Jul 28, 2025
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Ireland
seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
Late nights & Pinky promises
.☘︎ ݁˖ synopsis - your house husband grows quietly upset and worried after you repeatedly come home from work without answering his calls.
★ pairings - ushijima wakatoshi x reader
── .✦ cw - argument, emotional tension, miscommunication, work stress, marriage, hurt/comfort.
₊⊹ wc - 0.8k
Even for someone as perfect and composed as Ushijima Wakatoshi, marriage doesn’t come easy.
Your husband vowed to fulfill any wish you’d ever have—no matter how unconventional it was.
Out of everything you ever wished for, what you wanted most was your career.
You never wanted to commit to societal norms and expectations—where you’d be seen as nothing more than a caregiver or homemaker. Slaving your life away by prioritizing your husband’s and children’s needs over your own ambition never sounded appealing.
When you married Ushijima, you couldn’t have been happier.
He was everything a partner could be: patient, understanding, caring—and most importantly, supportive.
Ushijima understood your fear of conformity. Your fear of losing yourself to expectations.
Just your luck, he was more than willing to be the one who stayed home. The one who cooked, cleaned, and cared for the house while you pursued what you loved. However, that’s what leads Ushijima to where he is now—dumbfounded and frustrated.
He had done everything for the day. Dusting the shelves. Washing the dishes. Doing the laundry. Everything.
You had promised you’d be back by 4 PM.
“I promise, 4 is the latest I’d come, Waka.”
It’s currently 8 PM.
Ushijima takes great pride in making meals for the both of you, always ensuring the food is ready by the time you come home.
Now, it sits cold and untouched on the table.
He’s been trying to reach you for hours. Call after call—no response. Eventually, he grows tired of waiting without answers.
He isn’t just upset about the food.
He’s worried.
“Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system,” the carrier rings.
“She promised she’d come by 4…”
He remains seated at the table, pushing the food around on his plate.
Hours pass. Not a sound. Not a word.
By 10 PM, he finally stands, packing the food away and placing it in the fridge.
As he settles onto the couch, a thud echoes through the apartment.
You’re home.
“Ushi!! I’m so sorry—I promised I’d be back by 4. You see, there was this work thi—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupts calmly. “Food is in the fridge. Heat it up and eat.”
You recognize the tone immediately.
He’s upset.
“Ushi, I promise this wasn’t on purpose. Please, let me explain.”
“There’s nothing you need to explain,” he says, “especially considering you didn’t think to send a message letting me know you were safe.”
Setting your belongings down, you approach him carefully, reaching for his hand.
“Look, I know this looks like a big mess, but I promise I didn’t mean to be so late—or ignore you.”
“Well then, explain,” he replies. “You do realize this has been happening for the past month, no? Every time you promise to come home early, you stay at work for hours. You don’t keep your promises anymore, y/n.”
“Ushi, I know this all looks bad—and maybe it got blown out of proportion—but please, hear me out.”
You take a breath.
“My manager said he’d give me a raise if I worked a few extra hours. I really thought I’d be home on time every time I promised you. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret—I just wanted to surprise you. Still… that’s no excuse. I’m sorry, Ushi.”
He stays quiet.
“And what about today?” he asks. “When you didn’t come home early—and didn’t answer your phone—it wasn’t just upsetting. I worried for you.”
“I know… and I’m sorry. My phone died. I thought the surprise would make up for it, but I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You raise your hand, gently cupping his cheek.
You search his eyes for even the smallest hint of forgiveness.
You wait.
A long pause stretches out—painfully slow. Was he even going to accept your apology? Ushijima is level-headed and direct… but this has been going on for a while now.
The silence weighs heavy between the two of you.
He exhales, shoulders relaxing just slightly as he leans into your touch.
Hesitantly, he finally speaks.
“…Apology accepted. But next time, you need to communicate with me. You know that saying, ‘Key is communication?’”
You huff out a laugh.
“It’s ‘Communication is key,’” you mumble. “Sometimes I forget how dorky you are.”
“Jokes aside,” you add quietly, “do you really forgive me? You made all this food and—”
“I forgive you. Do not worry,” he says gently. “Now, would you like to eat what I made for us?”
His hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you toward the kitchen.
“I’d love to,” you smile. “Tomorrow’s food is on me. Promise.”
“…Pinky promise?” he teases. “Nothing wrong with being sure.”
You interlock your pinky with his, smiling softly.
“Pinky promise.”
a/n: short and corny ik but bearrr with me
He's in a mood because he got called in on his day off.
Fortunately, he gets to take it out on my mouth after his shift. That's bound to help with some of that stress he'd been carrying around.
(a tongue in his ass will take care of the rest)
A friendly reminder during this period of economic pressures and global world hellscape, you're allowed to get yourself little treats throughout the week to help you breathe.
May the best find you right where you are and be ready to accomodate you - in work, and everything else.
Keep going, you're doing brilliantly! 💚
Adorkable Twilight & Friends - “For Books"
Adorkable Patreon Pals
Adorkable Twilight & Friends Twitter
Adorkable Twilight & Friends Wiki
Adorkable Twilight & Friends Deviant Art
My dad is entering hospice care. He has a few months, maybe.
I majorly fucked up something at work today and got my Friday evening disrupted with a bunch of frantic (and rightfully angry) phone calls about it.
I have a splitting headache.
I hate everything.
So my job is to be a very local encyclopedia of services so people can call or email me and go "how do I get on the housing register" and I tell them how to apply or "I've got no money or food" and I say "here's some free food places near you and a referral to the food bank" or "I'm stuck at home and I'm really lonely" in which case I'll chat with them for an hour and point them at services that can visit them weekly, etc.
And not to toot my own horn but I am bloody good at it. Need to consider 16 things at once and how they interact and what cancels out another thing? ADHD person. Got it covered.
But I have also been raising the point that we are getting more referrals a month and they are more complex. I've been saying this since last April when the local council cut the Adult Social Care budget. So now we're getting social workers making one referral to us for six different things rather than doing the six things themselves.
And I am FRIED.
Some of the referrals we make take 45 minutes to type, let alone the conversation to get the info and the recording.
There are two of us working 40 hours a week between us dealing with 50 queries in that time.
And we got a new contract from the council but I haven't been told if there's more hours for staff in it and I lost my shit at my manager.
I've worked adjacent to statutory services for 12 years and this is the most bullshit I've ever seen