#and me being an artist I've decided to check it out because I know I know don't judged by the cover BUT wel... sorry let's get back on trac | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

03jyh23 · 7 months ago

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🌏⌇atlas┆song mingi

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

rapper!mingi x non-celebrity!reader

│synopsis: in the heart of bustling seoul, you and mingi shared a luxurious penthouse apartment. despite the grandeur, loneliness consumed you as mingi's skyrocketing fame distanced him from the loving boyfriend you once knew.

│genre: lovers to strangers, angst

│trigger warnings: heartbreak (obviously), mature language, mention of past trauma and pain

│words: 8.9 k

│playlist: empty box an album by song mingi, tracklist: after hours, too late, killing me (english), wait, paranoid, drunk, lonely heart, empty box (english)

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! finally, here's the next part of goes to waste series. i had to take some time off after publishing 2soon (check it if you haven't yet), which was a truly personal piece, but now i'm back! atlas is very loosely inspired by the song; it's more about the vibe the song gave me than the actual lyrics. i also changed the original synopsis quite a bit because i honestly didn't feel like sticking with the first version. same as with 2soon, i spent some time creating a playlist, and if you do decide to listen, i hope you enjoy the songs i've chosen. oh! and if you read through my small author notes, then you're lucky because i can finally reveal that both the reaper (jongho) and right here (yeosang) will be published as a mini-series (but only after finishing finding our way back)!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a tagged reblog or comment would truly make my day!

│taglist: @skittyneos │@kyeos4ng │ @vcutparis │@hoeforalbedo

You were sitting on a bed in the bedroom you shared with Mingi in your very own luxurious penthouse apartment in the bustling center of Seoul. It hasn't been long since you moved in here, but the vastness and elegance of the place made you feel even lonelier than ever. Mingi was out, performing at a sold-out arena show, and the glaring reality was that you weren't there to support him. It wasn't that you didn't want to attend; the painful truth was that he simply forgot to invite you—his girlfriend of the last 4 years, someone who had stood by his side through thick and thin. You looked at the floor, your eyes catching the sight of your suitcases and bags packed meticulously with your belongings, ready to move out of this once cherished home. The thing was, you couldn't quite leave without seeing Mingi one last time. Your heart ached at the thought of parting without a final goodbye, and it didn't let you go. You didn't know life without Mingi, and the prospect left you shit scared. The very thought of navigating through your days without his presence was enough to send shivers down your spine. However, you couldn't pretend any longer that Mingi hasn't changed. The boy you once fell in love with, who was caring, attentive, and always made you feel like the center of his universe, seemed to have vanished. In his place was someone distant, preoccupied, and seemingly indifferent to your feelings. You tried to rationalize his behavior, blaming it on the stress of his career and the constant pressure he was under, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. The connection you once shared felt like a distant memory, and the reality of who he had become was impossible to ignore.

It all started not even a year ago. Mingi's song went viral on the internet, and he gained a massive following in a span of three days. From being an independent artist playing in clubs for maybe a couple of hundred fans, he went straight to signing a contract with a major company, making huge checks and selling out arenas in a span of minutes. The transformation was almost surreal. One day, you were cheering him on from small, dimly lit venues where you could see the sweat on his brow and the fire in his eyes as he performed. The next, he was being whisked away to luxurious studios and high-profile meetings with industry moguls. It felt like you were living in a dream—or a nightmare, depending on the moment. Suddenly, the simplicity of your shared life was replaced by a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. Mingi's phone never stopped buzzing with calls, texts, and notifications. Invitations to exclusive parties, collaborations with big names, and interviews with top media outlets flooded in. While his career skyrocketed, your relationship seemed to plummet into an abyss of neglect and misunderstanding. As he became more entrenched in his new world, you noticed changes in him. The boy who once couldn't wait to spend a quiet night in, watching movies with you was now constantly on the go, his calendar filled with events that didn't include you. The intimate conversations you used to have, were replaced by strained, hurried phone calls and text messages that felt more like obligations than genuine connections. Despite your best efforts to be supportive and understanding, the growing distance between you became an insurmountable chasm. Mingi's success had come at a steep price, and it felt like you were the one paying for it. The man you had known and loved for years was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone who seemed more like a stranger with each passing day.

The night was getting later, and there was still no sign of Mingi. Maybe he wasn't planning to come back today; maybe he was too busy with his new rapper friends to even care to come back. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and frustration. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message or a missed call, but there was nothing. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had left you waiting, feeling like an afterthought in his increasingly busy life. You tried to occupy yourself, turning on the TV and flipping through channels, but nothing could distract you. The boy who once couldn't stand to be away from you was now someone who seemed to have forgotten you existed.

With every passing minute, the reality of your situation became clearer. Mingi might not come back tonight, tomorrow, or even the day after that. He was out there, living his life, while you were stuck in a place that no longer felt like home. You still vividly remember your first day in this apartment; it was a momentous occasion. Mingi had received his significant check from the tour ticket sales, as well as the royalties, just a week passed since, and you were moving into the luxurious space. The excitement and anticipation were palpable as you both looked forward to starting this new chapter in your lives together. You left your one-bedroom apartment with a tingle of sadness, each corner filled with cherished memories of the life you had built together. However, the excitement and anticipation of creating a new home in a spacious, luxurious penthouse overshadowed any melancholy you felt. You both dreamed of this moment, envisioning a future filled with endless possibilities and new adventures. The thought of decorating the new place, hosting friends, and building new memories brought a sense of joy and hope. It was a new chapter, a fresh start, and despite the nostalgia for your old apartment, the promise of what lay ahead made the transition feel like the beginning of something wonderful. So, you never thought you would be leaving this place like this. Heartbroken. The walls that once echoed with laughter and joy now felt cold and distant. Every corner of the penthouse, which had been a symbol of Mingi’s dreams and aspirations, now seemed to mock your pain. The spacious rooms that once brought a sense of freedom now felt like a labyrinth of sorrow. You recalled the countless evenings spent planning your future together, the whispered promises of forever, and the dreams you had woven into the very fabric of this home. Now, those dreams lay shattered, scattered like fragile pieces of glass. The weight of your decision to leave pressed heavily on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You never imagined that the place which once brought you so much happiness would be the same place you'd have to walk away from.

You promised yourself you wouldn't wait longer than 3 AM, and as the hour approached, you picked up all your belongings and took them to the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your decision sinking in deeper with every passing second. You glanced once again across the apartment, taking in the memories etched into every corner of the space that once felt like a loving home. With a heavy heart, you left your keys on the kitchen counter. As you put your shoes on, you paused for a moment, feeling the finality of your actions. You were ready to turn off the lights and walk out of the door, the silence of the apartment echoing your own sense of abandonment. Just as you reached for the switch, the doors opened with a soft creak that seemed to reverberate through the entire space.

There stood Mingi, his face pale and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost. His presence, so unexpected and surreal in that moment, made your heart skip a beat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. For a split second, neither of you moved, as if frozen in time.

"What is going on?" he asked, his eyes finding your gaze as he swallowed hard.

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I can't do this anymore," you replied, your voice trembling.

His expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"I mean us, Mingi. I'm not even a part of your life anymore," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I packed my bags. I'm leaving."

Mingi's eyes widened in shock, and he took a step closer. "Leaving? No baby, you can't just leave."

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "I deserve more than this. I'm done. We're done," you said, almost out of breath, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow.

Mingi's face contorted with emotion, his eyes pleading as he reached out to you. "Please, let's talk about this," he said, desperation lacing his voice.

You looked at him, your heart breaking all over again. "It's too late, Mingi," you responded, trying to keep your resolve strong even as tears streamed down your face. "I'm so sick of pretending everything's alright, that you haven't changed," you continued, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

Mingi stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours, desperation evident in his voice. "What are you talking about? I'm still the same, I’m still your boyfriend who would do anything for you."

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you confronted him. "Are you even aware my birthday was a week ago and you haven't showed up to the party?"

Mingi's face fell, a look of guilt and realization washing over him. "I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry," he stammered, but the damage was already done.

"So no, Mingi, you are not the same. My boyfriend would show up to my birthday party, hell he would organize it himself. And you know what you did that night? You were sitting in a fucking club with your fellow rappers doing God knows what," you spat, the pain in your words cutting through the air. "My boyfriend loved me, he wanted to spend time with me, he cherished me, he would never leave without kissing me and telling me he loves me," you said, your voice cracking. "You are not him."

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions finally seeming to hit him. "I messed up. I know I did, and I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

‘’Sorry is not enough,’ you took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sick and tired of justifying your shitty behavior in front of my parents, our friends, and most definitely myself. Every time they ask me where you are or why you're not around, I must come up with excuses. It's exhausting, and honestly, I'm tired of lying for you."

Mingi's eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I never wanted to let you down. I know I've been distant, but I never stopped loving you."

You shook your head, "You don’t love me, Mingi. Actions speak louder than words, and your actions have clearly shown me where I stand in your life. When was the last time you took me out, huh? When was the last time you asked me how I was doing? When was the last time you made love to me, not just fucked me after your show, huh?" you demanded, each question hitting him like a blow.

Mingi's face crumpled as he absorbed your words. "I didn't realize... I thought you understood how busy I've been," he mumbled, his voice tinged with regret.

"Busy? We all have busy lives. But love means making time, no matter what," you said, wiping away your tears. "I can't keep waiting for you to remember that."

Mingi's tears began to flow freely, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't go. I promise I'll change, I'll make things right," he pleaded, but you could see the doubt in his eyes.

"Since you went viral, you haven't even taken me to your shows, to the afterparties. I don't know your new friends. Do they know about me?" you asked, your voice rising with each word. Mingi's hesitation spoke volumes, and you felt another crack in your already shattered heart. "That's what I thought," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "If they don't know about me, then maybe you don't want them to. Maybe that's why it's easier for you to forget I exist."

Mingi's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "No, it's not like that," he tried to argue, but the conviction in his voice was gone. The silence between you grew heavier, filled with all the things left unsaid over the past months.

"Tell me honestly, now. You're rapping about fucking bitches and maybe that's really what you're doing in those clubs, huh?" you spat, the accusation hanging heavily in the air.

Mingi's face paled, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. "How could you even accuse me of that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and pain. "I would never do something like that to you. You mean everything to me." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, desperation in his eyes. "I swear, it's not what you think. Those lyrics, they're just part of the persona. They don't mean anything."

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing through the silent apartment. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That it's all just an act? Because it doesn't. It just makes me feel like I don't even know who you are anymore," you retorted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You spend all your time with these people, living this life that I'm not a part of. How am I supposed to believe you when you say it's not real?"

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've been distant, but I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you understood how much pressure I'm under," he said, his voice cracking.

"Being under pressure doesn't give you the right to treat me like I don't matter," you shot back, wiping away the tears from your rosy cheeks. "You used to make me feel like I was the most important person in the world. Now, I feel like I'm just another obligation, something you can push aside when it suits you."

Mingi's eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "Please give me a moment, I know what will make you stay," he said, his voice filled with a newfound sense of urgency. Before you could respond, he turned and rushed towards the bedroom. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you listened to the sounds of Mingi frantically ruffling through drawers and opening cabinets. The noise grew louder, punctuated by the occasional clatter of objects being moved aside. After what felt like an eternity, Mingi emerged from the bedroom, his face flushed and his breath heavy. Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, elegant box. He walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours, and with shaking hands, he opened the box to reveal a stunning, custom-made Tiffany engagement ring.

"This... this is what I was waiting for," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I wanted everything to be perfect before I asked you. I know I've messed up, but please, give me one more chance. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Tears welled up in his eyes as he held the ring out to you, his entire being pleading for forgiveness and another chance. You stared at the ring, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to process everything. Mingi took a deep breath and then, in one fluid motion, he dropped to one knee, holding the ring up towards you. His eyes were filled with desperation and hope, the tears streaming down his face reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Y/N please, marry me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've hurt you, but I want to make it right. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you how much you mean to me. Please, give me another chance." You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked down at Mingi, the man you had loved for so long, now kneeling before you with a ring in his hand. The future you have always dreamed of was right there in front of you, and you cried harder at the sight. The ring, a symbol of the life you had envisioned together, glittered in the dim light of the penthouse. It was everything you had ever wanted, yet the weight of the disappointments and heartbreaks made it difficult to embrace. The tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. You couldn't help but think of all the broken promises, the lonely nights, and the feeling of being forgotten. The ring was beautiful, but it couldn't erase the pain that had accumulated over time.

Mingi kneeled there in front of you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, waiting for your response."Now we have enough money to book the beach venue you dreamed of," Mingi started, trying to control his own tears. "I will order you a custom dress from the designer you told me about, inspired by the Disney princess you loved since you were little," he added, his voice trembling with desperation. "And we will go to Belize for our honeymoon," he continued, his words coming out in a rush. "We will rent a whole house by the beach, just like you always wanted. Every morning, we'll wake up to the sound of the waves, and every night, we'll fall asleep under the stars. There won't be a single day when I won't prove to you how much I love you," Mingi's voice cracked, his eyes pleading. "Please, give me another chance. Please marry me. I promise I'll be the man you fell in love with, the one who would move heaven and earth just to see you smile. We’ll make new memories, beautiful ones that will overshadow all the pain I’ve put you through. I swear, I'll spend every moment making it up to you, showing you that my love is real and unwavering. So please, please say yes." The image he painted was truly everything you ever wanted, the plans you made together on countless nights, dreaming of a future filled with love and happiness. The beach venue, the custom dress, the honeymoon in Belize—all of it was exactly what you had envisioned. It was as if he had taken every whispered wish, every secret hope, and turned them into a tangible reality. His words, filled with desperation and promise, tugged at your heartstrings, making you yearn for the life you had once believed was possible. The thought of waking up to the sound of waves, falling asleep under the stars, and creating new, beautiful memories was almost too tempting to resist. In that moment, you saw a glimpse of the life you had always wanted. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment felt almost suffocating, but you knew you had to make a choice. When you opened your eyes again, you looked at Mingi, your voice barely above a whisper,

"I can't," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like shards of glass slicing through the air. You saw the hope in Mingi's eyes flicker and fade, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His shoulders slumped as he dropped completely to the floor, the ring slipping from his grasp and falling to the floor with a loud echo. You heard him cry out in agony, and it broke your heart all over again, shattering it completely. For a moment, the silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and Mingi's soft sobs. You stood there, frozen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a physical force. Every fiber of your being wanted to rush to him, to take back the words and make everything alright, but you knew deep down that it was too late.

Mingi's tears flowed freely now, his face a portrait of anguish. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "I need you. I don't know what I'll do without you."

"I'm so sorry, Mingi," you said, your voice trembling as you took a step back. "I wish things could be different, but I can't keep living like this."

Mingi looked up at you, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "Please, don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't lose you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear."

You shook your head, "It's not about what you can do, Mingi. It's about what you haven't done." With a heavy heart, you turned towards the door, picking up your bags. Each step felt like a thousand, the weight of your decision making it almost unbearable to move. As you reached the door, you paused, looking back at Mingi one last time. The sight of him, broken and pleading, was almost too much to bear. "Goodbye, Mingi," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I hope you come across something more than better, something that brings you true happiness and fulfillment. And I’m so sorry it’s not me." With those final words, you turned the knob and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind you. The echo of the door click reverberated through the empty penthouse, a stark reminder of what you were leaving behind.

eight months later

It was a Saturday evening, and you were lying in your bed, scrolling through TV channels because apparently your best friend forgot to pay for your Netflix subscription. These past months, you were figuring your life out from the base. With your breakup, everything changed. You were now living in a small apartment, shared with two of your friends to make the rent cheaper. You hadn't saved up much while being with Mingi, mainly taking part-time jobs to be available whenever Mingi needed your help with his career—booking a venue, simply helping around with scanning tickets or delivering merch. You used to spend your days running errands and managing small tasks that kept his career afloat, and in return, he assured you that you didn't need to worry about your own income. Then, when the money came, he simply wouldn’t let you work, claiming what was his was yours, and he had more than enough. His generosity was comforting, but it also left you unprepared for the financial independence you now had to face. So apart from dealing with the heartbreak, you’ve also been struggling a bit with a reality without him.

