#a part of it may be because- and im just assuming here- a lot of them are based off first class where cherik is at its peak

[xxplastic-cubexx]

ironically even though the movies keep charles in his chair, like 90% of the movie based fanfics don't

😶

[nyancrimew]

Do you think your race/nationality may influence on the consequences of hacking? Or like how far you can even get?

I'm asking because I very rarely see a "prominent" hackitvist that's not white European/USA

it is definitely a factor yes, especially with me, like the only reason im free rn is because switzerland doesn't extradite citizens. but another very big part of it is that to become a widely prominent hacktivist (and as with many other things) you either need to do things western media cares about or get in trouble with the law big time (in the west), which also usually implies being in a country that actively works together with primarily the US or other empires that actively and publicly work against hacking and hacktivists. there are lots of hacktivists in asia and latin america (specifically phineas fisher here also being a popular figure, who is believed to be in latam and has yet to be caught) as well especially (also elsewhere ofc but i dont know of as many), but they are either doing hacktivism within their communities which are usually not internationally that news worthy, or are out of reach enough for the US empire to never get unmasked.

in a lot of ways being a popular hacktivist as an individual is actually moreso a failing in staying safe from consequences by either you or people you work with (see in the history of lulzsec and most of the now well known anonymous figures in the US) or a conscious choice done out of the knowledge that you'll be relatively safe/recklessness. but i definitely feel like international (social) media bias towards western interests is also just a very big part of why you will mostly only ever hear of (assumed) white european/american hacktivists.

and also just as a quick closing note, i would not say that (even white) people in the US or the US sphere of influence are safe from consequences due to hacking in any way, the US is one of the strictest countries when it comes to persecuting hackers and goes to long ways to be as cruel as possible, and especially so with hacktivists. this goes so far that in the 2020 counterintel report the US government put hacktivists/leaktivists on the top 5 biggest threats to the US government, which is ofc both a honor (and shows it works and scares them) but is ofc also scary as fuck. it is this big spectacle they make out of persecuting hackers and making examples out of them that also leads to more of the very distorted prominence of western hackers.

[mr-ribbit]

gonna rant again bc im seeing a lot of trans women on my dash having to carry the heavy lifting to argue for their basic respect and a lot of other queer people who want to ??? get mad about that apparently. for the record as usual: im tme, im not speaking for anyone besides myself and my perspectives, but I am trying to reach out to fellow tme people to level with y'all from inside the house.

i thought we all got past the 'calling people gendered terms when theyve asked you to stop' thing in like. 2012. i swear we were allllll on board with not calling women dude anymore, nerfing sir and ma'am, neutralizing collective terms for groups, and all of that was like, during the onceler era. that's how we got off-putting shit like folx into the mix - remember???? why are we here again.

to those who I've seen claiming that they REALLY genuinely don't want to offend anyone, and that theyre trying to understand the dude thing, and they don't want to be seen as transmisogynistic when they aren't: ok. let's talk about it. step one, stop sending that really loaded anon to a trans woman you don't know, and close that in-group hatepost with 100 replies from people name-dropping trans bloggers they don't like. try to open your mind and assume for the duration of this post that I am not cynically trying manipulate thousands of tumblr users into making Bro the next big swear word, but a fellow queer human being who thinks you're all being pretty intentionally obtuse about an upsetting trend in our community

to be clear: this post is about the issue of trans women being called bro, dude, man, etc., particularly in recent tumblr discourse about transmisogyny, and the backlash they face if they get upset about it. this is also maybe moreso about the shitty ass excuses I see tme people make for why they supposedly can't stop doing this.

so let's go through some of the things I've been seeing people say they don't understand, supposedly in earnest, about this issue

"I DIDNT USE DUDE AS A MASCULINE TERM. I CALL EVERYONE BRO. MAN IS A GENDER NEUTRAL TERM"

I'm not actually going to exhaust my list of reasons why dude/bro/man are not strictly neutral, but you should be pretty aware that all words have context. Dude might be seen as neutral in many contexts, sure, but 'woman who is frequently called a man by others' is a situation where the context adds extra meaning to your words, just like calling someone "sweetie" might be neutral in some cases, but if you've got the context of knowing that's your coworker who's half your age, it's a bit less neutral. If you're not capable of reading that context and being tasteful about when you say dude, then you need to at least be ready to respond gracefully when someone asks you to stop. This is the part I'd rather focus on.

"BUT I DIDNT MEAN IT THAT WAY. IM NOT TRANSPHOBIC"

I think you should consider broadening your perspective *beyond* your intention behind the word. people may already understand that you meant the word neutrally and therefore didn't have transmisogynistic intent, but that's not really the entire scope of what people are saying. if that's your only concern, you're just trying to clear your record, not actually listen to what they're saying.

there are lots of words people don't enjoy being called, and in most cases, when they say 'pls don't call me that', people respect that and move on. even if the word isn't a slur, if it hurts someone's feelings, we all as a society have agreed that it's pretty shitty to keep calling them that. if your friend asked you not to call them 'buddy' anymore because their dead grandparent called them that, or something equivalently personal, you'd probably respect that instead of telling them 'but I call everyone buddy!!' right? even if you didn't really understand why it bothered them so much?

there is a prominent tendency for trans women to be denied this privilege, and when they ask not to be called dude or bro, people don't seem to respect this request as much as they would in other situations. when I accidentally use a gendered word and someone tells me they don't like it, I try to respond with something like "my bad, I didn't mean it as misgendering but I can see you were still bothered by it, so I'll try not to keep saying it. sorry!" and most people are willing to accept that. when trans women ask people this favor, a lot of people get VERY defensive, and treat the request as inane or unfair, instead of just apologizing and moving on. this is why people are upset when this happens, and it's why people are calling your actions transmisogynistic

also like you might not be doing this, but a lot of people DO use dude and bro in an intentionally gendered way to make trans women uncomfortable. it's a power play bigots use to talk down to them or otherwise maliciously harass them. do you know what arguments they use to defend that behavior when called out on it? 'oh I call everyone that' 'dude is gender neutral calm down' 'dont overreact its just a word'. by acting like this, youre all just giving credence to those same arguments.

"WELL THEY SHOULDNT GET SO MAD AT ME WHEN I DIDNT MEAN ANY HARM"

they can get as mad as they want!! also, are you sure they're 'mad'? or are they just expressing their feelings about a negative topic to you, and it makes you feel bad, so you have to make them out to be unreasonably emotional? how do you think they should have phrased 'dont call me that' to better spare *your* feelings?

also like, in most cases, these women do not knowww you. if your main response to someone saying you disrespected them is to say "I didnt mean it that way, I meant it in a friendly neutral way", well that's NOT YOUR FRIEND! she has no idea what your opinions are or what you think of her!!! she has no reason to assume you only upset her in a friendly way and not a bad unfriendly way! but she did get upset, and she did the one thing she can do which is *tell you what upset her* and your response is to say "well actually you shouldn't be upset at all"??????

and another thing:

it's not just the issue of using the word 'dude', it's because you're coming off extremely dismissive of women who have asked you to stop doing something that harms them, and because your argument is basically that they just shouldn't be so bothered by it. or that they're stupid, irrational, or otherwise crazy for telling you that it bothered them at all, just because you Technically used a gender neutral word according to Your Rules. be honest, does that seem fair? If people were calling you something that bothered you enough to ask them to stop, and they responded like this, how would it make you feel?

focusing solely on your intent and what the words mean when you use them is the same thing as saying "just get over it". no woman should need to Prove to you that 'dude' is gendered for you to care about what she's saying. the fact that you're asking people to do that sucks and makes you look bad, which is why people are arguing with you and calling you a misogynist.

especially those of you who are only doing this with trans women who are actively arguing with. you're wielding misgendering as a cudgel and we can all see it, grow up please.

[choccy-milky]

I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

[fushisagi]

miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

୨୧ ━━ ❛ what am i to you, atsumu? ❜

word count ⋆ 12.6k (12,607) genre ⋆ fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, college au ━ gn!reader

the question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you. alternatively: miya atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?

warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, mutual pining, denial of feelings!!! lots of it!! and with this denial comes some stupid decisions!!! author’s note ⋆ ive actually like never been to the psychic before so if its inaccurate im so sorry ..... it’s not really a big part of the plot though so hopefully u can overlook it 😭

o. Desire

This is a scam, is Atsumu’s first thought when he takes a seat inside the tent and finds himself face-to-face with a crystal ball.

People like this are dangerous — his twin brother never lets anyone forget it. They take advantage of an individual’s fear of the unknown and they make money off it. It’s genius, because even the strongest people can become weak to something as mundane as self-proclaimed clairvoyants setting base near a college campus.

Atsumu supposes he’s no exception. Even if Bokuto was the one who forced him to do this in the first place.

“Hello,” the woman greets, her hair pinned into a tight bun. “You’re here for a reading?”

“Sure,” Atsumu huffs, shivering when the cold breeze sneaks into the tent. He really should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

When he looks up from the table, the woman gives him a smile. It’s analytical, as if all he needed to do was sit down for her to know everything about him. He fidgets in his seat, growing more uncomfortable under her gaze.

“So,” she says, clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “What is it that you desire most, boy?”

 “I’m sorry?”

“Your greatest desire,” she repeats patiently.

Atsumu blinks before tilting his head. “Um, I’m not—”

“I’m sure you know,” she says. “Is it strength? Power? Love?”

All colour drains from Atsumu’s face. The psychic smiles wickedly.

Atsumu thinks this may be the end of him. He never liked it when people acted like they knew more about his intentions than he did, and it only took mere minutes before the woman figured him out.

His hand twitches. He would feel a lot better if you were here—

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue, “bingo.”

i. Strength

After a borderline homicidal game of rock, paper, scissors, Sakusa lands himself a new roommate.

Move-in day comes two weeks later and Atsumu sits in the lobby of the building, waiting for your car to pull into the parking lot.

He notes the time — it’s five minutes past 8:30, making you more than half an hour late — before grumbling under his breath and continuing to scroll through his feed. When Instagram notifies him that he’s all caught up, he exits the app and opens Twitter in hopes that something will be able to entertain him until you show up. He likes some tweets, retweets a few more, and terrorizes Suna before he grows bored at the lack of anything interesting on his timeline.

Another glance at the time. He scowls. It’s only been two minutes.

Atsumu debates asking Sakusa if he knows what’s happened to you. When he opens their message thread, he raises an eyebrow at how unbelievably one-sided their conversations are, but he decides that’s a problem for another day. Your absence is more important to Atsumu than Sakusa’s terrible conversational skills ever will be.

(He’ll bother Sakusa about it later).

He’s about to send a long string of emojis when an incredulous voice reaches his ears.

“Tsumu?”

He looks up and immediately pockets his phone with a grin. “You’re late.”

You adjust the box of donuts in your hands and squint at him as if his smile is as blinding as the sun. “I slept through my alarm. What the hell are you doing here?”

Atsumu gestures to his outfit. “What does it look like?”

You stare blankly.

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “I told you last night I’d help you move in. How’d you forget? Am I that forgettable? You wound me, I—”

“Shut up,” you say, shifting your weight. Atsumu’s eyes flicker to the sticker on the box, and he tries his best not to frown when he notices you’ve written Sakusa’s name in calligraphy with a heart at the end. “Of course I remember you offering to help because I spent my entire night telling you it was fine.”

“You expect me to believe that you can bring all your shit in by yourself? You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Thank you, Tsumu, I can always count on you to make me feel like I’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow,” you quip, brushing past him to get to the elevator, and as if it’s second nature, he follows. “I can’t believe people walk around campus calling you sweet.”

“I never said you looked bad,” he says. “I think the dried drool on your chin is pretty cute, actually.”

“Whatever,” you hurriedly wipe your face. “Speaking of bad, what on Earth are you wearing?”

Atsumu knows full well you’re not complimenting him, but he decides to treat your comment as if you have. He beams, picking at the sweatpants you eye with disgust before walking into the elevator with you.

“It’s my mover outfit!”

“Your mover outfit,” you deadpan. “Disregarding whatever that means — those sweatpants are baggier than Kenma’s eyebags. And they do nothing for your ass.”

He smirks. “You were checking out my ass?”

You avoid eye contact, feigning indifference, but Atsumu’s known you for too long and immediately recognizes your fluster by the way you tug at the hem of your clothing.

“No,” you deny curtly, straightening your posture when the elevator doors open to show Sakusa’s floor. “It’s just hard not to notice when those sweats are ridiculously baggy. Seriously, are you trying to put something in there? I could fit a month’s worth of groceries in those.”

You’re walking swiftly, eager to get to your new apartment and end the conversation. The both of you are well aware that Atsumu’s more than capable of catching up with you, but he hangs back, preferring to watch you babble while he trails behind.

You clutch the donuts closer to your body as words tumble out of your mouth — a list of things that could fit in his sweats, including two jugs of milk and a family size pack of chips — and Atsumu can’t stop the lopsided smile from appearing on his face.

“Maybe a carton of eggs, too,” he suggests.

“Oh, I wouldn’t trust you with eggs,” you say sharply.

“Why not?”

“Are you really asking me that? Last month I lent you my blanket and you gave it back to me with a hole in it.”

“For the last time,” Atsumu begins, quickening so he’s side-by-side with you, “that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“…Alright.”

“Y/N,” he whines. “I’m serious! None of that was on me — I even bought you a new blanket! Would Samu have done that? I don’t think so—”

“Actually—”

“The point is,” Atsumu interrupts, throwing you a glare before continuing, “blame Samu. Whenever something bad happens, blame him. That’s what I always do.”

“Spoken like a true, responsible individual.”

“Hey!” he protests. “I’m responsible!”

You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the pout he plasters over his face is enough for you to give in. Too tired to give him something as golden as a verbal agreement, you opt for changing the subject. “Do you think Sakusa will like the donuts?”

Atsumu frowns. “Why does it matter? They’re donuts.”

You grow annoyed at his impertinence. “I want him to like me, you moron.”

His expression sours further. “He’s your friend.”

“And I won a game of rock, paper, scissors, so now I’m his roommate,” you remark. “There’s a difference between being friends with someone and living with them. I mean, would you want to live with Bokuto?”

Atsumu’s answer is swift. “Hell no.”

“Exactly,” you say, “I need us to get along.”

