#ROUGH animation cause I haven’t animated in years

[nickorite]

What’s in Henry’s head 24/7

Song: Passing Through by Kaden MacKay (mashup version)

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #2 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

It’s been about three weeks since you found out about Toji’s new girlfriend. You still haven’t met her or properly seen her yet, but from what the kids tell you, she seems nice. It still felt weird having to get used to the idea that your ex had actually moved on. It was silly to think about, you know. Having been married over five years and getting a divorce, you’d think that means you would be done with your ex, but no, it was quite the opposite. Toji and you were still at each other, flirting, kissing, having sex. Neither of you had essentially ‘moved on’ from one another. It was normal for the both of you. It just never clicked in your mind that he would actually leave and live his life like a divorce is intended to do.

You’ll pin that blame on yourself, thinking too much into what you had with him is what caused you to feel this jealousy in the first place. Having remembered how you were once her spot, being the girlfriend that he took everywhere and did everything with. Hell, shes even met your kids before she’s even met you. It was clear Toji felt serious about her, otherwise he would’ve never brought her around Megumi and Naya. That thought made something twist in your chest.

“Mommy?” Your daughter’s little voice pulled you from your thoughts. Her big eyes watching as you applied your moisturizer in the bathroom mirror, a stuffie in her arms.

“Yes, baby?” You smiled, kneeling down so you were eye level with her.

“Daddy is at the door. He’s asking for you.” She blinked, squeezing the stuffed animal in her arms. Usually Toji just comes on in announced, startling you when he suddenly speaks, but you found it weird that he was now waiting at the door to speak to you. You grabbed your daughter’s hand, walking her to living room where Megumi was watching teen titans and eating popcorn. “Ooo, is that starfire?!” You daughter ran towards her brother, letting go of your hand.

Your eyes landed on Toji who leaning against the door way, dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweats, a stoic look on his face. “Hi, mama,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“Can I talk to you really quick? Outside?” He nodded his head in the direction behind him.

“Yeah.” You nodded, following his footsteps as you shut the front door behind you. “Something wrong?” You looked at him.

“I won’t be able to take the kids this weekend,” he sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean? Why?” Your brows furrowed, standing there confused.

“I got…things to do,” he meekly answered. He kept his answer as vague as possible leaving little to nothing for you to go off of, but deep down you had a feeling it had something to do with his new girlfriend.

“Things to do? Like what?” You questioned, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue.

“Nothing important,” he quickly replied, sucking in a breath.

“If it’s not important then why can’t you take the kids? They’re not gonna be happy about this,” you try to explain. You couldn’t understand why he was being so secretive towards you all of sudden, especially when it came to his time with the children.

“Can you just accept the fact I can’t take them? Please?” He seemed to be getting impatient, rolling his eyes every time you questioned him on something. It was obviously bothering him.

“Does it have to do with your new girlfriend?” There was no harm in asking him, curiosity getting the better of you.

“That’s none of your business.” He tone was rough and stern, almost like you hit a nerve.

“Oh?” Your brows raised in surprise in his sudden change of attitude. “I think it is my business considering this involves your time with our children and the fact you bring her around our kids, Toji. It’s a simple yes or no question.”

He let out a scoff, averting his gaze in a different direction. A sigh left his lips as he ran his hands down his face. “Here you fucking go,” he groaned. “You’re getting jealous.”

“I’m sorry?” Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him.

“You’re getting jealous of her, aren’t you?” His question hung in the air for several seconds as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Here you go assuming shit like always. See this is why we can never have a normal conversation, cause you always wanna start something! Where the fuck did that even come from?” You were starting to see just why you and Toji got divorced. There was some truth to his words, about being jealous. Though, you were too stubborn to admit such a thing to someone like him. What good would it do you anyway? He’d probably just laugh in your face and walk off. “Have your weekend to yourself, Toji. I’ll find someone else to take care of Megumi and Naya.” You turn around to enter the house, not having the energy to argue with him.

“Woah, what do you mean someone else?” His hand is wrapped around your wrist as he pulls you back towards him. “Why can’t you?”

“Cause I have things planned! Pretty sure Shoko won’t mind watching them.” You snatch your wrist back from him, only for him to grab onto you again, pulling you back. “What, Toji?!” You ask in annoyance, sighing loudly.

“You got things planned? With who?” It almost made you laugh how he was the one asking so many questions, trying to peak in on your life.

“That’s none of your business,” you casually say as you stare him. His jaw clenches, finally letting go of your wrists. Both of you stared at each other for what seemed like several minutes when in actuality it was only a mere second. You had a date on Saturday night, someone you met while you were out shopping for groceries. He was handsome, and kind enough to ask you to a dinner, even offered to pay. It would be wrong if you said no because you wanted to say yes, so you did. His name was Kento Nanami. “Goodnight, Toji.” With those words, you walked back into the house and shut the door behind you, locking it.

“Mommy, what did daddy want?” You daughter asked, peaking up from behind the couch.

“I’ll tell you two tomorrow, just keep watching your show.” You smiled at the both of them, quickly rushing to your room to try shake off the funny feeling that you had. Why couldn’t he just be upfront with you? Tell you the truth? You wouldn’t mind if you he needed time to himself, but to come out and be secretive about it was a different story. Then, to start arguing with you simply reminded you of the times he and you fought over the stupidest things. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten so defensive, but you couldn’t help it.

You tried not to dwell on the situation too much, instead thinking about the date you soon had. You got walked over to your closet, skimming through the hanging clothes in search of a perfect dress to wear. Something elegant yet sexy is what you were going for. You didn’t want to wear anything too over the top in fear of scaring him away, but you wanted something that also showed him you weren’t a prude.

Finally, you landed on your favorite black dress, the corners of your mouth forming into a smile as your eyes scanned over the piece of fabric. “Perfect.”

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns

[paperultra]

THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER THREE: SMELL Word Count: 8,205 words Warnings: Swearing

“Hey, you! Join the photography club!”

You narrowly dodge the flyer thrust in front of your face, knocking back into someone in the process. Flustered, you move in the opposite direction, only to knock shoulders with another student walking the other way. Both of your apologies get lost in the noise.

“Join the basketball team! Winter Cup finalists two years in a row!”

“Improve your focus in calligraphy club!”

“Join kyudo club!”

“Join marching band!”

With a small huff, you grab the strap of Osamu’s schoolbag and squeeze through the crowd. Osamu looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his raised eyebrow with a grimace; not long after, a hand presses between your shoulder blades to usher you forward.

“Dammit,” Atsumu grumbles, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Where’s the volleyball club?”

“Hell if I know,” Osamu says. “Call Aran.”

“’S what I’m doin’, dumbass.” Punching a few buttons, the other boy presses his phone against his ear with visible impatience. “Aran!” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Atsumu’s voice carries high over the clamor surrounding you, causing several students to swivel their heads. “Where the hell’s the volleyball club? … Class 1-7? Seriously?”

Hanging up without so much as a thank-you, Atsumu quickens his stride down the congested hallway. Osamu follows suit, and you end up seizing the back of his blazer as the three of you head to Class 1-7, evading arms and signs and flyers the entire way.

Having visited the school before to watch Ojiro play, you had known that Inarizaki High School is big; navigating it as a student on the first day of school, however, is a whole different animal. You hadn’t realized it was this big. Or this crowded. After a year of being large fish in a small pond, you now find yourselves in an ocean.

At least you have the twins to rough it with.

(It should be noted that your thankfulness varies wildly from hour to hour.)

Near the entrance to Class 1-7, you spot Ojiro wielding a bright sign advertising the volleyball club. He easily stands head and shoulders above most of the other students, and the sight of a familiar face helps you relax – even though you’d just seen him at graduation a few weeks ago, he somehow looks older here, comfortable and self-assured in the raucous halls of Inarizaki.

“Yo! Aran!” Osamu and Atsumu call out, running up to the second-year. You, still holding onto Osamu’s blazer, are unceremoniously yanked along.

Ojiro perks up and grins widely when you all reach him, freeing one hand to bump fists with the twins. “’Bout time you guys showed up. Thought ya chickened out or somethin’,” he exclaims, then nods at you with a grin. “Good to see you here too, [L/n]-chan.”

You smile back. “Hi, Ojiro-senpai.”

(Of all the people the twins consider friends, which have always been rather scant in number, you like Ojiro Aran the best.)

“Chickened out?” Atsumu scoffs. “No way. You scrubs are gonna need us if ya wanna win nationals this year.”

A laugh bursts out of Ojiro’s chest. “Don’t ya think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yerself?”

“Yeah, well, what’s new?” Osamu pipes up. He elbows his brother’s side, jabbing a thumb at the doorway when the latter chokes up and glares. “Hurry yer ass up, ‘Tsumu, we haven’t even signed up yet.”

You cough. Ojiro laughs again, leading the three of you into the classroom.

There’s a ton of students already inside when you enter. In one corner of the room is the girls’ volleyball club, and in the other is the boys’, though many are mingling and wandering around to chat. A few are upperclassmen wearing the Inarizaki volleyball team’s jacket – the rest, you assume, are first-years hoping for a chance to join.

It’s not surprising for a school that’s gone to the Spring Tournament almost thirty times. Most of these applicants will be benched for their entire high school career.

Following Ojiro to the desk for the boys’ volleyball club, you encounter the two people sitting behind it.

“Arata-senpai, Kobayashi-senpai,” Ojiro announces, clapping one hand on Osamu’s shoulder and the other on Atsumu’s, “got a package deal for ya.”

The first thing you notice about Arata is how tall he is when he’s sitting down. Then he slowly stands up, and your eyes widen as he keeps going and going, finally stopping about half a head taller than Ojiro.

Arata breathes in, vulpine eyes narrowing, before he slams his hands down on the desk with a loud thwap.

“If it ain’t the Miya twins!” he chirps, voice much peppier than expected, and you choke back a surprised laugh. “I watched yer match last year at nationals. You two think ya have what it takes to be part of a powerhouse?”

“Why talk big when we can just show ya, senpai?” Atsumu says, as if he hadn’t been gassing himself up to Ojiro moments before. He pulls out his signup sheet, already filled out in his usual large, messy print, and slides it over to the captain, leaning over the desk with one hand on his hip. “Got yers, ’Samu?”

“Yup.” Osamu slides his over as well, handwriting slightly neater.

Arata takes the sheets happily. Your gaze falls upon his hands by chance, and then it remains there, taking stock of the scribbles of purple and red decorating his skin.

Ojiro whistles. “Looks like yer soulmate’s havin’ fun with some gel pens,” he comments, pointing at Arata’s hands.

“Hm?” The other boy blinks and takes a moment to inspect the words curving below his knuckles. His brow furrows, and he squints before finally breaking out into a goofy smile. “Ah,” he says, and his voice takes on a distinctly fonder, dreamier tone, “guess they are. They’ve been practicin’ hiragana a lot lately. See? Pretty good, eh?” Arata stretches his hands out face-down, showing them off.

(You can barely read the characters.)

“Neat,” Atsumu says, though his tone has flattened just slightly.

“Right?” Arata doesn’t seem to notice. “We’re gonna finally see each other in person next summer after I graduate. They’re graduating high school this June in Spain …”

“He’s really excited,” Ojiro mutters to the three of you, “in case ya couldn’t tell.”

The volleyball captain’s cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink. “What’s wrong with that, huh, Ojiro? I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with them, so it’s a good sign I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

Next to you, Osamu shifts and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. You feel his elbow brush against your arm, bare skin separated by layers of fabric.

The rest of your life.

A strange feeling forms in the pit of your stomach. It’s the same kind you get whenever your parents ask about Osamu, and whenever you see couples wearing matching outfits at the mall – a feeling a little less than longing, and a little more than guilt. Like you ought to be doing more, saying more, expressing more. Feeling more.

You wonder what it is like to be Arata, infatuated, proudly flaunting the colors on his hands.

The girl sitting at the desk finally speaks up.

“I thought we were talkin’ about volleyball, not yer love life, Arata.”

Your gaze moves away from Arata’s wrists and onto the girl.

Still sitting, she and the captain paint a picture of a mouse and an elephant, her tiny form complemented by large, expressionless eyes and a small nose. The maroon jacket hanging off her shoulders looks one size too big.

And yet, when her gaze flicks over and meets yours, you’re overtaken by a sudden chill.

Scary.

Arata jumps and glances down at her. “O-Oh, right! Sorry, Kobayashi-chan, I guess I got carried away.”

“It’s fine.” Kobayashi continues to stare at you, and you start to feel slightly uncomfortable. “’S why I’m here.”

“Yeah!” Coughing, Arata rubs the back of his neck and turns his attention back to the twins. “Gettin’ back on track … if it isn’t obvious already, Kobayashi-chan is our manager. She’s real good. Real detailed.”

“But I’m also in my third year, which means we’re currently lookin’ for a new manager for next year,” Kobayashi supplies. “So if ya happen to know any first-years who’re qualified and willing to apply for the right reasons, please let me know.”

Your brow furrows at that.

“Whaddaya mean, ‘the right reasons’?” Osamu asks.

A sheepish laugh escapes Arata’s throat. “Well … the volleyball team’s pretty popular, so we get a lot of folks wantin’ to be manager just to get closer to the team and see if one of the members is their soulmate.” He sighs. “It’s not that I wanna keep any soulmates apart, but those kinds of applicants slow down the search, and obviously, we want a manager who actually wants to manage.”

Ah. Already, some of your peers already seem like they’re on a time crunch to find their person. Soulmates are getting to be a bigger and bigger deal as you get older, and with that comes certain expectations. It’s not hard to figure out why some would hope to have someone popular and athletic.

“Sorry, don’t know anybody like that,” Atsumu replies at the same time Ojiro says your name.

You look at your senior, surprised.

He directs a finger upwards. “Ya know volleyball pretty well,” he points out. “Wanna apply? You already manage the twins, after all.”

“Oi, what’s that s’posed to mean –”

Arata seems to finally notice you, eyebrows raising. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t see ya there,” he exclaims. “What’s yer name?”

Reluctantly, you step up next to Osamu and introduce yourself.

“[L/n]-chan. So ya know the twins?”

“I’ve lived on the same street as them since elementary school.”

“Really! Ya must know them well, then.”

“More than well,” says Kobayashi.

She points down at your hand. Arata follows her finger, and you resist the urge to curl your pinkie when his mouth drops.

