Crying Because :((((( Literal Tears In My Eyes I'm About To Breakdown

crying because :((((( literal tears in my eyes I'm about to breakdown

𝟏𝟎:𝟑𝟎 𝐏𝐌 — ft. imaushi wakasa

wakasa likes it when you let him lay his head on your lap, and when you play with his hair.

hell, he loves it when you tug the elastic out of his locks and tangle your fingers in the coloured stripes of his hair, because god it feels so good after an entire day of having his hair all up in that tight ass ponytail.

he likes it best when you're both sprawled over your shared bed, muttering to eachother random comments about what happened through out your day, and he can see the crescent moon through the window.

outside, he might be the unphased, powerful and infamous executive of brahman, but once it's all over and he can come home and spend some time with you, that side of him dissolves.

he dissolves, into your hold, melting at your touch like you're the sun coming through the kitchen window and he's the ice cubes you always put in the coffee you drink at the start of your day.

he used to call shinichiro a sap, for constantly complaining about not having someone to coddle and take care of him - but now, he knows there's not a day he can survive without you around to treat him like he's something soft and fragile and sweet, after so long of being impassive, hard and battle-ready.

"there's a bruise here, waka." you gently press at his left shoulder blade. he's laying on his stomach, face pressed to your thigh, eyes shut.

"hm?" he pretends he's half asleep, hoping you won't get up. "oh. yeah, that's nothing. just leave it."

"it's purple, waka." you press, and he feels you moving, trying to ease him off you so you can get up. "let me get some ointment—"

"no, wait." he grabs your wrist and pulls you back - you turn to him, and he lifts himself off the sheets and sits up, hair falling in seams to curtain the sides of his face. pretty.

"what?" you question, and he has to take a moment to gather his thoughts. he blinks at you, long lashes throwing shadows across his face.

"one kiss." he says, and you raise an eyebrow.

"a kiss." he repeats. "gimme a kiss, and then you can go get the ointment."

you roll your eyes at him, then raise your hand as if to flick his forehead - but instead, you lace your fingers around the back of his neck and pull him close, land a peck on his lips.

"thanks." he gives you that half smile of his, lazily affectionate, and lets go of you so you can go get the ointment for him.

he's surprised when you lean back in and touch his forehead with your lips gently, before getting up and walking out of the room, muttering under your breath about kitchen drawers or something - he doesn't catch your words properly, because he's too busy thinking that, damn.

there really isn't going to be a day where he'll make it without you there with him. if shinichiro saw him now, he'd say, hah, you're the real sap.

but wakasa doesn't mind. he wouldn't mind being called anything, if it meant he was with you . . . and on that same note, he wouldn't really mind having shinichiro come round and call him a sap, either.

I Love You

suna drabble warnings : kissing; not proofread hehe

You were woken up by a familiar ringtone, which hasn’t been heard in while, at least for a week now.

Shuffling in your bed, you swear subconsciously to kill this particular person whoever they were, who even had the audacity to ruin the perfect sleep you got after pulling all nighters for the past week for assignments and some other reasons.

“Hello?”, you greet them a curse inside your head.

“Open the door.” he grogs on the other side.

~Pause. 

The voice on the other side seemed to pull you back to life, from all autopiloting thoughts that’s been directing  to all the work you’ve doing for the past some days.

“Rin?”

“Open the door, baby, I’m freezinmmg.” His voice trembled enough to let you hear even his sulk through the phone.

“Rin, it’s 3 am, for God’s sake.” Your voice sounded mad, as Suna cringes but all the extra noises of you shuffling and your fast, almost running steps said otherwise.

You opened the door, and the big man as if he would die if he didn’t do it, slumps all his weight all over you, in the most dramatic way, his head nuzzling all it’s way to your crook and kissing your skin softly.

“Ugh, you’re heavy, idiot.” You protest. “And why are you even here? Did you forget-”, you tried to remind him, the truth, the reason why he shouldn’t be in your arms tonight.

“No-, don’t say it.” Suna sulks even more. He nuzzles even more harshly, and pushing you enough you lose your balance and and let your back fall on the couch behind you. But before you could say anything, or even throw a knife or a glass at his face(which ofc he knows you won’t),Suna lifted his face and pulled you in for a kiss.

He kisses you, almost as if he’s gonna die if he didn’t do it now. He’s missed you so fucking much,  and after the small fight you had with him(yea SMALL fight, yea in uppercase, bc it wasn’t actually small at all), and you started not picking up his calls and never returned his texts, he did some “making up his mind” according to the twins, and now he’s here to make it up to you.

