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comradelionheart · 3 years

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This is where I feel safest.

In the blueness of this site, held in comfort as if under my blanket of soft fur.

No one here will ever know who I am or the people I speak of. No one can find me here. I have a questionable habit of running off to avoid being witnessed when I fail or am in pain, and this is where I run to. It is luckily not a boy this time. Well, it’s sort of that too, but not predominantly.

I haven’t shut G out this time. When I thought I’d lost my shot at the job I deleted my WhatsApp and all other social media, and refused to surface until I was willing to face people again. This isn’t unlike when I graduated college uncertain of what to do with life next and just... vanished. I’d a pretty promising presence on Facebook that could potentially have introduced him and I sooner, but I guess life unravels at its own pace and nothing can force it to go sooner or slower. I’ve grown rather accepting of failures because I have unfortunately grown accustomed to them. It’s almost like I expect to meet with resistance or failure each time something nearly works out and in this case I can’t say I willed it upon myself. I literally tested positive for TB. Which is amusing since those are my ex’s initials, and is yet another TB which seems to be hampering my progress.

Dry humour is what I’m best at if I’m being my authentic self. I must unfortunately smile and wave because I’m a woman and need to be likeable to get anywhere in my line of work. That isn’t to say I’m a sociopath or hate people. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend to be interested in their lives and feign amusement at their not so novel ideas. Pretty sure I’ve not so novel ideas too, but I don’t need to be indulged for the sake of my (not) fragile ego. Anyhow.

I applied for this job early in the year and didn't expect to hear from them (because the first few years of my work life had me flailing and coping with depression instead of steering my career, and I know I shouldn’t grudge her for this but I do). But I did hear from them. And everything went through. Including 3 rounds of aptitude tests and a personal interview (which I thought I bombed but didn't somehow). Until I tested positive on a skin patch test for TB. Why do these stupid standard sets of tests get prescribed world over? Honestly, if I’m ever supreme leader of anywhere I will ban standardised tests. Not in the way that I say medicine is a sham, not at all, but in the way that WE LIVE IN THE THIRD WORLD AND WILL OF COURSE HAVE TAKEN THE BCG OR HAVE BEEN EXPOSED TO THE BACTERIA AT SOME POINT BUT IT’S NOT NECESSARILY EVER GOING TO BE ACTIVE SO USE A BETTER AND MORE CONTEXT SPECIFIC TEST INSTEAD OF GIVING ME ANXIETY AND EXISTENTIAL CRISES LIKE THESE, JFC. 😭😭😭

But I’ve taken the other test and that’s also got the drawback of being unable to differentiate between inert and active TB. So I took an HRCT scan. I’m so sick of running around hospitals, there’s a literal virus in the air. But Monday is when I’ll know the medical verdict. And then there’s the whole security check process. I hate when this happens but I’ve lost so much time to grief, I simply cannot sit around moping any longer.

Earlier this year I interviewed with the **. I was given a verbal confirmation and had a text message implying an offer was made to me, because I received an acknowledgement to my acceptance of an offer. If I was the person I was in 2014, I’d have kicked up a fuss and made sure that offer was honoured, but 2021 me knows that working with bosses who go back on their word slyly and cave to nepotism usually need their cocks sucked. And I’m not only incapable of that, but have also dealt with enough workplace harassment elsewhere to be adamant about a brand at the risk of my mental health. But really, he can go suck it because I have confirmation from staff that he is EVERYTHING I read him to be. I’m not intuitive or anything, I just read people very well because I was hurt so bad by them (repeatedly since childhood) that reading people became a thing I did for survival. My sharp instincts serve me well, but are a trauma response. I am very self aware too, yes.

I then interviewed and got through an NGO that was willing to pay me 24L. I turned it down because the founders were running around like headless chicken with their inability to distinguish PR from Marketing Comms (me) from Marketing for business development. I know I was being paid a lot of money, but I will not kill myself performing all three functions while being acknowledged for just the one on my offer letter. I’ve learned to value my labour capacity and assert myself in the economic and political spheres.

Personally though? I sometimes still think I’m a romantic pushover.