You stop in front of a door and begin searching your pockets for your key. There’s a pinch between your eyebrows, the box trembles as you struggle to balance it with one hand, and your clothes are a mess, but underneath the fluorescent light of the hallway, Atsumu can’t help but think you almost look angelic.

He shakes the thought away, squashes it beneath his foot until the remnants of it have been absorbed by the carpet.

“The last time I saw you this nervous was when you asked out that barista,” he muses.

You dig your hand into the breast pocket of your shirt and huff when you find nothing. “What are you implying?”

Atsumu stares pointedly at the sticker on the box. Your face morphs into one of horror.

“Are you dense?”

“Calligraphy, Y/N. I’ve never seen you write calligraphy in my entire life.”

“I was trying something out!”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

You smack him on the shoulder. “I was being thoughtful,” you grunt, softening when Atsumu winces and rubs the spot where you hit him. “He’s my friend, and that’s all he ever will be.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Your eyes leave him for a millisecond, flickering to somewhere else on his face before returning his gaze once more. “Of course,” you say softly, “Besides, I—”

The door swings open.

“You’re loud,” Sakusa deadpans in the doorway. His eyes travel down to the donuts. “Are those for me?”

You hand them over to him. “Yeah, I didn’t know what you liked, so they’re all assorted.”

Sakusa hums in thanks before tilting his head at Atsumu. “Why’re you here?”

“To help them move in,” Atsumu grins, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. “I know you’re going to the drycleaners, and I couldn’t let Y/N do this all by themselves.”

Sakusa shrugs and turns to go further into the apartment. “Sounds good to me. I’d rather not have to press those nasty elevator buttons multiple times just so I can come down and get your stuff,” he gives you the best apologetic look he can muster. “Have fun, though.”

Before you can go on a tangent about how Sakusa should be more welcoming, Atsumu pipes up, “Yeah, don’t worry! ‘S all in good hands,” he nudges you with his elbow. “Right? Your stuff can’t be that heavy.”

Atsumu, not for the first time and certainly not the last, stands corrected.

Not only is your stuff heavy, but there’s much more than he expected.

With each trip down to the parking lot, his muscles grow strained, and he feels the fatigue threaten to droop his eyelids shut. But, in the corner of his eyes, he sees your persistence to get this over and done with, and Atsumu decides it won’t hurt to push through.

His complaining and wailing can wait until later.

After you place the last box into your new bedroom, you turn to him while wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly.

He goes to tease you, to say that you owe him now, that you’ll be indebted to him for life.

But what comes out of his mouth instead is: “‘Course. Call me whenever you want, and I’ll be there.”

Atsumu calls it a housewarming gift. Sakusa says there is hardly anything warming about it.

It referring to the group of boys gathered in the living room — your friends on good days, the bane of your existence on all the others — with their limbs strewn about and their soda cans sitting too close to the edge of the coffee table. It’s an odd sight for Sakusa to have this many people over on a Thursday night, but Atsumu insisted, and he caught Sakusa on a good day when he asked if he could hold a movie night at the apartment to celebrate your new accommodations.

You’re sure Sakusa regrets it now. He sits in his armchair with a permanent scowl, swatting Hinata away when the boy reaches to fix the crease between Sakusa’s brows. If looks could kill, Atsumu would’ve been dropped dead ten minutes ago.

He covers his fear with a grin, but out of the corner of his mouth, he says to you, “Help me.”

You snicker. “You’re on your own, dude.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“What? But Bokuto calls you that, too!”

“Yeah, but it’s Bokuto.”

“I have no idea what you mean by that.”

Atsumu only tsks, forcibly ending the conversation by suggesting to the room that they should all play a game to decide who’ll prepare all the popcorn. A chorus of agreements is what he gets in response, along with someone complaining about how he should be spared due to his gruelling volleyball practice, and another person expressing his sympathies for the future loser.

Atsumu prepares the ladder game, and after he’s done, he looks at everyone with fiery hot intensity, an expression similar to one he wears during a match. “Remember,” he declares, “whoever loses can’t complain.”

Luck isn’t on his side tonight.

“What the hell!” he screeches once the reality of his defeat settles in.

Osamu, far too smug for Atsumu’s liking, quips, “I thought you said no complaining.”

The noise that leaves Atsumu’s mouth is something akin to a pathetic but animalistic growl. He goes to protest, even raising his hand to list off reasons why he’s been wronged — someone must’ve cheated, or maybe everyone in this room has a ruthless vendetta against him — but just as the words are about to leave his lips, his eyes land on you.

You challenge him to complain with a look, and he suddenly gets a much better idea.

“Y/N,” he says sweetly, growing pleased at your uneasiness. “As the host of this housewarming party, it’s only fair that you help me, too.”

“What?” you squawk, leaning forward as if you’ve misheard him. “But you were the one who suggested doing all of this! How is it now on me to help—”

“Well, he wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you,” Sakusa muses.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you taking his side? What happened to roommate solidarity?”

“You just made that up,” Sakusa replies. “Besides, this thing will go by faster if two people prepare the popcorn, and I don’t think Miya wants anyone else other than you.”

Atsumu shifts uncomfortably at the implication, and he involuntarily commits your surprised expression to memory.

(When he goes to sleep later that night, your surprise is all he sees against the darkness of his eyelids).

“Other than me—?”

“To make the popcorn,” Sakusa drawls matter-of-factly.

You blink. “Right.” You look at Atsumu, and he shrugs dumbly, unsure of how else to react to your sudden change in behaviour.

To him, you have always been easy to read, but right now, he’s not entirely sure if there’s a word for the expression on your face. He yearns to press a hand to your cheek to melt the malaise away, to be rid of it forever so he can see you smiling again.

Something in his chest twists.

“Right!” you repeat, more loudly this time, and startling the rest of your friends. You slap your hands on your lap before standing and grabbing Atsumu’s wrist to pull him away. “I guess I’m helping you make popcorn. You owe me one, Miya.”

Your skin is warmer than usual, threatening to burn him until your fingerprints are marked onto his skin.

(Behind him, Suna stage-whispers, “You are so whipped, Y/N.”)

Your touch disappears the moment you’ve both crossed the threshold into the kitchenette. Atsumu flexes his hand, trying to get rid of an urge in his veins he can’t quite explain.

“Hey,” you say casually, back turned to him as you dig through the cabinets for the popcorn packets. “Did you finish that essay for literature class?”

Atsumu awkwardly clears his throat and begins playing with the settings on the microwave. “The paper?”

“Yes, the paper,” you say. “The one I told you to start two weeks ago so you wouldn’t end up sending a half-assed essay two minutes before the deadline?”

“Why are you talking like you think I didn’t start it yet?”

“Because I know you, Tsumu,” you reply, shutting the cabinet with your elbow and ungracefully dropping the packets onto the counter beside him. “And I lost faith in your ability to listen to me a long time ago.”

“How rude. I always listen to you,” he sticks his nose in the air like a scorned, evil, cartoon antagonist, “I just don’t take all your suggestions. There’s a difference.”

“You make my life so much harder,” you huff, inputting a minute-thirty into the microwave. “I honestly think I lose ten years of my lifespan whenever you tell me you’ve gotten yourself into another dilemma.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure you only lose, like, three at most.”

“No, it’s definitely ten,” you say. “You worry me too much, Miya.”

The smile on Atsumu’s face, previously smug and confident, softens.

“Seriously, though,” you continue, jabbing a finger into his sternum. “The paper? It’s due tonight.”

He flicks your nose, snorting when you pull a face. “I sent it in this morning.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Don’t act so shocked!”

“Well, this is, like, the first time you’ve ever done something even remotely responsible, so—”

“I thought we both agreed I’m a generally responsible person.”

Your silence is enough of a response.

Atsumu gasps just as the microwave beeps, allowing you to ignore his stunned expression in order to begin preparing another bag of kernels.

“Give me one reason—”

“The blanket—”

“—that isn’t the blanket,” he says sourly. “That doesn’t count. I told you that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“Do you want a list? Because I have one.”

“Are you serious or are you just fucking with me?”

“Osamu and I have a Google Doc.”

Another gasp. You roll your eyes.

“Now you’re in kahoots with my brother? What’s next? Planning my downfall with Suna?”

“I’m sure he’s fine doing that himself without my help.”

He whines, stomping his foot when you only stare back in amusement. “Don’t be so unrepentant, Y/N!”

You dump the contents of the hot popcorn bags into a large bowl for everyone to share. “Unrepentant? Was that the word on your word-of-the-day calendar?”

“Shut up. You know only Kuroo has lame stuff like that,” Atsumu grumbles, throwing the last popcorn packet into the faulty brick of power you and Sakusa call a microwave. “I used it in my essay. Thesauruses are a godsend. It really came in handy when I was writing about the flower symbolism in the book. Y’know what’s even better, though? SparkNotes.”

You tilt your head, studying Atsumu with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh.”

“What d’you mean huh?”

“Nothing,” you say innocently. “I just didn’t think you’d choose that essay topic, that’s all.”

“It was the easiest one,” he states. You hum in agreement, but he can sense you falling into a state of pondering before it even happens, so he lightly pokes your shoulder in hopes it’ll be enough to keep you from drifting too far from his reach. “Why, what did you think I picked?”

He can tell you’re debating what to tell him, letting a few seconds pass before you give in. “I thought you’d do the one that centred more around…” you trail off, clenching and unclenching your jaw, “the love aspect of it all.”

He blinks. “Why?”

Childishly, you retort, “Why not?”

Atsumu licks his lips. “Well, you’re always telling me to write what I know. And I may not know a whole lot about flowers, but I know more about those than, y’know, love.”

Something passes over your face, the same thing he saw when Sakusa said something — implied something — in the living room. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had relationships, sure, but none that made me feel anything like— like that.”

You drum your fingers against the bowl. “None at all?”

“None at all.”

You click your tongue and stare at the microwave. Its buzz has become more prominent in your silence, a mocking hum hanging over the air as you contemplate and Atsumu stares, waiting impatiently for a word to slip past your lips.

But there’s nothing. Instead, the microwave beeps again, indicating that the last of the popcorn is ready.

“That’s good to know,” you say lightly. At least, that’s what you attempt, but you sound different, like a parasite has found solace in your vocal cords and fiddled with everything Atsumu’s familiar with.

“It is?”

“Yeah,” you nod, handing the bowl over to him. Popcorn threatens to spill but Atsumu can’t bring himself to care. “Hey, be careful. What, is it too heavy? Are you too weak to carry it?”

“It’s popcorn,” Atsumu rasps.

You eye him oddly, as if he’s the one whose behaviour should be examined under a microscope. “Don’t spill it everywhere. Sakusa’ll get pissed, and we’re already pushing it with this movie night thing.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” you agree. “But if you need me—”

“I know,” he interjects.

Simple promises are often uttered during private moments between you and Atsumu — an oath to be there for the other, to stand by their side no matter what. The words soothe him when they’re said aloud; he knows, underneath all the teasing and the bickering and the irritated eyerolls, is your pinky and his, intertwined.

And despite the voice in his head taunting him about a secret he’s unaware of, he allows the promise to enchant him.

I’ll be there for you.

“Do you need help?”

Atsumu grunts, adjusting your arm around his neck as he opens the car door. “No, I’m fine.”

“Thanks for picking them up,” Aran says, voice loud above the frat house’s music, “I know you were tired from practice, but—”

“It’s fine. I probably would’ve killed you if you didn’t call me, anyway.”

“Osamu said you’d say that.”

Atsumu expertly brushes off the statement, gently ushering you into the passenger’s seat and putting your seatbelt on with gentle fingers. Behind him, Aran watches the movements with thoughtful eyes and a quirk of his eyebrows.

“The last time they got this drunk was at the fall festival last year,” he muses. “For your sake, I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hm?”

“For your sake,” Atsumu echoes, turning to face Aran once the door’s been shut and he’s made sure you’re sleeping soundlessly with your head resting against the cold window. Atsumu stands pin-straight, his posture contrasting the way Aran stands opposite him, relaxed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “What’s that mean?”

Aran laughs, like he’s unsure if this is a serious question. “Well, I mean… they’re always asking for you whenever they get drunk like this.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s why you got here in record time, right?” Off Atsumu’s questioning gaze, Aran continues, “I called you five minutes ago, and your place is a fifteen-minute drive away. And you’re not in your pajamas, even though you said you’d change into them the moment you got home.”

“I was in the area,” Atsumu says weakly.

“Doing what?”

“Getting dinner.”

“Why didn’t you just get something delivered to your apartment?”

“Is it illegal to want to pick up the food myself?”

Aran raises his hands up in defence. “No, it’s not, but it’s also not illegal to say you knew this would happen,” he shrugs. “You knew they’d need you Atsumu, so you came. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Before Atsumu can force a response from his throat, Aran has already slipped back into the party, leaving Atsumu alone on the street. With an annoyed huff, he stomps to the driver’s side, muttering irked questions under his breath about what Aran could possibly mean. He opens the door with more aggression than necessary, only softening when he sees you stir underneath the jacket he’s draped over you to keep you warm.

He unlocks his phone when he feels a buzz in his pocket.

[00:30] Atsumu: are you still awake?

[00:48] Sakusa: Yes. Why?

Atsumu knows that your apartment’s farther from here than his, and he’s sure that by the time he arrives, Sakusa won’t answer the door because he’ll grow tired of Atsumu’s lack of response and go to bed.

The decision is made when he takes a right instead of a left, when he pulls into a parking lot that isn’t yours, when he carries your body up the stairwell and into his bed with ease.

Everything else comes as routine. He tucks the blanket under your chin, moves the glass of water so it’s too far for you to accidentally knock over in the morning, and leaves a change of clothes at the foot of the bed.

Atsumu likes routine. He likes the predictability of it all.

A groggy voice stops him from leaving the room.

“Tsumu?”

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching so he’s eye-level with you. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you back here.”

You blink sleepily at him, too inebriated and fatigued to acknowledge his words. “You’re a really good person, y’know,” you say languidly.

He smiles, amused. “Really?”

“Yeah. Thank you for picking me up.”

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

“It’s not.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without me. Omi could’ve picked you up, couldn’t he? Samu could’ve, too.”

“I know, but you’re the one who always does,” you respond, nuzzling further into the pillow. “You’ve—you’ve helped me a lot.”

You shakily reach a hand to his face, playing with the strands of hair that fall to his forehead. He relaxes, eyelids growing heavy at the feeling of your featherlike touch against his cool skin.