His tongue follows yours as you try break the kiss, now Suna seemed like he’s almost about to swallow your face whole if you didn’t give in, so after some 30 seconds of playing tag, your tongue finally allows his to entangle on yours together.

 The kiss is loud, and sloppy, the sound rings the whole neighbourhood. Your lips tear off his, for a millisecond to take a breather , but he comes back in for another round.

You push him off, after God knows how many decades has passed, but he pulls you in for a hug. A tight one at that.

“Rin, are you trying to kill me today? You’re not letting me breathe. And what are you doing here?”

“I love you.” He blurts.

And that puts everything at halt again.

You wonder how this six foot tall man even answers in actual exams, because that answer he gave, was a whole180 degrees turn from the question you just asked him. But then again, it’s Suna Rintaro. It’s your man. He doesn’t know the shit he puts you through,but he loves you. It’s evident without any proof. It’s like an axiom. 

“I love you.” Suna says it one more time.

He says it again. And you seem to get what he’s trying to say.

“I love you-”

“I love you too, Rin. Alright? Can we go back to bed now? Hm?”

— a little too late

in which alhaitham comes to terms with his inner emotions regarding you.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1k wc, implications of one-sided pining/unrequited love, kinda angsty?? no fluff though aha..

A/N : my contribution to @spiriteddreams’ a studio ghibli valentine’s event with the prompt the heart’s a heavy burden !! ive been churning out too many haitham fluffs so have a semi-angsty one for the balance <;//3

while he may not be of the amurta darshan, matters of the heart isn’t something unfamiliar to alhaitham. he’s memorised its components, the anatomical structure, what can be considered a healthy heart and what can’t be, its functions, the inner workings of blood flow and (de)oxygenation, and so on and so forth. all the important, factual information one would ever need when studying the organ is readily at his disposal.

as for its emotional value and it “skipping a beat”… well, isn’t it just down to adrenaline? the excitation and early contraction of the atria is the most common explanation, after all.

so naturally, this reaction of his can be boiled down to the released hormones accelerating his heart rate, the abnormal beats drumming in rapid succession would obviously be the cause of his short breath, thus creating the chain reaction of chest pain, lightheadedness, and the occasional “above what is deemed normal” temperature.

it’s obvious. it’s simple. it’s the natural way of life. it’s…

inconceivable, he thinks. for what reason does his heart need to act in such a way? he sees none, and he certainly can’t think of one (especially not through this all-consuming ache constantly bubbling from within).

and so he resorts to the most logical choice at his disposal; you.

you’re someone in tune with the inner-workings of the heart on a more emotional level — someone whose judgement he trusts over those he’s constantly surrounded with. if there’s anyone who can give him a logical answer which doesn’t make him want to tear his hair out, then it’s you.

you’re not hard to find, and certainly not easy to miss. his eyes effortlessly track your movements and, in a moment of reprieve only conveyed through the recognition alighting your expression upon catching his stare, his heart leaps to his throat; palpitations ring through his ears. there’s a sensation which toes the fine line of pain and euphoria. it nestles within the crevices of his thumping organ before spreading across the expanse of his skin, its surface burning under the weight of your cheery gaze.

the world comes to a standstill.

perhaps he’d been out of it for too long — why else would you suddenly dominate his sight, brows furrowed and lips pursed at his silence.

your lips part; his gaze flickers at the movement. “are you alright? you seem out of it.”

shrill sirens blare within his conscience, blood thrumming under his warmed skin. an answer sits at the tip of his tongue (one of reassurance in that he is fine — never been better, in fact) but a lodge wedges itself down his throat, reducing his speech into nothing but unintelligible gapes and heavy gulps. in spite of his efforts, there’s no string of coherency pushing past his lips. instead, there’s a gnawing desperation which runs deep, one that has alhaitham struggle to hold back the indescribable urge to pull you close and spill repressed sentiment from the depths of his heart.

ultimately, he finds himself succumbing to a war he’s long since lost when your head tilts at him.

“i feel terrible,” he murmurs, knuckles white and strained fingers digging into where his sternum rests, a futile attempt to reach in and claw into the rapidly pounding organ gnawing away at him from within, “like there’s a heavy weight on my chest.”

it’s hasty, rushed, and far more desperate than he was expecting to come off as. but it was beyond his control, the emotions running rampant within his system clouding his rationality. his gaze doesn’t stray from you, lips parting to force out phrases he never realised were in his repertoire. “i feel as though i can’t breathe. when i look at you, talk to you, feel your presence by my side, all sense of logic i possess disappears and makes me into a fool. i…” he trails off, teeth digging into his bottom lip. a part of him screams to not say the next words, and yet the larger, critical aspect of his mind ignores these fleeting emotions. “i dislike this feeling.”

his stomach sinks in tandem with the faint dimming of your eyes. it’s odd; why aren’t you laughing off his worries like usual? are you, perhaps, feeling as sick as he?