“Oh, damn, you’re soulmates with – er, uh –”

Osamu and Atsumu just stand there, watching the captain flounder. After a few seconds, you reach up and tug Osamu’s earlobe sharply.

“Osamu,” you say, both as an answer and as a scolding, ignoring the muttered ‘ow’ coming from your right.

Clapping his hands, Arata nods. “You’re soulmates with Osamu-kun! Wow, that’s amazing. And you’ve been together since elementary school? He’d think and play better with you just bein’ there.”

You smile, embarrassed.

“That doesn’t make her the right candidate, Arata,” says Kobayashi. “Even if she really wants to manage the team, she might still prioritize Osamu-kun over everybody else. The last thing I want is a manager who picks favorites.”

She says it so bluntly, so seriously. Your smile weakens as her words hit a sore spot you didn’t know you even had.

There must be a good way to disagree. The two truths of the matter are that being a good manager would mean risking being a bad soulmate, and that being a good manager is a risk you can afford. Osamu isn’t the type of person who needs to be worried about. He gets scraped up, but he doesn’t mind it, and he knows his limits. If a player got hurt right as Osamu called you for something, you know you’d check on the other player first. Even if the other player was Atsumu. (Maybe.)

Osamu simply does not need you to take care of him. You don’t know how to express this without seeming like you don’t care as much as you should.

Atsumu cuts in before you can organize your thoughts into words.

“She wouldn’t,” he says, “unless it’s me. But ’Samu and I are soulmates, so we’re already at our best when we’re on the court.”

The upperclassmen before you tilt their heads simultaneously.

“… Wait,” Arata says after a while, slowly. “You’re tellin’ me that Osamu-kun has two soulmates?”

Osamu glances at you, eyes half-lidded, and you can only meet his eyes for a few seconds before you have to look at the ground.

“Guess I’m favored,” Osamu replies.

“Wow.” Huffing out a laugh, Arata crosses his arms. “Two soulmates … huh. I wonder how that works …” Kobayashi grunts and he clears his throat. “S-Sorry. Anyway, [L/n]-chan, if you’re interested in the manager position, just fill this out and give it to Kobayashi-chan. We’re taking applications until July first or until we find someone, whichever comes first.”

He hands you a sheet of paper, and you take it tentatively.

“My phone number’s at the top in case you have any questions,” Kobayashi adds. Her voice lowers, but its monotony remains. “And if ya end up applying, know that I won’t show any favoritism just because of yer soulmate.”

You take in a breath through your nose, fingers curling into the application in your hands. “Yeah, of course.”

She nods once, then leans back in her seat. The set of her mouth relaxes just slightly, and she crosses her arms, morphing from a cutthroat manager to a tired senpai.

“See ya after school. Good luck,” she says. Her eyes bore into yours. “To all of ya.”

There’s a moment of silent surprise between you, Osamu, and Atsumu. Then all three of you bow as Ojiro and Arata chuckle.

“Thank you!”

—

The twins, predictably, become one of three first-year regulars on Inarizaki’s boys’ volleyball team. You place your manager application in the top drawer of your desk, which you pull out frequently over the next three weeks just to stare at the blank form, unsure about the whole thing.

Saturday afternoon rolls around, and you’ve taken the paper out of your binder and set it on top of your desk at home when your phone buzzes.

Osamu: you home

You: yeah

Osamu: ok

And that’s it. You stare at your screen for a few seconds, unblinking, before you shoot up from your seat and scramble to your dresser to get changed.

Five minutes and a bit of haphazard cleaning later, there’s a few firm knocks on the front door, followed by incessant banging. You stalk over to open the door before it’s knocked off its hinges.

“I could hear you,” you tell Atsumu, unimpressed, as the two enter and shuck off their shoes.

“I know.”

He deftly dodges the kick you aim at his ankle. This usually happens nowadays, unfortunately, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“’S just you here?” Osamu asks, shuffling into some slippers and walking further into the house. His gym bag hangs from his shoulder, big and bulky, and you look at it curiously.

“… Yeah?”

“Fer someone left home alone all the time, you’re duller than a rock,” Atsumu says. “Folks’re gone and ya don’t even throw a party? Geez.”

You narrow your eyes as he grins. “Maybe I just want peace and quiet after havin’ to sit in class with you all week, Atsumu. Anyways, why are you guys here?”

You receive no answer. After eyeing the kitchen, Osamu turns and heads down the hallway, prompting you to follow. You’re further confused when he enters the bathroom and sets his bag on the countertop.

As he unzips it, Atsumu squeezes past you and reaches into the bag, pulling out a –

A shower cap.

“… Is the shower at yer place broken or something?”

“No,” Osamu says, and he pulls something else out. “Ma’s home.”

You stare at the box in his hands. Then you look back up at the twins.

“She’s gonna kill you.”

—

Watching Osamu and Atsumu bleach each other’s hair is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Their dark T-shirts have speckles of orange on them, there are bits of foil littering the sink and the bathroom floor, and the acrid stench of bleach filling the bathroom is starting to creep down the hallway. You can only hope it doesn’t linger past Sunday night when you go back to the dorms.

“If you screw this up, I’m shaving yer giant head in yer sleep.”

“I’m doin’ it better than you did, ya scrub!”

You stand outside, shirt collar pulled up and over your nose, as Atsumu finishes combing through the top part of Osamu’s hair. It’s an incredible thing to witness: Osamu sitting on the shower seat, hunched over and holding a sheet of foil over his undercut while Atsumu hangs over him, wearing one of the shower caps to keep his own hair out of the way. It’s also a disaster.

You lift your phone up to snap a quick picture.

“Oi! What’re ya doin’?”

“Making a present for Ojiro.” Upon viewing the photographic evidence, you realize something. “You’re not gonna tell Auntie that you dyed yer hair at my house, right?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Osamu assures, letting Atsumu hold onto the foil while he pulls on a shower cap. He sets a timer, and the two of them hurry out of the bathroom to escape the fumes. “She won’t be thinkin’ about the details when she finds out.”

“Like she’d ever blame ya, anyway.” Atsumu scoffs. “You’re the favorite and you ain’t even her kid.”

“Well, I don’t wanna take my chances.” You recall the countless number of times the twins had received a whooping for something stupid they did, and the countless number of times you had just barely managed to slip under the radar by keeping your mouth shut. “Y’know, she might make ya dye it black again if the school doesn’t like it.”

“Please. If anything, they’ll thank us fer givin’ them an easy way to tell us apart.”

“Is that why you’re dyein’ yer hair? You’re already in different classes.”

“It ain’t fer class,” Osamu says. “It’s fer volleyball.”

Atsumu presses his back against the wall and slides down to the floor, pulling up a game on his phone. “Some of the scrubs still can’t tell us apart on court,” he sniffs. “’M tired of it.”

That, you think, makes a lot more sense.

Osamu and Atsumu have always taken full advantage of being identical twins. You’ve seen them pull just about every stunt in the book – switching the way they part their hair on random days, pretending to be the other when one of them gets in trouble, making money off classmates who bet on knowing who’s who (and lying on more than one occasion). Looking alike isn’t usually a point of contention between them.

When it does bother them, volleyball is usually involved. They don’t always wear different shirts or numbered jerseys at practice, and you’ve been to enough of them to know that this can cause issues at the beginning of the year. The coach calls out the wrong name, a teammate calls for Osamu when they mean Atsumu, things like that.

They get especially miffed when one gets praised for something the other did. Atsumu, in particular, hates that the most.

“Ya have anythin’ to eat?”

Head snapping up, you look at Osamu and nod halfway through absorbing what he’s just asked. “There’s leftover onigiri in the fridge and snacks in the cupboard,” you reply, stepping over Atsumu’s outstretched legs to lead his brother towards the kitchen.

(“Heat up an onigiri fer me,” Atsumu calls out.)

(“Get it yerself, lazy-ass,” Osamu shoots back.)

In the kitchen, you fish out the last two onigiri the twins’ mom had given you yesterday and present them to Osamu.

“Here. You and Atsumu can each have one.”

“These the ones with salted salmon?”

You nod.

Osamu thinks for a moment. His lips purse, his eyelids droop, and even though he kind of looks like a lunch lady with that shower cap on, it’s cute.

“I’ll make ochazuke and yaki onigiri,” he decides. “What do ya want?”

“I’ll just have some chips or something. I just ate lunch, so I’m not that hungry.”

He stares at you, then accepts the onigiri from your hands. “Okay.”

Putting the rice balls on the counter next to the stove, Osamu retrieves a small plate, a bowl, and a mug from the cupboard. He finds most of everything else pretty quickly – the cast iron skillet under the oven, the spatula in the drawer right next to the fridge, and the soy sauce and oil in the lower corner cabinet. The only thing he asks for you to locate is the green tea, which you get from the depths of the second shelf in the pantry.

While he works, you grab a bag of your favorite chips and pop it open, leaning against the unused counter on the other side of the stove to watch.

You like it whenever Osamu cooks. The click of the stovetop turning on, the curve of oil being poured into the skillet, and you’re rocking gently in a small boat, curled up in an overstuffed chair on a rainy day.

(It’s an extension of how he feels, you’ve learned – for as much as Miya Osamu loves volleyball, he loves food just a teeny bit more.)

When the oil is hot enough, he unwraps one of the onigiri and places it in.

You turn the opening of your chip bag towards him as he wipes his hands on a towel. “Here,” you offer once he notices.

“Thanks.”

Atsumu’s onigiri sizzles in the skillet while the water for Osamu’s tea continues to heat up. Osamu mirrors your posture on his side of the stove, messily crunching down on several chips, and the two of you wait.

“Didja apply for the manager position yet?”

You swallow too early, rough shards of chips cutting down your throat. Fighting the urge to cough, you shake your head and reach for the water you’d left on the table this morning. “No. Still thinkin’ about it.” He hums. “You guys haven’t found one yet?”

“Kobayashi-senpai’s real picky.” He flips the onigiri over with one sharp push of the spatula, brushing soy sauce over the freshly grilled side. The water boiler beeps right after, and he seamlessly transitions over to pour the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Most of the applicants we saw were annoyin’, anyway.”

“Oh.”

You recall the last practice you’d attended, watching from the balcony with your homework as the team ran laps around the court. The applicant on trial that day had watched them go by a few times, still and proper, before suddenly turning to Kobayashi and excusing themselves from the gym. They never came back.

On the walk back to the dorms that evening, Atsumu explained that the student had a counter for how many times their soulmate would pass by them.

(“Waste of time n’ space,” he’d complained. “Who’d wanna be with someone that desperate?”)

“Ya wouldn’t be half bad at it.”

“… Yeah …”

“If ya don’t wanna apply, just say so.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t know if I’ll wanna do it for the next three years.”

“Whaddaya want to do, then?”

“I dunno.” With a sigh, you set your bag of chips down. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to apply.”

Osamu shrugs. “If ya are,” he says, turning off the stove top, “don’t do it just ’cause of me.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, sharp and knowing as he flips the yaki onigiri onto the plate he’d pulled out earlier.

After calling Atsumu, who had migrated to the living room couch while he had been waiting, the twins scarf down their afternoon snack in no time at all and raid your cupboard for the complimentary snacks your parents usually bring back from their trips.

Halfway into his fourth wafer, Atsumu’s timer goes off.

“Oh, shit.” Shoving the rest of the wafer into his mouth and silencing the alarm, Atsumu gets up and eagerly makes a beeline to the bathroom.

“… Do ya think it worked?” you mutter as you and Osamu stand up more slowly.

“I dunno.”

A loud swear explodes from the bathroom.

You look at each other sharply. Wiping the crumbs from your lips, the two of you run over to investigate.

As you get closer, you hear the sink running, then Atsumu muttering underneath his breath.

When you peek into the bathroom, your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Osamu says, leaning past you to get a better look. “’Tsumu, ya look like a carrot.”

“Shaddup, ’Samu,” Atsumu moans, rinsing his hair angrily. “I know. Fuck.”

Hair bleach on dark hair, as you find out, works similarly to hair bleach on dark fabric. Contrary to the sandy blond the older twin had desired, the result he had gotten is instead a bright, burnt yellow-orange matching the stains on his T-shirt. Not carrot, necessarily, but definitely not blond.

“Ugh.” Nose and forehead wrinkling, Atsumu leans toward the mirror, pinching a section of hair between his fingers. “It … it ain’t that bad, right?” His pitch rises with the slightest hint of denial. “I’m pullin’ it off.”

“It’s that bad,” Osamu says.

“’Samu!”

“Maybe you can bleach it again?” you suggest.

“And then his hair falls out? Bad idea.”

“Dye it, then, like you are.”

“We don’t have money left to buy a different color.” With a sigh, Osamu puts his hands on his hips. “Damn. Sorry, ’Tsumu.”

Atsumu groans and thunks his forehead against the mirror, dripping water all the way down its surface onto the counter. His frustration is so palpable that you can feel it prickling your skin.

If he hadn’t been so excited before, you’d probably poke fun. You should poke fun, but the disappointed twist of his lips and the droopiness of his sopping wet hair just makes you feel bad. He looks like a wet puppy.

Dammit.

You take your phone out.

Osamu tracks the movement. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Lookin’ something up.” You press on the first link you see, skim the webpage quickly, and put your phone back into your pocket. “I’m headin’ out fer a bit. Stay here.”

“… ’Kay.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu grumbles.

After grabbing your wallet and checking its contents, you head outside to drag your bike out from underneath the vacant carport. And as you hop onto the seat, pedaling down towards the nearest drugstore, you tell yourself that Atsumu better thank you on his hands and knees once you get back.

—

“Blue shampoo?” Atsumu’s tone is suspicious as he slathers the back of Osamu’s hair in grey dye.

“It’s supposed to cancel out the orange.” Turning the bottle to face you, you read the description beneath the brand name. “‘Eliminates brassy, orange undertones.’ See?”

“It ain’t gonna fuck up my hair even more?”

“’Course not,” you retort, all hopes of veneration quickly fading away. “I ain’t an asshole, Atsumu.”

His eyebrow twitches, hands slowing. You take the opportunity to place the bottle sideways in the crook of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head to hold it in place.

“Oi –”

“Go try it. I’ll finish Osamu’s hair.”

“Yer so bossy,” Atsumu grumbles, but he lets you nudge him out the way, peeling his gloves off and grabbing the shampoo.