Now, as you lay in your small bedroom, you couldn't help but reflect on how drastically your life had shifted. The luxurious apartment you once shared with Mingi was now a distant memory, replaced by this compact space that you now called home. It was filled with laughter and companionship from your two friends, but it also served as a constant reminder of Mingi’s absence.

The breakup had not only shattered your heart but also forced you to reevaluate your priorities and rebuild your life from scratch. Every day was a struggle to find your footing, to rediscover who you were without Mingi, and to carve out a path for yourself. Despite the challenges, you were slowly learning to embrace this new reality, one step at a time.

After a long search, you finally stumbled upon a music award show where a band you liked was performing, and you found yourself intrigued. A few other performances passed; the MC announced they would reveal the winner for the Album of the Year in the rap category. Despite trying to ignore all updates about Mingi, you knew he had released a new album earlier this year, so seeing him being nominated didn’t surprise you. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as his name was mentioned. You saw him through your TV screen, his hair now cut short and dyed a vibrant pink, a stark contrast to his previous look. His nose was pierced, and you must admit it made him look even hotter. He was wearing a sleek black blazer with nothing underneath, the simplicity of his outfit highlighting his confidence. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his features as handsome as ever, capturing your attention completely. You couldn’t help but smile, a wave of nostalgia and admiration washing over you. Your heart began to beat faster with the excitement and joy of seeing him again.

And of course, Mingi won. You didn’t know exactly why, but you couldn’t help yourself—you clapped your hands enthusiastically. You were so incredibly proud of him and his achievement. With a wide smile on his face, he stood up from his seat, took a deep breath, and confidently hopped on stage. He walked over to the microphone, adjusted it to his height, and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, everyone," Mingi began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This album means the world to me, and it wouldn't have been possible without the incredible team behind me and the fans who have supported me through everything." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to dedicate this award to someone very special to me, someone who was with me since my early days." Mingi's words hung in the air, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You knew he was talking about you. The memories of your time together, the sacrifices you made, and the dreams you shared all came rushing back. Despite the pain and heartbreak, a part of you was deeply touched by his acknowledgment. He continued, "I know I've made mistakes, and I've hurt the only person I have ever loved. But this album represents a journey of growth and redemption. It's about learning from those mistakes and becoming a better person." The audience applauded, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of emotions Mingi's speech had stirred within you. You couldn't help but wonder if he truly had changed, if he had finally realized the impact of his actions. As the applause died down, Mingi took a step back, holding the award close to his chest. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes seemingly searching for yours through the screen. "You know," Mingi continues, "this special person told me that since I gained popularity, I’ve been only rapping about fucking bitches, and she hated that." Mingi smiled and looked at the award in his hands. "So, with this album, I came back to my roots, to lyrics that truly mattered and reflect who I am." As the applause echoed around him, Mingi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the emotions they carried. He remembered the countless nights he spent writing, the struggles he faced, and the moments of doubt. "I don’t know where she’s at now, what she’s doing," he paused, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret "I wanted to be a man and respect her decision to leave me, so I never reached out." His voice cracked, the weight of his words sinking in "Because the truth is she deserves way better than me." He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears "I don’t even know if this will reach her, but if it does, I just want her to know that I still, very much love her." A tear finally escaped, rolling down his cheek "And that life without her is shit." He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. He glanced around, seeing familiar faces of fellow artists and friends who knew his story then he looked straight at the camera. "So, to my ex, to the one I prayed to end up with, thank you for breaking my heart. This one is for you." He raised his award and bowed. As he left the stage, you couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. The love you once shared was still there, buried beneath the pain and heartbreak, but his words made you wonder if there might still be a chance for redemption and healing. You sat there, stunned and overwhelmed, tears streaming down your face. The raw emotion in Mingi's speech had reopened old wounds, but it also made you question if there was a possibility for a new beginning.

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn't notice when the cameras started to broadcast live from backstage. An elegant reporter, dressed in a chic green dress, stood waiting with a microphone in hand. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spotted Mingi approaching, clutching his award tightly. She greeted him with a warm smile and a nod, gesturing for him to join her on a plush, cream-colored couch set up for the interview. As Mingi took his seat next to her, the reporter's smile widened. "Congratulations, Mingi, on your incredible win tonight!" she began, her voice smooth and professional. "How does it feel to take home the Album of the Year award?"

Mingi took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "It feels surreal," he admitted, his voice slightly hoarse from the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced on stage. "This album was a labor of love and a journey of self-discovery. Winning this award means the world to me."

The reporter nodded; her expression empathetic. "You've mentioned that this album, Empty Box, holds a lot of personal significance. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind it?"

"The title of the album, Empty Box, symbolizes a metaphorical space where I have placed all the love I couldn’t give, oh god I hate to call her that but, to my ex-girlfriend." Mingi's eyes welled up with tears, and he swallowed hard. "It encompasses not just the love, but also our unfulfilled dreams, the cherished memories we created together, and the mistakes we made along the way." He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, his emotions visibly overwhelming him. This album reflects my journey, regrets, and lessons I've learned. Each song is a chapter of that story, a piece of my heart that I hope resonates with those who listen." He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he continued, "I wanted to create something that speaks to the pain of losing someone you love, the guilt of not being able to give them what they deserve, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, we can all find a way to heal from our past mistakes." Mingi's eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and determination as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes searching for a connection with those who might be watching. "To anyone out there who feels like they've messed up, like they've lost their way, I want you to know that you're not alone. We all make mistakes, we all have regrets, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to move forward. This album is my way of reaching out, of saying that it's okay to feel broken, it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to hope for a better tomorrow."

The reporter nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of Mingi's words. "Thank you for sharing such a personal journey with us, Mingi. Your honesty and vulnerability are truly inspiring." She paused for a moment, letting his words resonate with the audience. "What's next for you? Are there any upcoming projects or plans you'd like to share?"

Mingi took a deep breath, a small smile breaking through his tear-streaked face. "Right now, I just want to take some time to reflect and reconnect with myself. But I promise, there's more music to come, and I hope to continue growing both as an artist and as a person."

The reporter's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in slightly. "Is this album some type of closure for you? Are you ready to go out there and find love again? I bet there's plenty of girls, or guys who would die to have a chance with you."

Mingi took a moment to reflect, his eyes distant. "In many ways, this album has been therapeutic for me. It's allowed me to process my emotions and come to terms with my past. As for finding love again, I think it's important for me to focus on healing and personal growth first. Love is a beautiful thing, but it requires a strong foundation."

The reporter nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Thank you for your honesty, Mingi. Your journey is truly inspiring, and I'm sure your fans appreciate your openness."

Mingi smiled back, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thank you. I'm grateful for the support." With that, the interview concluded, and Mingi stood up, shaking the reporter's hand before walking away. As the camera panned out, you turned off the TV, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. And you knew you needed to see him again. You've been staying strong since you left him, but now, the wall crashed down and you couldn't stop your racing heart, you couldn't prioritize your mind screaming at you not to do it. The memories of your time together flooded back with an overwhelming force, each one more vivid than the last. The late-night conversations, the shared dreams, the laughter, and even the fights—they all played in your mind like an old movie reel. Despite the pain and the heartbreak, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, a love that had been buried but never truly extinguished. Your emotions were a tangled mess, a mix of longing, fear, hope, and regret. You thought about the life you once envisioned with him, the future that seemed so bright and full of promise. Would it still be possible? Could you find a way to rebuild what was broken, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long? As you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew that you couldn't ignore these feelings. It was as if something was pushing you towards him, giving you a nudge to take a step towards reconciliation. The thought of seeing him again both terrified and excited you, but you knew that you had to follow your heart. With trembling hands, you picked up your phone and stared at the screen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Should you call him? Text him? Show up at his door? You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and made your decision. You were going to see him.

You run to your closet, your heart racing with anticipation and anxiety. You put on a hoodie as the autumn air was getting colder, layered a denim jacket on top for extra warmth, and decided to go. Living on the opposite side of the city now, getting to Mingi's place would take more than an hour, but you didn't mind the long journey. As you left your room, one of your roommates looked at you, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"So, I guess you heard the speech?" she asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You could feel the pride welling up inside you, making you even more determined to reach Mingi and share your feelings with him.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need to see him."

"Honey, I know you want to, but don't forget why you left him in the first place," she said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You were heartbroken and exhausted. It took so much strength for you to walk away and start rebuilding your life." She paused, her expression softening. "I understand that his speech stirred up a lot of emotions, but please, think carefully about this. Remember all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, all the broken promises. Just don't lose sight of why you made the decision to leave. You deserve to be happy and to find someone who truly values and respects you."

You nodded, taking her words to heart. "I know, and I won't forget. But I need to know if things can be different now. It's just, I am so proud of him, and I just wish he knew that" you whispered to your roommate, your voice filled with a mix of hope and determination. Your roommate, who had been silently listening, came closer, her eyes reflecting concern and empathy. "I know we've been through so much, and the pain was unbearable at times. But seeing him up there, pouring his heart out, made me realize that a part of me still cares deeply for him. I can't ignore these feelings. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling hurt and abandoned, but maybe he's changed. Maybe he's truly learned from his mistakes. I need to see for myself if there's a chance for us to rebuild what we once had, to heal together and find a way back to each other."

Your friend reached out, gently squeezing your hand, her touch offering a silent reassurance. Her eyes softened as she spoke, "I understand why you feel this way. It's not easy to let go of someone you love, especially when there's still a part of you that believes in him. But you need to be sure that he's really changed, that he's willing to put in the effort to make things right this time."

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wish he understood that despite everything, I don't hold any grudges. I want him to know that I forgive him and that I'm willing to give him another chance if he's ready to make things right." Your voice trembled slightly, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to speak.

Your roommate gave you a warm, encouraging smile. "You have a big heart, and it's clear that you still care about him deeply. Just make sure you protect yourself too. If he's really changed, he'll show you through his actions, not just words. Take it one step at a time and trust your instincts. You deserve to be happy, and if giving him another chance feels right to you, then follow your heart." Her words offered a sense of comfort and clarity, helping to ease the turmoil inside you. You took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of hope.

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I need to do this for myself, to know if there's still a chance for us." With that, you hugged your best friend and stepped out into the autumn night.

The journey to Mingi's place felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. As the bus drew closer to his building, you couldn't help but feel a surge of doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartache? But the memory of Mingi's heartfelt speech and the love you still felt for him pushed you forward.

When you finally arrived, you stood outside his door, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. With a trembling hand, you knocked, the sound echoing through the hallway. To your surprise, the door is opened by an elderly man, dressed in an elegant suit. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees you standing there. "Good evening, sir," you say hesitantly, trying to mask your confusion. "I’m sorry for the late visit but I'm here to see Mingi. Is he already back?" The man's expression shifts from surprise to bewilderment.

"I'm sorry," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of confusion. "But I believe you have the wrong address. Nobody by the name of Mingi lives here." He looks at you sympathetically, as if trying to help you figure out your mistake.

Your heart sank, and you felt a wave of confusion wash over you. "But this was his address," you murmured, feeling lost.

The elderly man gave you a kind smile, "I moved in here few months ago, maybe he was a previous owner of this apartment?"

Your heart sank even further as you realized that Mingi had moved. "Thank you," you said softly, turning away from the door, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. As you walked back to the bus stop, the doubt began to creep in again. Maybe meeting with him would be a mistake? The universe seemed to be throwing obstacles in your path, as if trying to tell you something. Perhaps it was a sign that some things are better left in the past, that moving forward meant leaving certain chapters closed. You couldn't help but think about all the reasons you left in the first place, the pain and the heartbreak that led you to this very moment. Was it worth reopening old wounds for a chance that things might be different? As you boarded the bus, you decided to give it one last shot, you took your phone out. You scrolled through your contacts and found Mingi's number, your finger hovering over the call button. Taking a deep breath, you pressed it and held the phone to your ear, your heart pounding as it began to ring. After a few moments, you heard a familiar message on the other end, "The number you have dialed no longer exists."

The automated message echoed in your ear, a stark reminder of the distance that now separated you from Mingi. You pulled the phone away, staring at the screen in disbelief. How could it be? You had been so certain that reaching out to him was the right thing to do, but now, it felt like the universe was conspiring against you. You tried calling again, but the same message played, confirming that Mingi's number had indeed been disconnected. A sense of finality washed over you, making the reality of the situation sink in even deeper. It felt as if a door had been firmly closed, leaving you standing on the outside, unable to reach the person you once held so dear. As you sat back on the bus, the city lights blurring past the window, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Disappointment, sadness, and a lingering sense of what could have been. The memories of your time together replayed in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. Deep down, you knew that this might be the universe's way of telling you to let go, to move forward with your life. With a heavy heart, you put your phone away and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath. As the bus continued its route, you gazed out at the city, the lights flickering like distant stars.

six months later

You just started your shift; the day was going to be long and tiring. With holidays fast approaching, people were buzzing to buy new goods. You were working as a manager in one of the luxury shopping centers, a position that demanded a great deal of patience and resilience. The opulence of the surroundings was a stark contrast to the stress that came with the job. The elegant displays and high-end brands attracted a clientele that was demanding and often indifferent to the staff's efforts. Managing a team in such an environment was no small feat. You had to ensure that everything ran smoothly, from inventory management to customer service. The rich customers, with their endless requests and high expectations, often tested the limits of your endurance. They seemed to suck the life out of you, leaving you drained by the end of the day. Yet, you couldn't afford to show any signs of fatigue. Your role required you to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, addressing complaints with a smile and ensuring that every shopper left satisfied. The holiday season only amplified the challenges. The influx of customers meant longer hours and heightened pressure. Each day felt like a marathon, with waves of shoppers flooding in, eager to make their purchases. The store was a hive of activity, with sales associates rushing to assist customers, restock shelves, and manage transactions. Amidst the chaos, you had to keep a watchful eye, ready to step in whenever issues arose.

You were on your way to the staff area to take a break for lunch, feeling exhausted from the busy morning shift. The holiday rush had turned the shopping center into a whirlwind of activity, and you were grateful for a brief break. Just as you were about to reach the staff area, one of your co-workers called out your name. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating another request or issue that needed your immediate attention. With a deep breath, you turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a polite smile.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but we have a situation that requires your expertise. There's a particularly demanding customer, and the supervisor has tried everything but just can't seem to handle it. She asked me to find you because we really need your help with this. Would you mind stepping in to assist? I know you're on your way to lunch, but it would mean a lot to us."

You sighed internally, knowing that this was part of the job. "Alright, lead the way," you replied, forcing a reassuring smile. Following your co-worker, you mentally prepared yourself for yet another challenging interaction, hoping that it wouldn't take too long so you could finally enjoy your much-needed break.

She led you to one of the private dressing rooms. From a distance, you could hear a female voice demanding something from her, you supposed, boyfriend. "Oh baby, what do you think about this one?" you heard as you approached the door. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the voice that responded—it was Mingi. You stopped in your tracks, your mind racing. The reality of seeing him again, and with someone new, hit you like a ton of bricks. But you took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and pushed forward, opening the door to the dressing room. Inside, you saw Mingi standing next to a woman who was examining herself in the mirror, holding up an elegant dress. The room was filled with an awkward tension as Mingi's eyes met yours. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the memories of your past flooding back with a vivid intensity.

Mingi's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of emotions—confusion, regret, and perhaps a hint of longing. The woman, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, continued to admire herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and waiting for Mingi's opinion.

You felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. He was here, standing before you, after so much time had passed. Memories of your time together flooded back, each one more vivid and overwhelming than the last. You had to swallow hard and clench your fist to keep the act up, to maintain your composure in front of him and his new girlfriend. The mix of emotions inside you—shock, longing, regret—threatened to break through, but you knew you had to stay professional. This was your job, your life now, and you couldn't let the past disrupt it. "Excuse me madam, I’m a manager here," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Is there anything I can assist you with?"

"Oh yes, we've been looking forward to buying the limited-edition shoes from the new collection," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

You took a deep breath at her words, trying to maintain your professionalism. "I'm really sorry to inform you about this, as my coworker already told you, madam, the shoes I believe you are referring to are only available for special order."