But this is about work because I need to weep a little before being calm about how this year has treated me. Especially since I’m maintaining a cool demeanour in public and literally hate sharing things I’m burdened with. Idk man, it makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like feeling like I’ll get a knife twisted in the spot that's most sore. I AM SCREAMING BECAUSE I HAVE LET G WITNESS ME IN PAIN THIS TIME INSTEAD OF RUNNING AWAY and will someday file copyright over An Enduring Romantic because that’s very honestly me. But ofc it isn’t going to be the legal Copyright, just the sham notice like the one I’d sent him to up his Instagram game. Or he could just operate my Twitter and I’ll run his gram. It’ll even feel natural.

Sometime around May an environmental journal asked me to come on board. Work from the office at the height of the pandemic with no travel compensation and very little money. I turned them down. Then came II**. Which I again turned down because they wouldn’t pay market rate for skills I’ve perfected in 4 years just because they wanted 8 years experience on paper for my quotation. I will do a lot for causes I love, but I also really enjoy being paid fairly and acknowledged for the value I bring to the table.

Then came the start up in Del. Which I turned down because the uncle running it in his wife’s name expected 24*7 labour availability for 12L with no health insurance.

The latest in my list of things I’ve turned down is the ** Gov. Which I can obviously go back to since my reason for turning it down was another job, but 14 days of leave all year? 7 day work week if needed? Hell no. I enjoy having labour rights. But also when I told the dude I’d be reporting to if I accepted that I cant accept due to covid concerns his reaction was “sure, send me an email so we can start looking for someone else immediately.” Like.... we just had a second wave, what if something was wrong? I wouldn’t risk losing my job because they expect work even if I were hypothetically coughing up blood. So best not to touch with a bargepole. Now I’m less sad, but also really hope the TB results are negative. This job I want and have said yes to ticks off all of the boxes in my head and I will truly be disappointed if I lose it to disease paranoia despite being completely suited and picked for the role 😞

Just to be on the safer side, I have taken one last shot at achieving my goal of ‘learn how political systems work so you know what you’re talking about first hand in that PhD.’ I hope my Plan A works out instead, though.

Since I’ve brought him up in this, it will be interesting to note that a year ago I did the erstwhile unthinkable act of cutting a friend of for attempting to steal a man I love. A year ago to the date, literally. Funny how this year is more calm, but I was maxed out on endorphins from him last year. Until this March even, if I’m being truthful. I don’t regret cutting her off.She crossed a vvvv red line. ALL my other friends are celebrating. They detested her.

Another thing that happened last year was me letting him know that I only get hotter with time, but along with this work drama I have also had a run in with intense grief which I thought was a mood disorder (because it was intense, I mentioned?), cholesterol, thyroid, sugar addiction and now, le TB (PLEASE BE A FALSE POSITIVE YESU KRISTU HALP). So needless to say, I haven’t been most fabulous and undergone my physical transformation and these mental health struggles (are getting better now) strapped me to my couch along with the pandemic and its many lockdowns. I have also not studied for the GRE because I’m stimulus seeking via social media and fear of sucking at math has kept me locked in place. I still have a lot to work through on this front and would really like to make his cover right too, but my creativity isn't working and I keep fucking it up. I am not as spectacular as I was last year. The separation has also weathered my dazzle out a little and while I’m living with it, I still have small waves of sadness that show up once in a while.

I might have also accidentally flirted with someone into falling for me. It was all fun and games and for my pride, but now I’ve to gently let them down since I’ve cold feet and am chicken. Because I’m as emotionally unavailable as a streetlamp. Is this why they call me a Gurgaoni fuckboi?

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cryoculus · 4 years

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More love for Semi please? Anything will do, your writing is exquisite in any form anyway :D

» Word Count: 1,857 wordsCross-posted on AO3

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE :(( I actually wrote three chapters’ worth of content for him already and you can read the whole thing on the ao3 link.(NOTE: This is based on the current events of the final arc of the Haikyuu manga. I tagged it as a spoiler but I won’t really go into the specifics of what’s going on. Semi is our main focus here ^__^)

—

“Please?”

