and wore the same thing as him." Suna said, looking away not being able to look at him because he completely let go in front of him.

"Wait I actually haven't seen you around are you new here?" Suna asks, he would of seen someone as good-looking at this school a long time ago if he wasn't new.

"Yes I am I come from the outskirts but my family decided to move here for my education." He said with a smile.

Something about him ticked Suna off. He didn't know what, though. Could it be because his voice was so calming? Or maybe because he was good-looking? It could be that he felt threatened by his good looks. Or perhaps because he could feel his heart fluttering even though he swore he was straight. This felt incredibly wrong but so right as the same time. The longer he looked at his brown eyes the more he wanted to keep talking to him.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, take care." Suna waved as he quickly rushed to leave the scene. What did he get himself into? Was meeting that guy a mistake?

What just happened? Why was he questioning what gender he was into now? He's supposed to be the straight one in the friend group. Bisexual, gay, straight, that was the order of their friend group. He was a straight, delinquent drug dealer. A drug dealer who was also known as a chick magnet. He ran into the nearest bathroom, hoping nobody was in there. To his luck, it was empty. Leaning on the sink, he looked at himself in the eyes. He needed to pull himself together. Splashing water into his face, he gasped as the cold water seemed to awaken him more. Maybe Akaashi would have some advice for him on a situation like this...

That's right he was supposed to be looking for him. Drying his face off with his shirt, he walked out and decided to call him.

The phone rang a few times before the other side picked up.

"Where are you?" Suna said, walking out the school.

"I'm in your car hiding..." Akaashi spoke quietly.

He would of asked how he got in there but felt like there wasn't much of a point in asking. Making his way to his car he pulled out his keys and unlocked it from afar. It was a habit of his that he did because if he was ever jumped, he could run to his already locked car.

Getting inside, he turned the car on and sat there in silence. Air conditioning flowed, cooling both of them off. He'll drive them both to his house, where they can relax and talk about it. It would also allow him to hit a blunt. It was something he felt like he desperately needed.

"I think I'm going to start going to church from now on." Suna said as he pulled out the parking spot.

#sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu #sakuatsu #akaashi keiji #bokuaka #haikyuu!!#haikyuu series #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu ships #haikyuu au

4 notes · View notes

margellaine · 1 month

Text

In my early 20s

I haven't been writing much as compared to when I was in college. I still have that skill for deep reflection and gaining insights in my day-to-day life, and basically making sense of things but as I grew older, I became more quiet and discreet about these thoughts. It's kind of conflicting actually because a part of me wants to share wisdom and wants to inspire other people but then the other part of me is telling me I should just keep it to myself. I'm very big on my daily affirmations and manifestations and one of them is still to inspire other people and impart wisdom. I processed where this fear of speaking up came from and I think it was because I kept telling myself before that I wasn't really good at writing. I am good at speaking, I feel I have the charisma for it and I have had a lot of exposure from it but writing seems kind of daunting for me because when you do write, there's an evidence of what you've said and if you were to say something wrong, people can still come back to it and judge you. The fear of being perceived, the fear of being wrong, the fear of failing. Well, as someone who is very persistent at getting better all the time and someone who has a lot of thoughts lol, I think i'll just start small. I feel like this is a good platform because nobody here really knows me personally and people here are more carefree than in any other platforms.

Anyway, enough about that. Today I wanted to talk about how I am navigating through my early 20s. I am 24 btw. As compared to most people, I've already figured out what I wanted to do in my life early on and so goal setting and decision making was quite easy. I know people keep telling me to enjoy my 20s, well I am enjoying my 20s, just not in the way people imagined. I am in a field that I actually love, I enjoy my jobs both part-time and fulltime job, I enjoy my graduate studies, and basically I enjoy everything that I'm doing right now. Although I am mostly busy, I work 7 days a week, 5 days for my full-time job and part-time job. I don't go out as much as other people because most of my day is occupied with work. Of course, I get tired and burnt out too because my work entails listening to people about their mental health issues and well-being but overall I feel fulfilled with my job. I feel a sense of purpose and I have a strong drive to grow and learn everyday. Work-life balance, I am working on it. I'm making conscious choices to rest more. I'm making it an intention to have a day free for myself to rest. I'm also including it in my monthly plans to do something creative or do something new. Right now, I would say I'm struggling with my search for a 'community'. I grew up being involved in a lot of communities, civic organizations, community organizations, school organizations, creative groups and when I graduated, I had less and less of that. Of course I have my new community, my workmates from both jobs but well, that's work and I've learned that relationships in workplaces are quite complex. I feel like right now, I need a community where I can just be my creative and passionate self. I used to belong to a number of communities in music, theater, and arts but right now, my life is quite different that I can't imagine yet going back to that kind of lifestyle as I know that when I do go back to those communities, I become very invested to it. So i'm thinking maybe this is the time for me to explore new things too.

Speaking of exploring and trying new things, it brings me to the topic of insecurity and social pressures. I was listening to a podcast earlier where they were saying that people in their 20s right now experience more pressure than people in their 20s before. The pressures came from of course, social media. They said that because of social media, you get to see what other people are doing and it gives you the idea of what you could be doing too and there's so many pressures out there, so many information, so many options, that you feel more pressure to actually "enjoy your 20s" that you end up not enjoying it at all. I found that insightful because it verbalized one of the reasons why I've withdrawn so much from social media. I used to be all over social media not just for personal purposes but also professional purposes. I was a performer then and had a bit of influence in terms of music and performing. It was fun at first putting out your creative self out there, opportunities came left and right, getting appreciation from people until the effects of being in the limelight affected my self-esteem and mental health. Along with other personal traumatic incidents, I had to go under the social media radar. It was hard at first of course, but the more I stayed away from it and found other ways to spend my time instead of posting and scrolling on socmed, it became easier. I'm proud to say that I don't ever feel the need to know what others are posting anymore, I don't feel the need to let other people know what I'm doing too, and overall socmed is just very easy to remove from my day to day activities at this point. My use of socmed now is more intentional and I'm able to filter what content is best for me to consume. I love that. Of course, most people now don't know what i'm doing in my life. That's okay. I'm content with my interactions with people now. I am able to set healthier boundaries. And well, it's kind of cool to be lowkey and mysterious lol.

Anyway, all I'm saying is I'm proud of how I'm handling my 20s. It's not perfect and I still feel pressure too but it's more of pressure from the real world, not from what I perceive online. I'm proud to be part of the "outliers". My lifestyle right now helps me function more on internal values rather than external circumstances. Sure, I get insecure every once in a while but because I'm already sure and set on what I want for myself, it's easier now to get back on my real purpose, my sense of self, and decide based on that. In effect, less likely for me to stray from my path. Paired with my highly organized but also flexible way of goal-setting behaviors, it's easier for me to achieve things and do things that really contribute to the life that I've envisioned for myself. Many people may not understand my methods and it's effect on my behavior and relationships with them, but that's okay. I've recently learned that that's a good thing. It helps me recognize the people who will really appreciate me for who I am. It may be isolating sometimes, but that only challenges me to confront myself and the insecurities that my arise from that. It helps me sit with myself and not run away from myself, take accountability of my actions, be more responsible, and contribute more to the things that really matter. Wow, I actually love my life and I'm content with what I have now at the same time have it in me to keep pursuing a better life for me and my loved ones. Although my path may still have bumps and obstacles along the way but it's clear and sure and that helps me enjoy the journey even more. I should cherish this more.

0 notes

mikuni14 · 1 year

Text

Watching Name and Chompu is painful

I watched JaFirst scenes again, I keep smiling when I see them and think about them. When I think about Remeber Me, I try to focus on Golf and Gun and I usually succeed :) But unfortunately I also keep remembering how Name and Chompu are treated and I immediately become sad (and frustrated and irritated).

I don’t really understand why in Name and Chompu stories it was decided to focus so much on their disability and, what is important, on the negative aspects of these disabilities. Not only that, but to also build their lives, stories and their whole personalities around their disabilities. Watching them is painful, isn't it?

(But then again Champ’s whole life and personality is only about his grandfather and his family, so maybe it’s a Thing, Gun’s life also revolves around Mr.8 tbh, but somehow I don’t mind in his case heh)

To me, Em and Name, their story, would be better with a conflict based on separation issue, 1) Em could enjoy new and exciting life in a big city, parties, maybe have a crush on of someone cool 2) Em could be overwhelmed by the work, new duties, he would be too tired to keep regular contact with Name. There could be various other problems caused by their separation! And yet everything seems to indicate that the problem in their relationship is ... Name's mutism. Like ??? The worst thing is, that nobody really knows how to handle it, neither Name, his mother, neither Em, they just fight, struggle and cry (and they might plot behind his back to force him to speak, which is ugh). I really don't know how the series will treat and solve this problem, because at this moment the only option in my opinion (based on the limited information provided by the series) is a therapy for Name, preferably with his mother as well.

Because (in my opinion, of course, I can be completely wrong) Name's mutism is not a problem, as his mother says all the time, the problem is his inability to go out and also lack of independence. If Name could leave the house, meet other people, he would not be “stuck” on Em, would not wait for hours, days for just crumbs of his attention, ending in despair. He would be busy with something else, his thought occupied with something else, not only Em, not his loneliness. This is a problem of mental health, not inability to speak, Name speaks with sign language and writing. I understand his mom’s frustration and fear about leaving her son alone, if something happened to her (which can happen so easily, last episode is a proof of that). But it should not be about making Name speak, but about him living independently of his mother and Em. Also learning how to communicate with the rest of the world, (even if the world doesn’t listen). Because since parting with his friends, we see him all the time alone in the room, waiting for ANYTHING from Em. We actually don’t see him doing ANYTHING ELSE. Look how he changed, because someone else paid attention to him. One mysterious stranger from the Internet made Name super happy. And this is a problem imo. His dependency on others. Because the moment that person disappears from his life, we have terrible scenes with bottles of pills!!! Em is present, it’s wonderful, Em is absent, there’s depression, N is present, it’s wonderful, what will happen when he/she disappears as well? I worry so much about Name, but I worry mostly about how he would bo able to handle himself, in case something happend to his mom. The main theme of Remember Me is communication. Name is currently the only one unable to communicate with the world and it’s so distressing to watch...

Same with Chompu. I was honestly surprised by the sudden break up and the reason for it. It seemed to me that Nan was quite ok as a boyfriend, that he was behaving naturally with Chompu. I was looking for signs that he’s ashamed of her, that he would be awkward, or that he didn't want to be seen with her in public - and nothing like that happened. And this happen often in cases of visible disability. And when I saw that Nan was pretty cool with being with a girl in a wheelchair, I was relieved, that this time it won't be a case! And suddenly it turns out that something is wrong and the problem is Chompu’s disability and I was so sure, that this is not a problem this time??