You snap some gloves on in turn, keeping one eye on Osamu’s hair and the other on Atsumu as he ducks his head beneath the sink faucet. They’d pretty much finished up applying the dye for Osamu, at least from what you can tell, so you start combing through the locks with your fingers to make sure everything is covered.

Miya hair is very thick. Soft, too. You hope all this bleaching and dyeing won’t ruin it too much.

“Hm,” Osamu hums abruptly.

You stop. “What?”

“Nothin’.” You furrow your brow but resume, only to just barely hear him mumble, “… Feels nice.”

Oh.

A smile crawls onto your lips without warning, the space behind your ribcage suddenly cozy and soft.

“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” Atsumu announces. You look up just in time to see him squeeze a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Euch! It’s so blue!”

“Why do ya sound so surprised?!”

“Shaddup, I just wasn’t expectin’ it to be so dark! … Smells okay, though …”

While the shampoo does its work on Atsumu’s hair, you take a little extra time combing Osamu’s. He remains quiet and still, thumbs tapping idly on the dark screen on his phone. You wait for him to make more snide remarks at Atsumu’s expense or complain about the smell of the dye, but he doesn’t.

You eventually finish up while the water still runs blue and sudsy into the bowl of the sink. Osamu mutters a thank you and ambles off after eyeing his brother for a few seconds. You linger for a while longer.

(God, you hope it works. If not for Atsumu’s sake, then for your pride and your wallet.)

After what seems like forever, he rinses out the last of the shampoo, wrings his hair out a bit, and straightens up to look in the mirror.

You examine his reflection as well. It’s less orange, yes, but still not as light as he had wanted, more gold than sand. Not necessarily good, but certainly less bad.

Atsumu fixates on the more muted shade of his hair for a minute or two. His lips press downwards at the corners, and then they part to say your name.

You blink.

“What?”

“Why’d ya buy the shampoo?”

He sounds almost accusatory, but not quite; there’s an undertone that you very, very rarely hear in his voice. He meets your eyes in the mirror, hair a dripping, tangled mess.

“… ’Cause I felt bad fer ya,” you admit unwillingly. Atsumu makes a face, and you sharpen your tongue, because that is what feels comfortable with him. Normal. “And I didn’t want to hear ya mopin’ and complainin’ about it all week.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he persists. “I coulda pulled it off.”

You scoff. “Just ’cause you’re taller than most of the school doesn’t mean they wouldn’t’a noticed. And anyways, it’s better now, ain’t it?”

“I didn’t ask ya to buy it.”

“Ya didn’t even know what it was until I told you.”

“An’ if I did, I still wouldn’t’ve asked!”

“Yeah, ’cause yer prideful ass would rather die than ask fer help!” you snap, jabbing his bicep with your finger. “God! I knew ya wouldn’t even say thank you!”

“Well, if ya knew I was gonna be a dick about it, why’d ya waste yer money?!”

“I felt bad fer ya!” you screech. “My mistake!”

“Yeah, yer mistake!” Atsumu shouts back.

Chest heaving for breath, you glare at him. He glares in return. Temper pinks his face and the tips of his ears, flares his nostrils and curls his lip in that fierce and familiar way. In the back of your mind, you know you are doing the same.

Asshole.

You’re angry, yes. And offended, and exasperated, and and and –

And hurt.

“It’s so hard,” you say, your voice deciding to crack at the worst time possible, “to be nice to you sometimes, Atsumu.”

When the words leave your throat, his face grows blank in that way you’ve always hated, his mouth pressing into a fine line.

“So?” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

Casting one last glance at the bottle of shampoo next to the sink, you clench your fists and turn to leave. What a waste of money. This is the last time you’re ever going to feel bad for him.

A hand wraps around your elbow upon your first step outside the bathroom.

“… Are ya cryin’?”

“No,” you bite, wishing he hadn’t asked because now you do feel like crying, just a little bit.

Atsumu pauses for an excruciating moment. You can practically feel his distaste for whatever words he’s about to say.

“I’ll pay ya back,” he mutters. “Fer the shampoo.”

“No.”

“Whaddaya mean, no?”

“I don’t want yer money.”

“Well, what do ya want, ’cause I ain’t owin’ ya anything.”

“I want a thank you.”

“… Can’t I just –”

“No.”

Atsumu throws his hands up. “Fine!” he says. “Thanks fer buyin’ somethin’ I didn’t ask fer! There, ya happy now?”

“I want ya to mean it,” you say quietly.

“I did mean it.”

You cross your arms.

He groans. Glancing around as if checking for hidden cameras, Atsumu slowly pushes his bangs away from his face and wipes his nose, sniffing.

“… Fine,” he eventually grumbles at the floor tiles. Cheeks puffed, he looks up at you from the corner of his eye and scratches the back of his head. “The shampoo fixed it a little bit,” the words struggle their way out of his mouth, “so … thanks … fer gettin’ it fer me. Ya didn’t have to.”

He looks like he’s just eaten soap, his ears still red, and that’s how you know he’s being sincere. Your shoulders relax a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Atsumu’s expression, almost doleful for just that moment, blooms into something more sarcastic once you accept his gratitude. He gestures at the doorway behind you. “Can I go now?”

“Dry the mirror and the counter first.”

“But I said thank you.”

You throw a towel at his face and walk away, more satisfied than not.

—

“How’s Osamu-kun doing?”

You prop your phone up against the wall behind your desk, tilting your pen between your fingers. “He’s fine, Ma.”

“Did ya tell him how good his curry is? He makes it better than me.”

“Yeah, he says he’s glad you guys like it.”

After resolving the blue shampoo issue with Atsumu on Saturday, you’d gone back to the kitchen and found Osamu chopping vegetables and tofu next to the sink. At first, you figured he was hungry again, but upon your questioning, he’d only denied it.

(“’S fer you.”

“… Fer me? No, you don’t have to –”

“Yeah, I know. Ya don’t like the curry at the cafeteria, so bring mine back to the dorm and save it in the fridge fer later. If ya don’t want it, leave it fer yer folks to eat when they get back.”)

He didn’t leave much room for debate. And since he was using your family’s food to make it anyway, you accepted, a bit perplexed but happy nonetheless. You hadn’t expected him to remember your complaint about the cafeteria’s bland curry.

The amount he made was enough to fill two Tupperware containers, one of which you left for your parents when they returned two days later. Needless to say, they were delighted.

“What a thoughtful boy. He’s so good to you, honey.”

You smile, walking back to your desk. “Yeah.”

(“Ya like dark chocolate in it, right?”)

Your mom sighs. It’s a familiar sigh, and you click your pen, knowing what she is about to say before she even takes a breath.

“I just don’t know why he hasn’t asked ya out yet.”

You can hear your dad speak up between chews in the background. “It ain’t like how it was back when we were young, dear. Soulmates these days don’t like makin’ things so formal and official.”

“Oh, I know, but wouldn’t it be sweet? I was so happy when we went on our first official date.”

“The one at the konbini ’cause I couldn’t afford anythin’ nicer?”

“Yes. I loved it.”

“I know. You were smilin’ the whole time.”

“Glad you’re still in love,” you say dryly when they giggle over the phone, your nose wrinkling when your dad comes into view to give your mom a loud smooch. During these moments, you wish you’d called instead. “I’m still here.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Honey, you should bring Osamu-kun somethin’ fer his next game! A snack fer afterwards. He’ll like that.”

“Okay.” You’ve done that before. The first time you gave him an orange in your first year of junior high, he and Atsumu squabbled over dividing it for five minutes. Now you get double portions whenever you have the compulsion to bring something after games, just to keep the peace.

“Speaking of games …”

Here we go.

“… Have ya applied to be the manager for the volleyball team yet?”

“Um.” Glancing at the wall to your right, you click your pen some more, taking your time to answer. “I filled the form out …”

“[Y/n]! If ya dawdle, someone else’ll snatch it up. When’s it due?”

“July first or until they find someone.”

“Turn it in tomorrow!”

“Okay, okay.”

Your mom sighs again, and she places a bowl down onto the table. “… Otherwise, are ya okay? I’m sorry we missed ya at home.”

“It’s fine. I hung out with Kokomi and the twins. How was yer anniversary?”

“We’ll make sure we’re home next time you’re on weekend leave. And it was lovely! Oh, honey, ya should’ve seen the fish yer pa caught …”

You talk with your parents until they finish their dinner, hanging up once they’ve started cleaning up. As soon as the video cuts out, you release a breath and turn your phone face-down.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous about applying for the manager position. It’s the natural thing to do, because it’s natural to want to be involved with something Osamu is interested in, his own opinion on the matter notwithstanding. You think you might like being a manager. It’s not like you want to do something else more.

Getting rejected by Kobayashi would be horrible, though.

Maybe you’ll wait a little longer to turn your application in. Polish it up some more, and such.

—

After volleyball practice ends, and after everyone who had lingered behind to practice some more is ready to call it a night, Atsumu tells you and Osamu that he’s staying a little longer to practice his jump float serves.

“Are ya sure? Cafeteria’s servin’ all-you-can-eat pasta for dinner.”

“I’ll be done before it closes.”

Osamu doesn’t look convinced. To be fair, neither are you; Atsumu often loses track of time when he stays behind, resulting in an extra hungry, extra irritable Atsumu.

“Atsumu,” you say.

He huffs at you. “Seriously, I will!” he insists, before turning to walk back to the end line. You, Osamu, Ginjima, Akagi, and Ojiro all look on helplessly as he throws a volleyball into the air and gives himself a running start.

“Don’t worry,” Kobayashi says, grabbing your attention just as he jumps. She holds up the key to the gymnasium. “I’ll kick him out before he misses dinner.”

Ojiro, ever the responsible one, lets out a noise of protest. “Senpai, I can lock up. You should go.”

“No, it’s fine.” Though her tone is impassive, she makes it clear that her mind is set as she waves him off. “I’m goin’ out to eat with my boyfriend later, anyway.”

You blink.

Though Ojiro is visibly reluctant, he acquiesces. “… Okay. Thank you, Kobayashi-senpai.”

“Mmhm,” Kobayashi hums, and her gaze falls upon you. “Make sure they get to the cafeteria in one piece, [L/n]-chan.”

“I will, senpai.”

You wait outside while the guys change out of their gym clothes and gather their things. Once they exit the building, you join them, listening idly to their chatter about today’s practice as the five of you trek towards the cafeteria.

“Hey, Ojiro-senpai, Akagi-senpai,” Ginjima speaks up during a lull in the conversation. “What Kobayashi-senpai said earlier …”

Attention piqued, you look at your upperclassmen for their reactions to Ginjima’s question. Next to you, Osamu does little to hide his curiosity as well.

Ojiro and Akagi, in turn, share a glance, and Ojiro raises an eyebrow at Ginjima.

“Yeah?” Ojiro replies.

“Well, y’know …” Ginjima presses expectantly, “when she said that she has a boyfriend, did she mean …?”

“That’s somethin’ you can ask Kobayashi-senpai about, ain’t it?”

You imagine doing just that and cringe.

Ginjima’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “Well –!” he replies, a bit too loudly. “I would, but I don’t want her to think I’m bein’ judgmental or somethin’. Plus, I’m just a first-year …”

“Aw, I think it’s fine if they know, Aran. It ain’t like she’s hidin’ it or anythin’,” Akagi says. Ojiro looks up for a moment in thought, then shrugs tentatively, and Akagi smiles at you and the two boys. “Kobayashi-senpai’s not datin’ her soulmate. They’re pretty serious, too.”

Ojiro rests his hands behind his head. “He’s a nice guy. Comes to games sometimes.”

“Oh, I see …”

You nod slowly, absorbing this new piece of information. Kobayashi has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that she goes on dates with, one she really likes. You wonder how long they’ve been together.

You wonder if Kobayashi’s met her soulmate yet.

“E-Excuse me! Hello!”

The quick patter of footsteps interrupts your train of thought. Glancing behind you, you stop short when you see one of your classmates running up to your group, waving one hand and holding a camera in the other. The golden orange of the sky burnishes her red hair.

“Naruko-san,” you and Ginjima greet at the same time. Ginjima laughs.

“Sorry to bother ya!” Naruko bows and quickly straightens, holding her camera up and smiling nervously. “I-I was just takin’ some pictures for photography club, and I was wonderin’ if you guys would mind me takin’ a picture?”

“How long’s it gonna take?” Osamu asks.

“Not too long. Five minutes? U-Unless y’all are in a hurry to get somewhere …”

“Not too much of a hurry. Just wanna make it to dinner.” Ojiro smiles, patting Osamu and Akagi’s backs. “Where do ya want us?”

Naruko brightens, her cheeks going red. “J-Just keep walkin’! The lighting’s perfect right now, and I wanna take a picture of yer backs with yer volleyball jackets on.” She glances at you, and her expression grows more nervous. “Er …”

You lock eyes with her for a few seconds before catching on. Nodding, you take a step towards Naruko to join her.

Osamu’s hand grasps your shoulder.

His hold is loose, but you bite back the urge to slump over at the sudden warmth of it, pausing instead to look back at him.

“Where’re ya goin’?”

You answer tentatively. “I don’t have a team jacket.”

“That’s fine. You’re walkin’ with us too.”

“Yeah, but …” You wet your lips. “Like, visually, it’ll look weird if one person doesn’t have one on …”

The corner of Osamu’s mouth twitches, and he frowns. You watch as his gaze moves past your shoulder. A sudden, brief twinge of irritation, not belonging to you, zings through your ribcage.

“Why’s that matter?”

“Yeah. C’mon, it’ll be fine,” Ojiro says.

“It’s okay!” Naruko suddenly blurts, and you jolt slightly, looking back at her. She bounces on her feet, voice even higher pitched. “I can do a more candid shot, now that I think about it! A-Actually, Miya-san, could ya give [L/n]-san yer jacket? And Ginjima-san, you can keep yers around yer waist …”

Her sudden change in idea perplexes you a bit. But Osamu seems to be satisfied, and he shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders.

After a bit of hesitation, you slide your arms through the sleeves.

(It’s just as warm.)

“Ooh, [L/n]-chan’s wearin’ Osamu’s jacket,” Ginjima teases behind his hand, and your face heats up.

“Okay.” Behind you, Naruko lets out a wistful-sounding sigh. “I’m ready. Y’all can start walkin’ now, just like ya were before.”