Her enthusiasm faltered slightly, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Special order? Is there any way we can place one now?"

"Unfortunately, the special-order period for those shoes has already ended," you explained gently. "They were available for a limited time, and we are currently out of stock. However, we do have a selection of other exclusive items that might interest you."

You caught Mingi's eyes boring into you, his face pale and expression frozen. He stood still, as if rooted to the spot, and he seemed to not even breathe. The intensity of his gaze sent a wave of emotions crashing over you, each one more overwhelming than the last. You felt your eyes watering, a rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the tears and maintain your composure. This was neither the time nor the place to let your feelings show, but the sight of him, so close yet so distant, made it nearly impossible to hold back the tide of emotions.

The girl in front of you sighed, clearly disheartened by the news. Mingi, sensing her disappointment, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right," he said softly. "Let's take a look at what else they have. I'm sure you can find something you'll love."

She turned to you with a sharp expression, her tone shifting to one of impatience. "Do you even know who my boyfriend is?’’

You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile despite the tension. "Yes, madam, I'm well aware. Please allow me to show you some other exclusive items that might catch your interest."

"Baby, won't you do something about it?" She once again turned to Mingi, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, but his eyes never left yours, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably, his eyes meeting his girlfriend for a brief moment before he turned to you again. "I'll see what I can do," he said softly, trying to soothe her.

You took a deep breath, gathering your professionalism. "As I mentioned earlier, the special-order period has ended, and we are out of stock for the limited-edition shoes. However, if you'd like, I can take your contact information and notify you if any new limited editions become available in the future."

The woman sighed, clearly not satisfied, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, let's do that then." She handed you her information, and you quickly jotted it down, aware of Mingi's gaze still lingering on you.

"Thank you for your understanding," you said, handing back her details. "Is there anything else I can assist you with today?"

She shook her head, her disappointment evident. "No, that's all. Come on, baby, let's go." As they turned to leave, Mingi hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours one last time. You could see the unspoken words and the regret in his gaze, you silently hoped he would say something, anything. You gave him a small, professional nod, and without a word, he turned away, following his girlfriend out of the dressing room. Once they were gone, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

You realized that the man you loved was no more. Instead, you met with someone who wore his face, who had his voice. Someone who was a stranger. The warmth that once radiated from his eyes was now replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. It was as if time had reshaped him into a different person, one that you could no longer recognize. The memories of your past seemed like a cruel illusion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again. You realized with a heavy heart that the essence of the man you fell in love with had faded, leaving behind a mere shadow of who he used to be.

Don't talk to strangers, they say, or you might fall in love. And when that love fades, those familiar faces turn into strangers once more. The irony of it all stung deeply. The very person who once knew you inside and out had become an enigma, a puzzle with pieces that no longer fit. As you watched him walk away, hand in hand with someone new, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The man you once knew, the man you once loved, was gone. And in his place stood a stranger who bore his likeness but none of the familiarity.

The journey of love had taken you full circle, bringing you back to a place of solitude and reflection. The lessons learned were etched deeply into your soul, a testament to the transient nature of relationships. You couldn't help but wonder if you would ever recognize that familiar face again, or if he would forever remain a stranger, a fleeting memory in the tapestry of your life.

#mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #mingi angst #mingi fanfiction #mingi one shot #mingi fic #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #mingi lovers to strangers #goes to waste the series

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unforth · 5 months ago

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Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

#unforth rambles

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kanmom51 · 7 months ago

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Bringing back Only then

I've been missing Jikook so very much and watching song edits, cause why not, right?

And Only then, that is one that is on repeat for me.

JK's cover of this song is so damn good.

And I'm sitting there eating my breakfast (tmi of the day?) and watching the edit and reading the lyrics again and it just clicks in my brain.

Obviously those lyrics and JK's choice to cover the song and his unbelievably emotional singing that just draws you in is not something new. This song meant something to him, way back in 2018. Let's not forget that he released his cover for White day 2018, surprise surprise. Yeah, White day. We know what he was doing on White day 2023...

March 2018, following Jikook's Tokyo trip. March 2018, when members were rethinking if, what, where and how to continue as BTS, as artists.

This one wasn't written by him, but it sure meant A LOT to him!!!

Those lyrics.

They meant everything back then in 2018.

But now. In 2024. Looking back at the two of them, and even more so at the last 3 years, these words, they hit me like a freight train.

The lyrics.

Their past.

Their present.

Their future.

The way to love me isn’t hard Just hold me tight like you are now

We don’t know what will happen to us later But I like that nothing’s decided

Who cares what others say? We can’t live without each other, so what’s the problem? We can be more in love together

I can't...

These lines hit even harder now that we know what they went through in 2023 (well, part of what they went through, but we did see on live just how affected JK was), and to what lengths they went to not be separated during their military service.

But this isn't the end of it.

Because the next lines repeat that sentiment.

If you start to like someone else If I get used to not being with you When that time comes, when it’s that time Only then we can break up

And obviously, that ain't happening any time soon.

Nope, not happening...

Not at all.

Oh, and back to this again...

This song, it's lyrics, they just hit so hard.

The way to love you isn’t hard If I smile once more and care for you more

Clip credit to @ nuri நூரி

The way we love isn’t hard If we look at each other like it’s the first time every time

Whether you want it or not, I’m going to hold onto you When I get too tired that I can’t even walk When that time comes, when it’s that time Only then we can break up Only then we can break up

Now I am definitley ugly crying. Bawling my eyes out.

I miss them so much.

😭😭

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #JK #JK covers #Jimin #JM #Jikook hugs #Jikook enlisted together #Only then JK

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samoankpoper21 · 5 months ago

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Drunken Confession - Suna Rintarou

Summary: Suna's best friend is going on a date. How will he react?

Content warnings: cursing, suggestive smut, alcohol use...can't think of anything else

A/N: Y'all I have been stuck on Suna for quite some time now, it amplified more after reading this one fic where he's a tattoo artist who pines over his plus size friend and the way the author wrote him is exactly how I picture him and it was just truly a work of art aslkdfalkdsj I've posted the link so please check out their work!! So good! Anyway I decided to do a slight twist to my drunken confession series^^ this time it's you receiving the confession^^ As always reader is chubby!/poc! and switches between using the Kansai accent. Enjoy~!!

"I always thought you and Rintarou were gonna be a thing." You nearly spit out your water at your mom's declaration.

"What the hell mom."

"Whaaat I'm being serious. He's a nice boy. It drove your dad and I crazy watching you two dance around each other. To this day it's still driving us crazy! When are y'all gonna get together?" Chuckling you remind your mom, "Have you seen his exes? They're all skinnier than me and besides back in high school I mean I knew I looked good but I don't think he would've wanted to date someone who's way darker than him and heavier than him."

"Now you're just playin' stupid."

"Oh geez thanks mom."

"Your dad and I see the way he looked at you back then and now. He got a thing for you honey so why not pursue it?" You began to chew on your bottom lip. The thought of being with Suna has crossed your mind numerous of times. From the moment you two met in high school ungraciously - he approached you asking how much you weighed because you were now his motivation for his weight lifting pr - til now you found him attractive, even more so with the addition of his tattoos and piercings.

"I don't know ma, I literally came over here to vent to you about how boring my date was."

"You know how you could get over another man?" your dad quipped from his place on the couch in the living room.

"How dad?"

"Find another one."

"Really dad!"

"That's what he told your brother all the time." your mom say shaking her head. Rising from his seat from the couch your dad finally joined the both of you in the kitchen, one arm snaking around your mother's plump waist, the other grabbing a fresh blueberry muffin your mom just put out. "Babe those are hot!" your mom scolded him.

"Not as hot as you."

"Ew save the bedroom talk."

"Look dear," your mom continued trying to hide her blush. Years later you still found it endearing how enamored the two of them were with one another. "It doesn't hurt to try. Text him and say you're going on a date, see what his response is."

Throwing your keys in the cup you began gnawing at your lip. You hated lying to Suna and you knew he would throw a fit considering that Fridays are reserved for the both of you but you were dying to confirm you parent's - and possibly your - suspicions.

Y/N: Sunaroooooooouuuuuuu

Sunarouuu <3: what

Y/N: ugh a little less sass would be nice???!!!

Sunarouuu <3: wHAT

Y/N: -_- Y/N: whatevs Y/N: anyway I gotta date today asdfkjl

Sunarouuu <3: And you're telling me because...???

Y/N: You know I'd appreciate it if you were a bit more happy for me 😥 Y/N: anyway he's taking me out tonight at around 7ish

Sunarouuu <3: breh u know fridays r our days da fuck

Y/N: I know I know I'll make it up 2 u next week I swear 🙏🏾😭

Sunarouuu <3: yer lucky the boys wanted to hang out 2nite

Y/N: 🫶🏾

Suna groaned his fists covering his eyes. "Fucking shit."

"Uh oh," Aran asked. "What happened?"

"Looks like I'm drinkin' with ya tonight."

"Whaaat? Y/N finally dumped ya?"

"Shut the fuck up Miya." Kita rounded the corner smacking Atsumu behind the head, Osamu giving Kita a thumbs up. "Stop teasing Suna. What happened? What'd she say?"

"She got a date or some shit like that." Sighing Kita advised, "Why don't you tell her how you feel? How you've always felt."

"Because fuuuck it'll just mess up our whole dynamic."

"Doesn't hurt to try. You can't get mad at the situation if you haven't even tried to change it."

"I hate it when yer right." he grumbled.

"Anyway I'm about to head home."

"Aw come on Kita ya should drink with us. We're drinkin' to celebrate Suna's rejection." Just as quickly as those words left Atsumu's mouth he dodged his head from the object that flew towards him. Kita shook his head chuckling. "Unlike you guys I have someone to go home to."

"Yer not talkin' bout your stupid dog are ya?"

"Keep it up Tsumu and I'll let Suna kill you for real this time." Holding his hands up in mock surrender he laughed bidding Kita a good evening.

Suna slammed down the shot glass, his cheeks red his head spinning. "Maybe ya should slow down" Aran fretted. "You've been knocking back shot after shot."

"Ya don't understand."

"Here he goes again." Atsumu mumbled under his breath. Ignoring him Suna continued. "I really really like her."

"So why haven't ya told her?" Osamu asked.

"Dunno. Scared I guess."

"Of what? From what I see she's been holdin' back too ya know."

"Really?"

"Oi yer hopeless."

Groaning you awoke to a flurry of knocks and bangs at your apartment door. Picking up your phone you saw that it was nearing 3AM with a bunch of missed call and text notifications from Osamu, Aran and Suna. Frowning you trudged your way to the door swinging it open to see Osamu and a very drunk Suna with his head down, arm slung over Osamu. "Samu? Hi what-"

"Yer apartment was the closest to the bar and he wouldn't stop tellin' me to drop him here." Ushering Osamu to hand him over you chuckle, "I don't mind. Why'd he drink so much anyway?" Osamu stiffened at your question before replying, "I'll let him explain. Anyway thanks for takin' care of him. See ya later."

"Bye Samu and thanks!" Flicking the lights on you turned to admire how beautiful Suna looked in his drunken state: his cheeks painted a dark shade of red contrasting against his skin tone, his chapped lips, and yellow grayish eyes that abruptly shot open. "Y/N?"

"Samu dropped you off here, told him that you didn't want to go home." Groaning he quipped, "Didn't mean to ruin yer date."

"You didn't."

"I think ima head home." Frowning you scold, "Suna Rintarou, how the hell are you gonna go home in that state?"

"What if yer date sees-"

"There is no date sheesh just stay here."

"I don't wanna ruin-"

"Rin, I'm telling you to stay." Staring at you intently he reluctantly agreed. Helping him remove his shoes you drape his left arm over your much shorter shoulder, your right arm hooking itself around his waist. "Come on ya big lug let's get you to bed. Lord knows yer gonna have a massive hangover." Leading him to your bedroom you gently sit him on your bed, one hand hanging onto him, the other reaching for the water bottle on your nightstand. You giggled as you watched him sway to and fro with his eyes closed. Grabbing 4 ibuprofen you smashed them into small pieces dropping it into the water bottle praying that he doesn't choke or spit it out. "Rin," you gently shake him. "Rin."

"Hm?" his eyes slowly peeled open, he gulped taking in your black spaghetti strap that hugged your full breasts and tummy and the short pink shorts that stopped atop your thick melanated thighs. Stooping in front of him he blushed at the dirty thoughts running through his mind as you got on your knees. "I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me?" Exhaling slowly he looked at the bottle in your hand and grimaced. "Water?"

"If you don't hydrate yer gonna wake up with a really bad hangover. Come on Rin do it for me. Please?" Gulping again he could feel his face heating up at the position you were in: you peering up at him through your lashes, pleading, had his cock straining in his pants. If only you knew how much power you had over him. The word please, the way you uttered it would make him burn the world if it made you happy. "Fine." you smiled unscrewing the cap to the bottle bringing it to his lips. Maintaining eye contact with you he opened his mouth letting the cool stream of water slide down his throat, his adam's apple bobbing up and down. Once the water was finished you lay him down gently draping the covers over his much too tall frame. As you were about to head out he grabbed your wrist. "Where ya goin'?"

"I was gonna sleep on the couch."

"The fuck just sleep here."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Surprised by his strength despite his inebriated state you squeaked when he pulled you to him, your head crashing into his chest. Letting out a sigh of relief Suna pulled you tighter into his embrace, his leg wrapping itself around you as he began petting your head. Blushing you wished you could act on your desire but knew otherwise. Clearing your throat you tentatively ask, "Rin?"

"Hm?"

"What happened? Why'd you drink so much today?"

"Cuz of yer stupid date."

"Wha-"

"I like you so much Y/N. Hell," he chuckles. "I think I'm in love with ya. Yer so smart and beyond beautiful but it's not just physical attraction with ya, I like yer whole being. I can't see you with anyone else so when ya told me ya had a date fuck I don't know my heart just really hurt ya know."

"You like me Rin?"

"Since I first saw you in high school." With tears in your eyes you peered up to see that he had fallen asleep.

Groaning awake Suna's eyes slowly peeled open taking in his surroundings. Oh it's Y/N's room. What a weird dream. Closing his eyes again he snuggled into your warmth inhaling your scent releasing a sigh of relief. This is probably one of the best dreams I've ever had with Y/N in it. I hope I can sleep a bit longer. It feels so real. Stiffening his eyes shot open when he felt you wriggle closer to his hard on. "Fuck," he hissed out trying to recollect last night's events; attempting to pry his arms from around you you whined scooting back closer to him, pulling his arms around you again. "Y/N," his morning voice caused you to internally shiver. "Hm?"

"Ya awake?" Slowly sitting up you lifted your arms above your head stretching letting out a yawn, Suna gulping at your erect nipples as you slowly began rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Fuck I'm sorry I don't know what or how-"

"Rin-"

"Look I understand if ya hate me-"

"Rin-"

"Or don't wanna talk to me-"

"Rin.ta.rou."

"But if I made ya feel uncomfortable-"

"You've never made me feel uncomfortable. Not once, not ever." Silence cascaded around you both, both of you scared to break the moment. Inhaling deeply you gently ask, "What do you remember about last night?"

"Fuck I just remember we went to the bar, I drank way more than I shoulda and...now that I think about it I don't feel hung over." Chuckling you respond with, "I crushed 4 ibuprofen and put it in your water." Dramatically gasping, Suna clutching a hand over his heart he says, "You've drugged me? How bold of you Y/N."

"Thank you for making sure I don't wake up with a really bad hangover would've sufficed the fuck." A comfortable silence settled when you tentatively ask, hands fidgeting avoiding his gaze, "D-do you remember what you said? What we talked about?" Gawd Suna wanted to smack his head against the wall, hell he was even willing to let Atsumu do it too for the sake of remembering. Awkwardly chuckling you mutter, "Doesn't matter if ya don't remember. I mean you drank a lot anyway." His chest hurt at seeing you hurt trying to hide the pain by cracking jokes. He cuffed your wrist gently. "Y/N." Biting your lip willing yourself not to cry he gently cupped your chin angling your head to look at him. "Please tell me what we talked about."

"Nah I'll let you suffer. Real fucked up how I'm the only one that remembers."