And I just don't get it. It's so sad and depressive. As if Name was only this Mute Kid, and Chompu was only a girl in a wheelchair. I like BL because most of the time couples have problems and dramas that are NOT related to their sexuality. I guess it’s too soon to have a character with disability having problems that are not related to it... Just imagine a character that is mute or is in a wheelchair, that has a whole romance story and their issues are, I don’t know, mafia trying to kill them, a boring job, or being hunted by a handsome cop for a fucking TAX EVASIONS lol.

#Remember Me #thai bl #bl drama

0 notes

13feathers · 1 year

Text

I guess I'll start by saying. It's a windy day on the coast of new England ,

the sun is planning to set soon and I'm only working three days this week due to thanksgiving. So I'm kind of looking forward to a four day weekend. But to be honast. Part of me is not.

I used to be happy. Lately I haven't.

I tried to find a mental health advisor, therapist, shrink, call them whatever you want. But that became more of an issue due to scheduling and working a full time job. Nothing ever lined up. Wether it was the shrink or the times available or both...

I'm not suicidal. I'm actually pretty sane. And that'll be understood I guess , by you...the reader ...after a little time and words.

I've just been dealt a load of shit over an extended period of time. And I need to vent. I need to get it out. I couldn't keep up with downturns. So I started watching psych professors on line to try and figure out alot of what's going on in my head.

Beleive me. I'm not one to look outwardly for help with my mental state. I've always tried to hold it together. Beleiving whole heartedly that I could figure it out on my own and proud. Very proud of the fact that I got through alot of a hard life sanity intact.

But now I find myself in a bit of a depression. And winter's setting in.

I'm not scared. I just want out. I want me back. The real me. Not this tired , down, version. The happy, fun loving, charasmatic, artful, soulful , unabreviated version that I used to be.

So I'm gonna write. Cause that's what I do.

I'm a songwriter. A writer of prose. A terrible speller. A social drinker of words and concepts and ideas , be it brilliant, blatant, or foolish. As long as they're fresh to the ears or attacked from new angles.

To calm the ruminating thoughts in my head recently. I thought back on a book I read long ago. And recently re read. Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance.

In it the writer describes mechanics as not art. But the opposite of art. Rational thought. The equations add up. If you do this and follow specs then it works. What's supposed to happen. Happens.

Hear me out.

I'm a songwriter. And at the moment , My emotional state is unregulated. Songwriting and writing in general, used to be the tool I used to vent all of that emotion out of me. But I've gotten overloaded.

I've tried to write. But the subject matter gets too deep and disgusts me to write about it. It's become more rhuminating , arguing with ghosts on a page I'd rather leave blank.

So I needed something to do that only allows rational thought.

My brother was a crack head back in the 80's. Man he put my family, my mom and me through hell with the stealing and lieing and waste his life had become back then.

I might go into detail about that time later but for now let's just say it was bad. Especially after just losing our father a couple years previous at 45 yrs old. I was 15 at the time. 17 when my brother got really bad with the crack.

but one day. Something changed.

He wanted to get clean.

We were planning on selling the only house I ever knew and my mom planned on fixing it up. My brother needed to keep his mind occupied on something other than drugs.

He'd sleep all day but at dusk he'd wake up. And he'd knock on my bedroom door. C'mon he'd say. We're gonna paint the stairwell , or were gonna put a new run down in the living room or were gonna put lolly collumns under that sag in the kitchen floor and I'd get up. And I'd follow him to whatever job we were doing that night. And I'd stand there. And watch.

Oh it didn't start out that way... I had every intention of helping but see , my brother had this way of wanting to show me how to do things. That meant even if I knew how to do things better than he did sometimes. So I'd watch. And by the time he was done explaining how to do the job. He was finished with it. So , there ya have it. I watched.

See my brother didn't need any help. He was strong as a bull and knew as much as anyone about building and remodeling. All he wanted was for me to stand there. And listen.

In the beginning there was alot of showing me how. Sometimes silence, ... That's when I knew he was in his head and the craving were bad. But then he'd start talking again. And that's when the realness of why I was there entered the picture.

He'd try to teach me how to do things. He'd talk and I'd listen and he'd tell me stories and spew what we referred too as useless knowledge. But sometimes. He'd tell me things. Things he needed to admit to someone. Admit to himself take responsibility for things out loud hold hiself accountable for wrongs How much crack he'd do. How he started in the first place , the stuff he'd do when he was on it or for it. Those were hard nights to listen too. when he finally realized he needed to get sober. it was his way of atoning for the guilt of it all. And I was the one who he confided all that too. But he needed that rational thought. That zen work. That kept his mind from rhuminating on his addiction. And that's why I'm writing this.

He went on to marry his highschool sweetheart who stuck by him through his bullshit. And he had four kids with her and raised them all with her.

Me and my bro used to build motorcycles. We built everything actually. Starting from when we were young. Go carts turned into bicyles then minibikes turned into motorcycles then cars, then crack....... For him. And he was there. But gone for a while. When he got clean. Bikes came back into the picture. Harley's BSA's Norton's, triumphs, we built em. Even a few cb 750s in savior frames.

My dad was a master mechanic and a songwriter / musician. Me and my brother kinda got that from him. My bro, he was the master machanic who dabbled in playing guitar. I was the songwriter with bands who dabbled in machanics.

I really not sure if I'm rambling , I'm really not sure if anyone's gonna want to read this anyway. But I need the release so I'm taking it. But to try to tie this all up and bring it back ......

We lost our mom to matastisized breast cancer in 2011. I was her caregiver. Just as she was the caregiver for my grandmother and my great grandmother before her.

In summer of 2020 , after I had just gotten out of a very bad relationship with an abusive gf I lost my brother to a heart attack. 3 months later I lost my sister to closet alchaholism.

I thought things were looking up last year tho until my last relationship also turned sour and ended pretty badly.

All of that kinda sent me on a downward spiral of depression with pretty much my entire support group now gone.

And then , in October of this year I lost my niece. My brothers daughter. Who's only 4 days younger than my own daughter.

It's alot. But like I said. I'm gonna try to write myself better.

So upon realizing I'm in over my head with my head. I needed a little zen work, rational thought, something to do outside of the constant overthinking so instead of home improvement. I decided to start building a vintage motorcycle. You'll be seeing the work on here eventually. It's the first build by myself. Without my bro telling me I'm doing it wrong.

And the second part. I need an ear. Someone to listen. Or at least an abyss to scream into... And that's where you come in....

So I might throw in some words, maybe elaborate and write myself through some of the feelings I have about these things I've written tonight. And maybe even a few songs.

For now I think I'm done for the night.

And thank you very much for reading.

1 note · View note

sunatooru · 3 years

Note

hi hello can i request a scenario/drabble for tsukishima, kuroo, oikawa, and akaashi with a fem!so who fainted during their heated argument? their argument would be about s/o being clingy and needy, and always talking and being noisy; turns out the reason she fainted was because of the fever she had early in the morning but didn't tell them about it in order not to be a 'bother' or 'nuisance'... then her fever got really worse during the argument and faints. *cue their boyfriends feeling like shit for all the rude things they said*

i am in need of some angst🪆

Sorry it took so long (I’ve had this since March 😭) but I hope it fills your angst need x

Warning: angst/comfort, gn!Reader, post Timeskip spoilers …are they dramatic?Yes

Tsukishima

It was rare you got to spend time with your boyfriend. Especially as he juggled working and playing volleyball. You wouldn’t miss the chance to be with him for a whole day, even if you woke up feeling like your head was being hammered.

You stayed wrapped around his arm, happily joining him on the sofa. You move to wrap your arms around his torso but he pushes your attempt away. You blink at him in confusion and try again, but fail when he stops you once more.

“Keiii, I want to cuddle..” you pout and he scoffs.

“What’s wrong with you? I finally get a day to relax and instead, I have you clinging to me and being annoying.” He glares at you, making you pull back and your throat tighten.

“I-“ you get cut off

“You what? You’re always trying to push yourself on me. It’s suffocating!” He gets up and walks towards the bedroom, you hot on his heels.

“Kei, can you please be a little quieter? All I want is to spend some time with you…you’re always so busy…” you defend but he kisses his teeth.

“Exactly. I’m always busy, so can you just let me chill out? I don’t need you whining in my ear and having you on me all the time! God, it’s like you need to annoy me!” He shouts at you.

You swallow harshly. Your chest feeling tight as his words ring in your ear. Your head pounding as you feel yourself heat up.

“Kei…I-I don’t…” you try to reach for him but he moves.

“Did you not just hear what I s- hey..hey!” You feel yourself lean forward as your eyes close.

You wake up when you feel something cool on your forehead, opening your eyes slowly to see Kei next to you.

“Kei…”

“Are you okay? You just fainted out of nowhere…why…and I said all those thing-“ you grab his hand.

“I wasn’t feeling well in the morning…I tried to push it away to spend time with you…” he looks at you guiltily, sighing and cupping your hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re not suffocating…everyday I come home, I can’t wait to see you. I don’t know why I said that…I’ve just been so overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I’m sorry baby. ” He confesses.

“I love you so much…I don’t even deserve you.” He whispers, biting his tongue as he looks at you.

“Hmm, I love you too…it’s okay. Can you just hold me, please.” You give him a small smile and he wraps you around him.

Kuroo

It’s that time of year where deadlines need to be met. You watch him scribble on papers and pull at his hair. You could see how tense he was and decided to bring him something hot to sip on.

“Tetsu, you need a break.” You slowly make your way into the room, carrying a hot mug and small snack.

“Can’t. Got to finish finalising the contract.” He informs, crossing out lines and writing again.

You huff and approach him, struggling to find a place to set the tray due to his messy desk.

“Come on. You need to atleast drink something, you’ve been at it for hours now. “ you press, causing him to clench his jaw.

He slams his pen against the desk, startling you before he faces you.

“I just said I need to finish this contract. Of course I’ve been working on it for hours. It’s important. You’ve been coming in and out of the room and disturbing me! I’m busy trying to do my job and you can’t even leave me alone for a few hours? Stop being so clingy all the time!” He fumes, eyes glaring at you as he starts to stand up.

You feel you mouth go dry as his words echo, your vision starting to fade as he finally stands, a rush taking over that you drop the tray. A loud smash of the mug rings in your ear.

“Are you serious- babe! What’s- babe!” Is the last thing you hear before your vision goes black.

You stir when you feel movement besides you. Slowly opening your eyes to see his leg bouncing nervously. He notices you looking and instantly grabs your hand.