With only a bit of self-consciousness, the five of you follow her instructions. There are only a few clicks of the camera before Naruko calls out her thanks and goes off without another word, leaving you and the boys to speculate whether you’ll ever see the results.

“How cute,” Akagi comments. “She looked like she was gonna throw up, though.”

“I hope those were conflicting statements.”

“Okay, Aran, I wasn’t implying …”

While the two upperclassmen start to banter, you move to take Osamu’s jacket off, only for him to stop you.

“’S fine,” he says. “You can wear it if ya want.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And so you do.

—

The boys’ first practice game in July is brutal.

Many of your peers have come to watch. It’s a favorite after-school pastime of Inarizaki’s student populace, you’ve quickly discovered, to hop from one athletic club to the other simply to spectate and speculate. People pack the balcony and peek around the doorway, catching the scent of blood and sweat.

Between the crowd’s cheering and jeering, the squeak of sneakers on the gym floor, and the sound of palms ramming into volleyballs, the atmosphere is sharp, almost electric – something that you feel tingling on your skin as you stand on the sidelines, Kobayashi right by your side.

Atsumu delivers another devastating service ace. It ricochets off the corner of the other side of the court with a thunderous boom.

“Did you catch that, [L/n]-chan?” Kobayashi asks, arms crossed. “That was one of his better ones.”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t.”

“Hm.”

You watch the slow, satisfied stretch of Atsumu’s smile, and wait patiently. “It’s okay. He ain’t done yet.”

Indeed, Atsumu is just getting started. You spare an amused glance at Osamu in front of the net, his hands locked protectively behind his head, before turning back to Atsumu as the volleyball is thrown back to him.

Raising your camera, you adjust the focus, finger ready on the shutter button.

Toss. Run. Jump.

Click.

On your other side, a girl pumps her fists and cheers.

“Wow! Another one!” she gushes.

You smile behind your lens. “Ya always sound so impressed, Tsubaki-chan.”

“I’m just excited! We’re crushin’ them in the last set!”

“’Course we are,” says Kobayashi. “Our offense is that much better. I’m a little disappointed.”

As your upperclassman patiently points out each player’s strengths and weaknesses, you keep an eye on the team and crouch low. You’ve got plenty of photos now that the game’s nearing its end – lots of sets, a few spikes and digs, some flashy jump serves. Hopefully, some of them have turned out halfway decent. Even though you’d widened the aperture to make up for the gym’s crappy lighting and adjusted the shutter speed for blurring, you still worry about your timing.

By the time Inarizaki scores the winning point, you’ve moved to the opposite end of the court and have to race back to capture their reactions.

One thing you like about the volleyball team is how expressive they are. Joy, passion, pride – off the high of a victory, they bare everything, whether it’s through their expressions or the way they move or both.

Tsubaki says your name excitedly as soon as the teams have finished thanking each other, tugging on your arm. “Can I see the action shots, [Y/n]-chan?” she requests.

“Ah, sure.”

You turn the camera towards her, and she leans in as you scroll through the photos, her grin widening.

“Wow! Yer timin’s amazin’. They look so cool!”

The praise brings summer to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you reply genuinely. After a moment of hesitation, you lift the camera again. “Smile, Manager-san?”

Tsubaki doesn’t hesitate to broaden her already present grin, throwing up a peace sign for good measure. Kobayashi looks your way as well, and you take one shot, knowing it will be kept.

“Cute!” Tsubaki exclaims.

Two shadows loom over your shoulders as the girl bestows you with another compliment. When you turn your head to the right, your nose nearly brushes Osamu’s cheek.

“Ya got any good shots of us, [Y/n]?” Atsumu asks expectantly.

“Yes, actually, I did,” you reply, going back through the camera roll with a particular image in mind. You’re only vaguely aware of the warmth they exude as they budge into your personal space, the smell of sweat lingering on their skin. “Here.”

You’re particularly proud of this one. It had been a split second of pure luck, standing on the sidelines when a window of opportunity opened for a fast-tempo set. You had felt it – you knew Atsumu would set to Osamu, and as Osamu jumped, arm reared back as Atsumu sent the ball to him, you had captured it.

Somehow, you always get the timing right with them.

“Cool,” the twins approve proudly.

“Email that one to us, will ya?” Atsumu says. “I ain’t lettin’ you photography nerds hoard it away.”

“She’s sendin’ all these to Arata-senpai, ya dolt.”

“Hey, I wanna see!” Gintama breaks into your little group, trying to sneak a peek in. “Did ya get one of my spikes?”

“Yeah, how about my jump serve?”

“That super cool block me and Ren did in the second set!”

“Didja get one of Coach?”

One by one, the team gathers around you, eager for a glimpse of their successes. The crowding is uncomfortable, but you try your best to show them what you can anyway, feeling a rare sense of pride about your own accomplishments.

You’re happy with your choice.

Tsubaki will be a great manager. Even when you first met her, you knew she had everything she'd need for the job – a passion for the sport, a desire to help others succeed, and an endless amount of perseverance. Inarizaki couldn’t ask for a better person to replace Kobayashi next year. She’ll do well in what she’s decided to do.

And so will you.

—

prev

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter 10 of Lonely Remnants, “Wildfires have been eating you inside my head, Trying to smoke you out or burn you alive in it”, is here! Strap in, folks. I can’t tell you how excited I am to share this one with you all.

PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS ATTACHED TO THIS CHAPTER AND PROCEED WITH CAUTION. THIS CHAPTER IS PARTICULARLY ROUGH. I KNOW I SAW THAT A LOT, BUT IT IS VERY TRUE HERE.

Extras! :)

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title are from “Please Just Stay Dead” by Nichole Dollanganger! They are meant to reflect how Lydia’s image of her bold, strong brother is being irreparably altered, maybe even ruined.

- “Like a doomed man trudging towards the gallows, sure but unsteady. Like a dead girl walking.” - Heheh, foreshadowing.

- “The trail led into the road. It ended on the other side, next to the memorial. Not before it was… smeared on the road. Splattered all about, like the cause of it had been… impacted. Her fears were confirmed when she found one of those strange paw / feet among the large, dark smudge of blood and goop in the road.” - Yep, they got hit by a car! Karma, I guess.

- “It was… feasting on some festering roadkill with a terribly feral and manic fervor.” - That was Lawrence’s last ditch effort to try and regain control and heal their body.

- “The side of his face the ear had fallen off of seemed to be following suit. It was starting to turn to the goop and slough off, part of the flesh hanging limply off the cheek and exposing his blackened, cracked jawbone.” - While the whole rejection idea is based on the ending of “Bride of Re-Animator”, this particularly horrific mental image is based on an effect from “Smile 2” that really stuck with me!

- “His dad and twin loved him, but it… it weren’t enough to counter the hatred of his mother.” - Lawrence’s accent fades away as the Shoggoth talks more and gains more control as he gets weaker.

- “Lousy bum’s been drinkin’ since he were ten years old.” - Not by choice! But the Shoggoth is being really judgy regardless.

- “Joined a band, saw the country, got his wrist broken by a boyfriend.” - Band mention! There’s a whole bunch of fun lore surrounding them that lives in my head. Also, the rotten boyfriend who broke his wrist was Cyrus! Can’t escape that fella.

- “It suddenly reached up, placing a hand over the left side of it’s face, covering up the exposed bone and one of it’s eyes.” - This was it trying to stop it’s face from falling apart more. It didn’t work.

- “Mrs. D helped him fix himself. Clean up all the broken pieces ‘n make somethin’ outta them.” - A reference to “Dead Mom”!

- “Of all of the moments in his long drive, of all of the cars he passed, he had to hit the one containing two of the people he loved most.” - This bit was inspired by a similar moment in the movie “Signs”.

- “She remained still as the grave.” - heheh, more foreshadowing.

- “No, Scarecrow. You died too.” - Woof. There’s been hints throughout. Hell, even in the start of the first chapter! - “She was the lucky one. By some miracle, she made it out with only some minor head trauma and the loss of a substantial amount of her hearing.” - I even put “Living Dead Girl” on the Lonely Remnants playlist for this purpose, lol.

- “ “I haven’t been very truthful at all.” It’s fingers brushed over the scales dotting it’s nose.” - Every time it lied, it gained a snake scale, since snakes represent deceit.

- “We are… human suffering, given form. Anguish and agony, writhing deep below the earth. I am of Lawrence’s. Of all the pain and hurt he felt.” - Yeah sorry it was a metaphor for trauma and self repression this whole time. Mostly. Also, this is what Otho meant when he said “… always were the most… potent out of all of us, little brother.”

- “No more watchin’, no more peepin’, and…” - This is a reference to “Bigtop Burger”. I couldn’t help myself. Cesare was my main inspiration for the Shoggoth.

- “… I could always feel him, faintly, in the back of my mind. Breathing in the dark.” - GOTCHA WITH ANOTHER “Asteroid City” REFERENCE!

- “I… I am just a beast of the stony soil.” - This is inspired by a famous line from “Pet Sematary”, which inspired Lonely Remnants! It’s the first horror story I read at eight years old, lol.

Tag list: @raineisinkless @c0zmo-writes @musical-fiend @katslitterbox

(Want to be tagged in future updates for CorpseJuice / LoopJuice? Let me know!)

[hanaonesflower]

5.7k words — this is a hefty one boys :33 never thought i would be writing such an elaborate fic abt Toji since I’ve never felt this strongly about him as a character but oh MAN ever since that leak of his animation… I’ve had a change of heart 🤡🤡

｡+ﾟ *｡

Your neighbor had always been branded as the sex nuisance and rudest man on the block. Ever since he moved in, no one in the neighborhood could get a moment of peace, especially those live within a 4-houses radius from him. When his mail was mistakenly sent to your home, you learned of his honorifics, Mr. Toji Fushiguro. Toji had always been seen with 2 children, unbeknownst to you, they were his biological kids. His daughter, who seemed a few years older than his son. But you never see another parental figure around, just him and 2 kids. You sometimes notice a maroon minivan coming by and the 2 children would eagerly bolt toward it and slamming the door shut, unbothered to say goodbye to their father standing outside, waving them away. You tried your best to stay away, but it didn’t help that his master bedroom’s window was directly across from your own, not being able to see absolutely everything, mission impossible.

It would make sense that he was a single parent, or the custody parent. Because he often came home with different women when the children were away, who you could catch glimpses of them fucking on his fancy, throne-like bed. You saw the way his arms forced their way on top of hers, and how his hips seemed to always drive insanely inside of her. The first few times you’d pretend to not see anything, closing the blinds almost immediately after seeing lewdness spilling out of his window, and cranking the music up to drown out the disturbing moments. But as of lately, you haven’t been able to close your blinds, you turned down the music when you started to see lewdness spilling out of his window. You shut off the lights, so that he couldn’t see the fact that you were spying on your neighbor fucking another person on his bed. The space between your home and his was no more than 13 feet, it was close, too close for comfort. But in moments like these, you couldn’t be happier.

You found yourself sensitive watching him doing the things that he did, the way he sounded when he thrust into the woman, the way he grunted and moaned when he murmured something like “oh fuck I came”. The red mood lighting in his room illuminated his figure like a dark entity but something about it was so alluring. You stayed low on your bed, making sure no part of your body rose above the window sill, propping your head slightly with a new pillows at the foot of the bed, giving you the best view of the scene. Your fingers absentmindedly crawled towards your heat. Was it embarrassment?

Maybe.

Was it fear of moral scrutiny that made you stop when you were on the verge of release? Definitely.

Toji didn’t notice much about your presence as his neighbor, much less bother to speak to you. But you watched him like a hawk, peering out any window to scan his whereabouts, when his car left and when he returned, who he was with and where he might have gone to. You quickly realized it was stalking but it didn’t hurt if you didn’t deliberately cause him any harm or disturbance. But oh, you were dying to speak with him.

You didn’t want to force it, looking desperate was not fitting and you tried to avoid it at all costs but man, the way your thighs clench together when you saw the way his hips thrust so beautiful in the other women, the way they moaned out loud, the way you thought that could be you, too. You could be under him, chained to the bed, his large calloused hands roughing you up and his cock bully freely into your dripping cunt. You wanted it, so bad. So you spent your nights touching yourself to the afterthought of his sexcapades, replaying each rhythmic thrust of his hips and the praises he murmured, it felt like they were yours to hear. You were content with this, with the orgasmic release every single night without the full satisfaction of being at his mercy.

Then the mail arrived at your home, and it was under Toji’s name. It was a package more like, so you thought to return it. On your way out the door, you came to realize the house was currently vacant and he wasn’t home. You debated internally, to wait for his return before going over, just to have a moment with him, so you waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until 3 days later when he finally pulled up to his driveway, looking handsomely haggard with a duffel bag that he swung out from the trunk. You bolted towards the door, package in hand and ran over to his porch like your life depended on it. Your hands clumsily pawed at the lock, unable to twist the simple knob and broke free from the confines of your shitty latch, haphazardly swing the door shut behind you.

He had already shut the door behind him but regardless you knocked. One. Two. Three. Three standard knocks that everyone does. You waited a while, you didn’t figure why you wanted him to swing the door open right away and scoop you up in his arms and fuck you against the wall. Such lewd thoughts in the middle of the day. But eventually the lock unlatched, and your heart skipped a thousand beats along with it. Toji appeared and your lewd thoughts have increased, they became raunchier, rougher. You did everything to hide the facial expressions.

“T-this is for you,” you said, pushing the package in front of you, towards him, with your forearms and hands wrapped around the box, “the delivery person must have left it at mine by mistake,” you felt like the sun was beaming down your neck and each bead of sweat fell like a full dumbbell onto the wooden deck, “I didn’t see that you were home so I kept it just in case people might steal your packages.” You heaved as if you came up for air from the bottom of the ocean.

He didn’t say anything at first, but sighed and said, “those fools get my packages to the wrong address all the time,” he rolled his eyes, expressing extreme annoyance. Toji reached his arms like and you flinched at them, they were huge, but he didn’t seem to notice. “But I’m glad it ended up at the house of such a pretty girl,” he smirked, “usually it’s the sweet old grans living down the street. One time the package was so heavy she wheeled it on a dolly, so adorable, I decided to give her money for the inconvenience.” How sweet. You thought.

“That’s very sweet of you,” obviously flustered from his initial remarks, you turned your head away, shying your chin away from his gaze, yours stay cemented to the blue wood panels beneath.