"That's unfair, one of us wasn't in a clear state of mind."

"Touche." Taking a shaky deep breath you whisper, "Y-you told me you drank because of me b-but the truth is I didn't have a date last night. I only said that to confirm my parents' suspicions."

"Which is?"

"That you l-liked me. But it's okay! I understand if you don't!"

"Gawd yer stupid." Pulling you against him his head bent down slotting his lips against yours, the fit perfect. You whimpered when you felt his big hand slide underneath your tank top sliding up your back. Pulling back both of you gasping for air he leaned forward so that your foreheads were touching. "I've liked you since high school. I didn't wanna ruin what we had, what we built so I kept dating all these girls in hopes of trying to forget you but it didn't fucking work. I kept comparing them to you how their smiles never lit up likes yours, how they didn't like to read, how they weren't you and it wasn't until the boys called me out on it where I finally realized that I have fallen helplessly in love with you."

"Damn," you smirk. "You were down bad for me huh?"

"Shut up." he groaned before yanking your hair back exposing your neck pressing and sucking wet heated kisses along your neck. "I-I like you too." Pausing his ministrations he pulled back to look at you with warmth in his eyes. Mustering up more courage you continue with, "Hell I think I love you." Smiling you lean forward to capture his lips in a passionate kiss when you gently push against his chest, straddling him, his hands instinctively finding purchase on your plump hips, his fingers squeezing the chubby flesh. Quirking an eyebrow up he watched as you slowly lifted the tank top over your head, his eyes darkening. "Rin, let me make it up to you, for all our lost time."

©ALL WORKS BELONG TO SAMOANKPOPER21; ANY INFRINGEMENT OR PLAGIARISM WILL BE REPORTED!! DO NOT STEAL MY WORK!!

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strangemaleswaps · 10 months ago

Text

Strange Job Swap

“Oh it's beautiful!” exclaimed the customer waiting in line. I handed her a nicely decorated cake for her son's birthday.

“It's no big deal. Just doing my job.” I acted like it was no big deal, but really I was gladly accepting the praise!

“This is perfect though. Have you considered being an artist?” she replied with a slightly more serious look.

“Yes I have actually…but the job market is tough.”

“Aww you'll get there eventually! Don't give up! Well anyway, you made my day so for that, thank you!”

“You're welcome.” I was a bit sad though, because she was right; I SHOULD be an artist. I recently earned my bachelor's degree, but yet I was still stuck in this dumb hick town, working as a grocery store cake decorator. I may have been good at what I do but I wouldn't want to do it forever!

At least my co-workers are pretty decent, especially my fellow bakery buddies, Chase, Amber, and Domingo. Amber was cool and didn't take anyone’s shit, which is why I loved seeing her because I didn't have much confidence when dealing with unruly customers. Domingo was very sweet, and even though he didn't speak very good English, he's hella good at his job. And Chase, well…he's hot! His bleach blond hair somehow always caught the light at a perfect angle. I don't know how I even kept my focus when he's working next to me.

At the end of my shift, I clocked out, and decided to buy a couple groceries like I normally did. I scanned everything at the self-checkout, put the receipt into one of my bags, and started walking towards the exit. The store had 2 exits on either side of the front, but I only took one because the other had a certain asshole at it - Richard.

The greeter position was removed a long time ago, but they bring it back for employees that have been injured or are too old, so that they can keep their jobs. Now this old guy named Richard had surgery a long time ago and became the greeter while he recovered. But yet he never went back to his old position.

He always stays at one specific entrance, and the reason I hated him so much was because he's racist. Part of his job has him checking customers’ receipts to make sure they didn't steal anything, which seems pretty unnecessary when you have those anti-theft machines at the exit. But I've seen him. The only people he checks the receipts for are minorities. It's not a subtle thing either; he’s super friendly, greeting and saying goodbye to all the white people passing but when it comes to someone who's not, his demeanor suddenly changes.

My luck must've run out today, because I found the sliding glass doors at my usual exit were broken and currently being fixed. The area was blocked off by a barricade, and I knew there was only one other way to leave. I headed over to the other exit, and there Richard was, waving goodbye to a white mother and her toddler. He was wearing his typical gray uniform shirt that was clearly too small, because you could see his gut and nipples trying to poke through. Gross.

I moved through the aisle, trying not to draw attention to myself, but it was all for nothing because right on cue, Richard walked up to me and gave a great big (and so obviously fake) smile.

“Hello sir, can I see your receipt please?”

“Richard, it's me, Marco. I work in the bakery. You've seen me a million times before.” His smile suddenly faded, and his eyes narrowed, as if every ounce of happiness in his body just vanished.

“That's no excuse. How do I know you aren't stealing?”

“Because I want to keep my job?”

“Don't backtalk to me. You seem awfully suspicious today.” He then reached for his walkie talkie and started to page a manager. I really was able to walk out with no repercussions because I truly didn't steal anything, but there's a chance he would page the Asset Protection lady, who was almost as awful.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nobody answered him. Thank god.

“Am I free to go now?” I said happily. The anger returned to his face.

“Just don't let me catch you stealing again. Or there'll be consequences!”

“Yeah…suuuure.” I walked out the door, into my car, and back home. I can't believe some people honestly. I was so sick of this town! I needed to move away real soon.

When I got home my dog, Kenny, was excited to greet me as usual so I let him outside to do his business while I got into my running clothes, prepping for a run. As I let Kenny back in, I went to check the mail and found a weird envelope in between the bills and spam. I opened it up and it was a letter addressed “to whom it may concern”. I threw it away without a second thought but Kenny suddenly ran up to the trash can, took it out, and placed it back in front of me.

“You really want me to read this, don't you boy?” I said cheerily as I patted him on the head.

“To whom it may concern,

Are you struggling with your current job? Unhappy with the life you have? Well I have just the cure for that! We are now selling happiness inducing coins for only $1 with free shipping! One flip of this coin will guarantee you will soon get a job you love! Get it fast before it all runs out! Just follow the link on the back of this letter if you are interested.” - VV

I wondered who or what VV was supposed to be, and $1 with free shipping sounds too good to be true, so this seemed like a scam. I also wasn't a superstitious person, but for some reason my gut was telling me that this was a good idea. Kenny seemed to think so too as he was wagging his tail under the table and I read. I followed the link listed on the back of the page, typing in each random letter and number combination into my phone and ordered the lucky coin. I went to bed that night feeling a little more hopeful.

The next day at work was just like the previous day, only the door was fixed so I didn't have to walk out the exit Richard was standing at. We did make eye contact though, and he shot me a dirty look. I got home to find that the package had already arrived, which was awfully quick. I cut open the box and inside was a golden coin with a picture of a brain on it. The other side had a picture of a person with their arms spread wide. It was a really weird design. I read the instructions.

How to use:

Flip the coin

No matter what side it lands on, you'll be guaranteed happiness in your new job!

It sounded so lame, but I followed the instructions anyway. I flipped the coin the air, and slapped it on the back of my other hand. Tails. Nothing happened. I guess it was just $1 so it wasn't a huge waste of my time. It's pretty cool looking so maybe I could display it on my dresser or something.

I felt especially tired the rest of the night, but I was fine because I had a day off tomorrow. I was gonna go to the park with Kenny, as well as do a few errands. I was just glad I had time away from my job.

The next morning my alarm went off for some reason. I must've accidently set it by mistake. The weirder thing was Kenny wasn't there. Normally at the sound of my alarm, he comes running from wherever he was sleeping, and jumps on the bed to get me up. But there was nothing. When I started to truly wake up and become more alert, I realized that my alarm was set to the default or something. Instead of my usual calming piano, it was an annoying ringing. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. My vision was blurry, but I could tell I wasn't in my own room.

What happened? Did someone kidnap me? The alarm clock wasn't even on a phone, but rather it was an actual alarm clock. I had no idea what was going on, but I reached over to turn it off so I could think. I'm certain I must've been kidnapped somehow but why? And why would they set an alarm clock? I couldn't see but felt around the nightstand for a clue and found a pair of glasses. When I tried them on, just like that, my vision returned to normal. I had perfect vision before! Why did I suddenly need glasses? I reached up to scratch my head and found my hairline was incredibly receded. I was balding! I looked down with my now clear vision to find an even worse fact. I was chubby!

I sat up and stared at the foreign gut and two large man tits, as well as numerous graying chest hairs. I ran my hands through the hair, pinching them to make sure they were real. I pinched the tits as well, and felt sensations I've never felt before as they wobbled when I let go. I ran my hands through my face and felt a mustache and double chin, and began feeling nauseous at the thought of what I actually looked like. I didn't see a mirror in the room so I walked out the door trying to find a bathroom. The fat jiggled all around as I ran.

I got to the bathroom and nearly puked on the spot when I saw who I was. Richard. Oh god no. Of all people, I had to look like this racist bastard? I stared at myself and grazed my hands along my face. Suddenly I felt angry and started pinching it instead, as if I was doing the same thing to the real Richard, but denial didn't help; that was my face and it hurt. I touched his mustache and pinched it, as if it would come off.

Just then I heard the doorbell ring. I didn't want to interact with anybody looking like this but until I figured out how to fix it, I knew I had to pretend to be Richard. I answered the door to find the mailman.

“Howdy Rich! Woah uh.” He stared at my chest. I forgot I was still shirtless. Having this much fat hanging from my body was almost like answering the door naked. “I see you've lost some weight!” he said, obviously lying.

“Oh uh, thanks.” I replied, trying to imitate Richard’s voice, which was pretty easy considering I've mocked him before.

“Well anyway, not much today; just a letter.” He handed me a letter with a purple stamp on it.

“Well uh see you tomorrow!” The mailman went on his way and I closed the door. I opened the letter and found a note similar to the lucky coin advertisement.

To whom it may concern,

Good morning! I trust that your lucky coin worked well? Welcome to your new life! As promised, you now have a job that you love. Unhappy with the results? Just flip the coin once again, and make sure it lands on what it landed on before! If not, however, your fate is sealed. Best Wishes! - VV, Venefica Viola

Shit. They're not lying though. Richard did love his job. And since I was in his body, I now had that job! But who is this Venefica Viola? It sounded like Latin somehow. I walked back to the bedroom to find Richard’s phone. Luckily he didn't have any lock screen pin so I could easily get in. I searched for a translator, dodging the random pop up ads that were everywhere on his phone and looked up Venefica Viola.

Violet Witch. So magic is involved somehow. I needed to get my coin back so I could undo this! It must still be at my own house. Shit! I just realized why the alarm clock went off. Richard worked today! He had perfect attendance and never uses his PTO, so not going in was gonna look suspicious. I glanced at the clock and realized I only had 20 minutes.

Even though I'd love to see Richard be humiliated by going to work in his underwear, I decided that it wasn't worth attracting attention so I looked through his clothes to put on a work uniform. I found a pair of boxers and accidently flashed myself when I completely forgot I didn't have my own dick either. It was all wrinkly, but honestly a lot bigger than I thought. No. I was not about to get horny over Richard's dick! I found what he normally wore to work and put the rest on. I found tucking the shirt was more difficult than usual, as I had to pull it over my belly.

I guess I could make this work…for now. I hated to admit it, but Richard wasn't all that bad looking. It was his personality and habits that made him so repulsive, but now that I was in control of him, he didn't look all that bad. Maybe I could even turn things around for now and do something nice for the people I know he hates. I grabbed the car keys on the nearby table, and drove to work.

I walked in the store, put Richard's nametag on, and clocked in. I nearly started walking to the bakery area but stopped myself. I guess I'm really going to have to be a greeter for a day. This feels humiliating. I made my way to the front entrance and just stood there, waiting for customers to enter or exit.

Soon enough customers began arriving and I tried my best to act like Richard, though one customer asked if I was all right because I guess I overdid it. I didn't ask any customers to show their receipts though, because I might as well take advantage of being a greeter. I noticed Domingo at the checkout and when he bagged up his groceries, he approached me first instead of the door. He hastily grabbed his receipt and started showing it to me. I wasn't about to let this happen.

“No no it's ok. You don't have to show me the receipt anymore.”

“No?” He looked shocked.

“Checking receipts is stupid anyway. I don't need to do it anymore.”

“Really? I can go?”

“Yep! Have a good day.” It was unnerving seeing him so scared at the sight of me, but he smiled like normally did as he put the receipt back in the bag and walked out.

As I moved towards the break room to take my break, I noticed someone who looked awfully familiar walk through the door. It was…me! I mean Richard. It must've been; if I was in his body, he must've been in mine. It became more obvious by the way he was walking, taking big steps as if he was used to having his gut swinging around…like mine was now. God I hated this. I had to talk to him to sort things out. He smirked as I approached.

“Hey!”

“Oh it's you. I mean me. I mean,” he paused for a second and rounded his mouth into an even bigger smile, which looked uncanny with my face. “The old me.”

“What do you mean ‘the old you’”?

“Well seeing as I'm much younger now, while you're much older, I think the term is appropriate.”

“Well yeah, but not for long. I'm going to switch us back.”

“Oh no you're not! I may have preferred being white, but I’m enjoying youth again! Oh, and don't worry. I saw that coin thing and that letter this morning, and I made sure it would never see the light of day again. You got that…Richard?”

He called me that in the same mocking tone that I always use to call him. I can't believe this!

“Y-you can't do this! I had a future!”

“That's my future now old man. You know maybe I could be a model with these looks. Maybe make one of those, what do you kids call it? OnlyFans?”

God no, I'm an artist, not a pornstar. He can't do this!

“The greeter is a real fun job, Richard. Enjoy it. You're hired!”

#strangemaleswaps #body swap #male body swap #male tf #weight gain

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

Note

WIBTA for calling out my friend for writing RPF?

I'm in a friend group of about 5. We've known eachother for 5+ years but I'm closest with Sam because I've known them the longest. What Sam doesn't know is that when we first met I was browsing through their Twitter profile when I found a link to their AO3, it was full of RPF of two celebrities they were a fan of. At the time I thought it was kinda weird but said nothing because the fics were quite old at this point and we were both stupid teens, I didn't see it as a big deal. The AO3 stayed up (I am embarrassed to say I checked up on it occasionally out of morbid curiosity or what I don't know) but Sam never mentioned these fics around me and a few months later I saw that the account had either been deleted or renamed and all of the fics had been deleted too.

This was about seven years ago. Although Sam would still talk about these celebs they liked in our group chats (and still does) they never brought up shipping them seriously and only talked about RPF as a joke. I never brought it up all this time because I thought that they'd moved on from writing and the jokes were part of that.

However recently Sam started posting about a new thing involving IRL people. As we usually do in our friend group we were being supportive, asking them questions and letting them infodump ETC. But then one of our friends made an offhand joke about there being fic of this thing out there and Sam totally clammed up. It wasn't super noticeable but they suddenly started trying to change the subject away from it. We let it go but something didn't sit right with me, maybe because I knew about their history with this stuff, later that day I decide to check out the AO3 tag for this thing and lo and behold, there is an account that started posting roughly when Sam started talking about it. Not only that but I skimmed through some of the fics and they had very specific quirks of Sam's writing style and grammar, one of the fic titles even referenced a song by their favourite artist! This was 100% Sam's alt account.

Here's where I might be the asshole. TBQH I don't care about the RPF, I think it's weird and I would never write it myself but it's harmless. But recently Sam has been... kind of an asshole to our other friends about their own interests. We poke fun at each other all the time but recently Sam has been upsetting our friend Kai by 'jokingly' calling his current hyperfixation cringy a lot to the point Kai has privately told me he feels embarrassed infodumping about it any more. Kai is the youngest in the group and I feel really protective of him, this got me really angry. I told him I'd talk to Sam and I will but I feel like what I want to say to them is too petty and over the line.

So, WIBTA if I pointed out to Sam that they have no right calling other people's interests cringe considering what they write? They don't know I know about their AO3, it would definitely be embarrassing for them but that's the point if they think it's okay to embarrass their other friends like this.