“No,” was your flat reply.

Semi heaved a long sigh, mouth twitching into an irritated grimace. You returned his reaction with a sassy look of your own—one, finely penciled brow quirked as bright, red lips rivalled the adamance that Semi brought about. While you were in no position to tell him to just go back to his cubicle and get today’s work done (you, sadly, held the same position in office), you at least had the right to turn him down. Your department had a monthly financial report coming up. Why on Earth did he want your help writing a song?

“Come on,” he groaned. “You know I’d eat my fist first before asking for your help, but our manager really digs your old pieces from college.”

Your eye twitched.

“Way to beg for someone’s aid in a time of dire need,” you bit back sarcastically. “Go do it then.”

“What?”

“Eat your whole fist.” You gave him a pointed look, even making a show of paying attention by putting your pen down.

Your co-worker let out a frustrated groan, fingers carding through his messy, ashen hair. The gesture made the tattoos on his chest visible for a second, before disappearing again behind his barely done button-up. It was a mystery, how a man like him made it as a public servant—with his flamboyant piercings and tip-dyed hair—but you supposed you should learn to look past physical appearances. The agency allowed it, so why should you make a fuss?

Ah, right. Semi Eita was the most hot-headed man in your department, and he had a knack for picking fights with you.

“If you get the balance sheet done by five o'clock, I might reconsider,” you told him, not really meaning the words, as you directed your attention back at the paperwork on your desk. Balance sheets are the toughest to fill out, since the data needed had to be collated from different sectors of the city. You highly doubted that Semi, with his thinner-than-a-strand-of-hair patience, could finish it in one sitting.

“Deal.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked back up at him. “Come again?”

“Are you deaf?” he asked, folding lean arms across his chest. “I said it’s a deal.”

You couldn’t help the snort that made its way past your lips. Whatever his reasons may be, it was painfully obvious that he was desperate. But still. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry out the deed in your given deadline, but instead of talking him out of his own agreement, you merely shook your head in acceptance.

Semi eventually stalked off to his cubicle; the one just in front of yours. There was a divider that separated each employee’s workspace from the others, and it at least granted some semblance of privacy from outside gazes. You’ve been to Semi’s cubicle a couple of times—more to coordinate paperwork than engage in conversation, really—and he decorated his personal space exactly how a part-time rock band vocalist would. Though he didn’t exactly put up posters and painted the walls black, he added his own flair to his desk with guitar figurines, neon stickers on his desktop, and a photo of his bandmates enclosed in a sparkly picture frame.

The only reason you bothered looking so closely was the fact that you also went to the same university together (under the same degree, too!) You’ve always been keen around him, with his loud way of living, as opposed to you, who’s always chosen to live simply and without pretentiousness. Sure, the disparity between your lifestyles had caused you to be at each other’s throats since freshman year, but it was still a surprise that your synergy was top notch. You would, as Semi put it so delicately, eat your fist first before admitting to the fact, but it’s a given that you preferred to work with him instead of other, unfamiliar people.

You sighed, brandishing a bored look at the bleak document in front of you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help him out…

But when you recalled every time he’s talked over you during board meetings, sneered at you when he got a higher score during exams, and his distateful behavior in general, you steeled your resolve.

Either he’s going to get that balance sheet over with or he’ll keel over. If he wanted your help, he’s going to have to work for it.

—

You were in the middle of fixing your belongings when the sound of a stack of papers hitting your desk rang in your ears.

“There,” Semi said breathlessly, making you look up at him in surprise. He even tossed a flash drive on top of the papers he deposited, where you saw the city hall’s heading printed in full color. You reluctantly checked your phone for the time. 16:57, it said, in a mockingly bold typeface before shoving it in your pocket.

The damn guy really did get it done before five.

“The electronic document is saved in there, in case you lose the print.” He was panting at this point, and you had a vague idea as to why he looked like he just ran a marathon. The one printer in your department (this year’s budget was cut) broke down a few days ago, and the nearest functional one was at the Logistics office three floors down.

