Ā Ā Ā Ā Youāre rudely woken up by something crashing down in the kitchen next to you. Blearily blinking the sleep away, you decide to investigate the source of the commotion. Itās quite early in the morningāthe curtains of the guest room youāve slept in havenāt been moved, which means your host didnāt want to disrupt your rest.
Ā Ā Ā Ā You enter the kitchen, dragging your feet, and youāre met with the sigh of Atsumu kneeling on the floor in front of a broken mug. In front of him, back turned to you, his wife is scolding him gently and by the pout on his face, he doesnāt enjoy itāhowever he beams when he sees you, whispering something.
Ā Ā Ā Ā In a matter of seconds, Minty turns around with a bright smile and you reciprocate with a sleepy one.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āOh, youāre awake! You must be hungry,ā she points out. āTake a look in the fridge and see if thereās anything that you like.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā On the FRIDGE thereās a GROCERY LIST and a magnet-pinned PHOTO of your hosts and their friends.
hi everyone. my grandpa is dying and we need to pay for his medical bills/hospice/potential funerary costs. here is a link to d0nate < 3 pls pls pls reblog to spread
ā synopsis: youāve always been his strongest pillar.
ā character(s): oikawa tÅru
ā warnings: angst to fluff, dissociation, talk of negative feelings (envy, hate, self-loathing, self-doubt), depressive episodes, spiraling???
ā word count: 2192
ā notes: hi itās been 84 years, i know i know. im not back, just here to share this piece, bc i love it. enjoy.
Ā Ā Ā The incessant buzzing makes his head spin.
Ā Ā Ā Itās not like thereās much going on in there anywayāall he knows is that he feels sick for some unknown reason. Or maybe the reason is known, but he doesnāt want to admit it. Especially not now, when his entire world crumbled and fell apart, and all of it happened because of himself.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is weak.
Ā Ā Ā At least, thatās what he tells himself.
Ā Ā Ā He could have done so much moreāhe could have set better, he could have positioned a bit further, he could have used a tad more force. All of that seems to be in the past; a past so distant it makes him zone out. Hasnāt he been doing this for a little while now? Probably. He canāt process the passage of time, eyes still boring into the back of the red and white shirts of his rivalsāthe victors.
Ā Ā Ā In retrospection, maybe he should have anticipated the outcome. With his ankle bothering him again and a whole set benched, as well as a few missed calls that Japan really took advantage of, this loss was unavoidable.
Ā Ā Ā It could have been prevented, he keeps berating himself in his head. You should have tried harder.
Ā Ā Ā His hands curl into fists at his sides as he passively watches Japanās team celebrate their victoryātheir advancement on the world stage. Something he could have achieved; he should have achieved, had it not been for the plethora of mistakes that he realizes heās made. How ironic, the game replaying in his head over and over like a broken record and pointing out every individual flaw in his actions. All while Japan seems to have had a perfect match.
Ā Ā Ā The buzz intensifies until it makes him flinch. Beside that, there seems to be only him on the courtāheās alone, surrounded by his mistakes and failures, coming to bite at his ankles, crawling on his skin as if trying to grab him and pull him underground. Bury him in the rubble and remains of the empire he built from the ground upāonly to be burned to ashes in the blink of an eye.
Ā Ā Ā A hand on his shoulder reminds him that he isnāt, in fact, alone. The shrill sound of the whistle rings in the airāand in his earsāand heās dragged from the spot heās been standing in since he jumped to block the last ballā
Ā Ā Ā āthe last ball.
Ā Ā Ā It stares mockingly back at him, rolling aimlessly on the floor before a boy picks it up and places it in a cart. Tooru canāt blame the ball. The only person to blame here is himself, for doing too many things and nothing at all at the same time. Heās pulled out of his thoughts by his captain patting his back.
Ā Ā Ā Tooru shakes Wakatoshiās handānot like he has a choice. He bows politely to show his respect, but every movement is stiff and robotic. He doesnāt talk, not a single word; he doesnāt trust his voice. He feels like bursting when he has to shake Tobioās, but he manages. Hajime throws him a sympathetic look, and he blinksāhe never asked for sympathy.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He never asked for pity.
Ā Ā Ā Thanking the audienceāhis fansāfor the support feels like a walk of shame. He would have been happy to sign cards and posters, maybe even take a few photos, but now he brushes past everyone in an attempt to get to the locker room as fast as humanly possible. The idea of people seeing him, seeing his mistakes, taking pity on him, it makes bile rise in his throat. Nobody understands what happened to his usual, cheerful demeanor. But nobody understands how much effort heās put into thisāblood, sweat, tears, opportunities taken and ignored, all nighters, years of crafting and refining and perfecting his techniqueāand for what? It feels like everything has been in vain. A waste of time, of energy, of resources.
Ā Ā Ā Maybe volleyball wasnāt for him. Maybe it has never been for him in the first place.
Ā Ā Ā But now heās here; defeated. His dream is crushed, his ambition trampled, his motivation vanished into thin air.
Ā Ā Ā Pathetic.
Ā Ā Ā The shirt feels tight on him, or maybe thatās his chest constricting while he tries not to cry just yet.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is a coward.
Ā Ā Ā Or, at least, thatās how he feels when he announces his retirement at only 28 years old, after barely playing professionally. His Olympic course was atrocious and he wants nothing more to do with volleyball. Not after the biggest fuck up of his life, not after wasting so many and so much on it.
Ā Ā Ā You watch him engross himself in old gamesāwhere everything was fine. Where he was the victor, and his time and life hadnāt been wasted and carelessly thrown away. He observes his form, his footwork, his breathing, and compares it with the last match of his career. He mutters, writing in a ragged notebook, ripping off pages and roughly scribbling over things that donāt seem to fit his taste.
Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt been eating, which was a cause of a lot of concern to you, but when he gets into things like this, he wonāt hear you. Sometimes you ask yourself if he even wants to hear youāor if he just ignores you on purpose. After all, you did encourage him to take opportunities and stay late to practice, to expend more energy on an inevitable failure.
Ā Ā Ā Sometimes you think it might be your fault, but you push the thought away to focus on him. For you, love has always been a choiceāa mutual choice. You choose to love him, and he chooses to love you, each day. You know, deep down, that he still loves you. He will never stop loving you, not with the way he clings onto your arm when you help him bathe or how he blinks slowly, trying to understand where he is, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight of your face.