“Indeed it is, isn’t it?” You nodded, remained in this position. “Cute, thank you for this.” He sighed, the sigh you could only achieved by expiring from your diaphragm.

“Y-you’re so welcome!” You said, gleefully crack a smile without maintaing eye contact. You fiddled your thumbs for what seemed like forever, you needed to say goodbye, but you didn’t want to. Not when this was the closest you’ve gotten to him in 6 months. If those old grannies down the street got to him first, you were surely way behind on that line.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Huh. Pretending as if you misheard him, you slowly rotated your head back to him, locking eyes, and morphed into a genuinely confused shock. “What?” You muttered. “Why, don’t you come inside, with me?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your privacy,” every nerve in your body was blazing, energized with the flame of excitement and immenent arousal. You wanted to come inside and whore out for him, you wanted to be pinned down by his huge arms and fucked until you couldn’t speak. But modesty still can first. “Aren’t you sweet, but no. I could use some company right now, my kids are gone until next week.” You had no choice when his face was only a few inches from yours, you can smell his breath, minty. Okay, you said.

You followed behind him, shutting the door, making sure to twist it lock. He led you to the kitchen, where he set down the package on one the leather bounded chairs around his dining table. Toji grumbled noncommitally before asking if you’d like some champagne. Rule number one was to never consume any intoxicating substances at a stranger’s home. But damn, all the sexual fantasies you’ve entertained yourself with were plaguing your mind. Acting against survival instinct, yes, you said.

He poured wine into the most beautiful glass flutes you’ve ever seen. Each twirl of the liquid fell beautifully like a waterfall back down to its vortex, the champagne was fragrant, you weren’t a wine expert but couldn’t help to spot a hint of pear.

“Cheers,” he said. Your glasses clinked but not a word from you, he was sitting beside you with a one arm stationed on the back of your chair, as if slowly claiming territory with you.

It was until then that you scanned his home, it was quaint. The house was tidy for a man but littered with clutter as two kids also lived here. There was a sliding door covered behind beige curtains that you assumed led to the backyard. This house had so much warmth so it, the yellow hues settling throughout the space, warming you up from the inside.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” It’s dinner time already? Unaware that the yellow hues were resulted from the setting sun, the orange started to bleed through, blending itself with the yellow shades, the multitude of colors dancing on the walls, on the ceiling, on your hands and on his hair. This guy is not rude at all. You thought to yourself.

“I really shouldn’t,” you paused, wanting to say his name but unsure of which to use. “Toji, you can call me Toji.” As if he read your mind, “and yes, yes you should,” his voice low like a rumble and his breath fanned the side of your neck, he equated proximity with persuasion, and to his delight, it worked. Although stuttering, you coughed up a yes, sir and he seemed quite pleased with this development.

“I’ll be making it, you don’t have to lift a finger, why won’t you just keep me company, sweetheart?” Toji got up from his seat before pulling your arm towards the kitchen island, where he had the ingredients set up for the meal. Okonomiyaki, he said.

You fondled the ingredients in your hand, a bag of all purpose flour that was already used with the top folded down four times, large white onions, dill and cilantro with the eel sauce and Japanese mayonnaise sitting at room temperature.

Two hands grabbing you by the waist, pinching pressure and he lifted you up to the counter in one, effortless scoop. Your butt flat on the marble countertop, it was cold, so you winced – hard. Sorry, he said. He stayed out between your legs momentarily, hands firm on your wide thighs, he loved big thighs. Toji debated whether or not he should take you right there, but his stomach growled, breaking the silence. You pinched your lips together, sealing a laugh that was this close to breaking free.

Guess I should get dinner started now, he shied away. His hands left your thighs, where he was wanted and where he wanted to be. You watched as he chopped, sliced, diced, crushed and then some before the smell of that pungent eel sauce filled the air and your stomach started to growl, too. Toji said he liked to eat standing up, saying that because of his two kids, actually being about to sit down for dinner was a luxury. Toji was young, in his mid 30s at best, but fatherhood aged him in ways that was much more accelerated. He had premature crows feet, smile lines and the crinkle between his eyebrows.

The meal was mostly eaten in silence, with a few stolen glances here and there. It was unlike you to willingly enter a stranger’s home, but Toji was hot so you couldn’t be blamed. If you died here, it would have been a satisfied death.

After the dishes were washed and racked, Toji dried his hands on a piece of gray microfiber towels hung on the handle of the oven. He returned to his favorite place – your thighs –, it felt like time stopped. This time, nothing else was going to come in between the two of you. Tension was high, the air felt so heavy it could crush you. His breath and yours synced, your chests rose and fell like a dance, never missing a beat, always uniformed.

Mostly Toji was trying to admire you, standing close, leaving little room for personal space and his hands wanted to roam all over. But he could sense some hesitation within you, slowing himself down, allowing each moment to carry his movements.

“Why don’t you… stay the night?” He asked, a completely mindless question on his part, but you were completely taken aback. “Toji, sir, I have only met you today,” you choked, “it would not be a good idea for me.” Heat rose within your chest, tinnitus raging in your ears, sweat pooled at the palms of your hands.

“Are you sure it’s your first time seeing me, because I know a peeping Tom, when I see one.” His tone and facial expression became less sweet and sensual, and became more primal, possessive. The sweet smile he carried earlier vanished and replaced with a devious smirk, his eyes narrowed, his canines revealed as his upper lip jerked upward. Surely, he must have been joking, and you were clueless of his remarks.

You weren’t able to form a response that was appropriate for this, so you just giggled instead, praying for it to pass.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You looked, wide eyed, “answer the question, sweetheart, do you — think I’m stupid.” His face inched closer and closer, although this was somehow what you wished, this time felt more sinister.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Toji,”

“Of course you do, don’t play dumb with me,” his fingertips squeezed hard around the flesh your thighs, you winced from the shooting pain, his fingerprints could very much well be imprinted on your skin. His eyes situated on your face, unmoving, unphased.

Your silence was not well received by him, he shoved his mouth on yours, subjecting you to a bruising, damning kiss that only he could deliver. Your senses paused, malfunctioned and your mind reeled insanely through the many lewd thoughts you had now playing right before your eyes. His hand found your throat, pinching and massaging the sides of your esophagus, before pulling away.

“So you’re telling you’ve never watched me?” His words were as clear as day, you froze, realizing that you, in fact, knew exactly what he was referring to. To the nights that you spent touching yourself at the dark silhouette that was him. To the nights that you couldn’t help but be a fucking pervert and gawk of that the way his hips moved and the way you wished that it was you that he fucked.

“I didn’t mean to, but I just couldn’t help myself,” you said what he wanted to hear and to your satisfaction he was happy to have heard that. His tough hands were no longer staying in one place, they glide up and down your thighs, pinching, scratching, leaving marks.

“Oh, you couldn’t help but stare at me while I was having sex with someone else? That’s new.” In one swift motion his hands hooked on the back of your knees and using his strength to toss you towards his welcoming hips. “Stay the night, and I’ll show you what you’ve been wanting.” He’s got you now, body fitted in his embrace so you leaned down to kiss him, a messy kiss, full of desperation, full of lust, full of longing. To be touched by Toji, was the greatest pleasure.

Weaving through the narrow hallway, still with your legs wrapped his waist, he swiped the box from earlier and escorted you to his bedroom. You didn’t realize how the sky was now a dark navy, the street lamps have long been turned on, the neighbors have all retreated inside their homes.

When the door closed behind you and a lock was twisted shut, that you let go of him. You scanned the room, the infamous room that you’ve spent the last 6 months wondering what it would look like. But now you were here, and your suspicions were indeed NOT confirmed. He had a normal room, and not some sex dungeon. A king bed with an exposed wooden frame, 2 feet off the ground, he had bedside tables on either side of the bed, and a nice brown rug to tie everything together. He had accent lights instead of the chandelier you somehow thought of. He didn’t have ropes and chains nailed to his wall and his bed hasn’t collapsed. (Yet). He had framed photos of his kids when they were babies, facing away from the bed.

“Tell me, what do you feel right now?” when he pressed his palm against your cheek and the other hand finding the dip in your waist. “I feel weak,” you said. “And why is that?” He only leaned down to kiss your neck but the motion startled you so bad you jumped, cornered by the side of his bed when you toppled on top of his mattress. “Because I’m at your mercy,” he lowered his lips to your ear, “indeed you are.”

He was quick, his hands ravaged your clothes, tearing them off like he’d done it a million times. Well, he had. You held no protest, allowing him to gain access to you so easily you grimaced in the face of submission. Until you were nothing but panty clad, your pussy dripping on the mattress. He lingered a while at the edge of the bed, running his eyes all around you, each gaze felt piercing, probing, but you loved it. He was fucking you with his eyes.

He palmed his cock, it was hard and throbbing and leaking out on his cream colored pants. “Do you see what you’re doing to me?” Toji exclaimed, his eyes narrowed, his breath shortened and quickened, his lips parted and his hands hungry. He rubbed his dick up and down its length, groaning as he pressed his palm down harder on it. “I’ve already known who you are, my sweet, the girl next door, always taking a peak at me when I get out of the shower,” he grinned at you as if you’ve been exposed. “Am I right? You stare at me through the shades of your window and think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I really thought I was being sneaky,” maybe it was the alcohol, or a total fluke, but you were being mischievous, and shall you say — cheeky. His expression to that wasn’t obvious, you tried to get a read on him, but the more you tried, the more mystified you became. Toji’s eyebrows weren’t exactly ones that expressed intrigue and his lips didn’t show any lust. His posture was neutral when he still grabbed you before kissing you fervently all over. Ah. Now you knew how he felt.

He was demanding, demanding of your touches, of your attention, of your presence. Toji was harsh with you, each beat of your heart tore through the silence of the room. You weren’t sure if it had gotten warmer or your body heat had just risen, either way you were damp with a sheen coat of sweat; and under the small light in the room, you glow like no other.

The highlights and contours of your curves accentuated, each dip and valley of your tits got him mesmorized the more he looked.

Toji could only find the strength to pin you down by the crook of your knees, spreading your pussy wide apart (which was drenched by the way). Toji inched closer, breathing light breezes on your clit but his arms kept you from squirming.

“H-hey, wait, I haven’t,” you wanted to say you didn’t shave, but it was like Toji read your mind when he carelessly dove in your wetness, his tongue went wild, his rhythm so erratic it was hard to predict his movements. But the sweetest part was him moaning and groaning and growling like a helpless dog against your heat, as if your body could be giving him more. He wanted more. He wanted more of those tenderness you provided him to sharply contrast his gruffness.

“This day could have come 6 months sooner,” he said after removing himself from your clit, seething through his teeth as if he resented you. He wanted to take those 6 months back, 6 months of him fucking into other holes that he wished were yours instead. Because Toji may or may not have lied about not knowing you.

You see, Toji would wrap his hand around his bulging cock as he peaked at you when you leave the shower when you forgot the shut the blinds. Even from afar, he admired the water cascading down your slippery body, your wet hair sticky to your body, the silhouette he dreamt to touch. A flimsy towel carelessly wrapped around your chest, threatening to loosen with just a single wrong move. He waited for it to drop, he waited for that towel to abruptly fall to your feet, he was betting on it. Toji couldn’t find it in him to bring that upon you, so he thought it was easier to bring home girls from the bars he frequented and wished they were you instead.

You could have been mine six months ago, sweetheart, he grumbled. He was face to face with you now, noses scraping each other as his fingers pumped themselves deep in your dripping cunt. Toji had a thing, a huge, thing, for messy make out sessions. You know, the ones where you can find spit dripping down the other person’s chin and the way you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Your fingers intertwined in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp softly, your lips fluttered along with his.

Why did you make me wait six months? He growled, Toji was angry, frustrated that he spent six months busying himself with his children and temporarg women to help him be distracted from you. But the more he pulled away, the bigger the force towards you became. Like a rubberband, the further you pull, the more resistance it sustains, eventually snapping back to its original structure. Toji felt an inexplicable pull towards you that he couldn’t resist.

But I’m here now, I’m here now, you said. No, you pleaded. Please don’t hate me, you thought, please don’t punished me, you said. It amazed you how you found those two lines synonymous.

Punish you? He was puzzled, although some part of him found it arousing as you might be into that kind of stuff.

You aren’t going to punish me? You asked innocently, as though genuinely hoping he wouldn’t, you didn’t mind if Toji got a little mean with you. After all, you deserved his wrath, to him, you have deprived him of what he longed for and for six months he was devoid for some actual gratification.

No, sweetie, at least not today, today I want to spend it, he said before kissing you hard on the lips that your teeth clashed, making it up to you, he said. Kissing down your neck and pinching your nipples in between his fingers while still having you clamped beneath him. Your bra was haphazardly unbuckled and your pantries hung loose at your ankle when Toji pulled it off earlier.

That’s a relief, thank you, you smiled. A really sweet and innocent smile that Toji wanted to corrupt. You’ve always had such a divine presence to you, so innocent and pure, so perfect for him to taint it. Toji wanted to see you slobbering all over his cock, the tip of it bulging in your throat and widening it with each thrust he delivered. You were drunk on it, Toji’s relentless, both in stature and strength.

When he got you in your knees, your skin met carpet and each movement pained your knees of carpet burn. But you pushed through it, taking every inch of his dick down your throat, gagging but very much enjoying this. While his hands on the sides of your head, gripping tight as he shoved his way pass your jaws and down your tight throat. You stuck your tongue out each time he bottomed out to stimulate his balls, heavy breeder balls sagging beneath his shaft. The gagging made your eyes roll to the back of your head, his vision blurred before you, but the feeling of his throbbing cock was present for each sensation. He fucked you so hard you both saw stars.

You’re so fucking good to me, sweetheart, baby yes please keep going, he moaned. Grinding further and further into your mouth. Toji’s stamina had decreased over the minutes but you had just been getting started, when his pace slowed, you pushed him further into the wall. You began pulling your head back and forth, subjecting yourself to the force and glory that was his cock, but he was helpless now, not when you took him like a champ without his help. I’m so proud of you, pretty baby, he moaned again.

“I want to make it up to you, too, Toji,” a look of pure earnest, he wanted to reward you so fucking bad. “You’re making it up to me so well, good fucking girl,” your two fingers circled your engorged clit, puffy and sore with need, missing him.

Before long, he came hard into your mouth, so much that some of spilled out to the side your mouth, and Toji kissed you, wiping it away with his tongue. “Do you like how I taste?” He asked, you nodded with your tongue out like a slut, his little slut. Toji’s cum was sweet, it tasted healthy.

