This is my fanfic blog! Feel free to call me Art as my little pen name. disaster-child-and-cats is what my OG main blog is called, and I’m starting to wish I could merge them. Ask away for characters or ideas I’m usually down for them if I’m not busy.
Summary: A peak into life with your husband, Katakuri: Cleaning out your hobby room.
A/N: I, uh, want to do more “filler” stuff for Feeling Fangs. Just to get more content out and to have things be more fleshed out. This isn’t any particular place in the timeline, just a fun little domestic thing.
You look at the clock and sigh. No matter how hard you try, you can't seem to organize this room. Your husband is nice enough to call it your private space. You've taken to calling it where hobbies go to die.
There's a long, poorly knitted piece hanging from a curtain rod. It's probably a scarf. Though maybe you were going to start making clothes for snakes by turning that into a tube. It's not the only knitting project that's abandoned. The heap in the corner could be anything. A sweater, a stuffed animal, or maybe it's something more out there like pants.
There's blocks of wood next to a locked chest. You had mentioned wood carving, but ever the worried husband, Katakuri made sure to lock up the sharp tools. Fabric, minerals, and tools are heaped on every surface, showing that you've tried a lot of hobbies. Maybe cleaning this mess up should be your next hobby.
"Are you sure you don't need me to lift anything?" Katakuri asks from a chair that you think you intended to refurbish.
You give a weary smile from the floor. "Nope. Not yet anyway. You're doing enough just by being here and labeling the bins."
There's a subtle disappointment in his eyes, like a child who just got told they can't have extra dessert. Does he feel the need to always be doing something for you? Does he really want you to have the ability to lay around and do nothing? On one hand, that's incredibly sweet of him. On the other, you really want to make him understand that you want to do things for him.
"You know, I picked most of this up because I was so bored without you around. Like take this," you say as you pick up a half finished wire mess. "I think it was gonna be a sculpture of some grand creature I saw in a book. It was like four months into our marriage."
The squeak of a marker on a box rings out at your admission. It's not a fun conversation to have, that's for sure. You can't imagine how upset he must feel knowing that when he was gone for so long, you made some random thing only to drop it once he got back. The amount of projects must make him feel like he's not around enough.
"Now that you've seen the mess, what do you think I should do? It might be a good idea to finish the projects I've started and then donate the supplies to a school or something."
Katakuri passes you the box. Despite not remembering what the sculpture is supposed to me, you do your best to be gentle with it. At one point it was the closest you had to company, even if you can't remember what creature you were modeling it after. Maybe if you finish some of this, you could sell it. Not that any of it looks amazing.
"I'm sorry about being gone so long," he apologizes, resting the box on the growing pile. "If I was here, you wouldn't have to be going through this room."
You roll your eyes. "You're acting like if you were here all the time, I wouldn't get a hobby. I'd just have less hobbies, not none. And after three years, I'd have managed to fill a decent chunk of this room regardless. The important part is that you're here."
You fold a chunky yarn blanket as best as you can. It's huge, definitely not made with you in mind. Though, maybe you didn't have much in mind when you worked on it, just adding rows as you zoned out. You do know that at some point, you did start making things with Katakuri in mind. There's a small box of crystals that you bought with the intent to make little protective amulets out of. You scrapped that idea out of embarrassment.
"Is that really all that matters to you?"
Standing to push the blanket into its own box, you sigh. "Right now, yes. We both got stuck in a marriage for the betterment of your family. We made our choices and did our best. Most couples like us wouldn't even fall in love."
Katakuri closes the box with ease. "When did you fall in love with me?"
Pausing at the question, you lean against him. You only realized that you loved him when you nearly lost him, but pinpointing when those feelings started is much harder. Maybe it was the time he didn't say anything as you cried yourself to sleep, instead he just had his hand resting on your side. Maybe it was some other small gesture long ago that started it.
"That's a hard question. I just know that at some point, I went from being scared of you to being alright with you being around. Then I found myself missing you when you were gone, wanting you to come home safe, even if the only thing it meant was just having you next to me for a few days."