Ā Ā Ā Heās still your Tooru. He just needs to wake up from his slumber.
Ā Ā Ā Three weeks pass by painfully slowly, but they do. Youāve created a little routine for yourselfāand, subsequently, for Tooru. You check on him when you wake up, having gotten used to the cold side of his bed. You know heās on the couch, either passed out from exhaustion or still watching his games. Then comes breakfast, where you place a light meal on the coffee table, knowing his stomach will demand food, while you go about your day. Neither of you speak a word; not because you donāt want to, but because the silence has become comfortable. The tension youāve felt before, almost dripping off of his shoulders in the first few days after his defeat (and again after the announcement of his retirement), is just a faint memory in the back of your head.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt snapped at you in a few days eitherāwhich is quite the improvement, as opposed to the way heād almost slap your hand away from him when you wanted to make sure heās comfortable, right after everything went down. So youāre gratefulāa small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Yet, he doesnāt understand why.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Surely, him being an asshole and snapping at you for wanting to help, pushing you away and everything he has done since that one last game ended, would determine a normal person to leave, right? Theyād get fed up with his attitude, pack their bags and leave himāalone and undeserving, as heās been thinking of himself over the weeks.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Weak, ungrateful and useless, a burden; one might even call him a brat.
Ā Ā Ā Ā And you remain.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Everything clicks in place when he wakes up one morning, surrounded by warmth and softnessāheās in your shared bed, a place he hasnāt touched in four weeks. Four full, horrific weeks that you had to spend all alone in this giant bed. He canāt even begin to fathom your pain. And heās the cause of it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The guilt eats him alive.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Youāre in your usual spot at the kitchen table, reading a book youāve grabbed from the shelf on your way there. Youāre oddly calm, Tooru thinks, but then againāyouāre obviously tired. Thereās so much energy someone can expend while taking care of anotherā¦ Emotional, mental and physical.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name softly.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The sound is foreign, after all this time in silenceāwhen only the door hinges and gently clacking mugs filled the houseābut itās warm. Familiar, even. He remembers why he loves your name so much.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name again, just as soft as the first time.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Another reminder as to why he loves your nameāand youāis the smile blooming on your lips. Thatāsā¦ He missed it. It feels like his dark, dull grey world brightened. A splash of color, the delicate touch of a butterfly. River rock skipping. A soft tune hummed in the car, on your way back from Okinawa.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru sits down as you place the book on the table.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āIām sorry.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā His first words in weeks are an apology. He doesnāt know what exactly he is apologizing for, but he does. Thereās so much he has to apologize for, now that he thinks about it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āDonāt be. I understand.ā Your voice is softāsofter than he remembers. Maybe because you havenāt used it much lately? Or because youāre afraid heāll jump out of his seat and stomp his way back into the bedroom to lock himself in there if you so much as raise your tone one decibel too high. He cringes.
Ā Ā Ā Ā This is his fault, too.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt get it,ā he mutters. āIāve been an absolute bitch to you for four weeks. And thatāsā¦ Thatās a lot of time. A whole lot of time. And any other person would have left. You knowā¦ Pack their things, grab a cab, throw a few insults on their way out and justā¦ Poof.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā You giggle. His heart clenches painfully in his chest, thinking about how he stripped the world of your joy, because he was selfish.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYes, well, Iām not just any person. Iām your spouse, Tooru. We promised each otherāthrough sickness and health, through good times and bad, remember?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā He does. And heās ashamed he couldnāt keep his side of the promise. āEven so! You had every right to be mad at me. To, I donāt know, lash out? I know it has been hard andāā He takes a deep breath, tears gathering on his waterline and making his eyes sting. āAnd Iāve only made it worse. Itās beenā¦ Itās been four weeks. Where I left youā¦ Alone. You had to care for me like I was handicapped.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd I did it. Because I love you.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt deserve your love. Not after what Iāve put you through.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āNo, Tooru. Youāre wrong.ā The conviction in your voiceābecause you know youāre right about thisātakes him by surprise. āYou deserve to be loved, now more than ever before. I told you, love is a mutual choice. Every day, I choose you.ā You smile again, and for a brief second Tooru thinks this might all be a dream. āAnd I know, even if you didnāt say or show it, that you chose me too.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thereās a beat of silence, where Tooru carefully considers his next words. āI did.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd we made it work. It was certainly difficult at first,ā you joke, perpetually serene even in your fatigue. āBut I couldnāt abandon you. Not after all weāve been through. Because I love you too much to do such a cruel thing.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thatās something Tooru has always admired in youāyour resilience (or stubbornness, heās not sure). You stuck to your devices, as if knowing better than those around you. Heās sure the gossip about him might have become too much to bear at some point.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He moves before he can think.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Itās not much; just the tender touch of his hand on top of yours. But itās definitely a start.
Ā Ā Ā Ā A small victory; but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI love you too,ā he finally whispers, letting the tears finally flow, releasing the burden heās been unnecessarily carrying over the past weeks. Tooru feels lighter, as if he can finally breatheāand when he looks at you, heās almost blinded by the sight of your smileābright, like the sun. His sun. āIāll be better. For you; for us. I promise.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āMr. Oikawa, can you tell us what made you change your mind about declining any and all interviews after your official retirement announcement?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru chuckes, his trademark, boyish grin adorning his freckled face. āMy spouse. If thereās one person on this earth that can sway my will, itās my spouse.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYou seem to love them quite a lot.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āThat would be an understatement, honestly. Theyāve been through so muchāactually, I put them through so muchāthat āloveā is a weak word to describe my feelings. Itāsā¦ā He hesitates for a second, humming, before he snorts. āThey bring out the best in me. And I cannot be grateful enough for what they have done so far for me. I just hope I can repay their kindness, dedication and love in full, in this life or the next one.āĀ
ā synopsis: youāve always been his strongest pillar.
ā character(s): oikawa tÅru
ā warnings: angst to fluff, dissociation, talk of negative feelings (envy, hate, self-loathing, self-doubt), depressive episodes, spiraling???
ā word count: 2192
ā notes: hi itās been 84 years, i know i know. im not back, just here to share this piece, bc i love it. enjoy.
Ā Ā Ā The incessant buzzing makes his head spin.