“Have you not been eating? Were you waiting for me? Fuck! You fainted, I- what happened?” He rambles, eyes filled with regret.

“I felt a fever in the morning but I didn’t want to tell you because I knew how important your contract was.” You mumble, avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, babe. I was so stressed and occupied with the deal that I forgot about you and said so many regrettable things. Please, I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re not clingy. I love that you’re always watching over me. I promise, I’ll take more care. Of you and me.” He apologises, bring your hand up to kiss it.

“Here drink this.” He hands you a mug, your eyes widening as your remember the one you dropped.

“I cleaned it, don’t worry. I’m sorry. Let’s just get you feeling better, okay. The contract can wait. You’re more important.” You give him a small smile and nod.

He stays besides you until you persuade him you’re better. He kisses and hugs you until you’re both laughing like before.

Oikawa

You always told each other where you were going before leaving. It was something you did for safety. Yet, recently he’d been leaving before you wake up and coming home late. You reasoned it was probably for the upcoming game. The game that would makes his dream come true. But it did hurt that that one routine had started to break.

You had woken up to your head pounding. Your body feeling hotter than usual and the bed empty for another morning. You attempt to shake it off and go on with the day.

You’re surprised when the door open around midday and see Tooru drop his bag.

“Tooru! You’re home!” You run up to hug him but he stops you.

“Sorry, I’m just really sweaty right now.” He kisses your forehead and runs towards the bathroom.

You smile to yourself, quickly fixing lunch, in hopes you would both enjoy together. But instead, you hear him run down and reach for the door again.

“Tooru, where are you going?” You stop him, confusion on your face.

“Ah I just need to go out again. You know the game and practice.” He states grabbing his bag.

“But you just got home. Look, I made you lunch too. You can practice tomorrow. I barely see you recently! You don’t even tell when you’re leaving…” you shout.

“No! I need to go. I need to practice more. I can’t be with you all the time, every day. You’re so needy. Can’t you see how important this is for me? What? I can’t even leave my own house without telling you?” He yells in frustration.

“That’s not the problem. You- you’re not even caring about your health. I just want to make sure you’re okay!” You feel yourself burn up again.

You get closer to him, hands shivering as you feel weak.

“Listen I’m going to training! Don’t wait-“ he’s walking out the door but you reach for him, collapsing against his back.

You hear mumbling and groan as you open your eyes.

“Tooru…” you call out and he’s there in a heartbeat.

“Do you know how high your temperature was? You were burning up! And then you fainted and I-I didn’t know what happening and god if anything happened to you I would never forgive myself.” He cries, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m okay..” you whisper but he shakes his head.

“No you’re not. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” He says, hurt.

“I don’t want to me a nuisance…and you haven’t really been here so I tried to shake off in the morning.” You reply.

“Since morning… please forgive me, baby. Please. I know I’ve been neglecting you and if I was here then you wouldn’t be feeling like this. I’m sorry for what I said. I know i can’t take it back but I wish I could, because it’s not true. You’re not needy. I’m just an idiot who keeps forgetting to appreciate you. Baby, I’m sorry for hurting you.” He sniffles, sitting next to you and pulling you into him.

“Tooru, you’ll get sick too.” You stress but he holds you tighter.

“Just a few more minutes. I’ve missed you too. I promise I won’t leave you and take care of you. Forever.” He kisses you deeply.

Akaashi

The best way you decided to get rid of the fever you woke up with, was to distract yourself doing anything else. You organised yourself desk, bed and even laundry. You could feel yourself getting warmer again and decide to find your boyfriend.

He’s in his study carefully editing a new clients work. He’s usually calm and collected but he’s been on edge due to the pressure from his boss. You watch him take off his glasses and rub his tired eyes. You sigh and walk in.

“Hi darling!” You say cheerfully, only to get a less enthusiastic response.

“You’ve been stuck to the desk the whole day. Come on, talk to me a bit. Think of it as a little break.” You wrap your arms around him from behind.

“I’m almost done. We can talk after.” He whispers.

“Keijiii, I’m so bored please. Plus you need to take some rest. Let’s just talk about something, like I don’t know, where we should travel to? Or maybe anything interesting that happened at work? Come on, I want to spend time with -“ you’re cut off by his stern voice.

“Gosh, why are you so talkative? I’m trying to focus on something and you keep talking and being noisy after I said we can talk later. It’s like you’re trying to annoy me on purpose!” He scrunches his fists and huffs.

“I-I’m just trying to look out for you. You know you need a break too. Don’t yell at me! Sorry I’m so talkative and trying to engage with my boyfriend, who clearly thinks I’m annoying.” You choke out, feeling a little woozy as you start to leave.

“Love, wait! I didn’t mean it…”

“Whatever…I should’ve just stayed in bed-“ you feel your eyes getting heavy, and your knees feeling weak.

“Y/n!”

You wake up a few minutes later to him wiping your face softly. You try to get up but he stops you.

“Easy, let me help.” You can hear the guilt in his voice as he sets your pillow.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you. I let my frustrations take over and put it on you. I want you to know that, I didn’t mean what I said. I should’ve paid more attention and seen you weren’t feeling well.” He fidgets with his hands, scared to look at you.

“Your words hurt, Keiji. Even if you were frustrated, just please take some breaks. You’re going to burnout if you don’t.” You cup his hands and he finally looks up.

“I know. I know, I’ll do better and listen to you. How do you feel?” He presses his hands to both your foreheads.

“Better now that you’re here.”

1K notes · View notes

myherowritings · 3 years

Text

PART 1. A VERY WELL-DESERVED TIP

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. my brief work as a barista is finally paying off. i suffered at sbux all to write this fic ✌︎('ω'✌︎ ) LMAOOO i frl had so much fun writing this and i’m very excited to share the next parts ;) i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i do!! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

You were not looking forward to your new work schedule for the next month.

The employee who usually came in for opening shifts at four in the morning gave her two weeks notice...two weeks ago. And since you had your availability open (you knew you should’ve blocked it off and said you had morning class), your manager asked you to fill her place.

The night before your first—of many—morning shifts, you tried tricking yourself into thinking it was a good idea. And it almost worked! Sort of.

You told yourself waking up early when the sun rose worked with your body’s natural circadian rhythm and this experience may adjust your sleep schedule for a healthier one in the long run. Better health and wellbeing and lower risks of cardiovascular disease. Or something. You weren’t too sure exactly; you never paid much attention in biology but it sounded like something you’d find in a textbook, right?

When you arrived on your first day, the morning shift was just as hectic and chaotic as you expected. People in business suits with name brand bluetooth earphones in their ears and the latest new smartphone in their hand filled the shop and waited for their online order. It was as if they wanted the least amount of social interaction possible, which would be fine if being able to make connections with customers wasn’t the most interesting part about being a barista.

Although the cafe you worked at was a small business who actually (tried) to pay their employees fairly and wasn’t a purely money hungry franchise like the certain green siren, it surprisingly had gained enough traction in the area to rival one of those cheap, chain stores.

Good for the business, bad for sleepy workers who could barely function in the mornings.

But you enjoyed working here and the owners were kind, so you did your best to shove away the tiredness and put a bright and cheery smile on your face. The customers were grumpier than you were used to, but who wouldn’t be a little ill-mannered having to go to work at 5 a.m. and probably not leaving until 6 p.m. or later because of bosses who overworked them? Trying to get them their morning coffee with an amiable attitude to start off their day right was something you were more than happy to do.

It was too bad barely any of them gave you the time of day. They just wanted to get their caffeine and leave with as little human interaction as possible. It was understandable, of course, but it wasn’t the lively cafe environment you were used to during later shifts. You sighed, hoping the atmosphere would be friendlier when it wasn’t a major rush hour.

“Hi! I can help the next person in line,” you called for the twentieth time this hour. When they moved forward towards the cash register, you gave them a smile. “Good morning. I hope your day has been going well!”

“It’s been okay, thank you. And yours?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you almost sputtered over thin air. Someone who actually replied back to what you said and asked about you in return? Even if the intent was a courtesy conversation that was meant to be quick and brief, the sentiment was there—the upholding of the values of common courtesy and human decency. Something too many people seemed to lack.

“I’m good as well! A little tired but what’s to be expected a quarter ‘til 6 a.m.?” you said with a laugh. “Thank you for asking.”

The customer gave a small smile in return and you internally celebrated for finally seeing your first pleasant expression this morning. “Must be even more tiring dealing with all these people. Doesn’t seem easy. I have to commend you for it.”

He was a tall, handsome man with a pretty face, soft-looking hair, and genuinely nice? There was no way this was real; you had to be dreaming.

You twiddled with the pen in your hands, taken aback and mildly embarrassed by the praise. “Just doing my job,” you said with a bashful look. “Thank you, though.” You cleared your throat, not wanting to hold the line up for too long, even if the customer was one you would rather keep talking to than the others. “Now, what can I get started for you today?”

“Right. Can I get a flat white in the medium size?”

“Of course.” You typed in his order into the register before asking, “And is there anything else I can get for you? Like a pastry? Today we have some freshly baked cheese danishes that are really yummy if you’d like to try!”

He thought for a while before shrugging. You weren’t sure if it was your eyes playing tricks on you or he actually had an amused look on his face. “Sure, I’ll take a couple dozen of those as well.”

“A couple dozen—?” your voice faltered. The suggestion of a fresh pastry was one you made to almost every customer, though most turned it down on the spot.

The cafe had a little weekly competition between workers to see who could sell the most pastries in the week and the one who sold most got...well, a free pastry and bragging rights. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but nothing revved up sales like friendly rivalries. An order of a couple dozen was sure to land you in the top spot this week! Still, you had to make sure he meant it. You’d feel bad if he was just spending all his hard-earned office work money because he was trying to be courteous. (Or at least, you assumed he was some office employee.)

You cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you yet again, or the look of amusement on his face grew even more than before as he said, “I’m sure. One medium flat white and, say, three dozen boxes of cheese danishes, please.”

“C-Coming right up!” you said, quickly entering his order and celebrating your free end-of-the-week pastry in advance. “That will be $42.81. Would that be card or cash?”

“Card.” He pulled out a sleek, black card with gold detailings on it and you never knew you could be sexually attracted to a credit card until now.

“Perfect! Go ahead and swipe, insert, or scan your card now. In the meantime, can I get a name for your order please?”

He scanned his card over the machine before looking back up at you. “It’s To— Ah, Shouto.”

“Shouto?” you asked in confirmation. You assumed it wasn’t ‘Toahshouto’. That sounded too much like the abbreviation used to remember how to find sine, cosine, and tangent.

“Yeah. Shouto.”

You smiled. “Well, Shouto, your order will be ready in a few minutes. Please wait over to your right to pick it up!”