Still refusing to believe it, you peered at the documents he just brought in. You scanned each of the entries printed on each page. That’s when you realized that Sendai City’s expenses have skyrocketed since the new year because the list of expenses occupied a whole page alone. A worried sigh made its way past your lips, but at least the liabilities were cut down to a minimum. You heard that the governor of Miyagi was going to pledge a few hundred thousand yen for the city’s founding anniversary, too.

You paused. Blinking, you rearranged the papers neatly back into its pile—biting back the urge to clutch your wounded pride. Semi was looking at you expectantly, like he wanted you to praise his flawless bookkeeping.

In actuality, his determination was beginning to freak you out.

“Why do you want me to help you so badly?” you asked, voice almost trembling. “Seriously, dude. I thought we hated each other. Quit acting out of character.”

“I told you, our manager really liked the songs you composed back in senior year,” he drawled, tired of having to repeat himself.

Your face twisted in confusion. “Who even is this manager of yours?”

There was a half-second delay in his response, but before you could paint a reason for his hesitation, he immediately replied with, “Saito. Saito Makoto.”

You stiffened, gaze going rigid at the mention of that name. “Oh.”

“Yeah. If I manage to give him a piece by the end of the month, he’ll help us sign a contract with a big-shot record label,” Semi explained, oblivious to your discomfort.

“But haven’t you been writing songs since high school?” you wondered aloud. “That’s what you said during our Pol-Gov class ice breaker.”

He frowned. “You still remember that?”

Okay. You kept forgetting that your sharp memory wasn’t always a praiseworthy thing. You gulped, feeling the heat creep up your face. “Um, anyway, the point still stands. You’ve been writing songs for God-knows-how-long, and while I’m not one to dish out compliments especially to you, I’m pretty sure they’re okay if you managed to gather a decent fanbase.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the divider of your cubicle. “We’re a rock band. I write rock songs, but Saito wants me to write a goddamn love song.”

Typical Saito. Though he looked like a rugged high school delinquent, he was awfully sentimental when it came to music. He was the one who inspired you to write the songs Semi was pestering you about all day after all…

“Fine,” you relented. “I never go back on my word and since you did a…good job with this, I’ll help you out.”

His light brown eyes lit up for a moment, but Semi managed to mask his relief in a split second—containing his excitement in a single nod. “Are you free this Saturday? You can come by my place and we could start getting to work.”

Well, that was forward of him. You expected to work on the song in a coffee shop or something, but he went on ahead and invited you to his own humble abode anyway. You parsed through your weekend plans in your mind, and once you confirmed that you were free, you scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note. Almost five years of acquaintance and you’d never bothered giving it to him. Huh.

“Just text me the time and place,” you told him, pocketing the flash drive as you slipped the balance sheet in one of the empty folders in your organizer. “You better not pull anything funny and lead me to a secluded alley or something.”

Semi scoffed, folding the piece of paper and sticking it inside his trousers. “As if.”

You then slung your bag across your shoulders, grinning insincerely. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With that, Semi exited your cubicle, leaving you no room to wonder why he didn’t even spare a quick ‘thank you’.

Just as you were smoothing out the creases on your pencil skirt, your phone began buzzing in the pocket of your blazer. Brows raised, you fished it out and unlocked it.

From: Makohey, wanna grab some dinner? its on me :3

Speak of the devil. You swallowed the lump in your throat, fingers shakily managing to type a coherent reply.

To: MakoYeah sure. Where to tho

From: Makocan we get some italian? ik u love the udon place across the street but akane’s having dinner w her friends there

From: Makocant have her seeing us together now do we

The way he put that so casually made your chest constrict with a too-familiar sensation. You heaved a deep breath, pursing your lips into a thin line as you sent a quick “Ok” text to end your conversation. Saito replied with those iffy heart-eyed emojis that he only ever used when he wanted something from you, and you had to compose yourself so you wouldn’t burst into tears right there.

“Oi.”

You almost jumped at the sound of Semi’s voice as he peered inside your cubicle once more. He clutched his suitcase in one hand, eyeing you curiously.

“What do you want?”