Ā Ā Ā Itās not like thereās much going on in there anywayāall he knows is that he feels sick for some unknown reason. Or maybe the reason is known, but he doesnāt want to admit it. Especially not now, when his entire world crumbled and fell apart, and all of it happened because of himself.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is weak.
Ā Ā Ā At least, thatās what he tells himself.
Ā Ā Ā He could have done so much moreāhe could have set better, he could have positioned a bit further, he could have used a tad more force. All of that seems to be in the past; a past so distant it makes him zone out. Hasnāt he been doing this for a little while now? Probably. He canāt process the passage of time, eyes still boring into the back of the red and white shirts of his rivalsāthe victors.
Ā Ā Ā In retrospection, maybe he should have anticipated the outcome. With his ankle bothering him again and a whole set benched, as well as a few missed calls that Japan really took advantage of, this loss was unavoidable.
Ā Ā Ā It could have been prevented, he keeps berating himself in his head. You should have tried harder.
Ā Ā Ā His hands curl into fists at his sides as he passively watches Japanās team celebrate their victoryātheir advancement on the world stage. Something he could have achieved; he should have achieved, had it not been for the plethora of mistakes that he realizes heās made. How ironic, the game replaying in his head over and over like a broken record and pointing out every individual flaw in his actions. All while Japan seems to have had a perfect match.
Ā Ā Ā The buzz intensifies until it makes him flinch. Beside that, there seems to be only him on the courtāheās alone, surrounded by his mistakes and failures, coming to bite at his ankles, crawling on his skin as if trying to grab him and pull him underground. Bury him in the rubble and remains of the empire he built from the ground upāonly to be burned to ashes in the blink of an eye.
Ā Ā Ā A hand on his shoulder reminds him that he isnāt, in fact, alone. The shrill sound of the whistle rings in the airāand in his earsāand heās dragged from the spot heās been standing in since he jumped to block the last ballā
Ā Ā Ā āthe last ball.
Ā Ā Ā It stares mockingly back at him, rolling aimlessly on the floor before a boy picks it up and places it in a cart. Tooru canāt blame the ball. The only person to blame here is himself, for doing too many things and nothing at all at the same time. Heās pulled out of his thoughts by his captain patting his back.
Ā Ā Ā Tooru shakes Wakatoshiās handānot like he has a choice. He bows politely to show his respect, but every movement is stiff and robotic. He doesnāt talk, not a single word; he doesnāt trust his voice. He feels like bursting when he has to shake Tobioās, but he manages. Hajime throws him a sympathetic look, and he blinksāhe never asked for sympathy.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He never asked for pity.
Ā Ā Ā Thanking the audienceāhis fansāfor the support feels like a walk of shame. He would have been happy to sign cards and posters, maybe even take a few photos, but now he brushes past everyone in an attempt to get to the locker room as fast as humanly possible. The idea of people seeing him, seeing his mistakes, taking pity on him, it makes bile rise in his throat. Nobody understands what happened to his usual, cheerful demeanor. But nobody understands how much effort heās put into thisāblood, sweat, tears, opportunities taken and ignored, all nighters, years of crafting and refining and perfecting his techniqueāand for what? It feels like everything has been in vain. A waste of time, of energy, of resources.
Ā Ā Ā Maybe volleyball wasnāt for him. Maybe it has never been for him in the first place.
Ā Ā Ā But now heās here; defeated. His dream is crushed, his ambition trampled, his motivation vanished into thin air.
Ā Ā Ā Pathetic.
Ā Ā Ā The shirt feels tight on him, or maybe thatās his chest constricting while he tries not to cry just yet.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is a coward.
Ā Ā Ā Or, at least, thatās how he feels when he announces his retirement at only 28 years old, after barely playing professionally. His Olympic course was atrocious and he wants nothing more to do with volleyball. Not after the biggest fuck up of his life, not after wasting so many and so much on it.
Ā Ā Ā You watch him engross himself in old gamesāwhere everything was fine. Where he was the victor, and his time and life hadnāt been wasted and carelessly thrown away. He observes his form, his footwork, his breathing, and compares it with the last match of his career. He mutters, writing in a ragged notebook, ripping off pages and roughly scribbling over things that donāt seem to fit his taste.
Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt been eating, which was a cause of a lot of concern to you, but when he gets into things like this, he wonāt hear you. Sometimes you ask yourself if he even wants to hear youāor if he just ignores you on purpose. After all, you did encourage him to take opportunities and stay late to practice, to expend more energy on an inevitable failure.
Ā Ā Ā Sometimes you think it might be your fault, but you push the thought away to focus on him. For you, love has always been a choiceāa mutual choice. You choose to love him, and he chooses to love you, each day. You know, deep down, that he still loves you. He will never stop loving you, not with the way he clings onto your arm when you help him bathe or how he blinks slowly, trying to understand where he is, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight of your face.
Ā Ā Ā Heās still your Tooru. He just needs to wake up from his slumber.
Ā Ā Ā Three weeks pass by painfully slowly, but they do. Youāve created a little routine for yourselfāand, subsequently, for Tooru. You check on him when you wake up, having gotten used to the cold side of his bed. You know heās on the couch, either passed out from exhaustion or still watching his games. Then comes breakfast, where you place a light meal on the coffee table, knowing his stomach will demand food, while you go about your day. Neither of you speak a word; not because you donāt want to, but because the silence has become comfortable. The tension youāve felt before, almost dripping off of his shoulders in the first few days after his defeat (and again after the announcement of his retirement), is just a faint memory in the back of your head.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt snapped at you in a few days eitherāwhich is quite the improvement, as opposed to the way heād almost slap your hand away from him when you wanted to make sure heās comfortable, right after everything went down. So youāre gratefulāa small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Yet, he doesnāt understand why.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Surely, him being an asshole and snapping at you for wanting to help, pushing you away and everything he has done since that one last game ended, would determine a normal person to leave, right? Theyād get fed up with his attitude, pack their bags and leave himāalone and undeserving, as heās been thinking of himself over the weeks.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Weak, ungrateful and useless, a burden; one might even call him a brat.