He nodded.

“It was nice meeting you!” you called, waving goodbye. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you,” he glanced at your nametag, “Y/N.”

Oh, how nice it felt to be treated like a human by a customer and have them actually address your name— And not to say it in a condescending way either.

“Do individual baristas get to keep the tips here?”

You blinked, feeling your face warm up slightly. “We do, actually.” One of your favorite parts of the job, you had to admit.

“Glad to hear.” Shouto pulled out some crisp-looking bills from his wallet and placed one in your hand that said ‘100’ to you. “Thank you for your kind service, Y/N.”

“Wha—” Your eyes widened. You were expecting something along the line of three dollars. Maybe five at most. But a hundred? By the time you had processed what had happened he was walking away from the cash register. “Wait— Shouto...sir! I think you accidentally gave me the wrong amount.”

He shook his head, only briefly turning back to face you. “Nope. It’s for you,” he said simply. “I’m looking forward to the cheese danishes.”

His words left you stunned, but the next customer in line tapped their foot impatiently, signaling it was now time for you to take their order. You hoped the line died down before Shouto left the cafe so you could return the tip, but seeing as how the queue almost extended out the door, you had the sinking feeling that wouldn’t be a possibility.

“Hello, I can take the next customer in line!” you recited cheerfully, mind still occupied by thoughts of your last encounter.

The next few orders went along uneventfully (though you did manage to sell two more cheese danishes) and by the time Shouto got his coffee and pastry boxes, you still had a handful more customers to get through.

“Pardon me real quick,” you said apologetically to the woman in front of you. “Please give me one moment?”

She graced you with a nod and you thanked the stars above for an understanding patron.

“Wait— Excuse me, sir!” You waved in Shouto’s direction before he could exit the cafe. He glanced at you curiously but walked over. In a hushed voice, you said, “I really appreciate the tip, but there’s no way I could accept this much money from you!”

For the first time today, you say the hints of a frown on his face. “You cannot?”

“No! $100 is a lot! You already bought $40 worth of cheese danish pastries— Are you sure you meant to give that big of a tip?”

“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee with a satisfied hum. “You getting up at such an early hour to take people’s orders with a kind attitude isn’t easy. Plus, trying to build rapport with each of them all while keeping the interacting swift is a difficult task itself. And it’s probably worth more than your current pay, the $100 tip, and then some.”

You blinked, stunned by his words. This man kept surprising you so many times in just one morning.

“I find it ridiculous how certain occupations are paid an ungodly amount more than others, especially when a lot of it comes from privileges you were born into.” Shouto seemed to mumble the last bit to himself, but you were still able to understand what he said. “It’s bullshit.” Before you could respond, he recollected himself. “Eat the rich, right? All that to say, please accept the tip. You deserve it. And I promise it’s of no detriment to me, so please don’t feel bad.”

Seeing the determined look on his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him before nodding. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already believe yourself, and if someone really wanted to give you $100, you weren’t going to fight them on it. Think of all the dumplings you could buy, you told yourself.

“T-Thank you then.” You gingerly placed the folded bill back into your pants pocket. “I think that was really insightful of you and I’m very grateful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before glancing towards the exit. “I’m running a bit late for work now, so I should be going. Have a good day, Y/N.”

“You too, Shouto. And… Thank you again!”

With a glowing expression on your face, you walked back to the cash register ready to face the day and talk to more lovely customers!

“Hey, little barista!” a gruff voice called from the line, snapping you out of your stupor. “Hurry it up already before you force me to complain to your manager.”

You internally sighed. You understood they were in a rush, but they still had no right to be that rude.

“Can you even hear me? Or are you too incompetent?”

Cue another internal sigh.

Yeah, okay. Maybe you did deserve this $100 tip.

Regardless of the rude customers that may have come in, at least you had your thoughts of a cute, kind businessman who went by the name of Shouto to get you through your shift. And you could only hope you’d be able to see him again.

a/n: the end of part one folks!! oh what i’d give to have gotten a tip like this when i worked as a barista BAHAHA only in my dreams. i hope you enjoyed this little intro part and are excited for what’s to come !! :3

what to expect in the next part:

~maybe~ y/n will see shouto again and,,perhaps,,get more tips from him idk who knows

old lady imparts some...helpful(?) advice

we briefly get to see shouto’s pov! ;D

3K notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Hey Angel - Harry Styles

a/n: since i had so much time on my hand at work lately (not anymore unfortunately) i used it wisely and cooked up this PA themed fic bc i absolutely love this trope. it’s lengthy and kinda emotional? kinda, lol. hope you’ll like it and as always, feedback is much appreciated!!

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.5k

masterlist

Harry likes to pretend he is tall enough to comfortably rest his chin on the top of your head when he stands behind you, but that’s not true. He has to push himself a little to his tippy toes and push you down at the same time to fit his chin above you, his arms weighing down on your shoulders. You stopped arguing him that you need to push your hips forward when he does this so you don’t carry his whole weight.

“Tha’s rude, you do not have to do tha’!” he defended himself every time you brought up, so you just stopped.

Now as you watch the game of air hockey unfold in front of you, a half empty pint in your hand, you don’t even budge when you feel a chiseled chin resting on the top of your head, you push your hips forward without a second thought to shorten your height. You catch a glimpse of a tattooed forearm on your shoulder, Harry’s chest presses against your back gently.

He doesn’t stay in this position too long, it’s making it hard to drink so soon enough, he wraps his left arm around your shoulders, coming to stand next to you, sipping on his tequila on the rocks.

“Hey you,” you smile at him as he gives you a side look, a boyish smirk tugging on his pink lips. “Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.”

“You need something? How much have you had to drink?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows, looking down at his glass that was certainly full when you last saw him about ten minutes ago.

“Shush, stop pretending like you’re working,” he waves at your face, his words melting together, definitely thanks to the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“I know I’m not working, I’m just tryna’ be your friend and look out for you.” Bringing your own drink up to your lips, you give him a look, but he just smirks at you playfully.

“Uh-huh, whatever. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you, H,” you sigh dramatically and it makes him laugh with his head falling back.

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m some spoiled brat celebrity you ‘ave to babysit for your living? And that I always do ridiculous shit so you ‘ave to keep an eye on me at all times?”

You can’t push your smile down at how far this statement is from reality. You just like to tease him about being a typical, asshole rockstar when he is literally your favorite person in the world without a doubt.

“Oh Angel, you can’t fool me,” he cackles, squeezing you to his side before taking another sip from his drink.

“Wouldn’t even try to,” you mumble with an amused smile. “Havin’ fun, birthday boy?” you ask, leaning into his side. You would never admit, but you love how touchy Harry can get sometimes, not really caring about physical boundaries, especially when he drinks. The hugs, the squeezes, the touches, they always make your heart flutter even after knowing him for years.

“I’m havin’ a blast. What about you?”

“What about me? It’s not my birthday,” you chuckle shortly.

“So what? I can’t make sure you’re enjoying your night?” he frowns at you dramatically that just makes you laugh.

“I’m having a great night. It’s just that my boss keeps coming after me even though I’m supposed to be off the clock.”

You peek up at him to see the grin on his face at your teasing. The dynamic between the two of you has been like this since day one. The constant bickering and teasing is what really brought the two of you close, you are so similar, it’s like you can see a male version of yourself when you look at him.

“Tell the dude to fuck off,” he mumbles into his drink and you bump your hip against him, but he just holds you tight to his side as an answer.

Soon enough, Harry joins the game and you watch him play from the side, obviously cheering on his opponent to annoy him, earning some pretty dirty looks from him whenever they score against him and you let out a “woho!” in victory.

“Y’know, it’s not too nice to cheer against the birthday boy, is it?” he calls you out when the table is taken by someone else and he joins you at the side again.

“Am I not allowed to choose who I want to cheer to?” you ask with a faked puzzled look and he presses his lips into a thin line, glaring down at you intently.

“Don’t test me, Angel,” he grumbles into your ear before walking off to join his friends who came out to celebrate with him today.

It’s a pretty lowkey celebration, since he is still in the middle of filming Don’t Worry Darling, so he couldn’t really travel far from the set, but some of his dearest friends were able to come here and celebrate with him and his cast members.

You stand at the bar and your eyes find him every time you scan the place, not able to keep your gaze away from him for too long, he just demands the attention. Or at least yours.

You’ve never met anyone like him. When you got the chance to be his personal assistant four years ago at the very beginning of his solo career, you never thought how he’ll move right into your heart and never leave it. Whether you look at him as your boss or your friend, you can’t deny that he changed your life and you’ve learned so much from him, you can only hope he thinks of you somewhat the same. However you always tell yourself: what could you possibly give for The Harry Styles? He has everything in the whole wide world.

Harry catches you staring and he arches a brow at you, abandoning the conversation he has been in for the past minutes, mouthing you “what’s up, Angel”, his accent thick even without hearing his voice.

He’s been calling you Angel for longer than you can remember. When you asked him why the nickname, he said it’s because One Direction’s song Hey Angel was written about you. It was a fat lie, you haven’t met him when the song was written, but his words still tightened your chest, playing with the thought of Harry writing a song about you.

As cheesy and cliché as it is, you fell for him faster than you’d like to admit. You tried to fight it for a while, convince yourself it’s just a silly crush, but you soon had to realize you outgrew that after the first few weeks working with him. How could you not fall for him? He is everything any woman could wish for and he has you wrapped around his fingers, just like he has half the female population, probably.

You shake your head in his way, not sure how to tell him you just got lost in your thoughts about him. In fact, he occupies your mind pretty much all the time, but he doesn’t have to know about that.

He excuses himself from the table and walks up to you, a slow breath leaving your nose as you watch him approach you.

“Tired?” he asks, stopping in front of you, placing his empty glass to the counter.

“Kinda,” you nod.

“Want to head home soon?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can just call a taxi and go home, you don’t have to come.”

“Don’t be silly, we go to the same place, obviously we’re gonna go home together.”

Since filming has started, Harry and you’ve been sharing a nice apartment near the set. It was his idea to rent a place for the two of you, rather than to stay at a hotel. At first you didn’t think it would be a good idea, but of course, he convinced you to live with him for the months while the movie is being filmed. So now you basically live with Harry, share pretty much all your living space with him, except your bedroom.

“But it’s your birthday, stay as long as you want,” you tell him, not wanting to snatch him away from his friends on his big day.

“We’re filming in the afternoon tomorrow, can’t drag the night too long either way,” he shrugs, trying to make you believe it’s really nothing.

