#nad writes

[one-futilerat]

Some things are better left unsaid. Like the way I can’t think of coffee without thinking of you. Like the way it’s taste— milky, bitter, just the right notes of sweet— seem to carry the outline of your idiotic smile, the forgiving shape of your eyes. The way walking past a brewery makes my chest ache; with anxiety, longing. The way the smell of roasted beans makes me sick to my stomach despite my want to drink coffee. Bitter. Sweet. Like the way your laugh used to sound when I cracked stupid jokes. Like the broken stares we used to hold from across the room. Like your presence, bittersweet and as addictive as caffeine. I loved coffee. But I suppose I loved you more.

[one-futilerat]

And she swore she'd loved him —so fully, so sincerely, so endlessly— it might as well have been forever

—it hurts to know you

[salmon-sushi]

A collection of dumbassery | index

summary: when you and the boys share exactly one braincell together

genre: crack(?), platonic relationships

aobajohsai & manager!reader

back to masterlist

woops 

single parent club 

one more time!

[salmon-sushi]

masterlist 𓆝𓆞𓆟

reader is female unless stated otherwise!

haikyuu

a collection of dumbassery | aobajohsai & fem!reader

osaka night out | miya osamu

[one-futilerat]

i wonder if it was you who made me unpleasant or if meeting you had unleashed all the terrible things already in me out into the world

[one-futilerat]

I wish I wrote with indifference. With interest instead of emotion. But instead tears pour out of every crevice of my heart and sorrow sighs while longing sits heavy, unmoving from my chest. Stagnant happiness tugs at my sleeve, begging to be picked up as my thoughts flow from mind to ink to paper as long and as constant as the nile. But again and again, it is you. My constant is you and sadness and madness and terrible insanity. You are what I write again and again, over and over, each new poem an echo of the one before. An echo of the despair in my chest, the scream of desperation from every hole in my heart.

[one-futilerat]

Harriet needed to learn how to fall in love. Not with people, no. She'd fallen too hard and too fast with too many people who hadn't loved her back. She needed to learn how to fall in love with life again. With waking up before the sunrise or enjoying lazy weekend mornings. She wanted to fall in love with reading a book, writing her heart out with the cheapest pen and paper within her reach. She wanted to fall in love with staring up at the clouds, long road trips spent in silence and laughter. She wanted to fall in love with the breeze flitting through the trees and messing up her hair, with making a simple breakfast and eating good food. She wanted to fall in love with embroidering again, with little things that took up all of her attention and all of her time.

But most of all, Harriet thought, she needed to fall in love with herself again. With the way she looked, the way she spoke, the things she was interested in; she needed to learn to wake up with hope again, thinking of nothing but the day ahead and all the possibilities it held. Because she wanted to be able to be happy again, without needing him there. Because she wanted to be able to be content on her own again, before the lavender haze, before the euphoria that came with his company, before the heartbreak and the melancholy of him leaving. She wanted to be able to get through the day without losing herself, without succumbing to the void in her chest that had appeared in his absence.

She wanted to love again, that was all.

[one-futilerat]

"I think I've fallen in love," William grinned, plopping into a chair across Elizabeth. Their local cafe was more crowded than usual for a weekday so the two had settled for an outdoor table over their usual booth. Although Elizabeth had hoped that the cold air might help taper her friend's excitement to a decent amount.

"Again?" She raised a brow, not bothering to look up from her latest novel. "Who's the unlucky girl this time?"

"You." He declared, grinning wider as he poured milk into his coffee. "You, Elizabeth Cunningham, I have fallen off of ten story high buildings in love with you. I'd light the world on fire and watch it burn with you if you'd like. I'd buy you flowers every Sunday and take you on walks across moors for however long you please. Darling, dearest, most beautiful Elizabeth, you've captured my heart through your daring prose and the amount of annoyance you hold for me in one of your most important internal organs (your heart). I'd wage wars for you, win them too, my love, I'd get you everything your heart desires so long as you're willing to entertain the thought of loving me back."

And if the same scene hadn't taken place two weeks ago at a much more public, more upscale establishment full of upperclassmen, she might have sputtered and struggled to find her words. But instead Elizabeth flipped to another page, trying her best to hide her smile. "Sure."