Ā Ā Ā Ā And you remain.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Everything clicks in place when he wakes up one morning, surrounded by warmth and softnessāheās in your shared bed, a place he hasnāt touched in four weeks. Four full, horrific weeks that you had to spend all alone in this giant bed. He canāt even begin to fathom your pain. And heās the cause of it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The guilt eats him alive.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Youāre in your usual spot at the kitchen table, reading a book youāve grabbed from the shelf on your way there. Youāre oddly calm, Tooru thinks, but then againāyouāre obviously tired. Thereās so much energy someone can expend while taking care of anotherā¦ Emotional, mental and physical.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name softly.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The sound is foreign, after all this time in silenceāwhen only the door hinges and gently clacking mugs filled the houseābut itās warm. Familiar, even. He remembers why he loves your name so much.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name again, just as soft as the first time.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Another reminder as to why he loves your nameāand youāis the smile blooming on your lips. Thatāsā¦ He missed it. It feels like his dark, dull grey world brightened. A splash of color, the delicate touch of a butterfly. River rock skipping. A soft tune hummed in the car, on your way back from Okinawa.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru sits down as you place the book on the table.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āIām sorry.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā His first words in weeks are an apology. He doesnāt know what exactly he is apologizing for, but he does. Thereās so much he has to apologize for, now that he thinks about it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āDonāt be. I understand.ā Your voice is softāsofter than he remembers. Maybe because you havenāt used it much lately? Or because youāre afraid heāll jump out of his seat and stomp his way back into the bedroom to lock himself in there if you so much as raise your tone one decibel too high. He cringes.
Ā Ā Ā Ā This is his fault, too.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt get it,ā he mutters. āIāve been an absolute bitch to you for four weeks. And thatāsā¦ Thatās a lot of time. A whole lot of time. And any other person would have left. You knowā¦ Pack their things, grab a cab, throw a few insults on their way out and justā¦ Poof.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā You giggle. His heart clenches painfully in his chest, thinking about how he stripped the world of your joy, because he was selfish.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYes, well, Iām not just any person. Iām your spouse, Tooru. We promised each otherāthrough sickness and health, through good times and bad, remember?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā He does. And heās ashamed he couldnāt keep his side of the promise. āEven so! You had every right to be mad at me. To, I donāt know, lash out? I know it has been hard andāā He takes a deep breath, tears gathering on his waterline and making his eyes sting. āAnd Iāve only made it worse. Itās beenā¦ Itās been four weeks. Where I left youā¦ Alone. You had to care for me like I was handicapped.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd I did it. Because I love you.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt deserve your love. Not after what Iāve put you through.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āNo, Tooru. Youāre wrong.ā The conviction in your voiceābecause you know youāre right about thisātakes him by surprise. āYou deserve to be loved, now more than ever before. I told you, love is a mutual choice. Every day, I choose you.ā You smile again, and for a brief second Tooru thinks this might all be a dream. āAnd I know, even if you didnāt say or show it, that you chose me too.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thereās a beat of silence, where Tooru carefully considers his next words. āI did.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd we made it work. It was certainly difficult at first,ā you joke, perpetually serene even in your fatigue. āBut I couldnāt abandon you. Not after all weāve been through. Because I love you too much to do such a cruel thing.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thatās something Tooru has always admired in youāyour resilience (or stubbornness, heās not sure). You stuck to your devices, as if knowing better than those around you. Heās sure the gossip about him might have become too much to bear at some point.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He moves before he can think.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Itās not much; just the tender touch of his hand on top of yours. But itās definitely a start.
Ā Ā Ā Ā A small victory; but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI love you too,ā he finally whispers, letting the tears finally flow, releasing the burden heās been unnecessarily carrying over the past weeks. Tooru feels lighter, as if he can finally breatheāand when he looks at you, heās almost blinded by the sight of your smileābright, like the sun. His sun. āIāll be better. For you; for us. I promise.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āMr. Oikawa, can you tell us what made you change your mind about declining any and all interviews after your official retirement announcement?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru chuckes, his trademark, boyish grin adorning his freckled face. āMy spouse. If thereās one person on this earth that can sway my will, itās my spouse.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYou seem to love them quite a lot.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āThat would be an understatement, honestly. Theyāve been through so muchāactually, I put them through so muchāthat āloveā is a weak word to describe my feelings. Itāsā¦ā He hesitates for a second, humming, before he snorts. āThey bring out the best in me. And I cannot be grateful enough for what they have done so far for me. I just hope I can repay their kindness, dedication and love in full, in this life or the next one.āĀ
ā synopsis: youāve always been his strongest pillar.
ā character(s): oikawa tÅru
ā warnings: angst to fluff, dissociation, talk of negative feelings (envy, hate, self-loathing, self-doubt), depressive episodes, spiraling???
ā word count: 2192
ā notes: hi itās been 84 years, i know i know. im not back, just here to share this piece, bc i love it. enjoy.
Ā Ā Ā The incessant buzzing makes his head spin.
Ā Ā Ā Itās not like thereās much going on in there anywayāall he knows is that he feels sick for some unknown reason. Or maybe the reason is known, but he doesnāt want to admit it. Especially not now, when his entire world crumbled and fell apart, and all of it happened because of himself.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is weak.
Ā Ā Ā At least, thatās what he tells himself.
Ā Ā Ā He could have done so much moreāhe could have set better, he could have positioned a bit further, he could have used a tad more force. All of that seems to be in the past; a past so distant it makes him zone out. Hasnāt he been doing this for a little while now? Probably. He canāt process the passage of time, eyes still boring into the back of the red and white shirts of his rivalsāthe victors.
Ā Ā Ā In retrospection, maybe he should have anticipated the outcome. With his ankle bothering him again and a whole set benched, as well as a few missed calls that Japan really took advantage of, this loss was unavoidable.
Ā Ā Ā It could have been prevented, he keeps berating himself in his head. You should have tried harder.
Ā Ā Ā His hands curl into fists at his sides as he passively watches Japanās team celebrate their victoryātheir advancement on the world stage. Something he could have achieved; he should have achieved, had it not been for the plethora of mistakes that he realizes heās made. How ironic, the game replaying in his head over and over like a broken record and pointing out every individual flaw in his actions. All while Japan seems to have had a perfect match.
Ā Ā Ā The buzz intensifies until it makes him flinch. Beside that, there seems to be only him on the courtāheās alone, surrounded by his mistakes and failures, coming to bite at his ankles, crawling on his skin as if trying to grab him and pull him underground. Bury him in the rubble and remains of the empire he built from the ground upāonly to be burned to ashes in the blink of an eye.