No matter how badly you try to convince him to stay, he doesn’t bulge and starts saying goodbye within an hour, calling the two of you a car to take you home. He is clearly tipsy, but not drunk. Once you’re in the car, Harry’s hand finds yours and he pulls you closer in the backseat until your thighs are pressed together. He curls an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to his side, sinking down in the seat. You let your head rest on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness of his body, pressing down any worrying thought that usually makes its way to your mind every time Harry gets a little cozier than the usual.

The rational side of your brain knows you should be keeping some distance from him for the sake of your own sanity and emotional health, but you just can’t. Denying these little moments from yourself would be like pure torture and your heart can’t take that for sure.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” he murmurs, his nose nuzzling into your hair and you just shrug your shoulders.

“Nothing,” you mumble your lie.

“Liar, I can hear the gears turning in that pretty head of yours,” he grins down at you as your eyes lock for a moment. Thank God for the darkness in the car, because you can feel your cheeks heating up. The last thing you need is for Harry to see how nervous he can make you feel with just a simple compliment.

“Stop being nosy, you don’t have to know everything all the time.” You poke his side with your elbow, it makes him jump a little before he snuggles back to your side.

“That’s not true, you know I’m entitled to hold every knowledge in the world.” He tries to hide his smirk, but he fails miserably and you just laugh at him with your head falling back to his shoulder.

“Harry Styles, you are something else,” you sigh shaking your head at him.

Arriving home Harry keeps an arm around you as you walk up to the front door, fishing your keys out of your bag since you’d bet Harry didn’t bring his. There’s a chance he hasn’t even used his copy since you’ve been here, he knows you always have yours and you haven’t really left without each other so far, always staying around the other.

“Want to shower first?” he hums, walking inside, his arm leaving your shoulders and though you feel lighter without the extra weight, you wish it was still there.

“Go for it, I’m gonna clean up the mess I made when I got ready earlier,” you tell him, heading into your bedroom where the floor is littered with half your wardrobe from earlier, when you were trying to figure out what to wear for the little outing.

Harry disappears in the shared bathroom and a moment later you hear the water running. You go around your room, picking up the dresses you voted against, placing them back into the wardrobe and then you put away your makeup you left on your bed in your hurry.

“Bathroom is yours!” Harry calls out just when you finish, you hear his bedroom door open and close so you grab a clean oversized t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts before occupying the bathroom.

The warm shower feels nice, it’s been a long day since you started on set, Harry had a few scenes to film before you could leave in the afternoon. You wash away the day, scrub your makeup off and then take off the rest with your wipes once you’re out. You brush your hair and use some lotion for your dry skin before getting dressed and leaving the steamy bathroom.

Padding down the short hallway you hear nothing coming from Harry’s bedroom and you wonder if he’s already asleep, but once you step inside your room you see that he is cozied up on your bed, your covers pulled up to his naked chest, a pillow tucked under his head as he scrolls through his phone so shamelessly, as if it was his own room.

“Did you take the wrong turn in the hallway?” you ask with an arched eyebrow as you throw your dirty clothes to your temporary hamper, which is basically your emptied out suitcase.

“Nope,” he grins smugly, you have to roll your eyes at him. He locks his phone, dropping it to the side table, watching you move around, getting ready for bed and his eyes on your figure feel like they’re burning down on your skin.

“You know, it’s rude to stare,” you comment not even looking at him, but you just know he is still staring at you. Grabbing a hairtie from the little dresses in the corner of your room you reach back to loosely braid your hair, but his voice stops you.

“Wait,” he pleads and you furrow your eyebrows at him. “Can I do it?”

You give him a confused look as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, his green eyes are glimmering from the tiredness and the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“You want to braid my hair?”

“Yeah,” he nods. You hesitate for a moment but join him on the bed at last, turning your back against him, giving him full control over your hair.

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers raking through your strands. He is so gentle and careful as you feel him section your hair off to three parts.

“Didn’t know you can braid,” you tell him, eyes fixated on the sheets in front of you.

“Gemma taught me, but I’m not the best at it.”

“So I’ll look atrocious?” you tease him smiling to yourself. He pokes the back of your neck with his fingers before continuing his work.

“You could never look atrocious, even if you tried.”

“And you are such a flirt,” you sigh. Over the years you’ve gotten used to his flirty act, it’s just who he is and though in the beginning your breath always got caught in your throat when he said something cheesy, now you just brush it off, only thinking about his words when you are alone in the night, struggling to fall asleep because you’re once again, thinking about him.

“M’telling the truth. Have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?”

“Mmm,” you hum. He has told you that you looked pretty when the two of you left and he saw you walk out of your room in your black skinny jeans and flowy sheer top on, your hair loosely curled, but you didn’t really know what to say, so you just smiled at him and it’s the same now. You’re not the best at taking compliments.

“You really did. You always are.”

“And once again, you are such a flirt.”

“Complimenting a pretty woman is being a flirt?” he asks pretending to be offended as he carefully works on your hair and you wish you could see his focused face as he is trying to keep track of the sections between his fingers. At a lack of a witty comeback, you just shrug your shoulders, fumbling with your fingers on your lap.

You both fall silent as he concentrates on your hair and you manage to stop thinking, just focus on how his fingers keep brushing against your back every time he crosses two sections over each other.

“Hairtie, please,” he asks, his hand appearing next to you with his palm upwards. You place it in his hand and he finishes up his masterpiece. “There, it didn’t turn out as bad as I thought,” he comments once he is done. Reaching back you run your fingers over the braid and it feels good, he did a great job.

“Thanks,” you smile at him shyly, turning around. He leans back, making himself comfortable once again and you arch an eyebrow at him. “Need me to walk you back to your room, sir?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine here,” he grins smugly, tugging his arm behind his head as he takes up the right side of the bed.

“You’re planning to sleep here?”

“Please, don’t make me sleep alone on my birthday!” he pouts, giving you those damned puppy eyes. How could you ever say no to him?

“You better not push me off the bed in your sleep,” you mumble before getting under the covers.

You turn off the bedside lamp and the two of you start moving around, finding a comfortable pose to sleep in and you end up facing each other on your sides, Harry’s face squished into the pillow as his eyes are roaming over the hand you have laid between your faces.

His fingers start to inch towards yours until he hooks his pinky with yours, the touch sending a warm feeling down your spine.

“I hate sleeping alone,” he mumbles into the semi-darkness.

“Why?”

“Don’t you like it when there’s someone next to you? When you wake up and you’re not alone?”

“I like it, but I don’t hate sleeping alone either,” you tell him as your eyes fall to your linked pinky fingers. “Why do you hate it? You have the bed all to yourself, and there’s no chance of waking up to someone snoring or talking in their sleep.”

He huffs out a laugh as he buries his head deeper into the pillow.

“It makes me feel lonely. Which is ridiculous, because I’m never alone.”

“But lonely and alone are not the same, so it’s not ridiculous. You can feel lonely when you’re not alone.”

“I know,” he nods, his eyes watching your linked fingers intently, before he moves his hand so it’s now covering yours, his warm palm wrapping around your much smaller hand. “I’m never lonely with you, though.”

“So… you are only lonely when you’re sleeping or in the bathroom, because we basically spend every moment of the day together.” You smirk at him and see his dimple form in his cheek as he smiles at you nodding.

“That’s right. We are like glued together.”

“How aren’t we sick of each other already?”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“You sure about that?” You raise your eyebrows at him with an amused smile, he is too sure about that answer.

“One hundred percent. You’re my favorite person.”

“Is that what you tell everyone?”

He gives you a look, but you just chuckle, sinking further into your pillow. His fingers start playing with your hand as he draws a deep breath.

“I only tell this to m’ mum and Gemma. No one else.”

Your heart starts racing at the thought of him seeing you on the same level as his closest family. You know how much his mum and sister mean to him, but you never thought you are anywhere near them in his eyes.

“You’re my favorite person too,” you whisper as your eyes meet over your joined hands. He smiles at you warmly, his floppy curls falling into his forehead and you want to run your fingers through them, feel how soft they are under your touch. Harry scoots closer, your faces only a few inches away from each other as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

For a moment you just watch him, thinking how good it feels to have him in your bed. How amazing it is to end the day with him so close to you. You wish all days would end like this, you wouldn’t have another bad day with him next to you.

Lying there and watching him slowly fall asleep, his hand still on yours, the bitter thought eats itself into your mind that he is only here because he feels lonely and wanted to be close to someone, not you particularly. And though you’re glad it’s you he ended up next to, you try not to get too accustomed to the feeling, because you’re just a temporary fix to his loneliness.

The door to Harry’s trailer opens and he walks in wearing his blue dress pants and crispy white dress shirt, fumbling with the top buttons to undo them. You glance up at him from your laptop where you’ve been working on his schedule for the upcoming weeks while he was filming.

“Hey, how did it go?” you ask as he places his water bottle to the vanity and then sits in the chair he spends his mornings in while his hair is being styled and tattoos are covered.

“Good. Messed up only a few times. Whacha’ working on?”

“Just your schedule, I’ll email it to you when I’m done, though you never check it.”

“Hey, I do check it! I like your color coding. I just suck at using it and you’re always here to remind me of the important stuff.”

You roll your eyes, continuing to type away on your keyboard as he moves around, having a snack and texting back people.

“Florence is coming over for a little after we’re done. We can order something,” he speaks up grabbing your attention again.

“Cool,” you nod with a small smile. “Is she staying the night?”

“No, we just thought it would be nice to hang out a little without dressed like this,” he chuckles looking down at himself.

“What’s wrong with Jack’s clothes? You look neat.”

“Do I?” he cocks an eyebrow cheekily, placing his hands to his hips as he looks down at you.

“Yeah. It’s a nice change after all the grandpa clothes,” you tease him and he gasps pretending to be offended at your words, though you both know you have nothing against his style. In fact, you love how he just wears whatever he wants, not caring what others would think.

“Watch your mouth or you can’t wear my bode jacket again,” he warns you holding up his pointing finger, shaking it at you, but you just chuckle at him, finishing up what you’ve been working on before shutting the laptop down.

“How long until you’re done?”

“Just a few more scenes. I think we can leave in about two hours.”

“Alright.”

“You done working?”

“Mhm, for now.”

“Come and watch the filming. You’re always so hidden in here.”

“Because I always have work to do,” you point out, putting the laptop to the side from your lap.

“Yeah, but you’re done now, so come out and watch me be the next Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smugly tells you, and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“You’re so humble, H. Is something that comes with the age?” you tease him standing up from the small sofa, grabbing your phone from the table.

“You’ll find out in a year,” he smirks back as you follow him out of the trailer, back to the set.

Later that day you, Florence and Harry are chilling back at your apartment, munching on the pizza you ordered, watching some documentary on Netflix, just enjoying a lazy evening. You’ve become quite close with Florence, her personality is a lot like yours so you got along well from the beginning, the three of you often do things together outside of set.