#aita #am i the asshole

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irisintheafterglow · 5 months ago

Text

love me from your point of view

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: ariana grande - "pov"

summary: you teach sakusa kiyoomi how to love, in spite of the cameras and the gossip.

wc: 8.45k

cw/tags: pro!sakusa x rockstar!reader, fem!reader in mind but no specific pronouns used, strangers to lovers, character study, explicit language, minor injury (blood/glass tw), mentions of drinking and alcohol, angst with happy ending <3

note: this is my contribution for the lovely sel's "and there's something, this feeling" collab to celebrate one year of @seiwas ! this is the longest fic i've written to date because i tried my best to go a character-driven route that i've always admired sel for rather than my usual plot-driven route. i hope you like this and happiest of anniversaries my wonderful sel :))))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated :) check out the rest of sel's event here!

Sakusa Kiyoomi hated cameras. Unfortunately, in his line of work, they were essentially gnats buzzing constantly around his head. They were always trying to make him do something, look here or there, pose with his shoulders angling this way or that. After the commands came the interrogations, nosy reporters sniffing around his private life for something sellable. Then there were the phone cameras and the fans behind them, and they could be a hit or miss depending on if they respected his boundaries. When he was in highschool, he could get away with avoiding socialization; but now, as a striker for one of the most famous teams in the country, socialization was a required skill.

“I’m happy you agreed to go with us, Sakusa,” Bokuto says for the fifth time since they parked at the venue in the heart of Tokyo. It was a little irritating, the way they kept thanking him for his presence like he’d back out if they didn’t continue expressing their gratitude. He couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to; Atsumu insisted on being the one behind the wheel and the car narrowly avoided a collision after Hinata said he’d missed the exit. “We know you’re still a little grumpy because of the drive, so don’t feel the need to talk to us right now.”

“Hey, if you wanted to leave so badly, you could just call a car,” Atsumu points out, “but I know you secretly like spending time with us.” Sakusa fixes his teammate with a stare that could be perceived as a grimace, but his friends know him better than that. Sakusa wasn’t angry, he was bored. It was originally Bokuto and Hinata’s idea to see some artist he didn’t listen to in concert, saying that it was ‘a once in a lifetime experience’ and that the artist hadn’t played in the country in over a decade. He was vaguely aware of some songs, mostly because his teammates cranked the speaker volume during conditioning. Still, it wasn’t his ideal Saturday night, especially before a big game. “And, guess what?”

“Holy shit, box seats!”

“We have our own bathroom!” Bokuto and Hinata’s shouts of excitement drown out the rest of Atsumu’s sentence and the security guards are barely able to open the doors as they tumble into the private section.

“Yo, Shoyo. Be careful of that railing or you’ll fall into the general audience,” Atsumu warns while Hinata willfully ignores him, staring out over the crowds slowly filing into their seats. “Pretty cool, ain’t it?” Sakusa nods once, approaching the balcony and then deciding against it when he catches the telltale flash of a phone camera. Like clockwork, he and the other Jackals would be on every update page within ten minutes. A small object appears from behind the balcony wall, floating upwards in a thin arc before falling back to the seats below.

“The hell are they doing?”

“Sakusa, fans are trying to give us bracelets,” Bokuto beams, holding up his forearm halfway-covered in colorful beads. “Apparently it’s a tradition with this artist.”

“I don’t like gifts,” Sakusa deadpans, his mouth taut in a frown. “Tell them I can’t take it.”

“Too late,” Atsumu says, snagging a vibrant purple bracelet as it’s tossed upwards. He looks down at the eager fans below and claps, gesturing for them to throw more. “We’re already taking ‘em, so they’re gonna wonder why you’re not taking them too.”

“If they’re real fans, they’ll know I don’t like gifts,” he counters with narrowed eyes.

“C’mon, Sakusa. Take one, at least,” Hinata says. His shorter teammate carefully pulls one off and slides it onto his wrist. The pattern alternates between yellow and lime green beads, with letter beads in the center spelling ‘NOKMLYDANOEW.’ It looked like Bokuto and Akaashi’s cat stepped on their computer keyboard. “The letters are an acronym for a song, I think. It’s an inside thing with the artist,” Hinata explains, leaning his bracelet-covered arms against the railing and waving to excited fans.

“I’m gonna see if they have time to meet us backstage. The fans’ll go berserk.” Bokuto’s words make Sakusa’s eye twitch involuntarily. Staying longer than expected of him was a surefire way to make him irritated and they knew that.

“Yeah, they’re not the only ones who will benefit from a little meet and greet,” Atsumu whispers cryptically and it’s impossible not to see the way he looks Sakusa up and down.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it, man,” Bokuto reassures him with a pat on the back, but he doesn’t budge.

“No, I’m interested. What’re you on about, Miya?”

“Trust us, it’s nothing!”

“Just grab a soju and relax, Sakusa–”

“They’re trying to set you up with the artist!” Sakusa flinches, turning slowly to his teammates that shrink away like vampires in direct sunlight. Hinata looks mortified, his hands slapped over his mouth as if to seal off what was already revealed. Atsumu and Bokuto shrug, giving him guilty smiles and showing their palms to convey their surrender. “That’s…that’s what they were talking about before we picked you up,” Hinata continues sheepishly.

“This whole thing is a blind date?” He seethes through gritted teeth, the lights of the stadium starting to give him a migraine. “You guys brought me here to set me up?”

“All we’re trying to do is have you meet someone new,” Atsumu says gently, stepping forward and then abruptly backward when Sakusa looks like he’s about to commit a homicide. “We think it’ll be good for you.”

“I don’t care about new people. I have work and you idiots to keep me busy,” Sakusa argues, crossing his arms over his chest. The beads on his arm press into his skin and he fights the urge to rip the entire thing off. “Why would I wanna meet some musician I don’t listen to?”

“Even if you don’t listen to their music,” Bokuto replies without hesitation, “You should read through their lyrics sometime; I think you’ll find a lot of stuff you can relate to. I bet they get just as much bad publicity as we do.”

“As if,” he scoffs. “I don’t need someone with a purple guitar telling me what I think.”

—

“You said there were volleyball guys in attendance, right? If they’re still here, I should probably meet them,” you say to your publicist as you step out from the automatic riser that brought you below the stage following the last song of the show. The sound of your platform boots echo on the linoleum in the back halls of the stadium, your exit music faintly audible from above. “Who are they?”

“There’s four in total, along with some managers and press. They’re on a team called the MSBY Jackals, with an outstanding record in the sport. From what I’ve seen, three of them are pretty nice.” The two of you, along with a handful of security guards, climb into a waiting golf cart.

“And the other one?”

“Toss-up. He might not even talk to you.” You take a sip from your water bottle and briefly glance at the photo your publicist has pulled up on her phone. You can guess which one is the quiet one from his face in the photo alone, staring blankly at the camera while his other teammates smile brightly.

“He looks like he’d kill me in my sleep,” you observe bluntly. “The type of serial killer people make fan accounts about.”

“In his defense, I don’t think this is his type of crowd,” she shrugs, her attention flicking to the way you stretch your legs in the seat of the small vehicle. “Sore?”

“Beyond belief,” you chuckle, wincing as a small stab of pain shoots through your calf. “I think I might need a little more padding on the soles, if possible. Chunky heels, in all their wonder, were not made for three hour shows.”

“I’ll see what I can do. You focus on turning back on for the players.”

After a few more minutes of sipping water and stretching out your legs in the backseat of the golf cart, you pull up to the loading dock where the four athletes are waiting. Two of them, one with iced tips and the other with vibrantly orange hair, practically jump in place when you arrive. The grumpy one lingers at the back of the group; the blonde player extends his hand to you as you step out.

“Thank you so much.” You greet them with a practiced smile and hope your exhaustion isn’t too visible. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I couldn’t stop screaming the entire time and I think my voice is shot.”

“You are incredibly talented.”

“It was wonderful!”

“Oh, I’m so glad. It’s such a pleasure to meet you all,” you say warmly, truly wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for 24 hours straight. Even when his friends chatter your ear off, the curly-haired one at the back doesn’t say anything. The short one with orange hair and the widest smile introduces himself as Hinata Shoyo, excitedly leading you to each of his teammates: loud Bokuto, flirty Atsumu, and reclusive Sakusa. You’re left alone with Sakusa when the other three rush off to find a bathroom, having been too excited to use one during your show.

“I didn’t take you for the bracelet type, Sakusa,” you comment, clocking the single bracelet on his wrist. “The colors are nice, though. They go with your eyes.” You let some of your facade come down, mostly because you figured you didn’t need to be as energetic around this one compared to the others.

“Yeah, Shoyo let me have one of his. Didn’t realize you had such a passionate fanbase,” he states and you fight the urge to laugh. “Or such a large one.”

“You didn’t think I had fans, Sakusa?” His eyes widen ever so slightly and the chuckle slips out before you can stop it, his ears turning a shade pinker.

“Not what I said,” he backtracks, avoiding eye contact. “The show was good,” he continues unexpectedly, and you find yourself appreciating his praise more than you should. It was a triumph, in your mind, every time you won over a new listener, and he was no different. At least he wasn’t one of the guys harassing you in your Instagram messages.

“I appreciate the compliment,” you say and catch his ears turning even redder. As much as he was trying to seem offputting, you could read him like a book. “You guys are in town for a game?”

“We’re playing not tomorrow night, but the night after. Coach would kill us if he knew we were going out before a big game,” he answers and you nod, gears starting to turn in your brain. It would be a headline tomorrow that the four players came to your show, but it would break the Internet entirely if you attended their game, especially in the middle of a sold-out tour. It was the kind of publicity you needed to drown out the tabloids.

“My last show of this city is tomorrow night, but I can get away with skipping a rest day. Would it be weird if I came to watch you play?”

“You want to watch me play?” Sakusa echoes. The tiniest little smirk plays on the corner of his lips. Ugh. For all his introvertedness, he still had the ego of a pro athlete. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“I meant you guys. Don’t think I forgot about the players that actually came to talk to me,” you correct quickly. You exhale through your nose and shake your head with a small smile. The enthusiastic conversation behind you tells you that the rest of the team is returning. “Fine. Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that antisocial attitude.”

“Have fun with that. I don’t like new people,” he says, testing you. Too bad you were used to men that probably weren’t healthy for you. “There’s no changing that.” Your forehead throbs at his pure audacity, but you manage to keep an unbothered expression.

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

—

“I didn’t think they’d actually show up,” he mutters, taking another look at the large screens projecting the image of you in a VIP box. Sakusa didn’t recognize you without your concert makeup and stage outfit until Shoyo practically knocked him over in excitement. Seeing you smiling and catching your eye, even from at the bottom of the court, made his stomach turn in a way he wasn’t used to.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that first,” Bokuto beams, sending a powerful serve that barely cilps the top of the net. Sakusa finds his eyes drifting to your box, his scowl deepening when you blow an exaggerated kiss to his teammate. His next serve he puts more effort into, but when he looks up, you’re not even watching. Not only were you crashing his game, you were distracting his team. “Nice plan, Sakusa! Maybe we can become friends with them and go to each others’ events.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he cringes, the idea of spending more time with you making him nauseous. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the fact that you were making an effort to engage with him and his friends was outlandish. And all because he invited you to a game? Didn’t you have anything better to do?

“You thought inviting them to the game would scare them away, huh?” Atsumu’s watching Sakusa carefully, inspecting his disgruntled expression under a microscope. “Believe it or not, Omi, some people actually want to be around you…despite how difficult you make it sometimes.”

“I don’t remember asking for your input,” he threatens, but the blonde Miya merely shrugs, impervious to Sakusa’s warnings. “Can we agree to ignore their presence? Focus on the game. It’s your job.” Atsumu and Bokuto share a look, with typical Hinata none the wiser. Whether they knew it or not, your attendance was throwing off Sakusa’s entire concentration. The average spectator wouldn’t notice the change in Sakusa’s behavior; if anything, they would think he was functioning at a higher level than he usually plays. His serves are stronger, his spikes are sharper, and his steps are quicker than any other player on the court. Fans rave on social media about how focused he is in the game, and the reporters scribble in their notebooks the pressing question for the post-game press conference: Why are you playing so well today?

“I always play that well,” he mutters, his lie drowned out by the lively conversation around the booth in the corner of the restaurant. The Jackals had cinched an easy victory and Bokuto and Hinata dragged you from your box to get dinner with them. Sakusa sits at the edge of the booth, flanked by Atsumu, followed by Bokuto and Hinata. You sit at the other end, laughing at some dumb story being recounted. It made his forehead pound. “You just don’t notice.”

“Yeah, right,” Atsumu snickers with another sip of beer. “Admit it, something’s pissing you off.” Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that anti-social attitude. Your words linger in the back of his mind and fire him up again, unknowingly furrowing his eyebrows and incriminating him. “Yep. Knew it.”

“Shut the hell up, Atsumu.” He hated that his normally-idiotic teammate was on the cusp of exposing the truth, not to mention the fact that he’d downed one too many soju bombs and was feeling pushier than usual.

“Is it ‘cause they actually listened to you and showed up?”

“I told you to shut up,” he hisses through gritted teeth. You’re laughing so hard that tears are starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes. It’s the kind of laugh where no noise is actually leaving you and you’re fanning yourself with your hand. Gross.

“Aww, look at little baby Omi-Omi, finally having a feeling over someone wanting to get to know him,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa’s ears burn. He threatens his friend with an indescribable death to no avail. “I knew you had a heart under all that coldness!”

Sakusa’s fist clenches around his glass and he realizes his mistake a split second before there’s a sharp crack! and sudden pain prickles in his palm. “Oh shit, man. I–” His teammate swears under his breath when drops of dark red and amber starts to trickle down Sakusa’s arm, staining the white napkin on his lap. He grinds his teeth down to keep from crying out, the whiskey in his shattered cup burning his raw skin.

“What happened?” You’re by his side in an instant, your perfume flooding his senses in a way that makes him dizzy. “Jeez, Atsumu. What’d you do?”

“Why are you blaming me? He’s the one who was holding the cup,” Atsumu says defensively and you shoot him a look. “Fine. I got him riled up and he did,” he gestures to the mess on the table, “that.”

“Could one of you call your driver please? I think it’s time you three head back to your hotel,” you recommend calmly.

“What about Sakusa?” Hinata asks as he climbs out from the booth, dragging an apologetic Atsumu and a very buzzed Bokuto toward the door. “He should probably get that checked out.”

“I know. I’ll stay with him,” you reassure him and, after a brief pause of thinking, the short spiker nods and heads for the exit. Sakusa is rigidly still, save for the involuntarily twitching of his injured fingers. “C’mon, let’s go,” you say, gently guiding him out of the booth and grabbing some unused napkins to catch the bleeding. He follows you wordlessly, a million thoughts stewing in his eyes that he refuses to verbalize. He knew he didn’t like you when you tried to read him after your show, but the alcohol in his system was making him despise you.

You, sitting with him on the way to the nearest hospital. You, carefully looping the elastic bands of his mask over his face before leaving the car. You, politely declining a fan’s attempt to introduce themselves while you’re checking him in at the reception desk. You, listening intently to the doctor as she says that he’ll need stitches in his right hand and that they’ll need to pick every last particle of glass from his palm so that it doesn’t become infected. You, ignoring your vocal coach’s orders for a rest day and staying by his side from 11:00pm to 3:00am when the doctors finally finish his hand.

He despises you and his pride becomes a gag in his mouth once you drop him off at the Jackals’ hotel, rendering him unable to choke out a simple ‘thank you’ as you continue to treat him with unending kindness. You’ll get hurt if you keep being nice, he thinks to himself, and the way you flinch like you’d been shot tells him he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. He hears you murmur Sleep well, Sakusa, as he shuts the door with his left hand and stalks away, lost in the trenches of his mind.

—

“But, I’m not sure if it should be the A minor to keep with the chord progression or go to E to create some tension.” Your producer nods at you, his chin resting on his knuckles as you strum your latest song idea on your purple acoustic. It’d been a few days since your late-night trip to the emergency room with Sakusa, and you decided to spend a few hours in the studio before catching your flight to your next tour city. “And when I tried to do it on piano, I just wanted to change the key entirely.” He opens his mouth to speak but is abruptly cut off by three insistent raps on the doorframe of the control room.