Ā Ā Ā A hand on his shoulder reminds him that he isnāt, in fact, alone. The shrill sound of the whistle rings in the airāand in his earsāand heās dragged from the spot heās been standing in since he jumped to block the last ballā
Ā Ā Ā āthe last ball.
Ā Ā Ā It stares mockingly back at him, rolling aimlessly on the floor before a boy picks it up and places it in a cart. Tooru canāt blame the ball. The only person to blame here is himself, for doing too many things and nothing at all at the same time. Heās pulled out of his thoughts by his captain patting his back.
Ā Ā Ā Tooru shakes Wakatoshiās handānot like he has a choice. He bows politely to show his respect, but every movement is stiff and robotic. He doesnāt talk, not a single word; he doesnāt trust his voice. He feels like bursting when he has to shake Tobioās, but he manages. Hajime throws him a sympathetic look, and he blinksāhe never asked for sympathy.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He never asked for pity.
Ā Ā Ā Thanking the audienceāhis fansāfor the support feels like a walk of shame. He would have been happy to sign cards and posters, maybe even take a few photos, but now he brushes past everyone in an attempt to get to the locker room as fast as humanly possible. The idea of people seeing him, seeing his mistakes, taking pity on him, it makes bile rise in his throat. Nobody understands what happened to his usual, cheerful demeanor. But nobody understands how much effort heās put into thisāblood, sweat, tears, opportunities taken and ignored, all nighters, years of crafting and refining and perfecting his techniqueāand for what? It feels like everything has been in vain. A waste of time, of energy, of resources.
Ā Ā Ā Maybe volleyball wasnāt for him. Maybe it has never been for him in the first place.
Ā Ā Ā But now heās here; defeated. His dream is crushed, his ambition trampled, his motivation vanished into thin air.
Ā Ā Ā Pathetic.
Ā Ā Ā The shirt feels tight on him, or maybe thatās his chest constricting while he tries not to cry just yet.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is a coward.
Ā Ā Ā Or, at least, thatās how he feels when he announces his retirement at only 28 years old, after barely playing professionally. His Olympic course was atrocious and he wants nothing more to do with volleyball. Not after the biggest fuck up of his life, not after wasting so many and so much on it.
Ā Ā Ā You watch him engross himself in old gamesāwhere everything was fine. Where he was the victor, and his time and life hadnāt been wasted and carelessly thrown away. He observes his form, his footwork, his breathing, and compares it with the last match of his career. He mutters, writing in a ragged notebook, ripping off pages and roughly scribbling over things that donāt seem to fit his taste.
Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt been eating, which was a cause of a lot of concern to you, but when he gets into things like this, he wonāt hear you. Sometimes you ask yourself if he even wants to hear youāor if he just ignores you on purpose. After all, you did encourage him to take opportunities and stay late to practice, to expend more energy on an inevitable failure.
Ā Ā Ā Sometimes you think it might be your fault, but you push the thought away to focus on him. For you, love has always been a choiceāa mutual choice. You choose to love him, and he chooses to love you, each day. You know, deep down, that he still loves you. He will never stop loving you, not with the way he clings onto your arm when you help him bathe or how he blinks slowly, trying to understand where he is, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight of your face.
Ā Ā Ā Heās still your Tooru. He just needs to wake up from his slumber.
Ā Ā Ā Three weeks pass by painfully slowly, but they do. Youāve created a little routine for yourselfāand, subsequently, for Tooru. You check on him when you wake up, having gotten used to the cold side of his bed. You know heās on the couch, either passed out from exhaustion or still watching his games. Then comes breakfast, where you place a light meal on the coffee table, knowing his stomach will demand food, while you go about your day. Neither of you speak a word; not because you donāt want to, but because the silence has become comfortable. The tension youāve felt before, almost dripping off of his shoulders in the first few days after his defeat (and again after the announcement of his retirement), is just a faint memory in the back of your head.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt snapped at you in a few days eitherāwhich is quite the improvement, as opposed to the way heād almost slap your hand away from him when you wanted to make sure heās comfortable, right after everything went down. So youāre gratefulāa small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Yet, he doesnāt understand why.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Surely, him being an asshole and snapping at you for wanting to help, pushing you away and everything he has done since that one last game ended, would determine a normal person to leave, right? Theyād get fed up with his attitude, pack their bags and leave himāalone and undeserving, as heās been thinking of himself over the weeks.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Weak, ungrateful and useless, a burden; one might even call him a brat.
Ā Ā Ā Ā And you remain.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Everything clicks in place when he wakes up one morning, surrounded by warmth and softnessāheās in your shared bed, a place he hasnāt touched in four weeks. Four full, horrific weeks that you had to spend all alone in this giant bed. He canāt even begin to fathom your pain. And heās the cause of it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The guilt eats him alive.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Youāre in your usual spot at the kitchen table, reading a book youāve grabbed from the shelf on your way there. Youāre oddly calm, Tooru thinks, but then againāyouāre obviously tired. Thereās so much energy someone can expend while taking care of anotherā¦ Emotional, mental and physical.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name softly.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The sound is foreign, after all this time in silenceāwhen only the door hinges and gently clacking mugs filled the houseābut itās warm. Familiar, even. He remembers why he loves your name so much.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name again, just as soft as the first time.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Another reminder as to why he loves your nameāand youāis the smile blooming on your lips. Thatāsā¦ He missed it. It feels like his dark, dull grey world brightened. A splash of color, the delicate touch of a butterfly. River rock skipping. A soft tune hummed in the car, on your way back from Okinawa.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru sits down as you place the book on the table.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āIām sorry.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā His first words in weeks are an apology. He doesnāt know what exactly he is apologizing for, but he does. Thereās so much he has to apologize for, now that he thinks about it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āDonāt be. I understand.ā Your voice is softāsofter than he remembers. Maybe because you havenāt used it much lately? Or because youāre afraid heāll jump out of his seat and stomp his way back into the bedroom to lock himself in there if you so much as raise your tone one decibel too high. He cringes.