“You’ve brightened up my life, I think,” your voice is muffled, but it rings in Atsumu’s ears clear as day, almost as loud as his quickening heart rate. “I appreciate you a lot more than you know.”

ii. Power

He watches with bated breath as the ball cuts through the air while gravity begins to pull Hinata back to Earth. Everything unfolds in slow motion; everything has faded into white noise.

With a slam, the volleyball connects with the ground, and it’s only when he’s pulled into a hug does the reverie shatter. Like being hauled out from underwater, the roars of the crowd flood his ears as Bokuto begins jumping on the balls of his feet and Hinata comes rushing over to them with a triumphant shout.

On the other side of Bokuto, Sakusa smiles, rolling his eyes fondly when Hinata and Bokuto begin making post-game plans to celebrate their victory. Atsumu, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically silent as he searches the bleachers with a cloudy look in his eyes.

He’s snapped out of it once again when Bokuto tugs on his wrist so they can go and listen to what their coach has to say.

Atsumu isn’t a stranger to winning — he used to get drunk on this sort of stuff, the exhilarating rush that shot through his veins after every successful game. He basks in the crowd’s excitement and admiration, because to be fawned over is the closest to love he’s ever been (if he could even call it that), but once the adrenaline cuts him off and he’s left alone in the locker room, it all fizzles out.

Something’s missing at the end of all this. Usually, the void in his chest is insignificant enough for him to brush off. However, today is different.

It’s abnormal for the power of the win to dwindle into nothingness only minutes after the game ends, but the blue moon has risen tonight, and now everything feels weird. The cheers aren’t enough to keep him from searching the gymnasium for a familiar face, and he itches to get to his phone in the locker room when he can’t find who he’s looking for.

“Why do you look like we’ve lost?” Bokuto asks. “C’mon, man! Smile! We just won! Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am,” Atsumu grunts.

(But…)

But.

The adrenaline shoots through him again when a voice he knows all too well catches his attention over the noise.

“Hey!” you rush towards them, dishevelled. “Before you get mad, I know I missed the game, I took a nap and slept through it, fuck, I am never going to stay up late playing Fortnite with you again, Tsumu, you’ve ruined my sleep schedule, but—” you huff, trying to catch your breath as you hand Atsumu a bag, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come. Congrats on winning, I heard the shouts from down the street.”

Atsumu smiles and peers into the bag. “What is this?”

“Mochi,” you answer. “A celebratory gift for my favourite setter.”

“I’m the only setter you know.”

“Which is why you’re my favourite.”

Atsumu snorts but hugs the bag to his chest, like it’s his most prized possession and he’d drag it along to the grave with him. “Thank you.”

If someone were to ask Atsumu if he liked the pedestal he’s put on after a match, he’d say yes. Of course he does. He quite likes it on top of the world.

But you match his joyful smile with one of your own and Atsumu finds himself rethinking his answer. “Anytime.”

The top of the world may be nice, but it is nothing compared to being on the ground next to you.

“You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Would you relax?” Sakusa snarls. “You’re in charge of us for a day. Get your head out of your ass.”

On the floor, Hinata lays like a starfish as he stares up at the ceiling, cheeks tainted a bright pink hue. “I think power’s gotten to your head.”

Atsumu waves him off. “I think this is the best practice we’ve ever had.”

Their captain had to run out five minutes into practice — relationship problems is what he grumbled to Atsumu before leaving him in charge without a second thought, much to the rest of the team’s dismay.

“I hope you’re never put it in charge again,” Bokuto complains before downing the rest of his water.

“Don’t be dramatic—”

“Do you know how gruelling this practice must be for Hinata to be tired?”

“Give us a break,” Hinata pleads, shifting his position so he’s on his knees. “Please. I’ll buy you lunch for the rest of the month if you end our suffering.”

Atsumu pretends to ponder the offer and grows more amused as Hinata begins to twitch nervously. “Okay, fine,” he relents.

Hinata cries with glee, hugging Atsumu’s legs before pushing himself off the floor and rushing out of the gymnasium — whether it’s to refill his water bottle or hide until he’s found, Atsumu may never know. With a snort, Atsumu grabs his own bottle amongst the rest on the bench, promising Bokuto absentmindedly that he’ll go easy on them for the rest of the day.

“I want to have at least a little energy left for the party at Kuroo’s tonight,” Bokuto adds, his smile widening when Atsumu nods in agreement. “See, I knew you’d get it!”

Sakusa takes a seat on the bench. “Are you going to the party, Miya?”

“Yeah, Y/N’s forcing me to come with,” Atsumu says. “How about you?”

Bokuto answers for him. “I’m making him come!” he exclaims. “You’ll have so much fun, Omi, you don’t have to worry.”

Sakusa deadpans, “I’m only staying for five minutes.”

Bokuto waves off his iciness with a flippant hand. “I’ll convince you to stay longer.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Bokuto huffs. He turns away from Sakusa before he can continue to argue and focusses on Atsumu. “It’s good that you’re coming too, Tsum-Tsum! Maybe you can finally meet the guy Y/N’s going on a date with.”

Atsumu halts, hand tightening around his bottle. “What?”

“Some guy from their Psychology class asked them out a few days ago,” Bokuto says obliviously. “I think it was the night you picked them up? I don’t know. I think he was nice, though. Y/N probably already told you about it.”

You didn’t.

Atsumu forces a grin on his face. “Right, they did.”

Sakusa studies his expression with pinched eyebrows.

Atsumu’s cheeks hurt for the rest of practice, a consequence of the cheerful façade he’s plastered, but the pain subsides — if only for a moment — when he sees you outside the gymnasium, carrying your favourite boba drink in one hand, and his favourite in the other.

“Hey!” you greet, handing him the drink. “How was practice?”

“Awful,” Hinata mopes with a pout. “Your boyfriend here was running it like the navy.”

You frown. Atsumu blanches. “My boyfriend…?”

“Yeah!” Hinata slaps Atsumu on the back. “Him.”

All colour drains from your face. Your grip on your cup loosens for a split second before tightening it again in panic. You look from Hinata, the picture of innocence, to Atsumu, who only stares back, just as bewildered.

Hinata seems to take the hint as his eyes flicker between the two of you in confusion. “Sorry, I… I overheard Bokuto saying you were going on a date with someone, so I assumed—”

“Date?” you interrupt frantically, arms flapping to deny the words that have recklessly tumbled from Hinata’s mouth. “With who— with Atsumu? He’s not— we’re not— I’m not— we’re—”

“We’re friends,” Atsumu finishes, saving you from your stammering. You look at him gratefully, and he can only offer a weak smile in return. “I don’t know why you’d think we’re dating, Shoyo.”

“Sorry—”

“They’re going on a date with someone else.”

You narrow your eyes. “What do you—?”

“Oh, hey,” Sakusa says as he walks out of the doors. He tugs on the string of his mask to make sure it’s secure before nodding at you. “Did you stop by the grocery store yet?”

Atsumu’s words are long forgotten when realization engulfs your figure at the speed of light. “Oh, no! I took a nap and—”

“You really need to fix your sleep schedule.”

“I’ll have you know I slept four hours last night.”

“…That’s not a good thing.”

“It’s an hour more than usual.”

The genuine concern is evident in Sakusa’s eyes before he rubs his temples with a sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s go to the store before we head home, I need to buy more protein powder.”

“Ay, ay, captain.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You snicker then turn to Atsumu with a smile he’d move mountains for. “I’ll see you later, Tsumu?”

“Yeah, sure,” he murmurs. “Don’t take too long to get ready.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you say, patting his cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to drive me there and back.”

He finds himself involuntarily leaning into your touch. “Don’t mention it.”

Your touch lingers for a second too long before you salute him in goodbye and rush to follow Sakusa to your car. Atsumu watches as your figure gets smaller and smaller, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder and stick your tongue out when you catch him staring.

He flips you off and makes sure to stick his tongue out, too, in hopes that it’ll make you laugh loud enough for him to hear.

(He doesn’t notice the mischievous glint in Sakusa’s eyes, nor does he catch his name slipping past Sakusa’s lips).

(But he does notice you tilt your head, lost in thought, before you look at him again, attempting to figure him out despite the distance.

He thinks nothing of it).

Just after his 9am lecture, someone asks Atsumu out on a date.

She’s nice and easy on the eyes; a little timid, but he supposes that���s just the affect he has on people. Big man on campus is what he’s always referred to as, until they realize that he’s nothing if not a goofball off-court. Still, the girl — Miwa is what she said her name was — doesn’t know that yet, so Atsumu gives her the benefit of the doubt.

And he says yes.

At 11:00, the whole team has caught wind of his evening plans, and Sakusa texts him to tell him he’s an idiot. Atsumu frowns, asks why, but Sakusa doesn’t reply.

At 6:00, an hour before his date, he shows up on your doorstep with a bag of clothes and a tie loose around his neck. His left pant leg is tucked into his sock and the other is haphazardly cuffed; his hair is all over the place, sticking up at the back as the result of a hair-gel disaster.

You stare at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you need?”

“I’ve got a date,” he explains frantically. “I need your help.”

You hesitantly let him in.

At 6:15 is when the argument occurs. The reason why is something Atsumu can’t recall, only that it was something so small and insignificant that the argument shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. He thinks you may have been in a bad mood before he even arrived, but that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t talked to him in the past five hours.

Oh, right. And the power goes out at 6:45.

He texts Miwa to cancel, promising to reschedule on a day where they won’t be talking to each other in the dark, but his phone dies before he gets a response. With a shrug, he tosses it onto the coffee table and makes a mental note to charge it as soon as the power comes back on, knowing full well that he’ll forget the reminder the second he makes it.

He should feel more guilty about the fact that he cares more about your absence than his postponed date.

Atsumu stares at your door for far too long before deciding that he’ll apologize to you — for what, he doesn’t know, but apologize first, ask questions later is his motto — once you’ve left your room. He’ll grovel and get on his knees and even humiliate himself if he has to, as long as it gets you to talk to him again, because God knows he’ll never survive this outage by himself.

(Also, you’re his best friend, and — Atsumu has never told anybody this — the last time you gave him the silent treatment, his chest physically hurt from not speaking to you that he vowed to never anger you again).

It’s 11:35, and you still haven’t left your room.

For the past few hours, you’ve been watching Netflix without headphones to torture a bored Atsumu, but the noises stopped about ten minutes ago, meaning your phone must’ve died too, so it’s only a matter of time before you leave your room in hopes of finding something to do.

Atsumu’s almost giddy at the thought.

At 11:50, he makes his move.

He hears the creaking of your door and your socked feet softly padding in the hallway. Atsumu’s always tried going to sleep early so he can hit the gym before it gets too busy the next morning, so you must’ve waited the latest you could bear with the assumption that he had fallen asleep on the couch.

Atsumu tiptoes to the end of the hallway, teeth bright compared to the darkness of the apartment, and his grin only widens when you finally see him.

You blink before scoffing, brushing past him to enter the kitchenette.

“Y/N,” he says, attempting to be stern but it comes off as a whine in his desperation. “Look at me.” You spare him a glance. Atsumu deems that’s good enough. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

He watches you open a cupboard and fill your glass with water. The seconds that pass by are agonizingly slow and Atsumu shifts uncomfortably when the silence drags on.

Finally, you look at him, unamused, and say, “What exactly are you sorry for?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Uh…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to make your way back to your room.

“Wait! Wait,” Atsumu shouts, rushing over to block the exit. His eyes dart all over the kitchen in hopes the walls will have the answer to your question. You tap your foot impatiently, and it’s only when you go to open your mouth to tell him to move that he blurts out, “I’m sorry for eating the rest of your chocolate cake.”

You look at him incredulously. “That was you?”

“Yeah, I— wait, you’re not mad about that?”

“I am now!” you huff, using an arm to try and shove him out of the way, but he catches your wrist.

“Then I don’t get it!” he groans. “What did I do?”

You give him a once-over. “Well, what didn’t you do?”

“This is about the outfit?”

“You’ve cuffed your slacks, Tsumu. They’re cuffed. No sane person cuffs their slacks.”

He struggles to wrap his head around your response. “You’re mad,” he repeats, then gestures to his outfit confusedly, “about what I’m wearing.”

You seem to realize just how ridiculous it sounds uttered out loud, because you pout. “Not just that.”

“Then what else?”

You stumble over your words before you coherently state, “You’re going on a date.”

He frowns. “Yes.”

“You’re going on a date,” you say again when it’s obvious he’s not catching on to what you mean. When all Atsumu can manage is a perplexed sound, you add frustratedly, “You’re going on a date, which I don’t understand, since Sakusa told me that I didn’t need to worry anymore, but I guess he’s wrong because you came here asking for my help with looking nice on your night out with Miwa and—”

“Wait,” Atsumu interrupts, still puzzled. “What did Sakusa tell you?”

“He told me not to worry.”

“Worry about what?”

That snaps you out of it.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. Then, you cross your arms over your chest, muttering out a response with feigned nonchalance, “Whatever.”

Atsumu protests, “Hey, I—”

“Where were you even going to take her?” you swiftly change the subject, and Atsumu decides that he’ll let it go — that’s what he’s been doing for a while, anyway, and another day really couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Dancing,” he says.

“Dancing?”

“Yes,” he responds, relaxing at the sight of your amusement. “I searched up unique date ideas and Google told me to take her dancing.”

“You should’ve just taken her to dinner,” you say. “Because you can’t dance.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“You were born with two left feet.”

“Quit lying, you’re only saying that because you’re mad at me.”

“I’m only telling you the truth!”

“I’m a good dancer!”

“You really aren’t. I thought that was established two weeks ago when we were playing Just Dance and you knocked over Aran’s vase.”

“That says nothing about my ability to—”

“Yes, it does.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

“I’m serious,” he says, stretching his hand out for you to take.

You look at his palm and back up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Not in any way, shape, or form.”

“We don’t even have music—”

“I’ll sing,” he shakes his hand. “C’mon, hurry up, my arm’s getting tired.”

Without a second thought, you interlace your fingers with his as he whisks you around the kitchen, his laugh loud when you yelp at his fast movements. He places his other hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping on the tile as he leans to whisper into your ear.

“Any song requests?”

“None. You’re an awful singer,” you retort, bristling at the warmth of his breath.