“You’re headed uptown, too, right?” he asked, and you nodded reluctantly. “Thought you’d want a lift.”

“Semi, just because I’m helping you achieve your dreams, doesn’t mean you have to be nice to me.” You laughed softly, tension easing from his uncalled for kindness.

He, however, looked unconvinced. “Do you want a ride or not?”

You raised your hands in defeat, managing a genuine smile. “Alright, fine. It’ll be a hellish commute anyway.”

You liked to think that that’s how you started becoming friends with your odd, hot-headed co-worker.

#haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #shiratorizawa #hqscenario #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu spoilers #hq headcanons #hq!! headcanons

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kazmorosov · 5 years

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|| bill skarsgard, cismale, he/him || ( kazaran morozov ) is a ( 25 ) year old ( senior ) at rockport university studying ( business + literature [TA] ). people say they are ( ardent ) but also ( stoic ), and remind others of ( coffee rings on crisp paper, losing their sense of reality, hushed arguments ). bet they sure didn’t expect anyone to know about ( his plagiarizing to succeed and honor his terminally ill mother he killed ) but someone does, and ( kaz ) better cooperate if they plan to keep their lives. || james, 20, EST ||

hi i’m so sorry this took a long ass time to put out but im herE lmao here’s my baby

tw; murder, addiction/substance abuse, abuse mentions,

gen. info:

full name: kazaran nikolai morozov

nickname(s): kaz

b.o.d.: december 14th

label(s): the escapist, the academic, the fallen, the philanthropist, etc.

height: 6′4″

hometown: bangor, maine

sexuality: str...aigh...t ? question mark ?

biography:

born to a self-made businessman and a philanthropist with a penchant for odd names

his father’s a russian who moved to the u.s. in his childhood who still has many...unique, ties, to the country though none of those are important

his business involves military equipment and he works closely with the u.s.’s military (ahsdfghk conspiracies ?)

and his mother was a plain jane (literally--her name was jane) from a family of politicians; his uncle’s a senator

kaz is the eldest out of seven children (christ) and yes all of their names are just as excessive as ‘kazaran’

grew up with the pressure of the ‘golden child’ title; kaz had to be perfect at everything he did, from his grades to after school activities to manners and presentment

was always expected to follow in his father’s footsteps and like ?? partner with him once he was old enough?

which is fine and grand except kaz had never given a shit about his father’s business; his real passion had always been for the arts, particularly literature and even more particularly poetry

he found that the arts was probably the most...free, kaz could get, without actively rebelling against his father

b/c god . . . his father is a force to be reckon’d w/

very strict man, likes to be in control constantly, not the...best, emotionally towards his family. or verbally. sometimes physically. y’know.

this really only...amplified, kaz’s perfectionist attitude. it was mostly out of fear of repercussions than much else

kaz has, however, always loved his mother.

jane is the opposite of their father, a woman who loves the world and everybody in it with this...heart of gold, and best intentions in mind

the only problem was that she was horribly submissive to her husband

aNYWAys okay, kaz grew up fairly unscathed but only because he was so...conformist, y’know?

loves his siblings and would die for them, but god--he’d have to side with his father just for his own sake, which definitely strained his relationship with a few of ‘em

AnywAys again; was pretty well-known in his high school

for being like, intimidatingly tall but also was fairly popular? star of the track team, student gov president, in DECA or whatever.

went to rockport just because it wasn’t...too far from home, and partially because he wasn’t allowed to go out of state.

and he was fine w/ it, man

his mother got sick his freshmen year, however, it wasn’t...horrible, at first

it was concerning, yes, but the doctors said she was going to be fine

jane was pretty...adamant about not letting her condition effect her children, too, so she acted as if she was fine

kaz, being a dumbass, was like alright fine this is fine and went on w/ life

sophomore year he met his soulmate; a future veterinarian named freya

n i mean he just...fell for her immediately, y’know ?? n ig she felt similar enough b/c they started dating immediately

it was really...good, for him; especially as his mother’s heath had suddenly taken a turn for the worst

kaz wound up taking two years off of school to care for his mother; his father was gone more often than not, and he felt as if his younger siblings shouldn’t have been burdened with the task

and well...jane never got better, only worse

it was at the point where the doctors had sent her home, knowing that nothing else could be done--she was confined to her bed, and miserable. in pain, really.