You and Harry are sharing the couch while Florence is curled up on the loveseat. The temperature at the apartment is always nice, but you often catch yourself feeling a little cold in the evening, but it has more to do with the tiredness rather than with the heating of the place. When you pull your legs underneath you to warm your feet, Harry notices the action and knows right away that you’re starting to feel cold as always. Reaching down he grabs a blanket from the basket next to the couch and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbles, draping the blanket over the two of you. You shuffle closer to him, making yourself comfortable at his side as he makes sure you’re fully tugged in. Then he leaves an arm around you, his fingers gently grazing your shoulder as he turns his attention back at the movie.

Glancing over at Florence you see the puzzled look on her, but you ignore it biting into your bottom lip, turning back to watch the movie though you’re having a hard time focusing. All you can think about is Harry’s touch on you.

It’s almost midnight when Florence calls herself a taxi. Harry picks up the glasses you used and volunteers to wash them, leaving you and Florence alone in the living room.

“So, what’s up with you and Harry?” she questions right away without beating around the bush.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you two has always been close, but now… it seems all too… couple-like.” She narrows her eyes at you, hands on her hips, looking like a mother questioning her daughter.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not,” she scoffs. Then you pretend to be busy with folding the blanket, but you can feel her intent stare on you before she speaks up again. “You like him, don’t you?”

“What?” you huff with a not too Oscar-worthy expression on your face that was supposed to hide the panic in you. “Well of course I like him, he is my friend and boss.”

“But not just like that. You like like him.”

“Florence,” you sigh, just when Harry walks out of the kitchen, oblivious to the conversation that he just interrupted.

“You sure you don’t want to spend the night?” he politely asks her, but she just shakes her head.

“I’m not really up for spending the night on the couch.”

“You wouldn’t have to, you can sleep in my bed,” he simply offers and something is telling you he shouldn’t open his mouth again.

“You’re not taking the couch because of me.”

“I wouldn’t, I usually sleep at Y/N’s,” he states as if it was nothing, but you instantly freeze.

Yes, ever since his birthday he has spent way more nights in your bed than in his own, always raving to you how well he can sleep when you’re next to him and you couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling lonely, so you’ve been letting him occupy half of your bed through the nights. He usually holds your hand falling asleep and then you wake up tangled together, sometimes he is cuddling you from behind, other times you’re the one curled up to his side. He treats it so casually, like it really is nothing, he just always goes on his day when you wake up so you decided to not make it into a big deal either.

Florence gives you a wide eyed look that you try hard to ignore, while Harry is so oblivious to what he just caused with his statement.

“I uhh—thanks but I’m fine going home. Besides, I think my car is already here. See you guys on set tomorrow. Y/N?” she calls out walking towards the front door.

“Hm?”

“We’ll talk later,” she tells you and it’s a strong message that she won’t just leave it at that.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you nod awkwardly, waving her goodbye.

You and Harry clean up together and as always, he is the first one to use the bathroom and by the time you’re done, he is in your bed, waiting for you to join him. You don’t comment on his presence anymore, part of you afraid he would stop spending the night in your bed and you definitely don’t want that. Not much is left from filming, meaning that soon you are forced to go home where you and Harry do not live at the same place so you’re gonna have to sleep alone, like you did before. Only now you are way too hooked on the feeling of having him in your bed, even if it’s not in the way you truly want, it’s better than nothing.

The moment you get under the sheets, Harry reaches out and pulls you to his side. He hasn’t done this often when you went to sleep, only sneaking some small touches, but you don’t mind him being a little extra clingy.

“Filming is almost over,” you mumble into his chest, your hand lazily resting where his ribcage ends in his chest.

“Mhm.” There’s a short silence before he speaks up again. “What about it, Angel?”

“It’s just that it’s going to be weird going home. I got used to living here.” It’s your way saying that you’re gonna miss having him around all the time, but you’re not sure if he understands the hint. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

“You like cramped together with me?” he chuckles lowly.

“Was kinda nice,” you smile.

“Remember how you threatened me to throw my shit out if I leave my dirty clothes on the floor?”

“I do,” you smirk, thinking back to the conversation where you agreed to live with him while he is filming. “Didn’t find any clothes on the floor, so you get an A for that.”

“Wow, was this… a compliment?”

“Shut up, I always compliment you!” you laugh smacking his chest gently.

“Oh, no. You don’t compliment, you just tell me when I managed not to fuck something up,” he corrects you and your cheeks are heating up about how well he knows you.

“Those are compliments in my book, don’t be greedy.”

“M’not. I love how grounded you keep me with treating me like this.”

“Like what?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows.

“Like a normal person. With you, I don’t have to be afraid that I earn something because of who I am. You give no shit about my name, you always keep me in check and I appreciate that.”

“Can’t let you have a too big of a head,” you smirk, closing your eyes. He laughs with you, squeezing you a little before you both fall into silence, drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

You’ve managed to avoid Florence in the past few days. Her burning look has been making you way too nervous, you know she wants to know more about what’s going on between you and Harry, but truth to be told, you have no idea what to tell her.

Yeah, I’m definitely in love with him and we’ve been sharing a bed for a few weeks because he feels lonely alone at night, so he uses me to ease the feeling while I just let him because as I said, I’m in love with the man.

No, you can’t tell her that.

Now there’s only two days left from filming, meaning that only two more nights to spend with Harry and it’s making you a nervous wreck to think about sleeping alone in your bedroom.

You round the corner in the maze of the trailers after a phone call you had with Jeff when you run out of luck and bump right into Florence.

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N. Come have lunch with me in my trailer,” she smiles sweetly, grabbing you by your hand so you can’t escape her this time.

“Oh I wanted to call—“

“Do it later,” she simply cuts you off.

Soon, you find yourself in her trailer as she eats her burger while she eyes you with suspicion.

“So, you and Harry sleep together?”

“Well, not like that. We really just sleep in the same bed.”

“Oh, makes perfect sense, sleeping in the same bed as your boss. Very casual.”

“Don’t make it sound so weird,” you frown at her words. You definitely don’t see Harry as your boss. You do work for him, but it never felt like he stands anywhere above you, the two of you have always been equal even before you became close friends.

“You gotta admit it’s pretty unusual,” she points out and you just look away from her. “So let’s talk about how you’re in love with him.”

“What? I never said that!” you protest, but she just gives you a look that says ‘cut the crap, girl’ and you know there’s no use to try to trick her, she sees right through you. “Don’t fucking look at me like that, I have enough shit on my plate without your judgment.”

“Oh, I’m not judging you. I’m just wondering why you two are not together already.”

You practically snort at her statement, finding it quite absurd and ridiculous.

“What? You two are perfect for each other and I’m pretty sure Harry loves you too.”

“Yeah, as a friend.”

“That’s not how friends act, Y/N. He wouldn’t beg himself into your bed every night if he was just your friend.”

“He is just lonely. He doesn’t need me, just someone to be with him.”

“That’s bullshit,” she scoffs. “You two are just being idiots.” Just as you are about to answer, your phone starts ringing. Harry’s smiley face appears on the screen, making you extremely nervous because of the conversation you are having with Florence.

“Hey,” you breathe out answering the call.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Just, talking with Florence. What’s up?”

“I got an email from Jeff and I have some questions.”

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Thank you Angel,” he hums before ending the call.

“I gotta go. Please don’t… bring any of this up for Harry,” you ask Florence, heading to the exit.

“You’ve gotta sort your shit out. This is not ideal, Y/N.”

“I know it,” you growl under your breath, leaving the trailer. You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you march back to Harry’s trailer. You feel so confused and anxious about this whole situation and the worst thing is that you have no idea what to do about it. Telling him how you feel seems like a stupid idea, but mostly because you’re terrified of rejection. What if it all meant nothing to him? If you were right and he is just lonely and uses you to help himself, it has nothing to do with you. You wouldn’t survive the heartbreak it would give you if he told you he doesn’t see you more than just a friend.

As you walk into his trailer he is sitting on the sofa with his phone in his hands. He glances up at you, a warm smile tugging on his lips as you take a deep breath, feeling very much out of place suddenly. Unfortunately, he immediately senses your discomfort.

“Everything alright, Angel?”

Angel. This nickname could make your knees go weak in a heartbeat and you hate how much effect it has on you. Especially in this state of mind you’re currently in.

“I just…” You shake your head shutting your eyes. “Why do you keep calling me that?” you ask, sounding way more desperate than you intended to. Harry puts his phone aside, looking a little puzzled at your sudden weird act, but he seems more worried for you.

“I, uhh—“

“And don’t tell me it’s because Hey Angel is about me. We didn’t know each other back then.”

You have no idea where this is coming from or why you even questioned him about it all of a sudden, but Florence just totally threw you off with what she just said. Harry stares back at you, probably vigorously looking for the reason why you are acting up now, but luckily, he doesn’t try to turn it into a joke as always.

“I call you Angel, because you remind me of the song. It wasn’t written about you, but the lyrics match up with… you.”

“What?” you ask in confusion.

“I wish I could be more like you, do you wish you could be more like me?” he quotes the song, not singing the words, simply just talking them as he stares back at you. “I see you at the bar, at the edge of my bed, backseat of my car, in the back of my head,” he continues and you feel your throat doing dry just from the way he softly speaks, standing only a few feet away from you. “I come alive when I hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound, it’s a beautiful noise.”

You never really gave it another thought, but now that he has told you this, it hit you hard in the chest. You weren’t expecting, especially because those lines are rather meaningful, to you at least.

“I thought of it once not long after we first met and thought calling you Angel would suit you. Do you mind it? I can just… stop calling you that if you don’t like it.”

You shake your head. You never want him to stop calling you that even if it’s not that meaningful for him. If it’s just some game. It’s great to know that something reminded him of you.

“No, it’s… it’s alright.” Your voice is small, barely more than just a whisper. It’s a little too much at once. Florence’s words are still stuck in your head, and what he just said has felt like he just gripped your heart even if he doesn’t know.

You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to come back from this hazy state of mind.

“So, what about that email?”

“You alright?” Reaching forward he takes your hand and you try not to flinch at his touch, just smile at him nodding.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He squeezes your hand before dropping it and he luckily doesn’t ask any more questions.

You stay oddly quiet for the rest of the day and Harry surely knows something is wrong, but he respects you enough not to bug you about it any longer. He just stays close to you as much as he can, trying his best to take your mind off of whatever keeps you occupied.