“Are you sure you haven’t fucked someone before because goddamn,” you weren’t sure why Toji assumed you were a virgin but at least you could tell him that this was your first big girl blow job. “Is that so? I wouldn’t have known,” he smiled down at you, still on your knees, spread out for him gleaming up with Bambi eyes.

“You were so amazing sweetheart, come on, come to the bed.” When Toji bent down and picked you up like a bride on her wedding day and placed you down on his soft mattress. Memory foam. His blankets smelt fresh of rose detergent and eucalyptus dryer sheets. It didn’t take long for him to find his place on top of you, pumping his cock in his hand, “spread your legs,” he demanded, and you complied. Holding yourself by your knees, your legs opened wide, welcoming him in between. The girth of his cock was a godsend because oh, my, god. The drag, the friction were all better than what you’ve imagined. The feelings of your flesh rubbing together, creating overwhelming rushes of euphoria throughout both your bodies.

You didn’t notice when Toji reached into the box he’d brought up earlier and pulled out a purple rod; a vibrator. It was big, he clicked on it before it started to violently buzz. He methodically placed the silicone top of it to your clit, rolling and pressing it onto your sensitive spot and you could only convulse in a mix of pain, pleasure and little awkwardness. “I’ve been meaning to use this on myself but the perfect opportunity is just right in front of me,” he growled, changing the speed and rhythm of the vibe to compliment the thrust of his hips; his teammate. The vibration slowly started to numb your skin and Toji’s hand, but he wasn’t letting up until you squirted all over him. When your orgasm came through from the vibe, it dropped from his abs down to the white sheets, staining his Sherpa blanket but he said it was the least of his concerns. Toji like it when girls are submissive to him and you simply just melted in his hands.

“You’re perfect, you’re perfect,” he chanted, to him, you were perfect, just the best. One hand propped up on his hip from behind as if he was using it to push further into you, additional force, just what he needed. You liked the view from underneath him, you were able to bask in the sight of his ripped body, his abs toned and refined in more ways than one, the shine lingering from your juices earlier. His arms beside your heads were like rock columns, unbreakable, impenetrable. The power of his hips left yours feeling sore and bruised up.

For a moment of sheer intimacy Toji brought his hand to the top of your head, scruffing your hair before bringing it down to your temple and holding it there. Although the drive of his hips was still somewhat animalistic and inhuman, his face and voice conveyed a different message that was much softer, more sultry. Not much was spoken between you two when his cock drove in and out of your pussy but Toji was sure to announce his orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, let me cum in this pretty little pussy of yours yeah? Please, please let me cum inside,” and who were you to deny him of that after he’d been so sincere. Toji was so polite when he begged to breed you full of his seed, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer so might as well just bite your tongue and nod. Your eyes swell when you felt the warm ropes shooting straight towards your cervix, an unmoving target for him. Toji at this point, overstimulated and frazzled, looking completely haggard with sweat dripping down his temples. His hips still rolled, although lazily at this point, just wringing out any leftover pleasure from his high. “You did a good job, you did such a good job,” he cooed in your ear before you started to feel a blurry sensation washing over you, you were falling asleep.

“I’ll take care of you sweetheart, just let go,” you weren’t sure if you were so deep into it that you believed him so easily but Toji did what he said he would. After drifting off to sleep, he managed to climb out of bed, ass naked and hung up your clothes that were scattered on the carpet. He took a velvet hook from his closet and slipped them on neatly, hanging them on the hook of his door. Toji grabbed a small rag and drenched it with warm water, running it over your body, being extra careful around your face.

The warmth rushed you further into slumber.

You didn’t mind being one of the girls he cycled through as long as you could smell him, feel him, see him and how his cock felt like heaven. But Toji thought he’d keep you for now, for a long time from now. 

[by-proxy]

Small Flash Warning!!

I don’t know if I’ll finish this cause my silly ass doesn’t know how to plan and forgot what the rest of the animation was going to be which is why im posting the work-in-progress here ^^

honestly i dont think it looks too bad considering the fact that I haven’t animated in months to possibly a year 👀💦 actually kind of proud of the smear frame cause i find those so hard to do 😭

anyways i’ll keep you guys posted if i finish this, for now enjoy this rough draft of my skykids lore (🤓)

[bots-and-cons]

Hey a while back I sent in an ask that wasn’t an ask it was more like a submission. I didn’t think about it getting deleted when I re-deleted my account. I do that during collage semesters to fight the adhd urge to scroll and put off schoolwork but I pop in from time to time to check on old friends and interact.

Long story short this is the inspiration for the asking each respectable mech to take care of their tortoise Shelldon when they are gone. (Thanks for writing that btw😄) I went with an African spurred tortoise because it’s own-able. The real life Shelldon is an endangered and federally protected gopher tortoise that I think is about 3 years old now because he showed up in the spring of 2022 and mother gopher tortoises have been observed allowing offspring to hunker down in their burrow for their first winter.

But yeah dude showed up when I was replanting lettuce in my greenhouse and he started rummaging through the plants I just tossed on top of the compost pile, then he dug his burrow against my fence, and in a cat like fashion I have tortoise now and thus can never move 😂.

Due to him being a wild and protected tortoise I don’t want him to become dependent so I feed him only every so often and avoid dropping food (and I do a ton of research on what he can and can’t have) at the same time of morning or afternoon. I typically give him stuff most during the dry season since we’ve had droughts and in the winter when things die back. I will sprinkle stuff in the yard occasionally so he gets assorted veggies, I bought a small cylinder of grassland tortoise pellets, and he gets calcium fortified tortoise treats to find when out foraging every so often. But my biggest thing has been planting native grasses and a little patch of dandelions and wild pea plants against the fence.

I mean I probably shouldn’t interact with him at all legally but he moved into my yard and seemed to have a rough first year on his own, I had to move him back to his hole a few times because he got lost in my yard in 100 degree heat at the hottest part of the day when tortoises or really any animals avoid being out and started pacing in circles by the walkway because he knew he couldn’t get back to his hole in time and his shell was scalding hot those times I had to pick him up but he has seemed to have learned his lesson on what time of day is appropriate to be out and I haven’t had to move him since.

But yeah thank you for answering my ask, sorry for the ramble, and I hope you have a great week! 😄

I was wondering what happened to the ask, I thought tumblr was just being tumblr, because the amount of asks in my inbox didn't change but the ask itself disappeared. At least now I know what causes the phantom ask thingy to happen.

Anyway, I love all kinds of tortoises/turtles, and I think they're super cool, and Shelldon is also very cute. All of that is also really interesting, honestly I don't know much about tortoises in general even though we used to have one when I was a kid. Shelldon has a cool story to go with him too I see :D I think the way you're taking care of him is very reasonable and it's good you're not making him be dependent on you. Idk about the legality of it, but I don't think it's a bad thing. He looks very cute in the pictures, one hungry boi :D

[ro-writesstuff]

Harry Styles- No

//

a/n: we’re back with the angst! haven’t done one with Harry in a while so here we go. requests are still open!

summary: you and harry get into a fight , waking your daughter, Darcy.

pairing: harry styles x female!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, tears

word count: 990

not my gif!

~

It had been a rough few months to say the least. Harry had been on tour for about five months, without any time off. You’d been patient, but since your daughter just turned two, she needed a strong father figure in her life. Not to say that Harry wasn’t, but he did need to be around more.

“I’m not saying you need to quit your job, Harry. Just take a break. Darcy’s starting to grow up now, maybe you should be here more than you have been.” You were currently looking at your husband of two years standing opposite you across your kitchen island.

“You think I don’t know that?” Deep down, he knew you were right. Though he was scared to admit it, he could sense Darcy was starting to grow and understand her environment, so who was she going to see him as? Some guy that occasionally lives in her house?

“Haz, look. Just take a break for two months. See how you feel.” You sighed.

“I can’t. Everything’s crazy right now, Y/N.”

“Crazier than leaving your family for four months?”

“I’m trying my best here, Y/N! Why can’t you see that?!”

“I see it, Harry. I just-”

“I’ve been gone for a longer time.”

“I don’t want you to be gone longer or for the same amount! It’s like you’re absent in her life and mine, Harry!” Your voice was just above a loud whisper. Tears started to attack your eyes, leaving them feeling stung.

“You knew this before you married me, love. You knew about it all, and still wanted this!”

“You told me when we got engaged that you’d always be here, Harry. No matter what happened careerwise. You promised me.”

“So then why’d you marry me?” His green eyes, bordered with tears, pierced yours, causing a tear to fall from your eye.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

You both froze. Your daughter, Darcy, was standing in the hallway connecting the kitchen and family room, with a soft light illuminating her. She was holding her stuffed bunny Harry had gotten her the day she was born.

Harry walked over to her, crouching down, taking a knee on the floor. “Hello, darling.”

His voice changed immediately, a soft smile coming from his face to comfort your daughter. You never got tired of seeing him in father mode, leaping to his daughter’s side when she needed him most. Though his quick change of tone scared you a bit.

“Did we wake you?” Harry said, carefully pushing her hair out of her face.

“Yeah. S'okay though.” She looked down at her stuffed animal. Harry looked at her with such concern and attentiveness in his eyes. “Daddy, is mommy okay? She’s shaking.” Suddenly, he turned to look at you.

“Mummy and I are just having an argument, love. It’s normal. It’ll be okay.” He smiled at her, holding her hands for comfort.

Darcy looked at you for a confirmation.

“I’m alright, sweetie. I promise. Head to bed, okay? We’ll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in.” You smiled, leaning against the wall.

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you.” You both said at the same time.

After a few moments, you heard the door close.

Harry dropped his head, looking defeated. You walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he rubbed his temple. You knew it had been hard for him to see his family grow closer without him. He always voiced it, but it broke your heart to see him so upset.

“You okay?”

He didn’t respond.

“Haz?” You pulled his shoulder so you could see his face, revealing his red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“Hey. Hey. It’s gonna be alright, it’s okay Harry. ” You lifted his chin with your finger, as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped yours around his neck while he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You never knew how much this could weigh him down, especially right now.

He mumbled something into your skin. You pulled his face away from your neck. “What, honey?”

“I just- I just feel like you’re going to leave me. You should. You’ve been with me for four years; you’re probably sick of this shit. You deserve better. I mean, why haven’t you left? ‘M hardly ever home. You guys shouldn’t have to go through this.”

He was right. You were sick of this. You wanted him home for the smallest things, be it that it was stupid or not. You missed him walking around the house shirtless, despite his relentless teasing comments about you about staring at him. You missed hearing him and Darcy laugh in the morning over him not pronouncing things correctly, and her telling him how he was actually supposed to say it.

“That’s not gonna happen.” You reassured him.

He sighed. “I just- sometimes I feel like I’m losing you two. I feel so disconnected. I don’t know what to do sometimes.”

“We’ll figure this out, baby.” You said, wiping the tears from his face.

“I know we will. I love you.” His voice cracked.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier. I’ll always be here, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, too. I know how hard you work. We just miss you, that’s all.”

“I know, darling. I’ll see what I can do about that, yeah?” You nodded.

You both stood up from the floor, and started to walk towards Darcy’s room. Right before you entered, you looked up at him.

“Hey.” You whispered.

“Mmm?”

“I know how this is going to sound, but I married you because you made me feel like myself again.”

“Aww, angel.” He cooed. He wrapped his arms around your waist while yours was around his neck.

“The only reason I married you is because you’re good in bed.” He joked. You laughed, making him smile.

You smiled. “Our daughter’s walking proof of that.”

[goatgoatgoat7778]

I really don’t know why I have such an infatuation with this character lol. I haven’t felt confident in my art or writing in a while but I tried I guess. This did end up twice as long as the rough draft and I also have a second pic sketched out (the Railgunner needs love too, after all) so no one can say I didn’t try!!! Jus ignore how sketchy the pic is X’D

On another note, I have a test coming up with a LOT of vocab so maybe that’ll get me to write more. If you have any ideas/prompts for a story, you can send them to me; it might help spur some inspiration since I don’t really have any ideas atm.

Contains: Women-centric hunger kink, animals killed for food (not graphic though), one character briefly implies that guns are cool (If you want to skip these last two, stop reading after they get to Rallypoint Delta)

The first hour after she dropped from UES Safe Travels were difficult for the Huntress. She woke up late and missed the shuttle she was supposed to travel on, so she took an individual drop pod. Her descent into the atmosphere was turbulent, and her pod landed upside-down.Even worse, she landed far from her squad, alone on a dark foggy mountain side surrounded by monsters. Alone, at least until she ran into the Railgunner a few hours later, who was more than happy to team up with her. Things had been going well as they traveled but now, 72 hours later, the Huntress was starting to run on fumes. She raised her bow, arms wavering, aiming at a wisp about to fire at the Railgunner. Before she could release her bow, the Railgunner gracefully whipped around and shot it square in the middle, killing it instantly.

“You alright?” the Railgunner questioned as she brushed off the dust on her pants. “You’ve been a bit slow lately.”

The Huntress sighed, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get to the next teleporter.” Suddenly her stomach shook hungrily, and she brought a hand to it. She hoped the Railgunner couldn’t hear it growl. Back in her earlier years as a huntress, it was well known by her confreres that her stomach was so noisy and active it could easily give her position away- the fact that she was still one of the best in her profession regardless was seen as a testament to her skill. She sucked in her gut, as she often did when out on a hunt, to try and dampen the noise.

Part of her wanted to ask the Railgunner if she had any food to spare. Due to her lack of preparation before dropping onto the alien planet, she had run out of her rations on day one. The Railgunner had seemingly come prepared, so the Huntress felt it would be inappropriate to ask that her incompetence be covered. Surely she would find food eventually. She just had to wait it out. 

Two different pathways in the aqueduct appeared before them, both sprawled with chests carrying items necessary for their survival. “Split up?” the Railgunner asked rhetorically. 

The Huntress nodded and they parted ways. Her stomach began to churn and rumble once again and it seemed to echo across the rocky chasms of the dried aqueduct. At least she no longer had to actively hide it from her partner, and could focus on fighting and looting. With each chest she opened her stomach twisted in disappointment. A crowbar, backup magazine, and a medkit. Useful, but inedible. The energy drink she found seemed promising at the time, but it only caused her stomach to roil and gurgle even more intensely than before, irritated that it was filled but somehow still hungry. “What do you want from me?” she whined, resting a hand on her sunken-in tummy. 

