#i’m sick of living like this like truly it has been the last whole fucking year and it just keeps getting worse
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medical websites love to be like “how to stop having physical stress symptoms: 1. be in less stressful situations 2. don’t be stressed”
#oliver.mp3#girl for one i have anxiety for two stressful things continue to happen#sorry but taking deep breaths and going for walks will not fix my moms broken leg or get me another job#or get me back the $6000 i just spent on my cat’s er vet bill#meditation doesn’t pay the rent#i still haven’t done anything creative since the year started pretty much#bc i feel like i shouldn’t be focusing on anything but how to fix my situation#time spent drawing is time i could be spending applying for jobs. why would i spend time writing when it’s not making me money#i’m sick of living like this like truly it has been the last whole fucking year and it just keeps getting worse#what did i do to deserve this like truly why me#why do these events feel so specifically calculated and timed to drain our bank accounts and stress me out further#i think abt that phrase it has to get worse before it gets better. so every time something happens i’m like ok it’s gonna get better now#but somehow it continues to get worse#i feel like i’m watching my entire life crumble away right before my eyes everything me and my mom have worked for is just dwindling#and i’m only fucking 20
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LO RANT/VAGUE SPOILER:
I’m going to be unapologetically posting these rants because I’m absolutely fucking fuming. This entire Demeter situation is absolutely dog shit and it’s getting on my nerves, I’m not understanding how everyone is getting on Demeter for being so manipulative and such when HADES IS THE EXACT SAME. I’m so sick of this I feel like every few rants I say the exact same thing even though dozens of people still do this bullshit.
I’m upset and I’m mad because Demeter was never manipulative and evil like this, if you guys don’t get that this is basic character assassination then it’s fine but it is. Demeter was always proud of Persephone, after the whole 10 year reunion she literally said how proud she was of Persephone because she managed to keep the land up and running for the last ten years while she was gone. She didn’t even take up the conversation or make it about her, she just showed earnest pride in her daughters work. UNLIKE HADES, we have whole fucking chapters dedicated to Hades making everything about himself yet everyone is fine with him doing that?? It makes no fucking sense. Hades disregards Persephone’s feelings time and time again, he makes every single conversation about himself, how he empathizes with others has to do with himself, his trauma is the only one validated, he’s the only one who can get away with being an absolute shitty parent and a terrible person and he’s the only one who can manipulate others without consequence. Do you guys not see how absolutely insane it is to hate Demeter and not Hades? Is it not strange to you how every single time this man speaks it’s always about himself or Persephone and even when speaking about Persephone it’s always pertaining to things she can do for him.
I can go on and on how the fans’ outrage towards this whole Demeter thing is crazy! They say that Demeter doesn’t respect Persephone well guess what, I have a funny story for you. Hades doesn’t either, he literally only wants her to be his wife and have his kids. He’s never once imagined her in a position of power nor has he ever been completely supportive with her way of doing things. There’s always a weird condescending nature with him when he’s interacting with Persephone and it’s crazy how no one else picks it up with those two. He literally only likes her cause of her physical looks and because she’s nice enough to tolerate. There’s never been a time where he truly showed actual respect to Persephone, he doesn’t do anything respectful towards her except for the bare minimum which is what it’s called. Bare.
Then people say that she’s wrong for saying she isn’t ready to run a kingdom. I want to let you in on a little secret.. Persephone hasn’t been doing shit ever since she made Tartarus defeat Kronos and even when she once again got someone else to get their hands dirty for her guess what? He’s back so she didn’t even do shit. Like come on, you couldn’t even finish the job with Kronos??? And that’s what we’re supposed to respect her for?? All powerful, all knowing, all beauty, all brains fertility goddess Persephone couldn’t defeat big bad Kronos that she was able to take down in five panels? You’re absolutely kidding me!! Persephone is so powerful it’s amazing that she didn’t take him down!!! Anyways, let’s get real. Persephone hasn’t even made any comments on what she wants to do as queen, she doesn’t know anything about the underworld still and she doesn’t even want to know by the looks of it. She doesn’t act like someone who’s accepted their job or responsibility she looks like she just got access to Hades’ wallet and is now going to live her life like nothing happened… Oh wait. That’s exactly what she’s doing.
Also, can we please stop ignoring the multiple critics talking about Hades’ obsession with courting Persephone and having a family with her all without her knowing?? Like I hate that this huge monumental issue in their relationship is being treated all cute and such. This is exactly what happened to Minthe people, and you all hated her because of how she responded to it yet you’re all fine with Hades considering doing the same to yet another woman that he love bombed into a relationship with. Speaking of Minthe, I think it’s pretty sick how no one allowed her to actually validate her emotions. Believe it or not Hades was planning on proposing to her in front of everyone who hated her, everyone who disrespected her, everyone who looked down on her, everyone who felt as if she were inferior and undeserving of the relationship as a whole. Imagine how that would feel for you, and why would you ever want to be with a man who cares so little about you, Hades is so tied up in his fantasy that once the perfect wife comes along his problems will all be solved. Why is everyone okay with him doing this to others?
Speaking of using women as literal wish fulfillments, this feminist story has to be a spit in the face to those it tells us it represents. Why is it that everyone is okay with Hades using these women to fit into his image and the way he wants the relationship to be without even trying to understand their desires or needs? Why are we so comfortable watching him force his wishes on these women? Is it because he’s not being violent that we look the other way, is it because he begs instead of demands things that makes this okay? Is it because of his constant useless awareness of him trying to stop himself from being a borderline creep that we’re fine with his unsettling behavior? If anything this comic should’ve taught everyone that violence against anyone doesn’t always have to be physical, what Hades is doing is damaging and he’s not just doing it to one person he’s doing it to multiple people without consequence.
I hate to say it but the way he has so many similarities with Apollo is very disturbing. I know a lot of LO fans will try and deny however many times they can but it’s the truth, he’s just like him really. They’re behaviors, the way they approach people, and genuinely how they react and speak to others are similar which is very very disturbing. It’s something that should’ve been discussed within the fandom instead of Demeter wanting her daughter far away from someone like that.
Anyways, I’m going to be defending Demeter and any other character who dislikes Hades for good reasons with my life because they’re the only ones who actually make sense.
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Quick Daphne Mythix concept I came up with a few days ago + quick work sketches
The Great Dragon itself, specifically war and wrath
Decided to make her gem purple in the end to signify her no longer holding a barrier between herself and The Flame, which although by the time of her death there hadn’t been one of separation technically as she was the full blown Holder, she always held a great respect for the decorum and structure of ruling towards her parents, specifically her mother (the previous Holder), and was so proud of her title as heir that she greatly enjoyed keeping her blue gemmed ornament. In this transformation though, she would be pissed and tired and selfish and full of rage and sick of it, so,, yeah lol. She’s basically saying “fuck it, I should’ve taken advantage of what I could’ve when I had everything. It was mine after all.”
Alrighty! So!! Referred to this as the Daphne’s Fucking Pissed transformation when talking to @maea-megs
I feel like this would be during her “I’m pissed im alive again and I just want to hurt someone” phase since Mythix came later and this would be the closest she has to her old power
She doesn’t want to be alive again because she doesn’t want to deal with everything. She’s tired and she’s angry and Bloom can’t do what she could. She can’t wield The Flame like Daphne could, can’t conjure great power like it’s nothing, like its as easy as breathing, like it’s what she was made to do (she wasn’t, after all. She wasn’t the first born. She was barely even born at all when Domino fell. She was a desperate last attempt, Daphne tells herself with spite and venom).
Bloom is gracious and merciful, but Daphne finds that hilarious. Bloom has no need to be merciful because she can do nothing that would make anyone ask for it. Daphne though? Daphne could’ve destroyed worlds if she wanted to, whole planets and civilizations. She could’ve gone to war and been the only soldier and she would’ve won.
She had done things that some could consider drastic less times than could be counted on one hand with The Flame in her time before The Fall, but it was in the name of balance and order for all who were involved as a last attempt after all other options had been exhausted, and even then she had exercised such great restraint. She had always exercised restraint. She knew what would happen if she didn’t because she was that good, but maybe that was a mistake. She never truly allowed herself to indulge in anything now that she’s had time to ruminate, to really think back on everything. Almost everything she did she wanted to do, yes, (at least she thinks so. She’s still not sure the more time she’s had to think about it, but that’s a discussion for a later date she thinks) but what about the things she hadn’t done?
She knew their history, she would be a fool not to (Bloom didn’t know. She didn’t really know anything though, still so new to magic itself). There was a reason the words Ash Bringers, Fire Devils, and Daemons among other terms full of disgust and fear were seethed by some still even over 1000 years after Domino’s demise. Sacking and raiding was what they had been good at, their planet and it’s power given to them specifically, no one else. Surely that meant assimilation was what was needed, for who could live in such a way that was equal to them if they hadn’t been blessed with such divine light? Where was there that could not be made better if Dominions were to bless it with their knowledge and power? If that had to be done by force, then so be it. And if that force was not enough? Then they were not going to be adding anything of worth to The Magical World as is, so it would be better if they returned to The Great Dragon. Their energy could be breathed into new beings who weren’t stupid enough to thing resistance would work or be worth it. The Great Dragon gave life, and logically, that meant it should be the one to end it too, and end it, it would.
It is a shameful part of their past, a large part of it too. Only in more recent generations had Dominions finally begun to look upon it properly, with a critical and damning eye that called for condemnation and reparations. Daphne agreed, of course. It was wrong what they had done, and that was why she was so aware of how careful she had to be. She knew the blood that had been spilled so easily and so carelessly with The Power she was blessed to hold, how many cultures had been subjected to what was called Divine Wrath by oppressors who thought they had the right to control anything and anyone just because they could and that it was just because it was in the name of their god.
It was a power that left fields black and lifeless, permanently so, nothing able to grow ever again no matter how much time passed. It was a magic that called forth the stench of acrid flesh and bone dust and rocks stained black for all of eternity if The Holder wanted it to do so.
She knew how it felt, to have it thrumming and vibrating through her whole being, properly integrated into her core, acting as an extension of her own life force, the smallest misstep being the last barrier between her surroundings continuing to live and breath as they are or be decimated in an instant, no proof of anything having ever existed there at all. Just another random dead rock that one would pass by later that same day and assume it nothing more than a long deceased moon (if there was enough rubble left held together for it to even be called that, for it to be identified as anything at all).
She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about what it would feel like to feel that power as her ancestors once had, not in the name of imperialism and genocide like they had, but just to see what it was like. She would never let those thoughts linger for too long though. It was nothing more than an intrusive thought, a dangerous “what if”, perhaps influenced by the ghosts of those very ancestors who haunted their lineage and position in The Magical Realm all the way up to present day. But now, now Daphne didn’t have The Flame. She remembers though (she thinks she does anyway. She knows at least that she remembers more than what she has now). Most likely, this is the closest she’ll ever get to what she once had. And she had been so good before, what harm could come that she couldn’t fix if she just let herself be submerged just once in the closest thing she’ll ever get to her old abilities?
She would finally let go of all restraint she ever had and finally indulge in letting the power that has the ability to decimate worlds and cultures with a simple flick of the wrist do it’s thing.
So, basically:
Daphne, floating in a void of empty dead space, dissociative as hell: 🔥🔥🔥🔥👁️👄👁️🔥🔥🔥🔥
Everyone else: ….is she good????
Bloom: I think she just needs alone time:)
#winx club#winx#mythix#transformation#transformations#daphne winx club#winx daphne#daphne winx#winx club redesign#winx club redo#winx club rewrite#lore#worldbuilding#winx club reboot
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okokokok ethics town finale!! it was fine i’m so fine coolcool (lying through my teeth screaming shouting shaking violently)
spoilers under cut
OK FIRST OFF, RHY AND LIZ’S PERFORMANCE,, THE EMOTION THEY PUT INTO THE CHARACTERS MAKES IT SO MUCH MORE REAL
god normally i’m not big on fourth wall breaking because in most cases for me it just isn’t done well,, BUT HELL, IT WAS DONE SO WELL JUST,, OUGH
this is assuming ian is right but i think he is
ok so the broadcasts were for him to project out his self hatred?? kinda?? because he was so genuinely upset at everything in them as well as all the other stuff he talked about this ep
him trying get help and just being told to lose weight,, fuck it’s painfully realistic he’s so special to me
AND “if i’m not this, i’m nothing. and i tried to be nothing, trust me i tried, i tried so hard, but i was too scared.” SOBS. SCREAMS. EXPLODES.
the way he kept switching to his january voice whenever he got really distressed or it was the real him coming through,, grabbing him like a squeaky toy,, i care him so much
i know i know he’s a murderer but i just wanna give him a hug,, god, my man is NOT well in any form
he’s evil BUT he’s evil because he KNOWS he can’t be anything else,, “i’m not a person, i’m a construct. i prove a point, the same point, over and over” GAJAJHSHS
i’m so normal about characters with no control over their own lives and the concept of free will vs manipulation/fate in fiction (lying)
AND ARTEMIS,, hugging her tightly
god she has suffered so so much and she still isn’t at a point of accepting she isn’t real, well she is but she’s also not, she’s rightfully angry and hurting and grieving and hell i want to wrap her in a blanket and keep her safe
they have both lost everything and will CONTINUE to because their whole existence is just a sick lesson on morality and they will continue to suffer over and over and over, it cost ian his daughter, and it will continue to cost the both of them
“i don’t like this story. i don’t like it don’t like it, please make it stop. i don’t- i want a different one. please.” IT WOULD OF BEEN BETTER TO HIT ME WITH A BAT. WHAT THE FUCK. HSKSJSJ
i just have one of my favourite parts screen recorded so i can fire it at myself like a tranquilliser dart,, just, man
want to make an animatic of that part so bad
onto actual theories on what the fuck is going on though, based on how some of the speakers in the transcript are called students maybe the town is the result of these people debating and testing ethical conundrums, even if they don’t know they’ve created it, if it’s subconscious or something
alternatively louis is the big evil bad who is doing this to torture us /j
but genuinely well done to all of the people who work on this podcast you all have created something TRULY amazing and the love and passion for it SHOWS
ethics town has DESTROYED me and i mean that in the best way possible
every episode has left me more distraught than the last i love everything about it
the writing the characters the sound design the voice acting everything
i CANNOT wait until s2
#i am again demanding you listen to ethics town#it will ruin you 10/10 would recommend#cw fatphobia#cw implied suicidal ideation#cw unreality#cw child death#<- briefly mentioned as they occurred in the actual episode#ethics town#ethics town spoilers#ethics town the identity issue#avery rambles
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One of the hardest things I’ve come to realize is that why I’m so unhappy is that I am and always have been utterly and completely unfulfilled. Good things have and do happen to me and I am grateful for them, but they aren’t the desires of my heart. They’re just breadcrumbs to me while I’m still starving to death. They aren’t anything that make me feel whole or truly happy. My life has been so fucking difficult and traumatic. Especially the last eight years. All of my twenties have been filled with agony. All the abuse, all the sickness, death, deplorable circumstances, anger, fear, hopelessness, and so much more. All the things I’ve told my friends on here about my life is just a drop from the well of what all I’ve been through and am going through. I just want to be happy. I want to look forward to the days, not dread them. Even now, my “good” days aren’t really good. They’re just bearable. Bearable enough to get through and try to feign happiness and energy, but inside my mind is just telling me every horrific and depressing thing. I just want it to stop. It’s been twenty eight years. Surely that’s enough suffering to have earned some joy and fulfillment. I can’t take living another year like this.
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Ranking All The Concerts I Attended In 2022
Because it’s the end of the year, and, damn, there were a lot!
Yungblud (Cleveland, OH. February 5, 2022)
Rating: 3/5
This one gets an extra star because Palaye Royale were the opening act. It was a small venue, so that was pretty cool. And I bought a Palaye Royale beanie that I still wear all the time. But, my friend and I were really disappointed, because Yungblud signed autographs for a few fans, but by the time we made it outside, he was already gone 💔
Blind Channel (Warrendale, PA. March 3, 2022.)
Rating: 2/5
I hate to rate my favorite band so low!! I mean. It was the first day, of their first US tour, and it felt incredibly special to be one of the very first Americans to see them live.