On the way home you and Harry drop by a supermarket, buy some quick dinner, not wanting to stack the fridge when you’re leaving so soon. Then you sit in the living room, eating and watching some random movie that’s on TV. You snuggle to his side on the couch naturally, he doesn’t even have to pull you close this time. The thought of having left only one more night in the apartment makes you want to sue every little moment you have left in this bubble.

Harry makes you have a shower first tonight and when you come out from the bathroom, your bed is already nicely made, inviting you warmly. He is quick to finish with his shower and joins you in bed barely five minutes later. You move towards each other instantly, his arms curling around your form soothingly as you make yourself comfortable, melted into his embrace. You feel his lips pressing against your forehead and you almost start crying at the small action.

“Angel, I don’t know what has upset you, but I’m here for you, alright? You’re not alone,” he murmurs softly.

“I know,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I would do anything for you, just like you do so much for me. You’ve got me.”

I wish, you think to yourself. You have him, but not the way you’ve been desiring. His hand moves to cup your face as he lifts your head so you are looking into his eyes in the darkened room, but there’s enough light coming through the window that you see his features. He runs his thumb across your cheek, gently caressing your skin and everywhere he touches you, it feels like your body is in flames. This something has been building up inside you and now you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to control yourself. And just as you think about how you really should put some distance between the two of you so you won’t regret it later, the unexpected happens.

Harry pulls you up just enough so when he moves his head he is able to place his lips on yours, kissing you out of the blue. His lips feel so soft, so fitting on your mouth, you let out a whimper when he goes further than just a gentle kiss, taking your bottom lip between his properly. It’s an out of world experience, you’ve imagined it so many times, but you never thought it would actually happen and now that it is very much happening, your whole mind goes blank and for a split second… everything feels right. You kiss him back with fever and with each passing moment the kiss grows more passionate and way hungrier than how it started. Harry’s arm tightens around you, almost pulling you on top of him and you can’t make yourself stop, not that you want to.

With a little force, Harry pushes the two of you around so now you’re lying on the mattress and he holds himself up above you, his lips never disconnecting from yours. He licks into your mouth, pulling and tugging on your lips, making your whole body go weak just for him.

But then, as if reality hit you in the head, you realize what’s happening.

“Harry,” you gasp pulling back, gasping for air. “This—We…”

“Angel, let me take care of you. Please,” he begs out of breath.

“What…”

“I want to make you feel good. I want to take care of you, please let me.” He sounds so desperate, like he would do anything for this and you are not strong enough to deny it from him.

It’s just his pity. He’s been using you for his needs, now he wants to give some back, it’s nothing more, you think to yourself. It can’t be more.

You lack the willpower to make a rational decision, so as you stare up into his eyes that appear so dark due to the lack of proper lighting, you just nod before he leans down and kisses you again.

He holds himself up on one arm while his free hand wanders down your body, touching you at places you have never felt him before. He palms your left breast, squeezing it gently and it makes you moan into his mouth before his hand moves down the curve of your waist until it reaches your sleeping shorts. Your body is burning for him and you can’t stop it from reacting to everything he does. You buckle your hips up when you feel his fingers gently graze along your pubic bone, even though you’re still fully clothed.

“What do you want me to do, Angel? I’ll do anything you want me to,” he pants between kisses as his hand moves to cup your heated core, making you moan again from the sensation of his touch there.

“I need you,” is all you manage to get out.

“I’m right here. You got me. What do you want me to do? Please, tell me, Angel,” he whines, forehead pressed against yours and his hips fall, pressing against your thigh, making you realize how excited he has gotten. His erection is hard under the fabric of his boxers, almost aching to be freed. There’s no way you can take any teasing or a long foreplay. You need him inside you now before you burst.

“Harry, I need you inside me. Please,” you whimper, almost cry, before he kisses you again, hard and demanding as he simply pushes your shorts down, revealing your naked sex since you don’t wear any underwear to bed. You grab the waistband of his boxers too and push it down until he can wiggle his legs out of them, leaving him completely naked in your bed while you still have a top covering your upper body, however he is quick to change that. He grabs the hem and starts pulling it off, your hands helping him so a few moments later you’re completely naked underneath him.

“Fuck, Angel,” he breathes out, his perfect, pink lips attacking the side of your throat, kissing and nibbling on the skin, going down to your breasts, giving the same amount of attention to both while you turn into jelly under his touch. lacing your fingers through his hair you cry out his name as you can feel him leaving a mark on your left breast, his tongue swirling against the spot he just completely destroyed before he brings himself back up so he can kiss you again and again with so much hunger, it’s hard to tell where you end and where he starts. Everything melts together and you’re such a mess in every possible way.

His hand gently reaches down between your legs and parts your shaking thighs before he cups you drenched pussy, his middle finger sliding between your folds, a shameless moan slipping from your mouth, right into his as your lips are still attached.

“So wet, I can’t wait to make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“Harry, just… please,” you pant, surely feeling yourself lose the last bits of your nerves.

“D’you have a condom?” he asks, head lifting up a bit so he can look into your eyes.

“I-In my, um, the makeup bag,” you try to explain gesturing towards your dresser where your makeup bag sits on top, two condoms somewhere inside it. Harry pecks your lips before pulling away from you, the lack of his weight on top of you making you shiver.

He digs into the bag until he finds what he’s been looking for, tearing the packaging open with his teeth and he rolls it on while he walks back, not wasting another moment. You cling onto him like a koala bear once he is back in bed, his massive body covering you again.

“Just tell me how you like it, I’ll do anything,” he mumbles against your shivering lips as he pushes the head in first, stopping for a second before the rest of his cock buries inside you, completely taking your breath away. He is bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, filling up every inch of you, your walls stretching around him as he stills once he is all the way inside you.

This is it. This is the moment you’ve imagined oh so many times, feeling him the closest possible, his cock buried inside you, his cheek pressed against yours as he holds himself up on top of you. Years of yearning and endless nights when you imagined your hand was his… and now it’s your reality. And though you know it’s gonna change everything, you can’t tell yourself to stop.

Harry lifts his head, pecking your lips gently, calling you Angel over and over again as he starts moving, the friction between your legs growing with each thrust. He fits inside you so well, you won’t be able to enjoy sex with anyone else now that you’ve experienced it with Harry. All of a sudden, he has become the epitome of your whole life.

“Tell me what you want, Angel. Do you want me to go slow or fast? Tell me how to make you feel good.” His lips brush against yours with each word while you’re just trying to catch your breath, fingers digging into his back, the euphoria building up inside you gradually.

“A little faster,” you breathe out, speaking feels like a hard task at the moment. Harry picks his pace up, finding just the right rhythm that makes you wrap your legs around his waist so he can go even deeper with each thrust he makes.

“Look at me, Angel. Let me see your eyes,” he begs, his hand cupping your cheek. He runs his thumb along the line of your lower lip before he takes it between his lips, tugging on it gently, kissing you like you’re his last breath on Earth. He is devouring you, body melts together with yours, all your senses are strictly focused on him. He is all you see, hear, feel and taste.

Your gaze meets his and the way he looks at you, like you’re his whole entire world, it makes your eyes tear up. You want it to be true, you want it to be reality, you want it to be more than just about needs and satisfaction, but it’s not and your consciousness is not letting you believe otherwise.

“Oh Angel,” he softly hums, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye and ran down the side of your face. Keeping up his rhythm he kisses along your jawline, your cheek, your lips, the side of your face, the bridge of your nose, everywhere he can before returning to your lips with a hungry, passion filled kiss.

“Harry…” you whimper, holding your thighs tighter around his waist as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

“Let it go for me, Angel. I wanna see you feel good, cum for me,” he tells you, eyes never leaving yours as you are ready to burst underneath him.

“Harry, I-I need you!” The words fall from your lips as a desperate beg, arms wrapping around his torso tight, as if he could disappear from your embrace any moment.

“I’m right here, Angel. Right here,” he soothes you, kissing your lips sweetly as proof that he is not just a trick your mind is playing on you. “Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Yes!” you pant, losing control over your body and all your senses. It’s gonna be intense, you can tell and it hasn’t even started yet, you just know it’ll shake you to the core.

“Good girl. Let me make you feel good.” “So good,” you breathe out before Harry occupies your lips with his once again.

It doesn’t take long. He keeps thrusting in the perfect angle and it throws you right over the edge. Harry demands you look him in the eyes when your orgasm wash you over and the intensity of it all almost makes you cry again. You burst, lose yourself under him, screaming his name as if you were praying to all higher forces. In a way, you are, because for a moment you really think you completely vanish from this world.

Harry follows you just a few more thrusts later, falling out of his rhythm as he grunts and moans your name, face buried into the crook of your neck while you tug on his hair, the feeling of his soft locks between your fingers is like pure heaven.

He stills, but stays inside you as he looks up, his eyes filled with satisfaction and contentment as he cups your face again, kissing you long, taking his time with you.

As you come off your high and the clouds of euphoria clears off, reality sets in more painfully than ever. Your limbs are paralyzed and you feel like you are outside your own body, just watching everything happen as if you were a third person in the room. Harry rolls to the side, chest heaving wildly as he is trying to regulate himself. Once he is able to breathe without panting, he pecks your shoulder gently and makes a quick round to the bathroom. You hear water running and then his feet padding on the floor, but you can’t bring yourself to move, you just lie there, completely drained out. It doesn’t change even when Harry gently cleans you off with a damp washing cloth, throwing it to the side to take care of it in the morning. He pulls the covers over the two of you and scoops you into his arms. You manage to bring your arm up to his chest as your head rests on his shoulder. His fingers are dancing up and down your arm, his steady breathing keeping your overcrowded head grounded. And then… he starts singing so softly, it’s almost just a whisper.

“Hey Angel, oh, I wish I could be more like you. Do you wish you could be more like me?”

Your eyes shut close, the damn tears flooding again, but you keep your sobs drowned in your throat. Instead you force yourself to sleep and hope you live to see the morning, because you feel like your heart is about to give up on you.

When you wake up, you genuinely feel like you’ve drunk through last night and now have the worst hangover. It’s like you’ve been hit on the head with a chair. You slowly come to your senses and realize that you’re completely naked in bed and there’s a body curled to your side, equally naked.

The shock sets in first because you realize, once again, that what happened last night wasn’t just a fever dream, it actually happened. And then you basically jump out of bed when you look at the small digital clock on the bedside and see that the two of you have ten minutes to leave if you don’t want to be late to the last day of filming.

“Harry! Harry get up!” you smack him, kicking the covers off and grabbing your top and shorts from the floor, quickly putting them on. The man in talk growls, just rolling to his back without even opening his eyes. “Harry damn it! We have ten minutes or you’ll be late!” you snap at him and it somewhat wakes him up. With furrowed eyebrows at puckered lips, he lifts his head up and looks around.