 There was little time for rest though, because in the distance she saw the Railgunner waving her down having found the teleporter. She pushed down on her stomach.“You better stay quiet, or else!” she threatened. Her stomach gave a soft grumble of what she hoped was compliance. 

Once she caught up to the Railgunner they activated the teleporter, summoning the Beetle Queen. Together, they took her and her beetle guards out quick and easy but the Huntress was enervated from hunger and when the teleporter was fully charged, she practically collapsed. 

“Are you okay?” the Railgunner asked, trying to hide the worry in her voice.

“Just need a break,” the Huntress replied casually. A long drawn-out groan evinced the cause of her fatigue. 

Grrrrooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrwwwwwwwlllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

The Huntress’s face flushed beneath her helmet as the Railgunner cocked her head. “Was that your stomach?”

“Um, maybe?” Her stomach gave another belligerent grumble through her thin skinsuit, ensuring she could no longer deny its needs any more.

“Yeesh, I swear I saw your belly moving that time. When was the last time you ate?!”

The Huntress awkwardly fiddled with her fingers. “I, uh, ran out of food a couple days ago. Overslept, not enough time to pack.”

“Well why didn’t you-?! Nevermind. Here.” The Railgunner tossed her a protein bar. “Nothing special, but it should tide you over for a while.”

“Thanks,” the Huntress said as she devoured it greedily. Her stomach gave a small grumble with dissatisfaction, barely filled. She gave her ungrateful tummy a pat before they moved on through the teleporter. 

The teleporter took them to the abandoned camp Rallypoint Delta. After the two trudged through the snow for a while, they took a break for the night inside one of the forlorn cargo containers and huddled together. They were nowhere near freezing, but the close contact made them both more comfortable, though neither would outwardly admit it. 

“If I’d known we’d be taken to a frozen wasteland, I would have stayed back in the other place.” The Huntress shuddered, pushing herself closer to the Railgunner. 

“Mmhmm,” the Railgunner replied sleepily. 

Through the sound of icy wind blowing outside, the Huntress heard a noise. She readied her glaive just in case it was a new monster, but put it down when she heard the sound again.

Grooooooouuuuuuuuwwwwrrrrrrr

Hungry as she was, she knew it hadn’t been her this time. Gently she placed her hand against the Railgunner’s belly, hoping not to disturb her from her rest. She felt her stomach churning and grumbling beneath her rib cage. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen the Railgunner eat anything since they were at the aqueduct. Perhaps that protein bar had been the last of her rations. She pressed down in the crook of the Railgunner’s rib cage, inadvertently pushing a few grumbles out past her fingers. It was clear how painfully empty she was. 

The Railgunner, who’d been awake the whole time, hitched her breath. It was hard to keep up her cool, enigmatic facade with a growling stomach. More difficult still would be to admit that she liked the feeling of a hand assuaging her hunger pangs. Stupid pride. She crossed her arms.

The Huntress could tell she was abashed and tried to reassure her. “Hey, it’s alright. If anyone makes stomach noises cool, it’s you!”

“Well with a gun this big, there’s no way I can’t be cool.” she joked. “But… thanks.” The warm moment was short lived as a massive hunger pang rippled through her middle. She winced. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep like this. Maybe we should just keep exploring. I think we can handle it.”

“I know we can handle it,” the Huntress replied, pulling her up.

The two crept quietly through the dark and found that the camp was mostly devoid of useful items. They hoped it had been picked over by the survivors who they got split up from during the drop; maybe they were close by, and maybe they had food! But for now they were stuck with empty bellies and a long road ahead. 

“Shh! Look!” the Huntress whispered under her breath, pulling the Railgunner behind a rock. Peeking over the corner, the Railgunner could see a herd of unsuspecting bison. “How does some steak sound?”

The Railgunner’s mouth watered and she felt a large growl building up in her core. She pressed her arms into her gut and bent over to try and stifle it, but it was too little too late.

Grrroroooooooaaaaaarrrorooooooorrrrrrrrwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrgggggggrgllllllllllllllllllllleeee

Suddenly the bisons’ heads shot up and they looked directly at the rock they were hiding behind. They began to charge. Quick as lightning, the Huntress threw her glaives. The bison fell one by one as the glaives bounced between them. She wiped her brow. “Thank god for the stuff I found in the aqueduct. We could’ve been goners!”

“Now lies the issue of cooking it…” the Railgunner replied. She held up a container of gasoline. “I have this, though.”

“I mean… is that even safe?”

Both womens’ stomachs gave deep aching growls.

The Huntress shook her head. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers I guess.”

[honeyjars-sims]

1.47 I Won't Be Home for Christmas

Lexie: So I guess this is Christmastime in Del Sol Valley.

Johnny: Yeah, it’s no winter wonderland. I bet it’s more festive in Brindleton Bay. Are you going there for Winter Break?

Lexie: Well, I was supposed to, but my mom just told me that she and my dad are going skiing on Mt. Komorebi this year. 

Johnny: Oh, that sounds nice. Are you going with them?

Lexie: Nope. It was pretty last minute and they won’t be getting back until after the new semester starts.

Johnny: You sound disappointed.

Lexie: I am. I didn’t get to see them on my birthday, and now this. I’ve never not spent Christmas with my parents. It’s extra hard because I’ve been feeling a little homesick lately. I’ve never been away from my family this long.

Johnny: I’m sorry, baby. You’re welcome to spend Christmas with me and my family if you want.

Lexie: Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.

Johnny: Yeah, my parents would love to have you over! They’ve been hounding me to bring you around.

Lexie: Well, in that case, I’d love to come! I have a feeling your family knows how to entertain.

Johnny: Oh, for sure! There’s never a dull moment when we get together. I know it doesn’t make up for you missing out on time with your family, but I’m glad we’ll get to spend the holiday together.

Lexie: Me too. Christmas has always been a big holiday in my family. I was just thinking about my favorite Christmas memory. When I was 6, my parents surprised me with my favorite stuffed animal. You remember that little white dog from the dog food commercials?

Johnny: Yeah, he was so cute!

Lexie: I was obsessed with that dog. Apparently they made him into a stuffed animal and that’s what my parents gave me that year. I named him Snowflake and I took him everywhere. After a while he was more of a dingy gray.

Johnny: Aw, that’s cute! Do you still have him? Don’t tell anyone, but I still have my favorite stuffed cat from when I was a kid and I still sleep with it every night.

Lexie: I think that's sweet! Unfortunately our dog mistook Snowflake for a chew toy. My mom tried her best to salvage it, but it was a lost cause. I wish I still had him, though. Maybe having Snowflake to cuddle up with would help me feel less homesick.

Johnny: I’m sorry you’re missing home so much. I know I can’t replace Snowflake, but if you ever need a cuddle buddy, you know I’m here.

Lexie: Hmm, well, you’re not as soft and fluffy, but you’re still pretty cuddly. What’s your favorite Christmas memory? 

Johnny: Well, Christmas growing up was pretty rough. We didn’t have much money and my mom usually had to work so it was never much of a thing in my house.

Lexie: Oh, I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you didn’t grow up like I did.

Johnny: That’s ok, I haven’t really talked about it much. Maybe I’ll tell you more about it someday. But things were much better once I moved in with my dads. 

Lexie: That’s good. What do they do for the holidays?

Johnny: Well, Dad is Jewish and Pops grew up Protestant so we do a secular “Chrismakkuh” thing where we combine traditions from Hanukkah and Christmas. On Christmas Eve we make cookies and popcorn and hunker down in the living room for the night to watch cheesy holiday movies. We get our sleeping bags and make snarky comments about the movies. 

Lexie: Oh, like those movies where a woman goes back to her hometown and discovers the true meaning of the holiday season, which always involves a guy?

Johnny: Yep. Our first Chrismakkuh together, my parents kept trying to get me hyped up, but I wasn’t having it. I was just being a typical 14-year-old who was too cool to hang out with his family. But I ended up having a great time. That’s probably my favorite memory. 

Lexie: It sounds like a lovely one.

Johnny: It was. I remember waking up the next morning with the TV still going and seeing the rest of my family still snoring away in their sleeping bags. That was the first time I really felt like I was home.

Lexie: I’m glad you finally got to make some positive holiday memories. That must have meant the world to you.

Johnny: It did. And it means the world to me that I’ll be making memories with you this year.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[becauseimanicequeen]

Running Away is Achi’s M.O.

I’ve been thinking about this since I watched the 7th episode of To Be Continued earlier this week, but haven’t gotten around to writing this post until now.

If I were Ji, I would be more upset about the fact that Achi left Money than that he left Ji. (I’ve briefly written about it before, that I couldn’t believe Achi left his (animal) child.)

But Ji being surprised that Achi left him… I can understand that he was hurt because he’d fallen for Achi at that point. But that’s a whole other thing. Surprised, though?

Achi leaving for the US was kind of transparent since running away seems to be his m.o.

(Btw, I’m not writing this to point the blame at Achi because they’re both responsible for their miscommunication. I’m just observing a pattern.)

The first time we see Achi run away is on that pier/jetty when Ji hits on him with the whole your-face-is-pretty comment and then lays his head on Achi’s chest. Achi has an opportunity to reciprocate (because we all know he’s got feelings for Ji), but he doesn’t and chooses to leave the pier/jetty.

(Granted, Achi believes Ji is interested in Pear at this point, so he’s terrified of being honest about his own feelings.)

The second time Achi runs away is right after they had sex. He leaves the bed because he’s worried about having physically hurt Ji, while Ji believes Achi regrets having sex with him.

Achi was uncomfortable, so he left, which caused the whole misunderstanding that resulted in their ten-year separation (which was clearly needed, btw, but that’s another story).

(How I wish this scene had played out: Achi: “Babe, are you okay? I’m sorry for being rough.” Ji: “It was painful, but I’m okay. I know you’ve been waiting for this for a long time. It’s your turn to get railed next time.” The End. But that wouldn’t have been a very long series, would it?)

The third time Achi ran away was when he had his cousin act as his fake girlfriend. Ji wanted to talk to him but Achi thought he was going to get even more rejected and chose to do the rejecting himself.

And, then, the fourth time, when Ji wanted to give Achi the tickets to the beach so that Achi could go with his girlfriend, Achi had already left for the US without telling Ji. (Talk about being ghosted on a global scale.)

I could understand Ji’s shock if Achi’s choice to run away was just a one-time thing. But it wasn’t a one-time thing. It was a pattern.

The first time might be a mistake. The second time might be a coincidence. But the third time is a pattern.

Achi’s pattern was to run away when he was uncomfortable. He chose to leave.

Luckily, it’s ten years later now and he’s matured. So, this time when he’s faced with the uncomfortable (like photos, of what I assume are him and Ji, leaking), he won’t run. At least that’s what I’m hoping for since he seems to have learned from his past mistakes.

But, the fact that Achi abandoned Money… I still have a one-way ticket to hell with his name on it.

(But it’s okay if he comes to collect it after a very long and happy life with Ji.)

[coyotesinew]

Gonna be frank for a minute, I’ve been a bit out of touch with my nonhumanity recently.

I’m not losing connections by any means, but recently I haven’t been able to engage in ways I usually do. Mental shifts are few and far between, phantom shifts come and go in short moments. The most I’ve felt recently has been triggered in quick reactions—like loud sounds making my ears swivel or glimpses of small animals outside my window making my prey drive kick in for a second—but I haven’t had the longer shifts I’m used to. Feeling wolf-brained for days, my predictable full body morning phantom shifts, all my usual comforts. It’s been unbelievably uncomfortable.

I’ve known for a bit that stress can cause me to unintentionally stifle shifts, and this year has so far proven to be one of the most stress-filled times of my life, so it makes sense that I’m feeling this way. I won’t go into heavy detail, but this past month and a half has broken me down in a way I’ve never experienced & I don’t know when/if I’ll be built back up. I’ve gotten covid for the first time and my body and brain still aren’t back to what they were before, I’m fatigued and hurting, I’m dealing with very tense close-familial strain, and a million other little issues that pile and pile. The days are hard to get through.

Though it’s unintentional, my nonhumanity has always brought a comfortable sense of escapism. Daydreams and fantasies of rainy beaches and packs, dark streets and urban forests, security and livestock, have all brought me peace when feeling the world heavy on my shoulders. It feels more right than all my thoughts of the world I have to deal with as a human, but the state of things has become increasingly hard to bear and hard to ignore without immense guilt. As such almost all of my brain power ends up going to these issues.

I want so badly to feel like myself again, like an animal. I’m working on it but it’s rough. I’m taking every little thing in my life slowly because it’s all my mind and body will allow currently, I’m hoping mind + body + animalistic experiences will come back slowly too. I’m glad to have found an alternate form of nonhuman expression through more introspection/writing and focus on community engagement and informing while my raw feelings are hindered. Im glad I still have an outlet but I’d love to feel like myself soon, I just don’t know how soon soon will be.

I appreciate those that engage with me and care for my perspectives on stuff though, thank you for sticking around! Being able to engage with this community and interacting with everyone makes the days go a little faster and the weight a little lighter. 🩶

[p00fie]

||UPDATE/PINNED POST!||

||I FINALLY GOT ACCESS IN THIS ACCOUNT, I WAS PANICKING AND I THOUGHT THAT I LOST OR SOMEONE STOLE MY ACCOUNT AND EMAIL! Nope, I uninstalled the app for no reason, but finally I managed to get my account back by typing my recent username on my priv Twitter account. So how you guys all doing? Sorry for not being active in this account, I was highly active on Twitter/X. Right now, I’ll at least post something that I’ve already posted on Twitter. It’s mostly gonna be doodles I’d done on IbisPaintX and also, I haven’t drawn anything full colored in a while since at the end of May.||

||Anyways, I’m glad to be back in this account, I might aswell say my full introduction about me while I’m here typing this full on paragraph about me not being active and accidentally deleting Tumblr off my device.||

||♥︎||

||Hello, I go by as ame (kim if you’d like to call me). I’m quite shy, quiet, and silent when it comes to talking or posting my artwork. I mostly talk and comment a lot on anyone who comments on any of my posts, mostly I don’t if I don’t feel the need to. I am 18 years old and go by any pronouns if it’s fine for you all and my nationality, I got a COUPLE (seriously…) 🇰🇷🇻🇳🇺🇸. Most of my English grammar was somewhat broken, because of my rough childhood that I’ve been raised by my speech pathologist and having trouble speaking, but I’ve been getting and trying my best to express and communicate to others the right way.||

||For the art, I drew a lot of times doodles, comics, and animations for both IbisPaintX and Procreate. I’m also began learning how to draw in an anime style on Procreate since it’s quite easier for me to do than in my tiny ass device.||

||Anyways enough with me chatting, here are my username socials you can follow on different platforms: ||

||♥︎||

Instagram: mintasi_ <- old main… new main -> soon…

Twitter/X: _pffi

Discord: soon…

||♥︎||

||Fandom interests I’m in: ||

~ Cookie Run

~ Pretty Blood

~ The Battle Cats

~ Project Sekai

||I’m also will be willing to be busy in school soon for next week, so I’ll not be as highly active cause of that. Anyways, I might add more of my introduction and update incase I needed to bring out.||

||Well, I finally am back and it’s nice meeting you all again :>||

Edit update: Soon I’ll start working this Friday so just an fyi!!