“You have a visitor,” your publicist informs you, peeking her head into the room with a slightly bewildered look in her eyes. “He says it’s urgent.” Your eyebrows dip but you stand anyways, walking through the halls of the recording space until you reach the lobby of the building and stop in your tracks.

What the hell was he doing here?

“Hey,” Sakusa greets and you blink at him, like he was a figment of your imagination that would disappear if you ignored him. It’s impossible to ignore him, though, considering the outrageously large bundle of flowers cradled in his arm. He follows your eyeline, muttering, “I didn’t know which ones you liked, so I just…bought all of them.”

“I’ll, uh,” your publicist glances at you for a brief moment, giving you an unreadable look before gingerly taking the bouquet from the Olympian in the lobby. “I’ll take these and have them brought to your next hotel, okay?” She dismisses herself, leaving you alone with him.

“Why are you here?”

“Are you busy right now?” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed that he replied to your question with a question of his own. Since dropping him off at the team’s hotel, you’d come to peace with his hatred for you even though you’d tried to be nothing but cordial; maybe he could tell that you wanted to be friends for the publicity, you theorized.

“I’m in a recording studio doing my job, so yeah,” you reply and allow all your suppressed attitude to rear its head. To your surprise, he doesn’t immediately fire back at you. If anything, Sakusa looked uneasy, nothing like the cold confidence you previously saw. “What do you want?”

“Do you have time for lunch?”

“Oh, now you’re interested in my company,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. In the time following that night at the hospital, you hadn’t received any updates other than an unprompted photo of hungover Atsumu. “Unless you’re ready to apologize for how much of an asshole you’ve been, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I wanna start over,” he says as you turn your back on him to return to the studio. “One meal,” he proposes, “and if you want nothing to do with me after that, I’ll leave you alone.” You check the wall-mounted clock and make your decision.

“You get two hours.”

By the time you sneak through the back of a restaurant and sit down to eat, your stomach is turning itself inside out. You thumb through the menu eagerly, ignoring your present company until water glasses are set out and orders are taken.

“Look,” you begin, peering at him in the dim light, “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“That makes two of us,” he agrees. “You go first.”

“Truth is, I didn’t go to the game to see you, or any of the Jackals, for that matter,” you admit. “I went to get the tabloids off my back and give them a different reason to talk. I didn’t mean to mess up whatever dynamic you guys had going, so for that I am sorry.” You can’t see much of Sakusa’s expression, but you can tell his eyes are on you by the way they shine like a cat’s. It was off-putting, but also drew you in like a black hole. “Is your hand doing okay?”

“It’s better now,” he replies. “Doc’ told me that if we’d left that glass in for longer, it would’ve been more serious.” You nod and take a drink from your water as an excuse not to respond, to see if he would go further. “I, uh,” he swallows thickly, steadying his nerves. “I’m sorry for being avoidant and just being a general asshole. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m…incredibly remorseful.” A puff of air leaves your nostrils in amusement and he can hear you smirk from across the small table.

“I appreciate the apology, and the apology lunch. Wanna start over without our respective teams breathing down our necks? Friends?” You stick your open hand toward him and he shakes it without hesitation, sealing your deal. “Awesome.”

“You said ‘tabloids.’ What do they say about you?” Your smile fades and for a moment, he thinks he’s pushed too far too soon. He’s on the brink of apologizing again when you exhale an unsteady breath.

“The tame ones call me an industry plant,” you explain awkwardly. “The–uh–bolder ones call me a slut.” His nostrils flare and he’s glad there’s no glass in his hand again, otherwise he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t be shattered. “The big drama came from me leaving the producer who’d helped me start my career. The media got the wrong idea, said I’d slept my way into working with him, and left when I’d had my fill.” Sakusa slowly stretches his neck from side to side, willing the sudden tension in his body to relax as he starts to see red. “I hope you can see why I wanted to give them a different reason to talk.” It’s more of a struggle than he expected to keep his voice steady.

“What actually happened? With the original producer?” You hum in lieu of answering, grateful to catch the approaching servers out of the corner of your eye.

“I’ll tell you another time,” you dodge, giving him a smile that he can tell is off. “For now, can we eat? I’m so hungry I’m about to eat these silly little herbs in the centerpiece.”

—

Sakusa stays in Tokyo longer than the rest of his teammates, who depart on the team jet for the next game. He says he wants to do a little more sightseeing, despite having an apartment in the most expensive highrise in the city and knowing the streets like the back of his hand. The truth was, he wasn’t ready to give up the…thing…he’d established with you. He fell into an odd sort of routine: saying goodnight over text, calling you in the morning and telling you what time he’s picking you up, choosing the best places that can shut down for the world’s biggest rockstar on a day’s notice. You were in town for three more days and ended up spending every waking moment of them with Sakusa.

“You’re really good at dodging the cameras,” you remark over a shared cup of ice cream on your last day, digging your spoon past the numerous toppings you’d insisted on adding. “How do you do it?”

“It helps when I’m not surrounded by the three biggest noisemakers on the planet,” he deadpans and you giggle, a sound he was increasingly becoming fond of the more time he spent with you. “I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know.”

“Everyone seems to know where I am before even I know,” you frown. “I envy you; I really do.”

“I don’t,” he shrugs.

“Why not?”

“When you’re trying so hard to avoid people, they tend to stop looking for you. Makes my job easier.” Your lips part in an oh of understanding. “But, I guess you’re here, so either you truly care about my wellbeing or you’re clinically insane.” You burst out laughing, so much so that you snort and have to cover your mouth with a napkin. “My running theory is that it’s a mix of both,” he declares with a rare upturn at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, shit,” you mutter once you’ve caught your breath and checked the time on your phone. “I should go. My plane leaves soon and my manager’ll kill me if I’m late. She’s already iffy about me staying in Tokyo this long.”

“What’s your next city?”

“Madrid. I’m starting the European leg,” you reply while you pack up your things. He stands, walking you to the door of your waiting car. His eyes instinctively scan the surroundings street for cameras, and he subtly positions his body to block you from any passing eyes as you climb into the car. The window makes a humming noise as you roll it down.

“Have a safe flight.”

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah? I’ll miss you, even if you don’t want me to.” He memorizes the way the afternoon sunlight catches in your eyes, how each thump of his heartbeat seems louder when you’re near. Something is wrong in my brain, he thinks to himself. Once he’s completely sure your car isn’t being tailed, he dials Atsumu on the drive to the hotel to collect the rest of his things.

“You land already, Miya?” His car purrs beneath his fingertips as he speeds through the busy streets.

“Safe and sound,” his teammate confirms. “Though jet lag is starting to hit Shoyo and Bo. How were the rest of your dates?”

“They weren’t dates,” he argues, his hands unconsciously gripping the wheel tighter in indignance. “I was just thanking them for that night.”

“Yeah, and a bit more than that, I figure.”

“I don’t even know why I bothered calling you,” he groans.

“Because you want me to say ‘I told you so,’ right? That it was a good idea for me to bring you to that show. You know, a trip to that conveyor belt sushi place will suffice as repayment.”

“In your dreams, Atsumu,” Sakusa deadpans.

“C’mon, Omi. I know you wouldn’t keep spending time with them if you didn’t feel some kind of tug.”

“Tug?”

“Like you’re drawn to them,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa feels like gagging. “Intimately.” Sakusa definitely didn’t think of you that way…right?

“You’re such a pervert.” His disgust is clear, and his speakers blow out with Atsumu’s screams of Not like that! and You don’t even pull enough for me to make fun of! “I’m at the hotel now so I’m gonna hang up. Not sure again why I even bother talking to you.”

“Because I’m your best friend,” Atsumu answers. “See you soon, my sweet Omi~”

“Remind me to punch you when I touch down.”

—

“How was the show a few nights ago?”

“Amazing, as always. Almost fell on my ass running around to meet people at the barricade, but thankfully kept my balance,” you chuckle, running the pad of your thumb over the petal of a purple gladiolus. “You can probably see a clip of it on all the fan pages.”

“You think I follow fan pages about you?”

“What? I follow fan pages about you,” you insist. “User ‘omi-omisbigtits’ has some pretty funny posts of you.” Sakusa groans from the other end of the line.

“That’s the one fan account I have blocked because they post such heinous things,” he recalls. “Did you scroll far enough to see the one where I’m at the zoo and–”

“You’re running away from the peacock, yep,” you finish. Out of the various presents and letters your fans gifted you, you find yourself drawn again and again to the pot of sword lilies. “I screenshotted it and made it your contact photo.”

“I’m never sending you flowers again,” he mutters, but you hear it, snapping your head upwards.

“These were you?” Your jaw drops so forcefully that it aches. “You’re the mystery flower sender? No one would tell me who sent these!”

“Because I told them I’d sue if you found out it was me,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes, a grin creeping onto your face.

“Why’d you want to send them anonymously?” Upon inspecting the color further, you realize where you’ve seen the shade before.

He’d sent you flowers that matched your favorite guitar.

“I didn’t wanna distract you before your shows. I was aiming for subtlety.” You blink in disbelief. Sakusa had sent you flowers the night before you started your show run in Paris, knowing you would be at the venue for soundcheck. Maybe he did care about you and your career.

“Well, you failed,” you state, staring at the large bundle of purple taking up half the space on your dressing room’s side table. “This bouquet is the opposite of subtle.”

“Bouquet? I ordered you one stem.”

“No,” you restated. Even though you’d never video called Sakusa before, you switch on your phone’s camera anyway to show him the absolutely gargantuan amount of flowers he mistakenly sent you. “You ordered this.” To your surprise, he turns on his camera as well. His face contorts into such a shocked and puzzled expression that you snort out the water you were sipping, burning your nostrils as tears prickle your eyes. “Stop looking like that, I can’t breathe!”

“What do you mean, ‘stop looking like that?’ I didn’t mean to send you the whole rainforest!” You choke out another uncontrollable laugh, turning the camera to face yourself and setting it in front of your vanity mirror. “Alright, at least you got them.”

“Yes, and I really appreciate you sending them.” You can tell he’s not used to having his camera on, as he keeps tilting the phone at odd angles and barely showing his face half the time. “What’re you doing right now?”

“Just in bed.” Or a snowstorm, from the looks of it.

“Why does it look like your poor phone is in a typhoon?”

“You’re literally so annoying,” he grumbles, reluctantly positioning himself so that he’s sitting against the headboard. With the new point of view, you also notice very quickly that he…is completely shirtless. “Better?”

“Yep, yeah. That’s fine,” you force out, clearing your throat aggressively while the image of his very broad shoulders assault your brain. “Sorry that I didn’t send you flowers for your game.”

“The guys would give me shit about it if you do, so I’m glad you did not,” he replies. “Though, it does suck not having you around.”

“This is the closest I’m ever getting to you saying you miss me. I should commemorate it with a plaque.” Sakusa clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. He must’ve taken a shower recently; his curls look slightly wet and dangle haphazardly across his eyes. You have the sudden urge to run your fingers through it, and then the even more sudden urge to slap yourself for thinking in such a way.

“What city are you in now? I know you just finished up Dublin.” His voice snaps you out of your daydreaming.

“Paris,” you manage to reply without too awkward of a pause. “You?”

“Paris.”

“Huh? I thought your next game was in Brazil,” you ask. His face goes still for a moment and you figure it’s probably frozen from bad service, wherever he is. “Hello?”

“Sorry, you broke up for a second. What were you saying?”

“I was asking why you were in Paris.”

“I’m not in Paris,” he states. “I’m in Seoul.”

“Isn’t your next game in Brazil?” He pauses for an almost imperceptible amount of time.

“Game schedule got rearranged. We’re in Seoul, then the States, then Brazil.”

“Oh. I see.” A loud series of knocking on your dressing room door makes you jump. “Ah, I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Rockstar duties?”

“You know it,” you yawn, taking one last indulgent look at the exposed muscle on his shoulders. “Hopefully we both get some rest for the coming days.”

“Yep. G’night.”

—

There was a little bit of lingering guilt on his end after you hang up; the fact that he’d lied to you about his whereabouts didn’t escape him.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, what sentimental demon temporarily possessed him to take a plane to wherever you were (Paris, not the lie that he gaslit you into believing) and buy a last minute ticket to your show. His emotions and desires were thrown completely off balance; he truly didn’t care if he was up in the nosebleeds if it meant he got to see you. Thankfully, a wealthy couple had bought out an entire area of club seats for their granddaughter’s birthday, but decided last minute that they wanted to fly to Cancun. It made him a little anxious, having all that space to himself, but he figured he could have his guards and team invite family to make it a little less lonely. It didn’t matter how many strangers he needed to meet or how much he had to spend.

He just wanted to see you.

He finds himself in a familiar position from the first time he went to one of your shows, rooted under the awning of the expansive lounge area and just out of sight from fans. His arms unconsciously cross over his chest and the beads of the bracelet he’d dug through his luggage to find presses against his skin. But, this time, he isn’t annoyed by the pain; if anything, it reminds him that he’s actually here with you, even if you don’t know it yet.

I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know. His words echo back to him and he makes his decision, stepping out into the stadium lights and resting his forearms on the railing.

He wants you to know he’s there.

The first fan to notice is a girl in purple, slapping her friend furiously until they both are gawking at him. One pair of eyes becomes two, which becomes five, which becomes twenty, until hundreds of phone cameras are pointed at him and snapping photos. The sentimental demon possesses him again and he sticks up an involuntary peace sign, even going so far as to smile to look less bored. They scream for him and he thinks the sentimental demon is Atsumu, because he finds himself imitating his teammate’s movements. His hands clap together and he gestures for fans to toss him bracelets, which become an impossible shower as dozens are thrown at once. By the time the lights dim and news of his presence is trending across the continent, his arms are covered in sleeves of rainbow beads.

—

The ache in your feet is immediately replaced by adrenaline when your head of security informs you who came to the show. You don’t bother waiting for the golf cart to bring you to the back of the stadium and take off sprinting, chunky heels and all. They’re calling after you to hold on to let the rest of your team catch up, but you don’t listen. The stadium staff look at you fondly but also have a reasonably startled reaction to you running like you’d escaped from an asylum.

You round the corner absolutely heaving and his face breaks into a wide smile. You’d never seen him look like that before, never at his games or during any of the time you’d spent together. It was an expression reserved for only you in this moment. You don’t remember if he catches you or if you embrace him first, but soon enough your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut and grinning like a lunatic. His arms are rock solid around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer until you can hear his heartbeat slamming against his ribcage. Neither of you speak for a few minutes because you don’t feel the need to; only when you pull away to hold his face with your hands do you manage to articulate words.

“You’re here,” you breathe. “You’re actually here.” Recognition blinks onto your face and you suddenly frown, lightheartedly slapping his shoulder, saying, “You lied! Your dumb ass said you were in Seoul!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he concludes unapologetically. “I did slip up with my story a few times, though.”

“Yeah, you got your own game schedule wrong.”

“To be fair, some games did get rescheduled, which is why I’m able to be here. Our next game’s in Seoul, which is why I blanked and said that instead,” he explains and you respond with an exasperated eyeroll. “Find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I see right through you, Sakusa Kiyoomi. You don’t…uhm…” He comes close enough that you can count his eyelashes and it takes you a few seconds to recompose yourself. “Mmm, you wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid,” you challenge and hope he doesn’t hear the butterflies going wild in your stomach.

“Maybe I do,” he smirks and it only makes the situation more sweat-inducing. “I missed you, after all.” Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in but instantly shoot back open, gently pushing him away as he pouts. “What is it?”

“Take me out to dinner, first. If you apologize sufficiently for being a terrible liar, maybe you’ll get a kiss,” you propose and he’s already lacing his fingers in yours.

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

—

In spite of his attempts to ignore the cameras and the footsteps that were always a few feet behind him, there was a pit in his stomach every time Sakusa was in public with you. He couldn’t figure out why he was so irked, but the feeling made it difficult to enjoy how you smiled at him in quiet moments and pointed out things he’d never think to notice before. Most perplexingly, you didn’t seem bothered at all by the cameras. It was like they disappeared as soon as he came into your proximity; you barely spared them a glance in favor of beaming up at him.