“So, what are you saying? You’d rather waltz in silence?”

“Yes. And I wouldn’t even call this waltzing. We’re just sliding around the kitchen.”

“We’re waltzing,” Atsumu says firmly, daring you to argue. You only sigh, letting him pull you closer as you two clumsily move around the room. He sings your favourite song despite your insistence for him not to, humming the parts he doesn’t know and doing his best to hit every note.

You laugh into his chest, and he makes sure the sound is trapped in his ribcage so he’ll never have to go a day without it.

When the song reaches its end, you place your head on his shoulder, your breath piercing through his blazer and skin. “I’m sorry that I got mad at you,” you whisper despite the quiet, as if making your voice any louder will shatter the atmosphere. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“It’s not, but thanks for trying to make me feel better,” you say timidly. “I guess I just got my hopes up.”

Atsumu tries to get the information out of you again, the very thing that’s been bothering you — and, as a result, him — for weeks. “About what?”

Your fingers tighten around his. “Nothing,” you answer, and if you notice just how much his posture deflates then you say nothing of it. “Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want.”

iii. Love

“You’re gonna get it in my eye!”

“Then stay still!”

“Just promise not to poke me.”

“I’ve already promised five times.”

“Then promise again!”

“Tsumu—” you sigh, slumping your shoulders as you meet his defiant gaze. “I promise I won’t get anything into your eyes or your mouth or your nostrils. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes. “For some reason that doesn’t make me feel much better.”

You groan. “We’ve been over this millions of times—”

“Sue me for thinking you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you—”

“Sakusa got into my head,” he explains for the umpteenth time that evening, “he keeps on saying I’ve done something wrong, but he won’t tell me what, and he keeps looking at me as if I’ve committed a felony. His face keeps me up at night, it’s the reason why I’ve had so many nightmares recently—”

“Sakusa’s being a nuisance. Trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you assure, your voice echoing off the walls of your tiny bathroom. “You have nothing to worry about, so stop acting like I’m trying to kill you with this face mask.”

He stares pointedly at the tub sitting next to you on the sink. “It’s scarily green,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Like, it’s Hulk-green. Nothing should be that green.”

“If you’re implying it’s poisonous, it’s not.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble, spreading the mask across his cheeks, ignoring his murmured whines about how cold it feels on his skin. “You weren’t acting like this last time.”

“You were using a different face mask last time,” he rebuts. “I liked the other one better than this one.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go to the store,” you hum. “Maybe I’ll even take you with me, so you can choose the face mask. It’ll save me from your complaining in the future.”

“You love my complaining,” he replies quickly. “But I really should. I’d make your grocery trips so much more fun.”

“You’d get us kick out.”

“Would not!” Atsumu scoffs when you don’t even bother to hide your unconvinced mien and places his hands on either side of the marble countertop, trapping you against him and the sink. “I’ll prove it this weekend.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going this weekend. The fall festival is on Saturday, remember? I’m holding off spending money this week so I can buy a ton of cotton candy without feeling guilty.”

“Really?” he snorts. “You’re not gonna get wasted this year?”

“Definitely not. Last year was a nightmare.”

“You don’t even remember what happened.”

“Exactly,” you say, smoothing out the mask. “And you’re always taking care of me when I’m drunk, it makes me feel bad.”

Despite his proximity, you don’t seem to feel the intensity of his stare. His demeanour has softened in the past five minutes, smiling warmly at the pinch between your brows and the way your lips have twisted into a focussed frown.

This has happened countless times before — on all the other self-care nights, Atsumu finds himself in the four walls of your bathroom, free to admire you all he wants without the company of his friends and their teasing remarks. Though he’d never admit it, he prefers the quiet, because here, the both of you aren’t brushing off comments made about your relationship; here, it’s just you and him, pressed against the bathroom sink, worries left behind on the other side of the door.

Here, it’s so peaceful that Atsumu believes, for a few short moments, that everything will be okay.

“Don’t feel bad,” he says breathily, dreading the moment when you finish and he’s forced to pull away. “I like taking care of you.”

“You’re required to do it because we’re friends.”

“No, I like doing it,” he says again, ingraining the statement into your brain so it’ll stay there forever. “You don’t see me letting Bokuto or Hinata — hell, even Suna, stay over at my apartment and sleep in my bed.”

You pause your movements, eyes flickering to his. “What does that make me then?”

“Huh?”

“Bokuto, Hinata, and Suna are your friends, but you don’t pick them up from parties and let them say the night at your place.”

“Well, that’s cause I can’t be bothered most of the time, since they’re usually going to on-campus parties and my place is so far from—”

“But you picked me up a few nights ago,” you interrupt, and Atsumu is drawn to the determination in your irises more than he wants to admit. “And a couple weeks ago too, I think. You’ve been picking me up before I even moved in with Sakusa, and my old place was thirty minutes away.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“What am I to you, Atsumu?”

He grips the countertop so tightly his knuckles are as white as the marble. His heart drums against his ribcage, so loud in the cavity of his chest that he wonders if you can hear it too.

“You’re my friend.”

“Like Bokuto? Or Hinata, or Su—?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffs. Comparing yourself to them is absurd. “It’s diff— you’re different.”

“Different how?”

Suddenly, everything feels stuffy. Tension floods the room until he’s neck-deep in it and drowning, all while you stare up at him, awaiting an answer.

“I—”

Someone knocks loudly on the door.

“Hey!” Bokuto. “Is someone in here?”

You don’t answer. The ball is in Atsumu’s court.

There’s an answer that lingers in his mind, one that he wants to give you despite the risk that it could destroy everything he’s ever known. But as his hesitation grows, the ring buoy that is Bokuto’s voice becomes more tempting — something to save him from this situation where he’s flailing in hope and what-ifs. Something to save him from your want and his dread and all the other sharp objects that could slice your friendship in two.

(Aren’t you the one who’s always saying he should be more responsible?

Doing this is the most responsible thing he could do, isn’t it?)

“We’ll be right out,” he responds, and just as he replies, you pull away from him in defeat.

Everything in his body tightens.

You turn to wash your hands. Through the mirror, he can see you blink rapidly and clench your jaw.

When he finally goes to exit, Bokuto stands impatiently on the other side. His eyebrows rise when he spots the hairband keeping Atsumu’s blond strands out of his face.

“That’s cute,” Bokuto coos, poking at the heart that sticks out from the material.

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, adjusting the band and letting his fingers brush against the plush heart. “It’s Y/N’s.”

The sun had set a long time ago.

In its absence is the moon, its light barely sufficient to lead you and Atsumu home — home being his apartment, but you’ve been there so much it might as well be your own. It’s alright, though, he thinks; your arm is interlinked with his, and that’s all he’ll ever need to guide him.

Your hips bump his as you both walk down the sidewalk, the air a melody of your laughs as he retells a childhood story about him and Osamu. You fail to refrain the teasing comments that fall from your lips about how he’s always been a troublemaker, long before you ever met him.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he’d said a couple minutes ago. “Since I’m your favourite and everything.”

You smile, and every time you do so, the more he believes that the bathroom incident has been forgotten.

But Atsumu’s not stupid. He senses your discomfort — it’s miniscule, but it’s there, and deep down he knows it’s all because of what happened last night.

Every Tuesday, you wait for his evening lecture to finish before you both walk back to his place to watch a movie. Some nights you leave before the clock strikes ten, most nights you stay over. It’s a routine that’s been implemented since he first met you, and never once has it ever felt tense.

Atsumu itches to fix it.

“Hey,” he pipes up, hoping to avoid any uncomfortable lulls in conversation. “You never told me how your date went.”

“My date?”

“Yeah. Bokuto says some guy from your Psychology class asked you out.”

“What?”

“At the party.”

You crinkle your nose in thought before a light bulb goes off in your head. “Are you talking about Kuroo?”

Atsumu’s eyes may as well bulge out of the sockets with how much they’ve widened. “Kuroo asked you out?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Well, yes. But he didn’t mean it. He only did it to get someone to stop bothering him.”

Atsumu frowns. “Then why did Bokuto say—?”

“Bokuto was drunk,” you snicker. “Plus, you know how much of a lightweight he is, and Hinata just kept on giving him drinks, so you can imagine how that went.”

“Not good, probably.”

“Nope,” you say. “Just imagine everything that could’ve gone wrong then double it.”

“Did he puke on Akaashi?”

“Yeah, and on Kuroo too.”

“See, that’s why I never let him stay the night.”

Your smile wavers and he pinches himself for saying anything in the first place.

“That’s probably the only good idea you’ve ever had,” you eventually say, but your voice is weaker than you intend it to be.

Atsumu can’t find the energy to argue.

He allows himself to be pulled down the street, your footsteps hasty compared to how he tries to drag his feet along the cement. Atsumu assumes you want to get this night over with, to spend only an hour — maybe two — with him before bidding goodbye, and the thought causes an ugly feeling to root itself into the pit of his stomach.

The wind whistles in warning. He should’ve expected something like this.

All good things come to an end is something he’s heard far too many times to count, but Atsumu is nothing if not an optimist, and even so, he never thought a saying such as that could ever apply to his friendship with you. Despite the hardships, the two of you have always pulled through.

But the clouds begin to drift over the moon, hindering its light, and his stomach churns at what’s to come.

Your voice, disguised as a remedy to soothe his unease, carries him forward. “Listen, I think I’ll head home after the movie.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight, y’know?”

“You can sleep in mine,” he suggests, his tone bordering on a plea. You always sleep in mine. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“It’s okay, Tsumu,” you reply. “You’re probably tired of seeing me all the time, anyway.”

“I’m not,” he insists.

You give him a tight smile in response.

Atsumu’s always believed he was good with words. His voice has failed him before, sure, and it’s not like it’s a secret that sometimes his carelessness lands him in undesirable situations, but he’s usually so quick on his feet. He knows what to say, and if he doesn’t, he can crank up the charm until everyone in the vicinity begins to suffocate on his charisma.

Miya Atsumu is rarely ever speechless.

But then you started acting different, and suddenly he couldn’t decipher your expressions or predict your every move. You would dance with him in the kitchen and tenderly apply skincare products on his face, but no matter how much he pulled you close, you would drift further away. You’d open up before brushing everything off as if he had nothing to worry about.

It's like you haven’t been paying attention at all. If it involved you, Atsumu would always worry.

The question slips out of his mouth too quickly for him to control. “Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“What?”

He stops walking, and as a result, so do you. “Something’s been bothering you,” he says hoarsely. “And I was waiting it out because I thought you’d tell me, but… I feel like you never will.”

You lick your lips — to stall, he thinks, but doing so only spares you a second. “Do you have any guesses?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you sigh. “You must have some idea.”

(And, perhaps, maybe a small part of him does. You’re his best friend, and he is yours, and you each earned that title by knowing the other like the moon knows the stars, like the stars know the sky, like the sky knows the sun.

He knows, you know he does. But this is irresponsible. It threatens everything).

“I don’t,” he lies.

“Atsumu,” you exhale, as if he’s entangled in your system, “do you really need me to say it?”

He doesn’t answer. You continue, anyway.

Three words are whispered into the dead of night, and the world tilts on its axis.

This was never part of the routine.

“Maybe I should just go home,” you murmur when he doesn’t speak. His fingers twitch, screaming at him to reach out for you as soon as you pull away. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Y/N—”

“Just let me go,” you say — you beg. “Please.”

His body screams, his nerves flare, but the messenger between his spinal cord and his brain fails to relay the message that he should do everything in his power to prevent you from leaving.

“Okay,” he responds. His voice sounds like it hasn’t been in use for years, tainted with defeat.

You turn to leave, and for the first time since you’ve met him, Atsumu doesn’t follow.

Atsumu’s moody, he has been for a while, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to realize it’s because of you.

Or, more specifically, the absence of you.

You’ve been spending more time by yourself than you have been with anyone else, cooped up in the safety of your bedroom and listening to — according to Sakusa — music that ranges from soft, heartbroken ballads, to hardcore fuck-you anthems. The lack of your presence is strange; you’ve always been a constant in Atsumu’s life, and to live without it leaves a lingering emptiness in his chest.

He'll catch glimpses of you sometimes on campus, and he feels, what he assumes to be, the same emotion people feel when they claim they’ve spotted Bigfoot.

For a moment, everything feels a little more bearable.

But then you disappear, leaving sorrow in your wake, and reality washes over him like an ice-cold bucket of water.

His moping is how he ends up tagging along with Bokuto and Hinata at the fall festival, trailing after them like an upset puppy while they frolic down the streets, gawking at all the stands and taste-testing every snack they come across. The plan was to have them cheer him up, to make him smile even if it’s only for a second, because when Atsumu is upset, it becomes everyone else’s problem.

Hinata offers him some funnel cake and Atsumu absentmindedly murmurs about how it’s your favourite. They all buy friendship bracelets and Atsumu buys one for you too because he knows how much you’d want one. They all clamber onto the carousel and Atsumu wonders if you’d fall off if you rode the horse.

Bokuto and Hinata get tired of it all eventually.

“He’s hopeless,” Bokuto cries when they reunite with Suna and Osamu. “He won’t stop whining.”

Atsumu opts for standing on his toes to look over the crowd in hopes of finding you instead of replying to his friend. His eyes drift first to the ring toss, then to the man selling cotton candy, then to the spinning teacups.

Nothing.

Osamu says something that finally catches his brother’s attention. “Well, Y/N’s not coming,” he waves his phone in the air, which is open on his message thread with you. “Said they were busy.”

Hinata huffs. “They’re only saying that cause Tsumu’s here.”

Bokuto slaps his arm. “Shoyo!”

“What? It’s true!” he exclaims defensively. “You know how they’re always on top of their assignments, I doubt they’re doing anything but watching TV and—”

“Yeah, but still, don’t say that! Isn’t Tsum-Tsum heartbroken enough?”

“I am not heartbroken,” Atsumu snarls.

Suna gives him a look. “Well…”

“I’m not!” he flails, frantically gesturing to himself to show that he’s perfectly fine. “I mean, yeah, am I a little upset? Yes. But heartbroken? You guys are just saying anything at this point, like—”

Osamu interrupts him before he can continue rambling and digging himself into a bigger hole. “What did you even do, anyway?”

The Miya twins are notorious on campus for their bickering, but Atsumu thought that in this situation, at least his own brother would be on his side. “What makes you think this is all my fault?”