(the silence suffocates him more than anything he’s experienced before.)

contrary to his rampaging thoughts, you smile, repressed and solemn. “a heart’s a heavy burden; sometimes, we just have to accept what it’s trying to tell us, no matter how painful or unpleasant it may be.” and just like that, you fade from his sight, the only indication of your presence being the half empty cup and your scent which lingers like a taunt.

body set aflame, alhaitham discovers his heart is capable of further distortions. for instance, he’s never experienced such constrictions before he witnessed the light in your eyes dim, nor the dread which pools at the pits of his stomach as you stood from your seat and turned away, head spinning and chest caving in as your figure begins to fade further and further away from him — somewhere far beyond his reach.

what was that? why didn’t you answer in your usual cheery manner that has him suppressing smiles left and right? why did the captivating twinkle in your eyes grow dim? were you really feeling sick as well? if so, why didn’t you tell him beforehand; had he known, he would have…

oh.

lips agape, alhaitham remains seated as he can only watch you grow distant from him — the minuscule glimpse of your strained smile dissipating into a tight grimace burns his retinas.

there’s a vague realisation which dawns on him in that moment, one that has the vice grip around his beating organ clamp even tighter with his senses numbing; he’s the cause of your strained smile dropping to a frown.

what crawls from the very depths of his stomach is unpleasant, strenuous convulsions following in its wake as the true nature of these vivid reactions within his body come to light.

“ah,” a chuckle devoid of emotion escapes him, the fingers tugging at his roots does little to ground the guilt which plagues him. “you’re such a fool, alhaitham.”

(perhaps if he’d been a little quicker — a little more in tune with his emotions… would he still be here with a heavy heart and a lack of you?)

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— it’s the small things with you that matter most

just some day-to-day snippets depicting how it’s like to be in a relationship with alhaitham.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 4.4k wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, slight crack, established relationship, idiots in love

A/N : HAPPY BDAY BELOVED HAITHAM !! smitten clingy sappy menace haitham is my lifeline huhu 〒▽〒 (this is also just me once again advocating cute/energetic readers with haitham TヘT)

(can be read as a standalone or viewed as the post-happenings of [how to woo the acting grand sage 101] ^^)

Navigating through a relationship with Alhaitham isn’t as hard as one might think.

The transition from friends-who-pined-for-years to lovers was a lot easier than you’d like to admit. While there were some significant changes to adjust to (read: Alhaitham’s sudden surge in displays of affection), your dynamic pretty much remained the same.

And while you’ve had your fair share of ups and downs, most of your more serious fights happened before you got together. Considering how long you both have known one another, it wouldn’t be an understatement to say you know the other like the back of your hand — understanding minuscule hints and mannerisms anyone else wouldn’t notice — and so, most disputes are settled before they can even surface.

Most of your fights wouldn’t drag on for long as you’re both pretty open to discussing the root cause and where you both were in the wrong. That and the fact it’s hard to be apart from each other under bad terms, as you’ve come to realise after the particularly bad argument you had two months ago (Kaveh demanded you both stay at your house so that he didn’t have to witness your intensified displays of affection after reconciling).

More often than not, your subject of disagreements are petty, typically resulting in revoked privileges of affection from the victim. That usually results in both sides being depraved and cranky (well, more so than usual in Alhaitham’s case) until the revoked privilege is, uh, unrevoked,

Well, it’s a good thing you both rarely argue!

Keep reading

tears in my eyes, what must I do to get this kind of love :(((

Eddie Munson is a forehead kiss guy. (Well an any kiss guy really but) LOVES when you’re sitting in his lap or laying over him and you push his curls up and away to plant a smooch. Refuses to admit it out loud but that kind of innocent show of affection makes him QUAKE. He’s already blushing, grinning like a goofball before you’re even pulling away to look at him. It makes you want to do it again, so you do. He always laughs the second time, tries to play it off by calling you a sap, but you can tell he loves it by the way his eyes have become all soft and shiny. Literally like a puppy dog he’ll lean forward into your mouth to get one more to the forehead, closer to between his eyebrows, before moving up to kiss the smug smile right off your face the second it appears.

:))

please reblog when you’re done!!!