one...day, as kaz was tending to jane, she broke down. i mean, just, a full on emotional breakdown, a complete episode, begging him to just...put her out of her misery.

and, god, kaz had never disobeyed his parents (minus his studies in literature but y’knw what. . . not important rn) but that was so ?? morally ?? conflicting ??

they cried together for a long time until y’know. deciding what to do.

as soon as she had fallen asleep, kaz put a pillow to her.

he was never...caught, tho that may have involved some bribery on his father’s end who knows

the day after the funeral, kaz proposed to freya and she agreed.

and it really should’ve been fine if kaz’s mental health didn’t rapidly deteriorate like...he was not handling it well

freya helped, yes, but she could only do so much

turned to drugs, particularly painkillers after a minor car crash and just...a mix of shit, y’know.

probably stole drugs from his fiance’s job tbh

got on antidepressants, which only worsened his shit b/c he started ?? occasionally hallucinating his dead mother ??

his creativity had also just. shat on itself. he couldn’t write, no matter how hard he tried

his mother had really wanted him to pursue his dreams, and god, he was too far in his degree to drop literature

so he started....plagiarizing, his works, b/c kaz is a whole ass idiot. but he hasn’t gotten caught yet, somehow

his fiance thought the cruise program would be a great way for kaz to possibly, recover, since she could see how bad he was doing so he weNt because of her

also yes at this point he had gone back to school; had even gotten a TA position because he used to be...one of the best in his class, y’know ?

anyways yeah im paraphrasing this all horribly but idc u get the point

drug addict, mercy-killed his mother, loves his fiancee, tortured soul, y’know all that

personality:

likes to pretend he’s much calmer than he actually is, y’know

likes the whole aloof and distant thing b/c it’s already so easy for him to be intimidating

he can b a lil snarky, a lil sarcastic, but he’s overall always been really well meaning?

can be extremely passionate about his hobbies, or his future wife, or really...anything he mildly likes, tho, y’know?

gOD is he always feeling so guilty, tho, it really weighs him down

but he’s also like...usually high, sometimes u can tell but more often than not u can’t ??

because he’s obsessed w/ seeming okay. and doing okay. and being that average dude next door, y’know?

he wants to be normal, to feel normal, but he’s got this wave of emotions crashing into his chest and he’s in sm pa i n constantly

like he’s got major anxiety but u won’t know unless u catch him in midst of a panic attack and like he’d rather die than somebody see that

probably journals as a way 2 like...cope, and keep himself calm

uuhh he’s like lowkey a huge softie. will cry at sad movies and won’t care tht he’s crying about it

takes teaching rly seriously but he’s also always concerned somebody’s going to figure out that he’s just. a fraud.

smart, with dumbass energy

like he just...sometimes doesn’t think ??

loves his fiancee a whole bunch but this distance thing is...sm harder than he thought it would be. she’s his anchor and he’s just ?? floating aimlessly now

but yeah he’s always acting like he’s okay, like he’s gucci.

uuuhhhh god i dont know what else to say tbh ?? he’s just. a mans. being a mans.

probably doesn’t sleep super often b/c not only is he a TA, but he’s got some mf nightmares man

wanted connections:

got a girl best friend but he needs a...dude best friend?

other friends in general, honestly

professors he’s got some sort of relationship with b/c he’s working for penelope rn

a flirty unrequited thing, where they keep tryn but kaz is like nO i am TAKEN look at this photo of my beAUTIFUL FIANCEE

ppl pissed at him for the grades he’s given them LMAO

people...concerned? for him?

bad mf influences who are like LET’S GET FUCKED UP

a dealer y’know. somebody on the ship who can give him what he wants which is a Lot

uuh let’s brainstorm together, bb

like srsly just. gimme a like, i’ll pop into ur dms w/ my messy tall son and be like let’s fuck him up !

#rockportintro #sorry this is also . . . lame

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