Osamu raises an eyebrow, mocking and patronizing. “Well, for one—”

“If anything,” Atsumu continues, hurriedly cutting him off, “I should be the one avoiding them. Not that I’d want to, I’d never want to, obviously, but if we were getting technical then they should be the one worrying about me and not the other way around.”

Hinata speaks, mouth full of the last of his funnel cake. “Who says they don’t worry about you?”

“I— wait, what?”

“They’re always asking me and Shoyo about how you’re doing,” Bokuto chirps. “How screwed up could things be that you won’t talk to each other?”

Atsumu inhales, and he feels the world begin to collapse into him. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think, unsure if it’s fair of him to reach for his phone and hope you’ll answer his calls. He knows why the two of you have found yourselves here, standing on opposite sides of a field of regret and hurt. He knows, that in his attempt to dodge change, he blew something up in the process.

Suna tilts his head in question. “Atsumu. What happened?”

Atsumu exhales. “They told me that—” the words lodge themselves in his throat, unwilling to leave.

But they all understand.

“Huh,” Suna hums. “Didn’t think they had it in them.”

“What did you reply with?” Osamu asks.

Atsumu prepares himself for their rage. “Nothing.”

He’s met with silence. Then, incredulously, Suna asks, “Are you stupid?”

Osamu answers for him. “Chronically so.”

Atsumu doesn’t have the heart to respond to the jab, and the severity of the situation significantly increases.

Hinata bites the inside of his cheek in thought. “I think he’s broken.”

Bokuto leans forward to study Atsumu’s expression as much as he can before the latter waves him off. With a frown, Bokuto steps back and looks around the grounds, hoping to find something that’ll cheer Atsumu up and make tonight not a complete bust.

A tent, flashy and sparkly and enchanting, lures him in.

Osamu looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can utter a word, Bokuto tugs on Atsumu’s sleeve and drags him to the tent, ignoring his protests. “I have an idea,” he says reassuringly, but it does nothing to calm his friend. “Trust me on this.”

Atsumu snatches his arm back and rubs it as if Bokuto’s harmed him. He cranes his neck around to look at the sign just outside the tent, and scowls at the pink and yellow doodles on the chalkboard.

“This is a psychic.”

Bokuto nods vigorously. “Yes.”

“Your idea of cheering me up is having me scammed?”

Bokuto pouts. “You love stuff like this.”

He’s not wrong. If it were any other day, this place would be Atsumu’s first stop. He’d be the one begging people to join him despite the fact that he knows the consequences involve a dent in his bank account, but today, predictions of his future are the last thing on his mind. Today, convincing people to get their fortune read is the least of his desires, because you aren’t trying to convince people with him.

There’s no point being here without you.

Atsumu moves to get out of line.

“Hey, dude,” Bokuto whines and holds onto his arm to keep him in place. “Just give it a try. It can’t hurt, can it?”

“Boku—”

“It’ll be fun!” he says cheerily. “Maybe it’ll give you some insight on how to apologize to Y/N.”

Atsumu wants nothing more than to move — to leave — but Bokuto mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes long before he could talk, and the moment he flashes them Atsumu realizes he has no other choice but to stay.

When he steps into the tent, the atmosphere changes.

He tugs on the sleeves of his windbreaker when the autumn air threatens to pierce his skin, and reluctantly sits down on the chair across from the psychic. She eyes his every move, trying to figure out what type of customer he might be — someone who’s just doing this for fun, or someone who’s going through a rough patch, or someone who needs a stranger to light the path they need to walk down.

Atsumu fidgets in his seat.

“You’re here for a reading?”

A shrug and feigned indifference are what she receives as an answer. “Sure.”

His mask of nonchalance begins to slip when the reading starts, growing restless as he checks the time on his watch and calculating the probability of you still being awake. He glances over his shoulder, praying to whichever deity who’ll listen that Bokuto will come in and drag him out once he’s realized that this is the last thing Atsumu wants.

You are not here, and his body stings whenever the reminder worms its way into his mind.

His uneasiness must amuse the psychic, because when he finally looks back at her, she’s grinning, knotting his stomach in worry.

She asks him a dreadful question, made of nuts and bolts and things that rub salt in the wound of his heart.

What is it that you desire most, boy?

Atsumu freezes, plastering a confused smile on his face. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m sure you know. Is it strength?”

Definitely not, Atsumu wants to say. He’s more than capable enough to lift heavy boxes, he doesn’t have to take multiple trips to move things from point A to point B, he doesn’t struggle carrying his friends’ slump and inebriated bodies into a bed.

Atsumu is strong. He’s proved it during his frequent trips to the gym and by winning arm-wrestling contests. He wears the trait like a badge of honour, a reminder.

He does not need any more physical strength.

He checks his watch and wonders if you’ve brushed your teeth and dragged yourself to bed.

The psychic pushes. “Power?”

Atsumu briefly shakes his head, a movement so miniscule it’s a surprise the woman catches it.

It used to be such a thrill, the popularity that came with his volleyball reign. He used to ride that horse and sit in that throne with pride, he let the excitement course through him and, for a while, let himself believe the squeals that came with victory was interchangeable with love.

But power does not compare. He was foolish to believe nothing could beat the rush that came with the admiration — the shouts of his name in the bleachers, the ever-growing follower count, the people confessing their infatuation whenever they caught him alone.

They do not know who he is underneath the volleyball uniform. They don’t know that he likes to go to the diner after games and order a strawberry milkshake, or that his bottom drawer is filled to the brim with spare clothes for you, or that his favourite nights are spent with you applying a face mask to his skin.

They will never know him as much as you do.

The psychic leans forward. “Love?”

Atsumu clenches his jaw. Yes, would be the short answer, but to say that without an explanation would mean to lie, and he’s never been a good liar. Because Atsumu’s always been loved — not by the crowds or the student body — but by his friends, his family, you.

You gave your heart to him, and he noticed too late that the bleeding organ resided in the palm of his hand, cracked and yearning and brave. And after he realized this, he selfishly craved for more, even though he knew it scared him. He has been in relationships before, but none of them crossed the threshold of what truly mattered — the intimate conversations, the dances in the kitchen at midnight, the confessions murmured under the duvet.

So, perhaps, yes, Atsumu desires love, but the one thing he supposes he wants more is courage.

The psychic smiles. “Ah. Bingo. So—”

“Miya.”

Atsumu whips his head around to find Sakusa standing at the entrance, skillfully ignoring the protests behind him to get in line and wait his turn. Sakusa raises an eyebrow at the situation Atsumu’s found himself in, but saves him from his judgement to state, “Bokuto told me you were in here.”

“Excuse me,” the woman chirps. “We’re in the middle of something.”

“If you think a scam is what’ll solve your problems, then you’re stupider than I thought,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu sighs. “You came here just to tell me that?”

“Well, yeah,” Sakusa shrugs. “There’s a simpler solution to all of this.”

“Okay, well—”

“Talk to them,” Sakusa interrupts, exhausted. “Before they give up.”

Atsumu kisses his teeth, changing his position in his chair so he’s fully facing Sakusa. “Since when were you the type to give advice?”

Sakusa ignores his retort with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.

“I have never seen you cower before, Miya,” Sakusa says, and the words are like needles on his skin. “Don’t let the first time you do so be now.”

Atsumu inhales shakily. “I don’t—”

“They got Hinge a few days ago,” Sakusa deadpans. Atsumu stiffens. “Don’t lose to some hack they found on a dating app.”

Atsumu looks from his friend to the clairvoyant before flashing her a sheepish smile and shooting clumsily out of his chair. The words that tumble from his mouth are barely coherent, and the last thing he hears before he exits the tent is Sakusa mumbling moron under his breath.

The journey from the festival to your apartment is a blur. He vaguely recalls running past his friends and returning their questioning shouts with a wave of his hand and getting angry at least two cars who cut him on the road, before he ends up in front of your door, nose tinged red from the cold.

His knocks are insistent.

“I’m coming, God, be patient,” he hears you say before you open the door to see him, and your annoyance is wiped away in seconds.

“Hi,” he says, out of breath from running up three flights of stairs after he got impatient waiting for the elevator. His eyes land on the blanket you’ve wrapped over your shoulders, and his lips quirk up at the familiar pattern. “Didn’t I get you that?”

You tug on the material defensively. “What are you doing here?” you ask. “And what the hell are you wearing? Did you not look at the weather before you left the house? It’s freezing outside, you idiot, you should be wearing a thicker jacket. And your face is so red! And your hands! They’re gonna get all dry if you don’t wear gloves! How many times do I have to tell you to dress for the weather otherwise you’ll get sick and…”

Atsumu rasps, “And?”

You gulp, taking a step back to distance yourself. “And you shouldn’t be here,” you say, sending a knife to his chest. “I thought you were at the festival.”

“That’s why you didn’t come,” he concludes. “Because I was there.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do?” you snap. “I told you I loved you and you looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you bark. “My point still stands. You shouldn’t be here.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Then why are you?”

Eight letters are whispered into the darkness of the entryway, and the world is thrown off-balance.

“I love you,” he says, surprising himself with just how easy the words escape after he lets them, “and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your lips part in surprise. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats. “And I should’ve told you sooner, but I— I was scared—”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Love conquers all, I guess. My fear included.”

“You came all the way here to tell me that?”

He risks a step towards you and his heart flutters when you don’t move away. “I ran out of a psychic’s tent, too.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he murmurs. “That’s not important right now.”

“It sounds pretty important, I mean, you mentioned it and everything.”

“It’s not.”

“What exactly is more important than that?”

“Your forgiveness, actually.”

You huff. “Believe it or not, forgiveness doesn’t come so easily, Atsumu.”

“Can I kiss you, then?” he questions innocently, placing a hand against your cheek. “Will you take that as an apology?”

You still, licking your lips as you try to maintain your defiant stance. “…That won’t work every time you make me mad, you know.”

He tries his best not to smirk. “Is that a yes?”

“I hate you.”

He lets his lips hover over yours, and he’s not sure if the loud heartbeat ringing in his ears is his or yours (or maybe a mixture of both). “Is that yes?” he asks again, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort.

Your eyes flicker to his mouth and then you mumble, “Yes.”

Atsumu pinches himself before capturing his lips with yours, eager and desperate, to kiss you with enough pent-up want and need to cause you to stumble. He’s gentle in the way he cradles your face, as if the world has found itself in his hands, still beautiful despite how much he’s hurt it.

He’ll make up for hurting you later, but for now he’ll allow himself to be selfish.

I love you, he whispers into your mouth, and you capture the confession with your own and let it live in your beating heart.

I love you, he whispers into your neck as you both stumble into the kitchen, making sure to tattoo the words into your skin so you’ll never forget.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time as the blanket covers you both and he’s sure you’ve lulled to sleep with your ear against his chest and his thumb drawing hearts on your shoulder, “so, so much.”

Slumber takes over you both, blanketing your smiling figures with hope and love.

© fushisagi, 2023. do not translate or plagiarize my works.

[midnightwriter21]

Sanemi, Shinobu and Obanai x Giyuu little sister reader. Reader 20 and 1 year younger than Giyuu and is the Polar opposite of Jim like she very playful and curious but also very loving to him and he spoils her. She a civilian who owns a tea shop. May I have headcanons with her and those three and Giyuu reaction to each please?

demon slayer hcs: sanemi & shinobu x giyuu's little sister!reader

characters: sanemi, shinobu, giyuu

warnings: mentions of birth control in shinobu's (idek if that needs a warning lol)

AN: pumped this out at 3am lol, ill be doing obanai in another part!

SANEMI

your relationship was such a slow burn lol

when he finds out ur giyuu's sister its an immediate disliking on Sanemi's part

but are we rly surprised?

dude HATES giyuu

you spend a lot of time with the hashira

and you've become good friends with them so you're always around when the hashira are all together

they all adore u

you're sweet, funny, outgoing, confident

basically everything that giyuu isn't lollll

you brought snacks from ur teashop to one of the lil hashira hangouts

and you couldn't help but notice sanemi absolutely stuffing his face full of the ohagi that you brought

but who can blame him?

he might not like you but he never said you were a bad cook

and ohagi is his favorite

a couple days after the lil hangout

sanemi gets back to his estate after a mission and finds a cute lil basket adorned with a bow sitting on his doorstep

he picks it up and looks inside and its full of ohagi

after he goes inside and devours the whole basket

he finds a note at the bottom saying "enjoy <3" signed with your name

thats it right there.

the way to this mans heart is thru his stomach fr

now

when yall are dating dating

you keep it quiet

none of the other hashira know

and giyuu CERTAINLY doesn't know

until one day you're working at your tea shop and sanemi walks in to pick up the lunch that you made him

now me personally... id turn into a professional cook for this man

5 COURSE MEAL FOR EVERY MEAL

anyways

its not a busy day at the shop so he walks into the kitchen to find you cooking

and this man is HANDSY

so ofc he grabs you by your waist and pulls u into him

and starts feeling you up good lord please i want this so bad

you hear the faint 'ding!' of the bell above the front door

but pay it no mind assuming its a customer

and then the kitchen door opens

and everyone freezes

cause standing in the doorway is your older brother

thats the most expressive face sanemi has ever seen on giyuu

dudes eyes are wide as saucers

mouth wide open

shook af

like "dawg don't you hate me and everyone that associates with me?"

like "you have basically cursed my entire bloodline"

"you told me to off myself because im me"

and sanemi is just "i hate you not you're sister"

and goes back to feeling u up totally ignoring giyuu's presence

giyuu basically just moonwalks back out the door

and pretends he never saw any of that

lol i love them XD

SHINOBU

now shinobu liked you from the second she met you

she went to giyuu's estate to get him for a mission

and walks in to find you teasing and mocking tf outta ur older brother lmao

ofc she joins in

throwing in some teasing remarks of her own

poor giyuu lol

she is a frequent visitor to your tea shop

cause instead of making medicinal teas herself, now she can just get you to do it

plus she gets to see her favorite girlllll

now

the way giyuu finds out is too funny

you are in the infirmary at the butterfly mansion

dw ur not injured or sick or anything!!

now...

you're sitting on the bed waiting for shinobu

when giyuu walks in

and he's like "wtf are u doing here"

you're explain your business to ur brother when shinobu walks in looking down at a needle saying

"alright i have your birth control shot! not like you need it... i can't get u pregnant"

she looks up when she hears a 'smack'

and there you are with ur hand slapped to your forehead and a bright red face

giyuu just looks between you and shinobu with a blank face

before he passes clean out

dude hits the floor hard lmao

when he wakes up you give him an explanation

and then u and shinobu tease him for passing out

lol dude can't catch a break

[changbinsboobs]

Cum back

The long awaited Maknae Line Cuddle Reading is finally here🙌🏻

I hope y'all enjoy!