But, as I mentioned earlier, they were the third of five bands to take the stage. After BC’s set, I had to sit through two more bands, that I really didn’t care about. During From Ashes To New (the headliner)’s set, someone pushed me and I almost fell down. Towards the end, I was really in pain and just wanted the show to be over. ;_;
Blind Channel (New York, NY. April 11, 2022)
Rating: 5/5
Their headliner, on the other hand, was fucking incredible!! This was their first headline show in the US, and it was amazing to be part of that.
I got to meet Niko and Joel after the show!! Oh, and I also met @pastlink :)
Machine Gun Kelly (Cleveland, OH. August 13, 2022.)
Rating: 4/5
This was a hometown show, and MGK really pulled out all the stops!!
He zip lined from one end of the arena to the other, which was crazy to watch. He also broke a wine glass with his face and performed the last quarter of his set covered in blood. He’s truly unpredictable.
Oh and Avril Lavigne opened for him. She was amazing too 💕
Black Veil Brides (Cleveland, OH. September 8, 2022)
Rating: 2/5
BVB’s actual set was phenomenal. I have no complaints about that! But I’m ranking them low, because they were the third of four bands to perform. (It was We Came As Romans, then Motionless In White, then BVB, then Ice Nine Kills.)
MIW’s set was actually decent, but I didn’t care about the other two at all. The show was just…too fucking long. By the end of it, my feet were really sore and I just wanted to sit down ASAP. 😭
The crowd was also really unruly and I got pushed and shoved a lot. :(
My Chemical Romance (Detroit, MI. September 13, 2022)
Rating: 3/5
I was in the waaaaay back of a huge arena. Like, my seat was so high off the ground that it literally gave me vertigo. 😨 My friend had to buy a beer to calm herself, because it was setting off her acrophobia that bad.
But, this was the show where Gerard wore a nurse outfit. I fucking love Nurse!Gerard. The look has inspired so much fan art. Also, I had been waiting like….almost a decade for this band to reunite. I was thrilled to see them live at all.
Palaye Royale (Detroit, MI. October 1, 2022)
Rating: 5/5
Remington and Sebastian performed an acoustic version of “Ma Cherie” prior to the actual show, for the VIP ticket holders. It was amazing, even tho Rem sounded sick. Their actual set was fire. ❤️🔥 At one point, the stage caught on actual fire, but they just kept going. 😂 Oh, and Mod Sun was a great opening act!
The merch line after the show was stupidly long (it wrapped up a whole flight of stairs!) but the merch guys felt bad for the people who waited for an hour or more, and started just giving them free shit on top of their purchase.
My friend and I got separated at one point and she met Sebastian while I was somewhere else?! But, I got to meet Remington and he hugged me 🖤🖤🖤
Måneskin (Detroit, MI. November 18, 2022)
Rating: 3/5
I was once again seated in the balcony section, in the back of a huge arena. 😭
But, the actual performance was amazing. They had so much energy. Oh, and I also met @lnights before the show, which was pretty cool!
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did hit me for a second i have to go through the cycle again and by cycle i mean the eat/purge/sulk cycle i have been going through for a month now at least. my brain is just that fucking decayed from being sick every day that i’m genuinely losing track of time because i don’t remember when this major relapse happened but i think it was around a month ago at least? again, i’m not sure. i really can’t remember. can’t remember much at all to be quite honest. all i know of myself is that i weigh less now than i did when i saw spoon and i saw them while still in a near equivalent cycle but promptly stopped while and after i was gone. which was mostly situational as i was in a sort of dormitory hotel and didn’t want to puke my guts out in the one bathroom shared by like 4 other rooms on the floor. at the time i said to myself i wasn’t gonna let my ED get in the way but it still kind of did in another way where i restricted or didn’t eat the entire three days. think i ate twice my entire time in sydney. but the point here is i’m in worse shape than i was when i saw my boys and i am almost crushed by that but i’m plagued. i feel closer to death or extreme event now than i did upon initial relapse. one of the reasons i fretted and waited so long to pull the trigger on seeing them was that i was worried i was gonna end up in a bad place and be hospitalized and be forced to miss them which truly would have gutted me beyond belief if this was the case but! i saw them regardless whatever whatever. right now i actively feel my heart decaying and wasting away and its small twangs really do ache in the weirdest way. every time i stand up i almost feel my entire body dissolve into static fluid that’ll soak through the floor. i feel dazed and confused. physically i see myself no different but some weight-loss is evident, it’s not enough though. i would have to be literal bone before somebody notices something is off because i look more or less the same. i’ve been laying here curled in bed under two blankets because i’m infinitely more sensitive to the cold than i was prior to this. i think i’ve only kept two, maybe three things that could be deemed meals in the entire time i’ve been in this relapse. i legitimately cannot keep anything down that’s non-fluid. it feels like a fucking torturous clump forming in my stomach. like rocks. i force myself to eat something small and non-heavy that’s basically thick fluid every day hours after my purges so i’m getting some kind of fragmented nutrients (which is definitely not enough. the nutrients i’m getting from it are literal crumbs) which at this stage are the only thing keeping me alive/preventing a serious medical event. the other week when i was running in hysterics down the street unable to breathe and my body was hanging by a thread really felt like it was going to be the moment something inside of me broke and sent me to a hospital. still incredibly surprised my body somehow endured that because i really did feel like i was going to collapse on the pavement. anyways i still haven’t gotten out of bed to weigh myself for the day because i’m scared as i rebounded last night and have been trying to talk myself away from the hypothetical ledge i’m standing on like it has to be water weight but i also am certain i didn’t clear everything out of my stomach either so it could also be what i don’t want. in short i really just want to fucking die. every day i wake up and legitimately suffer. i have nothing to live for let alone recover for which i went over last time kinda. i don’t know what to do but i’m just resigning myself to nature taking its inevitable course which unfortunately in these cases, takes its time. there’s not really a whole lot i can do. i’m scared. frightened. but it is what it is.
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A Brief Summary Of The Wild Ride that was 2023
31/12-2023
This year has been life changing in many ways and I believe the most eventful and painful and hardest to survive, but also one of the most meaningful.
In January I had a traumatic relapse with alcohol which caused psychotic symptoms while drinking.
In February this ended up causing us to be evicted with 24h notice in and I ended up in the hospital with severe delirium tremens which has a 60% mortality rate.
Every second I stared at that clock for over 24h I just fought to survive and keep my heartbeat down so that I wouldn’t go into cardiac arrest and leave Erik alone on this earth.
I fought to survive for Erik.
I looked into the eyes of the Doctor and they saw me and this time they listened to me.
The eight of march i knew I had survived.
After that in March we moved into the apartment at Ledgränd 9.
In march also the cops got Erik and he lost his license.
He had to sell his car that he loved because the move there and my addiction had taken the last of the vast fortune he once had..
We were now house poor.
I wasn’t quite myself for a long time after that.
I thought I had to pretend to be someone else, a woman, a housewife, and normal.
I was suffering from post acute withdrawal symptoms and soc had a warrant out for me.
The dirty addict, which I ended up thinking that is all I’ll ever be.
I had completely forgotten my intellectual capacity which was prominent in the hospital.
I even grew my hair long.
I thought that because I lived in a area like that and was with a man I had to play the role of the perfect housewife.
Erik confessed that he thought i was insane when I suddenly acted like this.
I hadn’t found the medication I needed and i didn’t understand at all what was wrong with me and benso and alcohol had completely changed my brain and shattered my personality, I had even forgotten the concept of keeping time.
I told Erik that I’ve forgotten that people look at clocks.
I was very sick every day, and many days I couldn’t get up out of bed.
This and painful state obligatory meetings with the Rehab facility every week almost crushed me and went on March-July.
This was soul crushing and I was desperately trying to find myself again trying to connect to the person with short black hair in the pictures I’d forgotten.
I had no cognitive recollection of being that person.
I tried Psychedelics for the first time and they truly saved me.
With each trip I took to work on my trauma the more I learned who I was and I leveled up, each time i returned more and more to myself.
I found my spirituality and the angels and the light and I started to pray to them every day.
I managed to find my full consciousness and my intelligence returned to normal, finally since the start of my addiction. I was free from the addiction center and
I finally found a combination of medication that made me able to handle my every day life.
In August i started studying for the first time in eight years. All for financial reasons. It was stressful but i was good at it. It still made me feel like i need to be someone else.
I had a profound realization of who i am on a ketamine trip and In the end of August I cut my hair off at 4AM, also finally.
Erik said he loved me as my true Genderfluid self.
I also slowly started singing again, after not singing or even prioritized it for a whole fucking year.
That vocal break did me good though, and I sounded better and could control my voice much better and fix the microphone problems so I suddenly was a better vocalist than ever.
After the summer of suffering came September and Autumn and the drop of the bombshell of the century began to fall on me.
I am autistic. But that’s not the bomb that’s falling. Instead I’m browsing on the internet casually learning about it and I read that there is a thing called Savant Syndrome which is common in autism and I fill all the criteria for it. Usually diagnosed savants receive some level of public recognition and fame. No, that’s not the bomb either. There is a different type of Savant Syndrome called “prodigious savant” which has less than 50 diagnosed cases ever in human history. Most commonly musical prodigies, including Mozart and Beethoven.
And I fit all uncommon criteria needed for it.
Nuclear Bomb fucking dropped.
The aftermath was chaotic because I couldn’t find the right words to express that I’ve just won the lottery.
This total chock lead to to the first of many small hurtful and tragic relapses.
The rest of the time spent on ledgränd 9 was a mix of lengthy discussions and more and more fights and time analyzing my entire life to make adjustments based on ADHD/autism and trying to make Erik understand who I am.
The adjustments I made in my life for autism was miraculous and for the first time something actually helped me.
The fights continued, the singing continued, the pain continued but I was still healing more and more.
It was still very hard to get out of bed in the morning and I was very unlucky with the mail and had to relapse into alcohol and one week in November I had what seemed like an allergic reaction to alcohol and I had the worst nausea of my life and felt violently seasick 24/7 for several days. I couldn’t take care of myself.
That experience changed me as a person. All the waiting, the mental torture and the feeling that my body was wasting away was worse than March. I thought I’d never get well and feel normal again.
But I did.
After that I was adamant about having a good life and made schedules and lists on what to do to help me and followed them and I was able to get through to feel fully back to my normal real self.
But at the same time the drugs were starting to take over me and Erik, and I don’t remember much but we managed to get this apartment, an impossibly beautiful dream apartment in the middle of the city, and I was high when we got it and both me and Erik were high when we had the most chaotic move of all time where everything that could go wrong went wrong we ended up having to take 2 taxis with the rest of our furniture and leave the apartment in complete disarray and broken.
We moved into the dream on Storgatan 22 I believe around 13/11 but I can’t be sure.
I didn’t care that it was my dream.
The change and chaos of the put a total full grinding halt on all the progress I’d made and I completely burned out. I sat in a dark room. I couldn’t even look at my phone. I paid a shady doctor to give me a note so that I could quit school.
I ended up experiencing extreme neurological pain.
We didn’t get any mail for a long time and I ended up in so much pain that l couldn’t move.
In the middle of the move I ran up to some punk kids and managed to get connections to the local dealers and so I ended up taking OxyContin, every day which fucking ruined me completely and I didn’t recognize me in the mirror, but it was all that was available.
Erik and I had drifted apart from each more and more with each new relapse and with learning that i had savant syndrome I wanted to work on it, but we couldn’t agree on anything anymore and i felt so lost in our relationship
So starting at the local punk concert I scored the dealers I also scored the lead singer/guitarist and so I managed to have an affair with a girl who looked like Gerard Way. Because I’m the worst person alive,
I certainly felt like it.
But all it did was give me the realization that not even someone who looks like my childhood crush and play guitar makes me feel anything other than I only want him, no one else, and that I want to fight for my relationship and love him forever.
I told him about it immediately after it happened.
But then I had to drink again because we again couldn’t get Lyrica, and I was unable to walk. It led to weeks of hell in physical pain and psychosis and he had to get me wine in the morning and it drove both of us insane.
I fell in the night and cut up my face on the radiator and had to get 3 stitches.
Now I’m gonna have a scar like a movie villain.
I kinda like it.
I almost cried when I held the Lyrica in my hand again.
The nightmare ended just before Christmas.
I spent Christmas Eve trying to rehydrate, give my body calories and the death rattle trying to cover up the sores, grayness and acne with makeup and look pretty and healthy enough to go a fancy hotel to have Christmas dinner with Erik’s parents. I remember I sang “my makeup may be flaking, but my smile still stays on” my voice cracking, while I applied the paint to my broken body.
But sometimes it’s good to push through and I had the most wonderful Christmas I’ve ever had. I had made myself really beautiful and dressed for the first time in a long time, and it was snowing as we walked to have an amazing dinner in the luxurious castle hotel that I love. It saved me.
I spoke honestly with his parents and I laughed and had amazing insightful conversations and amazing food and I felt fancy and beautiful and like a worthy well respected person, and I feel so truly welcomed into his wonderful family and his mom said I should become a scientist, which makes me believe that other people recognize me as an intellectual. It was like a dream, life was beautiful again.
The next day Erik left to go back to his hometown to meet his friends and spend time with his family and I’ve been on my own for a week, and I have cleaned and started to unpack everything and I feel like I am back to who I was before the big move.
This year has been the year of disasters.
But I know now that I am on this earth for music, and that I’m able to achieve everything I ever wanted, and this apartment is so beautiful it feels like I’m finally in the gold room.
Today is New Year’s Eve which I spent alone unpacking all my clothes.
So I’m not going to make any serious New Year’s resolutions, only that I’m going to look hot.
Also I want to let myself be kind to myself because… I’ve been through a lot.
I’m a prodigy. I’m beautiful again.
I’m in the gold room. So then the only thing then left is,
In 2024 is to try to finally get what I want.
The suffering never lasts forever, remember that. If we are able to love then we can remain, and I will never stop loving, so I will remain through the suffering no matter what.
I am not going to ever give up on the art of Music.
You could say that my life is chaotic.
I am not afraid, I was born to do this.
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Hmmm
It’s a feeling of peace but it comes with a sadness full of yearning. All of it aside, I feel the most disappointed that I never truly connected with him. Kinda feels like a waste of time in hindsight. I understand what my limitations were when I entered the relationship and I can see where I made mistakes. I just want to know someone truly and for someone to truly know me. That didn’t happen in my last relationship. I don’t want him anymore. Honestly, I can’t really remember what it was like dating him apart from anything negative. He is slowly fading away. I am okay with this. I know that I struggle to connect with others on a deeper level, especially on an emotional sexual sense. I feel like he mirrored me the whole time. Did I really even connect to him at all? I have no idea, but I feel like the answer is no. This is okay too. But it does make me feel sad. I feel better about being alone and doing my own thing. I feel healthier in most ways. I don’t know. The whole relationship I made with him confuses me. It doesn’t matter much at this point. I feel it was necessary as I learned a lot and got to enjoy new experiences. I found out more of my likes and dislikes in myself and in partners. I don’t really know how to connect with others. I know that I didn’t go about it right the last time at all. I felt all over the place. However, I feel a lot of my choices were reactive and in response to his choices. And maybe none of that was the right way to do things either. But it’s what I did. I can see the incompatibility but a lot of it felt very real. I feel robbed. I know it’s for the best to let it all go. I can’t disrespect myself or my progress anymore. I know I’m fine on my own and I know that I will fall in love again. Maybe the next time will be even better. I don’t even know what I would say to him if I saw him again. I just feel worn out. There are no more words left to say. I feel like I’ve said it all. There’s probably more I’d like to hear. But I know that comes with more I’d like not to hear as well. I feel like he was legitimately pretty mean to me throughout the relationship. But I’m so mean to myself, I didn’t really see a difference. Like I know I’m sick in the head, but he’s a whole fucking circus. Honestly, now some of it is kinda funny. I always get myself into bullshit for no reason. And the guy is literally made of bullshit. Grief has been an interesting experience to say the least. It was a volatile process for me and it took a long time. It’s hard to believe it’ll be two years in November. I’m glad that I figured it out for myself on my own. Maybe there are better ways to heal through things like this, but I went about it the way I did. I really did think he loved me. It was a very confusing relationship.