Ā Ā Ā Ā This is his fault, too.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt get it,ā he mutters. āIāve been an absolute bitch to you for four weeks. And thatāsā¦ Thatās a lot of time. A whole lot of time. And any other person would have left. You knowā¦ Pack their things, grab a cab, throw a few insults on their way out and justā¦ Poof.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā You giggle. His heart clenches painfully in his chest, thinking about how he stripped the world of your joy, because he was selfish.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYes, well, Iām not just any person. Iām your spouse, Tooru. We promised each otherāthrough sickness and health, through good times and bad, remember?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā He does. And heās ashamed he couldnāt keep his side of the promise. āEven so! You had every right to be mad at me. To, I donāt know, lash out? I know it has been hard andāā He takes a deep breath, tears gathering on his waterline and making his eyes sting. āAnd Iāve only made it worse. Itās beenā¦ Itās been four weeks. Where I left youā¦ Alone. You had to care for me like I was handicapped.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd I did it. Because I love you.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt deserve your love. Not after what Iāve put you through.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āNo, Tooru. Youāre wrong.ā The conviction in your voiceābecause you know youāre right about thisātakes him by surprise. āYou deserve to be loved, now more than ever before. I told you, love is a mutual choice. Every day, I choose you.ā You smile again, and for a brief second Tooru thinks this might all be a dream. āAnd I know, even if you didnāt say or show it, that you chose me too.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thereās a beat of silence, where Tooru carefully considers his next words. āI did.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd we made it work. It was certainly difficult at first,ā you joke, perpetually serene even in your fatigue. āBut I couldnāt abandon you. Not after all weāve been through. Because I love you too much to do such a cruel thing.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thatās something Tooru has always admired in youāyour resilience (or stubbornness, heās not sure). You stuck to your devices, as if knowing better than those around you. Heās sure the gossip about him might have become too much to bear at some point.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He moves before he can think.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Itās not much; just the tender touch of his hand on top of yours. But itās definitely a start.
Ā Ā Ā Ā A small victory; but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI love you too,ā he finally whispers, letting the tears finally flow, releasing the burden heās been unnecessarily carrying over the past weeks. Tooru feels lighter, as if he can finally breatheāand when he looks at you, heās almost blinded by the sight of your smileābright, like the sun. His sun. āIāll be better. For you; for us. I promise.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āMr. Oikawa, can you tell us what made you change your mind about declining any and all interviews after your official retirement announcement?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru chuckes, his trademark, boyish grin adorning his freckled face. āMy spouse. If thereās one person on this earth that can sway my will, itās my spouse.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYou seem to love them quite a lot.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āThat would be an understatement, honestly. Theyāve been through so muchāactually, I put them through so muchāthat āloveā is a weak word to describe my feelings. Itāsā¦ā He hesitates for a second, humming, before he snorts. āThey bring out the best in me. And I cannot be grateful enough for what they have done so far for me. I just hope I can repay their kindness, dedication and love in full, in this life or the next one.āĀ
ā synopsis: youāve always been his strongest pillar.
ā character(s): oikawa tÅru
ā warnings: angst to fluff, dissociation, talk of negative feelings (envy, hate, self-loathing, self-doubt), depressive episodes, spiraling???
ā word count: 2192
ā notes: hi itās been 84 years, i know i know. im not back, just here to share this piece, bc i love it. enjoy.
Ā Ā Ā The incessant buzzing makes his head spin.
Ā Ā Ā Itās not like thereās much going on in there anywayāall he knows is that he feels sick for some unknown reason. Or maybe the reason is known, but he doesnāt want to admit it. Especially not now, when his entire world crumbled and fell apart, and all of it happened because of himself.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is weak.
Ā Ā Ā At least, thatās what he tells himself.
Ā Ā Ā He could have done so much moreāhe could have set better, he could have positioned a bit further, he could have used a tad more force. All of that seems to be in the past; a past so distant it makes him zone out. Hasnāt he been doing this for a little while now? Probably. He canāt process the passage of time, eyes still boring into the back of the red and white shirts of his rivalsāthe victors.
Ā Ā Ā In retrospection, maybe he should have anticipated the outcome. With his ankle bothering him again and a whole set benched, as well as a few missed calls that Japan really took advantage of, this loss was unavoidable.
Ā Ā Ā It could have been prevented, he keeps berating himself in his head. You should have tried harder.
Ā Ā Ā His hands curl into fists at his sides as he passively watches Japanās team celebrate their victoryātheir advancement on the world stage. Something he could have achieved; he should have achieved, had it not been for the plethora of mistakes that he realizes heās made. How ironic, the game replaying in his head over and over like a broken record and pointing out every individual flaw in his actions. All while Japan seems to have had a perfect match.
Ā Ā Ā The buzz intensifies until it makes him flinch. Beside that, there seems to be only him on the courtāheās alone, surrounded by his mistakes and failures, coming to bite at his ankles, crawling on his skin as if trying to grab him and pull him underground. Bury him in the rubble and remains of the empire he built from the ground upāonly to be burned to ashes in the blink of an eye.
Ā Ā Ā A hand on his shoulder reminds him that he isnāt, in fact, alone. The shrill sound of the whistle rings in the airāand in his earsāand heās dragged from the spot heās been standing in since he jumped to block the last ballā
Ā Ā Ā āthe last ball.
Ā Ā Ā It stares mockingly back at him, rolling aimlessly on the floor before a boy picks it up and places it in a cart. Tooru canāt blame the ball. The only person to blame here is himself, for doing too many things and nothing at all at the same time. Heās pulled out of his thoughts by his captain patting his back.
Ā Ā Ā Tooru shakes Wakatoshiās handānot like he has a choice. He bows politely to show his respect, but every movement is stiff and robotic. He doesnāt talk, not a single word; he doesnāt trust his voice. He feels like bursting when he has to shake Tobioās, but he manages. Hajime throws him a sympathetic look, and he blinksāhe never asked for sympathy.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He never asked for pity.
Ā Ā Ā Thanking the audienceāhis fansāfor the support feels like a walk of shame. He would have been happy to sign cards and posters, maybe even take a few photos, but now he brushes past everyone in an attempt to get to the locker room as fast as humanly possible. The idea of people seeing him, seeing his mistakes, taking pity on him, it makes bile rise in his throat. Nobody understands what happened to his usual, cheerful demeanor. But nobody understands how much effort heās put into thisāblood, sweat, tears, opportunities taken and ignored, all nighters, years of crafting and refining and perfecting his techniqueāand for what? It feels like everything has been in vain. A waste of time, of energy, of resources.
Ā Ā Ā Maybe volleyball wasnāt for him. Maybe it has never been for him in the first place.