Han

Don't see him as a big cuddler tbh. I think he does every once in a while when its convenient, but i see him preferring to have his own space more. Like still laying in one bed with his partner, looking something together, but everyone has their personal space. Maybe when initially laying downs theres 2 minutes of cuddling and then everyone gies back to their own place🥲 im also seeing him preferring cuddles when its dark, so either early in the morning when waking up or late at night when doing movie night or falling asleep.

Felix

Cuddling with him is a part of daily routine, i think it'll be happening all day long, at every convenient chance. Cuddles will also be really warm and feel...ugh uk that feeling when you've been out and about the whole day, and ur exhausted and finally lay in bed and ur spine decompresses and u literally can feel the tension and stress exiting ur body? Thats the feeling u'll get when cuddling with felix. Of relaxation, but not quite. Just purging u off negative energy and tension. Cuddling will also be filled with talks and fun and jokes etc im hearing and also - im seeing he won't be shying away from pda. Im seeing lots of cuddling and embracing in public. Im seeing also firm grip(?) and compression. I think he likes receiving deep pressure and probably also gives that in his cuddle sessions too. Im also seeing feet massage.

Seungmin

Seungmin sadly is also one of the non-cuddlers. Im hearing "its a waste of time" and he would prefer to indulge in a hobby by himself, get some work done, run errands tasks etc, or spend quality time with his partner (but like doing something together, actively). But just laying on the couch, together, doesn't seem very appealing to him. He doesn't like it as far as i can pick up on the energy. Despite all that im seeing him cuddling A LOT nonetheless, probably because his partner loves it, and he loves his partner and wants to make them happy, so persay he doesn't like cuddling itself but he likes making his partner happy. Not seeing many clues on how he actually cuddles, but the card shows strong focus on the partner and mirroring to some degree so i assume he just cuddles the way his partner likes. So there's no one set way - it depends on who he's with. Also another important point is that this is not the case for all his partners. The person he's with has to be very special, and he has to love them very much. So yeah - they get that special treatment cuddles.

I.N

He got almost all the same cards as felix😂 i'd say he really loves cuddling, he does it often and likes to keep a constant "schedule". Like he would definitely notice and miss it if today he only cuddled his partner once, for example. Or if in the morning they forgot or didn't have time to cuddle. He'll definitely notice the difference and miss it throughout the day. I think he needs that constant energy to keep him strong and balanced (like mentally/emotionally) and it just gives him a sense of comfort and makes him feel loved in the relationship. I think physical contacts very important to him. I also see him get easily aroused when cuddling and often wanting to slap some cheeks after the cuddle sesh. Im seeing high libido overall, may be a reason for why physical contacts so important to him and why he needs that to feel lm throughout the day. Now i don't mean him needing that every 30 min. But he needs a consistent routine as i said, for example in the morning, then when he gets home, then after dinner, then while watching a movie, during cooking, before falling asleep etc. like just once for a few minutes isn't enough. Not getting much insight on the cuddling itself tho...so i think he doesn't have much preferences as long as its cuddling and just physical contact and just like...their bodies being pressed close to one another. I think he likes cuddling in a layed down position, like he's on his back and his partners on top yk? But not just the head the whole body. Or he has his head on their belly or butt. Just something of that sort, more horizontal cuddling.

[leocchisart]

OKAY; We need to talk about this TyZula scene:

this scene has been talked about a LOT. specifically by anti-tyzula/azula fans. but for this "rant" im looking at it through the lens of just azulas character.

it is DETRIMENTAL to azula as a character. this will be a slightly indepth review i guess. im sure someone already talked about this and what im going to say, but i just want to bring it to light considering some of the anti-azula/tyzula stuff i've been seeing recently

Part 1: Azulas reaction to the way Ty Lee approaches her

the way ty lee approached azula is really important here. you might just think, "oh leo it's just Azula being jealous!" but when ty lee walks up to azula saying, "thank goodness you're here!" (i didn't get this part in the clip cuz im a fool and didn't record it on time but whatever go watch the clip on youtube) this qoute is really impactful. it possibly made azula feel less than ty lee. here is the qoute again, "Thank goodness you're here", i feel like azula would take this very personally.

even just the single first sentence. "Thank goodness" is obviously ty lee thanking azula, but for what? you might say, "well yeah for being there" but i genuinely believe azula would interpret this along the lines of, "she only wants me when she needs me" or something like that.

Part 2: Azula's jealously towards Ty Lee

i think a lot of people solely think she's jealous over the boys liking ty lee more than her. but it's not just that. i genuinely find that azula is not only jealous of the boys, but also social interaction in general. specifically with ty lee having that skill and her not.

we don't have much information as to mai, ty lee, and azulas experience in the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, but im assuming azula didn't need much social skills to succeed there. she had two close friends to deal with people speaking to her, and was literally a crown princess of the FIRE NATION. if she couldn't get what she wanted whether mai or ty lee were there- she could always use her royalty as her advantage. i also can see her threatening those in school who opposed her (without using her royalty as a reason). there is a key moment we see during a flashback where azula and ty lee are playing. azula did her best to preform a cartwheel and failed while ty lee succeeded. because of this azula actually pushes ty lee down!

keep in mind that this is one of azulas closest friends other than mai. we can only IMAGINE what azula would do to a student who got in the way of something she wanted.

so yes; azula is jealous of ty lee getting attention from boys, but it's not solely that. it's her social skills that she's also jealous of.

Part 3: The Conflict

azula gets defensive after her reaction to the previous plot point. she verbally attacks ty lee because of it. azula says to ty lee, "those boys only like you because you make it so easy for them! you're not a challenge, you're a tease."

yes azula is "critiquing" the "way" ty lee attracts men. azula is saying she'd do the exact opposite. but the opposite is all she knows. she grew up learning the power of being the best, being perfect, and fear mongering. she genuinely sees that as the way to handle ANY social situation.

as far as, "it's not like they actually care who you are." qoute goes; azula sees this as another flaw in her interactions with men.

example is when she tries to convince chan to to maybe (?) have a relationship or farther; she uses (not exactly royality) but her skills as a skilled bender for a reason to stay with her. considering she has no social skills, her only option (in her mind) is to use her higher power. ty lee doesn't use her high rank in nobility (along with her chi blocking abilities) to what azula would call an advantage.

im not defending azulas verbal assault on ty lee. im solely explaining (imo) the feelings behind it.

Part 4: Ty Lee's reaction

This one is simple. ty lee is hurt by azulas words. obviously.

Part 5: Azula's redemption for this scene

it already baffles me when people say azula is (pure evil) just based on her actions between others. but this scene shows a side of azula we haven't been able to see so far through the series. an apology. not only did she apologize to ty lee but admitted her mistake and explained why she said what she did. i think it's insane that people solely walk past this scene and only see it as azula bullying ty lee. if anything it's the opposite. yes she makes a rude remark, but after seeing ty lee's reaction she IMMEDIATELY takes her comment back an apologizes.

this is so human and shows a side we hardly ever got to see. especially when it's specifically between her and ty lee. their relationship is so important as far as azulas character goes. (not to get too deep into it but,) even in "Azula and the Spirit Temple" ty lee is one of the illusions that the spirit attempts to make her happy with. azula obviously has a strong connection to ty lee in a loving and caring way that most people look past. whether it's from these scene or that specific comic. obviously their relationship has unhealthy flaws but what relationship doesn't?

Part 6: A quick resolution

so there you go. basically an essay on a single 36 second clip i just wanted to give azula some light because people ALWAYS paint her as "crazy" or "evil" but that's simply not true. same goes for TyZula. yes there is a power imbalance, but azula does admit her mistakes and apologizes for hurting ty lee's feelings.

Anyway thanks for reading!!

[zluty-spendlik]

WAKFU REDESIGN SERIES PART 3 - ADAMAÏ

Hiya, Im back lmaooo - took me long enough

I have been struggling with Ad's and Am's design so much. I dont know why. With Amalia, Im going to have to start over- again- 4th times the charm Im sure - but I finally finished this little guy!

ADAMAÏ IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER GUYS IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS I LOVE HIM SM

But anyway, here is the final (human form) design:

Im aware he has multiple forms since hes, you know, a shapeshifter, and Im going to add them i promise but im like super tired and burnt out from the rest of my mortal life rn

Anyway, to the DESIGN.

Honestly, Adamais og design kinda sucks. Im sorry (not rlly). He doesnt look similar to Yugo at all - YES I KNOW HES A DRAGON - which bothers me a lot, even his color scheme is a lot different from his literal twin...

In my version, I wanted Ad to look deer-like at first, since I gave Yugo deer features, but then I drew him over and over again until I got this fusion of a moth and a lamb or smthing..

I don't know, but I really like it!

The outfit he's wearing is actually what I plan to be an official eliatrope/dragon robe? Both Grougal and Qilby will be wearing it and - potentially - Yugo in season 3. It has some portal imagery (the spiral on the back), and I don't know I just think it's neat!

ALSO WAKFU FRECKLES-

Season 1

Ad has been raised by Grougaloragran (least complicated name ever, wtf Ankama :3) and with Eliatrope/Dragon traditions, so hes very knowledgable of the now dead culture and values it very much. He loves talking to Yugo about it (he gets almost bored sometimes, but he would never admit it to Adamaï).

He, just like Yugo, is extremely curious and loves studying the way Wakfu works and its limits.

And mainly, he loves Grougal, whom he sees as an idol and a father figure. Which is why hes so hurt when he gets killed by Nox.

It feels like the whole world is collapsing on him. His mentor, care-taker, father, LITERALLY THE ONLY OTHER "PERSON" HE EVER INTERACTED WITH AND THE ONLY OTHER DRAGON ALIVE, is gone.

Adamaï has noone. Well- almost noone. Theres this little 12 year old Eliatrope, his only hope, his only anchor.

And he asks you: "Uh, sorry, whats your name again?"

Season 2

HAHSHA LETS TRAUMATIZE THE BOY!! (Even more than he is) Like I said, Adamaï values his culture and people very much, so I assume he would get very, I mean extremely attached to Yugo. However, Yugo is not actually interested in the same things Adamaï is interested in, which makes him a little bit more avoidable of Ad than he should be, given his emotional state.

Not that we blame him. So instead Ad seeks out a new anchor, a new mentor, a new... idol. Who is that you may ask?

Well, it's Qilby of course. Now here's where the funny trauma part happens, because Adamaï starts blurring the line between Grougal and Qilby.

Qilby's mistakes suddenly don't matter as much because Adamaï cares about him as much as he cared about Grougaloragran even though they don't know each other that long (which is the core of the problem).

Anything he'll be does that is morally questionable suddenly isn't bad, because that's not the mentor that Adamaï was raised with ‐ he trust Grougal completely, so why should Qilby be aby different?

So when Qilby betrays him, Adamaï is all the more surprised and hurt. It doesn't help that he really doesn't want to hurt Qilby: Even though he finally realizes that Qilby is a bad person, Adamaï still sees him as an anchor. He might be bad, but other than Yugo he's the only other person Adamaï has.

So of course he loses the fight, of course he gets captured – he doesn't actually want Qilby to get hurt.

Season 3-4 (5?)

Okay let's make one thing clear, I'm a bit of a hater.

Like I genuinely really dislike season 3 and what it has going on with making Adamaï a villain? I really don't think it fits his character, and I would much prefer for the story to have Yugo and Ad grow closer and revive their culture despite all the horrors and terrible things that have been bestowed up on them - But the writers have decided to go the obvious evil twin route which honestly makes my blood boil..

so I don't think I will be even considering rewriting season 3? I think to make it likeable for myself - as this is a self-indulgent project - I would just have to make my own season 3?

If that makes sense?

Art dump!! (Seriously my sketchbook is filled w this lil guy, these r hand picked) And- woah, is that Cleophée redesign? Maybeee~

@saturnyukaa i was looking forward to ur reaction 👉👈

[nfr-girly]

Little Hope - Bradley Bradshaw x reader (Part 1)

Bradley’s priority’s have always been the navy and his daughter, hope, but what happens when his daughter’s teacher comes into the mix?

a/n: literally never wrote a fic before let me know if it’s good

Ever since Bradley and his ex had split up, he had been his daughter’s main guardian. He doesn’t really speak to his ex, and he doesn’t want to. Balancing being a dad and the navy wasn’t easy, so when the time came for Hope to go to pre-school, he couldn’t complain.

“Hey have you got your bag?” Brad asked

“Yes!!”

“And did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course I’m not like you” she rolled her eyes jokingly, to which he smiled at

He strapped her in her seat and pulled out of the drive. Brad was feeling all types of emotions, relief that he could spend some more time in the navy while she learns, sad that she’s growing up, also happy for her to make friends. He didn’t like feeling emotions. He never thought it ended well, and in his case it never had.

Pulling into the car park of the school, he stops for a minute. The school is a good size; he sees kids running around, parents talking to each other. He feels a sense of hope that she’ll be okay, but the other half is telling him to take her back home.

“Daddy are we going in??” Hope asks, the gap where her tooth was showing clear, she sits cuddling her bear.

“Oh yeah honey sorry” he gets out and unstraps her out her seat; they walk hand in hand towards the school.

Walking along he feels some eyes on him, at first he thinks maybe they’re judging him, or worst, hope. But as he glances he realises some of the mums are checking him out. He looks away quickly, he had decided to wear a very tight shirt today.

He walked into classroom 2b, which was what classroom hope was apparently in. He looks around and sees the back of who he guesses is the teacher. He waits till she’s done talking to a student.

But as soon as she turned around, Bradley had completely zoned out everything around him but you. As you notice him, you give him a smile and start walking towards him. If he didn’t feel nervous already, he absolutely did now.

“Hi!! Im Miss L/N!! I assume you are hope?” You kneel down to match hopes height, while Bradley’s eyes are still on you. He would’ve thought he had landed in heaven seeing you.