I don’t really feel like I have the patience anymore to deal with someone else. I feel like I’ve really gotten used to being on my own all the time. I don’t think this is a bad thing, but I’m not sure how to go about trying again. I feel emotionally available finally, but I also feel suspicious, paranoid, and scared. I know I can only control myself, but it’s severely painful to be lied to as I was in my last relationship. I still don’t really understand the purpose of it. If you no longer want something, leave. It’s uncomfortable to live in your lies. I cannot stand it, so I refrain from putting myself into those positions. I don’t think he liked me at all. I felt very alone in that last relationship. I’m not sure how to let someone in again. It was very difficult for me the first time, but I kept trying my best. I feel like I was so determined to try to open up that I completely missed what was actually happening before me. I let my guard down and chose to be vulnerable hoping to connect with someone in the most intimate way. I ended up really hurt. I don’t want to let the experience make me bitter though. Whoever comes to me next doesn’t deserve to be punished for someone else’s choices. That person deserves a fresh start. I deserve a fresh start too. I have worked extremely hard to work through my hurt and get past my last relationship. It was so much more painful and difficult than I realized it would be. I’m so happy that I feel better again. I feel a bit numb about meeting new people though. I just feel exhausted. The last thing I want to do is get myself into an excruciating romance again. I finally feel free and like myself again. I just want to enjoy that.
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I got so excited that you mentioned Maslows needs pyramid,😭I LOVE philosophy so much 🤓😭 and wow another amazing post ? I'm in awe truly once again thank you so much for this!! And a question do you think this approaching class warefare will be in 2023? If not when it will or might become biggest concern for the entire world if ever? How long is this warfare will last And I wonder what will the outcome?👀thank youu
Thanks! I love the needs hierarchy too because it is so helpful to see where you fall and to in general help you identify needs.
Hmm well I’m not exactly sure on timeline. In America there’s been a lot in the news about the potential railroad workers striking but congress passed a law against it. Which not a fan of. Congress should’ve just passed mandatory federal paid sick days, but plot twist, all politicians are capitalists and put companies and productivity above human lives. One day it’s gonna cost them.
Idk about the entire world. I mean we have been seeing protests in Iran, and China. I think across the board people are tired of being restricted and limited. I think it’s sort of like the hierarchy of needs, wealthier countries are higher up on where they can focus than others. But a lot of poorer nations are that way from colonist and capitalist intervention and I wonder if the west stopped plundering from them and making them dependent on aid so we can always look like the savior, if those countries would have the chance to evolve and become more stable in themselves.
Hmm I think you’ve seen class warfare crop up throughout human history. I mean during the Industrial Revolution in a America you saw workers striking. I think humanity has gone through the same cycles repeatedly but as a collective won’t change. Maybe it’s not meant to. Idk but it frustrates the hell out of me. Because the choice is so obvious.
What I think will happen is the economy in America and across the connected west is gonna continue to have issues and this will lead to protests like we saw in Greece after the housing crisis. I think the American people are gonna have to figure out how to come together to fight for higher pay and better treatment and the only way to do that is to bring capitalism to a halt. Capitalism relies on cheap labor and when no one works. We’re already seeing a hiring crisis. Yeah we added more jobs but they’re all jobs no one wants because they are shitty and don’t pay well. Will the capitalist overlords respond with better conditions to appease the masses a bit longer? Maybe. I mean I think a lot of politicians can see the building unrest, which is part of why I think it seems they’re focusing on policies to help “the little guy” even while really changing nothing at the core. If this goes the way I sort of think, people will progressively get more and more fed up and societal structure will slowly erode (we’re already seeing this) and at some point we will have mass protests across America, like with BLM, and this will inspire the working classes in other countries to protest. I think we will begin seeing strikes in whole sectors, specifically shipping, like fed ex and Amazon workers.
What will be the outcome? I hope a better world system, but if human history has taught me anything it’s that they may make a fix that leads us collectively up slightly but it won’t be the overhaul of the system we all need to see. I say this as someone who’s worked in a lot of bureaucracy. What we have doesn’t work. It’s not working. We can’t just keep sticking bandaids on things because we will bleed out. We pay people to sit at work and do nothing and barely pay our teachers, nurses, and mental health and social workers. We barely pay EMTs. All these choices to keep businesses profitable by fucking the workers is gonna create serious issues. I’ve been seeing it happen the past few years as more and more essential jobs can’t recruit people. I used to work in local government and we raised our hourly positions multiple times to attempt to be competitive. All this to say I think this will be a slow build that will erupt and the government will make some reforms without inherently changing the core issues which means we’ll have another cycle in the future again. Humanity hates change and does it only when the other option is destruction. I’m still waiting to see what happens to the planet too. Climate change is a whole other issue, so maybe we’ll just let rich people destroy the only planet we know that supports life and then human issues like class and workers rights won’t matter.
It’s not that I don’t think humanity can change. I’m not hopeless fully. It’s just they refuse to do what needs to happen. So there’s that! All you can do is work on being the best you you can be and hopefully if all of us work on ourselves it creates energy of change that reaches the people who have the power to choose differently.
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DEPRESSION
I need to get excited about what I want and FOCUS on what I want. I keep falling into caring about what others want because I want their love and validation and that’s an awful pit to live in.
The way out is to focus on things that would make me happy and make those things happen.
I think that things went poorly the last time I tried to be “selfish.” I tried focusing on myself and what I wanted when Susie and I moved into Kendrick. Then Atom started falling apart, dad fell (and eventually died), Susie and I both started going through our own separate personal struggles, and we lost our apartment. Comic Cons didn’t go anywhere, and in fact, the last real one I did (I don’t count Swan Con, no offense to them) was a disaster because Susie was sick/hurt the whole weekend and no one bought anything from me anyway.
I just see selfish pursuit as disaster. Things will go wrong. I worry about upsetting people, because I hate that more than just about anything, and I obsess over making people happy, because I love that more than just about anything. Once other people are involved, it becomes incredibly difficult for me to separate my wants from the wants of others. The other people are so distracting to me.
I think I love movies and food because other people are kinda irrelevant in those situations. They don’t have to eat what I eat. They don’t have to watch what I’m watching. These things are for my taste buds and eyes only. That’s partially why I like going to the movies alone now.
I can’t seem to separate other people from my insatiable desire to please them, OR my inescapable fear of upsetting them.
The trick to happiness is a healthy form of selfishness. And just trusting yourself to not be reckless with others in the process.
And I think I resent people who are comfortably self-focused. Like Susie and Chris Olivo.
I think I need to come back to reality. I’ve been avoiding it as much as possible in order to avoid how sad and broken I feel. Like I could pretend I wasn’t destroyed. And if I pretended long enough, I’d be okay. It’s the whole “never going back to hell and back” idea. Refusing to fall apart and build myself back up because I had literally just done that. I had just started to feel better in summer of 2021.
I just need to come back and deal with the real world. It’s like I’m always trying to get by without really coming to reality.
It’s funny. Things honestly aren’t as bad when you just come into reality. What’s TRULY difficult is trying to live life as an effective “background process” while you spend most of your time and energy in your head. I do it out of protection but it makes life harder.
It’s like I’m only popping into reality as much as I need in order to remain part of it. Otherwise, I’m fucking gone. And that’s why I want people to be happy with me. So I can tune out and go somewhere else. If they’re upset with me I feel like I have to stay in reality and fix it.
Atom falling apart was a reality I didn’t want to face. But it was so big and unavoidable. Just like his death. It’s the worst truth. The harshest reality. Atom was real and he was my best friend. But now he’s gone. And I didn’t even get to repay him for everything before he left (or before I left him back in the past).
Journaling has been helpful for me, but I think it’s also my way of escaping into a fantasy world where my only real obligation is to observe and deconstruct my reality. I don’t have to do anything about it. And lack of change helps me to avoid reality. Change and reality are so intertwined. You can’t see one without seeing the other. So I avoid change to avoid reality.
FAMILY
I think I need to tell them how hard 2018 was and how I wanted to leave before Atom did. Tell them how frustrating it was (and is) to feel alone in regard to the whole Atom situation.
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He cheats and gets someone else pregnant
Haikyuu Boys Drabbles
The one where you finally realize your worth and don’t forgive a cheater
SUNA RINTARO
It was inevitable, he supposed. You weren’t a dumb person- you’d figure it out soon enough. You’d pick up on the signs- notice how much he’s been going out lately and staring at his phone. Laughing at things you hadn’t sent him, becoming distant, slowly but surely.
Suna knew you’d find out.
He just wasn’t expecting it to be soon.
He had come home one evening and took a shower like normal. While he washed up, he made the terrible mistake of leaving his phone in the kitchen, thinking that there was no way she’d text him. Their relationship was dwindling, after all. Suna was beginning to let the guilt get to him.
After 3 long months, he finally realized what he had wanted. He wanted you, forever and always. He wanted to marry you and spend the rest of his days traveling and experiencing new things with you.
Unfortunately though, he figured it out too late. A boys mistake, thinking that the grass was greener on the other side. And he’d soon pay the price for that wishful thinking.
While you were cooking dinner, you couldn’t help but notice how often his phone was going off. It kept dinging every few seconds, quickly causing you to become irritated.
Suna’s phone never went off that much, and so you thought surely it must be the boys. They probably added him into a group chat, you figured.
Oh how wrong you were.
The minute you walked over to the device and picked it up, you could truly feel your heart break. Searing pain burst through you like a rocket, a gasp leaving your lips as you scrolled through the messages.
8:53 PM
Unknown: Suna? Do you think we could talk?
Unknown: I know you said that you were going back to Y/N, but I...I’m pregnant. And it’s yours
Undeniably, you were shocked and confused. Pregnant? Who was this that was texting his phone? And why the hell did she think she was pregnant by your boyfriend?
A sickening feeling began to bubble in your stomach. Putting the phone down, you clenched your fists and took deep breaths.
In and out, Y/N. In and out.
Surely there was an explanation for this, right? You’d ask Suna as soon as he got done showering, and he’d laugh and tell you how this was all a misunderstanding. Some prank by Atsumu, wanting to get him back in his own cruel way.
But...
One look at his face, though, and you knew everything.
“Tell me you didn’t,” Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at Suna, his eyes widened as he looked at the phone in your trembling hands. Once again, it pinged, but you didn’t even have the energy to look. The only thing you were focused on was your heavy breathing, and the fact that you were becoming light-headed as Suna stepped forward.
“Y/N, baby, I can explain.”
As soon as those words left this lips, your entire world shattered. Letting out a sob, you dropped the phone and used your hands to cover your mouth in horror.
“So you did.”
Suna became panicked as soon as you started crying, holding onto the kitchen table to keep yourself from falling over. The pain that you felt was indescribable, not to mention the absolute betrayal. You had given everything up for Suna- and he repayed you like this?
“Y/N/N, please,” Suna was begging as he moved closer, trying to embrace your crying figure in his arms but you pushed him away, sudden anger taking over you.
“Don’t touch me!” Suna flinched as your damn near threw him off, backing up so far from him. The look in your eyes nearly killed him as you made eye contract, “I don’t want your filthy hands on me now that I know where they’ve been!”
“Y/N...-”
“Shut the fuck up Suna!”
You could no longer control yourself as rage began taking over your body, slowly but surely replacing the tears. The more you processed it - the more you looked at that bastards face and realized that he had went and knocked someone up while you were at home, cooking his dinner - the more infuriated you became.
“I cannot fucking believe you. Like are you serious right now?! I spend all day, all fucking day waiting for you Suna. I cook your food, I run you baths, I do everything I can to make your life less stressful and then you go and do this shit?”
“Baby just listen me, it’s not like that, okay?Whatever you saw- it’s in the past! Me and her- it meant nothing. I realize that now. It’s me and you baby- just us. That’s all I want,” Suna felt tears trailing down his cheeks as he desperately pleaded his case. Desperately grabbing at you, trying to hold you as if that would make everything okay. As if a simple “I’m sorry,” could fix what he broke.
Instead, you found yourself laughing bitterly and fought the urge to smack him in the face. No, you decided you’d have more dignity than that. You’d pack your stuff, peacefully, and leave this asshole here to rot.
“Whatever.”
That was quickly decided in your mind and within seconds, you were shaking your head, scoffing as you pushed passed him and practically ran to your shared bedroom.
“Wait-! Y/N, what are you doing? No, no, no, no!” Suna panicked even more when he followed you and saw that you were hurriedly packing your stuff in a suitcase. It was messy, and you barely had half of your shit but you decided that it’d do. At least until right now. At least until...well, you didn’t really know anymore.
You and Suna, you guys were supposed to be each other’s forever. You were supposed to be endgame, but as it turned out, Suna ruined that before you could even get a ring.
You scoffed again at the prospect of ever marrying him. Now, you began to think about why you even wanted him in the first place. How did you not notice the signs? The lack of effort for weeks until Suna suddenly warmed up again and began treating you like you were his world.
How did you not catch on? How did it completely slip your mind that you were dating a cheater, until the facts suddenly smacked you right in the face?
“What does it look like I’m doing, Rintaro,” You rolled your eyes, zipping the suitcase and then booking it to the bathroom. You quickly grabbed your body wash, all your hair products and then your toothbrush. You lazily threw them in a another bag and then stood up, glaring at Suna who tried to block you from exiting the door.
“Move,” You stared him down, venom lacing your words. “I don’t fucking have time for this.”
“Baby, please,” You flinched as he reached out to touch you, to stroke your cheek with the same hands that had touched her. They were slightly wet, presumably from wiping his tears away, but all you could think about was that you weren’t the only one he had been coming home to. You weren’t the only one he had been fucking and touching.
The thought made you absolutely sick. You were sure that if you didn’t get out now, then you’d puke all over your- his expensive furniture.
“You have to listen to me,” Suna silently cried, his body shaking as he stood there, begging for the one person he needed in his life to stay. “I told you- she means nothing. I don’t want anything to do with her, I only want you, Y/N.”
“And the baby?” Dammit. You couldn’t help yourself. Once again, your anger began to fade as tears gathered in your eyes.
Suna had a child. He had a fucking child with some stranger he’d known less than six months. She was carrying his blood, something that was supposed to be your moment. You were supposed to give him his first child. You were supposed to be the one he shared that part of life with, not her.
“I- what?”
From the looks of it, you’d almost think that Suna didn’t know. His eyes were wide, his whole body stopping as he stared at you incredulously.
And then it hit you.
He didn’t know.
He didn’t even know that she was carrying his baby. He was completely clueless. Both of you were blindsided.
At this, you couldn’t help it. You did laugh, a bitter sound that sounded almost like you were mocking him.
“Wow Rintaro. How fucking stupid could you get?” You let out a watery chuckle, shaking your head as a tear ran down your face. “If you’re gonna cheat and fuck someone else, then at least be smart enough to wear a condom.”
“But I...that’s impossible,” Suna whispered, mostly to himself. “I don’t...I mean she can’t possibly...how did you...?”
“She was blowing up your phone while you were in the shower. How did you think I found out?” You gave him a fake smile. “For someone that doesn’t like putting in a lot of effort, you sure did put a lot into making sure you fucked this relationship up. And then your own life too.”
You hated to say it, but you silently enjoyed the way Suna was going to suffer. At the very least, it was absolutely what he deserved for cheating in the first place. Now, his life was probably going to be ruined. His career, his dreams, everything he had planned...
It was gonna go down the drain.
And you for one were grateful he wasn’t dragging you down with him.
“I...” Suna was at an absolute loss for his words. His whole body slumped, seemingly going numb as he just stayed in the doorway, looking shocked. It gave you the perfect opportunity to push past him, a small smirk on your face despite the searing pain in your heart.
You knew it was serious when he didn’t even try to stop you when you opened the front door.
“I left your phone on kitchen floor. Maybe you should call her. I’m sure you’d like to know more, seeing as it is yours. For your sake, I hope it’s a bouncing baby boy. That’s what you always wanted, right?”
You spoke one last time, making sure to rub salt in the wound before taking a final glance at the man you loved.