Those lips were kissing you last night.

“What?” he mumbles in confusion.

“We overslept, get up. We have… eight minutes left.”

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, finally getting out of bed, reaching for his boxers.

It’s a shitshow as the two of you try to get ready on time and though you are running just a few minutes late, the driver of the taxi manages to speed down the streets fast enough that you arrive to set just in time.

During the whole ride, you feel Harry’s burning eyes on you, but thank God, you get a call from Jeffrey the moment you get into the car and it lasts the whole ride so you don’t have to talk with him about what happened last night.

“Y/N,” he tries when you’re still on the phone and he is already done with hair and makeup, heading to set to start filming.

“What?” you mouth at him.

“Can we talk later?”

“I’m busy. Go, I’m sure they are waiting for you,” you whisper to him and he looks so disappointed, but he nods and walks away. Your heart breaks as you lower the phone. You have been out of the call for some time, just didn’t want to talk to him.

Quite frankly, you’re not ready to talk to him about what happened last night. You don’t want to hear him say that he was just trying to help you out last night, that it wasn’t anything serious, just some messing around. It was just two people trying not to feel lonely.

Walking back into his trailer you can feel your chest tightening, a sharp pain shooting right into your heart the more you think about him. It was a mistake, you shouldn’t have done it because you are the one with the feelings and now you are the one struggling with the consequences of your little get together.

The more you think about it, the worse it gets and you feel like you’re about to suffocate. You need to get out of here, there’s no way you can face him now.

It all happens so fast. Before you can even second guess your decision, you’re on your way back to the apartment to pack all your stuff and get on the first flight back home. You need to put distance between you and him, spending one more night in the same apartment would make you go nuts. So while Harry is filming, completely oblivious to what you’re doing, you pack up your room as fast as possible and head to the airport to hop on the plane that leaves at four pm.

With a racing heart you check all your baggage in and make it through security when Harry first calls you. At first, you want to ignore it, but then you find yourself swiping your thumb across the screen.

“Hey,” you shortly greet him.

“Hey, where are you? Have been looking for you everywhere.” “I um… I’m at the airport,” you answer and the silence on the other end is deafening for a moment.

“You are at the what?” he then snaps.

“I had a, um, kind of emergency, so I’m heading back home now. Sorry, I would have called you, but didn’t know when you’d be off set.”

“You fucking packed and left already? You’re really at the airport?” He is fuming, Raging. You can tell he is pacing in the trailer, vigorously running his fingers through his hair, ruining it without a care. You almost feel guilty, but then again, you just know facing him now would break you. You’ll get back to him when you’ve pulled your shit together.

“I am, calm down, alright? Not a big deal.” “You just left on our last day here without a fucking word! And when am I seeing you again?”

“I, uhh—I need to be home for a while, but you’ll be fine. I’ll stay in touch with you in email and text.”

“Fucking text? Email?” he is barking now. Good thing you are not there because it would be a disaster. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. We-we were supposed to talk. You can’t just fucking disappear like this.”

“We’ll talk, alright?”

“When?”

“Later,” you simply tell him at a loss for a better answer. Hopefully, never, you think to yourself, but don’t say it out loud.

“Okay, you’re not doing this. Don’t you dare get on a plane, I’m going to the airport right now. You’re not leaving.”

“Well, I am and you’re not coming here,” you clap back, but you can already hear him moving around, probably gathering his stuff so he can leave right away.

“Swear to God if you get on that plane, I’m—“ He cuts himself off, no idea what to really say and you just sigh, closing your eyes. People rush by you and as you glance at the big screen you see that your plane is boarding.

“Harry, just… it’ll be better like this, alright? You’ll be fine, I’ll see you… when I see you. Have fun on your last day on set.”

You end the call before he could get another word out and put it on airplane mode right away as you grab your backpack and head to your gate.

Using your time on the plane wisely, you put together a very detailed schedule for Harry so he knows everything about his next few weeks and you can minimize your contact with him. You even set up a bunch of reminders in his calendar so he won’t miss his appointments.

When you set feet on the ground again, you expect the distance between you and Harry to feel comforting and freeing, but it’s the opposite. An ache in your chest is getting heavier as you get yourself a taxi and head home, feeling more alone than ever in your life.

Your home doesn’t feel like a home. Not without that one person who could make any place your home, but you can’t see him right now, not until you learn how to exist around him without the urge to faint.

Going to bed alone is pure torture. Every moment you are waiting to hear Harry shuffling around in the apartment, you miss his little snorts when he is watching the TV, his singing coming from the shower, but most importantly, you miss having him so close to you in bed. Now that you’re lying on your own, your bed feels so cold, it brings you tears as reality sets in. You miss him. You miss him more than anything and you can’t imagine a time when it won’t hurt anymore.

The crying pushes you into a shallow slumber sometime in the middle of the night, however, you’re rudely shaken back to consciousness when you hear someone banging on your door like crazy, pushing the doorbell constantly.

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble with a grimace, pulling a hoodie on as you make your way to the door hazily, probably still half asleep because you open the door without checking who it is through the peephole and you end up staring up at none other than Harry. “What the—What are you doing here?” you breathe out, panic sets in fast and your hands start shaking at the sight of him.

Harry steps inside without invitation and closes the door behind him, a stern expression on his handsome face.

“Y/N, what the fuck were you thinking when you left like that?”

“I-I told you, it was an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency? Because I called your mom and sisters, they all said nothing happened in the family, so what could possibly happen that needed you here immediately?”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.” Shaking your head you try to step back to put some distance between the two of you, but he doesn’t let you, taking a step forward at the same time.

“Well I think we have a lot to talk about after last night, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to talk,” you shake your head biting into your bottom lip. This wasn’t supposed to happen, why couldn’t he just stay where he was? “How did you even get here so fast?”

“Left as soon as we wrapped.”

“Where are all your stuff?”

“Left everything there, I’ll just go back and pack it up, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that for a girl who genuinely hates any form of working out, you ran pretty fast from you today.”

Any other day you would have laughed at his comparison, but not today. You just stand there, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you try to figure out what to do or say. You were not ready to face him so soon.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask desperately, throwing your hands into the air.

“Tell me what it meant for you,” he calmly answers and you want to shake him. How is he so peaceful?

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m not doing this to myself, okay? I need time, Harry.”

“For what?”

“So I can get myself over this, alright? I need time, I—fuck this,” you growl, feeling the tears flooding your eyes again. Damn it!

“Why the fuck do you want to get yourself over it?”

“Because it obviously didn’t mean the same thing to me as it meant to you!” you snap at him and he raises his eyebrows at you in a way that tells you “you’re stupid”.

“What do you think it meant to me?”

“Probably nothing,” you scoff rolling your eyes, but the anger that bursts from him quickly washes your attitude away.

“Fucking nothing? You think I would get on a fucking plane first thing after filming for ten hours straight just to come after you? You think I spent all my nights with you these past weeks because you mean nothing to me? You know, for a smart girl, you can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

You blink at him in utter confusion, his words knocked you off your feet. He exhales sharply, long fingers running through his messy curls as he tries his best to calm himself down. When he is finally breathing somewhat normally his wildly vibrant green eyes meet your widened stare.

“Y/N, I thought we were on the same page. What did you think it was all about?” he softly asks, seeing how shook you still are.

“I, uhh—I thought this was all just some kind of distraction. You said you were feeling lonely, I thought you were just… kind of using me. And then last night was you returning the favor.”

“Hell no,” he breathes out shaking his head as he steps closer and this time you don’t back away from him. You let his hands run down your arms until they find your hands. “I thought this was clear, but I’m gonna say it then. I’m in love with you, Y/N, have been for a long time, I was just being a pussy and didn’t know how you’d take it. But then, when you didn’t kick me out of your bed the first night we slept together, it got me hoping and it was all heading just the right direction. Then last night happened and I was so damn sure this would be our turning point but then…” He breathes out shakily again, as if the thought still upsets him. “When I called you and you said you were at the airport… I love you, Angel, but I was ready to murder you.”

You let out a faint chuckle, feeling the tears bubbling in your eyes.

“Why did you run away instead of talking to me? Did you not trust me?” he asks softly, a hand coming up to cup your jaw gently.

“I didn’t trust myself,” you admit weakly.

“Oh Angel…” Leaning down he kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips feel like soft feathers against your hot skin. “Do you need me to tell you again how in love I am with you or are you gonna believe me? You’re not planning to run away again, are you?” he teases you making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“I’m not gonna run away, but I would love to hear you say you love me again.”

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Angel, don’t you ever think otherwise for a moment, okay?”

You nod, lips curling into your mouth as your teary eyes meet his green orbs.

“I love you too, Harry.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he chuckles breathing out in relief and it makes you smile. “I would never just use you. Love you way too much for that, Angel. You are everything to me.”

“Wish I knew that earlier,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. It would have saved you a lot of tears.

“I will never stop saying it to you.” His forehead rests against yours, noses touching as his arms curl around your frame, pulling you close to him until you’re pressed up against his hard chest. “Just out of curiosity, what were you thinking when I told you, you reminded me of Hey Angel? Because I think it pretty much gave me away, but apparently, I was wrong,�� he chuckles lowly, pulling back a little so he can look you in the eyes.

“I honestly have no idea,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. “I just had a conversation with Florence before that where she called me out about my feelings for you and I was still kind of in shock. Probably took it as just your usual flirty behavior.”

“I’ll admit I do flirt some, but haven’t you realized it’s different with you?”

“I guess not.” “Angel, you are… something else,” he chuckles in disbelief before leaning down he finally presses his lips against yours. You giggle into his lips, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you up from the ground, twirling you around, a squeal slipping from your mouth.

“So, now you have to go back to pack your stuff?” you question, still wrapped into his arms completely and you don’t want to exist any other way. This is where you belong.

“Yeah. Had to chase down this Angel who thought she could run away from me.”

“So how are you planning to get to New York by four tomorrow when you’re still here and have to go back to pack? Have you checked the schedule I sent you? You’re not gonna make it.” You cock your head to the side with an arched brow.

“Did you just go back to full assistant mode right after we confessed our love for each other?”

“Someone has to be responsible and we both know it’s always me.”

“I’ll just hire someone to do it for me, I’ll leave to New York from here. Happy?” he grins at you as you nod.

“Very. Because this means you can stay the night here.”

“Seeing the fact that I literally have nowhere else to go, because even my house keys are in the suitcase I left back… I very much need to stay here for the night,” he points out.

“Good. Come on, my bed felt empty without you,” you giggle, pulling him towards your bedroom and he follows you eagerly.

“I can definitely help that.”

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles x pa!reader #harry styles x personalassistant!reader

2K notes · View notes