[oneofthepowerful]

March 20th 2024 - Blog 4

Hello, and welcome to the 4th development blog, I’d like to apologise for it being over a month since the last one, my personal life got kinda busy and I haven’t had as much time to work on this series as I would've liked to. However, I thought I would still show some of the progress I have made this month. As always we are going to divide this blog into different sections!

Rigging

Last time I mentioned how Hoshi’s head rig was all ready to be rigged into the head turn, and how has that went? It has went surprisingly well, though I did go through some trial and error here and there. I have only roughly rigged the left head turn which I can control with a smart bone controller. If you’ve read my blogs you will know that I am following the head turn tutorial series by Sketchy Squirrel, and around a year ago, they made an add-on called Smart Bones, which heavily speeds up the process, and I knew while making Hoshi’s rig that I wanted to use this to help with the head turn! However, it was when I had gotten to the head turn process that I realised I had ran into a problem, recently Blender released version 4 which was what I was using to create the head rig, and between the switch to version 3 and 4 Blender had made some changes to the software which made the Smart Bone add-on no longer useable, (as far as I’m aware the developer is working on version of the add-on which is compatible for version 4). And I got pretty stumped, would I have to go the long way around making the head turn after all? Then an idea hit me, I should just use a version 3 build of Blender, but that can come with some difficulty, see when you switch between builds it can cause the rig to break, and when I opened up Hoshi’s rig on version 3.6 the bone folders that I used to categorise the rig’s bones no longer worked as these bone folders didn’t exist in this build of Blender, and all the colour coding for said bones were also all gone, but the great news is that the smart bones work now!! So I just re-categorised the bones in version 3.6 and fixed a couple of bugs with the rig and all was basically back to the way it was! And so, it was time for animating the head turn!

It was then I was running into another problem, you see I wanted Hoshi’s head to fully rotate to side profile, however I couldn’t get Hoshi’s jaw to deform the way I wanted, and I didn’t know how to hide his left eye and eyebrow when Hoshi rotated his head, as you sadly cannot mask Blender objects with each other, so I went back to studying various rigged shows to see how they did it, and to sum it up, it looked like to me that the head was broken up into several pieces, a circle being like the cranium of the head, and left and right cheek-jaw pieces that move behind the head depending on how it is rotated - it is pretty hard to explain this into words, but I basically divided Hoshi’s head up into several pieces and this worked!!

Last time I also mentioned that I would have to frame by frame the nose, and after a couple of attempts I got it working! Starting with the silhouette of the nose in sideview, I used Blender's animation interpolation tool to deform this line to follow the head turn smoothly, and added onto that, and currently there is still some frames that I need to fix, but it looks pretty decent for the most part, and after a few technical driver stuff, I got the nose to rotate with the head turn!!

And that leaves the mouth, after studying how rigged shows animated the mouth in side view, I couldn’t see how I could get my rigged mouth to work with it, so I am potentially considering doing the My Little Pony method lets call it. in the MLP:FIM series, parts of the rigs are frame by frame animated, and they do this for the mouths in particular, so I am going to have to look into doing something similar for Hoshi and future characters when they are in side view.

Down below is a work in progress of Hoshi’s left head turn, it is very rough still, I am working on fixing the clipping with Hoshi’s ear and beanie, as well as fixing some other things like the hair and left eye. I am super excited to eventually have this rig fully finished, as making a lot of scenes in episodes will hopefully be as simple as moving a few sliders to pose a character which will be such a time saver in the long run, and allow me to focus more on other aspects of the series!!

Concepts

During the past month I have also been thinking of character scenes for future episodes, which is a lot of fun!!

A while back I was thinking about Cassidy’s backstory and the episode(s) it will feature in, while I won’t give much detail into what happens for obvious reasons, for those interested in theorising, there is quite a few hints in Episode 1 & 2! But I will mention Erin’s Mother will play a big role in it!

On the topic of Cassidy, I was recently thinking of a scene that will take place during season 1 between her and Hoshi, where Hoshi talks about how he struggles to sleep at night, and Cassidy offers him some help by talking about what she does when she is in a similar situation, it’s a wholesome scene and I love precious little character moments like that.

I’ve been experimenting with Clip Studio Paint by sketching in it and I ended up drawing a sketch of Hoshi and his ex friend (you will find more about him and what drove their friendship apart in a future episode!) I am super happy with this sketch overall!!

Another sketch that I did with Hoshi’s ex friend (I am still figuring out a name for him XD) interacting with Livia, and she is very defensive and angry at people a lot, I wonder why hehe! I’m still debating whether these two will ever interact in the series at all, but it’s a possibility.

This past month I have been more focused on updating my animation portfolio, and while working on this I thought I’d work on some test animations for the series, one of these is an animation of Livia chasing down two robbers and taking them down! This was super fun to animate and gave me a great idea of Livia’s fighting style! Since she is a rabbit (fun fact: she was inspired by a rabbit I used to have) I’d have her kicking and jumping around her opponents - it is a super fun idea to play around with.

Adding onto the test animations, while tying this I am currently working on a test animation of Erin using their power to skydive! It’s taking forever to work on, but i’m getting there! This is the progress of it so far!

This is kind of all recent updates!! Thank you all for reading, and until next time!

[mickmundy]

okay so i know i kinda answered this in an ask BUT i really have been meaning to go through my gf and i's chats and find even more of our bushmeds so! ah! let's just think of this post as the dutchiebee medsnip masterpost where i will update with links to tags for each of these the more i ramble!! heh!! the catch-all tag for my personal bushmed rambles is still #medsnip of course, but some of these have specific tags as well! aaand as usual you can feel free to send asks or talk to me about any of these, i'm always glad to babble about them!! hehe!!

“Canon” MedSnip: the medic and sniper in Thou Giveth Fever is just the Main/Default/Canon/Whatever medic and sniper. takes place in same universe right after the comics! i default to talking about them the most!

Dutchiebee OC MedSnip: arlowe and wren! a lot of their story takes place pre-teufort but they eventually become RED’s medic and sniper! ^v^ “canon” red medic and sniper don’t exist in this universe. they’re already dating by the time they wind up at teufort together! we’re still working on a lot of their backstories but i’ll eventually talk more about them/write a fic for them too! ^u^

Vampire Medic/Hunter Sniper: sniper’s a vampire hunter who is hired by old, powerful and big vampire medic to do some dirty work for him. they end up falling for each other… but not before spilling a lot of blood together!

Merperson Medic/Human-Merperson Sniper: lots and lots of versions of this live in my mind but i think the one i'll elaborate on most is mermedic and lonely human fisherman sniper... for their fish parts, medic is a blanket octopus and sniper is a spotted wobbegong!! hehe... i also love the idea of mersnip and human medic, who harvests/researches exotic animal parts and is given sniper as a gift (mann co caught him? who knows) and thinks that sniper is simply too fascinating (handsome) to kill! hoo!

"Priest"-Demon Medic/Priest Sniper: medic was a human that was killed by the church and comes back as a demon set out to destroy it. takes interest in the church that sniper has been a part of for his whole life and begins causing chaos (falling wooden beams, gossip, making people question their faith etc. whatever medic thinks is fun at the moment)... but sniper catches his eye.... they develop feelings for each other..... but sniper doesn't know what medic Really Is.... gasps.... hehe

Researcher Medic/Swamp Monster Sniper: sniper is a werecroc that lives out in the comfy cozy australian bush/marshland (haven’t decided yet). roughs it as a human and also as a crocodile and loves being alone. until one day a very curious “doctor” starts stomping around his secluded slice of heaven in search of/researching the plants and animals of the area (to harvest for his zany experiments of course!)… sniper hates people but this one just seems kind of… Charming… hmm…. !

Cult God Medic/Nonbeliever Sniper: medic is a shapeshifting god/demon/spirit/whatever that thrives and grows in power from the cult that is convinced he exists and worships him. likes toying with them and giving them “signs” he exists and whatnot and loves the praise because, well, who wouldn’t! :-) hoo! buuuut a Certain Denier has caught his eye…! sniper thinks that cult nonsense is a load of crap and doesn’t fall for it. Naturally this makes medic Carnally Desire him and his attention… HEHE… >:)

Old/Retired/Domestic MedSnip: would follow my “canon” versions of them. years and years later, some vague skip of time. the sorrow..,., the sweetness.,., in the Unlikely Event they retire… how might that go.. :) sniper’s fine with aging but medic is NOT. everything can be defied! age! death! isn’t that what you want sniper!! but maybe sniper wants to retire to some small house on the german coast with medic.,., medic can extend his life infinitely with his “devil deal” but what about his sniper.,., who has already died once… but could either of them Really ever retire…? HEHEH.., i’ve actually written a lot of this and i should probably publish it in a standalone fic. very emotional very angsty!!

Unicorn Medic/Pegasus Sniper: EHE this is an extremely self indulgent one but i love it all the same! does what it says on the tin… what if they were ponies!! i’ve talked about it here and posted sniper’s design here! i need to work on medic’s just for the sake of having my own ref sheet to match sniper’s but i talk about him in the twt thread i linked! ^u^ <3 i just love gushing about them because i love ponies!!

[wintercosmicskye]

I designed Halkenna a spaceship! Say hello to the Midsummer Meteorite!

It’s a flying saucer-esque ship but more rounded. I actually got the name for it from animal crossing new horizons, its what i made Halkenna’s passport title lol (i might show that in a another post sometime). Forgot to mention this in the ref itself, but the windshield is what open and closes and how he gets in and out.

I think he was around 13 when he found the ship in the scrap yard, and almost 15 when he first went to Earth. I think the spaceship lasted until he was roughly halfway between 17 and 18 when it became too busted up to just keep repairing over and over like he had been until that point. (These are only rough estimates and may be adjusted as needed, I haven’t completely figured out my timeline yet). It lasted a surprisingly long time for something he found in a scrap yard that he repeatedly repaired over the years with various odds and ends. Despite already being a bit obsolete by the time he found it, the technology is still leagues better than Earth’s, as going 80,000 light years away is a fairly reasonable task for it. If that spaceship’s considered old and obsolete, makes you wonder just how advanced the newer and larger ships are.

For awhile he wasn’t sure what to name it, but he thought of it a little awhile after he started visiting Earth. The first time he went there was during the summer, and his landing was a bit rough. A few people (his soon to be girlfriend and her friend) had briefly seen it while it was in the sky, but from where they saw it it merely looked like a meteor/shooting star, granted a little brighter than usual (I’d like to think to she saw it first and made a wish, immediately followed by a hmm uhh wait that shooting star looked a little different actually, further followed by a loud but distant thump). He had luckily landed in a forest and not in the middle of civilization heheh, probably would have caused quite a few problems otherwise. Did she investigate that night or the next morning? I haven’t quite decided that part yet, I’m leaning towards that same night. I got from Bug Spray (the song) that her dad doesn’t like it when she’s out after dark. Either the friend she was with seemed mature enough to him for some lenience to stay out later and watch the stars, or it was a snuck-out situation. Or maybe she just managed to see the meteor and hear the thump from her window. Like I said before, there’s definitely still a few things i need to work out.

The Midsummer Meteorite had its pros and cons. It was fast and agile, but it had no built in weapons and had a lot wear and tear over time. Due to its small size, it would often be overlooked, and it was easy to hide away if need be as well as easily fit on larger ships. Friends he made over the years would sometimes tease him about his ship being “dinky,” but he didn’t really care. Halkenna is used to piloting defensively and a bit unpredictable, because of this he was often described to pilot “like a lunatic/maniac/idiot” (depending on how they each preferred to phrase it) and as such the majority of his friends refused to let him pilot their own ships.

He was devastated when the Midsummer Meteorite did inevitably kick the bucket. It was of course a long time coming, not only because of the damage and age, but since he had gotten it when he was only 13 he had grown taller over the years and the little ship became more confining and awkward to use (it was likely initially designed for a species a little smaller than himself). Like how a hermit crab eventually outgrows its shell and needs to find a new one, Halkenna too outgrew the ship on top of the damage done to it, and had to find something new.

It almost pains me a little to have had so much fun designing this spaceship only to ultimately decide it eventually has to be replaced, but not only does it ultimately make sense but it also kinda matches some of the themes present in the music project. Yknow like moving on and stuff, best summed up by Jami Lynne’s quote in the description of Ultranimboy A Letter to a Dying Star. Despite working fine earlier, for some reason im not able to paste things on tumblr so I can’t put the link to it, so here’s a screenshot of it instead:

I actually wonder now whether it might work even better if he decides to to move on from it before it officially kicks the bucket.

I like to think he keeps a few parts of it to add to his new ship maybe. Speaking of his new ship, im actually not sure what it would look like yet, and before you ask nooo its not gonna be the Mercury Retrograde from Omori. The Mercury Retrograde is cool and all, but the vagabond vigilante Galactic Love Defender Space Boyfriend and his newly adopted little brother Little Jack dont need a ship THAT big for just the two of them or any guest they might have, and there’d need to be a whole crew to man all that. I’m thinking there’s maybe a few separate rooms, at least a separate cockpit and bedroom to sleep in unlike before where Halkenna would either sleep in the seat or on the floor of the Midsummer Meteorite in a sleeping bag.

I’ll elaborate more about some of these things later, this post has already gotten quite long

I actually rambled a lot more than I meant to, especially considering all the stuff i already typed in the image itself lol. Anyways, I hope you like it ^v^