Ā Ā Ā But now heās here; defeated. His dream is crushed, his ambition trampled, his motivation vanished into thin air.
Ā Ā Ā Pathetic.
Ā Ā Ā The shirt feels tight on him, or maybe thatās his chest constricting while he tries not to cry just yet.
Ā Ā Ā Oikawa Tooru is a coward.
Ā Ā Ā Or, at least, thatās how he feels when he announces his retirement at only 28 years old, after barely playing professionally. His Olympic course was atrocious and he wants nothing more to do with volleyball. Not after the biggest fuck up of his life, not after wasting so many and so much on it.
Ā Ā Ā You watch him engross himself in old gamesāwhere everything was fine. Where he was the victor, and his time and life hadnāt been wasted and carelessly thrown away. He observes his form, his footwork, his breathing, and compares it with the last match of his career. He mutters, writing in a ragged notebook, ripping off pages and roughly scribbling over things that donāt seem to fit his taste.
Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt been eating, which was a cause of a lot of concern to you, but when he gets into things like this, he wonāt hear you. Sometimes you ask yourself if he even wants to hear youāor if he just ignores you on purpose. After all, you did encourage him to take opportunities and stay late to practice, to expend more energy on an inevitable failure.
Ā Ā Ā Sometimes you think it might be your fault, but you push the thought away to focus on him. For you, love has always been a choiceāa mutual choice. You choose to love him, and he chooses to love you, each day. You know, deep down, that he still loves you. He will never stop loving you, not with the way he clings onto your arm when you help him bathe or how he blinks slowly, trying to understand where he is, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight of your face.
Ā Ā Ā Heās still your Tooru. He just needs to wake up from his slumber.
Ā Ā Ā Three weeks pass by painfully slowly, but they do. Youāve created a little routine for yourselfāand, subsequently, for Tooru. You check on him when you wake up, having gotten used to the cold side of his bed. You know heās on the couch, either passed out from exhaustion or still watching his games. Then comes breakfast, where you place a light meal on the coffee table, knowing his stomach will demand food, while you go about your day. Neither of you speak a word; not because you donāt want to, but because the silence has become comfortable. The tension youāve felt before, almost dripping off of his shoulders in the first few days after his defeat (and again after the announcement of his retirement), is just a faint memory in the back of your head.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He hasnāt snapped at you in a few days eitherāwhich is quite the improvement, as opposed to the way heād almost slap your hand away from him when you wanted to make sure heās comfortable, right after everything went down. So youāre gratefulāa small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Yet, he doesnāt understand why.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Surely, him being an asshole and snapping at you for wanting to help, pushing you away and everything he has done since that one last game ended, would determine a normal person to leave, right? Theyād get fed up with his attitude, pack their bags and leave himāalone and undeserving, as heās been thinking of himself over the weeks.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Weak, ungrateful and useless, a burden; one might even call him a brat.
Ā Ā Ā Ā And you remain.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Everything clicks in place when he wakes up one morning, surrounded by warmth and softnessāheās in your shared bed, a place he hasnāt touched in four weeks. Four full, horrific weeks that you had to spend all alone in this giant bed. He canāt even begin to fathom your pain. And heās the cause of it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The guilt eats him alive.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Youāre in your usual spot at the kitchen table, reading a book youāve grabbed from the shelf on your way there. Youāre oddly calm, Tooru thinks, but then againāyouāre obviously tired. Thereās so much energy someone can expend while taking care of anotherā¦ Emotional, mental and physical.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name softly.
Ā Ā Ā Ā The sound is foreign, after all this time in silenceāwhen only the door hinges and gently clacking mugs filled the houseābut itās warm. Familiar, even. He remembers why he loves your name so much.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He calls your name again, just as soft as the first time.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Another reminder as to why he loves your nameāand youāis the smile blooming on your lips. Thatāsā¦ He missed it. It feels like his dark, dull grey world brightened. A splash of color, the delicate touch of a butterfly. River rock skipping. A soft tune hummed in the car, on your way back from Okinawa.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru sits down as you place the book on the table.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āIām sorry.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā His first words in weeks are an apology. He doesnāt know what exactly he is apologizing for, but he does. Thereās so much he has to apologize for, now that he thinks about it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āDonāt be. I understand.ā Your voice is softāsofter than he remembers. Maybe because you havenāt used it much lately? Or because youāre afraid heāll jump out of his seat and stomp his way back into the bedroom to lock himself in there if you so much as raise your tone one decibel too high. He cringes.
Ā Ā Ā Ā This is his fault, too.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt get it,ā he mutters. āIāve been an absolute bitch to you for four weeks. And thatāsā¦ Thatās a lot of time. A whole lot of time. And any other person would have left. You knowā¦ Pack their things, grab a cab, throw a few insults on their way out and justā¦ Poof.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā You giggle. His heart clenches painfully in his chest, thinking about how he stripped the world of your joy, because he was selfish.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYes, well, Iām not just any person. Iām your spouse, Tooru. We promised each otherāthrough sickness and health, through good times and bad, remember?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā He does. And heās ashamed he couldnāt keep his side of the promise. āEven so! You had every right to be mad at me. To, I donāt know, lash out? I know it has been hard andāā He takes a deep breath, tears gathering on his waterline and making his eyes sting. āAnd Iāve only made it worse. Itās beenā¦ Itās been four weeks. Where I left youā¦ Alone. You had to care for me like I was handicapped.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd I did it. Because I love you.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI donāt deserve your love. Not after what Iāve put you through.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āNo, Tooru. Youāre wrong.ā The conviction in your voiceābecause you know youāre right about thisātakes him by surprise. āYou deserve to be loved, now more than ever before. I told you, love is a mutual choice. Every day, I choose you.ā You smile again, and for a brief second Tooru thinks this might all be a dream. āAnd I know, even if you didnāt say or show it, that you chose me too.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thereās a beat of silence, where Tooru carefully considers his next words. āI did.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āAnd we made it work. It was certainly difficult at first,ā you joke, perpetually serene even in your fatigue. āBut I couldnāt abandon you. Not after all weāve been through. Because I love you too much to do such a cruel thing.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Thatās something Tooru has always admired in youāyour resilience (or stubbornness, heās not sure). You stuck to your devices, as if knowing better than those around you. Heās sure the gossip about him might have become too much to bear at some point.