He looked broken, a sheer sobbing mess as he still stood in your bedroom door. A part of you couldn’t help but feel bad. You couldn’t help but want to go over and embrace him, dropping everything and tell him that things were gonna work out.
That was the part of you that still loved him.
But the other part...
The other part of you told you that it’s what he deserved. He cheated, and now he has to live with the consequences. Loosing you, and becoming a father at the age of 20.
That was the part of you that gave you the extra push. That was the part of you that gave you the strength to close the door, forever walking away from the man that broke you and the empty house that held all of your dead dreams.
——————————— ☁️ ——————————
BOKUTO KOUTARO
You didn’t believe it. Or more like, you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t wanna shatter your fantasy world, one that you had been living in for four years.
You didn’t want it to break, because if it did...
You didn’t know what you were going to do.
For the last four years Bokuto had been your world. Your absolute rock, your sunshine on a cloudy day. He made you laugh, he made you feel welcome and special like nobody else had before.
Surely...your Bokuto wasn’t capable of this. Surely didn’t...he couldn’t have...
You didn’t even wanna think about it. Bile rose up in your throat every time you thought about it...his lips on hers. Caressing her and holding her the way he was supposed to only hold you.
You didn’t wanna think about it, but yet-
You had no choice as you stared at the pregnant woman before you.
“I’m sorry,” She had tears in her eyes as she sat on your couch, sobbing while simultaneously holding her belly. While holding his baby.
She had come to you only a few hours before, taking you by complete surprise. Never in your life did you ever think you’d come face to face with your boyfriend’s baby momma.
But that’s exactly what had happened.
Apparently, she and Bokuto had both had a one stand a few months ago. It was when he had traveled to Tokyo for a game and you stayed behind because you had school.
It was the one weekend you weren’t there to support him. One weekend...and you had lost him forever.
“It’s not...it’s not your fault,” You told her somewhat awkwardly, although you didn’t really mean it. She had slept with your boyfriend, after all. And now she was pregnant, claiming the baby was 100% his.
That wasn’t even the worst part though.
The worst part was that you couldn’t even be mad at her, because she didn’t know. It was a one night thing. She had told you Bokuto had left in tears the next morning, rambling on about how she meant nothing and that he had you to come home to.
She claimed that he regretted it the minute he realized what happened. Crying out about how he was going to propose and then rushing out without so much as a goodbye.
Oh how stupid he was to name drop you.
You almost wished he hadn’t, because that was how she had found you. After finding out that she was pregnant, she tried to reach out to Bokuto only to realize that he was telling the truth. He’d been with you for four years.
But did that really even mean anything anymore?
“It’s just- I just-” The girl shook her head. “I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. If I had known...if I had any other choice...”
“Actually, I’m sort of glad you reached out to me. Thank you for that. That was good on your part, seeing as I doubt he would have told me,” You smiled numbly, not capable of feeling anything at the moment.
It was like...your entire body was on shut down mode. It had become numb, desperately trying to block out the pain you were sure that was coming. And you, for one, were absolutely grateful. You didn’t wanna think... you didn’t even wanna fathom how broken you were gonna be.
So you didn’t. Instead you kept your thoughts quiet and relished in the numbness.
“You know...” You laughed bitterly, sadly shaking your head as you sighed, “Bokuto’s always wanted a kid. He kept begging me a few weeks ago to have one, but I said no. We’re both so young, you know? We had our whole lives together.”
You hadn’t meant to make her cry even more, but that’s exactly what your words did. They cut a knife through this random girl’s heart, causing her pain that she had stolen that from you. Bokuto, he had taken that from you as well.
“I’m sorry,” Once again, she apologized, but you weren’t much focused on that. Instead, your attention snapped towards the front door as you heard keys jingling outside. With a sharp push, your stomach dropped.
Bokuto was home.
“Hey hey hey! Babe whose car is that-”
Bokuto’s smile suddenly dropped as he walked into the scene, your dull eyes and the girl’s tearful ones ones trained on him. Immediately, his whole demeanor began to crumble down and he nervously looked between the two of you, his shoulders dropping.
“...outside. What’s this?”
“Bokuto, I believe you know her,” You were eerily calm as you pointed towards her, showing no emotion as Bokuto’s eyes flickered to her stomach. “This is Kayla. From Tokyo, right? I think you guys have much to discuss.”
Bokuto was at a loss for words as you rose from the couch, gesturing for him to take your seat. But instead of listening, he decided to make things difficult and run after you like a lost puppy as you made your way to the bedroom.
“Babe, babe wait! Y/N, please baby I can explain. I can explain, I can explain, I swear! Just let me, just please let me-”
“Bokuto,” You stopped him, holding up your hand and shaking your head. “I’m not in the mood, really. Just go talk with her alright? She came all this way to find me, so it’s rude not to.”
“But baby-”
“Go,” You suddenly became firm, gritting your teeth as you stared him. For a second, you took a small pause, and then Bokuto heard the words he never wished to hear his in life. “And don’t you ever call me that ever again, Koutaro.”
“K-Koutaro...?” Bokuto stuttered slightly, reeling back at the use of his first name. “But baby...y-you never call me that. Ever.”
“Oh yeah?” You couldn’t help but laugh on how clueless he was. I mean honestly, you never thought that Bokuto was stupid but now...“Well what the hell else am I supposed to call you? Read the fucking room Bokuto. Your pregnant fucking mistress is sitting on my couch, crying her eyes out and you’re worried about me calling you by your first fucking name? Get a god damn grip.”
For the first time that day, emotion began peaking out from your eyes. Pure anger bubbled up inside of your body, finally manifesting after holding it in for so long.
It felt good, in your opinion, to finally feel something. A delayed reaction, sure, but late was better than never.
“B-But-”
“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes at his trembling form. “I don’t wanna hear anything else from you. So go talk to her. Figure your shit out while I pack mine.”
“No!” Panic was evident in his voice as he suddenly grabbed your arms, preventing you from entering your bedroom. Shocked, you siteuggled in his embrace but Bokuto was extremely strong.
“What the hell? Let me go!”
“Y-Y/N! Baby y-you can’t leave me! You can’t! What about our plans? What about forever and always, you and me?”
“Did you think about that before you got drunk and fucked her?” You snapped harshly, causing him to whimper. “Exactly. So don’t come pulling that bullshit out on me, Bokuto. You’re the one that ruined that.”
“But-” At this point, he was searching for something, anything to make you stay as you shoved him off and then stormed in your shared room. “But baby I- we had this whole plan...I was gonna propose! Please, I...I even got the ring! Here I’ll prove it to you!”
While you were busy running around the room throwing all your stuff together, Bokuto suddenly dashed to the kitchen and retrieved a box he had been storing for a special occasion. He completely ignored the girl that was sitting on his couch, not even sparing her a second glance as he rushed back to you and dropped to his knees.
“See?” He hurriedly opened the box and desperately grabbed your hand, slipping the shiny diamond on before you could even protest. “I had it made for you, Y/N! Pure diamond, princess cut. It’s even engraved with your name baby! Please...”
You had to admit, you wanted to break down as Bokuto began to cry, looking awfully small as he kneeled by your feet. To make matters worse, he kept kissing your hand and mumbling tearful apologizes that yanked at your heartstrings.
By now, your initial exterior had began to crumble. Pain began to surround your heart, squeezing it so bad it almost felt like you were burning. A swell of tears gathered in your eyes, and you almost, almost gave in.
You almost sank to your knees and cried with him, almost pulled him into your arms because you didn’t wanna let go. You loved Bokuto, you truly did, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him.
He was a good man, that probably made an honest mistake. He was everything you had ever wanted. And you were so tempted...so tempted to give in. Until you realized that you deserved better.
“I’m sorry,” Sniffling slightly, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and shook your head. “But I need to go. I can’t stay here anymore Bokuto...you ruined this. You ruined us, and now you have a woman in there carrying your child. You have the family you’ve always wanted. Don’t ruin that too.”
Hastily, you leaned down to press a bitter kiss on his forehead and then stood back up. Bokuto sobbed as he watched your figure retreat, standing high despite the heartbreak.
It was then that he realized that even though you were letting him go, you’d be just fine. You’d pull yourself together eventually, you were strong like that. You didn’t need him, but god, what about him?
He wasn’t sure if he could survive without you. He could barely even breathe and you hadn’t even walked out yet.
Was this what it was going to feel like from now on? Empty, hollow...meaningless?
“Please.”
One last time, he cried out of you. He begged you to stay.
But you knew you deserved better than that.
“I’m sorry.”
And with that, you left him behind. Forever.
#suna x reader#suna angst#bokuto x reader#bokuto angst#suna rintaro#bokuto koutaro#hq x reader#hq angst#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu!!
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Shelby!Sister getting poisoned whilst at dinner with the whole family?
changed it up a bit; reader is roofied at one of Tommy’s fancy ball type parties and there’s one particular gentleman around to help her out.
Good Team
Tommy had, since you were merely a little girl, endeavoured to introduce you emphatically as (y/n) Shelby, with your surname stated soaked in ferocity and warning. You are a Shelby. You are his little sister. He makes sure people know this. He makes sure they’re aware. He sees it as a pre-warning, the kind that lets them know that you are very very important to him without actually saying those words. He sees it very much as a pre-warning for grievous bodily harm had any trouble befell you at another persons discretion. It was made incredibly clear from the moment you were born that you were so far from off limits to the enemies that it didn’t even need to be spoken.
However, it was a relatively occasional occurrence that this message was not accurately conveyed no matter how clear your elder brother was about the matter.
You were usually so cautious and so careful, but you were in your brothers own ballroom with his own supplied champagne and you had very few worries of such a simple business gathering for Christmas. You were adorning an extortionate dress that Tommy had made for you with a beautiful fur shoulder wrap, cheeks dusted with a champagne blush and a gorgeous smile as you mingle with rich business people and rich couples who were born into money. They were amazing at times to ogle at, coming from such a poor background. It was hard enough to adjust to your new life flaunting pretty dressed and walking around with a purpose and a job that had significant purpose.
But it would be safe to say you weren’t so worried around these people. You should’ve known better.
You keep blinking, squeezing your eyes shut to try and find vision again that wasn’t restricted by blurriness. The heels on your feet didn’t aid you much in the way of keeping your balance as you stumble into a long hall. You don’t remember where you last saw Tommy and you can’t remember where the glass you were holding had gone. You don’t know much, but you know you have to find one of your brothers.
Heavy footsteps behind you send a rush of hazed adrenaline through your veins, forcing your legs to move you faster, your arms scratching off paintings lining the walls as you attempt to use the wall as a stabiliser.
“Someone’s ‘ad a bit much, eh?”
Your eyelids flicker as you try to keep them open against the light that makes you feel like your head is exploding. “No, no I- there’s someone trying to get me!” You hiss in a slurred whisper with arms that flail somewhat aimlessly as you attempt to point out the person behind you. The man with his his on your biceps steadying you leans around to get a good look behind you. “Mhm, there me no one there love.” He says, confused. You can only vaguely make out who the person is that holds you up and it’s someone you know your brother only invited so as to attempt to talk him into taking on more Blinders for distillery protection.
Alfie Solomons wasn’t entirely the most trustworthy person that surrounded your family. Him and Tommy had a bit of a tendency to betray each other, no matter how expected it always was. The London gangster probably wasn’t the best person for you to bump into and definitely not the most reliable, but he was who you had ended up with and although it could have been him that drugged you, it didn’t seem incredibly likely. He told Tommy and Grace when greeting people at the front door; “No need for the fucking niceties eh Tommy? I’m here for the free booze mate yeah?” and walked on through with a pat on your brothers back.
Despite the fact you didn’t have much trust in him, you really holed that he wouldn’t pass you off as being overly drunk and leave you alone. You feel dreadfully unwell. Alfie looks down the hall, then back at you and with a sigh, he slips his strong arm around your waist and pulls you into his side for your stability. “I think you’re right, Shelby.” Alfie mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for even you to hear. “Something‘s just not right.” He turns to you, using his arm that wasn’t wrapped around you to lift up your eyelid. Beyond the terror in your eyes in huge pupils. “You’ve been drugged,” he states, his voice still low. “Better find those brothers of yours.”
That brings you some form of relief, but the terror still remains. It’s a scary situation, to know what you want to do with your limbs and know exactly what you want to say, but to be unable to speak or walk or even hold up your head. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing and you were drenched in sweat. It’s a shock you didn’t recognise you had been drugged before hearing Alfie say it.
His arm is tight around the waistline of your expensive ballgown, keeping you steady against him as he walked as quickly as he could manage while supporting your weight. He only vaguely knew the way around Tommy’s huge country house, but he did know where the man’s office was, and he’d likely have a maid in waiting there who Alfie could send to fetch him once he got you there. As you both rounded the corner into the corridor that would take you to Tommy’s office, there a man dressed like a waiter standing seemingly waiting for you. “Mister Shelby sent me to collect his sister when he heard she was overly inebriated.” The man spoke. Alfie furrowed his eyebrows tightly, but nodded and walked you closer to him. You want to protest, but your mind still won’t coordinate with your body and the most you can do is grumble. “She’s a bit hard to deal with,” Alfie admits, “So a tip you should really know for the future?“ He pauses, moving as though he’s going to pass you over to the arms of the other man. Alfie leans in until he’s only a few inches away and whispers a warning “I fucking hate liars,” before sharply drawing back his head only to but it forward forcefully into the man’s face.
He stumbles back and Alfie takes that opportunity to grab the front of his suit jacket and throw him behind the two of you with a kick to his ribs a few times for good measure. He wraps his arm back around your waist and continues on down the hall as if nothing had ever happened. “Could tell by his-fuck!”
A yelp leaves you as your legs tangled when you attempt to bare your own weight and instead clatter to the floor with a thud. Alfie grunts and you fight to open your heavy eyelids to see that a man had dove out at him from a doorway along the long hall and there were now two of them and two of you, except they were both conscious and had full control of their own bodies, whereas it fell upon Alfie to fight for both of you. The Londoner truly does not know why he has put himself in this situation for anyone, never mind for a Shelby he had only met a handful of times. But every time he had met you, you were incredibly sweet and kind to him. He knows that they’ll stop attacking him if he allows them to take you and do as they please with you, but something in him prevents him from doing that. There’s a part of him that encourages him to spit the blood from his mouth and stand in front of where you lay in and out of consciousness on the fell, ready to fight for you like he had something to lose if he couldn’t protect you. Tommy would never know Alfie was there with you if he walked away now, but something in him wants to be there. Wants to fight for you.
And so fight he does, throwing punch after punch, trying to take on two at once. Alfie managed to take the blonde assailant out of the game by cracking the wall with his blonde head of hair, leaving him out cold and potentially dying on the floor. When he does that though, his moment of glory is short lived before the other appears behind him with an arm tightly around his throat. Alfie squirms and grunts, kicks and scratches attempting to get him off, but the attacker holds on despite the blows. Alfie thinks he may well have to accept his fate.
Then he clocks you again on the floor, except this time your hands and trailing up your leg, hiking up your dress and he is utterly confused at your behaviour, thinking that it must be the drugs acting weird in your system. That is, until your dress reaches your upper thigh and the London gangster feels what he thinks may be butterflies when he spots the holster and gun that had been well hidden by your long ballgown. He would laugh, grin even if he wasn’t being strangled nearly to death. He watched with blurry vision as you try to steady your hands enough to point the gun at the attacker that was too bury trying to hold Alfie Solomons down to notice your movements. Alfie squeezes his eyes shut as you move your finger over the trigger and he hopes to God your heads are steady enough to shoot the right person.
The bang goes off and very suddenly he can breathe again. He notes that’s a good sign. He scrambles away quickly, turning around to press his foot onto the bullet wound in the shoulder of his attacker. “I will come back for you.” He growls in warning, pressing his foot harder to elicit a scream before he nods and turns back to where you stand. He wipes the blood off the bottom of his shoe on the carpet before he steps forward to swoop your gun off the floor to slip it back into your thigh holster, and then he helps you back up. Except this time, he opts to sweep you off your feet and into his arms bridal style.
“Good shot.” He notes. You breath a chuckle with hooded eyes in response, but can’t manage anything else. If you hadn’t been severely drugged, Alfie might’ve kissed you.