“Yes!! This is my daddy!!!” Hope says, tugging at Bradley’s shirt. He snaps out of his trance as you get up again, trying to understand what just happened

your POV

Being in the presence of Hopes father could be classed as its own national holiday, because being able to meet a man that gorgeous should be celebrated.

“Hi! My names Miss L/N, but you can just call me Y/N” I whisper the last part

“Hi.. Im uh- im hopes dad, but my names Bradley” he says as he shakes my hand. I don’t even know if I can think the things I’m thinking about a students dad, but who gives a shit.

“Nice to meet you Bradley, I just know hope will have a great time here!” I smile at him, which he grins back at.

“Yeah I hope. She’s feeling excited so it should be alright. so uh I gotta get going now, but pick ups at 3:15 right?”

“Yeah!” I reply; feeling sudden disappointment from him having to leave

“Hey honey I’ll be back soon okay?” He has a little conversation with his daughter, I notice a lot of features they share, same nose, same eyes. It makes my heart fill with warmth even more

He gives her a peck on the cheek before getting up.

“Well I’ll uh, pick her up at 3:15 then” he says

“Yeah um see you then” I smile

He smiles back before turning around and heading out the door.

“So hope let’s get you to your desk and meet your classmates okay!” I say

“Okay!” She smiles as we walk towards the classroom. She talks about her teddy bear, and how she named him Rooster, I assume maybe she likes roosters? Half of the conversation I may have been thinking back to her dad. God, why is 3:15 so far away?

————————————————————————

[osarina]

I CAME SCREAMING AND RUNNING WHEN I HEARD YANDERE DAZAI OMLL HOW DO YOU PERSONALLY SEE YAN!DAZAI??? cause theres so many ways to characterize him if he becomes Yandere especially if you compare and contrast his PM and ADA self

... here we go. yanzai my beloved - i dont think u guys understand how insane i am over him. anyway, i'm not making this one as long as i planned to because (surprise) i've planned out a two-part fic for this that i want to write when i'm done with civilian!dazai, and i dont want to spoil it. hehe.

but. in general, i think even non-yanzai would be veryyyyy possessive over his lover. yanzai is on an entirely different level though - and even WITHIN yanzai, i think pm yanzai and ada yanzai are entirely different monsters and i mean that so literally. but first, in general, possessive, very manipulative. yanzai has likely found his reason to live in his lover and he's NAWT about to let that go.

yanzai in general would tend to lead toward manipulation through guilt and isolation, i think. i don’t think any version of yanzai would ever get violent with his partner and i stay heavy on that belief. he’s got more of a tendency to treat you like you’re something fragile that could break at any given moment.

also i'm going to split pmzai into two - canon pmzai (ages 15-18) and then pmzai in an au where he never left the pm. so the order i'm gonna talk about is canon pmzai, canon adazai (as a direct follow up to canon pmzai), and then im gonna talk about pmzai au where he never left the pm.

for the purposes of this, assume that reader joined the pm when they were young

canon pmzai

so first i want to talk about how it probably starts, because i could sooooo very much see this starting while he & his lover are young. since this is canon, i imagine they meet at around 15/16 like i have dazai & pmreader meeting. dazai's clearly a lot more unstable during his early pm years and i think his obsession with his lover could start with something really minimal tbh. maybe they shoot an offhand compliment to him, or stop to pick something up that he dropped, and dazai is just so alone & isolated by mori atp that he just completely fixates on this person because they’re the first one to ever say/do something kind for him, as small as it may have been.

i think it would even start out harmless, spends a lot of time thinking about you, daydreaming. maybe he even steps in on missions for you - which he notably doesn't do for anyone because he doesn't want to do more work than he has to. but something would happen that eventually triggers the shift from harmless to a veryyyy dangerous obsession. maybe you got critically wounded on a mission, or maybe you start spending time with other people—whatever it is, it just flips a switch in him because he realizes that he is not about to loose you and he doesn't care what he has to do to make sure of it.

on this topic ^^ maybe this is a hot take, but i think canon pm yanzai would be entirely more dependent on his lover compared to adazai. adazai is still dependent, but not to the extent pmzai is. i know people hc him as hyper independent, which i also mostly hc for him, but i think if he's found someone that he's attached himself to like this, he’s young enough that he'll quickly become codependent on them, and that obviously scares him which makes him even more intense with his yan tendencies.

that being said, i still think that he would be careful to not alert you to any shift of his mentality. he'd be very hyperaware of keeping a good image in your eyes, so everything he does do is going to be behind the scenes. he'd probably work a lot with isolation and trying to make you as dependent on him as he is on you—justifies it by telling himself that it's not fair that he can't live without you but you can live without him LOL, won't be satisfied until he's inclined enough to believe that if he was gone you would be ruined without him (which comes into play when he leaves the mafia). he also makes sure that the missions you go on - if he even has you going on any - are all easy AND he makes sure he's overseeing them. probably phrases it as just a shift in command, assuming you were someone else's subordinate first, and you don't really have any reason to think anything of it.

i think he'd keep a really tight hold on his image up until the events of dark era, that whole ... week ? i assume its about a week, of everything going down with ango and oda just tosses him into a mental spiral and he'd probably let the mask slip a few times in front of you. i still don’t think it’s enough for you to really question anything—not until he leaves, that is.

now moving on to adazai - but first, the underground years:

we're gonna assume that you stay with the pm when he leaves. i think he'd spend a lot of his underground years honestly just keeping an eye on you from a distance. i think he'd be like very back and forth with how he feels, like a part of him is soooo satisfied that you're so broken about him leaving but then the other part of him has him wanting rip out his own throat for being the reason for your distress. he'd be rlly hyperaware of you "moving on" from him. his go to would be driving people away from you, like it was while he was with the pm but it's a lot harder now that he has to be a "ghost" so to speak, so i think he would target you yourself more often. and it would be little things, like whenever he sees you start talking to someone new, he'd leave little things around your apartment to remind you of him. maybe pictures you'd taken together, or small trinkets, anything to make you remember him and trigger you back into that spiral of missing him. BUT that being said, i think he would be very careful to ensure that you don't realize it's him leaving these things around, so he'd go through your apartment and look for stuff and would lay it out carefully to make you think that you just happened to leave it out.

i think over the course of his underground years, you start to realize that whatever you had with dazai was not healthy and how he acted with you was not healthy, and dazai does take note of this in his 💀 long hours observing you, which is why he’s so careful to keep up his new mask with you when he inevitably meets you again (read below).

OK now adazai

adazai is interesting. i went back and forth with this a lot, but i think adazai would really utilize his new job & demeanor as a tool to make you come back to him/fall for him again, especially if you’d started to put things together during the years he was gone. he frames his leaving it as how it was just something he had to do, look how much better he is now, he’s healed & hes good now, and he didn’t know what else to do because he knew his mental state wasn’t healthy back in the mafia. <- i think this would be important specifically because you would take note of how he acknowledges how incredibly possessive and weird he was with you, and in your mind, someone who acts like that probably wouldn’t see anything wrong with it, so the fact that he acknowledges it would be a green flag in your mind because maybe he has grown.

he also would probably hit you with a few guilt trips like he didn’t even know he meant enough to you to make you care about whether or not he was there. he’d be veryyyyyy sweet and honeyed with his apologies and pleas for forgiveness, and he’d be patient too. if you weren’t open to listening to him the first time you run into him, he’d orchestrate several other “run ins” over the next few weeks, whittle down your guard until he can finally claw his way back into your skin.

once that whole first stage of “winning you back” is over, dazai would quickly return to old habits although, however careful he was while in the pm to keep a good image in your eyes, he’s 100000x more careful now. because now it’s beyond just not letting you see the “demon prodigy”, he’s been advertising himself to you as a good, changed man and he has every intention of maintaining that image in your eyes. so yeah, he might be using access to cctv cameras to stalk your every move and yes, he’s slowly but surely driving everyone away from you, but in your eyes, he’s a detective who spends the saving people and that should never waver in anyway.

i think one notable difference is that adazai’s first big goal is going to be to drag you from the mafia, so while he is isolating you from people in the pm, i think he wouldn’t be so quick to isolate you from the members of the agency. in fact he would even encourage it to an extent - as long as they know their place 💀 - until he gets you to leave the pm, that is, then he might start to isolate you altogether again.

adazai likes to fashion himself as a bit of a savior to you i think. he saw how you spiraled without him, and came back to you, promising to never leave you again, apologizing for ever having have. gets in your head by making comments about how he didn’t even know you rlly cared about him like that.

^^ he’ll drag u from the dark shadow of the port mafia and tuck you right into his own shadow instead. and yeah, it might be just as dark, but at least he’ll be there to to make sure some light is peeking through cell bars of his “love”.

nowwww pmzai who never left the mafia.

i think i’ll keep this one short because imo i feel like this would just be canon pmzai without bothering to keep the whole front up in front of you. he doesn’t really care to hide his obsession over you - what are you going to do about it? run? he’s not going to let you do that, and he knows you don’t want to do that anyway. this pmzai is even more unstable than canon pmzai - i imagine he still lost oda, but then failed to even fulfill his last request by leaving the mafia and going to the light, so instead he focuses all of his energy onto the one person he has left: you.

forget missions. you’ll be lucky if he ever lets you leave the pm hq again. people die for looking at you the wrong way - whether it be pity, concern, or “envy” (because dazai is paranoid and thinks everyone is trying to stealing what’s his). sometimes you make comments about it to him, wanting to go on missions & talk to people again, and it triggers breakdowns in dazai that you can never tell if they’re real or fake - panic attacks over losing you like odasaku, begging you not to leave him too, etc. you don’t know if these are real, but he’s got you so tight around his finger already that the off chance that these aren’t manufactured to guilt you into dropping the subject is enough to make you give in.

[nitrokiraru]

masterpost of all the times nitro+chiral has referenced their own games! made bc i was bored and i like epic nitro+chiral references

also includes references to other nitroplus games, if there are any refs i missed please feel free to add to the post or lmk and i will add them!

Togainu No Chi references

to start out is the bgm playing in slow damage! credits to this channel called L on youtube for the recording, they also uploaded other vids of n+c bgm being in surodame so shoutout to a real one bc im about to use all of their vids for this post

haunt, shifty, and tactics play in the restaurant!

this next one is not exactly confirmed to be a reference but I always felt like the re:code virus and trip ending cg was a homage to Kau

like??? THE OUTFITS LOOK KINDA SIMILAR IDK!!! i like to think that it is! and considering the fact that honyarara (dmmd artist) was a togainu no chi fan, i wouldnt be surprised if the similarities were intentional

Lamento references

to my knowledge there is not a lot of lamento refs in the other games, but like togainu no chi, lamento's bgm is also in slow damage!

kowaku, kaze ga huku machikado, and ketsui (? the last one is a lil hard to hear but it sounds like ketsui) play in the cafe!

Sweet Pool references

this reference is one i was NOT aware of at all until very recently, so credit to @/slybluehologhost for pointing it out! and for the screenshots if they are yours! their post was the one i found this out from lmao

the CG of one of the first rhyme fights in dramatical murder, is a corrupted version of the Okinaga household cg from sweet pool!

here is the original CG. if you notice it's using 3d resources, something that dmmd didn't actually have a lot of as backgrounds. the reason is because it's leftovers from the previous game!

if you look at the CG flipped, you can see clearly that it is the Okinaga household living room/kitchen!

in my opinion this is one of the coolest refs on this post. bc i played dmmd before every other n+c game, i genuinely didn't notice this when i first played. its something that only people who played sweet pool would notice, and i just find that so nice! just a lil easter egg for people who know

sweet pool bgm is also present in slow damage!

scene [warp02], chills02, and calm01 play in the bar!

another ref in slow damage is the billboard with youji official art on it

prolly my fav official art of youji ever

Dramatical Murder references

dmmd's bgm is featured in slow damage!

track 10, 12, and the video says bgm 22 but i cant rly hear anything? idk regardless the bgm plays when you go to beat up that guy who likes to get beat up by his brother for some reason LOL

another very very small reference that is extremely easy to miss is the fact that clear's nendoroid is in Mayu's room

if you zoom in on the parts i circled, you can see that the nendoroid box says 597. and nendoroid 597 just so happens to be the clear nendo!

under the cut are other nitroplus title refs! (also didnt wanna make this post look too long fndskgjn)

Other Nitroplus title references

Mayu's room is FULL of Nitroplus title references. so much that some of them I didn't really recognize besides the obvious, so i literally had to just go through the character lists on nitroplus games to find what characters they were. ur welcome for this incoming information that you may or may not have known

probably one of the most recognizable nitroplus characters in this room is saya from saya no uta, mayu has a figure of her in the middle! (theres more boxes of her but this was the most noticeable imo)

his figure display has many nitroplus characters on it

to start from the top, the one in the long maid like dress is Petrushka from Kikokugai - The Cyber Slayer

Next to her is Franco il Nero from Zoku Satsuriku no Django

i couldnt find anything for who's next to this chara, so i assume its just swimsuit versions of the character Mayu's obsessed with

Going to the 2nd row, though you can just barely see her, i found this character to be Echika from Tokyo Necro

Next (disregarding the obvious figures in between) to her are the two main characters from You and Me and Her, Aoi Mukou and Sone Miyuki!

i find it a little funny that they would put these references in because the audience for the people playing nitroplus games vs the audience playing n+c games are like VERY different but nonetheless, pretty cool!

while not a "reference" per se, sweet pool is heavily inspired by saya no uta!

this is something thats just a generally agreed fact, but i felt compelled to include it anyway because i rly love both of these vns and i love rambling abt them. theyre very similar in the ways that they both got meat n gore, and the main characters dealing with the meat n gore, and the general theme of just isolating yourself from people because of it and not exactly having a happy end. fuminori completely giving up his outside life for saya, destroying friendships n whatnot, and youji locking himself in his room and shutting out people who aren't dealing w his lil problem (makoto). the ending where saya wins and the red road ending shares some vibes imo. its all very similar even down to the soundtrack that had some of the same people working on it, and even gen urobuchi himself (writer of saya) worked on sweet pool as an advisor. so in my head its canon that these two games r brother and sister

thats pretty much it! (unless i decide to add more i swear theres probably so much im missing LMAO) thank you if you read this far ^_^

edit: check notes for other references people have added!