Ā Ā Ā Ā He moves before he can think.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Itās not much; just the tender touch of his hand on top of yours. But itās definitely a start.
Ā Ā Ā Ā A small victory; but a victory nonetheless.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āI love you too,ā he finally whispers, letting the tears finally flow, releasing the burden heās been unnecessarily carrying over the past weeks. Tooru feels lighter, as if he can finally breatheāand when he looks at you, heās almost blinded by the sight of your smileābright, like the sun. His sun. āIāll be better. For you; for us. I promise.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āMr. Oikawa, can you tell us what made you change your mind about declining any and all interviews after your official retirement announcement?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Tooru chuckes, his trademark, boyish grin adorning his freckled face. āMy spouse. If thereās one person on this earth that can sway my will, itās my spouse.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYou seem to love them quite a lot.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā āThat would be an understatement, honestly. Theyāve been through so muchāactually, I put them through so muchāthat āloveā is a weak word to describe my feelings. Itāsā¦ā He hesitates for a second, humming, before he snorts. āThey bring out the best in me. And I cannot be grateful enough for what they have done so far for me. I just hope I can repay their kindness, dedication and love in full, in this life or the next one.āĀ
Put simply, I am Not OK. My dad has recently told me that if I donāt get a job or a volunteer job by the end of June, I will be left homeless. I have spent the past four months since February looking for a job and volunteer work, but it has been fruitless. Needless to say, Iām terrified. When I first got that message (which will be under the cut for proof), I immediately felt the need to call a suicide hotline. I know that the deadline is a while away yet, but I am still extremely scared. If things donāt get better, I can only imagine how much further I will deteriorate, and I may have to call that hotline.
While the future of my housing is up in the air, I would very much appreciate it if anyone, and I mean anyone, could toss me some money, so that I can at least have something. I have no savings, and no other real options, as I donāt wish to take up space at a shelter when there are other people who need it more. Anything that anyone can spare would be a big help as I try to find a job and/or outside help. My P*yP#l can be found here.
Iām not sure if everyone is up to date ewith the latest tumblr drama, but Iāll leave the details out for you guys to figure. Itāll come around on the TL soon enough. All you need to know is that tumblr is no longer a safe place for me to come back to, with the amount of hate and people leaving Iāve seen in the past year.
Yes, Iāve been on the writing side of this hellhole for a year (March 1st to be specific was the 1 year anniversary of this blog) and sometimes I regret being involved; sometimes Iām happy I did because I met an good load of people I get to call my friends. I havenāt received hate myself and I am thankful to the stars for that, but that doesnāt mean Iām comfortable.
Iām a weak person, thatās the truth.
Anyway, that being said, to the announcement I wanted to make!
I will pump out the last of my requests today, clear my inbox, share my remaining drafts as unfinished WIPs, queue some of the fics Iāve read but had sitting in my drafts, and then Iām fucking off of this hellsite.
This blog, along with the JJK and poetry ones, will remain archives for everyone to see and read. Theyāre all messes, but hey! I have some stuff I liked writing here and there. Hopefully itāll bring someone joy in the future.
Mutuals who would like to keep in contact can ask for my Discord, where Iām a lot more active.
Thank you for your extended patience, all the love over the past year and maybe Iāll see you guys again one day.
Iām not sure if everyone is up to date ewith the latest tumblr drama, but Iāll leave the details out for you guys to figure. Itāll come around on the TL soon enough. All you need to know is that tumblr is no longer a safe place for me to come back to, with the amount of hate and people leaving Iāve seen in the past year.
Yes, Iāve been on the writing side of this hellhole for a year (March 1st to be specific was the 1 year anniversary of this blog) and sometimes I regret being involved; sometimes Iām happy I did because I met an good load of people I get to call my friends. I havenāt received hate myself and I am thankful to the stars for that, but that doesnāt mean Iām comfortable.
Iām a weak person, thatās the truth.
Anyway, that being said, to the announcement I wanted to make!
I will pump out the last of my requests today, clear my inbox, share my remaining drafts as unfinished WIPs, queue some of the fics Iāve read but had sitting in my drafts, and then Iām fucking off of this hellsite.
This blog, along with the JJK and poetry ones, will remain archives for everyone to see and read. Theyāre all messes, but hey! I have some stuff I liked writing here and there. Hopefully itāll bring someone joy in the future.
Mutuals who would like to keep in contact can ask for my Discord, where Iām a lot more active.
Thank you for your extended patience, all the love over the past year and maybe Iāll see you guys again one day.
Masha! i'm also sad to see you go ā¹ but, i definitely understand. this whole thing has just been a giant mess, to say the least, but i'm glad to have met you! if it's alright, i'll DM you my Discord so we can keep in touch!
stay safe. and doing what's best for yourself is not weak, don't say that šš
hiii baby š„ŗ thank you for the kind words! and yes it has been a giant mess. hopefully everyone gets peace of mind and the actual truth, whatever that may be, comes out to light.
and itās totally alright!! please go ahead, iād love to keep in touch <3
Iām not sure if everyone is up to date ewith the latest tumblr drama, but Iāll leave the details out for you guys to figure. Itāll come around on the TL soon enough. All you need to know is that tumblr is no longer a safe place for me to come back to, with the amount of hate and people leaving Iāve seen in the past year.
Yes, Iāve been on the writing side of this hellhole for a year (March 1st to be specific was the 1 year anniversary of this blog) and sometimes I regret being involved; sometimes Iām happy I did because I met an good load of people I get to call my friends. I havenāt received hate myself and I am thankful to the stars for that, but that doesnāt mean Iām comfortable.
Iām a weak person, thatās the truth.
Anyway, that being said, to the announcement I wanted to make!
I will pump out the last of my requests today, clear my inbox, share my remaining drafts as unfinished WIPs, queue some of the fics Iāve read but had sitting in my drafts, and then Iām fucking off of this hellsite.
This blog, along with the JJK and poetry ones, will remain archives for everyone to see and read. Theyāre all messes, but hey! I have some stuff I liked writing here and there. Hopefully itāll bring someone joy in the future.
Mutuals who would like to keep in contact can ask for my Discord, where Iām a lot more active.
Thank you for your extended patience, all the love over the past year and maybe Iāll see you guys again one day.
ā Minty š±
å®® ā ARCHIVE @atsuminthe - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