He makes it to Tommy’s office with ease, ordering the maid to get your brother immediately. Alfie lays you down on the soft couch in the office, placing you carefully on on your side for safety in case you’re sick. He uses the not blood tinted side of his handkerchief to wire some blood splatter and sweat from your face gently, and offers a gentle smile. “We make a good team, Solomons.” You hum with words slurred and jumped, but he understand what you said nonetheless. “That we do, Shelby.” He rumbles back in response.
The moment is as any moment of yours often is, interrupted by your elder brothers storming in. Immediately, Alfie is ripped from your side by Arthur slamming the him roughly against the wall with a loud clatter and bang. John goes to stand by Arthur’s side, and Tommy takes a knee beside you. The patriarch places his cool hand against your forehead before dipping down to place his ear just above your lips. “She’s breathing.” He concludes, “What the fuck did you do to her?” He sneers through gritted teeth as he takes steps towards Alfie.
“And why the fuck and you covered in blood.” Alfie sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and flaring his nostrils at the proximity of the three Shelby brothers. “Funny story, you see Tommy.” He grumbles discontentedly, “Seems as though someone tried after your sister right under your fucking nose, mate. Drugged her drink, removed her from the crowd. I found her wandering the halls all fuckin’ disoriented yeah. Now I don’t like a man who targets a woman, much less has to fuckin’ drug her to achieve it.” Alfie shrugs. Tommy narrows his eyes, but something in him believes what the Camden Town Gangster is saying. Alfie doesn’t have much in the way of necessity for taking you and it wouldn’t make sense for him to have the opportunity to but instead to bring you here. Right to them. “Doesn’t explain the fucking blood.” Arthur hisses, slamming his back against the wall again.
Alfie holds up his hands. “You’re little sister isn’t such a damsel as you make her out to be, Thomas. She has a fantastic shot. Some cunts-“ Alfie’s words drop with pure venom as the reminder of the man nearly strangling him to death reenters his mind, “Came after her. On that note, you’ll need a carpet cleaner and some body bags just along that hall. Don’t let the missus see that mess.”
Tommy paused for a moment, his eyes not leaving Alfie’s even when he speaks. “John, check that corridor.” He orders, making his younger brother grunt in annoyance but do as told nonetheless. “Arthur,” He grumbles, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Take our sister upstairs and get Polly.” Arthur is hesitant. Tommy might believe the words that Alfie speaks, but Arthur despises him and the only thing he hates more than Alfie is the thought of Alfie’s hands on you without any of them being there to help you, protect you. He knows that he and a Tommy are asking themselves the same question. How could something like this happen to you right beneath their noses. How had someone managed to get to when they were so close, literally right in the same room in an event organised by them. Arthur couldn’t answer the question, but could probably have killed Alfie in his rage at that moment. “Arthur,” Tommy repeats more firmly, “Go.”
This time, he listens. But that’s not without a warning glare at Alfie, who simply offers a smirk in response. “And you,” Tommy says finally, turning his attention to Alfie, “Fuck off.”
Alfie chuckles, but begins to walk past Tommy to leave the office when the smaller man grabs his arm in a vice like grip that makes the tips of his fingers tingle with the strength of it. Alfie feigns the urge to fight back in reaction to the pain. Tommy leans in close to his ear with a low snarl, “You don’t just help people. I don’t care what the reason was eh, but don’t you ever go near my sister again.”
Then he lets go and Alfie simply shakes off his arm and walks away. He hasn’t listened to Tommy Shelby any time in the past, and it appears as though today will be no different.
#alfie solomons x shelby!reader#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons prompt#tommy shelby x sister!reader#shelby reader#shelby!reader#peaky blinders blurb
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Gojo Satoru
↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x F!Reader
↠ Warning: bby gojo having heavy thoughts and sadness after everything. (pls hug) angst to fluff.
↠ a/n: ironically, his name is the title for this xD also thank you so much for the love from my recent works o(^▽^)o♡ have my love too!
↬ Word Count: 1.9k
Everyone has their beginnings. While some were blessed to start out life with good fortune and the right path, there were some who struggled through their way in living. For Gojo? He didn't really care. Not when he was already being worshipped for being born in this world, not when as a child he had barely lifted a finger before his life was already planned out for him. It was as if he was simply taking the red carpet to luxury. He already has everything. Truly, he claimed, he was indeed the honored one.
He wasn't one to be wary of his own feelings. What was there to be thought about if he doesn't know what are these stuff running through his head? Not that he should give a single mind to it.
But as he sat down at the tub of his bathroom— tweezers between his fingers, one at a time he plucks out the small shards of glass that had dug themselves onto his skin from the previous mission he was sent on solo, he started to wonder why he was staring blankly at the crimson liquid trailing down his damaged skin. Why did he felt so empty?
Maybe if Shoko were around to patch him up, he would've have had someone to pester for the day. Maybe he wouldn't have gone home to the lonesome apartment he owns, hissing at the pain from each shard taken out of his body.
Pain
That was strange. He never experienced that. Not even when he's in battle with the strongest forms of curses. No matter how many gashes of wounds he's collected, they always heal themselves quickly. It was unfamiliar that it began to frustrate him. He doesn't like it. Not one bit. It hurts. It hurts so much, yet why was there still something making his heart clench?
Loneliness. Abandonment. Broken.
Gojo was a fool for losing the only person that has come close to understanding him. If only he understood what Geto was going through; if he knew what the hell were all those troubles and emotions were maybe he would've still had his only best friend here with him. But no. It slowly came crashing down on Gojo's eyes that though he was the honored one,
He was the lost one.
A broken soul being held by strings as he was only guided to follow along the path that was planned out for him, but never what he planned for himself.
Why was he remembering all of these now? It had been years after the downfall. He should've moved on from it, be the usual cherry top, annoying idiot he was to his students and colleagues. God, he hates this. Falling, falling, falling.
Only the weak fall
Was a statement drilled into his system right from the start. The never ending worship that has earned him the title of being the "strongest" was what he kept pursuing. Believing.
Was the Gojo Satoru at his weakest point?
"Fuck." the unusually large shard of glass falls on the tiled floor, removed from the left side of his chest. Near to the scar that trails from the base of his throat and down to his navel; the reminder of why he shouldn't be left vulnerable at any cost. The hideous flaw that will forever be marked on his body, the one he desperately hides behind those prideful remarks and grinning faces. It saddens him, it hurts him, it angers him. It makes himself lose his own sanity.
The stinging started to kick in on his chest, no longer can he tell if it was from the wound or the clenching of his heart. He was strong, he was suppose and always will be strong. "Why?" the tub cracks from his grip. His free hand coming up to his eyes, eyes that people loved enough to fall in a trance— enemies crumbling and begging for mercy upon them.
Gojo felt ashamed.
Shameful. He grits his teeth hard when the small trickle of the uncharacteristic tear falls from the heavenly eye. It falls down to the porcelain surface, mixing with the trail of blood that was slowly draining down, "Why?" he finally looks down at the fatal wound, attempting to stop the bleeding with his bare hands pushing his chest. The blood smearing all over his upper body, shading the past scar that it made it look like it was there again.
"Why?"
Gojo speaks a little louder, sweating profusely as the dam inside him broke. Like an endless waterfall it was the tears fall. It made him sick. This was all not him. This wasn't the known shaman in the jujutsu world. This wasn't the boy raised from the family of the strongest. This wasn't the strongest.
"Stop."
This wasn't any of him.
"Make it stop."
Then who was he?
"Please, make it stop."
"Satoru?"
Entire body freezing. It was the first time he felt fear rushing through his veins; the fear of being seen like this. It wasn't because he didn't trust you. Good gracious, you were the last and only person Gojo ever holds onto after the years being glued together by faith and his attempts of flirting. No, he didn't want you to see this unknown person that was sitting in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Right, he forgot he was living with you.
Huh, he forgot. You were there.
There knelt down to his level, wide eyes meeting the now visible broken ones that was glossy with tears. With careful movements you raised an arm to eye level, pleading silently for permission to touch him. And for the time, Gojo was actually wary. He's faced a lot in the years spent as a sorcerer, as the strongest. Never the weakest. So when your lips curled into the same smile you'd give him during your moments of vulnerability. The cute, little curve you give when you couldn't help but just admire him or when you're about to utter out his 3 favorite words, he finds himself leaning forward to rest his cheek against the warmth of your palm. He allows the pestering tears to fall omly to be caught with your thumbs, shooing them away from his features.
"Let's get you cleaned up."
When your hand pulls away for a short moment, Gojo silently whines at the lost of contact. The tightness in his chest coming back. The feeling of abandonment crosses his head for a second before you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, holding up the tweezers he had dropped a while ago, "I'm here now."
I'm here now
That was his line. His line for when there was someone in need of help. The line that shimmers hope on the darkest moments of anyone's life. The line of the strongest. The ones who were only truly honored of saying.
Hope. It had a different form today. One that was right in front of him, plucking out every leftover shard on his body with gentleness he never got to witness as a child. The soft cooes and from time to time kisses on his scalp made his senses more focused on there rather than the stinging sensations running through his skin. Exactly how people react when there is hope.
And where there is hope,
"I love you, Satoru."
There is love.
Warm water from the shower cap started pouring down to his tensed muscles, washing out the combined dirt and blood away from him, cleansing his own form of curses that has shaken up his being. When did you finish patching him up? And why wasn't it as painful as it was when he did it?
He watches you move the small container that reeked of the scent of his blood and that inflicted his injuries far from his sight. Immediately, Gojo felt empty once more and was about to call you when you came back holding fresh towels on your hands. "Do you want me to join you?" he couldn't say yes faster than ever, almost as if he was relieved when you offered.
When you had finally stripped yourself off of your clothes and settled in between his long legs, there was nothing but the sound of the shower on echoing in the room with the two of you just staring back to one another.
Too good to be true, you were.
Gojo wanted to speak. Wanted to tell you how thankful he is that you were here to pull him away. To save his life, but all he could do was stare back into the void that of before. He sees the way your hands map around his torso in attempt to rinse him completely. Coming in contact with the old and new scar, softly tracing them as you felt his eyes wonder to yours. There was no sign of disappointment nor a hint of harm or disgust. Only something he never understood that it made him sob unexpectedly, startling you that left you pulling him into your embrace which he latches his face onto your neck and arms surrounding your body whole.
He cries.
All the frustration of not knowing whatever was happening, the mistakes he wishes to correct and the past he hoped to save along with the title he swore to maintain. It all falls on the smaller body he treasures in his arms at this very moment. He clutches, he palms, he roams. Whatever he can do just so he can fully grasp the idea that someone was there. You were there, and he wasn't alone anymore.
"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."
It would shock the world and break the hearts of many to hear these very words uttered from the mouth of the honored one. And Gojo wishes that everyone could hear it. That it would somehow reach the skies to wherever his best friend was too. To you, the person he loved the most. He was sorry that he wasn't the Gojo Satoru in your eyes.
"No, Toru. No." you push him back gently only to pull him in for a soft kiss, "I don't need you to always be the strongest. Let alone apologize for being vulnerable." he listens as he nuzzles against the palms meeting his face. The ones that held him together when he was falling apart.
His lips wobbled a bit when you land kisses on his scars, "These may not have been the good ones in your life, but these do not make you for who you are, Satoru." he hums in content when you rub down to his chest soothingly, the feeling that you has him yearning for more. Needing for more, "It's okay to be lost, and it's okay to be weak. But it'll never define you."
"I need you to be just you."
You pull him down, letting him cry all his heart out to your naked chest. He let's you have your way to him. The emotions, words, and treatment. All so unfamiliar. And he finds himself wanting. Needing more.
All his life he thought he had it all.
But never in his life has he lived it.
"What am I, (Y/n)?"
Cooing softly as the small of his voice. Like the child who never got to experience what love was. The child raised to already has to burden such responsibilities and stand. Gojo can feel himself breathe in relief as he whispers an "i love you" with a small kiss on your skin when you uttered out the words that has set his locked up self free. Free from the strings that's been taking over. The cage he was kept from all of his living.
The curse of his gift
And being honored of what he truly deserves.
"You're Gojo Satoru."
Just Gojo Satoru.
© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)
#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo fluff#gojo headcanons#gojo imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo scenarios#gojo x reader#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader
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Hi, I have an idea for Chishiya if it's okay! He have something going on with Kuina's friend, and after she didn't came back from a game everyone thought that she died, but she actually just left (she didn't want to become too attached to Chishiya maybe?) and 1 month later the militants found her and Chishiya is rather cold toward her because she left him without saying anything. Happy ending if possible, please
Thanks for requesting, here you go. Enjoy! 🥰
Home | Shuntaro Chishiya
{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}
Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Kuina, Niragi)
Summary: You run away from the beach, but soon were found by the militants again. Chishiya, your closest companion, is mad when you return for not saying anything.
Warning: mention of sexual harassment, swearing, grieving, heavy angst
Word Count: 4.8k
*reader is female
Author’s Note: I’m sorry if the ending is a bit cliché, but I really enjoyed writing this one!
“I’m so sick of this shit Kuina. She’s gone. What the hell do we do now?”
Chishiya and Kuina sat on the top roof of The Beach. Their legs were dangling over the edge, above the groups of people who sang their hearts out over the loud music. They couldn’t be down there themselves, not that night.
“It’s so unfair,” Chishiya grumbled, rubbing his stained eyes with his hands. “I hate how everyone just moves on like nothing happened.”
Kuina sniffled, trying to control her runny nose as she listened to Chishiya’s pained words. “Look Chish, it was going to happen to one of us three at some point, it just happened to be Y/N.” Kuina tried to keep her voice stable, but the occasional voice crack gave away her sadness.
“Yes I know, but it still hurts so fucking bad.”
You hadn’t returned from your game. You hadn’t returned back to Chishiya and Kuina. You hadn’t returned home.
*******
“Oi Y/N! Slow the hell down!”
You heard Kuina yell out to you from down the hall. You laughed at her desperate attempt to catch up while Chishiya walked at his own pace watching you guys.
“Why are we suddenly having a race?! We have all day to get down to the pool!” Kuina called out. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face her. “I want to get down there before the sun comes out and everyone wakes up! Don’t you want to have it just for us three for a while?”
“I suppose so,” Kuina breathed out heavily.
Chishiya’s lips pulled up into a smile as he watched you too bicker. “Oi you two. Be quiet. People in these halls are still sleeping,” he said.
Kuina turned to Chishiya and pulled a mocking bored face towards him. “Well you’re fun this morning,” she muttered in a sarcastic tone.
All three of you made your way to the pool on the bottom floor of The Beach, tripping and shoving each other playfully while giggling. You hardly ever did this together, because Chishiya always slept until noon, so you were excited about having the pool to yourselves before the sun came up.
When you reached outside, your chatters and the sound of your bare feet on the pavement broke the silence of the night. You hoped that Hatter kept the windows closed to his suite because you knew if you woke him up he would come down and beat your asses for being awake so early.
You looked over towards the pool that was still lit up with underwater neon blue lights from the night before. You’d think that they would shut all the lights off at least to save a bit of electricity, but apparently not.
Kuina had thrown her towel down carelessly on a nearby deck chair and was now chasing after Chishiya, who powered his short legs to try and escape her.
“Chishiya you’re going in the pool! You can’t chicken out forever!” she yelled as she caught up to him and wrapped her strong arms around his waist.
You could tell the years of martial arts training paid off for Kuina as she lifted Chishiya into her arms like he weighed nothing. “Bitch, put me down! I don’t want to go in the pool! Why is that such a crime!?”
You doubled over in laughter as Kuina held the cat-like blonde in her arms, him squirming more violently as she got to the side of the pool.
“Goodbye!” she yelled and dropped him into the pool. His screaming cut off as he was submerged into the water. You walked over and placed your stuff down, listening to Kuina and Chishiya bickering in the background.
It was a shame that you were planning on walking out on these guys. But in a world like this, the bad moments really outweighed the good ones.
“Alright you’re next!” you heard behind you, making you snap out of your short daze.
“Wait, no!” you bellowed as Kuina repeated the same thing she did with Chishiya. This time, it was his turn to laugh at you.