Even though you agreed that there was a feeling more than platonic between you two, he hadn’t mustered up the urge to kiss you properly, opting for your forehead or your hands instead. It didn’t seem to bother you, the way he only reserved showing his affection when you were out of view. But, he slips up the night before you have to part ways, him for his next game and you for your final European date. The dread he’d experienced for days felt like intuition telling him something was inherently wrong, like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff he didn’t know the height of.

It comes crashing down when the tabloids catch him holding your hand.

“Can you believe this?” You snort, showing Sakusa the headline as he forces down the bile in his throat. “They think you’re my next ‘big catch,’ like you’re a fish or something,” you chuckle obliviously, leaning into him on the living room couch of his hotel suite. He manages a pained mhmm and watches as you continue to scroll through the news site, the photos of him holding your hand and grabbing your waist flying by like a nightmarish film reel. He rubs his palms back and forth over the fabric of his sweats, feeling suddenly feverish from every single point where your body was touching his. Clearing his throat, he swallows thickly and you finally look at him, concern pinching in your eyebrows. Your voice is gentle and you reach up to feel his forehead; he dodges your hand and you carefully hide your disappointment. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“We can’t do this.” His heart sinks as you sit up and blink at him, his words registering slowly in your mind. “I can’t…I can’t do this with you,” he sputters out. You exhale a single time and he watches your eyes flick from side to side, your brain running a thousand miles a minute.

“I don’t understand.”

“We need to stop.” You laugh forcefully, like you were commanding your body to feel lighter.

“If this is a joke, Kiyoomi, it isn’t funny–”

“It’s not a fucking joke; you need to stop being with me,” he snaps and the room falls silent. The only thing he can hear is his heartbeat rushing through his ears, his face hotter than the sun.

“Why?” Your voice breaks and so does something in him, his jaw clenching unconsciously.

“You need to stop being nice to me,” he says through gritted teeth, “because I can’t guarantee I’ll be nice back.” This is how it always ends. Push them away before things get messy. This is how it works for Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“But you have been nice,” you fight back, your grief morphing into unfiltered rage as you stand and scream at him. “You sent me flowers. You bought me dinner. You flew across the world to see my fucking show!”

“That doesn’t matter. None of it mattered.” His composure wavers momentarily, unreadable emotions flashing across his face. “You can’t be close to me without getting hurt.” He gestures to your phone, the paparazzi image of you two together brighter than a Times Square billboard.

“Who said it needed to be that way?”

“Everyone did!” He stands without warning and you flinch backward, stumbling against the coffee table. “People think I’m an asshole, so that’s how I choose to stay. At the very least, I can predict things and prevent people from getting too close. You’re too close.”

“But you’re not an asshole. You’ve shown me that much,” you insist, arguing with his back as he starts to retreat into the master suite. What you say next makes him freeze, trapped in an endless time loop with you.

Tell me you care for your friends.

“What?” He’s seething as he turns, meeting your eyes. “What the fuck do you mean, do I–”

“Do you care about your friends?” You repeat, stepping closer to him. His eyes are burning, molten to the core even when you refuse to shrink away. “If Bo, Shoyo, and Atsumu were dying in a fucking fire, would you save them?”

“Of course I would,” he spits indignantly. “What kind of–”

“Then you have the capacity to love, Kiyoomi, as much as you don’t want to admit it.” You’re crying, tears streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. Why are you crying? He never wanted to make you cry. What did he do to make you cry?

“Because the last time you loved something, people scorned you.” They told him his passion was suffocating. They told him he was walking a path that one could only walk alone. He’s frozen, his feet left immobile on the hotel carpet. He makes no sound beside shaking exhales and can sense nothing but your voice coming closer.

“You made it your career to prove that it’s worthy of your love…but you forgot how to love anything else.” Time slows. He doesn’t remember when your face appeared so close to his. He can see a universe behind your eyes and he wants nothing more than to hold you and call you his. His passion was suffocating. It would hurt you. It would burn you. It would–

“I wish you could love yourself as much as I love you.”

One breath, and then another.

A crack in an eggshell. A hole in a fortress.

You are an asteroid completely obliterating the planet he considered himself.

And when he finally kisses you properly, he understands just how freeing being destroyed could be.

—

Sakusa Kiyoomi did not like cameras. They were gnats buzzing around his head, calling for him to look this way and that, catching his every reaction to whatever crossed his path. They were broken whispers that floated to his ears, unintelligible conversations that stayed as voices in his head. He did not like cameras, but he found that looking at you was infinitely better than looking at anything else.

“You doing okay?” Your murmur is the only thing he hears, quieting the rest of the chatter around him. Swaths of dresses and suits brush against his arms and he fights the instinct to shield you from view, despite being sat in the very center of the huge theater. It was the biggest award show of the season, and he’d made a vow with himself that he wouldn’t ruin tonight for you. With your hand in his, as long as he had physical contact with you, it was easier to keep the doubts in his mind at bay. “I’m feeling fine, if that’s what you need to know.”

“I’m doing okay as long as you’re okay,” he confirms softly, barely sparing a glance at the giant lens a few feet from his face. “I’m here to celebrate you. I won’t let them bother me tonight.” You beam at him, opening your mouth to say something when a commotion comes tumbling down the aisle. “Actually,” he mutters as his three teammates trip over themselves to find their seats in the rest of the row, “Do you think I can have one nasty scowl? I promise I’ll behave otherwise.”

“Having a rockstar best friend is like, the best thing ever,” Bokuto declares before you can respond to Kiyoomi.

“I’m so glad Omi finally got his head out of his ass, too,” Atsumu drawls with an unbothered yawn that makes Sakusa’s blood boil. The blonde Miya sibling had been very vocal with the press about playing as the matchmaker, pointedly dodging questions about his own romantic status. “I think I’ll secretly have ‘I told you so’ engraved on the inside of your wedding rings.”

“Over my dead body,” Kiyoomi grumbles and you smile, squeezing his hand once. He squeezes back, pressing a rare public kiss to the side of your head. You shift your body to lean more closely to his and your wrist presses down on something wrapped around his wrist.

“What’s under your sleeve?”

“Hmm? Oh, this?” He pulls back the freshly ironed fabric to reveal a familiar pattern of green and yellow beads, out of place compared to the rest of his formal attire. “Got it from a concert,” he smirks knowingly. “The show was cool, but I think I’m in love with the artist.”

“Yeah? You never figured out what that acronym stands for, did you?” He shakes his head and you point at each letter bead, explaining, “No one knows me like you do, and no one ever will.”

“Well, isn’t that fitting?” The lights dim and the orchestra starts to play its signature fanfare, spotlights gliding in aimless directions across the audience. “Thank you for helping me understand.”

“The meaning of the lyric? Of course, I think of you every time I sing it, now,” you smile.

“No, about what you said that night when we argued.” He feels a familiar blush creeping up his cheeks. “About loving me how you love me.”

“And do you get it now?”

“I do,” he nods, glancing at the colorful bracelet on his wrist and your fingers intertwined with his. “I just needed a little bit of convincing.” Your head settles on his shoulder and he lets you, allowing himself to relax in spite of the sea of cameras surrounding him.

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#tw blood #tw glass #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #kiyoomi sakusa x you #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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tumb1rprincess · 6 months ago

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Random Thoughts About the Magnus Archives

I feel like something's being said about your personality depending on which avatars you like and which ones you want to drop dead, I just don't know what. Like, anytime Peter showed up, I'd be like "You're a bitch ass, go away." But anytime distortion Michael made an appearance, I'd be like "That's my baby boy!" And there are a few that are kind of in between. Like with Nikola, I was like "You freak me the fuck out, but you're funny, so I guess that evens it out."

I think it's so interesting how despite a lot of the characters not getting any physical descriptions, a lot of artists in the fandom draw them the same way. Like, Melanie almost always has colorful hair, usually blue. Jon's hair gets longer with every season. Helen is almost always wearing purple. I just wonder how everyone unanimously agreed on some of this stuff.

I thought the Leitner rant was a canon thing, so I avoided anything about it 'cause I wanted to be surprised. I think near the end of the series though I finally looked it up and I was like "What!? This was a fan thing?" Totally hilarious though, I kind of felt the same way about Leitner.

The inside jokes are fucking hilarious, like the "homophobic vase." Or we have classics like "I just listened to the episode where the guy has sex with a bug." "Oh, which one?" and "Peter and Elias are definitely divorced."

Seeing what episodes scared people and which ones had people going "Actually, that sounds kind of nice" was very interesting. Like, episode 57 where the guy was stuck all alone in space? Emotionally destroyed me. But then others would be like "Yo, being able to be all alone in space with no one to bother me? Sign me up."

Also interesting to see which Fears scared people the most and which ones they think they would end up serving. I think the Buried scared me the most. Episodes 15, 132, and 195 freaking terrified me. I'd probably end up serving the Lonely, I remember thinking "Oh, that's me," with a lot of episodes, particularly episodes 159, 170, 186. It was a weird combination of "I'm in this statement and I don't like it" and "I actually feel seen." Like a weird mix of being called out and also kind of validated because I felt like my thoughts and feelings were finally being put into words and that meant somebody else had gone through the same thing.

What were some popular fan theories that ended up not coming true? I think I saw somewhere that a lot of people were theorizing that Martin would join the Web before he ended up serving the Lonely instead. People often say Gravity Falls fans grew up to be Magnus Archives fans and I remember Gravity Falls fans going crazy with some of the theories. And even if some of them ended up not happening, they're still really interesting.

I love how a lot of the characters do shitty things, but you completely understand why. Like, Melanie's wrong for blaming Jon for a lot of things that go wrong, but you understand that she feels trapped like an animal in a cage, so she's just lashing out. Or Tim is kind of an asshole in season 3, but you understand because he went through a lot of the same trauma that Jon did, he's just reacting with anger instead of paranoia.

I've been watching a lot of fan animations for this show and a lot of the comments are like "I checked out the Magnus Archives because of this video!" And the same thing happened to me too. Did you guys see any fan animations that made you decide to give this show a go?

When people draw Jon with long hair, they draw him like he’s the prettiest man alive and I love it. That or ends up looking like Jesus or Bruno Madrigal

I see every day things like a spiral shaped object or a spider and I jokingly think “Is that a Magnus Archives reference?” Or I’ll be listening to a song and think “Hmm, that could go in a Lonely playlist” or “Ooo, that so fits with the Vast.”

#the magnus archives #peter lukas #michael disortion #helen distortion #melanie king #jonathan sims #elias bouchard #mag 15 #mag 132 #mag 195 #mag 159 #mag 170 #mag 186 #nikola orsinov #martin blackwood #jurgen leitner #tim stoker #mag 57

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scoops404 · 1 month ago

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Scoops' Fics of 2024

It's that time of year again! The time for me to rank my own fics for the last year in order from my least favorite to most favorite. I only considered fics I wrote entirely myself, so you won't see an honest living in here because that was almost 50/50 written with Dizzy! (but you should definitely go check it out!)

This year I only had two novel length fics because I was supposed to be focusing on original work (oops). I had a heck of a summer with my bingo fills. There's definitely recency bias at play here, but that's just how it goes sometimes. Let me know if you agree/disagree :D

See the Elephant - T - this one was written for a fic fest that ended up getting canceled because of the grituation. I had already written the entire thing and it had to be T because the artists were going to post their work. If I had known it would be canceled, I would have had them doing the freaknasty. This was after I had already planned out and written a fic before new boundaries dropped in November (see Circling Back). Basically, this fic fest was never meant to be, I suppose. I was starting to think I was a curse. Oh, but the fic itself is a soulmate AU and kinda angsty and has a hospital scene. 0 horse mentions.

Merry Men Making Merry - T - This was written for Fairy Tales from the SMP - the first and only successful fanfiction event I've completed all the way through (it's never me dropping out btw, it's always the event getting canceled). Anyway I got my first choice of fairy tale, which was Robin Hood, and I put a fun spin on it. The art with this fic was gorgeous!! A very different type of fic for me and it stretched some writing muscles I didn't know I had. Secret identity and identity reveal, some of my favorite tropes. 4 horse mentions.

Move to Florida, buy the car you want - E - the first of my bingo fics. It turns out I am bad at being brief. Anyway, DNF get together and semi-roadhead and I dunno, it's cute. I wrote most of this fic free hand in my note book at my work desk because fuck capitalism. I just checked, the prompt was "late night care rides" which checks out. 0 horse mentions

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts (croptop) - E - this is the one from the middle of June about crop tops that was also written for bingo. I dunno. It's cute enough. 0 horse mentions.

Everyone understands why it’s mean to be (a/b/o phone call) - T - this one is funny because I didn't even bother saying what the prompt was in the author's notes, but I think it was a/b/o. This one was fun to write because it was basically a nod to the 2021 fandom and where we were, and where DNF were -- waiting on that damn visa. Like going back in time and writing a fic. 1 horse mention.

Can I Use You Up - E - I really had fun writing this one. It has fun Dreateam dynamics and then a really intense sex scene and the dichotomy of both of those things in one fic -- and short (for me), at that! impressive. 0 horse mentions.

Circling Back - E - this fic is fun and wild. I got to write co-workers to lovers that is also hidden/secret identity -- and it works! WILD! I re-read this one recently and it stands up. This was originally written for that first fic fest i was talking about and when they changed it for the new boundaries for art, I couldn't have any smut and the whole plot kind of hinged around the smut, so... I decided to just write it as it is. ALSO this is the first fic that Chelsey beta'd, I think. So that's fun! And it was the first fic of the year (not counting Hits Different which wrapped up in January). 0 horse mentions.

Just to do experiments on - E - Yall, if you had told me that I would write tentacle porn, I would have laughed at you. Extra has been trying to get me to write tentacles for YEARS and then it came up on my bingo card and I felt like I finally had to bite the bullet and do it. Except, I actually really love how it turned out? This bingo prompt was tentacles, obviously, but also cursed by a witch. A twofer, if you will. 0 horse mentions.

Let Me Familiarize You - E - here's some Scoops lore. I wrote this fic in two sitting and it is 13K, so that's wild!!! It took me two days in the time after my surgery but before I could go back to work to write this (in between writing the beginnings of Two Fools and another story that I haven't and won't publish lol). Anyway, it's about witch!George accidentally making Patches his familiar and then coming clean to Dream and also his mom is there. And then literally that same day, George dropped a video with his mom. Crazy pants. (or maybe it was the day before when this was all written? Can't remember. Also I was on pain pills). I really like how it turned out. It's a fun premise! 0 horse mentions.

Puzzle pieces in the dead of night - T - another bingo fic, the prompt was pirates. Anyway, I had a BLAST writing this one. Secret identity, kidnapping, munchy mc dynamics, I really like writing action adventurey fics and this one feel right into that category. A fun read, in my opinion. 0 horse mentions.

I’m Having His Baby (No, I’m Not) - E - a bingo fic, the prompt was "mpreg, but abortion" because the person who made the boards *ahem* doesn't like pregnancy stuff and wanted to punish me (lightheartedly lol). Anyway, joke is on her, because I made this into an epic story and I had so much fun writing it. Like, laughing out loud to myself while writing it, which is kinda sad, but is also the point of fanfiction. You have to entertain yourself first and foremost. And also I snuck eventual mpreg in there anyway so haha! for real, though, if you think the premise of this one is weird -- Dream and George accompany Sapnap on a roadtrip to Colorado to get his abortion -- you should try it out anyway. 1 horse mention, and arguably the one that brought it to our good anon's attention.

Anagnorisis - E - speaking of mpreg, LMAOOOOOO. My "I didn't know I was pregnant" AU with Angst and miscommunication and domesticity and last minute flights to London and a baby named after the lead singer of Glass Animals. This fic has a lot! I wrote a lot about the beginning of this fic on Tumblr and kind of how I begin writing fics. Here Anyway, pretty proud of this fic. I had to ask my mom a lot of questions about NICU. 3 horse mentions.

I Am Two Fools - E - every year the last novel length fic of the year seems to be in the top spot. No Exception this year. This fic was very tough to write, but very rewarding. I think it taught me a lot about making sure character motivations are fleshed out and make sense. It, and Anagnorisis, taught me about trusting the reader and dropping hints at things. Yall got So Good at catching hints and making molehills out of anthills, as intended. I took a chance and switched up POV halfway through, which is almost never do. And I think that really helped me stretch my writing muscles as well as all the bingo fics. Very proud of the work I did on this fic. 0 horse mentions.