For once, it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. It’s not the answer he was most likely looking for, maybe even one that hurts. There’s nothing right to say in this moment. The truth isn’t pretty, but a lie would also hurt.
“There’s no perfect moment. I can’t tell you it was love at first sight, but I also can’t say that I didn’t fall for you. Unfortunately, we weren’t really allowed to have that cute fairy tale romance that some people get. But regardless, I love you.”
Katakuri presses a kiss against your forehead. “Would you change anything if you could?”
You give a little snort, half out of laughter and half out of astonishment. “Does it seem like I’d have changed anything? I love you, regardless of how or when it happened. I’d do anything I can just to make sure you come back to me.”
“Even if that means you’re with me for the rest of your life?”
You give him a soft kiss. “Even if I had to kill the devil to bring you back.”
I am 1 event away from losing my shit. Why does a 40+ year old feel so offended by a note that says “please label items that aren’t labeled and keep things neater and more organized” that she feels the need to shit talk a 24 year old(me)? I’ve spent 5 years in this hell hole of a retail store, become one of the most trusted employees to get shit done and get it done right, and she’s offended that I’m upset enough at cleaning up everyone’s fucking mess that I leave a note for everyone? It doesn’t name a single employee. It’s a generic ass note that my boss told me to write if it’s becoming a problem. Jesus fucking Christ, no wonder she can’t bring herself to tell on the fact that she’s a sneaky link for the GM.
Was anyone gonna say “a biopsy is them taking the whole thing” or was I just gonna find that out when I took the bandaid off my ass to discover my mole is now gone? Wild. I thought they’d just take the part above the surface level of my skin but nope. My moles. They’re gone.
Uhhhjh tw vent and death and grief pls take this seriously as I don’t use trigger warnings a lot
So uh, life is on pause for a bit. My dad died Tuesday and I don’t really know how to handle that. I spent the whole week sleeping because of grief and, of all things, the common cold. I am now behind on algebra homework, which sucks because I was caught up and starting to write and was pretty close to done with a project or two. Worst part? Every time I start to wonder what I should do, I think I need to call him. Funny how that works I suppose. You never realize how much you really want or need to talk to someone until you can’t.
Some coworkers know, my boyfriend knows, but honestly I’m trying to keep it limited. Not that people at work care about that. Nothing says ✨boundaries✨ like acknowledging someone doesn’t want to talk about something and then pressing on anyway.
Anyway, I’ll try to do stuff after this semester is over in a few weeks. Thanks for the patience.
I applied for a promotion, had an interview, and never got a call back. I’m assuming I didn’t get it and my manager has said there is a rumor they filled it by promoting from in their store. I’m not upset or anything, but people keep asking how I feel about it like I’m hiding something. I’m not upset over it? Like not really? Sure it would’ve been nice, but I like the people I work with so it’s fine.
I love all my followers, and I’m so sorry for the lack of content. My mood and energy have both been very low. I have started a new medication for my depression, so I hope that that will help. I have occasionally worked on various WIPs, but nothing more than like 600 words added to a piece. Maybe today, I’ll write some, but school is draining for a person who doesn’t want it.
So late last week, this kid at my job, Alim, made a big deal of being trained and talked about being the next head cashier, aka like a supervisor but not a manager. Anyway, I told a coworker that if that was true, I’m sick of the disrespect at my job for passing me up for 5 years to give it to a guy that thinks he’s smarter than he acts.
Fast forward to this morning. I’m talking to my boss and setting the rumor of me crying over this straight. She goes “oh yeah, people over the weekend were either team Alim or team you”. So basically they were voting who they wanted to be the next head cashier. It doesn’t matter since they aren’t hiring for that spot, but the funny part is that if they were and it was vote based, I would’ve won.
This man, who wants to be a politician, lost his, most likely first adult election, to me: a woman who write anime smut on Tumblr. Which is pretty amusing to me.
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