“Jesus christ woman. The fuck got you so lively this morning?” you laughed at Kuina, who gracefully dived into the pool to tease you two.
You felt Chishiya tuck his chin on your shoulder gently, taking you by surprise. “I guess we got to act as happy as we can now. Our five day visa ends tonight.” Chishiya mumbled to you two.
The air around the three of you suddenly became stiff at the mention of the games. You lifted your hand and placed it on Chishiya’s damp hair. “It’s alright, it was a fun and relaxing five days while it lasted,” you said cheerfully.
“Don’t say that like as if you’re going to die,” Chishiya scolded you. “You won’t die, none of us three will.” He was trying to reassure himself that he would come back from his game with you all happy and healthy waiting in the lobby for him. He hoped for that exact reality every time he had to leave you to restore his visa. He panicked even when you were ten minutes later than usual. It was a constant battle with anxiety when it came to caring for you in a world like this.
But unfortunately, while Chishiya was willing to fight against the growing anxiety that came with loving you, you didn’t want anything to do with it.
You and Chishiya have been as tight as two peas in a pod since Kuina introduced you. Kuina and you happened to meet at a diamonds game that was further in the centre of the city which was where you appeared in the game. She was nice enough to take you back to The Beach, because she thought that your intelligence and gentle personality would be useful.
But the plan of using you for Kuina and Chishiya’s own personal gain went out the window when both of them built a strong connection with you. They tried so hard to stop it, but in the end, they decided to make you an addition to their little manipulative games with the others. A mysterious duo became a peculiar trio.
That’s when Chishiya began to notice other things he felt.
He began feeling an irrational attachment to you, always wanting to be around you and always wanting to make sure that you were safe. You began noticing his additional little quirks as well, as soon you both fell for each other, without the other knowing of course.
Kuina obviously knew, as she was incredibly observant. She always kept her mouth shut though, wanting to see the drama play out in front of her. It was entertaining at times.
“You two are cute,” she gushed at you and Chishiya, holding a cheeky smile on her face.
Chishiya tucked his face into your neck to hide his blush, but it only made your heart skip a beat. “Shut up,” he mumbled into your skin.
You sighed heavily as he kept his place there, snaking his arms around your waist. This was honestly normal. The closer you’ve gotten with Chishiya, the less shy he’s been to convey physical affection. You loved and hated it at the same time, because you knew the more he made your heart race, the harder it would be to leave him.
At times you thought you’d rather deal with his cold and untrustworthy personality, like how he was when he first met you. It was easier to dislike him then, but now that his real personality has shown through, you realized how good of a person he actually seemed to be.
Chishiya never became close to someone, because he knew it would be hard to pull away when he needed to use them for his own survival. So he’s just always chosen to keep everyone at a distance.
You on the other hand, you hadn’t fallen down the deep whole of caring fully for someone in this world, but you knew you were about to stumble off the edge.
While Kuina and Chishiya waited to renew their visas, you waited to run away from the stress of waiting for your friend’s potential deaths.
******
You, Kuina and Chishiya trudged down the steps that led to the lobby. Hatter had called everyone to meet there a few minutes ago to prepare for the games. Hearing the familiar bell ring throughout the so-called paradise made your heart weaken. It was calling you to your end, every single time.
The trio of you took your usual place towards the back of the lobby, leaning against the cement walls and looking over everyone’s heads. How weird it felt, that by the time you gathered here next, the number of people would reduce by a couple dozen. It made your stomach sink in remorse. You truly were nothing more than soldiers fighting a war that wasn’t your own.
You looked down at your own feet, beginning to feel guilty about your plan of running away. The people you would abandon, the friends who would miss you. And even they can’t come find you, but you knew it was for the best. For both you and them.
You felt something tickle your hand. You glanced your eyes down to see that it was Chishiya, trying to sneak his hand into yours as Hatter began his booming speech across the crowd. You looked up to the blonde’s face, but he was focused on Hatter. You smiled sadly and accepted his hand into yours, earning a soft squeeze from him.
Kuina placed her head on your shoulder, leaning closer towards you. It was as if they knew, and they were trying to get you to change your mind. You felt tears building up in your eyes, but quickly wiped them away with your hoodie sleeve before anyone noticed.
Damn. You were never going to forget them.
******
Chishiya sat in the leather lounge in the lobby. He had just arrived back from his spades game. Wasn’t too difficult, for him at least.
Only now he was stressing inside, leg bouncing up and down on the carpet quickly. He knew you wouldn’t return for a good while, but yet he always was worried about you. No matter the situation.
Niragi didn’t help the situation. He strolled over earlier with a few of his militant mates and roughed Chishiya up for a bit. He honestly wasn’t in the mood for their antics, so he didn’t fight back much. They eventually got bored and walked away.
There hardly was anyone in the lobby, it was strangely quiet.
Chishiya looked towards the entrance to the lobby where a small group of people just walked in from. He recognized them as the group Kuina was placed with, so he stood up from his seat and quickly made his way over.
He managed to spot Kuina walking by herself at the back of the group. Chishiya let out a relieved sigh and strolled up to her. “Thank god you’re okay,” he said, giving her a short hug. “You too,” she replied.
They walked back over to where Chishiya was sitting beforehand and sat down. “Do you know who Y/N went with?” Kuina asked.
“No idea, I had to leave with my group before hers,” he answered.
They both sat in silence for a while, hearts squeezing in on themselves from tension.
As group after group piled into the lobby and moved to go to the back pool to celebrate their wins. While their hearts and minds were overflowing in joy of surviving, Chishiya’s and Kuina’s slowly became heavier and heavier with grief.
One of the last groups finally came back, being a few hours later than everyone else. Chishiya searched the small crowd for your familiar face, but didn’t see it.
“Kuina,” he started with a tense voice. “Don’t say it,” she immediately cut him off. “Don’t say anything Chish. She’s fine, I know it.”
That became harder and harder to believe the later into the night it got. Soon enough, no one was left in the halls and the lobby, either gone to bed or stayed out in the pool area.
Chishiya didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t feel anything. His body was tired from the constant tensing, the constant anxiety.
He stood up abruptly and looked towards Kuina, who had her head in her hands. He gave her a sad smile, and reached his hand out to help her up. “Come on, let’s go to the roof like old times,” he smiled, fighting the tears building up in his eyes.
*********
When they reached the top of the building after climbing many annoying flights of steps, Chishiya tilted his head back to feel the wind blow around his head. He opened his eyes and saw the galaxy of stars above him. ‘So weird,’ he thought to himself. ‘In a horrible place like this, such beautiful things can still exist.’
Kuina and Chishiya sat on the edge of the roof, feet dangling off the edge. Complete silence took over them. Neither of them knew what to say.
Kuina broke her gaze off the staggering height of the drop below them and glanced at Chishiya. He was staring straight ahead of him, hoodie covering his face so she couldn’t see what he was looking at.
“Chish, are you okay?” Kuina asked quietly, leaning forward to try and see his face. It felt strange to her, having Chishiya be completely silent for a change. Usually he would be making a smartass comment or a teasing joke towards her or Y/N. It was like the happiness in him had drained out.
He didn’t answer for a short moment, but then he turned his head to look at Kuina in the eyes. Kuina was taken back.
Chishiya had pools of tears cascading down his pale face, mixing with the sweat that he still endured from the game. He let out no sobs and no cries. Just dry, empty tears running down his cheeks like doves flying down the edge of a cliff.
“No, I’m not okay,” he muttered to her. “This fucking sucks.”
*******
It had been a few weeks since your death, not that there was a huge difference at The Beach from your disappearance. Everyone carried on like normal, everyone except Kuina and Chishiya.
They became secluded, more than usual. Kuina spent most of her time in the hotel’s gym, trying to distract herself from everything that happened. She wanted to get stronger so she could win games, she knew that’s what you would have wanted.
Chishiya however, he wasn’t taking your death well at all. Chishiya lost his fire, his headstrong attitude and snappy remarks. He kind of disappeared himself, but only his body stayed.
He felt stupid at times. What would he have expected? Of course you died, knowing his luck. He began irrationally thinking, believing that the world took you away because he didn’t deserve someone as warm-hearted as you. He felt cheated almost. It was like the universe had you dangling on a string in front of him, and when he finally had the courage to reach towards you, it yanked you away out of his view.
When he was having particular hard days, he would lie on his bed in his room for hours, not bothering to get up for food or the bathroom. He felt numb inside, he honestly thought nothing would be able to hurt him anymore, because he’s endured the worst of his emotions.
The mirror in his room was smashed, due to his own doing. He broke it a few days after the incident, screaming into the stuffy air of his room and throwing one of his makeshift knives at it. He watched in pain as it crackled and crumbled under the impact, seeing his own reflection fall into a million pieces, much like how he was feeling at that moment.
He had never experienced this kind of hurt before. He always thought other people were being dramatic when they broke down crying after hearing their significant other or friend didn’t make it back to The Beach. He thought that it should’ve been expected, that they shouldn’t be surprised that it happened. But he guessed you never know what another person is feeling unless you experience it yourself.
But god, does he wish he didn’t, because it hurt more than a thousand knives to his cold, stone heart.
**********
One day, Chishiya was standing on the edge of a balcony that looked over the entrance to The Beach. He enjoyed standing up there because he loved the spectacular view of the ocean. It reminded him of his real home, when he used to ride his bike down to the beach with his friends and swim in the water for hours. He missed life when it was so easy for him.
The breeze was cool on his skin, giving him goosebumps. It felt refreshing and somewhat free, a small taste of bliss for him. His eyes were shut as he listened to the crows screech in the distance and the ocean waves hit the shore. The sound of nature rang in his ears, making his endorphins swirl in his brain.
It was a good break every now and then from the usual melancholy emotions that swarmed around him, keeping his happiness locked down in chains. While he was on that balcony, actually breathing fully and normally for once, his demons decided to let loose of the chains that held his sweet happiness trapped.
Chishiya opened his dark eyes and glanced downwards towards the bottom level and saw something that caught his eye.
A group of three militants seemed to have a young woman in their grasp, one of them being Niragi himself. Chishiya watched as they tried hard to hold the smaller person at bay, as she was thrashing around trying to escape.
He frowned, confusion painting across his face. That girl, she looked oddly familiar.
Niragi told the militants to bring her around the side of the building, where a small alley was located beside the entrance. Chishiya knew that’s where the militants dragged people to kill them off, they were planning on killing her.
Chishiya wondered what she did that was so bad. Hatter hardly ever gave the order to kill someone, unless the situation was betrayal or anything worse.
He moved himself along the balcony towards where the commotion below him was occurring. He wanted to hear what they were saying, because who knows what shit Niragi gets up to without Hatter knowing. It seemed a little too suspicious to be dragging someone to their death in broad daylight, especially where everyone could see.
Chishiya heard slight fragments of what they were yelling: “You thought- … run away?!” Niragi screamed in his psychotic voice. “Let go of-...! …could have just left me there!”
Chishiya felt his heart drop. That voice, it was all too familiar. How could he have forgotten what your voice sounded like.
He lifted his head and stared forward in shock. That couldn’t be right, you’ve been dead for weeks!
He thought for a second, trying to come to a possible conclusion with the horrific yells in the background of his mind. How is it possible you could still be alive?
That couldn’t be you, it just couldn’t be. Chishiya shook his head and chuckled. “The fuck am I thinking? Great, now I’m hallucinating. No one told me that was another stage of grief.”
He turned his body to walk back inside to look for Kuina, until he heard the young woman getting attacked yell again, this time, clear as day.
“Chishiya! Kuina!”
That was it. That was definitely you.
Chishiya lifted his legs and began sprinting towards the staircase inside. There was no doubt in his mind that that wasn’t you. The way you said his name was too real to not be you.
He tripped and stumbled down the stairs, almost falling flat on his face on one flight. He had to get there before you were dead, for real this time.
As he pushed his entire body weight against the entrance doors to the hotel, he pulled a small knife out his white hoodie pocket. He had made it out of glass from his broken mirror, considering that Hatter wouldn’t allow him to have his own weapons.
Your screams were much more prominent now, more desperate sounding and more fearful. The sound pierced through Chishiya as he made his way quickly around the side of the hotel.
There you were, being pinned against the wall by two militants while Niragi held the barrel of his rifle against your chest, right over your heart.
Chishiya yelled out, which probably wasn’t the best idea considering his current situation. It was three tall men with guns against a small, frail man with a makeshift knife.
“Chishiya! The fuck you doing here?” Niragi asked with a cheeky smirk on his face. God, Chishiya wanted to punch him so bad.
“Let her go Niragi, you don’t want this to get ugly do you?” Chishiya threatened, holding his glass knife out.
Niragi laughed along with the other two militants. You still struggled against their grip, seemingly more calm with Chishiya distracting them.
“How cute ‘ey? Little blonde twink coming to save the love of his life, how sweet of you.” Niragi pressed, pushing his rifle harder against you just to push Chishiya’s buttons.
“If you haven’t noticed Chishiya, she ran away! She never died like you thought she did! She ran away from The Beach, she ran away from you!”
His words were like bullets in Chishiya’s chest. He felt belittled and mocked, he hated it.
“Shut up! She wouldn’t do that!” he yelled frustratingly.
“Oh really?! She wouldn’t?! Then explain why we managed to find her strolling the streets of Tokyo! Not a scratch on her, and she seemed smart enough to run away when she saw us.”
Chishiya’s scowl dropped on his face. He looked at you to see if you would deny it, but you had stopped struggling against the two men and hung your head low, not looking into his eyes.
He shook off the hurt he felt from this fact. He had to focus on getting you away from Niragi before he took time to think about other things.
“Niragi please. Just let go of her, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Chishiya begged. He felt small, never has he ever begged for something in his life.
“Hmm? How though? I was just about to have some fun with her before I killed her off. Why should I give that up just because you want me to,” Niragi spat at him. Your eyes widened in fear and you thrashed around in the grip that the militants had on you, panicking from Niragi’s threat.
Chishiya thought for a second. He would honestly give anything to bring you over to him. “My cards. You can take credit for every card that I collect for a couple of months. If Hatter or Aguni asks, just say I’m slacking. I’ll take any punishment they throw my way.”
You saw Niragi consider it before lowering his weapon off of your torso. You breathed out heavily in relief.
“Fine, but don’t expect me to do this again. You can’t bribe me with everything you sneaky fuck.” Niragi growled. The two militants let go of you and followed him out of the alleyway and into the entrance of The Beach.
You leant against the wall, staring at Chishiya as he stared down at the ground below him. The air between you two was tense. You could tell he was mad, Chishiya was always silent when he was incredibly angry.
“Chish, I-”
“Don’t talk to me. Just come.”
Don’t get me wrong, he couldn’t have been happier to see that you were alive and well. But the betrayal he felt from the fact that you ran away from him greatly outweighed his happiness.
He walked briskly ahead of you, you didn’t dare walk next to him or too close to him. He was scaring you a bit, and you wanted nothing but to sprint to your own room and hide from the rest of the world.
You were embarrassed and also frustrated you were caught. Trust Niragi and his cocky ass to find you.
Chishiya stopped in front of his own room, opened the door and gestured for you to walk inside. You hesitated before slowly making your way through the door. You hated how tense it was, it was the complete opposite of what you usually felt when you were around Chishiya.
You sat down on his bed, sitting in an awkward position and looked towards Chishiya. It was complete silence as he was frozen at the door, back towards you and holding the door handle harshly.
“What the fuck Y/N?” he mumbled. It was almost inaudible, but you could hear pain in his words, which made you immediately feel guilty.
“What the fuck was that? You ran away!?” he turned and yelled at you, tears building up in his eyes.
You flinched as his loud voice. You had never heard him yell in anger before, usually he kept his calm. You looked down to the ground, feeling your own eyes fill with hot tears. You felt like you were back in high school with your parents screaming at you for running away from home.
“I THOUGHT YOU DIED!” he shouted louder, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN YOU PUT KUINA THROUGH?! HOW MUCH YOU PUT ME THROUGH?!”
You couldn’t breathe. Pain and suffering dripped off his words like rain on a roof, coming together and creating an atmosphere that held air that was unbreathable. You suffocated on the oxygen, making you choke and cause tears to begin running down your cheeks.