[demonqueenart]

im just gonna be so genuine and say i love you but i dont understand what racist remarks you're talking about and it's really frustrating for me to hear people talk about this like its so serious when i havent seen anything at all thats bad. im white so i think i may have genuinely missed things but could you please just give me some examples? i really am trying to understand where you guys are coming from its just getting hard because everyone is just getting mad at each other whenever they talk about it. i know people are mad bc of something dan said about not being able to come on tour to third world countries and possibly something he said in like 2011 when he was in his crazy fake tan phase? i just really am not seeing anything here that i think would get people so worked up and i would love to understand better

Hey anon, I understand where you coming from. And I really appreciate you trying to understand better.

To be really honest, why things have blown up now is because of the upcoming tour. It’s not really about why they couldn’t go to the other continents when they’re planning to do 32 shows in US, even though that’s also fishy af cause they could’ve easily dipped into Mexico, and the route they using feels like they’re avoiding latam specifically. The way that they handled this with poc fans is the problem, because while they’re being excited from the tour or whatever, they have not once tried to explain why they couldn’t go to poc fans (or the majority of us that is. Some of us might live somewhere else.)

The way they keep retweeting and being hyped about the tour, while basically intentionally avoiding talking to us is just.. it hurts. Most of us complain about this, and even more expressing how they just need dnp to give them an explanation. But never once did they do it. Instead, they even launch more trailer lol. And I know they saw it, there’s a lot of us and they like snooping on social media anyway. It makes us feel like we’re not part of the tour, that it wasn’t meant for us. And it was actually the first time I questioned if I was really a part of this community at all.

Turning back to phandom with that state of mind, it can feel like everyone is abandoning you. Because just like dnp, everyone is only talking about the tour, and not about how this exclusion needs to be addressed. It’s understandable why people would feel angry when they just keep being ignored like their voices didn’t matter. But I know now, just because people didn’t interact with me, doesn’t mean they didn’t want to be there for me. We just might come from a different place. (Btw, if you’re western and you have poc friends who’s affected by this, please reach out to them. The reason why I’m still here rn is because of all my friends, western friends included, saying they’ll be there for me throughout this racism thing. They might be angry and hurt, and even assume the worst of you. And I won’t ask more than you can do. But saying you understand (or at least empathize the situation they’re in) and that you will support them no matter what, will help them a lot.)

Dan clearly carry a micro aggression around latam, and the fact that this still occur in wad really says a lot about how they’ve not grown from that. When dan said brazil and mexico were 3rd world country on was, that makes us feel like he’s looking down on us. And the fact that they have avoided latam specifically without giving any reason why they couldn’t go, well, there’s only so many things you can assume is happening under the surface. This makes us feel like they’re looking down on us, and that they’ve never seen their poc fans as equals.

The reason why the old stuff was brought up is because this isn’t the first time this has happened. Dan has made a lot of racist remarks, and while it’s understandable to slip up from time to time, and even more understandable why he might be afraid to actually apologize and own things up, it doesn’t excuse the patterns that are being repeated here. When he doesn’t take accountability to his past mistakes and keep repeating the patterns of racism and exclusion, that indicates he’s going to keep oppressing us forever without ever acknowledging it. And THAT is not okay.

We don’t want to cancel them, never once do we want that. We only want dnp to hear us and actually talk to us about this. They are not beyond redemption, but it’s going to be hard for them to open up considering the past fifteen years of them not doing that. So the only thing we can do at this point is to be more opened up about their racist remarks. We’re bringing up past mistakes now, because there’re still a lot of people who have been affected by this, and them not bringing it up is not going to make all that hurt go away. So I suggest, we should bring it up, not to cancel them or demonize them! But to acknowledge it exists so that we can heal from it. We can learn to love dnp despite being flawed, and normalize how to take accountability to make this place safer for poc. These voices can’t be avoided because that’s also a form of exclusion in this community. I want everyone to feel welcomed here, so I’ll listen to their voices when they need it. That way, there will be a place for poc to belong in this space. We can learn to include each other in, or at least I hope so :3

*also, this will be very funny if this ask turns out to be dnp, but whatever lol xD Hope we can catch up someday whoever you are (✿˵ ꒡3꒡˵)৴♡*

[fun-eralsss]

was making a post about all my intersex headcanons, but i realized that so many of them were from homestuck that i might as well make a whole post solely about them. so yea :)

btw this one’s gonna be LONG AS HELL

homestuck headcanons (intersex edition because i do what i want :p)

first off, the humans!!

jade harley (NCAH): honestly, it’s mostly just vibes. plus her whole thing is dogs n stuff. dogs have a lot of hair. you know who else has lots of hair? people with NCAH

roxy lalonde (AIS): remember that whole thing where hussie revealed the last two letters of her name first, so everyone immediately headcanonned her as a trans woman, then it was confirmed that she’s cis? homegirl can have XY chromosomes while being cis! bada bing bada boom!

ok now the trolls!! (this section will be significantly longer lmao)

sollux captor (Chimerism): first of all, his blood is literally yellow, so yknow. second of all, duality is a HUGE part of his character! it just makes sense for him to be a chimera to me tbh (i also headcanon that gold and violetbloods are more likely to be medically recognized as intersex but that’s an entirely different can of worms)

nepeta leijon (PCOS): same reasoning as jade, but her whole thing is cats. cats have lots of hair. you know who else has lots of hair? people with PCOS

kanaya maryam (Klinefelter’s Syndrome): most people depict her as being super tall, and you know who tends to be super tall? yeah :)

(i know that it’s kinda implied at all jadebloods are female, just let me have trans intersex kanaya. i beg. i grovel at your feet)

terezi pyrope (undeclared, likely Chimerism): i feel like she would really love to bring up her intersexuality while arguing with a transphobe or intersexist. she would also probably not disclose what her specific variation is so they couldn’t pull the whole “you’re just a fe/male with a dsd!!!!” bs. also, balance is a huge part of her character, so i feel like chimerism particularly suits her

equius zahhak (Hyperandrogenism): his body is quite literally overflowing with testosterone. man is literally sweating 24/7 and frankly, no other indigobloods seem to have as much testosterone as him, so we know this isn’t typical. they’re all strong, yeah, but this guy is on a whole other level. i just KNOW this boy’s skin is oily as hell

(also yes!! i headcanon equius as a cis guy with hyperandrogenism!! intersex doesn’t just mean “man with lots of estrogen” or “woman with lots of androgen”!!)

eridan ampora (PAIS): ok this one is one im actually super passionate about. in the og comic, all female trolls are consistently drawn with black lips (with the exception of nepeta, who i’ve already included on here). all the male trolls are drawn without the lips except for eridan. eridan is shown to have black lips in multiple panels! back when it was first pointed out, most assumed it was because of how feminine he is compared to the other guys, but you know what? idc!!! that boy is intersex and indulges in toxic masculinity due to his insecurity!!! idc what anyone has to say!!! also his blood is literally violet so yknow

damara megido (CAIS): i think she would get a really big kick out of not having body hair, periods or the ability to give birth. obviously there are downsides to it, but i doubt those would get in her way of having fun. i also think she would really like reclaiming That One Japanese Slur For Intersex People

cronus ampora (MAIS): mostly cause vibes and the fact that he’s related to eridan, so it’s more likely. what can i say, the ampora boys are very “does being intersex make me less of a man?” coded

bonuses!!!

rose lalonde (PCOS): she gives me the vibe of a woman who has PCOS but doesn’t consider herself intersex due to how little it affects her. tho i imagine that she’s done lots of reading on intersex variations considering how two people she cares deeply about (kanaya and roxy) do consider themselves intersex

dave strider (MAIS): i know that trans dave is a super popular headcanon and don’t get me wrong, transgender icon dave strider will save the world!! it’s just that for me personally, i’ve only been able to see him as an intersex guy. though in his case, i imagine that he would find out pretty late into his life. and like his sister, considering how little it’s affected his life, he wouldn’t consider himself intersex either

anyways yeah that’s it :) have a good day <3

[numinous-void]

um i’m swamped with school but here’s some radiorose headcanons! i am probably gonna write little imagines (are those still a thing?) about them & the headcanons instead of full stories cus im a good writer- just not in the creative way… the boring research and report paper way….

- rosie does a lot of the grocery shopping because alastor is very frugal. i imagine he was pretty poor as a kid so it was a habit his mama passed onto him.

- same train of thought, but he makes a lot of struggle meals. 70% of the time out of habit, 30% of the time for nostalgia. old habits die hard. when he gets older the nostalgia reason becomes more often. in my au he’s very very early 20s. frontal lobe not finished. i see him dying at like 29-32 range.

-alastor is pretty thin, and rosie will make him model designs and he sits there feigning grumpiness but really he doesn’t care and likes to help her.

-constant playful war of who’s cooking because they both enjoy it. rosie can bake and she teaches alastor how to. he doesn’t like sweets but after he learns, he bakes little goodies for her.

-they both have similar m.o. and they leave little signatures on each victim. alastor draws or carves (depending on severity of how much he dislikes the person) a smiley face. rosie leaves little flower petals covering their face or heart.

-both alastor and rosie have similar motives. they will kill both men and women but will not harm children and nor will they orphan children. they target people who are abusers (in any form) and p3dos. they are sorta like vigilantes but they are a little too sadistic to be a vigilante in a way. they torment the victim psychologically and physically as revenge and take joy and are entertained by it.

-they are knowledgeable in different areas. alastor is very good at anatomy, rosie is very good with decay. they are both extremely intelligent, but these skills are only slightly more noticeable in each other.

-alastor manipulates through smooth talking, rosie manipulates through sweet talking. they manipulate people to gain more of a social status, manipulate victims into traps, and manipulate people who are not their target demographic, but incredibly arrogant and difficult. they both do not manipulate innocent people or people with equal or lesser power than them. they do not manipulate each other either.

- due to the vastly different parts of america they were raised in (alastor- new orleans, louisiana and rosie- boston, massachusetts) they sometimes have trouble interpreting words or understanding words through each others heavy accents. alastor may ask if rosie wants a “cold drink,” she may assume a literal drink that is cold, when he actually is referring to soda. rosie may ask the same thing but refers to soda as “pop.” for funsies, mimzy just calls it soda

-alastor is still very cold, suave, silent, and nonchalant. exception… rosie. he melts for her. she likes to have fun with that lol. he’s ace but rosie can definitely bring out a little bit more of a gray-asexual or favorable ace with just small little (but intimate) gestures. he’s not used to it but he likes it. he likes the genuine affection.

-rosie first saw his curls when he was escorting her home and it began to rain, not having an umbrella, alastors hair began to curl. he didn’t want her to see (cus yaknow… the 1920s…) but she loved it. she eventually learns and helps al take care of his curly hair or will help him straighten it. she prefers it curly but she understands the need and want for it to be straight in public/society at the time.

THANK YOU THAGS ALL!

[twipsai]

The Phantom Rider, Sonic's "hero" status, and Sonic's love for his friends: a poorly put-together analysis

so, ive seen a non-zero amount of people say that Sonic taking on the alter ego of the Phantom Rider is out of character for him, and my knee-jerk reaction was to disagree (though, im biased, because i adore the Phantom Rider). but then i thought about the why of it all -- why does it not feel out of character for Sonic to disguise himself to cause chaos?

full post and me over-analyzing a blue hedgehog under the cut

part 1: Sonic will break the rules

well, first of all, Sonic doesnt really care too much about being a hero. he helps people because he wants to, not because its expected of him. weve all seen those satbk cutscenes reposted to hell and back, so let me be the millionth to do so

when Merlina tells Sonic that, upon taking Caliburn, he would become the villain in everyones eyes, he shrugs it off. and even later, when Gawain tries to talk him down from battling Merlina, Sonic dismisses the idea that hes doing this out of some kind of chivalry or duty, that he fights because he wants to.

there are many other instances of Sonic not really caring about rules or social conventions, and gladly breaking them if it means he can save people (dude literally runs from cops in sa2), but its never directly stated as explicitly as it is in satbk.

so, Sonic doesnt care about being a hero, and doesnt care about being a villain in other peoples eyes if he knows hes doing whats right. youd think with this facet of his character, him actively disguising himself as the Phantom Rider would be antithetical to this point, right? if he doesnt care about being seen as a villain, then he shouldnt have to mask his identity. its a fair conclusion to come to, but it also ignores what i think is one of Sonic's core personality traits;

part 2: Sonic loves his friends a lot

its strange to me that not a lot of people bring this up, because he does! from "and Amy... take care of yourself," to "I'll have you smiling by the end of this," Sonic just genuinely loves his friends to death, and doesnt want to sabotage them.

if he runs out there to cause chaos during the clean sweepstakes, completely unmasked? everyone who knows a single thing about Sonic will start to assume bad things about the Restoration. just because Sonic has good intentions doesnt mean hes above the rules, and acting like he is can put people he cares about (namely Jewel and the Diamond Cutters) at the mercy of public opinion.

he cant act like hes above the rules, especially when hes directly associated with the Restoration (even if hes not a part of it) during the clean sweepstakes.

(id also like to point out that here, Sonic doesnt even consider it a bad thing to be completely and utterly chaotic and disruptive at first; Tails has to remind him its a bad idea)

and understandably so! we see how everyone reacts to seeing Sonic as the Phantom Rider, especially Tangle -- its a tough pill to swallow, especially without all the context involved. to an outsider, it looks like Sonic is just trying to sabotage the clean sweepstakes because hes being a sore loser (or, really, any other number of malicious reasons)

but, really, i think that the point im trying to make is summed up best by Amy and Sally (even though its in Archie)

thats just not how they do things. they dont want to cause necessary chaos or danger just for the hell of it, and they certainly dont want to associate the Restoration with that sorta thing -- people look to the Restoration for hope, and while Sonic is associated with it during the clean sweepstakes, his hands are a bit tied. itd be a total dick move for him to basically throw his friends (and especially Jewel) under the bus like that, and he knows it.

Sonic may not care about his reputation in other peoples eyes, but he cares greatly about how his actions affect his friends.

part 3: the conclusion

its easy to assume that, based on how lax Sonic is with rules and social conventions, him disguising himself just to cause a distraction for Amy and Tails to get attention off of them would be out of character. but, based on the circumstances, i think that it makes enough sense given the context for him to take the route that he does.

sorry if this analysis is a little all over the place, im sorta scatter brained right now but i wanted to get my thoughts out about this cuz its been on my mind