#Scoops' 2024 fics #recap #fic recs #two fools #horse of course

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tapakah0 · 1 year ago

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Hello! I just wanted to show you something I made :3 L.O.V.E. Animatic Also wanted to say thanks for being such an amazing force on this tumbler community. You are such an amazing artist and I hope all the good things come your way! Good luck on the road to all your artistic endeavors! Thanks again for everything!

DO YOU KNOW. THAT I SUDDENLY WOKE UP THIS MORNING. DECIDED TO CHECK TUMBLR. SAW THIS. AND I KNEW. I KNEW I WILL NOT BE CALM THE WHOLE DAY. DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE TO ME? THERE ARE 2 PEOPLE WHO CAN INSPIRE ME TO THE STATE WHERE I JUST SIT 24/7 WONDERING ABOUT HOW MUCH POSSIBILITIES THERE ARE IN THE LIFE. ONE OF THEM IS YOU. YOU APPEAR RARELY BUT YOU ALWAYS LEAVE ME IN AWE FOR THE REST OF THE SEVERAL MONTHS. I WAS WAITING THE WHOLE DAY TO WATCH IT. I WAS WAITING. THE WHOLE DAY. DO YOU KNOW WHY??? BECAUSE ONE OF THE THING THAT I LOVE THE MOST IS BATTLES. I SUCK AT THEM BUT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THAT YOU MIGHT JUST KILL ME WITH ONE. AND YOU DID WHAT. I'M SORRY I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT REALLY IS GOING ON. IF ONE DAY YOU WILL NEED SPARE LEGS JUST ASK ME I WILL GIVE YOU BOTH (SORRY I'VE ALREADY OFFERED ALL OTHER PARTS OF MY BODY). I WAS WAITING TO WATCH IT LIKE A CINEMA. AND GIVE MY FULL ATTENTION TO IT. AGAIN, YOU ARE MY INSPIRATION. LITERALLY EVERYTIME I WONDER ABOUT WHAT I CAN ANIMATE AND HOW, USUALLY WHEN IT IS ABOUT BATTLES (AND SINCE I DON'T FOLLOW SOMEONE CERTAIN AND JUST FIND LITTLE PIECES HERE AND THERE), I REMEMBER YOU AND ONE MORE ANIMATOR. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I WANT TO LEARN EVERY LITTLE INCH OF YOUR WORKS. YOU ARE. YOU ARE!!!

WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE ALL THESE THINGS YOU'VE DONE SO FAR??????

NOW EXUSE ME AS I AM FINALLY GOING TO WATCH IT AND SCREAM OUT ALL MY LUNGS

#YEYE23 #YOUR “HOPE” = “MY DEATH” OKAY #YOU AND CASS #ARE LITERALLY FEEDING MY DESPERATE FOR MOVING THINGS SOUL

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cosmicbrowniebox · 2 months ago

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Darling, I

pairing: post ts!kuroo x Artist! gf

wc: I think like 1.2k

a/n:really enjoyed writing this after struggling alot these last two weeks mentally but I hope you guys enjoy this and let me know if you wanna know more about these two for future posts ^_^ also this grammar wise is gonna be so bad because I've been awake since 10pm and its now 1:38 pm and running on fumes

“Yn” Tetsuro called from the doorway just loud enough over the sound of her music playing in the background as she worked on a new piece for the JVA “Huh what’s up” Yn responded not moving from her spot at her desk the drawing tablet flipped on as the only source of light in the room since the sun had already gone down for the night “you should finish up for the night it’s getting late isn’t it?” He asked her, knowing she had been working on the new holiday promotional merchandise for the JVA and had been working on god knows how many things besides that project he had commissioned.

She nodded checking the time realizing it was already eleven pm “Jeez it’s already this late” she mumbled rolling her stiff neck whenever she got focused on her deadlines and Producing quality work for it she was like a train that never seemed to stop hell even faster than the bullet train sometimes depending how big the art piece is “how far have you gotten?” Tetsuro asked leaning against the doorframe it wasn't enough to completely see her drawing tablet with how she was sitting.

"I've got the base of it done I think it should be done by later tomorrow if I work all day on it so it can be on time for the deadline" she answered sliding over slightly as she motioned for him to come closer so he could get a better look “it looks amazing Yn I love how you did it and everything just looks so well done” he praised with that smile he always loved her art ever since primary school he always liked to see the things he drew and to read her manga panels in the school paper even when she gave up on drawing for years because she thought it was the right thing to stop because all her friends thought it was weird she put so much time into it until she got back into it for a contest that she entered with a girl who she shared the panels with.

“I'm serious Yn it's already so amazing” he added earning a sheepish smile from his girlfriend “i mean id hope so since it will gonna be shown to a crap ton of teens and others around the country” she responded looking up at him from the corner of her eye before looking back down at the tablet on her table after a moment of watching it deciding to click the save button before shutting down her PC setup in her office “alright let's get to bed its late isn't it” she told him sarcastically as she stood up from her desk chair shooing him out so she could go wash her face before they head to bed

“Yeah you've been held up in here all day” he quipped back following right behind her already in his pajamas for the night “that's what you say every time” she hummed standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom the faucet running

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we didn't have our careers?” Tetsuro asked watching her almost as if he was watching a painting he must have found breathtaking he liked to say she reminded him of a Renaissance painting sometimes especially when she was doing mundane tasks or working on things “i like to think i would still be in the art type of job but instead i would have pursued being a mangaka y’know?” she answered clicking open her face wash and putting some on her hand as she spoke

“Or maybe a teacher and I would have gone back to work at Nekoma” she added knowing that ever since she was young it was three things when it came to her art, history, and music she always thought it would be one of those places catching her eye in life.

never once did she think it would be graphic design though for most of her commissions besides when the JVA commissions her work “what about you?” she asked continuing on with her skincare as he deliberated beside her “probably still doing volleyball maybe or coaching” he answerd she knew in some ways he still wanted to play and go professional like alot of his friends did but he grew to love his job and the life he built but anything would be amazing as long as they were together thats what he always said when one of them felt real discouraged with something they had been trying to pursue in or on a specific project.

“Bet you’d be going pro or something if you kept with it” she said drying her face off from the extra water on her cheeks after a moment setting down the towel as she watched him back for a moment like it was a staring contest or something “eh who knows maybe” he hummed turing on his heel so he could go back into their bedroom “shut off the lights in there” he called out as a reminder knowing she had a habit of forgetting to turn them off at night

With a small click shutting off the overhead light in the bathroom she followed the hall back to their room knowing he was probably already in bed since it was a long day for them both but its not like long days would truly matter they would always still be by each others side no matter what and know stress was okay and that the other could help to try and lessen that burden

As she slid in beside him for the night it was like clockwork for her body the tense muscles and aches she had from the day just seemed to melt away beside him because she knew it was safe she knew that she would be safe with him just like she always was ever since junior high

“What would you thin about getting married one of these days yn?” tetsuro asked his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her close she must have seemed so confused with the little huh she made “id do it” she mumbled out as a response before adding “i mean id do anything with you tetsu your like my other half at this point” she added snuggling into him closer she wasnt wrong he really was like her other half the yang to her yin and the sun to her moon

She knew if he was to ask her it would be an immediate yes it always would be because god would she be a dumbass to say no to the rooster head he was as sweet to her as a bag of sweets he reminded her of home an at this point he was home to her he always had been

She would always feel at home listening to his heartbeat knowing he was gonna be okay and that nothing bad was gonna happen to him with how bad her anxiety got for no reason sometimes it was always comforting when she would get him all to herself for a bit even if it was just for the night.

#fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroyn #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x artist!reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu time skip #kuroo ml #kuroo testuro #haikyuu kuroo

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myonmukyuu · 26 days ago

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Art Summary: 2024

I've been posting my art online for 11 years! wowie!!

My yearly review is under the cut (1.8k words):

Previous: 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023

Happy new year everyone!!! This is actually the first time in a long time that I've not posted my yearly summary on the 31st. I was a bit caught up with visiting family and being a good host so I didn't get time.

Anyways! Time for my year in review that no one reads except for me the following year. 💪💪💪

How this year went:

I think this year went... alright? Let's see, what did I get up to...

Ah. Okay! Art-wise it went "alright" but life-wise I had a pretty good year! Got a boyfriend! Got a cat! Went on two holidays (Japan, USA)! Visited family! Met a lot of online friends! Went to a bunch of concerts! (YOASOBI, Nijigasaki 6th, Hololive Down Under, Miku) A pretty eventful year ✌✌✌✌

But this is actually an art year in review so I'm going to focus on that! And... yeah, I think I went 'alright'. I don't feel terrible about how I went, but I also don't feel amazing? C+ or B- I think...

How did my art go?

Like I said, I think I went 'alright'. I felt very rocky several times in the year with periods of art block and a good chunk of time where nothing I drew felt 'right'. Was it burnout? Maybe. It took me some time to find my footing again. It also didn't really help that I had a lot of "interruptions" throughout the year. Traveling, getting sick, artist alleys and stuff really messed with my momentum. I did a lot of individual little works rather than comic works. I'm not exactly happy with that but it's something to look at for next year.

In terms of raw, technical skill I'm not really too far from where I was last year. But to be fair, after drawing for a decade that's to be expected. While I want to be always improving, I know that's not always immediately visible. That being said, my shikishis are a lot better than the first ones I made! (But technically it's more like my traditional skills are catching up with digital skills???)

Like I mentioned earlier I spent a lot of the year feeling "lost" when drawing. It was kind of like I forgot my own style? In my eyes that made a lot of the work shakey in quality at best... But excluding that fact, I'd like to highlight that I should probably revisit fundamentals. I think when I'm feeling lost, stronger anatomical fundamentals and linework would probably ground me a bit better. Will that be something I look at in 2025? Who's to say 🧍‍♀️

In terms of comic works I think I under performed in terms of quantity. And IMO they were affected by me feeling "lost" while drawing some of them. If I were to revisit them I'd probably touch them up.

I liked how the comics turned out though. 😊 (more in the next section)

My 2024 Goals and how I did:

This is the part where I read what I wrote last year and check if I acted on them at all ✌

As always, it doesn't really matter to me if I fulfill these goals or not. What's more important is the "why". It's good to be aware of what is important to you and what isn't.

“Draw more comics.”

Last year I was dissatisfied from a lack of comics. I think I released 1 doujin... and posted 2 mini-comics? So I don't blame myself for being so dissatisfied. Like I said, I’m a story-teller first, illustrator second.

I blamed an art block that had me eventually scrap a 20 page comic that was drafted and lined. I wasn't satisfied with the storyboarding at all. Because I was burned out, the storyboarding was done in a very direct/ dull way so I wasn't happy with it. But, it was a cute idea and I probably should've finished it. (It's like throwing a month of art into the void.)

While I've decided not to salvage that comic, I've taken the experience to heart. This year when I went to the US, I was interrupted while working on a comic I will be uploading somewhat soon. It took about 5 months to finish the comic. Which is a lot for a 14 pager. And that reason is because I was similarly dissatisfied with it. The paneling and the script just felt like it could be better and I wasn't happy working on it. But instead of randomly dropping it, I just re-storyboarded it until I was happier. The comic isn't posted yet, but I like it sooo much more than the initial draft! So my lesson going forward is to put more focus on my personal satisfaction. This isn't my job, it's a hobby I'm passionate about so I should always prioritise my own feelings!

I did end up drawing slightly more comics though. So technically I've "fulfilled this goal". I still don't feel satisfied with my productivity but it's an improvement.

“Push those shikishi to the next level!”

This goal is pretty self explanatory. Like I said, I think I've improved my shikishi craft quite a bit. I've also experimented with various materials like craft flowers and foil! The road of improvement is long and I still have so much more to learn but I'm fairly happy with how I've done.

There is one stipulation though, which is...

“Do artist alley, but don’t burn out!”

...burn out from doing too many artist alleys.

I did explicitly remind myself not to do too many, but I ended up doing 4 this year. I think this had a direct impact on my productivity and my overall satisfaction.

Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy doing artist alley with my friends. It's very rewarding. But it's also clear that I've been shooting myself in the foot. While I enjoy making shikishi they're not very sustainable for populating an artist alley table. When they've sold, they're gone. And it becomes empty space on the table. It isn't like prints or keychains where you can mass-produce some more. It could take me weeks to fill my table again. And I think this is where my productivity feels very strained.

"There's a con coming up... so I should prepare! I guess I should put this comic on hold while I work on shikishi/print stock." <- this ended up happening a lot this year. When it comes to making comics I'm really momentum-based where I have to basically hyper focus. So when my momentum is broken, I have a hard time going again...

And focus issues aside, when I combine it with the holidays I've taken I just haven't had as much time to work on comics in general.

It'd be convenient if I aimed to print every comic I made as they're completed (then you'd have a cycle of new prints on the table every time) but I'd rather aim towards thicker books/ bigger projects.

My problems would probably be solved if I made more prints or keychains and the like. I wouldn't have to be so pressed. But again, I know the issue just stems from me. I don't enjoy those things as much and I really want to specialise in shikishi and hand-drawn art along side my comics.

This year I want to be more selective with my tabling. Either that, or draw faster lmfao .

“Actually start planning that next story”

LMFAO what a big joke. I didn't do much on this.

I actually changed my sights to a few more scale ideas, so I'm not terribly fussed by this. Priorities change sometimes, y'know? What's important to me is that I'm still working towards something.

Goals for 2025:

With all of that in mind, here are the goals I've set for 2025! There's a lot so I don't expect to do them all. I would be happy to select a couple of things 😊. Step by step y'know?

"Draw more comics" (Repeatable Quest)

Continue my setsuayu anthology

I'm working on a bunch of little setsuayu stories I'd like to combine into a collection! I don't know if I'll finish for sure, but I'd like to make more progress.

Make non-setsuayu works

I've been bouncing ideas in my head for R3B1RTH comic ideas. And YuShizu. I've always liked these characters so I'd like to finally dedicate some time to them.

Honestly this goal is so incredibly malleable. I don't see it productive to set a static number of works I'd like to release. Because what really matters is if I make work I end up happy with. I could even end up drawing comics that are completely different in topic but still feel satisfied!

"Improve at art" (Repeatable Quest)

I made this goal super broad too because there's a number of things I want to try doing.

General:

study painting techniques

I think more practise with realism and still-life painting would do wonders for me. It'd give me more familiarity with tone and values that would help me in general. I also would like to make little shikishi with still life!

study composition

Recently I bought a textbook about this topic. My composition skills... could be better! It's truly a mystery how I've made so many comics. When I feel stuck with comics, I get the feeling that not being familiar with composition techniques contribute to that.

Traditional:

Continue producing shikishi

This one is a no-brainer! I still want to do artist alley! I still want to practise shikishi more! Not too much to say here specifically since everything else contributes to this.

Learn how to paint

When making traditional pieces, I'm not limited by media. So why not go more multimedia? Specifically I'd like to try a workshop with watercolour painting, or even gouache! Copic markers, although fun to use do have weaknesses. It'd be good to learn more about different media and how they interact with each other to create more interesting pieces moving forward!

Continue to experiment with craft/media

I did a piece with foil this year and it was pretty neat! (but a bit shoddy since it was my first time haha). I'd like to go further and continue designing pieces that use other materials in different ways.

I've also bought special inks that I'm excited to use as well!

"Improve my actual health"

Okay this one is the hardest goal... For context towards the end of this year I've been really tired. By what? I'm not that sure. I'd take multiple power naps a day and still feel sleepy. And I'd get 8 hours of sleep each night... And it's not like I'm restless when sleeping. I sleep perfectly fine but there's always a blanket of exhaustion....

Anyways I think I should eat healthier and get more exercise in. I think it would help my productivity more. (Less snackies for me 😢)

If anyone read this, damn that's crazy!

Let's have a good year!

#most people use different templates but i think using this really old one forever has its charm too #as always thank you everyone for the support this year #lets work hard next year too!#my art #art summary #nov comic isnt posted yet #but ive been working on it for 5 months so i put it there #its done ill post it soon ish!

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