“Why!?” he cried. “Why did you run!? There was no reason, me and Kuina could have protected you if you were too scared! Why did you think that running away was the only option!?” Chishiya stumbled closer to you, almost tripping over his own feet.
You flinched heavily as he placed his cold hands on your shoulders roughly. They were shaking from trying to hold your sobs in.
“WHY DID YOU LEAVE-” “Chishiya!” you interrupted him by snapping your head up to meet your eyes with his. His face dropped as he saw the sadness behind yours, replacing the wonderful and cheerful happiness that once swam in your eyes like dolphins in a sea.
“I l-love you,” you mumbled out between your shaky breaths. “That was the problem Chish. I-I’m in love with you and it hurt too fucking bad to know that you could disappear out of my reach at any moment. I ran because I didn’t want to watch you and Kuina die!”
Chishiya’s own hands shook violently against your shoulders. He gazed into your eyes which were red and puffy from your tears. They were shining more now than they had ever before.
“You don’t have to leave Y/N,” he whispered, still trying to control his own breathing. “I want you here, next to me. Not out there, because when you’re out there, I can’t be with you.”
You nodded and smiled sadly. Chishiya pulled his hand from your shoulder and cradled your face gently. He swiped his thumb over your cheek to get rid of the tears there. “I love you too, but I can’t be without you.”
A grin crept onto your face as you looked into his eyes. You felt safer than ever in his arms, why did you think of ever leaving?
Chishiya wiped his own tears with his hoodie sleeve and put on a happier smile. “You want to know how pathetic I am without you?” he giggled and held your hands in his.
“I almost threw myself off the top of the hotel the night you didn’t come back. Kuina had to tackle me to the ground to keep me away from the edge.” he laughed at himself.
You chuckled along with him. “Imagine if you did! What a shocker it would’ve been if I came back and Kuina saw me alive after you killed yourself because you thought I was gone!”
You both sat on Chishiya’s bed and laughed at each other. You had to do it, humour is best in times of stress and anxiety.
*********
You opened your eyes slowly, only to be met with the blinding light of the sun seeping through the blinds. You hissed and turned your head the other way.
Chishiya chucked at your reaction, making his chest that was underneath your head vibrate. “So cute,” he muttered to himself.
You pushed your face deeper into his chest and breathed in his scent. It felt good to be back with Chishiya. It felt good to be home.
Author’s Note: oKaY so this ended up being a lot longer than expected. Please send in some requests if you have any! 🥰🥰
#alice in borderland#alice in borderland imagines#alice in borderland imagine#alice in borderland one shots#alice in borderland scenarios#alice in borderland reactions#aib#aib imagines#aib imagine#aib one shots#aib scenarios#aib reactions#chishiya#shuntaro chishiya#chishiya imagines#chishiya imagine#chishiya one shots#chishiya scenarios#chishiya headcanons#chishiya x reader#kuina#hikari kuina#arisu#niragi#usagi
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We’ll Be Alright
The one where Harry and Y/n have a hard time coping without one another, and Harry finally understands what it means to be a husband
Part 1
Part 2
Masterlist
How to support me <333
-
Y/n knows she’s hit rock bottom when she pours her fifth glass of whiskey at three in the morning, lighting up her seventh cigarette on her bedroom balcony, as if furthering herself away from her right state of mind will somehow bring her closer to all the answers she had been looking for.
She doesn’t even smoke.
The last time she came this close to a cigarette was five months before she found out she was pregnant with Topher. It was the third time Harry didn’t show up to marriage counseling, and Y/n was so upset and so angry and so hurt that she couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop crying until it was in her hands.
This time, though, the shaking and the crying don’t stop.
She’s sitting on one of the balcony chairs, her elbows propped up on her knees, one hand resting at the roots of her hair and the other holding her glass in her palm and her cigarette between her fingers. Her leg is bouncing and her eyes are wet, zoning herself out from the rest of the world, trying to get as far away from herself as possible.
She hasn’t seen Harry in thirteen days.
Not only has she not seen Harry, but she also hasn’t talked to Harry or had any ties left to Harry for nearly two weeks now and Y/n can barely hold herself together anymore. She’s surprised she’s even gotten this far without him.
They aren’t divorced — the papers were left on the courtroom table practically untouched, and though she hates to admit it to herself, Y/n was the first to leave them behind — but they might as well have been.
He wasn’t even the one to pick up Topher today. And she didn’t realize how much she’d miss their traditions — even the ones they’ve made while being separated — until she saw Mitch standing at the other side of her door and watched as he buckled her son into the same carseat Harry once had in his car.
It was at that moment that she knew that even though they weren’t divorced, they really were over, and it was enough to push her over the edge.
Now she’s so drunk she can barely remember where she is. The skyline and the buildings look familiar, but everything is so out of touch she can’t find the same peace and comfort in it as she once used to.
Everything has faded to nothing.
And whether it’s from the alcohol, or the revisitation of bad habits, or if it’s from grieving the loss of somebody still alive, but everything to her feels numb. All that’s left is pain and sadness and the fear of living the rest of her life exactly like this — lost, hopeless, and alone.
She thinks back to the day she slept with Harry — as she does, she throws the last bit of whiskey down her throat and swallows it down without a flinch — and how that day was forever going to be the last day she had ever held him, had ever kissed him, had ever told him that she loved him.
If she had known — really, really known — it was going to be her last chance to do any of those things, she wouldn’t have pushed him away. She would have done all the things Harry wanted — would have spent the rest of their day in bed, drinking wine, celebrating all that once was and what always could be.
Because that’s what she wanted, too. That’s what she’s wanted since the beginning of this mess they’ve made of themselves, she just didn’t ever want to admit it.
This feeling that burns in her stomach at the thought of not being with Harry makes her want to scream. She can’t escape it, even as the alcohol seeps into her bloodstream and takes away every other feeling in her body.
She sobs, her chin tucking into her chest and her palms pressing to her forehead, agonizing and inhumane cries falling past her lips.
Her Harry is no longer hers.
She squeezes her eyes shut, a puddle of tears falling down her cheeks as she does so, her hand dropping the whiskey glass, her cigarette left sparked on the balcony floor as her fingers twist and pull at her hair. She hunches over her knees, trying so desperately to put herself back together again.
But it’s impossible. She knows it’s impossible because it’s him that makes her whole — him that holds her and keeps her together, even when everything else around her is falling apart.
She’d do anything to feel his arms around her now.
And it’s all she can think about — how lonely and cold and frigid it feels without the feel of his touch, and how loud the silence is without the sound of his voice in her ear, telling her how in love with her he is, giggling at her blush.
And she’s had so much to drink she can trick her mind into believing that he’s here, if she thinks about it hard enough. She mistakes the wind for the feel of him walking past her, smells his cologne in the liquor, but it’s still too quiet for her to really, truly believe it.
And she just wants to believe it. For once, she wants to pretend that he’s here with her, loving her, wanting her the way he always used to. Even if it’s the wrong thing to do.
Her hand shakingly reaches for her phone.
“‘Ello, this is Harry! I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your call, but I promise to return to you whenever I’m next available. Thank you, talk soon! Bye.”
And oh, how good it feels to hear his voice again.
It brings her back to all the times she’d call Harry while he was away on tour and how every phone call lasted at least two hours. Whether it was to check up on him, or to wish him goodnight, or to have phone sex, he never failed to make every second they were spending apart feel so worth it.
She calls him six more times just to hear his voicemail.
By the seventh and last phone call, Y/n is so low she’s tempted to just finish it off — down the pack of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey that have kept her more company than her husband. Maybe filling her void with vices will be enough to last her until the blackout, where she will finally be free.
But what will she have left if she does?
The loneliness and the sadness and the hopelessness will all still be there. She will still wake up to a cold bed, in an empty home, with nobody to share her life with. She will still have this sick and twisted feeling that happiness doesn’t exist outside of her Harry — that happiness doesn’t exist within these walls, miles away from him, with only herself to hold.
She can’t keep waking up without him anymore. She can hardly keep living.
So, she does the first and only thing that comes to her mind.
She calls Mitch.
The clock nearly at four in the morning doesn’t seem to strike her as her drunken fingers struggle to tap on his contact name, knowing that this is the only way.
“Mitch.” Y/n hiccups when he answers her call, watching as everything around her starts to spin out of her control, instinctively reaching her hand beside her to hold onto Harry’s — the way she always did whenever she got too drunk. Her heart hurts even worse than before when she’s met with nothing but the ache of what once was. “Come get me, please.”
Something in the air shifts around Mitch.
He has known Y/n for years now, yet he can barely recognize that it’s her voice on the phone. He has to look down at the name on his phone twice before pressing the speaker to his ear, his heart nearly still as he wonders the reason behind such a disturbing and unexpected request.
“Y/n… is everything alright?” He asks tentatively, carefully, because she’s never awake this late at night and has never sounded so hurt. “What’s happened, love?”
She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling, almost angrily.
“My husband’s been ignoring me for the past two weeks and I’m not —” She stops, sucking in a broken breath, not even believing the words she just spoke because she never believed he’d leave her all alone for so long. “I’m not taking it so well, obviously.”
Mitch sighs.
He should have known, from the second he saw the look on her face earlier that evening, that her night was going to end like this. The love she and Harry share is a kind he’s never seen before — something so far from ordinary, something he couldn’t even understand despite the love for his own girlfriend, who lays beside him so peacefully now.
Their love is more than love. It’s deeper, more soulful, as if they have found each other in every past life and every after life. They truly are, in the most unexplainable of ways, made for one another eternally. Forever, they are theirs.
It’s both a blessing and a curse — their preexisting connection— because they are everything together, but absolutely nothing apart.
“Y/n, love... he’s not ignoring you. He wouldn’t dream of it.”
Oh, how she wishes it was true.
“He didn’t even want to see me tonight. He sees me two days out of the week and he didn’t even want that. There was a time he’d do anything just to look at me for even a second.”
He wishes he knew what to say.
It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to see her — all he does is cry and whine and sulk about how he hasn’t — he just believes leaving Y/n alone is truly what’s best for her right now.
She has barely had any time away from him. Surely, she did have the weekdays to herself and Topher, but she still had to see him every weekend — still had to face him at her doorway; still had to be around him, even on her worst days; still had to be reminded of everything that had gone wrong.
Being around him confuses her. He knows that now, and so does Mitch. But Mitch always knew. Y/n has always been too in deep with Harry. One proper look at him would be enough to send her to her knees.
He’s her greatest weakness.
She needs to be alone.
Or, so he once thought.
“Have you been drinking?”
Y/n laughs in an almost sarcastic way, the side of her wrist pulling at the corner of her eye as she wipes away at her tears.
“Drinking, frying my brain with nicotine, crying my fucking eyes out.” Her lips tremble as she stuffles away a cry. “All of the above.”
Mitch frowns.
This behavior isn’t unusual for her — it hasn’t been since her marriage with Harry started to turmoil — but it never gets easier to witness.
It’s when she’s in the depths of her own hell that she depends on the intoxication to get her by, as if it numbed her from all the pain she’d be living with without it. And as hard as it is for him to admit it, she only ever feels this way whenever it comes to Harry.
This side of her never existed until she met him.
“You want to see him, don’t you?”
To see him. To touch him. To talk to him. To hold him. She wants it all, everywhere, for the rest of the night — for the rest of her life if he were to let her.
But she can’t get ahead of herself. She won’t be able to survive it if she does.
“Even if it’s just for a second.”
His heart falls.
“Will it get you to put down the drugs and alcohol?”
Her eyes linger at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and though it still calls for her just as strongly, she knows it’s not what she truly wants.
“Yeah.”
She can hear him smile softly through the phone.
“Then hang tight, love. I’m on my way.”
-
Harry hasn’t been able to sleep all night.
And if he wanted to get technical, he supposes he hasn’t been able to sleep since he and Y/n nearly signed their marriage away, but tonight is far, far worse than anything else he’s ever felt.
His body senses his good days. The sun somehow brighter, the rain lighter, the clouds thinner — he sees it all so differently on the days he goes to see Y/n. He’s used to the routine, he looks forward to it all week, even if it is just to see her for a couple minutes at her doorway.
So to say his body feels the loss of her is an understatement.
He caught himself reaching his hand over to her side of the bed one too many times, only to shiver and whine when met with the emptiness of it. His fingers would squeeze at her pillowcase, hugging it closer to him, fantasizing about her smell and her feel as he tried to drift into his dreamland — that only, of course, consisted of her.
But it was helpless.
He moves to the living room couch, where he finds himself flipping through the photo album of their wedding day — the same one he claimed he had thrown out when Y/n asked if she could keep it, moments before she was about to move out after he had brought the divorce papers home.
Of course he hadn’t thrown it out, but he could never tell Y/n about the lies he only told to make himself feel better about his decision.
He was angry and he was hurt, both of which consumed him in the scariest and most dangerous of ways, leading him to sink his teeth in a lie and spitting it in her face just to make her feel all those things, too. Though he’s sure she already did.
But as he flips through the pages now, reliving that day torturously in his head, remembering how beautiful she looked and how in love he was, he can’t help but feel like these moments weren’t his to take.
He had kept their home — had kept the furniture they bought together when they first moved in, kept all the movies and cd’s they’d play together each night, kept all the pictures she had chosen for the walls and tables he hadn’t had a clue on how to decorate.
He stayed so perfectly in their past while she was forced to move on, away from him, when she wasn’t even the one who wanted to leave.
He had truly taken everything from her — her love, her trust, her marriage, her home — and he didn’t even have the decency to give her the one and only thing she had asked for before she left.
That day was hers, it always has been and it always will be. She never once gave up on it the way he once had, always holding it so close to her, always cherishing its moments.
This simply doesn’t belong to him.
He presses his forehead down to a picture of Y/n wildly smiling at the camera, her hair styled up, makeup slightly smudged, as if holding her to him. And he rubs his thumb along the laminate, right against her cheek, in the same way she always liked.
“I’m so sorry.” He sobs out before he can try to reason that it’s not her, that she can’t hear him, that she can’t feel the way he’s holding and touching her right now, that he looks like a lovesick idiot for thinking this is anything close to the real thing.
None of that matters to him right now, though, as he holds the picture to him and realizes this is the closest he has been to her in so long. And she needs to know.
She just needs to know.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
-
Harry must have cried himself to sleep because the next thing he knows, his front door slams open against the foyer wall, julting him off of the photo album and leaving him with dry and confused eyes.
Without much of a second thought, he throws the photo album off his lap and stands frantically from the couch, his head twisting around in an attempt to follow the footsteps scurrying towards the living room.
He knows it’s her just from that sound alone.
“Y/n?” He calls out in question, still delusional from his sleeping state, wondering if he had even woken up at all.
But it’s when he sees her stumbling toward him with soaken and beaten eyes that he knows this isn’t just a dream — that she really is here, back in their home, with him at last. And he would be happy, would be so goddamn happy to have her in front of him again, if she didn’t look so broken.
He can’t stand the sight of her like this.
“Y/n?” He asks again, devastated.
But she doesn’t answer him. Rather, she does the one and only thing her mind can make sense of now that he’s in front of her again.
Her trembling hands cradle the back of his neck before pulling her to him, their lips meeting for a sloppy, drunken, frenzied kiss — one that nearly has Harry falling to his knees before her.
She pushes him onto the couch, barely giving him any time to compose himself before she sits herself down on his lap and kisses him again, hard — harder than before and harder than she ever has, she thinks.
Teeth clattering, tongues battling, mouths opening, lips smothering. It’s desperate and messy and sloppy, but she doesn’t want it any other way.
She knows this feeling. She wants this feeling. It’s what she keeps going back to because it’s safe and warm and familiar. She could be in the middle of nowhere, lost with no direction or any sense of belonging, yet the feel of his lips on hers would somehow make her feel at home, just the way she is.
She moans against him, her hands splayed on the back of his head and neck as if to keep him there — on her, with her.
His hands, however, don’t know where to go. They switch between her arms and her thighs, setting boundaries for himself because he’d give into her in a heartbeat if he were to touch her just right. And he’s already doing so much he shouldn’t, he’d ruin himself if he were to go any further.
So as a subtle way to slow it down, he drags his lips down to her chin before leaving open-mouthed kisses along the shape of her neck — devouring her taste, savoring the sweetness.
He’s missed this. He’s missed her, so much so he can’t even remember the reason he let it all go. Right now, in this moment, nothing seems worth it enough to ever give this up.
He can hardly think straight.
“Y/n, please don’t do this to me…” Harry whines against her collarbone, her touch and smell and feel overwhelming him beyond all forms of comprehension. “This isn’t you. We’ve been here before and —”
“And I want to make it right this time.”
He nearly cries.
He bites down gently on the base of her throat, nibbling at it, a strangled whine falling from his lips as his hands slither to her back, pushing his body up against hers as if to bring her closer. And he growls silently to himself as she starts grinding herself against him.
“Y/n —”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Baby…” He tries again, to which she giggles and smiles as she nibbles on the lobe of his ear. He gets lost in it for a moment — to hear her laugh, to feel her hands rub along his chest and up his neck, to have her so close, like nothing ever happened — but he snaps himself out of it just as quickly as he fell into it. “You’re drunk.”
He tries to reason, to make her see that he does want this, more than anything else in the world, but he can’t. Because if it were to happen again, he wants it to be real. He wants her to mean it, to need it, to be all in it with him the way he’s all in it with her.
He wants her to stay.
“I’m only drunk because I miss you so much.” She confesses breathlessly to him, to which he groans and throws his head back, as if he were in pain. “So give me what I want and nothing else will matter.”
His hands find purchase to her hips, his fingers squeezing at the flesh of them as he tries to steady the movement of her groin against his, desperate to hold himself together. But she makes it so hard when she knows exactly where and how to touch him — when she knows that he can never resist her all over him, begging for more.
His eyes are pinched forward and closed, his head still hanging off the edge of the couch, words seeming to fail him as she moans against his shoulder, sinking her teeth into the flesh of it as she works herself harder against him.
“Fuck, you know I want to.” He croaks out, his hands giving into their urge to wander every dip and curve and inch of her, even the places he shouldn’t. “You know I do.”
Good, she thinks. I want you to want it. I need you to want it. I want you to want it so bad you give it to me all night, all morning, all day. I need you to want me.
She lifts her head up from his shoulder so that she can look at him with a winning smirk, both of her hands fisting at the collar of his t-shirt to steady herself upon his lap, her movements now smooth and effortless, giving him everything he needs to give in.
He lets out a proper moan at this, allowing himself a moment of weakness to feed his undying greed.
His mouth hangs open and practically drools as he touches her in ways he’s been aching to, rubbing himself against her, allowing her lips to wander anywhere and everywhere they craved.
It all feels so good and all so right, he wishes it was enough to make things work, but he knows in his heart that it isn’t.
Not now, at least.
“But I can't — I can’t take advantage of you. I — oh, fuck!” He yelps from below her when her arm sneaks between them so her fingers can scratch at the skin of his upper inner thigh, mercilessly giving him everything that has ever made him feel good.
And it’s all too much.
One more right touch in the right place and he’s done for, as pathetic and weak as that makes him. But it’s only for her. Only for her does he find himself shuddering and moaning and creeping on the edge for, one push away from falling off, waiting to be caught by her.
After all this time, after all they had been through — all the fighting, all the tears, all the downs and lows they’ve lost themselves in — she still consumes him whole. She still is and forever will be the only person he’ll ever love like this.
There is nothing and nobody else. There is only her.
Which is why he can’t let himself do it. He can’t let her do it.
So right before he reaches the end, his hands frantically grab onto hers and pin them down against each side of his legs, her forehead meeting his shoulder, her body collapsing onto his.
“No!” He bites through clenched teeth and shut eyes, his hands squeezing hers as his body ricochets back to reality, yet still holding her close. “No, no, fuck. No.”
And whatever remained of Y/n’s heart burns to a crisp at that one godforsaken word.
Harry never denies her.
Even at their lowest and darkest moments, her simple touch made him powerless. He succumbed to her even when he told himself he wouldn’t, gave into her touch like a drug he couldn’t get off of no matter how hard he tried, drowned in her love even when he swore he no longer craved it.
It’s the very reason Y/n found herself pregnant in the midst of their downfall. Harry never stopped wanting her.
She should have known that everything was different now, but she never expected it to be like this.
“Oh.” Y/n’s lips tremble, her eyes wide with woe, glossy with burning tears as she looks at him through slow blinks. “I get it, I —”
“Y/n…”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”
She’s nearly sobbing now, her breaths heavy and frantic as she pushes herself away from him, practically falling off of his lap. And if his head wasn’t so clouded from what had just happened between them, he wouldn’t have let her go.
She’s a mess, a kind he’s never seen in her before and it breaks him in two when he sees her face soaked in tears, her hands trembling as they push her hair back, her eyes looking at everything but him.
He is just so sick of her looking away from him, and so tired of watching her cry.
He never wanted this.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Harry speaks softly, his hand reaching out to grab ahold of hers before she has the chance to walk out on him again. And the shock of his touch is enough to bring her right back to him. “Baby, this is your home more than it is mine. Your son is here, I am here, don’t ever think you have to be sorry for wanting to come home.”
She’s silent for a moment, trying to make sense of his words and what they mean. But it’s so hard to focus on anything other than how good it feels to be holding his hand, and how that’s all it took to get the room to stop spinning around her.
She trusts him.
Whatever he wants out of this and whatever he’s thinking, she trusts. Her body wouldn’t be so reliant on him if she didn’t. And it’s been years since she’s felt this feeling she feels so fiercely now, but she could never mistake it. It was once the most familiar feeling in the world to her.
He rubs at her knuckles, patiently waiting for her to respond. But she doesn’t, her gaze just drunkenly fixated at their intertwined fingers, a hint of longing in her eye.
Even when he’s right here, holding her, convincing her to stay… she still feels as though he isn’t all hers. She wants more of him, as if she hasn’t seen and touched and loved every inch of his body and claimed every last beat of his heart.
She is the only one and yet she feels as though she’ll never be enough for him, after all this time, after all these years spent together. It makes him feel like the worst person in the world.
He lifts her hand up to his lips, as delicate and gentle as possible, just the way she likes.
“And as for kissing me.” He adds, eyes looking up fondly at her as he kisses at her knuckles one by one. “You’re my wife, it’s what I want. I just don’t want us to make the same mistakes we once did.”
He settles her fingers against his mouth for a moment longer before pulling her closer to where he sits, looking insistently in her hopeful eyes.
“If we sleep together… it’ll only drive us more apart, just like it did the last time. And I swear to god —” he hangs his head off the edge of the couch again, his fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose, trying to fathom the idea of it. “If I have to go another day without seeing you, I’m going to fucking lose it. I’m fucking miserable.”
She knows it’s true. Whether she wanted to hear it or not, sleeping together without speaking to one another would only bring them back to the same dark, numbing cycle they’ve been through for far too long now.
But she wants to milk it — wants him to do whatever he can to get her to stay because she needs to know he really wants it, needs to know he really wants her, before it’s too late.
And when Harry lifts his head back up to look at her, his heart nearly explodes from within him.
“Come here.” He tugs softly on her hand, a small smile playing on his lips when he sees Y/n pouting down at him with furrowed brows — the same face she used to make whenever she wanted to be angry with him, but couldn’t. It brings him back to all their happiest times. “Come here!”
He pulls her down to him until she lands on his lap, both of them laughing as she nearly trips over her own two feet.
The moment stills when their eyes meet, however, the giggling dying down and their smiles falling as they captivate each other with just a single look.
His fingers move her hair out of her face, his palm resting on the side of her cheek, his thumb rubbing along the skin of her blush as he admires just how beautiful she’s gotten since the last time he had seen her.
And she does the same to him — her fingers pulling at his hair, dancing along his scalp, humming in admiration as her eyes wander every dip and curve of his face. He is just so perfect, it endlessly mesmerizes her.
“I’ve missed you.” She confesses softly, her gaze trained on his lips, her tongue poking out to lick her own.
“I’ve missed you so much more, my love.”
And they meet for a kiss — a real kiss this time. Not the hungry, desperate, fevered kisses they’ve been sharing since their separation. It’s slow, their lips just settling against each other’s, refusing to move, only leaning in deeper when desired.
It’s how he kissed her on their wedding day.
She remembers how different it was, now, as she feels it again — full of vows and promises, hopes and dreams, a hint of sorrow for all the times he had let her down, and how he’d never wish to do it again.
Quite truthfully, she never wants it to end. She could stay pressed against his lips like this all night and never once get tired of it — would probably beg for more if it ever came down to it. But she doesn’t have to anymore, she knows that now.
They both pull away together, dopey and loopy smiles painted on their faces. And it doesn’t get better than this.
“Can I show you something?” He whispers to her, his thumb pets at her temple, circles and circles. “And know that when I give it to you, it’s me trying to make this right again? No matter how much it hurts?”
His breath falters when her lips press gently against his wrist, humming a small “mhm” against the skin of it.
She always did that whenever she could. Whether he be holding her cheek, or rubbing at her head, or running his fingers through her hair, her lips would seek just the smallest bit more of him. And it always warmed him to feel it. It reminded him that yes, she did in fact love him and want him and need him with the same burning he has for her.
It always felt too good to be true.
And to know that she’s feeling it all over again makes every worry in the world collapse around him, leaving him with nothing but the life he had always desired with her, and the hope that it only gets better from here.
He smiles in endearment, his own lips seeking the sole of her cheek before he turns his body to the fallen photo album, his fingers shaking as he reaches for it.
She gasps before he even has the chance to sit up fully.
“Is that —” she stops before she finishes, her hand flying over her suddenly trembling lips because it is.
He looks at her with eyes full of regret as he holds the photo album out for her to take, but she’s in too much shock. All she can process is that it’s here, still alive in the home they once shared, not shredded and burned and broken like she always thought it was.
And it just doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that over a year ago, he told her a lie that ripped her apart from the inside out every day since he’d spoken it. It doesn’t matter that all she had left of their wedding were the moments captured in her memory, to which she went back to every night before bed.
It just doesn’t matter because she’s just so happy to see it again — so, so, so fucking happy that she can’t help but sob into her palm, admiring it, somehow at peace with the idea of reuniting with it with her husband right beside her, shedding the same tears as she is.
All she has ever wanted is happening all at once, and she couldn’t ask for more.
“Can we look through it?” She sniffles, her fingers graciously running along the cover of it.
He pulls her in closer, his head nodding, a breathy laugh of euphoria falling from his lips.
As if she even had to ask.
-
It was the next morning that Harry decided he couldn’t do it anymore.
Upon waking up to an empty bed, there wasn’t this overwhelming sense of sadness rippling through him, or loneliness drowning him to his duvets, refusing to set him free. It felt… right, and warm, and safe, and like it had always meant to be this way.
He was weightless as he carried his naked body over to his dresser, where he slipped on a new pair of briefs and one of his plain white t-shirts. He even found himself humming a tune he only ever sang to on good mornings.
And it was when he made his way downstairs that he started to hear his company.
He found Y/n in his day old t-shirt, holding Topher at her hip, flipping pancakes at the stovetop, humming and bouncing to the beat of a song they played during their wedding ceremony.
Her hair was unbrushed, her nail polish chipped, one of her socks pulled too high and the other too low, in her most hungover state. And the world stopped turning then, it seemed. Because it was the most simple and most casual sight to see, yet something he was once so blinded to.
He finally felt at home.
And it was as if nothing else had ever really, truly mattered. His world simply revolved around the two littles ones in his kitchen, getting their hands messy with pancake batter, giggling with every other step they took.
And he knew he couldn’t do it anymore.
Which is exactly how he ended up here — seven hours later, standing on one knee in front of his wife, whose hand fits so perfectly in his.
She sits cross-legged upon the kitchen chair, her plate half empty and on her second glass of her mocktail. And if he had more preparation, he would have taken her out instead of settling for her favorite home cooked meal. But something about doing this here, in the home they once shared together, at their happiest hour, feels much more real to him.
“H? What are you doing?” Y/n asks with wide eyes, looking down at their intertwined hands, squeezing onto his tighter.
“I know we’re already married, but I needed to do this anyway.”
He sucks in a breath as the pad of his thumb passes through her knuckles, slightly flicking her engagement ring in the process.
“When I left earlier, it wasn’t for work. I mean, it was for work but not — but not in the way you may think.”
Y/n tilts her head down at him, her eyebrows furrowed. Her heart races with all the endless possibilities, the pit in her stomach falling with it. And she really does try to not seem worried, but she can’t help but let it crash over her.
She had just gotten her husband back. Finally, she’s his and he’s hers and that’s all she ever wanted. That’s all she ever needed, so how is she expected to say goodbye so soon?
How would she ever survive it?
“I terminated the contract.”
Her heart stops beating.
Her body sits frozen still as Harry bites at his bottom lip, where he hides a smile.
This truly is it — the beginning of their forever, the start to the life they always wanted to share alone, with no distractions, no obligations, no anything besides each other and their child — and he doesn’t want it any other way.
“I’m done with having a career that takes me away from you. And I’m so sick and tired of pretending like this is the life I wanted to have with you. It wasn’t, baby. It isn’t.”
But she just can’t believe what she’s hearing.
The words had translated yet somehow, she can’t make sense of them. She can’t make sense of anything as her mind twists and turns around what they could mean and what it could mean for them as a couple.
“You — you terminated the contract? I don’t — I don’t understand. I —”
"If it were ever to come down to you or my music, I’d choose you in a heartbeat.” The fingers of his free hand twist at her wedding band, hypnotizing her. “I did it all for you — the writing, the touring, the traveling. My future with you was all I ever cared about and yet, I had somehow convinced myself that my music meant more to me, when it never really did.”
Her breaths get deeper and deeper, completely and utterly overwhelmed. And if it weren’t for the tears of happiness leaking from her eyes, Harry wouldn’t know what she’s truly feeling inside.
But he knows. Oh, how he knows.
“I choose you, Y/n. And I choose Topher and I choose our Alaskan home everyday for the rest of our lives. That’s what I choose. That’s what I will always choose.”
It’s those words that make her really start to lose it.
How long she had been waiting for this moment, she can’t even remember anymore. So much time has passed and yet everyday, she dreamed and hoped and prayed and died to hear him say that to her.
She had been waiting for so long, she once believed them to be impossible.
But here he is on one knee again, sacrificing his entire life and heart and soul just to make their marriage right. He wants to leave the music behind rather than leaving her to be all alone. He wants to move away from the life he had built for himself and rather spend the rest of it with her.
He wants her, for the first time in what feels like centuries, he finally wants her.
“But — but you — how? How did you — what did you do?”
“Don’t worry about the how, okay? What matters is that I made it work and I have more than enough to last our family a lifetime. I promise you that.”
One of her hands reaches forward to cup at his cheek, pulling herself closer to him because she needs to feel him, all of him — needs to feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart, the warmth of his breath.
She needs it all, all around her, until she drowns in it.
“Don’t care about the money, just — just want to make sure you’re okay.”
His wife is reaching for him, pulling him in, wanting and loving him despite everything he put her through… how could he not be okay?
He’s on top of the world right now.
“Baby, I’m so much more than okay. I have you, don’t I?” She nods her head as she wipes her tears away, sniffling with trembling lips and shaking hands. “Then that’s all I need.”
She sobs against him, her face tucked in his shoulder as he holds her hands between them, kissing at her head.
And sometime in the near future — when Harry and Y/n have found everything they had lost, have grown to be better together than ever spent apart, and have become the best parents they could ever be to their son — he’ll rent out a small venue in the outskirts of town and renew his wedding vows to his wife, whom he plans to never be parted from, even in death.
“So, Y/n, baby love.” They both giggle at the pet name, her head lifting from his shoulder and meeting his eye halfway. “Will you please do the honors of being my lawfully wedded wife, and the mother of our disgustingly perfect child, in our home in Alaska? Forever?”
She nods her head, her thoughts clouded by euphoria, her hand still in her husband’s.
As if he even had to ask.
#THIS REALLY TOOK ME FOREVER#THE WRITERS BLOCK WAS REAL HERE#BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ANYWAYS :D#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines
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